Lingerie Shop

You'd really rather do just about anything other than return to the mall to be gawked at by strangers and acquaintances and ... oh, God, don't let anybody who KNOWS you see you like this!

You're surrounded by Amanda's cohort of Amazons ... okay, one Amazon and one martial artist ... which is funny since you couldn't possibly run in these high-heeled sneakers. Katrina happens to be closest to you at the moment.

"Relax," she tells you, wrapping one arm around your corseted waist, "You're unrecognizable, which is why we went to the salon FIRST." She squeezes your hip. "For now, you're just a girl out shopp ing with her friends. Nobody's gonna recognize Marc under Marcia."

Her words reassure you a little, but ONLY a little because first, YOU can still recognize you even under all the makeup, dyed hair and girly hairstyle, so who's to say some jock, cheerleader or mean girl from school won't?

Second, this all seems far too well planned for your sister to be its mastermind. Amanda, for all her gifts, isn't a planner. She lacks the self-discipline to pull something like this off, and the foresight ... or maybe just the regard for your feelings or the fear of scandal ... to make the effort to guard your anonymity like this. So the question of the moment is, who's doing this to you? Or more accurately, who put Amanda up to this?

The girls have stopped on one of the main mall concourses; you almost run into Lilly, you're so absorbed in your thoughts, but Alex catches you bu the elbow and guides you to the left, into the store, a high-end lingerie shop called Imogen's Intimates.

The girls sort of manhandle you through the front entrance and into the shop, never quite shoving you but making it quite obvious that you have **** in the matter.

The shop is one of the mall's smaller ones, about half the size of the Elizabeth's Secrets on the otber side of the building. Behind the counter is a tall, darkly tan woman with waist-length, lustrous blonde hair. She smiles over at you and the girls.

"Hi, Amanda! Hey, Lilly, girls ... what can I do for you today?"

Amanda takes charge once again. "Hi, Imogen! This is Marcia, or Marcie if you prefer. She used to be my brother, but we're helping her change over from supposedly-male to sissy gurl, and she needs underwear."

You can feel your face heat as she talks, and you give het a look that could melt tungsten, which she ignores. Why is she doing this? Why make the effort to disguise you for shopping, only to publicly announce what she's doing to you in every shop you enter?

Apparently your reddening cheeks are visible even through your makeup. Imogen grins at you. "Awwww, is she shy?"

"Not really," Amanda answers. "Well, maybe a little. But more likely she's just having a little trouble adjusting. It's her first full day as a sissy."

Imogen looks surprised. "And you've got her out in public so soon? I'm impressed; your training methods must be ... formidable."

"Actually," Katrina says from behind you, "I think she's just a natural sissy submissive who's been looking for orders to follow for a long time." She grabs your right asscheek and gives it a squeeze. "Isn't that right, sweetie."

It's not a question, so you don't answer, instead staring at the toes of your pink sneakers and enjoying the feeling of her hand massaging your ass.

Imogen smiles over at you. "Well, I'll be happy to help your new sissy sister discover her true self, Amanda. What kind of style werw you thinking?"

Amanda smiles over her shoulder at you. You recognize that smile; it makes you shudder in fear. It's the same smile she had when she told your mother about her "stumbling across" the encrypted folder of BDSM porn she had planted on your laptop, the smile that said, I'm about to fuck you, and it's gonna hurt.

"Well," she drawls, drawing out the "l" sound, "she's already proven she's a slut, so slutty. High-end slutty, of course; I know we won't find the kind of cheap crap she really DESERVES in your shop."

The deeply tanned blonde is silent for a long moment before saying, "I would hope you'd understand that. So: sissy slut, then? Lots of thongs, g-strings, half-cup and cupless bras, but also lots of pink and white and lace and frills?"

"Perfect!" Amanda fairly shouts, "You read my mind again."

"And will she be needing a gaff?"

"Naw," Alex interrupts Amanda, who already had her mouth open to answer, "We want her useless sissy clit on display so she NEVER forgets she used to be a free, nominal male."

"Fit her for one," Katrina states from behind you. When Alex turns to glare at her, she simply says, "Hey, she might have to pass someplace, some time."

Imogen nods. "And inserts?"

"Oh, yes," Amanda says, turning back to you and giving you a smile that could only be called malicious, "Just A-cups ... for now. We wouldn't want to panic her or make her new status TOO obvious ... yet."