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Date: Fri, 09 Mar 2007 22:22:21 -0800
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Subject: 4**** NEW EROTIC TG WORKING GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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===================
For the best TG stories:
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Working Girl
Chapter One:
I was on exhibit at Mistress Monica's clothing store. All three of my
'work' Mistresses had taken special care to dress me in the most
restrictive and confining items which not only increased my degree of
helplessness but ensured I knew it was a very feminized, exquisitely
humiliating, helplessness. I say I was on exhibit because I was
virtually unable to move from the two foot high pedestal I was occupying.
I was delicately perched on needle thin stiletto heels measuring an
incredible eight inches high. These high heeled pumps had a narrow
pointed toe and were secured to my feet by double straps across my
instep and triple ankle straps. There was no platform on the heels,
causing my feet to be painfully arched in the eight inch spike heeled
torture shoes. I was standing on my tip toes and found that keeping my
balance entailed constantly taking tiny, little mincing steps while
remaining in place. It was like marching in place but try doing it with
needle tipped eight inch tiny heels under you. The heels were courtesy
of Mistress Linda from her shop, the Foot Fetish. I had been made to
walk to the clothing store in seven inch spike sandals, carrying the
eight inch heels in my hands.
I was encased in a shiny blue latex hobble dress. It gripped me
extremely tight, hugging my voluptuous curves in a brazen display of
femininity. It had taken almost a half hour to put this dress on due to
the severe tightness of the material. Then, to further enhance the way
the dress molded to my body, a multitude of zippers were slowly and
teasingly closed. Both sleeves were zippered as well as the one running
from my ass up to my neck. The really devilish part though was that the
hobble skirt had a zipper that, when closed down to my ankles, made it
impossible for me to move my feet or legs other than to maintain the
mincing, tiny steps necessary to keep my balance. The zippers made the
dress completely form fitting to my body and each zipper had been slowly
and teasingly closed letting me feel the firm, confining grip of the
dress clasp tightly around my body, inch by inch.
The delightfully feminine curves of my body were compliments of Mistress
Belinda and her assistant, Mandy, from Intimate Lingerie & Corsetry. In
fact all my lingerie, including the wickedly laced corset that went from
under my breasts to below my hips, had come from there. Each item was
chosen for either it's confining and restrictive nature or for it's
extreme femininity with lots of lace and ruffles, depending upon their
mood at the time.
My constant prancing made my 42ddd breasts bounce appealingly while
causing the most delightful undulations of my voluptuous hips and bubble
butted ass. The men were loving it as I watched them staring and
leering at me through the glass display window I was showcased in. The
pedestal I was standing on was in the middle of the display window.
There was always considerable traffic walking past and each day found me
modeling a new outfit. There were certain men that came by daily just
to stare and drool while watching me wiggle and strut. Often, Ms.
Monica would insist I parade back and forth in the display window when I
wasn't out walking the mall itself. I had seen more than one hard cock
pressing against a man's pants, bulging the pants out noticeably. I
knew what they thought. I knew what they wanted. I knew their
innermost fantasies of what they wanted to do with me.
I knew all those things perfectly because I was a male, though looking
at me now no one would ever believe it. My wife/mistress had forced me
to undergo feminization to an incredible degree. Between the hormones
and implants, the 42ddd breasts were all me, no more temporary or
removable falsies allowed. My titties spelled out GIRL, in capital
letters and I had quickly discovered how extremely feminizing having
such an awesome bosom was. Yet buried deep under my garments and
restrained in a pair of latex pussy panties my one remaining "male"
part, now referred to as my clit, throbbed in desire and torment. The
hormones had been aimed at developing feminine breasts while ensuring
that my clit was fully capable of allowing me tremendous, shuddering
orgasms and filling my panties with loads of my girl juices, much to my
embarrassment and humiliation. It also assured that I could be
unmercifully tortured, teased and made wild with sexual arousal and need
while being denied the joys and ecstasy of orgasm.
Five days a week I held jobs modeling at three different stores in the
mall. Each day, made up and looking like a slut, I had to submit to the
most humiliating and embarrassing outfits each store could think up for
me. I spent three hours modeling the most suggestive, feminizing
lingerie imaginable including all types of corsets and girdles at the
Intimate Lingerie & Corset shop.
Once I had completed my three hours in lingerie and corsets, I then had
to go to the Foot Fetish, where for two hours I was forced to model the
most outrageous and nearly impossible footwear that any man could dream
up to see a woman in. Some heels, like the pair I was now teetering on,
required that I do nothing more but stand on display at the store's
entrance, or in one of the display windows. Other times I would find
myself promenading about the mall in sexy heels and handing out business
cards to people interested in my shoes or outfits. Sometimes, much to
my Mistress's delight, I was forced to model the most humiliating styles
of shoes with impossibly high and slender heels, commonly referred to a
"fuck me" heels. Ms. Linda, the store owner, reserved the most
embarrassing and outrageously high heels for me while her other girls
modeled the lower heels, five inch and less. Anything lower than six
inch heels were denied me within my first few weeks of working there.
In the beginning I was allowed to wear five inch heels for only two
weeks and then found myself horribly emasculated by six inch heels.
After four months wearing six inch heels I found myself mincing around
the mall in her selections of seven inch heels, all without benefit of a
platform for short periods of time. Several of her customers absolutely
adored watching a sissy feminized male, me, having to prance about in
the horribly feminizing heels she carried in her store. These women
were into feminizing men and loved seeing how sexy and provocative the
heels made a male look as I struggled to mince daintily in them.
In fact, all three stores not only carried items for women but had a
clientele of women who enjoyed feminizing males in the cruelest ways.
The owners of the three stores would get together each evening and
decide what I'd be wearing the next day and select matching heels,
clothing and lingerie for my wearing. With the exception of when
working in the lingerie and corset shop, I spent much of my time
parading through the mall while showing off different outfits from the
clothing stores and heels from the shoe shop. Some days were totally
devoted to extremely restrictive and wildly erotic items which meant
that I was only displayed within the stores. Other days my outfits and
heels were barely enough to keep me from getting arrested and on those
days I was made to strut about the mall as a walking advertisement for
the stores. Women and men both had stopped me and inquired where my
clothing, lingerie and heels came from as well as asking about different
styles, etc. The store owners as well as my Mistress greatly enjoyed my
anxiety and shame when modeling throughout the mall.
This would've been bad enough but I was constantly made up as a whore
thanks to long lasting, indelible makeup as well as truly slutty acrylic
nails of never less than two inch length and always painted gleamingly.
My jewelry also attested to the fact that I was a whore with long,
dangling earrings, hoops and studs in my triple pierced ears. Anklets,
bracelets, necklaces all added to my appearance of that of a wanton
slut. Each day I had to endure the many looks of disgust and scorn
pointedly aimed at me because of my appearance and my supposed,
intentional flaunting of my feminine charms. At times my outfits and
heels were scandalous and shocking causing me terrible humiliations as I
was forced to wantonly prance about the mall while silently suffering
from the shameless and lewd attention I received as a sex object to be
leered at and ogled. The promiscuousness of my looks and attire ensured
that I was subjected to the indignities that came from hearing the lewd,
obscene and vulgar comments and innuendoes made to and about me. I was
forced to suffer these in silence while maintaining a sexy smile which
focused attention on my pouty, red, cocksucking lips.
Just the beginning…
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