Karen entered the house, kicked the door shut, went to the bedroom, dropped the numerous packages she had on her hands on the soft carpet, and let herself fall on the bed, letting out a long sigh.
That afternoon of shopping had been exhausting physically as well as psychologically. Mac had dropped her. He said that he preferred someone with tighter and sexier clothes. She had loved him with all her heart, and now he was letting her down simply because of the way she dressed. She liked close fitting clothes, and her slender body rendered them well, but she was not fond of very tight clothes, at least, not as tight as Mac would have liked.
She saw him earlier with a beautiful blonde, wearing tight jeans and high heels. The jeans were a lot tighter than those she would normally wear, and she never wore high heels. That pissed her off.
Karen knew that Mac didn’t like the woman for what she was, but for what she wore. It happened that the blonde in question was an old college pal, and was quite friend with Karen, although she had never met her since school. Karen was able to get in touch with her, and Lynda was happy to meet her after all these years.
They met in a discreet restaurant a day Mac would be at work late at night. Karen was wearing a red knee length dress with a white blouse and flat sole sandals, and Lynda was wearing tight dark green denim jeans, four inches pumps, and a t-shirt.
Karen explained to Lynda how her relation was with Mac, and how and why he dumped her. Of course, Lynda thought that Karen was saying that to break Mac’s relationship with her, so she would have a chance to get him back.
“I know what you think” said Karen “and I would probably think the same thing if I were in your shoes. No, I don’t want him back. Never ever. All I was for him was an object. I just hope for you that it’s not the case. I remembered that we were quite close friends, and we said that we would always care for each other. I simply don’t want you to have your heart broken the way mine was.”
“I understand, Karen.” Answered Lynda. “I’m not saying that I don’t believe you, but that it’s just hard to believe. Mac is so sweet and romantic.”
“Yes… I know… That’s how he was with me at first too, but all changed when I refused to wear tight clothes.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with tight clothes, I wear it all the time. If he likes it, he’s welcome.”
“That’s your taste and your choice. What I’m saying is that Mac likes you ONLY for that. Not for you, not for your ideas, not for what you think, but only because you wear tight jeans.”
“I don’t believe you. I think you just want you to get even by breaking his new relationship.”
“Well, if that’s what you think, you’re wrong.” said Karen while gathering her things that were on the small restaurant table. “Don’t take my word for it. Put him to the test.”
“I can’t go to him and say: hey, do you like me for me, or for my jeans.”
“Of course not,” said Karen while getting up “but wear loose jeans for a few days. You’ll see. The coffee is on me. It was nice to meet you again, Lynda. Good luck.”
She left the table, paid at the cash register and walked out without looking back. Lynda stayed at the table and ordered another coffee. She knew Karen, and it would be her style to get even. But they were also close friends, and if for getting even she had to hurt a dear friend, she would not do it. Lynda thought that she had nothing to lose by trying.
Two weeks later, Karen got a call. It was Lynda, and she was in tears. They agreed to meet at the restaurant. Lynda explained.
“I tried what you said, and came home wearing loose jeans and flat sole shoes. He looked at me with disgust, asking me what stupid idea had crossed my mind to dress like that. I answered that it was more comfortable. He said that comfort was not the issue, that I should always wear tight jeans and heels. I kept the loose jeans and shoes for the week, and we never made love. Each time I approached him to have sex, he looked at me with disgust and saying that he was not in the mood. For the past four days, he has been coming late, and I suspect that he’s seeing someone else.”
Karen took her hand.
“I understand fully what you’re going through. I just hope that I was able to warn you in time, before you grew too attached to him.”
“I think you got me just in time, and I thank you. That also means that the next one he’ll chose will be again only for her tight jeans, not for her personality.”
“Probably, yes. But we can’t go on warning every woman in the city.”
“No, but we can scare him.”
“How?” asked Karen
“By giving him more than what he wants.”
“Ooo. I remember these sparks you have in your eyes. You have another one of your diabolic plans. But he will recognise us.”
“Not at all. My brother is a make-up artist for the local TV station. He’ll have us transformed.”
“I like the idea. What’s your plan?”
So there she was. She was back from buying all she needed for Lynda’s plan, and tonight was the big night. She got up from the bed, took the packages and spread the content on the bed. There was two packs of nylon stockings, two pairs of 5 inches platform shoes, one black and one red, two pairs of jeans, one corset, one pair of elbow length and one pair of wrist length black leather gloves, two PVC bodysuits, one black and one red, one leather collar, one ball gag, four leather cuffs, three bundles of rope and a few rolls of duct tape.
She put one of the jeans, shoes, gloves, bodysuit and nylon stockings aside, and put the rest in a cardboard box. She undressed and proceeded with dressing up. She first put on the nylon stockings, followed by the black PVC bodysuit. The suit was very tight, and after zipping the zipper from the crotch to the waist, she stopped. Next was the jeans. She fed the jeans up to her knees, and fed all the legs of the pants past her ankles. She then put on the black platform shoes, buckling the ankle strap tightly. She followed Lynda’s advice and laid on her back on the bed to feed the jeans higher up her legs. She twisted and tugged and pulled, but the jeans would not go high enough, not mentioning the waist zipper that was far to be closed.
She decided to wait for Lynda’s arrival, due in an hour, to continue the work. While laying there, she was feeling the tight bodysuit, compressing her lower body, and her arms. It felt uncomfortable. She thought that if it was all zipped up, the pressure being equal, it would be more comfy, so she grabbed the zipper, tucked in her stomach, and pulled it up.
It crushed her breast and she almost choked when the high collar tightened around her neck. She squirmed hoping the suit would settle. No, it was not more comfy like that, in fact it was worse. She put her hands on her side and tried to relax. Surprisingly, the suit seemed to adjust to her, and at one point, it felt like she was wearing nothing. She even dozed off a few minutes. When she woke up, she was surprised to even have slept in it. When she moved, she had to repress a moan as she moved her hand to her crotch. That feeling was quite unexpected. Was she really getting excited by that? She slowly started to rub her crotch, and waves of pleasure started to flow. She rubbed, harder and faster, and she got even more excited. She exploded by throwing her hips in the air, and letting them bounce on the bed, while panting, she was finding her breath.
“Not bad for someone who said she didn’t like tight clothes.”
Karen startled. Lynda was standing on the bedroom door.
“You were there?”
“Well, I just came in. I knocked but there was no answer. Since the door was unlocked, I opened it and I followed… the noise.”
“Don’t be shy. It’s perfectly normal. That’s how I discovered the pleasure of tight jeans. How do you like my outfit?” she said, turning herself.
She was wearing jeans so tight that there was barely a wrinkle from the waist down. When she walked there was only one crease forming at the bottom of each bun. The seams seemed ready to pop, and the zipper was screaming to be released. She was also wearing a white PVC bodysuit along with matching gloves, and white platform shoes.
“That should get his attention” said Karen “but I doubt that I would be able to go on with it.”
“And why not?” asked Lynda.
“Because I can’t get into these jeans. They’re way too small.”
“Nonsense.” Said Lynda. “It’s just that you haven’t mastered it yet. Here, I’ll show you.”
Lynda instructed her to get up, grabbed the waist of the jeans and pulled them up as she was slowly jumping in place, then, while always pulling, twisting each leg separately. At one point, Lynda gave her a hand, and the crotch rose in place, making Karen produce a strange sound.
“Very good. That means it’s on the right spot. Now, lay down on the bed. It’s easier to do it at two, but with practice you will manage to do it alone.”
“Alone? I don’t plan to wear that ever again.” Said Karen.
“Whatever.” Said Lynda taking place in a kneeling position over Karen’s legs. “Now, I will get the sides as close together as I can, and you’ll pull the zipper with the pliers and don’t forget to exhale fully. Ready? Go.”
Lynda grabbed the side of the pants and pulled them toward one another while Karen worked the zipper. Pin by pin it went up, until finally, it reached the top. Karen fastened the button, which was rather easy, and then Karen took a deep breath.
“Gee. I can’t breathe in these.”
“You’ll get used to it. Now, get up. Let’s try some walking with your new shoes.
Lynda helped Karen get on her feet. She was quite unsteady, her highest heels being 2 inches.
“Put most of your weight on the ball of your foot.” Said Lynda.
“Can’t… can’t we start with something a little lower?”
“No need. I chose platform shoes because they’re sturdier, the sole doesn’t tend to twist, so you have more stability. Go ahead, make a few steps.”
Karen did. She was surprised at how easy she managed to do it. Within a few minutes, she was walking as if she had always been wearing them.
“How does the jeans feel?”
“Strange.” She said, “It’s constricting, but at the same time, kind of exciting.”
“That’s the spirit. The way you handled everything, I think you’re the right kind.”
“The right kind for what?”
“The right kind to wear tight clothes and high heels.”
Karen had a nervous laugh.
“No way. I wear that for our plan, but there’s no way I’m gonna wear that on a regular basis.”
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow. Okay, time to go meet my brother.”
They drove to the movie studio. Lynda’s brother was waiting for them, and opened the back door.
“The make-up dept. is empty at this hour. We shouldn’t be disturbed.”
“Thanks Phil. You’re an angel” said Karen while kissing him on the cheek.
They were installed in the make-up chairs and Phil started his work. Lynda was transformed from a short haired blonde with blue eyes to a brunette with green eyes. Her jaw had been reconfigured with prosthetics. Karen long brown hairs were dyed auburn, and her brown eyes were now deep blue. He made her a new nose. Adding the rest of the make-up, and giving the fact that the lighting in bars is not very good, nobody could recognise them. Phil drove them to their destination, in a phoney cab and waited for them. He had a good look at them as they were entering the bar. Their tight jeans and high heels would certainly attract attention. It was time to put the plan to work.
They arrived at the bar slightly before Mac arrived. When they spotted him, they went to the dance floor and started to wiggle their tight butts, which immediately attracted Mac’s attention. He approached them, realising that they were a “pair” as they both wore the same outfit, but different colours. He rubbed their tight PCV bodysuits while making suggesting moves. They presented themselves as Samantha and Monique. He offered them a drink, which they accepted.
After a few drinks, Mac was ready for more action, and he offered them to go to a nearby motel, so he could explore them in more detail. Karen and Lynda repressed the temptation to kick him in the groin and accepted. They hailed a cab, and Phil was right there.
They got in, all three in the back. Mac didn’t want to miss any of the tight rubbing. He was gliding his hand along their tightly enclosed waist to their thighs, feeling the tight fabric. Lynda reached under the seat and produced a bottle of whiskey, which happened to be Mac’s preferred brand. They didn’t have to force him, he happily took the bottle, opened it and had a long shot at the beverage, without even asking where it had suddenly come from. They continued to talk for a few minutes, then the sleeping potion took effect. Mac fell asleep.
“Okay Phil, he’s out. Let’s go to the barn.”
It was an old barn behind their summer house. Phil used it as his test lab to try new products. His wish was to work for a big Hollywood studio and he was convinced that by making a revolutionary make-up, he would get noticed. He was still trying and this was a chance to try his new invention.
They dragged Mac out of the car and laid him on the wooden floor. They attached the leather cuffs on his wrists and locked them in his back, then locked his ankle cuffs together with padlocks, linking the wrist cuffs to a nearby beam. They waited for him to come back. They figured they would have time for a little nap, as he was drunk and now drugged.
The sun was starting to light up the sky. They were awakened by a scream for help. Mac was back to reality, and he didn’t like what he saw. Lynda and Karen, both still dressed up and transformed, walked to him.
“You… You drugged me. Free me now or I’ll call the cops.”
“What? You want to leave us this early? We thought you liked to look at women in tight clothes. We wanted to give you the first row view.” Said Lynda
“But… why the cuffs?”
“We wanted to have all your attention. Here, let me help you.” Said Karen.
She kneeled close to him, making sure he was seeing her tight butt in the air, as well as the heels while she was unlinking the cuffs. He was so concentrated on his sighting that he didn’t even notice that she had re-attached the cuffs to ropes laying on the floor. Before he could react, Lynda had flipped the overhead winch on, and his hands were rising.
“No, hey! Wait! What are you doing?”
He tried to get rid of the cuffs, but they were locked on, and the rope was tightly knotted. The winch went on until his feet barely touched the ground.
“Let me down! You can’t do that to me. HELP!”
“I think he speaks too much, don’t you think?”
“You’re right. Better take care of that.” Said Karen while grabbing the ball gag and walking behind Mac.
“No way.” He said before clamping his mouth shut.
Karen took place behind him and positioned the ball gag. Of course, he wasn’t being cooperative so Lynda took extreme measures. She approached and pinched his nose. He would have to open his mouth to breath. He did it slightly, just enough to exhale and when he started to inhale, she squeezed his groin with her other hand. He opened his mouth to let out a protest and Karen successfully pulled the gag deep in his mouth, tightening it as much as she could, so he would not spit it out. He squirmed in his bonds and started to kick around with his bound feet. The two women walked back, giving him time to relax. Without him noticing it, Lynda took place behind him and crawled to his feet. When he settled down, she quickly grabbed a clip from a ring on the floor and linked it to his ankle cuffs. Now, he was unable to kick anyone.
“You’re probably asking yourself what’s in store for you right? Well, I’ll give you a clue, and the rest will come as it goes. You like women in tight clothing. That’s all you care about. Love is not important. The person is not important. Just what she wears, whether it’s comfortable or not. So, we decided to make you live an experience. We’re going to dress you like we are, and then you’ll have our point of view.” She said with an evil laugh while he was trying to get free, but wasn’t succeeding.
Karen brought the cardboard box containing all the equipment. First, she took out a pair of scissors, and proceeded to cut off his clothes. Once naked, it was obvious that he had a hard-on. She caressed his cock with her gloved hand, just enough to excite him, but not enough to relieve him. Lynda came out with the first item: a corset. Mac had wide eyes and was nodding no. The corset was long, covering him from the hips to the chest with shoulder straps and was including false boobs.
Lynda took position behind him, holding the corset as Karen was closing the front busks. Lynda then proceeded to tighten it. It went easy for the first part, but when there was about two inches left, she started to have trouble. Mac was keeping his stomach stiff, and was resisting the lacing. Karen came to the rescue. They each grabbed one end of the lace, and put their knees on Mac’s back, and pulled. Mac resisted, but the both of them were too strong. Gradually, the corset closed, until the two ends met.
They tied the laces and stepped back to have a look at their creations. His waist, already slim for a man, had been squeezed another four inches. Mac was panting heavily, and didn’t look quite happy. Karen took three small padlocks with long rods and fed them through lace holes at top, middle and bottom of the corset. This would ensure that he was not to remove it. The padlocks were small enough not to create bulges. It was Phil’s concept.
“Now, the fun part, we have to get rid of your manhood.” Said Lynda, laughing. Mac wasn’t. She went in his back and returned with what looked like a girdle. She kneeled in front of him. She attached two other chains to the floor ring and fed one chain per leg of the girdle before attaching the other end of the chains to each ankle. She then removed the middle padlock which separated the legs. Mac tried to wiggle his way out, but although the chain allowed some swinging, his legs were not free. Lynda grabbed the girdle with two hands and pulled hard on it to get it up. It appeared way too small for him.
“Looks small, isn’t it? Well, you’re right. It’s about three sized too small for you, but you said that you liked it tight, so there you have it.” Said Lynda, laughing again.
When she reached his thighs, it was obvious that his hard cock was not going to fit in without showing.
“I have the perfect solution for that” said Karen while kneeling in front of him.
Mac was getting ready for a blow job, but what he received was a handful of crushed ice. His cock quickly retreated. Lynda placed it upside down, between his legs with her hand while Karen grabbed the girdle and pulled it up the few remaining inches. His cock was fed in a small pouch inside the girdle.
The tight garment compressed his cock and balls, returning deep up, where they once belonged many years earlier. When the girdle was released, there was absolutely no trace of his manhood. Lynda had a smile.
“Very good. Now, don’t worry if you have to pee, there’s a small hole under the girdle. All you have to do is sit on the toilet and let it go. Fits nice, hey? That’s my brother’s invention. Doesn’t he look gorgeous?”
“You’re absolutely right. I can’t wait to see him… her in heels.” Said Karen.
They both laughed, but Mac wasn’t. This was going way farther than what he had bargained for. The leg procedure was used again to allow the insertion of various items, the first one being a pair of nylon stockings. Again, they were a lot smaller than what was needed.
“Now, I’m going to have to release one arm at a time. We can go through it the easy way or the hard way. You cooperate, it will go fine. If not, we’ll send you back to sleep. So you have the choice of living it, or sleeping it, but the end result will be the same. You WILL get dressed the way we planned. What do you choose?”
Mac nodded a slow yes. Karen released one arm, and they fitted him with a shoulder length leather glove. They did the same with the other arm. They then went back to the legs. The bodysuit was drawn first. It was cut tightly, to fit the corseted figure.
Again, one arm at the time was released to be fed into the tight sleeves. Then came the jeans. That was a hard job. They pulled and pulled. Closing the zipper proved to be a real challenge. Neither of them had ever worked jeans as tight as these, simply because it was almost impossible to close. With the use of pliers and good strength, they were finally able to close the zipper. They were simply hoping the zipper, along with the seams, will hold the treatment they had in reserve. Next came the shoes. They had a wide ankle strap with a padlock.
“We’re going to lower you on the ground now” said Lynda as she slowly operated the winch. Gradually, Mac felt his weight again and the compression of the corset and tight jeans increased as he was no longer stretched, and the gravity pull doing its work.
Karen went behind him and fastened a large leather collar to which she attached a chain linked to a track on the ceiling. As his arms got lower, Mac was panting more and more. Karen quickly grabbed his arms and fastened them in the back. She then replaced the lock linking his ankles with an 8 inches chain.
Mac was staying there, not moving, eyes wide open, breathing by small gasps.
“May I remind you” began Lynda “that, besides the ankle and wrist restraints, all you have on is tight clothes. So you’re probably starting to get a pretty good feeling. But standing is one thing. Moving is another one. Follow me.”
Lynda walked toward the back of the barn, where the overhead track was leading. Mac made a few tentative steps. He was uneasy, and with the arms in his back, his balance was not very good. At one point he passed in front of a mirror and was stunned at what he looked like. He was rather small and of thin constitution at first, so the corset and jeans, along with the right proportioned boobs, he looked gorgeous, to his own surprise, he even got turned on, but his concealed cock, instead of getting hard, hurt like hell.
He found the overall look quite appealing. A tug on his chain brings him back to reality. He was entering another room, filled with exercise equipment. There was a stair simulator, a treadmill, a rowing machine, weights, everything you need to get in shape.
“We figured,” began Lynda, “that by simply dressing you like that, you wouldn’t get the full picture of living in these clothes. So, we set up a few exercises. First of all: the treadmill. Please, get on it.”
It was more an order than a request. Mac stepped on it. Lynda linked a chain from a D ring in front of his collar to the treadmill. The length of chain prevented him from letting himself drop at the end of it and stay on the ground. Plexiglass sides blocked the possibility of getting off from the sides. Once on it, he would have to walk. There was no escape.
“First, a slow walk,” said Lynda while turning the motor on, “so you can get used to your limited movements. I believe 15 minutes is a good choice.”
She raised the speed until he was doing about one step every second, then they both got comfy on a lawn chair, looking at him. At first, Mac found it quite easy, but after a few minutes, his hips began to ache from the straining of the muscles wanting to work but not having the free room to do so, and his feet who were hurting like hell in the high heels.
He was panting, the corset preventing his lungs from expanding enough for the proper amount of air. He tripped a few times, but was able to recover in time. Then, he tripped one more time, but this time, he was unable to get his feet back under his body. Immediately, Lynda cut the power and the carpet rolled to a halt. Mac was panting heavily. His hands, still tied in his back, were preventing him from grabbing hold of the rails to get up. He was suspended by his collar. Karen and Lynda gave him a hand to get back on his feet. Less than a minute later, the carpet started moving again, regardless of Mac protests.
“Your 15 minutes are not done yet.” Was the only answer he got.
Twice he fell. Twice, the carpet was restarted. Finally, it stopped. Mac was relieved. He had gotten the message. He was ready to get out of these clothes and go on with his life. He thought about Lynda, his last flame, Margaret, Sandy, Carrie, Suzanne, Karen, Helen, all the girls he loved only for their tight clothes, and what they had to endure. But to his dismay, it wasn’t over. Lynda offered him a seat, but when he tried to sit, he realised that he was incapable of bending at the waist. He had to settle by leaning against a stool, and thus, unable to relieve the stress on his feet. After a short 15 minutes break, they led him to the stairs simulator.
“What do you think it feels like having to climb three flights of stairs while you, pervert, look at our tight butts wiggling to get one step higher? Well, you’ll know shortly. What do you think of, let’s say, about 10 storeys?”
Again he was tied in a way that he couldn’t get off the machine, and it slowly started. The stairs were rolling by again about one every second or so. He had to rock his hips, because the waist wouldn’t bend, twist his knee because he couldn’t raise his leg high enough, adding the height of the heel.
Again, he tripped a few times, ending suspended by the leather collar. After what seemed like hours, but has been only 10 minutes, he was released. He looked with fear at the rowing machine, knowing that he would never be able to bend enough to operate it. He had a slight relief when they led him past the machine, to a haystack. Karen bends and puts a padlock linking his ankle cuffs together.
“Here, have a rest. You’ll need it; your experiences are not over yet.”
Whatever. All he wanted was to relieve his poor feet and hips. He dropped on his knees, and let himself roll on his back. He let out a long sigh.
The women came back about an hour and a half later.
“I guess you would like to go to the toilet, right?”
Mac nodded. Yes he was ready. His bladder had made it clear a while ago. The jeans were removed. He was led to the outside toilet. His ankles were locked to rings on the floor, and once seated, his collar was locked to a ring on the back wall. The crotch zipper of the body suit was opened. He was left there for half an hour, and it proved not to be too long, as the bladder, squeezed by the corset, and his cock, squeezed by the tight girdle were not letting the liquid go out that easily. They brought him back to the barn where they tied his collar to one of the ceiling rings and proceeded to put the jeans on again. Mac tried to resist.
“We said that your ordeal was not over. You’re getting back in these jeans, whether you want it or not. Again, hard way or easy way. Which one do you prefer?”
Mac let out a sigh, and complied. He even tried to make it as easy as possible, probably thinking that if he was helping them, they would go easier on him. That was misjudging them.
They bring him to a make-up chair. Once in it, they strapped him everywhere, so that not a single move was possible. They replaced his 2 inches leather collar with a severe posture collar, preventing his head from moving at all. Special contact lenses were applied, rendering his sight blurred but keeping his eyes free. Then Phil entered the room. He took his clipper and started to shave Mac’s head who reacted badly, knowing perfectly what was taking place.
“Relax” said Lynda “once the first clipping has started, it’s too late anyway. Would you rather go with a half shaved head or a completely shaved one?”
Mac stopped. That was leading him nowhere anyway. Once the head had been shaved clean, Phil applied a gel, followed by a blond long buckled hairs wig, which he carefully put in place. He then switched to work on his face. Mac could see that there was someone, but his blurred vision prevented him from distinguishing who that person was. He felt make-up being applied. Lynda approached.
“I’m going to remove the gag now. Not a single word. Understood?”
Mac nodded yes and Lynda removed the gag. He exercised his jaw a few times, licking his lips, and glad to be able to swallow normally.
“Listen Monique, Samanta, I’m really sorry for the way I acted. I got the message. Now, if you’ll just let me go, I promise…”
“Shut up or I’ll put the gag on again. Yes you’ll be free. By midnight tonight. Not a single second sooner. We have more things planned for you.”
Mac opened his mouth to reply. Lynda put a finger on his lips.
“I said shut up.”
She made way for Phil to work. He shaved him to perfection before starting to applied make-up to Mac’s face, transforming him into a gorgeous woman, finishing with bright red lipstick. They took a mirror and showed Mac his new look. He smiled, finding himself gorgeous. The posture collar was removed immediately replaced by the 2 inches leather collar. They led him to a van where he was instructed to lie down, being unable to sit anyway. His hands were tied in his back, his feet together, and his collar to a floor ring. He had now way to tell where he was heading. The drive took almost two hours. When they finally stopped, it was late afternoon. The back door opened and he was led out. His cuffs were removed, but not the collar to which Lynda attached a black box. The gag was removed.
“Let me touch-up your lips, dear” said Karen while applying a transparent gel. “Good, now press them together.”
Mac did, but to his dismay, her lips wouldn’t open again. He started to panic, stretching his mouth wide trying to unglue them.
“Relax” said Karen “it’s surgical glue. The more you try, the more you risk tearing your lips, and that will hurt, not to mention disfigure you. Relax and listen. You can’t speak. You can hardly see. There is a small thread within your outfit. It is linked to the black box you have on your collar. That box is the same thing as a stun gun. If the thread is broken, it will deliver an electric shock that will render you unconscious for a while. Needless to say it hurts like hell. Of course, the collar is locked. We’ve added a lock to your jeans. The bodysuit won’t come off unless you remove the collar, and the jeans won’t come off until you remove the waist lock. You also have locks on your corset. Now, the trick for you, is to find your way home. With effort, you will be able to remove one or the two contact lenses, and be at least able to see better. You have no id on you, so better not get caught by the police. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes and having to explain all this to your lawyer.”
“All you need to get out of this” continued Karen “is at your apartment. The keys and the solvent to remove the glue on your lips and head”
With that, Mac tried to remove the wig, but it was glued on.
“So, good luck, and see you around, Mac, or should I say Macy?”
They closed the doors of the van and drove off, leaving Mac/Macy in the middle of that little street. He didn’t know where he was, and he couldn’t ask for directions. He got the message.
The next morning, Lynda was knocking at his door. She was back as a short haired blonde, and was wearing tight jeans and a t-shirt, her everyday outfit. She saw him looking at the peeping hole first, before slightly opening the door. He had removed the wig. Lynda acted surprised.
“What the hell? Why did you shave your head like that?” she said while entering, then, as she saw the corset, the heels and the rest of the stuff laying on the floor she acted disgusted.”
“You’re seeing someone else? How dare you!”
“No, no, that’s not what you think.”
“Don’t tell me that you’re dressing up like a woman.”
“Well, no, yes and no. It’s a long and unbelievable story. Here, sit.”
And he went on telling everything. He obviously has recognised neither her nor Karen.
“… So, would you forgive me? Let me try again, but for yourself this time. I won’t mind if you wear loose clothes.”
“No thanks,” said Lynda while standing up and getting ready to leave. First of all, I don’t believe in your story, who would, and second of all, I don’t like shaved heads. Good luck, Mac.”
“But it will grow back…”
She went on, slamming the door on her way out. She repressed a laugh. She went to meet Karen at the restaurant. To her surprise, she was wearing tight jeans and high heels.
“I thought you didn’t like these,” said Lynda.
“Well, I guess I’m of the right kind.”
© Pete / monsterp63, July 19, 2001
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