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This story may NOT be archived in ANY FORMAT whatsoever in existence today or under development now or developed in the future for public display, FOR FREE or PAY without the expressed WRITTEN consent of the author. Midnight downloads is available electronically, for free. It will NEVER be found on a pay to access site with the author's permission!

This is a work of fiction. Any people, places or locations within are purely fiction and the product of the author's imagination, or their names are used to add realism and/or for satirical purposes. Their use does not constitute any type of endorsement or agreement, in part or in whole, with any belief or message, expressed, implied or otherwise inferred by the author and the story/story line, nor do they imply any endorsement of the story or author.

This story contains scenes of EXTREME VIOLENCE, mature subject matter and deals with alternative lifestyles. If you are not comfortable with these concepts and materials, STOP reading NOW. If you are under the age of seniority and consent where you live, or if these types of materials are illegal for you to read, possess or download, you must STOP reading NOW and you may NOT download this story. If you are very religious, this work will probably anger you. Do not read it. Do not download it. Hello, nice to see you, GO AWAY. You'll be more comfortable at http://www.disney.com please go there instead of here.

 

Midnight Downloads
by Wendy-J
Wendy-J@KimEM.net
© 1999-2004 Wendy-J All Rights Reserved.
Unauthorized distribution or archival prohibited.

 

Part-4
Friday Afternoon September 4^th

It was like a nightmare. No, it was worse than a nightmare, it was like something right out of one of those crazy stories he'd been reading at Fiction Mania. Ernie couldn't believe what was happening to him. How could his life have become so insane and so totally out of control in the span of just a few hours? Was it really just a few hours ago that he was a normal eighteen-year-old boy? It seemed like it had been an eternity. Now here he was, in the overly plush salon of a fancy lingerie shoppe, holding an ice pack to his throbbing head, and everyone was treating him as if he were a girl!

First they'd plopped him down in a chair that reminded him of the chairs at the barbershop. Then, without warning, they pulled off his shoes, socks, jeans and t-shirt and put some sort of plasticised cape around him, fastening it at the neck. Except for his y-fronts and the drape, he was naked! Next they washed and conditioned his hair and trimmed his bangs. Bangs…he now had bangs. Then they waxed his underarms, legs, and eyebrows. Gods how that had hurt! And after they finished torturing him by yanking all his body hair out by the roots, they started to put makeup on him! The gentle touches to his face caused him some sexual discomfort.

And then, to top it all off, his mother handed him a matching set of the sexiest, black, women's underwear he had ever seen in his life and pointed to a small door near the corner. Underwear? The scant handful of black satin and lace his mother had handed him looked like it might cover about the same amount of territory a regular men's handkerchief would.

"Take the rest of your clothes off in there and put these on," Jan said. "If you have any trouble with them, let me know. I'll be right outside the door."

Ernie took the proffered garments and slunk dejectedly to the door his mother indicated. It turned out to be a fairly large changing room with a padded side chair as its only furniture. The room was big enough to comfortably hold several people while one or more of them changed. The mirrors on the back of the door and on all the walls were arranged so that, no matter which way he looked, he was able to see himself from all sides.

He dropped the lingerie and ice pack on the floor. Pulling at the snaps of the cape, he ripped it off and threw it into a corner. Frustrated and near tears, Ernie sat on the chair and stared at the small pile of lingerie in confusion.

"What's happened to me? Why am I here? Why are they doing this to me?" The questions kept running through his pounding head. He wanted to cry. Each time he felt the sobs try to start he'd say to himself, "Men don't cry." The frequency of the its repetition was becoming more of a mantra than a reminder.

Ernie scooped up the lingerie and examined the items he was supposed to wear. The panties were a black stretchy lace affair lined in black satin. They didn't even look like they would cover a third of his bottom. And what they would cover of his front was negligible. The matching bra and suspender belt were constructed in much the same fashion. He examined the hook and eye closures and experimented with them. He finished stripping and, sitting on the chair, slid the panties up his legs. Their cool, smooth, silky feel caused his manhood to twitch.

"Please... not now," he groaned.

He stood and pulled the panties the rest of the way up his legs and adjusted the waistband. Then, taking the suspender belt in hand, he put it around his waist and fastened it. He threaded his arms through the straps of the bra and began fumbling with the clasps. Frustrated, he pulled it off, and this time, fastened it in front of himself and then spun it around. When it was in place, he pulled the straps up and over his arms.

"There," he said and looked in the mirror. His eyes did not want to believe the image he saw.

There was a soft knock at the door. He all but jumped out of his skin. The fright caused his head to pound.

"W-w-wu…what?" he stammered.

"How are you doing, Sweetie?" his mother called softly.

"Ummm… Okay I guess," he croaked.

"Open the door and let me see," she replied in that way all mothers have for their children when trying on clothes.

He opened the door a crack to peer out. His mother, seeing opportunity knock, grabbed the knob, threw the door open the rest of the way, strode quickly into the room and pulled the door closed behind her. As she turned to face him, Ernie noticed that she had several hangars of clothes in her hands. He began to tremble as she hung them on a hook beside one of the mirrors on the wall.

She looked at her son, and with a smile, pointed at his crotch and said, "I think you should put that between your legs, dear. You don't want to be showing any untoward bulges now, do you?"

Ernie blushed and turned his back to his mother. It was nothing more than an allusion to modesty in the mirrored room, but it got the point across.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll close my eyes. Just let me know when you're done," she said.

Ernie did as he was told.

Giggling, Janice said, "You have your suspender belt on backwards, Honey. Here, let me." She reached out and spun the belt around, settling it into place at his waist.

"Okay, now sit down," she said.

Ernie sat in the chair and watched as his mother rolled a stocking up into a little donut-like shape.

"Now, stick out your leg and point your toes."

He complied without comment, looking on with detached fascination. His mother gently slid the black stocking up his leg. The sensation was deliciously electric.

"Now the other one."

That done, Janice reached up and threaded the suspender straps through his panties, fastened the suspender tabs in the front and adjusted them.

"Okay, young lady, stand up and turn around."

Young lady… the phrase seemed to echo in Ernie's head. He whimpered, stood and turned. As his mother fastened the remaining suspender tabs to the stocking tops, he looked at his legs in the mirror. They seemed to shimmer as he moved to accommodate his mother's ministrations. He looked closer still. It seemed that there was only a hint of colour on those legs in the mirror and they appeared to be outlined in black. Their shape was incredible. He was in a daze, unable to pull his eyes away from the reflection of those legs in the mirror. It was as if they belonged to somebody else, to some goddess on the pages of one of the magazines under his bed.

His mother then took a hanger off the wall and removed a shiny black garment from it. Handing it to him, she said, "This is called a half-slip."

Ernie reached for the garment with trembling fingers.

"Oh, come on!" chided his mother. "It won't bite you!"

Looking at it up close, Ernie noticed it looked just like a skirt. It was made out of a thin, shiny satin, with ruffled lace at the hem. He stepped into the garment and stood there, looking balefully at his mother. His mother adjusted the half-slip about his waist and handed him a pair of breast forms.

"Put these in your bra," she said. Be careful, one goes on the left and the other on the right. And they do have a top and bottom.

Docilely, he took them from her, examined them closely, and then did as instructed. The breast forms were kind of cool to the touch and heavy, he noted. They pulled at the bra straps on his shoulders. Janice then gave him a black linen skirt. Without waiting for instructions, Ernie took the skirt and stepped into it.

He had the zipper in front and was about to pull it up when his mother said, "The zipper goes in the back, Honey."

Ernie spun the skirt around and awkwardly fumbled for the zipper. Finding it, he gently tugged it home.

Janice held out a matching double-breasted, long sleeved jacket without a collar. It barely came to his waist. Ernie threaded his arms into the jacket and proceeded to try and button it. The buttons perplexed him, they seemed all wrong.

His mother stopped him and buttoned a single button on the inside of the garment first and then, a single button on the front. The jacket fit him like a second skin. It was loose enough to move around in, yet hugged and accentuated every curve.

"Curve? Where and when did I get curves?" his mind screamed at him.

Janice did a final adjustment to the skirt, stood and opened the door. She was in the middle of the salon before she realised Ernie was still in the changing room, staring wide-eyed at his reflection.

"What are you waiting for, Tina? Come on out here. We haven't got all day you know," she said with a smile.

Slowly, Ernie started to walk out of the changing room in his stockinged feet. As soon as he was out in the middle of the salon, Jennifer handed him a pair of black, pointed toe, patent leather pumps with a three-inch stiletto heel. They looked absolutely lethal.

"Here you are, dear," she said with a smile that rivalled the fiercest of barracudas, "put these on."

Ernie took the shoes and just stood there staring at them.

"Well? What seems to be the problem?" Jennifer asked.

Ernie, a pained expression on his face, stared at the shoes. His mouth worked, but no sound issued forth.

"I think she's trying to tell us she can't walk in those heels," giggled Samantha.

"Come on over here, Honey," she said, patting the 'barber chair'. "Sit down and try on those shoes."

Ernie slowly walked over to the chair. He was all too aware of the strange and wonderful sensations the clothes were causing.

When he sat down, Samantha took the shoes from him and put them on his feet. "Okay, now stand up. Lean on me for support if you have to, okay?"

Ernie nodded numbly. As he stood up, he felt his entire centre of gravity shift. The shoes pushed him forward. It was almost like he was walking downhill. If it weren't for Samantha, he'd have fallen on his face.

"Oh come on, Tina!" Samantha chided. "They're only three-inch heels."

As soon as Ernie regained his balance, Samantha tugged his arm and proceeded to lead him about the room. Soon, he had the feel of the heels and was able to hobble about on his own.

"How the hell do women walk in these things?" he wondered.

"Okay, enough practice for now; back in the chair," Samantha said with a smile.

Ernie did as he was told.

And then Samantha, of all people, brushed out Ernie's shaggy mop of hair. Using a curling iron and hairspray, she managed to make it into a cute bob. To make matters worse, Ernie was becoming so excited he was afraid to move for fear he would pop out of the panties that were holding his member between his legs.

"Oh gods above, help me," Ernie pleaded silently.

"She's adorable, Jenny!" Janice exclaimed, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"Tina, you are gorgeous!" gushed Samantha. "I just love that shade of lipstick on you!" she finished, giggling.

Ernie wished he could just shrivel up and die on the spot. He turned beet red.

"Samantha, please! Mom, is this really necessary? I mean… do I really have to wear this stuff home? I can't go outside like this! What if someone notices?"

"Tina! That'll be enough of that!" his mother chided. "Of course someone will notice! You're a lovely young lady. All the boys will notice. With those legs and that face, they'll be dying for you to notice them! Just look at yourself!" she said as she stifled a giggle.

Ernie turned and looked in the mirror. He still couldn't believe it. Staring back at him was a tall, beautiful girl with eyes he could lose himself in.

"Now, try walking across the room again. That's it! Don't look at your feet! Head up!"

And so it went. For the next half-hour, Ernie drilled. Walk and sit, walk and sit. He thought he'd died and gone to hell. The shoes hurt his toes, but the stockings and panties were driving him crazy.

"Jan, she's perfect. He should have been born a girl." Jenny said.

Samantha just stared. Her eyes were as big as saucers. A slow smile crept across her face. "If I could just… It would never work. Or could it?" she thought as her smile broadened.

"Come along, Tina, let's go. We have to get you home. Samantha, did you drive today?" Janice asked.

"No, Mrs. Wilson, I walked. I don't have a car."

"Do you have a driver's license?"

"Yes'm."

"Would you mind driving Tina's car home for her? I would be so grateful."

"Sure, Mrs. Wilson, glad to help," she said.

Ernie opened his mouth to protest. Next to 'The Monster,' his car, a lipstick red, 1991 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme Coupe, was the only other thing in the world he even cared about. It was his pride and joy.

Before he could utter a sound, his mother said, "Honey, I can't let you drive home, not after taking that bump on the head. Tell her where you parked it." The look on her face said, "Don't you dare argue with me."

Haltingly, Ernie explained where he parked his car to his friend.

"Don't worry, Honey, I'll be careful, I promise," Samantha said. Then, standing on her toes, she gave him a peck on the cheek.

Ernie blushed yet again. It was the first time Samantha had ever kissed him.

Jennifer turned to Ernie and held out a small shoulder bag. It was a little black satin covered box-like thing on a long thin satin ribbon that formed a shoulder strap.

"Here you go, Tina," she said. "I put your things in here." Ernie reached out and took the bag by the ribbon shoulder strap. Holding it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger, well away from his body with his arm fully extended, he looked balefully at his mother.

"Don't just stand there gawking, dear," his mother said. "Put it over your shoulder and let's get going. Jenny, you'll take care of those other things for me, won't you?"

"Of course, Jan. I'll send Samantha by with them when she gets off work. I'll see you later, Dear. Oh! And do keep a close eye on Tina, she really did take a nasty fall."

"I will, Jen. Thanks again."

Janice turned and took Tina by the arm and whispered in her ear. "It's all in your attitude, Honey. Stand tall and look proud of your self. You don't want people to think there's something odd about the lovely young girl walking with her mother, do you? And what ever you do, don't say a word!"

Ernie froze in the doorway of the shoppe. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

"Just put one foot in front of the other, Honey. You'll do just fine," his mother whispered in his ear as she gently nudged him forward.

With that, the two of them walked out of the shoppe and onto the now bustling mall. Ernie's heels seemed to echo throughout the concourse, calling attention to him with every step he took. He kept waiting for what he thought was the inevitable cry, 'LOOK AT THE QUEER IN A DRESS!' He was terrified.

"Gods, I feel naked in this get up!" he thought. "Hell, I'm not even wearing a shirt!"

Everyone seemed to be staring at him. He just stared straight ahead as he walked, holding on to his mother's elbow in white knuckled terror. By the time they reached the car, he was a nervous wreck.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Jan asked, as she massaged her bruised elbow.

Ernie just shook his head. His hair seemed to fluff and wave about with each movement of his head. It was a strangely erotic feeling.

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Continued in Part-5

  

  

  

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