A Great Day

Looking back on your life, you couldn't think of another day that had gone so well. With the exception of having to get through the day wearing a pair of women's stockings, it was like you were living in a dream. Not only had the CEO put you in charge of a project that was the best thing to hit your firm in, well, ever, but the rest of the company had begun treating you different. Better.

Amber, for example, had never shown any interest in you before. Then, after the meeting where you'd received your new position, she had lured you into a storage room and given you the best blow job of your life. When your pants were around your ankles, she never even mentioned your stockings, so enamored she was with your erection. Where she had gained this affection for you, you had no idea. You weren't even sure, previous to your encounter in the storage room, that she was into guys.

The rest of the staff, too, spent the rest of the day fawning over you. Some of it you credited to your new position, people jockeying to gain your favour. Not all of it, though. Men who had been casual acquaintances, ones who worked in departments unaffected by your new job, made a point to congratulate you, talk about how much you deserved it (and more). Women popped over to your cubical, flirted, giggled at your jokes, complimented you on your looks. It was as if someone had switched a "like-ability" switch on in your life and the whole company was affected.

By the time you got home, two beautiful women (both married women!) had slipped you their phone numbers, the CFO stopped by to tell you that you'd be receiving an extra two weeks of vacation a year, and the receptionist at the front offered to come home with you since "the home of every big strong man needs a woman's touch" (her words, not yours).

It was your lucky day.

At home, the first thing you did was change into casual clothes, happy for the opportunity to remove the stockings from your feet. You checked your wardrobe to see the collection of stockings that had appeared this morning, only to find your old socks had returned. Whoever had pranked you by replacing your socks with women's stockings must have had second thoughts. Your good luck was continuing, you thought to yourself with a smile.

Sweat pants, sports socks, t-shirt. You warmed up leftovers in the microwave, grabbed a couple beers, and spent the evening vegging out in front of the television. Eventually your eyes began to get heavy, and you made your way to your bedroom. Soon after your head hit the pillow, you succumbed to the call of a deep, dreamless sleep.

The sound of your alarm clock woke you the next morning was a welcome sound. The sunlight pouring in, compared to the day before, felt invigorating. A smile formed on your face as you sat up and swung your feet over the edge of the bed. Your day had gone so great the day before that you couldn't wait to see what this day held.

Breakfast. A shower. A shave. Yessir, today was going to be a great day. You took in your naked reflection as you brushed your teeth. Today you would sink your teeth into the Jasper Falls file, assemble a great team, and get to work. In the meantime, maybe you'd sink something else into Amber...

Back in your room, you opened your wardrobe. You had no idea how your socks had been switched out the day before, but you were glad that you wouldn't have to worry about it today. You picked a blue dress shirt, black pants, a black tie, and...

You looked in the sock drawer again only to have your heart drop. Stockings. Again. The night before they had been socks! Now the stockings had returned! Sheer black stockings! White knee-high stockings! Fishnet stockings! Pantyhose! Pink! Red! Baby blue! Knee-high! Full-length! Ankle-length! Every kind of stockings you could imagine!

You ran to the laundry hamper that held the sports socks you had worn the night before, only to discover that it no longer held sports socks. Instead, resting on top of an old sweatshirt, was a pair of thigh-high fishnet stockings with a black lace top.

"What the fuck?" you muttered in disbelief. Maybe this wasn't a prank. Maybe there was more to this. Maybe the stories about your wardrobe being magic were true...

You didn't have time for such speculation, you had to get to work. The day before you had worn stockings and it hadn't hurt you in the least. Returning to the wardrobe, you grabbed a pair of black thigh-high stockings with three bands of elastic on top. You hoped that the elastic would hold the pair up, while the colour would once again fool anyone who would look at your ankles.

Then, sliding open the drawer that held your boxer shorts, you again felt your heart drop.

Panties.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK." you shouted.

French cut. Thongs. G-strings. C-strings. Brazilian. Open crotch. And more!

Every type of panties. Every colour under the rainbow. If someone was messing with you, they had taken it to a new level. You stared at the wardrobe, feeling nervous. Had the stories been true? Was it actually the wardrobe?

You had ****. Time was ticking, and you had to be at the office early to show that you were up to your new job. Grabbing a pair of black pinstriped boyshorts, you got dressed, pushing out of your mind what you were wearing under your pants. It didn't really matter, anyway. Nobody could see your underwear unless you showed them. And besides, you had a job to do.