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Archive-name: Changes/timmy01.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Petticoated Male





   Timmy felt so tiny litterly being dragged by his 6'6" tall aunt 

toward the ornate entrance of one of the many exclusive shops that

lined the most fashionable thoroughfare in town. Timmy's consternation

resulted from the fact that it was a shop for little girls.

   Timmy was extrtemely small for his age. Even though he was almost 

23 years old, he only wieghed about 105 pounds and stood only 5'2" tall.

The last time that he had been in a little girls clothing store, almost

all of the little girls he saw in the store were taller and bigger 

than he.   

   When he hesitated at the entrance, his mammoth aunt took a firm grip 

on his arm, and looked down on him saying, "Come along, Timmy!"

   "But, Aunty, this is a little girl's store; why do you want me to 

go in there?"

   "Come now, Timmy. No fussing, please." A helpless Timmy found

himself being propelled abruptly into this delicately scented

haven of femininity. A smartly dressed extremely tall older lady 

hurried forward to meet them. Timmy felt so tiny standing between 

these gigantic Amazons. He also felt that all the little girls

that were milling around in the store were gazing on him in disapprov-

al of his intrusion. Had he not been in the firm grip of his

powerful aunt, he would have fled.

   "Ah, good morning, Mrs. Smythe," the tall woman said to his aunt. 

"I presume this is the little person you spoke to me about."

   "My but your a tiny little thing," she said as she bent over so

her face was even with his. 

    Her eyes coursed over his body, giving him the feeling that 

he was completely nude. "He appears to be a most suitable subject. I

believe you'll be pleased with the result." She indicated the

rear of the store. "This way, please."

   "Why are we going back there?" Timmy inquired as Madame led the

way.

   "Shush! You will soon learn," his aunt said. "Just come along,

and no nonsense!" Obviously his aunt meant business.

   On the way they passed a pretty young clerk who smiled curiously

at Timmy. Madame said, over her shoulder, "You will please join

us, Mary." The clerk fell in behind them. They arrived at a small

corridor with closed doors on either side. Madame opened one and

bade them enter.

   "Please, Aunty, why do I have to go in there?" She merely shoved

him inside, and he found himself in the delicately scented

atmosphere of a fitting room. He turned in dismay as he heard the

click of a key turning in the lock. Obviously, he was at the

mercy of two Amazonic females.

   As from afar, her heard Madame exclaim, in an authoritative tone,

"Young man, please start removing your clothing!"

   "Do what?" he screamed at her. "Are you out of your mind? I'll do

nothing of the kind! The very idea...!"

   Madame sighed, "Very well, then. Mary, you know what to do..."

Before Timmy was quite aware of her intentions, Mary had seized

the collar of his jacket and pulled it down to pinion his arms

tightly. In a flash, Madame reached out and unbuckled his belt

and trouser fastenings.

   As his trousers slithered down to his ankles, Timmy's voice took

on a new note of hysteria. "No, no! Please don't do this shameful

thing to me," he cried, but to no avail, for his underpants

followed the path his trousers had taken. In short order, Madame

and Mary had reduced him to a state of crimson nudity.

   Madame surveyed his mortified person in the manner of one with

vast experience in such matters. "He really does have a very

suitable figure, Mrs. Smythe. A nicely fitted corset will simply

do wonders for it!"

   "A corset!" Timmy exclaimed in disbelief.

   His expression sent peals of laughter reverberating through the

room. Smiling, his aunt retorted, "Corsets will be quite essen-

tial to your new life, Timmy dear, for I've every intention of

transforming you in my demure little niece!" Her words were like

a bombshell to Timmy. He sank to his knees before her pleading

that she not do this to him. "Not another word!" she replied.

"Get to your feet this instant!"

   Timmy stood up, his shoulder slumped in hopelessness, as Madame

bade Mary to "fetch the things I gathered together for our Miss

Timmy." Mary left in a flutter of skirts.

   After a gentle knock, the door opened and Mary came in, her arms

laden with an array of lavish frilled silken lingerie, which she

placed on a chair. One garment in particular sent chills down

Timmy's spine - a wasp-waisted pink satin corset elegantly

adorned with delicate lace and pert baby-blue ribbon bows. Mary

handed it to Madame, who drew it about Timmy's waist and began

the process of lacing him down to the last breathless inch, much

to his discomfort.

   "Oh, no... no! You can't do this awful thing to me... Say it's

only a joke!"

   His tormentors found his protests quite amusing and burst into

fresh peals of hilarity. He knew now that he could expect no

mercy from them and more or less resigned himself to the indigni-

ties to come.

   At a signal from Madame, Mary selected a pair of elaborately

lace-and-ribbon frilled little girl panties of finest pink silk 

and held them out for Timmy to step into. Timmy looked up at 

his aunt as the sales girl brushed the silken panties across his small

chest. 

   "These are the smallest little girl's panties I could find in

the store, there a girls size 8, but I think they will fit our 

tiny man just perfect." Mary said. Slowly she raised the pink silk

panties up his skinny legs. The clinging silk caressed his limbs, 

as she carefuly fit them around his small hips. 

    "A perfect fit," she exclamed as she pinched his little penis

between her thumb and first finger through the soft silk of the

pretty little girl panties. 

   "They're certainly becoming to him, aren't they?" Madame comment-

ed with a knowing smile, and Mary and his aunt nodded their

approval.

   "They are not! I don't want to wear them!" Timmy exclaimed. "I

want my own trousers back!"

   In feigned surprise, his aunt retorted, "But Timmy darling, all

little girls adore their pretty panties." Timmy's protests that

he wasn't a little girl and didn't want to be one were to no

avail.

   Mary gathered up three sweetly frilled petticoats that were

attached to a common waistband. The outer layer was of stiff,

rustling taffeta, its hem deeply frilled with lavish lace; the

next layer was of flounced net; and beneath it was more rustling

taffeta. How excitingly the petticoats frou-froued as Mary

settled them down over Timmy's head and shoulders. She took many

more pains than necessary in adjusting them around his waist,

creating a loudly sibilant swishing.

   "How perfectly sweet!" his aunt remarked. "Timmy will just adore

wearing them, won't you, dear?"

   Timmy said nothing, knowing it would do no good to protest. He

averted his eyes as Mary enveloped him in the folds of a dainty

pink chiffon dress that she tugged down in place and buttoned up

the back. The skirt flared prettily out over the petticoats and

Mary made them swish from side to side.

   Long stockings were decided upon, and as Mary knelt to draw their

gossamer beauty up his small but shapely legs, her hands seemed more

intimate than necessary. Madame had taken his aunt out into the

salon to select an appropriate hairpiece, and he had been told

that he would be marched out in front of the clerks and customers

in the salon if he made any fuss while alone with Mary.

   As Mary affixed a pair of frilled garters to his stocking tops,

she smiled up at him. "You do make a beautiful girl, Miss Timmy.

I just love dressing up little boys, and it's a special pleasure

when they're as cute as you are." Somehow, Mary seemed to be

trying to comfort him in a friendly way.

   But whatever solace she gave him disappeared when his aunt and

Madame returned. "Darling, look what a lovely hairpiece I've

found for you!" his aunt cried, fitting it to his head. "I

declare, it completely changes your appearance." Timmy looked in

the mirror and realized that the beautiful girl looking back was

him! The change was positively staggering. Madame made a few

adjustments, and he was led toward the door.

   "Oh, Aunty, please don't make me go out there. Everybody will

laugh at me, and I'll die of shame. I know I will."

   His aunt adjusted his skirts and patted his hand. "Nonsense,

dear, no one will have the slightest suspicion that you are not a

smartly dressed 10 year old girl." Timmy was humiliated. He was 

22 years old and a junior at college, but his aunt had made him into

a 10 year old little girl. She propelled him rustlingly 

out the door, his cheeks crimson and his eyes cast down. In the 

salon, they passed a customer, who remarked on what a sweet 

little girl he was.

   They moved over to a long rack on which smartly styled coats were

hanging, and after several trials, a lovely pink cashmere was

selected, its fitted waist clinging to Timmy's nipped-in waist-

line and its flare skirt flowing out over his rustling skirts. A

matching hat, wide-brimmed with a ribbon dangling at the rear, in

schoolgirl style completed Timmy's street outfit, and they

started for the door, Madame accompanying them part way...

   "You have made a very wise decision," Madame said to his aunt.

"It would be a waste of his natural loveliness to allow him to

wear horrid, coarse trousers." His aunt beamed her approval,

while Timmy anxiously awaited their departure from the scene of

his demoralization.

   Once they joined the stream of pedestrians, Timmy had the dread

sensation that all eyes were directed toward him in the certainty

that he was a petticoated boy. Tugging at his aunt's hand, he

pleaded, "Can't we go home now, Aunty?"

   "Why Timmy," his aunt reproached him, "You wouldn't want to

deprive all these nice people of looking at such a daintily

dressed little girl as you, now, would you?"

   In fact, a number of people did stop to compliment his aunt on

how lovely her little companion was, so prettily dressed that way.

Timmy prayed that the earth itself would open up and swallow

him, and he implored his aunt to take him home and out of public

view.

   "Why, Timmy darling, you should be quite flattered to have

people say such nice, nice things about you. I'm really at a loss

to understand your attitude. But we're not going home, and that's

final!" The finality in her tone left no doubt in his mind, and

the sibilant rustling that accompanied his every step amplified

tenfold his nervous state and was a constant reminder of his new

status. He tried taking mincing steps, but the rustling still

remained. Moments later, he glanced furtively from half-lidded

eyes and his aunt remarked, "Isn't that Mrs. Jones and little

Alice coming our way? How nice!"

   Panic seized Timmy anew. Alice was a little 12 year old girl that

he had babysat for. What would she think to see him dressed in

these ridiculous girl's clothes? "Oh, please, Aunty, don't let

her see me like this! I could never face her again!"

   "Nonsense, Timmy, and do stop tugging at my hand!" Each moment

was a lifetime of horror for him as Alice and her mother ap-

proached. As the two women met and began making small talk,

Timmy kept her head lowered, then, taking a quick glance at

Alice, saw that she was studying him with a quizzical expression.

Perhaps... just perhaps... she would not recognize him!

   When Mrs. Jones inquired as to who "this lovely little person"

was, his aunt said, "This is my new niece, Jimmie."

   A perplexed expression came to Mrs. J's face and, Timmy's aunt

hastened to explain. "Beginning this very morning, I decided it

would be much more delightful to have a daintily frocked niece

fluttering about than a nephew who has been such a trial to me."

Timmy's heart pounded as this denouement and he could feel

Alice's eyes probing him.

   "Oh, Mommy, it's really Timmy dressed up as a girl. Oh, he's

cute, isn't he?" She bend down and tenderly kissed him on the cheek.

   Even though Alice was only 12 years old, she was a good 4" taller

and 30 pounds heavier than Timmy. Dressed as he was in little girl 

clothes, he felt so tiny and puny as he looked up into Alice's 

pretty blue eyes.

   "You shut up," he said, angrily. He was sorely tempted to belt her 

a good one.

   "That will be quite enough!" his aunt exclaimed. "One more word

and I'll lift your skirts and give you a spanking right here in

public!" Alice giggled; Mrs. Jones smiled in approval; and Timmy

shrank back, knowing full well that his big aunt was more than 

capable of carrying out her threat.

   Mrs. Jones relieved the tension somewhat by remarking, "Alice and

I were shopping for a new dress for her birthday party. Would you

like to join us? Perhaps Timmy would enjoy helping Alice make a

selection."

   His aunt nodded, and Alice exclaimed, "Oh, good, I'm sure Timmy

will be lots of help in choosing my new dress." She took his hand

in hers and propelled him along at her side. Each step produced

the telltale rustling of taffeta against silk, and Alice couldn't

help but hear it. "Mommy, Timmy is wearing silk and taffeta

undies. Isn't that lovely? I'd just love to see them!"

   "Alice, don't tease me," Timmy begged, as he looked up into her

inocent face with tears in his eyes.

   Her mood softening, Alice squeezed his hand affectionately, as

they walked side by side in the mall. She kept looking down at him,

not beleaving how tiny and pretty he looked as he walked beside her.

   "Mommy," Alice said. "Timmy and I will catch up in a minute. I want

to tell him something."

   "OK, Dear, her mother said. "but don't be too long."

    Alace sat down on one of the benches in the mall and motioned

for Timmy to sit on her lab. Timmy looked around in embarrassment,

but when he saw that no one was looking he climbed up on her silken

lap. Timmy had to admit that it felt very good to sit on this 12 year 

old little girl's lap.

She whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry I teased you, Timmy. I can 

imagine how you must feel." He flashed a wan smile up at her for 

this small consolation. "Try to make the best of it, Timmy. If it's 

any help, let me say that I like you better this way and that you are

very lovely." Coming from Alice, this somehow made him a little

more comfortable than before.

   "Now jump down, Timmy," she said. "Let's have fun and go shopping.

Her words felt good to Timmy as he slid off her lap and kissed her on the

cheek. She stood up and straightened out her pretty dress. Timmy looked 

up into her eyes as she again grabbed his small hand and started walking

to the little girl's clothing store. He must have looked so cute; just

like Alice's little sister as they walked hand in hand.  

   As they entered a fashionable shop for girls, Alice let go of

Timmy's hand to go over to a rack from which hung a gay assort-

ment of party dresses from satin hangers. "Oh, Timmy, aren't

they perfectly darling?" she exclaimed; Timmy nodded and stood

sheepishly by as Alice examined the dresses, unable to make up

her mind. Finally, several were selected, and the clerk led them

into the fitting room so that Alice might try them on.

   Once inside the cubicle, Alice quickly removed her hat and coat

and Mrs. Jones helped her out of her dress. In turn, his aunt

insisted that he remove his coat, although he professed to be

quite comfortable. "Oh, Timmy, what a pretty dress you are

wearing," Alice cried in genuine delight. In spite of himself,

Timmy felt flattered and was almost enjoying the new intimacy he

was sharing with Alice, who was now clad in a cute bra and sheet

half-slip, her frilly panties showing through.

   "Timmy's dress is so becoming to her, " Mrs. Jones said, empha-

sizing the feminine pronoun. "Perhaps Timmy would like to try on

some of these dresses"? Even though Alice's dresses would look 

foolish on Timmy because of there larger size, his aunt nodded 

her approval.

   "Then you could be my little sister!" Alice exclaimed. The clerk

glanced at Timmy, a quizzical expression on her face. Has she

guessed that he was a petticoated boy? His mind was in a turmoil

as his aunt started to unbutton his dress. Alice's eyes opened

wide when she spied his little corset, which forced his flesh

upward to create a convincing little bosom, half-hidden in a

froth of dainty lace.

   "How delightful!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed, "I've been trying to

convince Alice that she should wear a corset to improve her

figure." The clerk was busy fitting a dress to Alice, as Timmy's

aunt reached out and lifted his little petticoats to expose his

frilled panties. "How sweet!" commented Mrs. Jones, as Timmy

frantically tried to press his skirts down, creating an exciting

frou-frou.

   "Why, darling," his aunt admonished, "It is not immodest for a

girl to show off her pretty undies to ladies."

   A few moments later, Alice suggested that Timmy attend her

birthday party. His aunt accepted the invitation for him and,

sensing his reluctance, said, "Don't be shy, darling. Of course

you'll go and we can buy you a pretty new dress to wear for the

occasion."

   "Oh, Timmy," Alice cried, "we'll have a wonderful time!" But

Timmy's expression hinted that he believed otherwise. As the

clerk assisted Alice in trying on the dresses, his aunt also

arrayed Timmy in several of them. He looked so silly in the giant

sized little girl dresses that fit the 12 year old Alice so perfectly.

    Dressed only in her bra, half-slip and panties, Alice walked up to 

the tiny college student and grabbed him around his tiny waist and held

him up off the floor as she kissed him on the cheek. 

    "Make Alice put me down, Auntie," Timmy screamed as he dangled off the

changing room floor.

    "Oh Timmy," Alice cooed, your such a baby." She then set him down, 

kissed him on the forehaed and continued to try on her little girl

party dresses. Timmy just stood there in his pretty undies. 

   Timmy and Alice were left alone briefly in the room while Mrs.

Jones and his aunt went out into the salon with the clerk to sign

for their purchases. Alice took this opportunity to hug Timmy to

her. "Don't be mad at me, Timmy for inviting you to my party.

It's just that it would be wonderful to have you there, dressed

so prettily, so we can be sisters." With her warm, scantily clad

body pressed to his, his feelings toward her were far more than

sisterly. But he agreed to try and enjoy her party, although he

had grave doubts about such a mad venture. Anyway, his aunt

wouldn't expect him to remain in petticoats for very long... or

would she?

   "Goodbyes" were said at the front door of the shop, Mrs. Jones

and Alice going one way, Timmy and his aunt, the other.

   "Now, can't we go home?" Timmy asked, plaintively as he looked up

at his tall aunt.

   "Not yet, dear. We have one more purchase to make this afternoon.

Can you guess what it is?"

   "No, Aunty," he answered, but he had an idea it wouldn't be

baseball equipment.

   "It's a dear, sweet little nightie for you to wear to bed to-

night!" Timmy opened his mouth to say something, but he was

silenced by a wave of her hand. Once again, her felt all eyes

upon him as they traipsed along the sidewalk.

   They entered another girl's shop, moving directly to a glass

showcase in which were displayed several dainty items of linge-

rie. The pretty clerk behind the counter smiled and asked polite-

ly if she could be of any assistance to them.

   "I'd like to see something special in lingerie for my niece." She

smiled down at Timmy.

   "Of course, Madame! Such a very lovely little girl does deserve

something specially frilly." Timmy imagined that there was a

trace of sarcasm, directed at him, in her voice. "What size does

she wear, Madame?" On being told a girls size 8, the clerk turned to

box-lined shelves behind her, glanced over the labels, then took

a box from the shelf, placing it on the counter. From rustling

folds of white tissue, she extracted an extravagantly frilled,

transparent, pink chiffon nightie and held it up, remarking that

it was a recent import from Paris.

   "It's very nice, but I'd like to see several others before I make

my choice," his aunt replied. The contents of several more

exotic-looking boxes were displayed, and his aunt purchased three

dainty bits of feminine finery. "Don't you just adore this,

Timmy dear?" she cried as she held a matching peignoir-and-gown

set up before him.

   "I guess so," he answered meekly. Then, as his aunt instructed

the clerk to wrap the packages while they "browsed around,"

Timmy again begged her to take him home. His feet were unused to

the restriction of girl's shoes and he felt a growing urge to

answer a call of nature.

   "Please do stop your fussing, Timmy. We shall return home when I

am good and ready to do so!" she exclaimed. "You'll need a few

other items of lingerie as well as pairs of stockings and gloves,

so we must make a few more purchases before we leave."

   They wandered around the establishment, Timmy growing more

physically uncomfortable and becoming more certain that the

clerks were on to him and were whispering among themselves. His

aunt made more purchases, and finally Timmy could wait no longer

to tell her of his dire condition; "Aunty, I... I... have to go

to the bathroom."

   "Can't you wait till we get home?" He shook his head vigorously.

"Very well, then, come along with me!" She marched Timmy to the

door of the powder room.

   "But, Aunty, this is the ladies' room!"

   "Of course it is, you silly goose. Where else did you expect me

to take you?"

   A moment later he found himself in the scented privacy of the

powder room. Timmy cast furtive eyes around and crimsoned as he

spied a pretty girl not more than 13 years old with her petticoats 

drawn up around her waist, adjusting her panties. Good heavens! 

What if she were to suspect the truth? He could already hear her 

screams ringing in his ears. However, she nonchalantly dropped her 

skirts, pressed them down, took a quick glance into the vanity mirror, 

patted a stray hair back into place, smiled at him then left the room.

Timmy sighed audibly with relief.

   His respite was short-lived, for the mechanics of the problem at

hand were much more complex than in his previous experience. His

overcoat was removed and hung up, and his aunt bade him raise his

petticoats.

   "Oh, please, Aunty, not out here. Can't we go in there, into one

of the cubicles?" he pleaded.

   "No, Timmy, please do as I ask this minute!" Crimson-faced once

more, he started to raise his skirts, the taffeta rustling

throughout the small room, when a small girl and her mother

entered.

   "Oh, Mama, look at the pretty panties that girl is wearing!"

   "Shush, dear! It's bad manners to make remarks like that." She

smiled at Timmy as if in apology.

   Timmy nearly fainted as he hurriedly sought refuge in one of the

cubicles, his aunt close behind him. His panties were hurriedly

drawn down, and she instructed him to use the toilet as a girl.

   "You may drop your skirts now, Timmy," she instructed as they

emerged from the cubicle. They fluttered down around his knees

with a sibilant swish. "Shake them out, my dear, so there'll be

no wrinkles." There was a delightful frou-frou as he carried out

her request. Was there to be no end to the indignities that would

be heaped upon him?

   Before they took their departure from the powder room, his aunt

insisted that he stop before the floor-length mirror to view

himself. "Now, dear, don't you agree that your dresses and frill-

ies are much more becoming to you than those horrid coarse

trousers?"

   "Oh, please, don't say such awful things, Aunty," he pleaded. But

secretly, deep down in his subconscious, a small part of him was

beginning to agree with her. Somehow, he was bearing up better,

now, under the yoke of femininity.

   "You'll change your mind about your life as a girl before I've

finished with you. Of that you can be certain." His shoulders

slumped in hopelessness as she helped him into his coat.

   They stopped by the wrapping desk to retrieve their packages, and

then they took their departure. Much to Timmy's relief, they

headed for home.



to be continued................



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