OPENING DOORS - OPENING WINDOWS

My old granny used to say that you should never poke your nose where it doesn’t belong, never poke your nose into other people’s business and keep all your doors locked so that other people couldn’t do the same to you. It was good advice, because some people are incurably nosey and some can also be very unscrupulous .

This is the story (or stories) of someone who didn’t follow that sound advice and now probably wishes he had, though, on the other hand, we can never be sure of anything in this life, except, as the man said, death and taxes. The tale is told in two halves, for reasons you will see as it unfolds.

And my thanks go out to all the girls I met during my first few days in Crystal’s Chat Room, whose genuine warmth, camaraderie and general senses of humour inspired me to write this little offering. Mostly, I’ve used real Chat Room names, but there’s nothing libelous, despite my best efforts, girls <grin>.

Bless you all - and I hope you enjoy this ... it’s dedicated to you!

 

 

 

Part One

OPENING DOORS

by

Jennifer Jane Pope

 

Sally peered over Joy's shoulder and nodded, excitedly, pointing her finger at the menu panel that had appeared in the middle of the screen.

`It's a chat room,' she giggled. `Your brother must use it regularly. That's why it was listed in that favourites thing.'

`Says at the top of the page,' Joy murmured, `that this is Crystal's Story Site.' She looked doubtful, but Sally was convinced.

`Lots of sites have chat rooms in them,' she said. `All the writers listed on that other page, they probably use this place to talk to each other. Swap ideas, like.'

`Well, I know Tim likes writing,' Joy agreed. `He's keen on all that sci-fi and fantasy stuff, which is what this place seems to be about, so perhaps he's a member of some sort of forum here.'

`Surprised he gets time,' Sally smirked. She was seventeen, just and a whole six months older than her friend. `All those things wwe saw in the wardrobe, he must have a girlfriend living here with him full time. Bet your mum and dad don't know about that!' Tim and Joy's parents could be very straight laced and Joy knew nothing of a girlfriend. Tim wouldn't risk letting her in on a secret like that, just in case.

He was almost twenty, but he was still very much his mother's little boy, even though he'd been working for nearly three years and had moved into the flat when he was nineteen. Neither parent had been keen, but the old terraced family house was so overcrowded, especially now the triplets were nearly teenagers, so it had been the only practical solution and eventually they'd conceded this.

`Don't mention it in front of them, then,' Joy warned. `It'd cause one hell of a row.'

`Mum's the word,' Sally grinned. She returned her attention to the screen and clicked the mouse a few times, muttering as she did so.

`Hey, this is smart!' The muffled voice from the walk-in wardrobe caught both girls' attention and they turned, as Debbie's copper coloured head emerged from the interior. She extended an arm, displaying a clothes hanger, from which was draped a shining black, pvc minidress, with little buckles, a split skirt with lacing in the split, and a high collar, ringed with dozens of tiny metal studs.

`Smart,' Sally nodded, `but dead tarty. Bloody Nora, fancy your Tim having a girlfriend who wears stuff like that. Doesn't look like he'd have it in him. Thought he was just a computer nerd.'

`There's a lot more real sexy stuff in here, too,' Debra said, stepping back out of site behind the open closet door. `Wow! Wait'll you see this.'

`Don't!' Joy cried out, getting to her feet. `We shouldn't go through stuff in here. It's private.'

`Your idea to use his computer,' Sally reminded her. `And it was you who borrowed your mum's spare key.' The spare key had been tucked away in a vase back at home, kept there in case of emergencies.

`Well, he owes me ten quid,' Joy said, `and he should have paid me back last week, so this is sort of interest. Going through private cupboards and stuff is different.' She'd reached the closet door and was about to pull Debbie out, when her gaze fell upon the boots. They were long, red and made of leather.

`Blimey!' she whispered, stooping to pick them up. `These must have cost a fortune. This girl of his must have a few quid to throw around.'

`Or else that's why Tim is always broke,' Sally chirped in, from the console. `He's soft enough to buy anything for anyone who gives him the time of day. Don't think he's too good around girls.'

`I wouldn't mind betting he's pretty good around this girl, whoever she is,' Debbie sniggered. `Any male with blood in his veins would have to be. Wow! Some of this stuff is really kinky. Give me those red boots, Joy. I wanna try 'em. He'll not know.'

`What if anyone comes in?' Joy said, suddenly looking guilty. Sally laughed.

`Like who?' she said. `Tim's away in France for three days and we've got the only other key, right. Let the daft cow try them on.'

Joy hesitated. `Oh, go on then,' she agreed. `But don't do anything to mark them. They look expensive.'

`Oh boy!' Debbie cried. `There's a corset thing in here to match. Oh what? It's made of leather, too.' The sound of her appreciative sniffing filtered out from the depths.

`Hey, look,' Sally exclaimed, suddenly. `We're in!' The screen on the VDU changed and Joy crouched over, trying to make out the various print and symbols.

`That's the name of the people who are in here at the moment,' Sally said. She pointed to a black panel set slightly to the right. `At least, I think it is,' she added. `I've sat with my sister when she chats to all those dungeons and dragons lot.'

`Here, let's try.' She typed her name in the narrow box at the bottom, clicked on to enter and a moment later her name appeared on the screen, just beneath a line of meaningless technical stuff. Almost immediately, the name Prue appeared. `Bugger,' Sally hissed. `I didn't need to type my name. I already logged on with it, see?'

Joy squinted at the screen and saw:

Mary> Mary

[Prue] Hi Mary

[Squaw] Had um liddle lamb

[virg.] Squaw! Behave!

[Squaw] Diddle!

The three lines appeared at intervals of a few seconds, as the two girls looked on in delighted amusement.

`They're talking,' Joy gasped. `To us!' Sally grinned and began typing again.

 

Mary> Hi, I'm Mary and I'm new at this

`Why you calling yourself Mary?' Joy whispered. Her friend's grin widened.

`Because you never use your real name in these things. Thought everyone knew that.'

`Oh!'

[virg.] Hi Mary. Where you from?

[Rowena] Hi Mary

[Nighteyes] G'day, Mary

[Squaw] How Mary?

Mary> Fine thanks. I'm in England

`Wow! This is neat,' Joy breathed. `Ask them where they all are.' As if reading her mind, the next message popped up on the screen.

[virg.] Another Brit sister. I'm in US. Squaw is UK, same as you.

[Rose_2] Hi, Mary. Welcome in. First time here then?

Mary> Yes. Using my big brother's computer. I'm looking after his flat for a few days.

[Squaw] Him know you use it?

Mary> No. But he's been a pig and owes me.

[virg.] oh-oh!

Mary> He won't mind. I won't tell him, anyway.

[Nighteyes] You sure? He might not like you coming to this site.

[Prue] How old are you Mary?

[Squaw] How you get to this site, Mary?

Mary> I'm 18

Mary> He had it on his Favourites thing

[virg.] Double uh-oh!

[Squaw] Me bet um did!

[Prue] Mommasquaw. Maybe problem.

[Squaw] TFR Prue

[Prue] TFR?

[Squaw] Too F Right lol.

[virg.] Mary, you read any of the stories in this site yet?

Mary> Not yet. Are they all sci-fi or fantasy?

[Nighteyes] Some magic, lol

[Prue] More what you'd call fantasy.

[Prue] Mostly for sort of enthusiast people

[Squaw] Specialised. Not very interesting.

[virg] That exactly moccasin in mouth thing to say.

[Rowena] Dumb squaw!

[Squaw] Bugger!

Mary> Might read a couple in a minute. Are they free?

`These boots are a bit too big,' Debbie complained, from her perch on the edge of the bed. `Your brother's girlfriend must have big feet. I take a seven myself and they're two sizes bigger, at least.'

[Prue] Yes, but aren't you running up your brother's phone bill?

Mary> Serves him right. He owes me, like I said.

[Prue] (sighs) Close ...

[Squaw] But not um close enough, Kiwi bird.

[Rowena] nice try.

[virg.] I think I might be able to give you the site of some good music downloads

[virg.] If you like

[Squaw] Um better, but don't hold um breath

[Prue] lol

Mary> No, that's okay. But thanks. I'd rather stay and talk with you, if I may.

[Squaw] Um non-dumb idea. Yep, you stay here talk to us.

[virg.] Per-link! Yes, we'd love to talk to you, Mary

[Prue] I'll see who else I can find to join us

[Squaw] Prue, use um magic ICQ and see if anyone else willing help!

[Squaw] Bugger. You um already think of that.

[Prue] lol. Yes.

[Squaw] You smart Kb, not dumb like squaw.

[Nighteyes] You been watching the Olympics, Mary?

[Squaw] Great Spirit of Um Poor Sisters, hear um prayer

Mary> No

[virg.] Seem spirit gone deaf.

[Squaw] Gottim bright idea. Um hurt, but

[Squaw] Worthum try. Mary, which part of UK you in?

Mary> Surrey.

[Squaw] Squaw in UK, too. Hampshire. Next door.

Mary> Where abouts.

[Squaw] Near um sea. Mary?

Mary> Yes?

[Squaw] Me give um Squaw phone number, you wanna go logoff an' have chat with Granny Squaw?

[virg.] hope Spirit washing ears out, Squ!

[Prue] Risky, mommasquaw

 

`You're not phoning Hampshire from this phone,' Joy said, firmly. `Too expensive. This Internet thing only costs local rates. Hampshire counts long distance.'

 

Mary> No thanks. Happy here.

[Squaw] Sure?

Mary> Yes.

[virg.] (saying it for you) diddle

Mary> Pardon. Don't understand.

 

 

Author's note: At this point the reader should be aware that not all the chatting between the older chatters was appearing on "Mary's" screen. Various PRIVATES were also flying about, including such lines as:

 

Could be anyone's liddle sister. Gotta try head her off.

Agreed. But how?

That my saying. Dunno. Think quick.

I'll ask virg

OK!

Unless this is someone just getting us at it?

Could be, but I gotta awful feelin'

Okay, Prue. But don't let Squaw frighten her off.

Squaw won't. She's worried. This is someone's kid sister.

'Course. Squaw's got lodge full of papooses. Forgot.

Prue, that ace idea. ICQ whoever and let's see if we can just keep her talking.

Maybe she'll get tired, Squaw. What time is it in UK?

1500

Not much chance of that then?

Not much. But we have to try.

yeah, somone in for bad surprise, else

Heap bad medicine.

 

And, over the next few minutes...

`Look!' Joy cried, excitedly. `That's someone else coming in, isn't it?'

`Yeah, and another,' Sally said. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her typing classes reaping dividends now. `Cripes! Another two!'

 

And, on the private exchanges, things continued at a frenzied pace. PRIVING was not a regular occurrence in the Chat Room, but this was looking like an emergency - for someone!

Ask her anything, except the obvious. Try to warn anyone who comes in uninvited - from the ICQ.

What if some bastard has a nasty sense of humour.

Don't worry. Prue and Neri are filling this room up at one hell of a rate.

Maybe we can fill it and keep the door shut.

Put boot against door and keep it there.

As long as we can keep her talking.

Squaw reckons she can talk for England

Why she not in the Olympics then.?

Not now. How's the numbers? Twenty.

Gettin close.

Hey, had a brainwave.

What. Try to raise Crystal and see if she can crash the site for an hour.

That's brilliant.

Yeah, not as dumb as um think. You try her. I don't know how.

Okay.

`This corset is really something,' Debbie said. `I'm going to take my skirt and top off, do it properly.' In front of the screen, her friends barely paid her heed.

`They seem nice,' Joy observed. `Not what I'd expected. You hear all sorts of stories. Still, most of them seem to be girls and they all seem to know each other.'

`Hmmmm!' Sally muttered. `Something's wrong.'

`Wrong?' Joy looked alarmed. `With the computer?'

`No.' Sally's reply was almost scathing. She looked up from the screen, but only for a brief moment. `Something fishy going on, that's what I meant. All these people and they keep trying to find new things to ask.'

`That's probably because you're new and they're just interested.'

`You're too trusting, Joy. That Squaw woman seemed keen I should phone her just now.'

`Just being nice,' Joy said, `I expect. Didn't she say she had a daughter your age?'

`Yeah, but we don't know if that's true or not. She could be anyone.'

`I suppose.'

 

And meantime, the PRIVATE messages were still arrowing back and forth through the electronic ether.

Seems to be working.

Yeah. Have you contacted Crystal yet?

No, not yet. She was up all last night sorting out extra chat rooms. Probably crashed out by now.

Shame the same can't be said about the site!

Think she'll stay on here. Maybe we could keep her chatting til the brother comes back.

Did she say how long before she was expecting him?

Nope.

Could be days then?

Yep.

Bugger.

 

 

And, on the open screen ...

 

Mary> No, I already said, I don't like Britney.

[sue32] Robbie Williams?

Mary> No

[sue32] What sort of music do you like?

Mary> Heavy metal, some.

[sue] How about Queen?

Mary> Yes, and david Bowie, but his older stuff.

[sue] Not before your time then (grins)

Mary> No, got albums. On CD now, all his stuff

 

 

Back on PRIVATE ...

Right, what do we try to get her talking about next?

How about cats?

CATS?

Yeah, all girls like cats. Everyone loves cats.

You do, I know.

'Cept when they kitty fart.

Okay. try her on cats then. You take over. Mary's starting to struggle.

Sigh. The things we do for an unknown sister.

Like to think someone would do the same for me, if it were necessary.

Would it likely be?

No fear. I got more passwords than the CIA in this thing.

 

`I'm getting fed up with this now,' Sally said, sitting back in the seat and wriggling her fingers. `Want to take over for a bit? It is your brother's computer, after all.'

`What do I do?' Joy asked. Sally grinned and stood up.

`Same as I've been doing. Just type and then click down there, on Send.'

`What about the name? Do I have to change it?'

`No.' Sally shook her head, her fair hair swinging from side to side. `No need. There's no way they can tell it's you, not me.'

 

 

PRIVATEly ...

There's more than one of the little sproglets there!

How you know Squaw?

Look. Typos everywhere. The other one typed really neat.

Oh yes. And she could spell, too.

Reckon we need a spell now.

The brother does, you mean?

Yeah!

Any idea who we might be talking about here? Whoever the brother is, he or she is in your part of the world.

No one I know, but then I don't get out much.

Yeah, stay in teepee diddlin', you mean?

An' writing. Trouble is, if there's two of them, there could be more. OK keeping one occupied, but the other or others will get bored and they'll start browsing through the stories and the rest of the site.

Not exactly conclusive proof, though, is it. Re the brother/sister, I mean.

No, but would you like your liddle sis even thinkin' ...

No, not if I had one. Tres embarrassent.

You can say that again.

I can't. It was hard enough the first time.

 

`Debs, that looks really wicked!' Sally walked around Debbie, who slowly pirouetted in the opposite direction, arrogantly displaying her tall and nicely matured figure in the thigh boots, tight basque and shoulder length gloves. `And it all fits pretty well, though that corset looks tight.'

`I think that's the idea, Sal,' Debbie laughed. She was taller than her fiend anyway, but the extra five inches of heel made her tower above her now. `And the gloves have all these little laces up the outside, see? Took ages to tighten 'em. What you two been up to on that machine, whilst I've been struggling here?'

`Just chattin - hey, the gloves are leather, too, aren't they?'

`Not real leather, but pretty cool. I'm gonna put this collar on now?'

`What for? You want I take you walkies?' Both girls started giggling.

`Dressed like this?' Debbie smirked. `I don't think so. Anyway, the way I heard it, I'm the one supposed to be doin the walkin'. Someone else gets to play doggie.'

`Someone else.' Sally frowned, but only for a second. `Oh, you mean a man?'

`Or woman.' Debbie's eyes sparkled. `Wanna try?'

`Woah! No way, not me. Joy might be willing, though.' Their voices had dropped to a mere whisper now, but the subject of their discussion was too busily engrossed at her brother's computer to have paid them any notice regardless.

`Sweet little slave girl? That magazine we found, I remember it now.'

`Me too. Got a couple more at home. Found 'em in my cousin Gavin's room,' Debbie confided. `Men are so -'

`Useful sometimes, though?' Sally snickered.

`Wish these boots fit my feet better, though,' Debbie moaned. `They're far too long in the foot and with these heels, my toes keep trying to slip down and it leaves the heel feeling all loose.'

`Must be a big girl this girlfriend of Tim's,' Sally pondered. `You got the biggest pair of feet of any girl I ever met and you're pretty tall. Any girl with feet this size would be quite a sight, probably about as tall as -'

She broke off abruptly, stepped back and ran her eyes up and down Debbie. Debbie's eyes narrowed and her eyeballs flickered, and then the realisation struck them both at the same moment..

`No!'

`Why not?'

`Not Tim, surely?'

`They'd fit him, though, wouldn't they?'

`Yes, but -' Debbie giggled. `Mind you, he's got quite a sweet face.'

`Bit like Joy here.'

`Brother and sister.'

`Yes.'

`So what do we do now?' Debbie asked, her teeth baring in a wicked smile. Sally mirrored her friend's expression.

`I'm gonna go look at the rest of the stuff in this site. Starting with the stories section.'

`Especially the stories section!'

`Gonna take that stuff off whilst I start?'

`What? Just starting to get used to it! Makin' me feel all -'

`Yeah, I can guess.'

 

And then, a few seconds later, still PRIVATELY - though privacy was about to become a thing of the past for the one character in this story we have yet to meet face to face ...

She's gone. Logged off.

(Hopefully) Maybe booted out?

How come I don't believe that?

Wait a couple of minutes, see if she just went revolving. She may show up again.

Somehow um glum dumb Squaw think um not.

Well, we tried.

[Prue] Good effort, girls. Not your fault.

[Neri] Thanks everyone for trying.

[Rose_2] No one got any idea still who the brother was?

[virg.] The silence is deafening.

[Squaw] Got um nasty suspicion we soon gonna find out.

 

 

 

 

And, my dears, a few days later the following story offering was posted in a well known story site:

 

Part Two

OPENING WINDOWS

by

"SALLY'S SISTER"

 

Yesterday, I went out in public dressed as a girl, for the first time. It wasn't my choice, but then, as my new "sister" pointed out to me, I don't really have much of a free choice anymore.

About anything, she assures me.

Of course, as Sally has enjoyed pointing out to me, it could be a lot worse, for at least I get to live out at least a part of my fantasy, even if I always imagined that I would play the "mistress" role, rather than the one I am now forced to act. My one regret concerns Joy, for Deborah, as she insists on being called now, is quickly subjugating her as effectively as Sally is doing the same to me.

In a way, I suppose, I shouldn't waste much sympathy on Joy, because, if she hadn't stolen - yes, stolen - that key and taken her little coven round to my flat, then none of this would be happening to either of us. Of course, little sister is just a bit slow where some things are concerned - I'd worked out that Deborah was a lesbian several months ago. Unfortunately for Joy, she hadn't and neither, even more unfortunately, had she realised that Deborah fancied her something rotten. Both misconceptions have now, of course, been rectified.

The three of them were waiting for me when I finally returned to the flat. I was feeling pretty bushed after coming back from France on the night boat and the bag of assorted duty free goodies was heavy to lug from the Ferryport to where I live, which is over a mile, but it was either that or pay over the top to the predatory taxi drivers who lurk on the ranks for returning travellers.

`What?' I exclaimed. It was still only around six thirty and the trio of shadowy figures was sitting in what little light penetrated through the net curtains of my small lounge window at that hour. Sally had realised that if I saw an unexpected light as I walked up the avenue, I might well become suspicious and telephone the police.

Which wouldn't have fitted in with the scheme of things at all, of course.

Before I could really get started on them for trespassing on my private little domain, I was virtually hustled into the bedroom, shown the computer, the tell tale Favourites box and some sample downloads and, of course, half the contents of my wardrobe, now spread across the big old double bed. Only when they turned on the light and debbie removed the long coat she had been wearing, did I realise that some of my carefully collected treasures were already being put to use.

`How dare -?' I began to splutter, but Debbie raised one imperious gloved finger and I fell silent.

`We dare, because we can,' she said, smugly. `And because you can't.'

`Or rather, you won't,' Sally added, moving up to stand alongside her. I peered past them both to where Joy was standing, just inside the doorway and for the first time noticed what she was wearing. The tiny little skirt was pleated, flared, pure white and almost see through, which last fact scarcely mattered, as it barely touched the tops of the white stockings she was wearing and clearly showing what there was to see of the white panties, with their elaborately frilled additions..

The little crop top was equally revealing, leaving her navel exposed and her nipples clearly visible through the gauzy fabric and, with a start, I realised that her nipples had been rouged to make them even more conspicuous. About her throat she wore a narrow leather dog collar, also in white, with glittering little red studs. The lead attached to this was looped about Debbie's right wrist.

Joy's wrists appeared to be cuffed together in front of her, the metal bands sitting snugly over the lacy white elbow gloves that now adorned hands and lower arms. Vaguely, I realised that she, too, had been wearing something draped about her shoulders when I first walked in to the poorly lit lounge. Now, in the better light here, I could also see that her face had been elaborately and heavily made up and that the expression on her face showed that she was enjoying this no more than I was.

`What are you doing with my sister?' I demanded, hoarsely. Debbie grimaced, evilly.

`Nothing she won't learn to enjoy - eventually,' she grated. `Of course, she doesn't look too happy about it at the moment, even though she does look totally sweet and gorgeous, but that's because she knows that if she doesn't do what we say, we'll expose her dear brother for the pervert he really is.'

`Yes,' Sally continued. `We've got plenty of ammunition, too. Since we first found out, we've had two full days to dig deeper. Found some magazines, some very interesting picture files of a very interesting would be dominatrix - you certainly put that little digital camera through it's paces, I must say - and some not bad stories, all apparently written by you.'

`And the same deal goes for you as goes for Joy,' Debbie took over again. `Do as we say, or else we start telling. We've got the hang of your computer now, too, enough to mail a few of your pictures to some of your business clients and we've now passworded access to the entire machine.'

How I wished I'd done that myself, but I never expected ...

`Your bank account details are all in your desk drawer, too,' Sally said. `Joy was amazed when we saw just how much you really earn. Bet your mum and dad have no idea!'

`What I earn is my business,' I snapped. Both taller girls laughed.

`Not any more, sister,' Sally snapped. `That li'l wedge you got stashed away is needed. Got some serious girlie shopping to do. We spent what little we could scrape together in getting Joy rigged out, but I think it was worth it, don't you?' I stared down at the awesome white stilettoes in which Joy appeared to be perched almost on tiptoe.

`But I can't have my favourite slave confined to just the one outfit,' Debbie added. `That wouldn't do at all, would it?' She grinned again, white teeth baring between deep red lips. `So, first you and Sally are going to go and make a withdrawal and then, whilst she attends to your appearance, I'm going to modify mine a bit and then take my little sweetheart into town.'

Apart from ransacking my flat, the bitches had been busy in other directions these past few days, it seemed, using the net to get themselves a crash course in their newly adopted roles. Four thousand pounds came out of my bank account - the cashier raised an eyebrow at that amount of cash - and three remained for on-line purchasing as required.

I groaned, inwardly. I'd been saving for ages to get that little nest egg, for my regular indulgences on my wardrobe made a hefty first dent in every month's earnings deposits.

`Now,' Sally instructed, when we got back to the flat. It was a little after ten by now, for we'd stopped off to buy a few things at the chemist's on the way back. `Now,' she repeated, `I want you in that bathroom and make use of this.' She handed me a packet. `Read the instructions and then soak in the bath. There's bath oils to put in the water and you can wash your hair thoroughly.

`I must say, I do like your two wigs.' Apparently they'd found them last, for they were on stands, in the boxes in which they'd been delivered, in the cupboard underneath the stairs that led to the flat upstairs, accessible via its own front door, which stood side by side with my own, but with stud partitioning to ensure that each flat remained totally self contained.

Which was as well, for what these minxes had planned for me required more than a degree of privacy, at least during the early stages of what Sally referred to as my "redevelopment plan".

The packet contained a tube and the tube contained a depilatory cream, a top of the range brand and very expensive. I knew that, because I’d handed over the money to pay for it and the other items Sally had selected. It worked quickly and effectively, helped, no doubt, by the fact that what body hair I had was fine and pretty fair, but after washing the cream off with tepid water, per the instructions and then soaking myself in a not-to-hot bath, my body still felt strangely cool, the skin taut and smooth.

I used scissors to trim the one triangle of hair I was to be allowed to keep, minding Sally’s instructions to make sure that it was `short and neat’ and then, wrapping a towel about me to cover my nakedness, I walked back through into the bedroom. Sally was there, waiting for me, sitting in the little corner easy chair and thumbing through a magazine with evident interest. As she put it down, I caught a glimpse of the cover and my stomach performed a minor gymnastic exercise.

`Where’s Joy?’ I asked, concerned as much for my younger sister as I was for myself, for the sight of her earlier, dressed so revealingly and so helpless in that bitch, Debbie’s power, had left me quivering with helpless anger.

`Debbie has taken her shopping,’ Sally replied, curtly, `but that’s no concern of yours right now. Here!’ She bent over the small footstool and picked something up from it. `Put these on and tuck your bits underneath, between your legs. I expect you’ve done that before, haven’t you?’

I didn’t reply, but took the flesh coloured panties from her and turned my back, my cheeks burning red, for she was right, I had tried this technique before. But not with a garment like this one, I realised, as soon as I started pulling the powerfully elasticated material up over my thighs. This was a no-messing little devil, and no mistaking. I stifled a groan as the rubbery grip closed over my manhood, crushing it up and all but out of sight.

`Turn around,’ she said. `Let me see.’ Even I had to admit that the effect was impressive, for all that now remained between the top of my thighs was a neat mound. I would have said that I looked like a girl down there, except that it was a totally sexless finish. Presumably, Sally was thinking the same.

`I found something on the Internet,’ she said, `so we can use your credit card.’

`Oh?’ I replied. I had an idea what she was talking about and I was right.

`Yes,’ she giggled, `it’ll make you look as though you’ve got a proper little minny there and the blurb says you can even pee through it. You’ll have to sit down to do that, of course, but then my new sister will be expected to do that anyway, won’t she?’ My face colour was deepening all the time.

`Oh yes,’ she added, almost as if it were an afterthought, `and the same company sells stick on boobies, so you won’t need those padding thingies I found in your closet.’ She stepped closer and ran her fingers down my naked, hairless chest.

`I think you’ll look really sweet with a pair of nice firm boobs here,’ she whispered. She was too close to me, her perfume filling my senses, her warmth unmistakable and I thanked the gods for the restraing influence of the panties. The pain when I tried to respond was enough to dampen any ardourous ideas from that direction.

I soon had plenty of other things to occupy my mind, anyway.

We had bought the corset from the new lingerie specialist shop at the far end of the shopping precinct, together with a few other items that Sally decided would be suitable for her new "toy", as I was now convinced she regarded me. Unlike my own leather version, this was cut higher in the back, leaving both buttocks completely unrestricted, but though it also looked considerably less formidable than mine, its appearance was deceptive. The hidden boning was intended for durability and the laces stronger than they looked at first glance. Very soon, I was able to testify to both those statements.

`You’re going to cut me in half!’ I panted, as Sally began another round of tightening. I couldn’t believe that there was even another millimetre the garment could reduce, but I was wrong.

`There!’ she declared, finally, when I was sure I’d finally past the point of asphyxiation. `That’ll do - for now. But I read that constant wearing of a corset can reduce the waist by a good few inches, given enough time.’

`You can’t be serious?’ I gasped, fighting to educate my lungs into a different method of breathing. I half turned, catching a glimpse of myself in the smaller mirror on the dressing table and my eyes popped at what I saw. Sally, however, was in no mood to indulge any narcissism, at least, not until she was finished and ready. She slipped the small foam breast filler into place and told me to sit on the edge of the bed.

Opening one of the new packets of stockings, she handed them to me, a smug grin on her face.

`I’m sure you know how to put these on without laddering them,’ she smirked. `And make sure you get the straps nice and straight.’ They were white, with lacy tops and long enough to stretch right to the tops of my legs, but even so, the suspender, or garter straps, were stretched tautly to them. I accepted the lacy white panties and drew them on, lifting myself to wriggle the gauzy things up over my hips.

`Sweet,’ Sally grinned. `Very virginal. Now, put these on and stand up.’ She took the high heeled white sandals from their box and passed them to me. I had been surprised when we found a pair large enough in one of the high street shoes stores, as my other footwear had had to be specially ordered by mail. These were perhaps half a size too small to be called a perfect fit, but, being sandals, with strappy sides and insteps, it was not critical. I fastened the ankle straps and rose to my feet.

`Show me how you walk in your nice new heels, then,’ Sally giggled. Of course, it was hardly my first time, but I wasn’t sure whether I should try to look more awkward in them than I felt. Sally was quick to spot my slight pretext, but went further and instructed me how I should really walk and move my hips.

`You,’ she said, patting my hand, `are going to make a great girl. Now, let’s see to your face.’

She was clearly very adept with make-up and the entire process was completed in less than half the time I was expecting. I had never gone as far as wearing make-up during my own little fantasies and I felt myself trembling slightly, as she worked deftly, seating me so that I could not see the results of her efforts in the mirror.

The two wigs were very different from each other. One was straight and black, the hair falling around the tops of my shoulders, the other, ordered in a moment of frivolity induced by half a bottle of bacardi, was longer, curly and very blonde and it was this that Sally now selected. Very carefully, she placed it over my head, stretched the base into position and teased out a few of the curls with a hairbrush.

`Now these,’ she said, picking up a pair of clip-on pendant earrings. `I think we should get your ears pierced as soon as possible, but these will do for now.’ She snapped each clip over a lobe and then stepped back. `Stand up again,’ she instructed. `Let’s see what you look like.’

I was still not allowed to see myself, not until Sally had finished dressing me. She chose the new white, pleated mini skirt, the hem of which stopped a good five inches short of my knees, together with a long sleeved, figure hugging top with scooped neck, the cuffs slightly frilled, as I knew was part of the latest fashion look for younger women.

`Do you know what?’ she said, when I had adjusted the skirt belt about my now dramatically slimmer waist. `You look so like Joy, you could almost be twins. Apart from the fact you’re a good bit taller, of course,’ she added.

`Wait till Debbie sees you - she’ll be almost jealous.’

`I didn’t think Debbie liked men,’ I said, bitterly. Sally chuckled.

`I’m not sure she might not make an exception in your case,’ she sniggered. `Come over to the long mirror and you’ll see why.’

I stood for what seemed an eternity, gazing open-mouthed at my new reflection and I could see what Sally meant about the resemblance between Joy and myself. Of course, we were brother and sister and there are always family traits in any sibling comparison, but now that Sally had removed all traces of my masculinity, the close genetic relationship was really obvious.

`Right, Tara,’ Sally said, coming up to stand close to me. She slipped an arm around my waist and regarded our twin images. `That’s your new name, by the way. You’ll be Tara from now on, whenever you are dressed as a girl, which is going to be as often as possible, if I have anything to do with it. Which I intend to,’ she added, grinning.

She broke away, leaving me still standing there, still slightly open mouthed at the transformation she had achieved. All traces of Tim seemed to have evaporated. No one, not even what passed as my friends, would ever have recognised me, of that I was sure.

`I think, Tara,’ Sally said softly, perching herself on the end of the bed and watching me intently, `that you quite like what you see, don’t you? Not the kinky pretend woman you liked to play at being, I’ll grant you, but very sweet looking.’

`I’m totally... astonished?’ I whispered. `I often wondered, I suppose, but this -’

`Well, come and thank me, sweet Tara,’ she smiled. I turned and took a hesitant step towards her, wondering what she expected of me. I soon found out.

`Girls don’t need cocks, Tara,’ she leered, sliding her panties down her ankles. `There are other ways of satisfying each other. Not that I’m really like Debbie, which is what makes you so perfect. If you’re a good girl, you’ll find out that we can always bend a few rules.

`Now, come here and kneel down and let’s see if you can do this better than Debbie tells me Joy can.’

 

My access to the Internet is now strictly controlled by my new, teenage mistress and I am not allowed back into the chat room where they first discovered my little secret passion. Instead, I am a regular in another chat room and Sally sits and enjoys it as I talk to men, describing to them, in minute detail, what I am wearing and telling them what I would show them if they were here with me, instead of hundreds, or thousands, of miles away.

Sometimes Debbie joins us, Joy as ever on a leash when she is in my flat and the two young women share their amusement at our joint humiliation - me the cocquette, teasing and taunting, sitting at this keyboard with skirts that ride up over my stockinged thighs, my long legs stretching down to feet that are almost permanently encased in shoes with steepling heels.

Joy, dressed even more skimpily usually, kneels and keeps her head bowed. She may only raise it with Debbie’s permission and then normally only for her lesbian mistress’s pleasure.

However, although she never smiles now, something tells me that Joy is not really any less truly content than I am with this unexpected change in our life styles. There are, as my own mistress has told me, always windows of opportunity in our lives, many of which we never even realise are there. She has just, she says, shown me one and opened it and intends to open more as time passes.

Ah yes, time.

I think there will be plenty of time for me to discover those windows, for she has made it very clear that she and I will be married in another year or so, when the results of her projected new enterprise have borne fruit enough to offer us an even more secure future than my freelance earnings alone. Apart from having enough money for a comfortable existence, you see, Sally has her heart set on a white wedding, possibly in the Caribbean.

The only thing she has not yet decided upon is the size of the bride’s gown. She is a size ten, whereas I am a twelve, a full size bigger.

 

* * * * *

 

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