Friday, December 5, 2014

The Corset Shop, Part One

Another story by 'N'

I wasn’t sure that I’d ever seen the shop before, tucked quietly away and half hidden by a busy hairdressing salon close to where I worked. I had been thinking about buying my wife a present for her birthday and she had been hinting for some time that some sexy underwear might make a nice gift so I wandered in to take a look around. An elegantly dressed woman greeted me and asked if I needed any help.

"I’m looking for something for my wife." I said nonchalantly, trying to ignore the woman’s penetrating gaze. "Some underwear perhaps."

I wasn’t really sure why the woman’s ‘understanding’ look embarrassed me but I blushed all the same.

"I’m sorry." She said. "I sometimes get men in here buying things for themselves and it saves a great deal of time if we dispense with the ‘wife’ excuse as soon as possible. There’s always a problem with size and its usually obvious what they’re really after."

I must have looked very surprised because the woman immediately suggested that I sit down and offered me a comfortable chair next to one of the fitting rooms.

"You really are buying something for your wife aren’t you," she said apologetically. "I am very sorry but you looked like the other type to me. You have quite an effeminate face and you’re definitely on the small side."

She hesitated for a moment, watching my reaction as I sat down heavily in the chair, trying desperately to contain my mounting anger.

"You seem surprised." She said, moving nonchalantly across the shop to hang a sign in the window. "You shouldn’t be. Most of my male customers turn out to be cross-dressers or transvestites eventually. It’s nothing to be ashamed of and, even though I’m sure you’re far too masculine to have ever experimented with women’s clothing yourself, most of my clients maintain perfectly normal heterosexual relationships, even after their wives find out about their little secret."

I began to stand up to ask this woman what on earth she thought she was suggesting but she anticipated my anger and pushed me gently back into the comfortable upholstery of my chair.

"Try to relax." she said softly, her voice strangely resonant in the large showroom. "I’ve closed the shop and that will give us plenty of time to discuss these terrible accusations I’m making. Would you mind if I put on some music?"

I nodded, feeling strangely subdued by her presence and the commanding tone she used to such great effect. I suddenly felt incredibly tired and, as the music began, I found it vaguely reassuring as the tinkling of bells and soft piano mingled with the rhythmic lapping of waves on some distant beach. My eyes felt heavy and I could do nothing to stop them closing as the relaxing music continued to wash over me.

"You’re not angry with me anymore are you?" a voice whispered.

I nodded and felt my lips move as I breathed a ‘no’ into the expectant silence.

"Good." The voice said, immediately making me feel better about my dreamy acquiescence. "You’ll feel so much better about everything if you sleep. Just let your body drift while I ask some questions and you must relax even if you find my questions embarrassing or strange. Do you understand?"

I nodded once, now quite unable to move my limbs in the intense comfort of the chair. There was a pause while I heard the woman sitting down and then the questions began, innocuous enough to begin with but then becoming more direct and obviously sexual in nature. Despite my disgust, I could no longer help myself. I answered every one completely honestly and without any apparent hesitation.

"My name is Richard." I told her. "I’m married to Sandy, a secretary at the Company where I work. I’m 26 years old and I’ve always been small for a man. Yes, I was bullied at school. No, I’ve never borrowed any of my wife’s clothes. Our sex life has been difficult recently. We’ve both been very busy. No, I’ve never fantasised about other men. Yes, I like women in high heels and suspenders…

And so it went on. I lost count of how many questions she asked or what I eventually told her but, after an hour or so, she was done and the questions were finally over.

"You surprise me Richard." The shopkeeper purred. "You really were a perfectly ordinary heterosexual male when you arrived."

I must have looked confused about her choice of the past tense because she immediately clarified exactly what she meant by this rather peculiar statement.

"You’ve only been lightly hypnotised so far." She continued, "Just enough to elicit the answers I require before sending you into a much deeper trance. As soon as you came into the shop, I knew that you were already highly compliant but, in a few minutes time, I will have placed you in a much more suggestible condition. Natural somnambulists are actually quite rare Richard but you are a prime hypnotic subject and, once you’re under, you’ll be amazed what we can achieve together."

I began to mouth questions in fear but I still could not open my eyes and my limbs refused to move. A single word sent me immediately back into a state of complete relaxation.

"Sleep." she commanded, pushing my head back into the comfort of the chair. "You may as well enjoy it Richard. Few people have such an opportunity to explore a completely unknown aspect of their personality. You’ll soon find out how much fun it can be being transformed into a glamorous young woman and, as you’ve obviously never done anything like this before, it will be a real challenge to maintain your new cravings outside this hypnotic state. However, with some deeply implanted suggestions, I’m sure you will soon learn to enjoy your new hobby."

I murmured softly as the woman began relaxing me more deeply, opening my subconscious mind to her evil suggestions but there was little I could do to help myself. I could no longer resist the soft lull of her voice as I slipped further and further into the welcoming blackness of my somnambulistic state.

"We won’t do everything today." She whispered to me as I slept. "Just a little crossdressing to begin with, just enough to demonstrate your complete acquiescence to my authority and then we’ll make the rest of the changes in a few weeks time. After a few more sessions you’ll quickly progress from crossdressing into full blown transvestitism and then, after your wife has discovered your new hobby, we’ll see whether or not she wants to keep you as a feminised heterosexual or something far more interesting."

These were the last words I remember hearing but some time must have passed because it was dark outside when I found myself being roused from my deep sleep.

"Five… Feeling more awake now Richard… Four… You can move again… Three… Waking up… Two… Almost wide awake now… One… Open your eyes!"

I blinked in confusion as I came round. Despite the blackness outside the shop, a bright light reflected in a huge mirror dazzled me. I tried to speak as I peered into the glass but my words were strangely muffled and I merely grunted into a large obstruction in my mouth.

"I’m sorry about the gag." The woman said, "but, as you can see, we’ve made some changes to your appearance and I didn’t want you alerting the neighbours."

She turned me around in the chair as she spoke and my eyes widened in horror as I finally saw what had been done to me while I slept.

"Rather conveniently, I also own the salon next door." the shopkeeper explained. "The beauticians there are quite accustomed to doing makeovers on my clients and, I must admit, they’ve done a fantastic job on you. For someone who’s never worn cosmetics before, your aptitude surprised us all. As I told you earlier, you already had a beautifully soft face but the cosmetics have really enhanced your rather feminine features."

I grunted, unable to express my horror through the stifling fullness of the gag. I stared at my reflection, still not quite able to believe that I was now, to all intents and purposes, a pretty young woman. It seemed impossible but here I was wearing perfectly applied makeup, a delightful brunette wig and a revealing PVC mini-dress that displayed rather more of my newly feminised figure than I was entirely comfortable with. As the awful reality of my situation became apparent, I realised that there was another, more subtle, aspect to my unwitting transformation. As I gazed at the tapered narrowness of my corseted waist and felt the comfortably supported weight of my new silicone breasts, I noticed the first stirrings of pleasure deep in my subconscious mind. As I smiled, the agent of my corruption removed the gag.

"You’ve made me enjoy this haven’t you?" I almost spat the words through the sleek gloss of my lips. "You hypnotised me so that I’d gain some perverse pleasure from seeing myself like this."

"Of course I have Richard." The woman said matter-of-factly. "But look at yourself, look how pretty you are. You should enjoy it. There would be little point in shaving your legs, if you didn’t derive some small pleasure from wearing stockings and suspenders would there?"

I looked down as she spoke and shuddered with some secret gratification as I noticed the sheer silk of my long smooth legs for the first time. I could barely disguise the deep sigh of satisfaction as my manicured fingers discovered the provocative elastic of my suspenders, just visible beneath the revealing hemline of my pretty gloss dress.

"How are the heels?" she asked. "I’m sure they must feel rather strange as you’ve never worn stilettos before."

Hating myself and wishing I had some control over my confused mind, I found myself replying immediately.

"They’re beautiful." I simpered, now unable to take my eyes off the needle-like points of my 5-inch heels. "Can I take them home with me?"

The woman laughed loudly.

"Of course you can Richard." She told me. "But what will Sandy think if she ever finds out that you’ve taken to wearing such appealing footwear? She’d be shocked and I’m not sure she’d understand at all if you wore them around the house."

At the mention of my wife’s name, I rose from the chair and tottered over to the door nervously. Despite my concerns about Sandy’s obvious reaction to discovering her husband now had a penchant for high heels, the pleasure I felt at actually walking in such outrageous designs could not be denied.

"She’ll be wondering where I am." I offered meekly. "I’m already late and you’re right, I can’t go home like this. She’d never understand."

"You’re going to have enough trouble explaining why you don’t have a great deal of bodily hair left." The woman said gently. "And the beautician really went to town on your eyebrows. We can remove the makeup of course and let you have your clothes back but some of the changes we’ve made will be hard to disguise."

I felt myself beginning to cry at the prospect of Sandy discovering my awful secret.

"Don’t cry Richard. I’m sure everything will be fine. A lot of men manage to dress at home and their wives never find out about it. I’m sure you’ll manage."

An hour later, my eyes still stinging from the makeup remover, two carrier bags clutched nervously in my hands, I finally left the shop and made my way home. As I sat on the bus out of the city, I still could barely reconcile my shame with the undeniable pleasure of what I had just experienced. Somehow on the long journey home, I managed to bury my new cravings deep in my subconscious mind. As I hurried through the front door of my house, hiding my recent purchases in the closet as I called to tell Sandy I was home, the mystery of my misspent afternoon, for the time being at least, would remain a secret.


Don't forget to choose who makes the prettier girl (details here) and also choose which version of my eyes you prefer (details here)!

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