Bossed Into Panties

by Karen Petties

    

Chapter 22 Another embarrassing wedding

Once at the church, Peter managed to catch up with Lucy in her flowing white dress, waiting just outside the entrance. "Lucy…. I um… I…. c… c… can't go through with this" he stuttered. "I'll b… b… be so humiliated, the l… l…laughing stock. "

"Do what? Humiliate YOU?" Lucy replied. "I've got the most to lose from this if anything goes wrong. If anyone recognizes you, the most important day of my life will be ruined.  It'll be a complete and utter shambles. Do you think I want to see YOU becoming the centre of attention rather than me? Now stop being ridiculous, and try and behave like an adult" she scolded, looking at him in his childish, frilly dress and trying not to smile.

Having deflated him, she softened her tone a little and tried to reassure him. "Listen, you'll be fine. You look a really sweet girl… maybe a little grown-up to be in that dress but no-one's going to know who you are. Pull yourself together now." Lucy was happy that she seemed to have settled him down again and amazed that she'd managed to sound as convincing as she did. The reality of the situation, was that she'd discussed it all with her fiancée and most people had been warned what to expect. She also had no intention of him appearing in any of the photos nor at the reception afterwards. There were carefully worked plans afoot to take care of him after the ceremony. She didn't tell him this of course, but all he would have to endure was the walk down the aisle. Huh! A little walk down the aisle as a young bridesmaid, with a hundred pairs of eyes trained on him. Yes, that was ALL!

Peter entered the imposing church with trepidation and immediately absorbed the solemn atmosphere. Churches sent shivers down his spine at the best of times. He joined the wedding party at the back of the vast building. The organ was playing softly and everyone was busily exchanging hushed whispers and nervous smiles. He got into his position and the organ began the wedding march. Peter took a deep breath. This was it then. He took a small step forward, his eyes looking down demurely. The walk up the aisle had been carefully organised. Lucy led the way on her proud father's arm, her dress swaying gently and looking as radiant as any bride on her special day. Following behind in a line were Christine, Carol, Peter and then Fiona at the back.

It was Peter's worst nightmare. Each bridesmaid was escorted by a smartly presented groomsman in a dark suit, bow tie and white gloves, walking hand in hand with the girls. The slow, measured, almost mincing steps caused the bridesmaids full skirted satin dresses to sweep tantalizingly against their male escort's legs. For the two older girls in their full length dresses, this meant that their skirts brushed against their escort's calves. But in Peter's case, his lavishly filled knee length skirt was held out almost horizontally from his waist and created the most wonderful frou-frou effect. With every step, the sumptuous layers of floaty petticoats gently wrapped themselves around his partner's thighs in a froth of rustling white lace. It was an intriguing sight and was generating a fairly typical response within the confines of the young man's pants. All of this simply added to the amusement for young Fiona and her little groomsman following a few steps behind, and brought sniggering whispers from the congregation.

As the bride and groom reached the altar, they took up their places with the four bridesmaids and the groomsmen lined up behind. Then, in an unexpected but well rehearsed and co-ordinated move, each of the girls, Peter included, turned to face the congregation. There was a moment of hushed anticipation as the bridesmaids stood with their hands at their sides. They raised their skirts a few tantalising inches. But for Peter and Sophie with their knee length dresses, they were faced with having to take the hem of their skirts between thumb and middle finger and lift the hem to uncover the foaming white lace petticoats beneath. In Peter's case, his dress was not only short but so well puffed out by his underskirts, that he had to lift the skirt above his waist in order to show the requisite amount of petticoat, just as Lucy had instructed.

The girls paused for a moment as a pronounced silence descended on the waiting audience. In particular, the attention of the male members of the congregation was quickly drawn to the display of Peter's pretty white lace petticoats and the thought of what lay beneath. Peter blushed profusely and his face burned. As he looked around the congregation he could feel every pair of eyes trained on his tantalising display. Suddenly, he went weak at the knees. In the third row, he recognised his teenage sister Anne and her boyfriend. Shit! What the hell was she doing there? He hadn't seen, nor spoken to any of his family for weeks and the last person he expected to see was his little sister. She smiled, trying to suppress a giggle, and whispered behind her hand to her boyfriend who also had a beaming smile on his face. He nodded, then held his camera up.

FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.

"Bastard" Peter muttered under his breath, momentarily blinded. Even if his little sister was watching, he knew he'd have to try and ignore them if he was going to go through with this charade. He turned his attention back to the front row, where the girls were still waiting patiently for the signal from the bride's mother. He'd been holding the hem of his skirt for what seemed like an eternity until finally, Lucy's mother gave a simple wave of her hand. In unison, the girls bent at the knees, dragged their right foot back behind the left foot and pointed their toes down, whilst tilting their head slightly to the left and bowing demurely. It was the most graceful and perfectly orchestrated of curtsies and brought a loud chorus of 'aaaaaagh' as well as a few giggles from the female members of the congregation.

"Quick… hurry up. He's doing his curtsey" his sister laughed, urging her boyfriend to get some more shots.

FLASH. FLASH. FLASH. FLASH. FLASH. FLASH. This time there were cameras going off all over the church.

Standing up straight again, the girls released their skirts and turned to face the altar once more. The vicar smiled in anticipation and was dutifully rewarded when they repeated their charming curtsey for his benefit. This time Peter sensed both the vicar and the entire choir staring at his teasing display of frothy female undergarments. Once again, it was a delightfully synchronised show of femininity that had the entire choir sniggering and whispering to each other. Even the vicar gave Peter an embarrassed little smile, before directing the girls to kneel.

The groomsmen followed suit and placed a protective arm around the sash tied waists of their partners. Peter frowned at the intimacy and embarrassment of the elaborate proceedings and shivered at the touch of his partner's hand holding him tightly around the waist and squashing himself against Peter's dress. The young man clearly wasn't at all embarrassed. In fact he appeared to be rather smitten by the pretty bridesmaid at his side and positively enjoying himself. Peter tried to shuffle sideways to create a little distance between them but the young lad responded by clutching him ever more tightly and pulling him back. In doing so, Peter's bouffant skirts scrunched up delightfully around his thighs and the lacy petticoats tickled the back of his legs, adding to the swelling of his very unfeminine but thankfully well hidden penis, safely tucked away in the frilly panties.

As they began the first hymn, Christine looked across at him and smiled. He'd never admit it but she knew how much he enjoyed the dress he was wearing, though he'd be hating all this public attention. He returned her smile with a defiant and poker faced glare. She continued to smile as she leant over to Peter's escort and whispered in his ear. The lad smiled back and only just managed to suppress a giggle. Peter stared at Christine, wondering what on earth she'd just said, his face colouring up. Then she whispered in the boy's ear again. This time he laughed quietly and whispered something back. Peter couldn't stand it any longer and asked the boy what she'd just said. He was still quietly sniggering as he whispered back in Peter's ear. "She says you're wearing stockings, and pink satin panties."

"Yeah? Big deal!" Peter glowered at Christine again.

The boy paused for a moment. "She said they're smothered in cute little frills, just like a little baby girl's panties."

"So what!" Peter hissed. "What's so interesting about a pair of panties, you jerk."

"Nothing really…. except when they're being worn by a guy!" he smiled.

Peter's jaw dropped like a brick and he wriggled and tried to squirm away, his face crimson with embarrassment.

The boy continued, "you just wait till I get you back to the reception. I've got a cracking hard-on and I'm going to have that skirt up and those little frilly panties down… and then…. you know what comes next don't you, girly?" he laughed, and let his hand drop onto Peter bottom. "Like a rat up a drainpipe" he breathed heavily into Peter's ear.

Peter wriggled some more and tried unsuccessfully to push his groping hand away, an act that didn't go unnoticed by Lucy's relatives sitting in the front row. At the same time, his penis was now standing to attention, poking out the front of his baby pink panties and for once, he was grateful for the added layers that disguised any signs of arousal.

Throughout the remainder of the ceremony, Peter had to endure the taunting whispers and suggestive comments from the young man. Finally, and thankfully for Peter, the vicar turned to the groom, smiled, and told him he could kiss the bride. There were sighs from the congregation and the flash of cameras as the happy couple lovingly embraced. The groom then raised the bride's veil and gave her a passionate kiss.

The congregation loved it but there was one final act to follow, an ordeal Peter was absolutely dreading. The groomsmen turned to the bridesmaids and put their hands on their tightly sashed waists. Apart from Fiona, who was considered far too young, each of the girls then stepped forward and put their hands on their partner's shoulders. Peter was hating every second of it. Despite the volume of his petticoats now crushed between them, he was so close that he could feel the boy's hard-on pressing against his chest. All the same, he did as Lucy had instructed and followed the other girls, staring into the young man's eyes as he raised himself up on tip-toe and clasped his hands around the boy's neck. Peter felt his heart racing. His breathing quickened and there were those all too familiar stirrings within his panties again.

There were more aaaaagh's from the congregation. Peter followed the other bridesmaids and gave his partner a nice smile, puckered his glossy painted lips, then planted an affectionate and tender kiss on the boy's lips before gently closing his eyes as if he were about to swoon. Lucy had told them to count to six… slowly! Peter reluctantly held the kiss and began to count. Opening his eyes a little, he caught sight of his sister again. Jesus Christ, his little sister was actually watching him kiss another guy! She smiled back at him and puckered her lips in sheer mockery whilst her boyfriend hurriedly took more photos. Peter cringed with shame, then jumped when he felt strong hands around his waist, holding him tightly against what had to be, a very stiff manhood. Peter had barely reached a count of three when he felt an insistent tongue begin to invade his mouth. No-one had told him about that! He was being French-kissed and he began to panic. Four… and the tongue was searching for his own…. Five… and a hand held the back of his head firmly whilst he struggled, and the tongue entangled with his own. Six… and finally he managed to break free but not before the young man had whispered in his ear. "Can you feel my cock, you sexy little minx… just wait till I get you into bed."

Peter was so grateful it was finally all over and the bride and groom went to sign the register at the front of the church. In fact he was almost glad when Jan and Sylvia came over and led him away. He'd never been so pleased to see them! Anything, to get away from that horny young man and his wandering hands.

"What did you think of your groomsman, Peter?"

He gave Sylvia a filthy look.

"Oh come on, don't play the innocent. Remember, we were there on your wedding night when you were all too ready to give yourself to that rather fit young man. Anyway, it's obvious you're interested and he's clearly got the hots for you. He practically had his hand up your skirt, and that snog at the end was a real giveaway. I think he's dead cute, don't you Jan?" Sylvia mocked him.

"Mmm, gorgeous" she agreed. "Oh Peter darling, I can tell he's going to be all over you like a rash at the reception. Just imagine that gorgeous hunk taking you to bed and that cute little ass of his bobbing up and down as he fills you with his big poker" she giggled.

"What a night to look forward to, eh?" Sylvia tried to reassure him. "Whenever I'm a bridesmaid I always end up getting a lovely shag at the reception. But tonight it's your turn sweetheart… and I'm SO jealous" she laughed.

"Let me go" he struggled but as they reached a dark alcove, they were confronted by some of the boys from the choir who took a firm grip of his arms. Peter was really frightened now. Throughout the ceremony he'd noticed several of the choirboys looking his way and whispering to each other.

"Don't be shy, Peter. These nice boys will look after you now" Jan smiled.

Peter struggled but the boys, in their long black tunics, led him away in a flurry of lacy white frills toward a confessional box where he was unceremoniously thrust inside.

Jan nudged Sylvia. "What shall we do now?"

She smiled back. "Just let them get on with it. This nice little ending to the proceedings has cost me a good few drinks so they'd better do a good job. I'll wait here for him if you want to go. I promised I'd run him back to the Shepherd's house afterwards."

"Oh, so he's not going to the reception then?"

"No, you've got to be joking. Lucy doesn't want him anywhere near it. Seeing him walk up the aisle as a bridesmaid was one thing. She doesn't want her day ruined."

"No, well I don't blame her" Jan agreed.

Inside the dark and cramped confessional, Peter was forced to sit in a flurry of rustling organza petticoats and held down by two rather well built young lads. The air was musty and smelled of bad breath and his eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness.

"Bless this young man, Father, for he has sinned" one of them half whispered.

"Yes my son?" came the voice from the darkness next door.

"He likes to wear girl's dresses, Father. Today, he's dressed up as a bridesmaid."

"A bridesmaid? I see. Well, God is patient and forgiving but he must stop this abhorrent behaviour. He must say four 'Our Fathers' and five 'Hail Mary's' and a 'Glory Be', and his sins will be forgiven."

The boys giggled.

"Thank you Father but it's not just the dress. His hair is full of curls and his face is made-up like a girl. He's also wearing petticoats underneath his dress which is forcing his skirt to stand out, with his stocking tops on show whenever he bends over. I'm afraid to say Father…. that we also believe…. "

Yes…?"

"We also believe that under the petticoats, he's wearing…."

"Wearing what….?"

"That he's wearing panties, Father."

There was silence then… "girl's panties?"

"Yes Father."

"Really? Ahem…. how can you be sure of this… let me see."

"Yes Father" and with that, one of the boys yanked the hem of Peter's skirt up to reveal a mass of frilled petticoats, lace topped stockings, long satin suspender straps, and finally those dreaded pink frilly panties. The boys stared at the mass of frills with Peter's name embarassingly embroidered on the front.

"You see Father, he's wearing everything that a young girl would wear and he even has his name on the panties."

"Hmmm, I see."

"He was also flirting and kissing one of the groomsmen during the ceremony and eying up some of the boys in the choir."

"Was he now?" At that point, the curtain was pulled back and Peter could just make out a shadowy figure in the adjoining confessional box. "Closer" he instructed. "Let me see this sinner."

Peter was stood up and pressed against the small opening with his skirts held up round his waist. A hand slipped through and touched him through the frilled panties. Peter struggled, trying to shake them off and telling them to leave him alone but he couldn't prevent the hand from brushing across the pink satin, gently massaging his boyish equipment. He didn't want to but he was enjoying being touched and he knew his penis was becoming aroused. Expert fingers teased the sensitive glans, and he began to groan, feeling light headed, almost dizzy with the skilful groping.

"Hush, my boy. Do you want everyone to see you? It's quite evident from your reaction down here that you enjoy dressing as a girl, and no doubt you take great pleasure in leading my boys on. We need to test your resolve my son. Kneel down." Peter felt himself being pushed to the floor. From the darkness, there was the unmistakable sound of a zipper, then through the small opening a good sized cock appeared. "Take it my son. Cleanse the evil inside you and be sure that God will forgive you."

"Oh no…."

The boys sniggered. "Go on, take it you sissy" one of them urged. Peter shook his head but he suddenly found the thick member forced between his painted lips.

"Come on my son. You know what you have to do. Oooooh that's it, swallow it boy, that's right."

"Father. His penis is responding" one of the boys said, groping under Peter's skirts as they forced his lips back and forth along the length of the swollen manhood leaving a trail of lipstick.

Peter could sense what was going to happen. There was that strange penile throbbing that always signalled a forthcoming orgasm. Right on cue, he felt the warm liquid splashing the back of his mouth.

"Oooh, that's right. Swallow it, my boy."

"Father, he's got a hard-on. He's enjoying himself, just as a girl would respond when pleasuring her husband in the privacy of their bedroom."

"Hmmm, that won't do at all. He must say another ten Hail Mary's, and he'd better make a contribution to the poor. Do you have the plate ready, boys?"

"Yes Father."

One of the choir boys produced a brass collection plate whilst Peter was stood back up with his arms held tightly behind him. His petticoats were held around his waist whilst one of the boys slipped the frilly panties off. "I'll keep these as a little memento" he laughed, stuffing them into a pocket. Peter shivered as he felt the icy cold plate beneath his swollen penis. He desperately wanted to cry out.

From the adjacent confessional, the hand again snaked through the opening, took Peter's stiff little penis and began to rub him gently against the cold plate whilst Peter groaned.

"Sssssh" the voice from the dark whispered. The manipulation speeded up. Peter was rock hard and moments later, he couldn't hold back any longer, splashing a jet of hot semen across the polished plate.

Amidst general laughter from the boys, a smiling fresh faced young choirboy leaned through the opening. "You dirty little pervert. You better get out of here, and don't you dare say anything or we'll give it to you up the ass next time" he laughed.

They pushed his skirts down, opened the confessional door and pushed him out. Sylvia took over and led the dishevelled and distressed bridesmaid in silence toward her car. Suddenly, Peter paused. He knew the car.

"That's my car. You're driving my car!"

"Oh I've just been keeping the battery charged. Don't worry, it will all be sorted out once you get back to work. Now come on, don't dither" she urged and ushered him inside. He was sobbing quietly and his mascara was running down his cheeks. "Come on don't be a baby, it's all over now. I'm driving you home" she announced. His ears pricked up at the thought of home. "You must have had a nice time with the boys then?" He sat silently, thinking that at last it was finally all over and at last he was going home.

"You were ages, thought you were never coming out" she laughed. "Oh, and your groomsman was really upset you couldn't make the reception. I think he fancied his chances" she giggled. "Don't worry though, I gave him your number, OK?"

Again, he said nothing, then. "Hey, wait a minute. This isn't the way" he cried, as she headed off in the direction of his boss's house.

Chapter 23 A hell of a day at the office

A few days after Peter's embarrassing appearance as a bridesmaid at the local church, he'd sufficiently recovered for Mrs Shepherd to inform him that he was to return to work. She told him she'd taken a call from the office and that he should report to the Personnel department early the next morning.

Shivers ran up his spine at the prospect of returning to work and of what lay ahead but at least he now had an opportunity to clear things up and get his life back to normal. He was quite confident that Personnel would be absolutely horrified at what he'd had to endure and would give him every support in punishing those responsible. The girls in his office would pay the price for what they'd put him through, he smiled to himself.

Tessa woke him early the next day and he had a quick bath. He was a little anxious but also quite excited. The thought of wearing normal male clothes again and getting back to work spurred him on. Wrapped in a large fluffy towel, he went in search of something to wear and surveyed the wardrobes. They were still full of dresses. "Look, I can't go to work in any of this stuff" he complained to Tessa. "I'll have to go home and pick up some clothes first" he told her.

"Home? There's no time for that. Besides, Mrs Shepherd has looked out some suitable things for you. They're on the bed. Pop them on, and as it's your first day back, I'll run you to work in the car."

Waiting on the bed for him was a plain white camisole and panties. He automatically went to put them on, then realised what he was doing. He was about to say something but as he thought about it, he realised they would at least be hidden. What was more important was what he'd be wearing on top. Next to the underwear was a simple white blouse and a pair of women's slim fitting grey slacks. It was difficult to say whether they were a man's shirt and slacks or a woman's, and Peter merely assumed they were for a man. Even the shoes were non-descript slip-ons, and unisex in style.

He returned to the undies, noticing a hint of lace around the panties, and the ribbon straps of the flimsy camisole. Suddenly there was a look of panic in his eyes. "Look, I can't go to work dressed in… in…. girl's panties" he complained, holding them up. "I'll have to go home and change?"

"Oh for heaven's sake. They're dead plain and besides, no-one is going to see them are they? Or are you planning on stripping off in front of all the girls? Look, no-one will suspect a thing" she said, holding up the simple blouse. It's casual dress at your office isn't it, and everyone wears unisex stuff these days. Live a little will you?"

"Huh. I'll see what they look like on, but if they look the least bit girly, I'm off home" he grunted.

He quickly dressed. The clothes were completely ordinary and unfussy compared with the frills and flounces of the outrageous underwear and dresses he'd become accustomed to wearing recently. If only he'd been able to get his hair cut, he sighed, looking at his almost shoulder length hair in the mirror. "Well, not bad" he said aloud, sounding pleased with himself.

Tessa smiled. After the outfits they'd conditioned him into wearing, anything less frilly would seem quite masculine to him now.

Peter felt strange without his full skirted, petticoat supported dress, and having no make-up on. For the first time in weeks, he actually felt like a man again, and he genuinely felt that he looked like one.

Tessa checked him over. "See, you're fine, a regular guy" she reassured him. He hardly looked that masculine but on the other hand, nothing he was wearing was overtly feminine either. Except that…. the blouse buttoned on the 'wrong' side of course, the collar was soft and rounded and the full sleeves were slightly gathered at the wrist. The real giveaway though, if you looked carefully, were the little breast darts. She smiled as she wondered how long it would be before someone noticed them. She'd loved to have given him a lacy bra to fill the blouse a little but he'd never agree to that of course.

The slacks were also quite plain, but once again if you looked closely, there were those subtle differences. Made from a lightweight polyester that showed a teasing panty line underneath, they fitted like a glove around the contours of his rounded bottom, pulling seductively into the crease between his cheeks. No guy would ever want to wear slacks that showed his ass off like that, she smiled. A girl with a neat bottom likes to flaunt it but a man would be far more conservative. Then there was the tell-tale zip at the side, meaning of course that there was no fly opening at the front. Indeed, they were fairly tight fitting and it was fortunate that his little boy parts weren't more prominent.

"There. You see. Just a normal guy," she lied with a little smile on her face. The men at his office probably wouldn't spot these differences immediately, but any girl would clock them straight away, she thought, trying to imagine their reaction.

"Hmm, I suppose they're OK" he replied. Like a lot of guys, he was blinded to the minor details she was observing. All he could see was a shirt with the hint of a vest underneath, and a pair of casual slacks.

He felt as nervous as hell walking into the office that morning. It was like his very first day at school. Thankfully it was early and there were few people about to notice him. Even the Receptionist called out 'Hi, nice holiday?' without batting an eyelid, though she'd immediately noticed the puffy sleeves of his blouse. So far, so good. 'Yep, just a regular guy' he smiled, trying to boost his confidence. He made his way up to Personnel. The office was still empty but Claire, one of the HR managers he knew well, had arrived early and was waiting in her office for him.

"Come in" she beckoned.

"Fancy a coffee" he asked in a relaxed manner.

"No. No coffee. Sit down, Peter. Well, this is quite a turnabout from our last meeting" she said, her sharp eye immediately noticing his female slacks with their side zip and the white blouse with its puffy sleeves. Mind you, the last time she'd seen him at work was at the pre-Christmas fancy dress party, where he'd been wearing a pair of girl's skin tight hot pants and a see-through blouse, and his fiancée had drenched him in perfume. She smiled as she remembered the way all the girls, including herself, had enjoyed teasing him rotten that night.

As ever, Peter couldn't resist a pretty girl, and his lecherous gaze dropped to the hem of Claire's skirt and her shapely thighs. She recalled the way he'd tried to look up her skirt at the party and self-consciously moved her legs together and tugged her short skirt down. It really annoyed her the way he used every opportunity to look up her skirt especially after everything that had happened. My God, he was openly staring at her legs. She was really furious now.

Indeed, his eyes were clearly focused on the little gap between her shapely thighs, where her tight fitting skirt wasn't quite long enough to hide a tantalising glimpse of her white panties. He had a silly smirk on his face which she couldn't fail to notice.

"Peter!" she snapped, suddenly bringing his eyes back up to meet her steely look. "Do you realise the seriousness of the position you're in?" His innocent expression told her he hadn't a clue what she was about to say. "Today, I'm giving you a written warning for the highly unprofessional manner in which you have been managing your staff, and the… er… I mean the um…. well, your cross-dressing and other… um activities that have come to light over the last few weeks whilst you've been away. You're very fortunate not to have already been dismissed, Peter. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

To anyone else it probably wouldn't have come as a complete shock but for Peter, it felt like he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning. Just as he thought he was finally going to get some sympathy, some consideration, some help to sort everything out, he was getting another kick in the teeth. He slumped down in his chair, speechless. He'd worked his guts out to become one of the most successful young managers in the company. How had it all gone so wrong? He looked down at the floor. Claire was staring at him but he couldn't look at her. It was if a huge dark cloud had descended on him and he could feel his eyes welling up.

She continued in her professional HR voice. "You must know you can't go around wearing women's clothes and taking advantage of the girls in your office and then expect to get away with it. You're a manager for heaven's sake" she said indignantly. Peter was about to say something when the memories came flooding back: being caught in Sylvia's nightie; wearing bridal panties to his wedding; the wedding night in Debbie's bridal gown, going to church dressed as a bridesmaid. Only these weren't simply memories, they were embarrassing nightmares.

"Now then, I can understand if you feel the need to resign."

He looked up in amazement as she waited for a response, but he was silent.

"Hmm, I see. Well, of course, in light of what's happened, we wouldn't be able to give you a reference for another employer."

He had a look of complete panic in his eyes.

"If you decide to stay, you'll naturally have to prove to us that you can be a model employee and impeccably behaved. If you can do that, we may re-consider the possibility of a reference, in the future. Do you understand?"

He looked up at her blankly, still dazed.

"I said. Do you understand, Peter?" she repeated in a firm voice.

"Yes… yes" he muttered, finding it hard to take in what she was saying. He realised though, that he couldn't leave without a reference, not in the current job climate anyway.

"Good" she sounded relieved. "Well that's cleared the air and now I can at least move on to more… positive things. Now then, as a result of everything that's happened, we've had to make some er…. organisational changes."

Peter glanced at the organisation chart she was pushing toward him. He looked puzzled. His name was not in its usual place at the top of the Finance department. Instead, Sylvia's name appeared. "Jesus, she's got my job" he blurted out.

"Yes. She's done remarkably well, especially since you've been away. She's really turned the department around and everyone seems to be getting behind her. She's also been very thorough in helping with the investigation into your… um… indiscretions. Yes, she really deserves her promotion" Claire smiled.

"Bloody hell" he sighed. "So… um… I don't see my name anywhere here" he said, looking worried.

"Well no… you're transferring over to…. here" she replied pointing further along the chart.

"That's the Typing Pool" he said angrily.

"No Peter. It's not the Typing Pool. It's The Secretarial Resource Centre" she corrected him with an impatient tone.

"But I can't manage that, I don't know the first thing about it. I'm a finance man for God's sake."

"No that's right, you don't have any experience. That's why you won't be managing it."

"No?" he sounded relieved, but then looked worried.

"You'll be reporting to Fiona Harris."

"Fiona? But she's just a… a supervisor. I can't report to a bloody supervisor. Are you trying to tell me that I'm going to be a… a… secretary or something?" he laughed.

"No, no of course not. You said yourself you don't have any secretarial skills so we can hardly appoint you to that role, now can we?"

"Well there's only secretaries and…. and… typists. You don't mean to say I'm going to be a… a bloody typist?"

"And can you type?"

"What do you mean? I'm a manager. Of course I can't type. You know I can't."

"No. Precisely. That's exactly why you're not going to be a typist either." She eyed him up for a moment before a smile slowly spread across her face. She was beginning to enjoy herself now. "You'll be starting as our new…. 'trainee' typist." She was smiling now.

He was speechless again. His cheeks burned bright red and he suddenly felt faint and reached for a glass of water. Unfortunately, Claire was far from finished with him though.

"I'm afraid we've had to demote you, Peter…. four grades to be precise. You'll be staring at level 1 again so you'll need to be aware of your new status and responsibilities. From now on, you will address all managers by their last name, according to company policy. The policy you helped write, remember? So from now on, my name isn't Claire. It's… Miss Simmonds" she added, firmly.

"Uh?"

"Miss Simmonds. That's my name" she repeated.

"Oh look Claire, for God's sake…"

"Ahem" she interrupted him with a glare. "Are you deaf? Surely I don't have to repeat myself again, Peter?" She sounded very annoyed. "You will refer to me as Miss Simmonds. Now, have I made myself clear?"

His face was completely blank.

"You should look on your new role as good experience in another part of the organisation. It also means that the company will be increasing it's diversity and tolerance of minority groups" she said, leaving him looking bemused.

"What….?"

"A cross-dresser in the organisation will be excellent for the statistics" she explained. "Oh and as a consequence, we've had to do a few other things as well. We've had the Finance department… well it was Sylvia's idea really… run over all your personal finances. As a result I'm afraid to say, that on your new salary as a trainee typist, your apartment has had to go, also the expensive car. You wouldn't have been able to make the repayments on the mortgage, nor the car loan for that matter. However, you'll be pleased to hear that Mr Shepherd was kind enough to agree to the Company buying both the apartment and the car and repaying the mortgage and the loan on your behalf. Very generous in the circumstances."

"But my apartment…. and my car…. what's happened to them… I don't understand, Claire… er…. I mean… Miss Simmonds."

"I've got all the papers here for you to sign. We've cleared your apartment and started to use it for visiting managers from our regional offices.

"But… Miss Simmonds, what's happened to all my stuff… where are all my clothes…. everything I own?"

"Collected by a charity shop as I understand it. Oh yes, but there were a few personal items we kept for you, of course" and she reached under her desk for a cardboard box. She produced several rather embarrassing items of ladies clothing. "Here we are then" and she handed him a nylon slip, a nightdress, stockings, and three pairs of panties. "They found them hidden in your wardrobe. Yours I believe? We thought you'd want to keep them."

"Um, my ex-girlfriend's stuff" he muttered, his hands shaking as he held the feminine underwear.

"Oh, yes of course. And these?" she enquired, presenting him with a very frilly baby doll nightie together with a little pair of matching panties."

"Oh my God… well they're not mine either. You see… it's… um… it's Sheri's nightie" he replied. "She's one of the girls in my… um… in the Finance department.

"Yes I'm aware of that. And as I understand, it was a very special item of lingerie that she'd had made for a very special occasion, wasn't it?"

He looked dumbstruck.

"A bride likes to have something pretty and girly, something sheer and sexy to wear for her man on her first night with him. This is her wedding night lingerie, isn't it? At least that was the plan until she caught you wearing it!" Claire was enjoying watching him squirm and she had yet another surprise.

"And then of course, we found these" she said, stacking a pile of videos on the desk.

"Oh shit." He swallowed hard. "Yeah well….they're just old blank tapes, you can take them down the charity as well" he said quickly.

"We did but they refused to take them. Can you think why that might be? Hmmm? Well let's see what we have here shall we, just in case there's anything you'd like to keep. Now then… 'Sweet Black Boys' and mmm, this one sounds interesting…. 'Virgin Shemale Bride'…. 'Bondage Boy Toys'…. 'Shemale Surprise'…. 'Hung Heroes'… 'Ladyboy Lessons'…. and…. 'Brazilian Shemale Whore'. Well, well, well. Are you sure you don't want to keep them, not even one? I bet you've got a favourite, haven't you? Which is it, hmmm?"

"Look…. some stupid company got my address and I couldn't stop them arriving."

"Oh yes I see" she said in a sarcastic voice.

He swallowed hard. "Um… and what about my car" he enquired, quickly trying to change the subject.

"Aren't you forgetting something when you address me?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry…. Miss Simmonds. What's happened to my car, Miss Simmonds?"

"Your car? Well, the Board have decided that the new Finance manager role should be upgraded and that the manager would be provided with a company vehicle."

"A company car? But that means…" he said meekly as the penny dropped.

"Yes that's right…. Sylvia is now entitled to a company car. She's ordered a brand new one but for the time being we've let her have a pool car. Your car, to be precise."

Peter was absolutely gutted. The girl who'd taken his job was driving around in his car. This wasn't happening, he kept telling himself. "But where am I supposed to live…. and what about a car, what am I supposed to drive?"

Claire laughed. "Well you're very lucky. As you know, Mr Shepherd has arranged for you to stay at his house while you're working on his… special project. It's a bit hush-hush and no-one seems to know much about it but I understand his wife is heavily pregnant and that you'll be taking over some of the things she's normally involved with. Oh and the car… well… they're very expensive to run. I think you're better off using the bus for a while."

"Ohmygod" he exclaimed.

"Yes, well I think that's covered everything I had to say. You'll find it all in writing in my letter. Now then, any questions?"

Of all the things racing through his mind, he could only muster one rather stupid question which he asked in a very quiet, pathetic voice. "Um… well yes… Miss Simmonds… um, what about the… er… the… uniform?"

"The uniform? Oh, you mean for the girls in the Secretarial Resource Centre" she smiled.

"Yes."

"Of course. You want to look the same as the other girls, don't you?"

"NO! Well… I mean… it would hardly be appropriate, would it?"

"Why? Don't you like it? I seem to remember that you were one of the managers on the panel that chose it. You can hardly object to something that you helped to introduce."

"Yes but… well it's girl's stuff… I mean… I can't be seen around the office dressed like that, can I… Miss Simmonds… please."

"Look, I can't answer all these detailed questions. You'll have to talk to Fiona about it. She is after all, responsible for the Secretarial Resource Centre, and she will of course be your new manager. She should be just outside. I'll call her in and she can take over from here." She opened the door, where the tall rather daunting figure of the young supervisor was patiently waiting for him.

Chapter 24 The new girl

Fiona wasn't pleased. Peter had always been very critical of her department and she didn't understand why she'd now been lumbered with him. She looked him over in a condescending fashion, immediately noticing the feminine blouse and slacks, and told him to follow her downstairs.

"I don't like this any more than you do but I promise you one thing. You step out of line and you'll be out of my department and out of a job so fast, your feet won't touch the ground. However, as long as you behave yourself, I'm prepared to forget the past. I'll be as fair with you as I am with the other girls. I'll put your bad attitude to one side and treat you as just another new girl, right?"

"Oh… er… yes, I suppose" he said meekly. "Er… new girl?" he asked breathlessly, trying to keep up with her, but she simply ignored him.

"Um Fiona… what about the…. the… um… uniform?" his voice quivered, hardly daring to ask.

"You mean, Miss Harris" she corrected him.

"Oh um yes. Yes, but what about the uniform… Miss Harris."

This time she replied, though rather curtly. "You mean the one that YOU picked?"

"Er….. well, yes I suppose so."

"Well? What about it?"

"Well, I won't have to… well that is… I mean… I won't have to um… I won't have to wear the same… you know… the same as the girls will I… obviously?"

She stopped, turned to face him and glared. "Don't be ridiculous!" she said with derision, then carried on walking.

"Oh… right" he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "For a moment, I thought…."

She interrupted him as she stopped again, quite abruptly. "We've something far more appropriate for YOU" she retorted, and turned into the large office with 'Secretarial Resource Centre' emblazoned across the door. It was a large open plan office and it was to be his new home. It was so different to what he'd been used to. She pointed to an empty desk in the corner. "That's yours" she told him.

Peter looked at the small, rather functional desk with its very basic typist's chair and…. an absolutely ancient typewriter sitting on top. A typewriter? He looked around. Every other desk was larger than his, had a more comfortable chair, and more importantly, had a new PC. "Where's my computer?" he looked confused.

"Trainee's start off with a typewriter" she replied. "Once you can type and you've got your speeds up, we'll maybe see about a PC."

He was now surrounded by the rest of the department, ten rather curious, giggling, and identically dressed young women that Fiona had personally selected for their pretty faces and curvy figures rather than their secretarial skills or typing speeds. She had the difficult task of getting the new function up and running and persuading the managers to dispense with their secretaries and use hers instead. With over ninety per cent of the managers being male, she needed girls that weren't afraid to show off their assets, and use their feminine guile to win over the men. Flirting, chatting up and teasing were positively encouraged, and over a coffee, the girls would often giggle about their latest exploits and rank the men in terms of gullibility.

'A load of brainless bimbos' was how Peter had once described them, and now as he surveyed their smiling faces, he saw they were all wearing the uniform that he had been involved in selecting. It consisted of a loose fitting white silk blouse with puffy, see-through sleeves, a short tartan skirt made of a thin and filmy satin material, and sheer stockings.

Peter inhaled their perfume, observing their heavily made-up faces, pert breasts and those oh-so-sexy bottoms in their tight fitting skirts. They circled him, whispering, pointing and giggling as Peter's cheeks turned redder by the minute.

They'd never liked him. He was the one who'd initially suggested the SRC be set up. He was the one who said that the girls should wear a company uniform. He was the one who'd argued for the shortest skirt and the most girly looking blouse. He was the one who'd said that tights were ugly and insisted they wear stockings, which meant they also had to wear uncomfortable suspender belts. In particular, their pet hate was the skirt. It was so thin that even with a slip underneath, you could still see the outline of their suspenders and panties underneath. Then to add insult to injury, in his role as Finance Manager, he'd flatly refused to use their department and kept his own secretary instead.

But the girls were excited, for everything had changed. He was no longer a manager. He was a nobody now. A typist, the lowest of the low. And he would be working for them. Revenge would be so very sweet. They smirked as they looked over his effeminate clothes: the odd looking slacks that zipped at the side, the cream nylon blouse with the slightly rounded collar and full sleeves, and the brown slip-on shoes. One of them ran her finger up his back. She felt a ridge, like a vest underneath… but on the other hand it could have been… yes, yes it was…. the spaghetti straps gave it away.

"Hey girls, he's wearing a camisole" she blurted out excitedly.

"Ooooh, you naughty boy. What else are you wearing underneath?" one of them asked, running a hand over his bottom. Uncontrolled giggling broke out as they began pulling at his clothes and poking fun at him.

Eventually, Fiona told them to be quiet and listen. She began by announcing that Peter was to be the new trainee typist. That started off another cacophony of giggles and silly comments. A trainee typist was even more demeaning, how wonderful. She told them she was assigning one of the girls, Jenny, to look after him for the first week, then asked for any questions.

There was a moment of embarrassed silence, but it was only a moment. They hardly knew where to begin. Looking at each other and smiling, one of them couldn't resist asking the question on all their minds. "What about his uniform, Miss Harris?"

Peter grimaced at the mention of it again.

"We've got to wear it so I don't see why he should get away with it" another quipped as more giggling broke out.

"Yeah, he was the one who said we had to have a uniform in the first place. What's he's going to wear?"

"Is it the same as ours?"

"Ooh yes, a nice little skirt for the new girlie."

"And some cute panties to go underneath."

"Lots of pretty lingerie to flash at the boys."

"I can't wait to get him dressed up."

"I'll do his make-up."

"No, I'll do it."

"No you won't."

"Alright, alright! That's enough" Fiona shouted, trying to restore some order above their excited banter. "A trainee typist doesn't get to wear the standard uniform… at least not until they're more experienced."

There was a moment of silence and then. "That's not fair."

"No, why should he get away with…."

"Quiet…" Fiona yelled. "If you just let me finish I'll show you" and she opened a cupboard and brought out several hangers. There was a sharp intake of breath as they saw what she was going to make him wear. They ooh'd and aah'd and began to giggle excitedly again.

"We've modified the uniform a little so he'll be completely recognisable as part of the department, but I think you'll agree it's a little more…. youthful looking….a little more suited to a young trainee" Fiona explained.

"Oh yes how cute" they giggled and gathered round excitedly to examine everything in detail. The uniform certainly wasn't the same as their own. There were some obvious differences to what they were wearing. For a start, the blouse was more of a translucent chiffon material that would clearly show off a bra or anything else worn underneath. It was also decorated with delicate pink lace around the collar and the sleeves puffed right out before being gathered into an elasticated frill just above the wrist. The skirt was the same tartan as theirs but in a light, satiny material, and instead of a tailored tight fitting skirt, this one was pleated and very full.

Fiona continued. "The skirt is a younger style. It's got all these pencil pleats and with all this material, it'll look lovely with a frilly petticoat underneath" she said, pointing to the third hanger.

"Ooooh, a petticoat" one of the girls gasped out loud. "Pleated skirts look so cute when they're filled out with a frothy petti."

"Jesus, look at all those frills. He can't wear something like that round the office… just look at it!" another sniffed as she pulled at the multiple layers of lace.

"Oh but it's so pretty" another retorted.

"Yeah, it's almost a shame to have to hide it under a skirt" another teased.

Peter cringed in shock and horror at the frothy cloud of femininity. He thought he'd escaped from all of that, at least at the office. Fiona saw the look of anguish on his face and began a taunting and belittling commentary. "And our fashion conscious trainee won't be wearing just any ordinary petticoat. You'll see that the pink and blue colours in the skirt are picked out by the alternating pink and blue layers of the petticoat, with the hems edged in pretty lace. I think you'll agree ladies, that it'll make the skirt stand out really sweetly and that he'll make an entertaining sight for the men, flouncing along the corridors" she mused.

"Can't wait to see him floating up and down the stairs" another laughed.

The girls were chattering and giggling at her comments, when one of them asked the inevitable question. "What about um… LINGERIE" she asked mischievously, putting real emphasis on the girly word as she stared him in the face.

"Ooh yes, he's got to have some pretty lingerie underneath" another added.

"You can borrow some of mine, darling" one of them teased him. "I've got some really gorgeous panties, lots of girly lace and little bows. Ooh, you'd look so cute in them."

"Wait till we get you into your sweet little frillies" they taunted him.

"And I've got a divine little push-up bra for him."

"Alright quieten down" Fiona cut them off. "Thank you for your kind offers but everything's arranged" she replied. "There are matching sets of lacy bras and panties for him in white, pink, and blue" she said, showing them the different sets.

"Oooh, he's going to look a doll in those panties. What about stockings though?"

"Yes, he'll be wearing stockings and a proper suspender belt just like everyone else" Fiona replied.

"Bloody stockings!" one of them groaned. Most girls had long since dumped their old fashioned nylons for the convenience of pantyhose but much to their disgust, Fiona had agreed that they would wear them. She was prepared to use every trick in the book to persuade the department heads to get rid of their secretaries, and found that the occasional flash of stocking tops and lacy suspenders was a more powerful argument for her girls than any discussion about skills, costs or efficiency.

"Um, Miss Harris. What are we going to call him? We can't go on calling him Peter if he's wearing a girl's blouse and a little skirt, can we?"

"Yes, actually we can" she replied. "There's a note from Personnel this morning to all staff explaining the situation, and telling everyone that his name isn't changing. Wearing girl's clothes and becoming more feminine doesn't change the fact that he's still a guy underneath, even if he does look like a girl" she laughed.

Peter's face dropped. He studied the pattern on the carpet as he wondered whether it might have been simpler if they had just given him a girl's name. Calling him Peter was going to make him feel more uncomfortable than he already was, if that was possible. It was strange but out of everything that had happened that morning, losing his old job, his car, and his apartment, he oddly found the thought of having to wear the girls' uniform the most difficult thing to come to terms with. The only thing that could possibly be worse… was just about to be announced by Fiona.

She took great delight in telling the girls they could dress him in his uniform, that's if they wanted to. There was a whoop of delight, as if there was any doubt about it. The crowd of giggling young women were about to get their greatest wish. To strip him naked and put him into the outrageously feminine uniform Fiona had brought together. Amidst the animated chattering, excited hands grabbed him in a general melee as Fiona told them they could use her office.

Peter attempted to push them away but found himself frog-marched toward Fiona's small but private office. He nearly managed to break free but they quickly got hold of him again and bodily carried him like a sack of potatoes into her office.

"Get off me" he yelled as they put him down.

"Are you going to be a good girl little and let us dress you nicely… or are you just going to be a pain?"

He struggled to break free.

"He's going to be a pain!" they all shouted in delight.

As he continued to struggle, Jenny said. "Right, let's get him, girls."

He tried to fend them off, but there were too many of them and they were much too excited to be put off by a bit of resistance. Wrestled to the floor, he was quickly overpowered and the embarrassed ex Finance Manager was soon undressed down to his underwear by the giggling and excited girls. At last they stood over him, smirking.

"Jeez, look at him" one of them exclaimed. "Not only is he wearing a camisole, he's also wearing girl's knickers."

"He's not is he?"

"Bloody hell! He is. Look, they're nylon and there's some lace around the legs."

"And a little bow on the waist."

"Christ almighty. What a pansy" one of them laughed. "Come on sweetie, let's get those ordinary looking girl's knickers off. Mmm, I'm dying to see him in those pretty panties. Shall we start him off in pink?"

Peter fought as the girls tore his underwear off, giggling uncontrollably until they had him naked.

"My God, is that what all the fuss is about" one of them quipped as she pulled his hands away from his hairless crotch.

"Blink and you'd miss it" another laughed.

"You can struggle all you like sissy-boy, but the only way you're leaving this office is in a bra and panties and dressed like the rest of us" Jenny warned him.

"Well, not quite like us" one of them corrected her.

"No of course. A little bit more girly."

"No. A LOT more girly" another added, laughing.

The situation was turning into mayhem, the girls all talking at once and arguing about who was doing what.

"Look at this silky skirt, can't wait to get it on him."

"Wait a minute, I'm putting the petticoats on."

"No you're not, I've got the bra and panties. Get out of my way."

"Oh no you don't. The stockings go on first, I'm going to put them on."

"Get lost! You can't put them on till I get his suspender belt on."

"Girls… girls" Jenny yelled, taking charge at last. "Enough! Jeez, what are you like? Right, let me have those panties" she said sternly. Lying naked on the floor, he gazed up at the panties she was so lovingly stretching out, the panties she was going to pull up his legs. They were a rose pink silk satin which gave them a soft, slippery, and delightfully sensual feel, and a gleaming pearly sheen that caught the light beautifully. Slightly larger than bikini panties, there was a ruffled pink frill around the legs, a dainty overlay of white embroidered lace across the front, and a tiny ribbon bow at the waist.

"Jesus, look at them" one of the girls beamed. "Even when I was little, I don't remember wearing panties THAT frilly."

"You're going to look so sweet" Jenny teased, looking down on him. "I'm SO looking forward to putting you into your pink panties" and she knelt down and placed them round his waist, moving them back and forth across his tiny manhood. "Don't they look pretty on him, girls?" The silky, sensuous material slowly caressed his little penis until it responded as she knew it would, swelling rather embarrassingly.

"Look at that reaction, girls" she giggled, swiftly pulling them aside like a bullfighter with his cape. His penis was now standing out at right angles. "Look at that, he can't wait to get them on" she laughed.

He began to struggle again and they had to sit on his arms and legs, with another girl astride his chest, until he was still. Completely defenceless, Jenny was able to simply thread each foot inside the panties. He could feel the silky nylon around his feet but his view was obscured by the girl sitting on his chest. Her skirt was gaping wide, revealing stocking tops and white nylon panties that were just inches from his face. It was a sight that merely contributed to his embarrassing male reaction further down, especially when she slid forward and sat firmly on his lips, pressing his nose into her perfumed crotch. His rosy cheeks were held securely, framed between the milky white thighs that disappeared into the dark bands of her stocking tops.

Down below, Jenny quickly had the panties round his thighs and as the girls lifted his bottom up, she was able to pull them up to his waist, enclosing his boyish protrusion in the lace trimmed pink satin. "That's it. Mmmm, do you feel all nice and girlish in your frilly pink panties?" she laughed. Come on, don't pretend" she teased him, "your expression says one thing but that little boner tells a different story" she said, making them all laugh as she fixed the lacy suspender belt round his waist and clipped the stocking tops to it. Finally, she took a bottle of perfume and sprayed the panties with her favourite scent. "That's it, there's nothing like perfumed panties to get the guys interested" she laughed.

They got off him and stood him up, prodding and poking, delighting in teasing him about his diminutive and boyish little organ whilst they arranged the flaring petticoats around his waist. The feminine blouse was buttoned up and the filmy skirt gently floated down and came to rest on its supporting layers. The girls were thoroughly enjoying themselves as they slowly dressed him in HIS uniform. It wasn't exactly the first time he'd been dressed by a female of course. Tessa helped him every morning, but it was the first time he'd been humiliated in front of such a large group of girls.

Twenty minutes later, Jenny emerged from the office with the new trainee typist dutifully following behind, head bowed, and trying hard to suppress the embarrassing but unavoidable frou-frou motion of his pencil pleated full skirt and the tell-tale rustling of the frothy petticoats underneath. He looked so sweet; the sheer blouse with the pink lacy bra clearly visible underneath, and the shiny material of the skirt flaring out like an accordion over the foaming pink and blue layers beneath.

"Oh he's such a natural girl, don't you think, Jenny? So cute, simply adorable" Fiona smiled, surveying their handiwork, "and I do like this blouse" she giggled. It was a classic secretary's blouse, with padded Dynasty style shoulders, big puffy sleeves, and a high neckline tied with a huge bow that hung down the front. Peter squirmed as she ran her hands over the translucent material and traced the outline of the pretty lace on the cups of the padded bra.

He looked shamefaced at the floor, nervously tugging at the hem of the skirt. Finally he plucked up the courage to say something. "Look, I can't walk round the offices like this for God's sake. Please…. no-one wears dresses that… that stick out like this" he begged them.

"Rubbish. Full skirts and petticoats are in at the moment, aren't they Jenny?" she said, swishing the rustling skirt around his thighs."

"Yeah, I've got a petticoat just like that at home" Jenny agreed.

"Exactly. It's at home. You don't wear it to work, do you" he complained. "I'll be the laughing stock."

She couldn't resist a little laugh at his expense. "Oh, they'll soon get used to seeing you in your 'uniform'. Anyway, quit whining will you. You don't say much but what you do say is so boring" she scolded.

"I'll never be able to face anyone like this" he shook his head miserably.

"Well you should have thought about that before you got into this mess, shouldn't you? Putting on dresses and frilly lingerie… in front of the staff… what did you expect was going to happen, eh? Anyway, those dirty old men are going to lurve you" she joked, pinching his cheek. "Innocent, but sexy…. very nice" she purred, admiring the way they'd heavily made-up his face and his bright red nail polish. Even his toenails had been painted red and were showing through his nylons, peeking out from a pair of strappy, high-heeled sandals. "And such pretty hair" she added, noticing that his long blond hair had been brushed back and perfectly coiffed into a cute ponytail, tied with a blue satin ribbon. "Yes, very nice" she commented, and without warning, raised the hem of his skirt to quite unnecessarily fluff out the layers of petticoats, creating just a little more fullness.

"You don't think this skirt is too short do you?" she fussed. Peter's hopes were raised that she might decide it was all going a bit too far. The skirt finished a few inches above the knee and any movement whatsoever revealed the hem of the petticoats.

"Ooh no," Jenny replied. "If anything it could be a bit shorter really. When you're taking dictation, the guys always give you more time if they're getting an eyeful up your skirt, and I'm sure he'd appreciate anything we can do to make life a little easier for him while he's learning the ropes" she smiled.

"Yes you're right of course. Hmm, well in due course we could take it up a few inches, and I think the skirt could take another petticoat underneath."

"Do you think so?" Jenny pulled the skirt out at the front to test the effect. "You don't think it would be a bit much, do you? I mean, it won't look right if the pleats are all distorted."

"No, look there's plenty of material" she replied, stretching the hem of the skirt to demonstrate. "It'll be fine, see. I just think he'd look even more girlish with his skirt flaring out, showing off all those frothy layers underneath." She let go of the hem and placed her hands around his middle. "You see that neat little waist. Think how it'd look with a basque underneath to pull him in, and extra petticoats to push the skirt out some more. Hell, I can just picture him sitting down in front of one of our senior managers with all those petticoats billowing up" Fiona roared. "They won't know where to look."

"Oh I think they will", Jenny giggled. "Yes, I can see them giving him loads of filing to do. The old bottom drawer trick, you know. All that bending over so they can check out your panties" she laughed. "They must think we're bloody daft."

"Idiots! They can't resist the sight of a girl's panties," she said, swishing his skirts again. "Listen carefully Peter. Just flash your stocking tops and give the guys a glimpse of your panties and you'll have them eating out of your hands" Fiona teased him.

"Right, well you know what to do now, don't you Jenny? Take him round to meet all the departments and make absolutely sure you meet the Finance people."

"But they don't use us. They've got their own secretary. Remember, when he was Finance Manager, HE insisted on it."

"That's why I want you to meet them. I've been talking to the new Finance Manager about switching over to the Resource Centre and she seemed quite interested. Obviously, she won't be looking at our 'new girl' in the same way as the male managers, but make sure she knows how keen we are to help. I'd do almost anything to get them on side. Then when you've finished in Finance, leave him with Marketing. I've agreed with the Marketing Director that our new trainee can 'shadow' one of his people this afternoon to get a better idea of their role and what to expect. Then fetch him back down here again at 5pm sharp for his initiation." She turned to Peter. "We always have a nice little surprise to welcome our new girls on their first day, don't we Jenny?"

"Mmmm, a very nice surprise," Jenny giggled. She knew exactly what was in store for him. She'd make sure he wasn't late for that!

He was led off down the corridor, with a heightened awareness of everything he was wearing. The silky panties felt delicious against his freshly shaved genitals and the skirt was a nightmare with which he was fighting a losing battle. The wispy pleated weightless confection seemed to float around, constantly revealing his underskirts and frequently needing to be smoothed back into place. Underneath the skirt, the foamy lace trimmed petticoats swished back and forth in a girlish frou-frou motion, generating loud, feminine, rustling noises. Those billowing skirts practically filled the narrow corridor and each time someone approached, he was forced to stand aside, hold his skirts down and let them pass. Then there were the sandals. Unaccustomed to the height of the heels, it was as if he were walking around on tippie-toes. Every step resulted in a click-clack that seemed to echo about, with the added risk of tripping up and displaying even more of his fancy underwear. He tried hard to concentrate on what he was doing, placing his feet carefully one in front of the other, and it did seem to give him a little more confidence. Having mastered the heels though, he was becoming painfully aware of his nylon stockings and the way they tugged relentlessly at the elasticated straps of the lacy suspender belt above. The stockings were at least one size too small for him and he wondered just how much pulling they would take before one of the clips finally gave way and he found his stockings whispering down his legs and collecting in a little pool of nylon around his ankles.

At the end of the corridor, Jenny stopped and opened the door to one of the departments. They walked from one open plan office to another, with Peter having to endure the stares, the mocking comments, squeals of delight from the girls, and hoots of derision from the guys wherever they went. The only positive side to all the attention was that it took his mind off the worrying tugging of his stockings.

When they reached the door to the Finance department, he stopped. His breathing quickened. This was different. It was his old office of course, one he knew so well. Nervously dithering about outside, Jenny had to literally push him through the door. "Go on sweetie, in you go" she insisted, "don't be such a baby."

He walked as quickly as he could down the narrow aisle between the desks in his new mincing gait. The girls all gasped, then squealed with delight and put their hands to their mouths at the pitiful sight of their former boss, flouncing along in his full satin skirt and rustling petticoats, inadvertently sweeping papers off their desks in his perfumed wake. Reaching his old office, he saw that his nameplate had been removed… and replaced with Sylvia's. Jenny glanced at him, knocked on the door and walked in.

Peter was stunned. The office had been transformed. Gone were the pictures of scantily clad girls and nude calendars. They were replaced by pictures of hunky men in tight underwear, and a calendar of half naked body builders with bulges everywhere, including their pants! The plain painted walls had been expensively papered, new thick pile carpet cushioned his feet, and his old desk had been replaced with a hugely impressive mahogany one with an impressive new PC sitting on top. Behind it, Sylvia was sitting in a swanky high backed leather executive chair chatting to Jan, one of his former girlfriends.

"Oh look, it's the sweet little bridesmaid" Sylvia smiled, swivelling round impudently in her new chair as she pictured him at the church the other day. "So, how are you getting on in your new job?" she smiled but not giving him time to answer. "As you can see, I've re-arranged your old office a bit and thrown out that tatty old furniture. Do you like it?" she asked.

Peter was seething. He was so infuriated he didn't know where to begin.

What's a matter Peter, cat got your tongue?" Jan laughed. "By the way, I like your new uniform, darling. Cute isn't it, Sylvia? It's so sweet, the way the girls in the typing pool all dress the same. I bet once he heard he was joining them, he just couldn't wait to get into his new blouse and skirt. I expect you were desperate to try everything on this morning" she mocked, and without warning, flipped the hem of his skirt to reveal his cute panties and an unmistakably feminine fragrance. "Mmmm, still wearing perfumed panties?" she teased, and they all giggled.

Peter quickly pushed his skirt down again. "Jenny, could you step outside for a moment?" he asked with a red face. "I'd like a private word with these two, if you don't mind."

"Sure. Let me know when you're ready." She closed the door behind her, then positioned her ear up close, not wanting to miss out on any juicy gossip she could pass on to the other girls.

Peter was furious and he couldn't hold back any longer. It wasn't so long ago that they both worked for him, and if it hadn't been for him giving them a job in the first place, they wouldn't even be there. "Well, I hope you two are happy now!" he spat. "You've ruined my wedding… sent my girlfriend on honeymoon with another man… spread all kinds of lies about me being gay…. stepped into my job… taken my car…. disposed of my apartment… and made me the laughing stock of the entire company. CONGRATULATIONS!... you twisted little bitches… YOU, YOU…" he exploded.

Sylvia was furious. She stood up, menacingly. "Shut your face, you fucking sissyboy. You've had this coming. All that time we had to suffer your disgraceful behaviour: refusing promotions; written warnings when the girls were sick; redundancies; threats of the sack. And, you must have screwed at least half the girls in the office before dumping them. You should remember that it was US, always covering up for YOU. You and that bloody girlfriend of yours. Miss 'Debbie Big Tits'…. with her 'you scratch my back, and I'll sit on your dick' attitude with the men! And what's more, I must have spent months making all those girlie dresses for you. All of that lace I hand stitched onto mountains of petticoats, and then sewing rows and rows of frills on every single pair of panties. Ungrateful bastard. Have you any idea just how much work I've had to put in? And after all of that, that's the thanks we get, eh Jan."

"That's right" Jan said, stepping forward and giving him a stinging slap right across the face, so hard that the red imprint of her fingers immediately appeared on his cheek. The shock caused him to stagger back. "You bastard! I'd be a bit careful what I said if I were you" she said in an angry voice. "I hear it's quite tricky getting another job at the moment, particularly if you can't get a reference from your old employer. And remember, however difficult you think it might be working here, it'll get a bloody sight worse if we send your wedding video round the offices." His mouth fell open. She thought that would shut him up… and it did, completely!

"That's better. Now then, any more of that silly nonsense and I'll put you over my knee, take your knickers down, and give your bottom a bloody good spanking."

Peter's face dropped to the floor in a look of defeat and the mention of a spanking made him blush still further.

His ex-girlfriend continued. "Yes, you remember don't you? You used to get off on beating the hell out of my ass. God, my bottom used to sting like hell. Well, if you're not careful, we'll see how you like it instead…. only you won't be getting it in the privacy of my bedroom. We'll invite the whole department in to watch their ex-boss having his knickers taken down. I bet they'd enjoy watching that bottom bouncing up and down on my lap while I give it a good hiding" she threatened, with a smile on her face.

She was in full flight now. "And you've got a bloody nerve to talk about being the laughing stock. You didn't mind letting that cow Debbie make a laughing stock out of me did you? She treated me like shit, measuring my skirt every damned morning to make sure it was the right length… and the bitch even had the audacity to check what panties I was wearing. I don't remember you doing anything about that!"

He looked very sheepish now.

"And talking of short skirts, the one he's wearing is a disgrace isn't it Sylvia?" She picked up a ruler and measured it. "It's…. eighteen inches."

"Eighteen inches? We'll see about that" Sylvia tutted and picked up the phone. She needed to speak to Peter's new boss anyway.

"Hi is that Fiona?..... this is Sylvia, from Finance…. yes I've got him in front of me at the moment….. yes well I've been thinking about your proposition and I'd be prepared to let our Secretary go, and use your shared service instead…… yes….. but there's a few things we need to sort out first….. that's right….. well for one thing I'm not happy about having different girls up here for dictation, or doing our typing….. no….. I want consistency, someone who'll get to know us, and vice versa. Well yes Peter would do nicely if you can guarantee our department would be his top priority….. yes I realise he's just a trainee typist at present….. OK…. good…… then there's the issue of any mistakes….. that's right, we can't tolerate any mistakes in Finance…. no….. so we'd need to be able to deal with him as we would with our own secretary. Well, when Peter was manager here, he hired the secretary on condition that she understood the need for accuracy and the consequences of any mistakes. Of course, she never makes any, but if she did she'd be punished… well for him that would mean going over the knee….. that's right, a spanking…. bare bottom…. never fails does it… good I'm glad you agree….. oh and the final thing is a bit embarrassing. I mean he looks kind of cute in the little uniform you've given him but the girls up here tend to wear short skirts…. yes, well if he's to fit in….. yes that's right…… yes, it's a bit long….. yes I know…. oh you thought so too….. I see….. mmm…… well I suppose we were thinking about…. say, fourteen inches?" she raised her eyebrows at Jan.

Jan shook her head vigorously. "Twelve" she whispered in reply, as Peter scowled at her.

"Um sorry… make that twelve would you…. yes that would be much better….. yes… well I expect they will be on show a little if it's that short….. frilly ones…. yes ….. mmm they sound very sweet….. that's fine. Petticoats?….. no, no, he looks cute in petticoats doesn't he Jan….. mmm, the more the merrier…. he will won't he….. oh, how sweet" she giggled. "OK that's sorted then… Monday morning….. yes look forward to it…. bye."

Peter's ears were burning as Sylvia turned to him to explain the new arrangements. "From now on you'll be assigned to our department and will only work elsewhere in the building if we've nothing for you to do. Remember, I'll be watching you like a hawk, and I'll be asking Jan to check the length of your skirt and whatever you're wearing underneath, on a daily basis. Anyway, it sounds as if your uniform is about to become a little more… girlish" she giggled again. "And rest assured that if your work doesn't come up to scratch, you'll pay the price just the way you intended for that young girl out there. You were always looking for faults so you could put her over your lap, weren't you? Well, now we'll see how you like it. Every Friday afternoon, in front of the entire office, you'll receive six over the knee spanks for every mistake you've made, do you understand? And to be absolutely fair to everyone, the person for whom you've made the most mistakes, will be the one to administer it that week. OK?"

"Oh I can't wait for Henry's turn" Jan added. Peter shivered at hearing his name again. He'd been forced to watch him taking his bride on his wedding night, and he'd then taken his bride away on the honeymoon. "Mmm, he's so strong. He'll beat the shit out of you" she laughed. "Anyway, now you're working for us, there's another little point of etiquette we need to get straight.

"What's that….?" he mumbled, gruffly.

"Ahem," Jan smiled and lightly took the hem of her own skirt between her fingers as if to demonstrate.

With a scarlet face, his eyes narrowed. "No….." he almost pleaded.

"Sylvia, would you ring Personnel?"

He quaked at the mere mention of Personnel. "No…" he muttered as she reached for the phone. With eyes lowered and looking very shy and demure he reluctantly took the hem of his skirt and raised it a few inches to reveal the colourful petticoats underneath. He paused, causing Jan to warn him again, indicating with an upward movement of her hand what was required. He bit his lip and raised the hem of his skirt higher still. With a beetroot red face and his pretty petticoats fully revealed, he bent at the knees, bowed his head and finally dipped into the most girlish of curtsies.

"Oh, bless" Sylvia giggled.

"So sweet," Jan agreed. "In future you'll curtsey whenever you are called in to see our new Finance Manager. And remember, you no longer address her as Sylvia either.

"I think that's all now…. Taylor." Sylvia had to remind herself to call him by his last name. "Jenny" she called out, and the young girl re-entered the room. "I think he has said all he wants to, and we've finished with him for the moment. You can continue his introduction round the offices. Where are you off to next?"

"Um, Marketing."

"Really? That'll be nice. I bet they can't wait to meet the new girl" Jan laughed. Oh Peter, before you go. Haven't you forgotten something? Don't you want to thank Sylvia for all those pretty dresses she made you?"

He hesitated, glancing at Jenny. He didn't want to embarrass himself any further in front of his new colleague.

"Come on, you know what to do….." Jan insisted.

Grudgingly he turned to Sylvia, his former employee. She had a condescending smile on her face as she waited with baited breath for his response. It took him a moment to compose himself before he reached for the hem of his skirt once more.

Jenny looked at him, rather puzzled, wondering what on earth her new colleague was going to do. He seemed to be lifting the hem of his skirt, exposing several inches of petticoat. He then dragged once foot behind the other, bending at the knees. It was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing. She let out an involuntary snigger. "Oh my God!" she giggled. He was actually curtseying….curtseying to the girl that once worked for him. Peter completed the curtsey with bowed head, and then added with a shaky voice. "Thank you…. for the pretty dresses…. Miss Smith" and the astonished girl had to fight back her laughter.

"Good boy" Jan openly laughed. "Here, let me…" and she began to straighten out his skirt although she seemed to be doing more petticoat fluffing than anything else. "Off you go then" and she watched as he hurriedly made for the door to leave the office.

Outside, his path through the Finance office was now blocked by a group of giggling, amused girls who, like Jenny, had been listening at the door. He'd recruited them all and knew each of them by name. A few of them had even been present on his embarrassing wedding night. Those lucky enough to have witnessed his complete humiliation that night, recalled the vision of femininity, resplendent in his bride's beautiful wedding gown.

They gathered round him, smiling, chattering, desperate for a closer look at his pretty outfit. They couldn't resist touching the silky blouse and tugging at the hem of his filmy skirt.

"So how did they get a big boy like you, all dressed up like this, Peter?.... Do you like wearing pretty, girly things…. Hey, I like the way they've done his hair…. Mmm nice perfume too… Bet the guys will all be chasing you… Are you wearing panties under that skirt, Peter?... Must be, let's check."

"Get off me!" he panicked, pushing the skirt down.

"Eeeuw" they laughed at his flushed face and the eruption from his glossy, pouting red lips. They were crowded round him, effectively blocking his escape but he stood his ground and glared at them until a path finally opened up, allowing him just enough room to squeeze through. There was an embarrassing silence as his bouffant, petticoated skirt rustled prettily as it brushed against each of the smiling girls. Nothing was said as he minced his way through, until one of them couldn't resist it any longer and burst out with "you'd better practice those curtsies if you're going to be working up here" and his face went scarlet as he flew out of the department with the sound of girlish laughter echoing in his ears, and Jenny following behind and struggling to keep up.

  

  

  

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