Crystal's StorySite

Dungeons Are Always Dark!              by: Anne O’Nonymous


Mitch arrived at the coffee shop a little after ten o’clock, entered and looked around. He could see several customers having snacks or mid-morning coffee. In a booth, he spotted her. Events of the past weekend came back to him! Events that would soon be a distant, very bad, memory.

He wanted to forget, oh how he wanted! How she and her friends treated him. How they dressed him as a little girl, made him prance and lisp, and carry a doll! That night when they put him in diapers and handcuffed him to the bed! The morning when they took those polaroids of him servicing one of their boyfriends! The beauty salon, where he was shown off to the staff and other customers as a sissy getting a ‘beauty’ treatment, the fashion show at that ladies clothing store--the back-room lingerie display for all to see. When they dragged (ha, the word really fits!) him to the campus hangout for everybody’s amusement! And all those humiliating degrading pictures, the threats of showing them to everyone on campus via the computer. The threats of total destruction--he would be thrown off campus and more than likely arrested on morals charges, which they would probably trump up!

He walked over to the booth she was occupying, and sat, saying, "hello, Janice," in the coldest manner he could muster!

"Hi, Mitch," she said. "Hey, look I’m sorry..."

"Oh, stuff it, please don’t give me that crap!" Mitch replied, interrupting her.

"Mitch, please, I’m trying to...."

"Look, Mistress Janice," he said bitterly, "that is what you told me to call you, isn’t!"

"We are getting nowhere. Look, I’ve got all...."

Just then the waiter interrupted, asking, "Would you like me to get a cup of coffee for you!’

"Yes, thank you!"

When the waiter left, she picked up where she left off, "I’ve got all the pictures, videos and stuff here in this bag," picking up and handing him a large shopping bag! He looked in the bag and saw that it did, indeed, contain what appeared to be what she had stated. He had already made up his mind, from past experience he knew she was NOT to be trusted.

While he examined the contents of the bag, the waiter returned with a hot cup of coffee which he set before Mitch with, "Here’s your coffee, sir," and left, going to seat a couple that had just entered.

"Look, Mitch, you’re a nice guy, and...."

"NO! You look and listen," Mitch said, as he pushed the bag back to her. "What you did to me, ruined me. You cannot redeem my reputation on campus--I’m a laughing-stock! Well, I don’t care what the hell you and those other fucking bitches do..."

"Please, Mitch, I’m trying to..."

"Oh, hell, will you shut the fuck up! As I said, I don’t give a damn what you do, I’ve submitted my resignation to the school. As for my Master’s thesis, I tore it up and threw it away. No use in even trying now, once my professors get a hold of those photos. Oh, my apartment? I’ve moved out! So, you can show those pictures all over, if you want! I won’t be around here so it won’t bother me!" He picked up the bag and emptied it on the table in front of her.

"Mitch, please reconsider....."

"NO WAY! I got everything I own outright in my car, I’m heading for a place that’s as far away from you and your friends as I can get," Mitch said very vehemently.

Mitch got up, took a sip of the hot coffee, looked down at her, and said, "Well, this is good bye, and as far as I’m concerned, good riddance." He looked at the front of her blouse and the hot cup of coffee. "No, I’m not sinking to her level," he thought. Placing it on the table, Mitch left, and soon was driving away to a new life, saying, "I wonder how much they burger flippers now!"


Mitch woke up in his bed with a start! It was all a dream! It was so real. Could he, would he say those things? He looked down at his legs, covered with nylon stockings. There he was, in bed, still wearing a bra, panties, garter belt and stockings--he was so tired he didn’t take them off last night!

"Well, I guess I better get up!" Mitch rolled around to the side of the bed, found his leather slippers, put them on, got up and put a robe on. He went to his kitchen, started the coffeemaker, and put the sausage and eggs on to cook, bagels in a toaster oven. After pouring a glass of OJ, he started to think about his dream: "God, it was so real! But, where did that guy come from? There wasn’t any other males around, only me. Could he be a product my homophobia, and do I have homophobia? Am I afraid this incident will make me a queer? Gay, maybe?" "I had better a breakfast," Mitch said, scrambling his eggs and sausage. He put his scrambled sausage-an-eggs on a plate, got the bagels, buttered them, and add them on. After getting his coffee, he sat down to eat, brrrg, brrrg.

The phone interrupted his thoughts, "Hello, Mitch Roberts speaking."

"Mitch, please, please don’t hang up! It’s Janice, and I’ve GOT to talk to you! It’s urgent!"

"Well, you’re talking to me now. What do you want," he said, slightly irritated at hearing her voice.

"Could you meet us at the campus coffee shop at ten, today, please!"

"Sure, I’ll see you there at about ten!" Mitch hung up the phone, and went to shower and put on some more appropriate clothing.

At just a few minutes before ten, Mitch walked into Koffee Galore, stopped, located Janice. She was sitting in a booth with a few of her friends he recognized from the weekend. He walked over, and said, rather friendly-like, "Hello Janice! Hi Nancy! Hi Sam! How are all of you!"

Janice said her hellos, followed by the others. "Mitch, we’re really very sorry about the way you were treated on the weekend. We never intended to show anyone those photos. In fact, we have them here and you can have them!" Saying that, Nancy reached down and picked up a large bag, saying, "It’s all here--the videos, the polaroids, everything!"

Mitch took the bag in his hands, looked inside. It was at that moment the waiter appeared!

"Would you like some cappuccino, cafe latte or. . ."

Jan spoke up, "I think we all want decaf, whatever. Oh, hell. Four cups of coffee, surprise us, and I don’t mean by the size of the check!"

Mitch spoke first, "Keep the pictures! I did a lot of thinking this morning, and I come to the conclusion that I ‘liked’ wearing those clothes. I like the femininity about them. In fact, I’m going to start wearing them full-time! Since I like female clothes, that must mean I’m a female, and so, I must like boys! I would guess that what I am on the outside is a joke that nature played, inside I’m female. All those clothes, well, they just triggered something inside! I once had this fear of being a homosexual, I don’t know why--now that you had me crossdressed, I realize that I feared being what I really was. A Homosexual!"

Everyone halted what they were doing as the waiter arrived with the coffees "Four coffees, will that be all?" he intoned in a waiterish monotone.

"Yes, thanks!

As the waiter left, Mitch resumed, "So, I guess I’ll be just like so many crossdressers, only I can admit to being a homo."

"Mitch, are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Sam, if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, it sure in hell isn’t a rabbit!" Mitch replied. "Look, people are afraid to admit to the truth. They continue hiding things from themselves. They put names on others and hide it inside that they are the same as the ones they put the names on! It’s an avoidance of the truth. I want to wear female clothes, to hide the fact that I’m a male. Why? To attract a man, that’s why! Why else does a woman wear the style of clothes she does! And, sweeties, you know what they say-- a girl isn’t a woman until she gets f--ked by a man--and I intend to be a woman before the end of semester! So, ladies, it looks like I’m going to be some future competition for you! Well, I must be going, I’ve got some lingerie shopping to do. Toodles!"


We all make our own dungeons when we refuse to accept facts that are clear! We live in a cell of ignorance, chained to ideas we refuse to give up, and tortured by fears of accepting what we are. No matter how much freedom you have, fear of being what you are, who you are and not admitting it is a slavery of the worst kind! You are in bondage to the worst possible master, yourself!

Finis--Annie O


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