>       TOUCH OF SATIN
>        by Terry P

The college boy strutted jauntily down the street, the classified
ads propped  under his arm. Summer break had started, and this
freshman was looking for a good job. He felt he would have no
trouble, he had a year of college and was looking in the store
windows,  confident that he was the most qualified for the job,
any job, that he was somehow superior to the locals,and
especially the girls he saw working in the shops and restaurants.
What could they offer that he couldn't do better. After all, he
was a man, a college man.

He entered the small shop, "A Touch Of Satin", after seeing the
tiny help  wanted sign placed suspiciously in an inconspicuous
corner of the window.  Typically stupid, just like a woman. The
store, a small boutique, was new, the floors covered with boxes
and shelving, the assembled shelves stocked haphazardly with an
assortment of merchandise, woman's stuff he imagined. The manager
of the store stood to one side, looking pensively at the workers 
putting the store in order. She was tall, her figure beneath the
the severe business suit was trim, but uninviting. She wore large
horn rim glasses, no  makeup, and her hair was pulled back in a
shapeless bun.

Nibbling distractedly at a pencil, she jumped, startled, when he
brashly  announced that the job was filled. She looked at him,
appraisingly.

"Why should I hire you?"

The boy, cockily, said that he was the best man for the job,
better than any of the simple minded girls he had seen in the
neighbouring stores. She said  nothing, her grip on the pencil
tightening perceptibly, the knuckles whitening briefly. Unfazed,
the boy brashly asked about the salary.
The woman replied, "Its adequate. There are a few forms for you
to fill out, and an employment  contract for you to sign."

The boy filled in the forms without reading them.

"Be sure to read the dress code before you sign the contract"

The boy nodded, signed his name with a flourish. He was always a
sharp dresser, one of the best dressed guys at the house.

"Be here at nine sharp tommorow."

He left the store nodding confidently. As the door closed behind
him, the  womans's fingers gripped the pencil, and it broke with
a loud snap. Her eyes behind the glasses steely and determined.
She nodded to herself, a faint smile on her lips.

The boy walked into the store the next morning. He wore his best
sport coat,  and his fraternity tie knotted around his button
down oxford shirt.

"I'm here, how does this outfit strike you? The dress code is,
I'm sure,  satisfied"

"You obviously didn't read the contract closely" the woman's
voice was a husky  purr. He stared unbelievingly at the woman. He
couldn't accept what his eyes were telling him. The womans hair
once mousy in the tight bun was full and  thick, teased into a
sexy red mane. The figure hidden before by the business  suit was
lushly revealed by the tight leather outfit she now wore. Her
legs,  long and deeply tanned, were fully displayed by the short
tight skirt, her breasts full in the low cut leather blouse. The
boy just stared ahead.

"This is after all a fashionable boutique, and this is a binding
contract." The boy, still off balance, tried to get control.

"Now hold on here."

"You hold on sweetie, you signed the contract, and we are going
to enforce it. Right girls?" At the sound of her voice the
backroom door flew open, and two tall, strong looking women came
in. They said nothing, stood at attention, their eyes devoted to
the woman.

"Our new apprentice didn"t read his contract. What a bad little
boy he is". The student turned to leave, was stopped by strong
hands clamped to his arms. He found  suddenly he couldn't move.

"Read him the dress code". One of the girls obediently read the
clause in the contract.

"The employee shall dress so as to satisfy fully the employer.
The employer shall have full authority and discretion as to what
constitutes satisfaction"

"You see, what you are wearing does not, repeat, not satisfy me.
Girls, take our little helper and dress him to satisfy me."

The girls pulled his arms up behind his back, helplessly he
followed them into the  backroom. There they shackled his arms
above his head to the hooks  conveniently set in the oak beam of
the ceiling. A gag was roughly shoved into  his mouth. He was
helpless. He watched,  astonished, as they pulled out long knives
 sharp and gleaming in the harsh light of the room. They moved
towards him, and cut the clothes from his body. His anger was
tempered by relief when they put the knives away without harming
him. Now naked he stood shamed and silent. One of the girls began
to spread thick white lather over his legs, and he watched them
begin to scrape it from his legs with razors. His face grew red
when he saw the smooth skin the razors left. The girls shaved
every inch of his body smooth. He felt the rinsing water course
over the now smooth skin. Next one of the girls grabbed the back
of his head and pulled his head back, while spreading a smelly
cream over his neck and face. He felt it burn briefly, and then
the girl rinsed it off. The girl traced a long nail across the
smooth skin.

"This stuff works fantastic. not a sign of beard. But then our
little boy had  little more than peach fuzz anyway." Crimson, the
boy stood silent. Next the girl began to pluck at his eyebrows
with an electric pair of tweezers. He felt the brief snap as she
worked her way along the brows.

The girl cooed softly "Oh what pretty brows, so thin and fine"
The girl  unclamped his hands briefly, sat him down, and strapped
his wrists to the arms of the chair. Then she glued long acrylic
nails onto his own, filing them into sharp, long talons. His face
was scarlet as he watched her paint them a bright, bright red,
the toenails soon following suit. She then stood him up. He made
no attempt to resist, just stood there, shocked and embarassed.
He barely reacted when the girls placed a corset around his
waist, the satiny panels circling, and then narrowing his waist.
He felt the pressure as the corset was tightened, looked amazed,
and dazed as he saw his waist drawn in impossibly narrow. The
girls scarcely paused, stepped him into a tight pair of silky
panties and a sheer pair of silky hose, the fabric shiny and
smooth over the hairless legs. The shoes were next. A delicate
leather pump, with a high spike heel. He tottered on the heels,
the clicking echoing, mockingly on the tiled floor. Next the
girls applied a thin layer of cement to his now hairless chest,
and to his complete surprise, placed a realistic pair of
artificial breasts over his own flat chest. Once glued, the
breasts hung and bounced and swayed as if real. The  girls then
slipped a lacy bra over the breasts. It held them up, gave them 
shape, made them stand full and proud on his chest. Ashamed, the
boy looked  away. The girls sat him down on the chair. One of
them gathered his hair and placed it in a tight skull cap.
Another began to spread the makeup carefully and expertly on his
face. He felt and smelt the foundation and blusher being applied,
as he kept his eyes clamped shut. He felt the mascara being
spread on his lashes, and then the liner and shadows on his
eyelids. He felt the girls brush the lipstick and lip gloss on
his lips, and smelled the sweet scent of the perfume as the girls
dabbed it behind his ears. Next he felt the brief stick of the
earings as they clung to his lobes, dangling and brushing against
the side of his neck. He peeked out and saw the wig, blonde and
long, its bangs swept high, the fall teased and thick.

They lowered it onto his head, pinned it securely into place. He
felt the  strands brush against the back of his neck and the
crest of his shoulders. They stood him up before he had a chace
to see himself in the mirror. His relief was short lived, as the
girls stepped him into a tight sexy skirt, its sides laced,
showing an expanse of thigh. The blouse was full and silky,
bright in contrast to the skirt. A pair of colored leather belts
crossed his waist in a narrow crescent. The girls next slipped a
few shiny rings on his fingers. They stood him up, and slowly
turned him towards the mirror. He stared ahead. The woman entered
the room quietly. The boy stared ahead, unbelievingly.

The woman smiled, said in a low voice " Now I am satisfied." The
boy stared  ahead, seeing but not believing. His face was smooth,
the makeup even and  clear, the eyes somehow large and wide under
the long thick lashes and the fine cheeks were smoothly rouged,
and his lips were delicately drawn in a bright red shiny gloss.
The wig looked perfect and perfectly real, its gentle bell of
blonde hair framing the face. He looked astonished at the full
breasts pushing realistically against the silky blouse, and the
long nyloned legs perched on the high, high heels. The skirt was
tight, and the belts circled the tiny waist making it appear
feminine, against the comparative breadth of his hips. He looked
at his hands saw the dainty rings, the bright long nails. He
shook his head, felt the hair swing along his shoulders. He
couldn't believe what he was seeing in the mirror. He could
scarcely recognize himself. He saw a girl in the mirror, a sexy,
voluptous young girl. He looked at the woman.

"Now you are dressed to my satisfaction. You are free to go.
However, if you look around the room, you will see the video
cameras. A little tape has been made of your little adjustment. I
am sure the guys at the fraternity would love to see it. I am
sure they will wonder why you couldn't get away from some
helpless females. Even if they believe you, they will have their
doubts, and those doubts will be your downfall, my little helper.
They'll wonder about you,  wonder if you are a little bit queer,
whether you wanted it. Now if you choose to stay and work here
for the summer, well, I will see that the tapes are destroyed. Do
we have a deal?"

"What choice do I have?"

"None, precious. Now get your cute lttle buns out in the store
and get to work. There are customers waiting."

The new assistant opened the door. The store was full of
customers. The store  catered to an unusual clientle. There were
striking women, their clothes severe and dramatic. Young girls,
in bright styles came in, giggling. He noticed to his complete
surprise and relief that no one realized he wasn't what he so
very much appeared to be. He also noticed that some of the women
who came in the store were not what they appeared to be. They
were attractive in their designer clothing, and their high
fashion hairstyles, but something about them just wasn't right.
He realized they were men, men who dressed up as women. Queens as
the guys at the frat would say. He then realized to his complete
and utter shame, that he was a queen too, that he was more
feminine looking than any of the other "girls" in the room.
Shaken, he left the store. He wandered down the street,
forgetting temporarily how he was dressed. He heard whistles, and
catcalls, and suddenly realized that he was walking around, in
public, in a complete woman's outfit. He ran back into the store
as fast as his hi-heels would carry him. The woman looked at him,
told him to wait on the customers. He  did, for the rest of the
day. At closing the woman motioned for him to follow her into the
back room. The new assistant did so, walking carefully on the
stacked heels. She perched easily on a countertop.

"How did my new shopgirl enjoy her first day?"

Squirming. the boy said nothing. She smiled.

"I am sure you will come to love it here. Don't you look nice in
your litttle fit. I approve. It satisfies me almost completely.
Now I suggest you satisfy me totally." At that she lifted her
skirt. Her legs were long and deeply tanned, and tapered
beautifully to her full hips. " Now on your knees and show me
your devotion" She spread those shapely legs, and the boy
swallowing hard dipped his head to her beautiful crotch.

Afterwards,impersonally, she told him to show up for work, bright
and early the next day. She gave him a replacement for the suit
cut away by the girls just a few hours before. It seemed so much
longer somehow, a whole lifetime. Gratefully he changed back into
the slacks and shirt. After washing away the makeup, he went, red
faced and ashamed to the door. The woman handed him a suitcase,
told him to show up in the outfit it contained. Her voice was
quiet, the threat implicit in the sweet low tone. She grabbed his
wrist abruptly, and slipped an intricate ring on his finger. The
ring was ornate and carved seemingly from a block of pure gold,
its shape like that of a key in a lock.

 "This is our little symbol. Our society. You are a member, and
you are mine. Remember that." Shaken, the boy left, quickly, his
jaunty strut replaced by a quick, darting walk, as if looking for
cover from some dangerous force. Scared, trembling, upset, he
went straight to his room. He tried to sleep, tried to put the
day behind him, to forget the image reflected in the mirror, his
image of  himselfrozen and obscurred by that of the beautiful
girl. her eyes wide set below the blonde fringe of the upswept
bangs. He closed his eyes, felt them open again. His vision then
locked on the suitcase across the room. He forced them closed,
but the images danced before him. He got up, felt the chill of
the night on his now hairless body.

He hesitated across the room and worriedly opened the suitcase.
His eyes opened wide as he saw its hidden contents. Stunned, he
crawled under the covers, and grudgingly drifted off to a
shallow, flight filled sleep.

In the morning, he awoke. He hoped it was all a dream, his hopes
dashed by the sight of the suitcase. He arose slowly, suddenly
decisive. He dressed in a shirt and pants, grabbed the suitcase,
and left his apartment. He walked aimlessly, his mind racing, the
thoughts colliding. He had an idea, searched quickly through his
wallet. There it was, the alumni phone listing. There should be
someone who could help. Scanning the columns of fine print, he
saw the number for a local attorney who had graduated a few years
before. He jammed two dimes in the nearby pay phone, and dialed
the number.

The boy scaled the stairs to the third floor suite of offices.
The attorney was doing pretty well, the boy noting the fine
antique furiture in the spacious lobby.

"A brother in need. How can I be of assistance. " The attorney
entered the  office. He was tall and slender, with a full beard
and what appeared, somewhat  obviously, to be a man's wig. The
poor man had probably gone prematurely bald. The boy spilled out
his story, showed the young lawyer the exotic clothing in the
suitcase, the intricate ring. The lawyer, hands in his pockets
looked  thoughtful.

"I think we can work this out. First thing is for you to go to
work. Come here after lunch, and we can resolve the whole
siuation."

"Back to work?! I couldn't do that. I just couldn't do that."

"You'll have to. I need the time to work everything out. She
can't know that you talked to me. We have to keep her unaware."

"OK, I'll do it, I'll do it."

"Come here during your lunch break."

The boy showed up at the boutique. Under the withering glance of
the woman, he swiftly went to the back room, and began to change,
the girls helping with the wig, nails and makeup. This outfit was
tighter, and slinkier than the one he wore before. The sight of
the breastforms peeking through the low v neck of the dress,
exposing the chest. His chest was more than he could stand. The
morning dragged on, he thought lunch would never come. Finally
twelve noon rolled around.

"Only one hour for lunch. No time to change into those disgusting
male clothes"

The boy, upset, left the store. He felt so foolish in the skimpy
outfit. He  hurried across the town to the office, saw his image,
the sexy young girl, in  the mirrored door of the office
building, and felt the shame course through his body. He climbed
the stairs, felt the draft of the air conditioner swirl under the
short skirt. He reached the office, grateful for the seclusion of
the office. The receptionist and secretaries were gone. He called
out into the empty room.

"Be with you in a minute" the lawyer answered from the adjoining
office. The boy sat, awkwardly in the tight little skirt.
"Everything is under control.  Relax, I'll be out in just a few
minutes. You know, a lawyer's life is an interesting one. It
turns out that I have had prior dealings with your boss. She's
not a client, but we belong to the same club. We are both
interested in reforms, in my case, reforms in the legal
profession. Did you know that the laws are ridiculous, so
outdated that many of today's social changes, and lifestyles are
not yet formally recognized.

"What are you talking about, I am not sure what you mean?"

"Well, for instance, a lawyer I know is forced to hide completely
his lifestyle because the bar wouldn't approve. He dresses, acts
and eight hours a day is  completely respectable, the other
sixteen, he leads a rather different life."

"What does that have to do with anything? And am I going to talk
to a closed door all day?"

"No. I will be out shortly. Relax, the solution is close at
hand."

The door crept open, and the lawyer stepped into the room. The
boy's mouth hung open. His eyes blinked rapidly.

"Now do you understand a little better my little cause?" the
lawyer's voice took on a different pitch, lower but sweet. The
lawyer swung into the room. The boy saw on the floor in the
adjoining room the business suit, and the toupee. He  looked up
at the lawyer.

The lawyer swept back the long thick hair kept coiled beneath the
male wig. The hair was rich, its nutmeg strands a wild mane, the
loose tendrils of long hair sweeping to the shoulders. The
shoulders were bared by the strapless gown, and the low neckline
exposed the full, pert breasts. The boy stared at them
incomprehensibly.

"I just hate having to bind my breasts, but the bar just wouldn't
understand. I just love to show them off." The lawyer pirouetted
on the high heels, legs long and tan and tapered amply displayed
by the swirling skirt of the sexy gown. The lawyer turned to the
boy.

"Great fanny too." The boy looked, saw the lawyers plump but
shapely derriere.

"Quiet. Now do as you were told."

The boy dipped his head towards the lawyer's crotch. Why would
this beautiful lady have to dress as a man? There were plenty of
successful woman attornies in the world. He pulled at the lawyers
silky briefs. Suddenly he understood. He hesitated, felt the
lawyer tense, heard the anger build in the lawyer's terse
exclamation.

"I told you to show me your devotion. Do the tapes have to be
delivered to the good old frat house today?"

The boy froze.  He knelt there on the floor, the short slinky
dress riding up to show the full expanse of the smooth, hairless
legs. The heels dug painfully  into his derriere. He felt the
strands of the sexy wig caress gently at his  neck. The lipstick
tasted unique as he ran his tounge nervously over his lips. He
felt the long lashes brushing against his eyelids, he couldn't
seem to stop blinking. He ran his hands together nervously, the
nails long and red. He caught a glimpse of his image in the wall
mirror, saw this sweet, sexy young girl posed before what seemed
to be a dramatically attractive woman. The guys just wouldn't
understand. He bent down, took the lawyers large, thick erection
slowly and fully into his mouth.