Sissy’s Interlude -- Pt 6
Mistress had turned me over to a lady at the lingerie store. I didn’t know how to react. Part of me was mortified, part of me burning from embarrassment, and part of me was reveling in this chance that I had always dreamed of.
The people who were in the store weren’t really paying attention to me, which was a relief. I could only imagine the panic if someone realized that a man was in here.
I tried to relax, I really did. I couldn’t stop shaking in fear of discovery. I was nervous and I couldn’t get my jewelry off.
“Honey, calm down. It’s okay, no one here is going to hurt you at all. You are a customer and that removes half the problem from the clerks. The rest don’t care. Just as most men don’t look at each other in the shower, most girls don’t look at each other when changing.”
She showed me to a changing area that was fairly private and had me strip. She looked a bit disappointed when she saw the hair still on my body, but she measured me anyway. Jamie was really professional in that she didn’t ask the obvious questions.
Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. “So how do you know Mistress?” I asked.
Jamie was quiet for a few moments while she considered my question. “I used to be a client of hers.”
I didn’t continue the questioning given what Mistress’ specialty was. I filled in some blanks with what I knew and made some assumptions. I hate making assumptions and so I spent a bit looking at Jamie closely. If she had been born a male, I couldn’t tell.
She caught me examining her. “The surgeons did a good job, didn’t they? They better have given how much I spent going to them.” She continued measuring me while she talked. She continued to talk without prompting. “I started going to Mistress a long time ago. I had always felt better in skirts, but I always had to sneak wearing them. That set up associations with feeling ashamed and so on.
“I heard through the grapevine that Mistress did the feminization of girly boys, and I wound up going to her to find out what it was like to actually be girled up properly, and boy did I learn. I worked really hard to overcome the shame associated with my dresses and the fear that went with it too. I finally managed to find some people in the BDSM community who did transsexual transformations and I stopped going to Mistress at that point. But she knows me, I know her and she knows I can be discreet as she needs to be.
“So, while we try things on, tell me about you.”
Over the next hour while I tried on bras, panties, girdles, corsets, waist nippers and other foundation garments, I shared what had been happening to me with Jamie. There wasn’t a lot to share since I was just starting on this journey, but what there was I told. She helped me to define what was relevant and what wasn’t in my life in regards to my wanting to be girl.
“It’s good that you are finally starting to define what you want and who you want to be,” she said at one point, “but realize one basic fact; you will be happier being who you are rather than who you think you should be. It took me four years to realize that, and many psychologists and therapists. It was a long, painful journey for me. But when I got to the end and finally decided to be myself, my true self, it was such a load off my mind.
“Now, tell me what you think of this padded girdle. It gives you actual hips and a butt.” She was very good at continuing on with the sales while dispensing advice.
When we finished getting the basics out of the way, Mistress brought over several dresses and blouse and skirt combos. “Why are there no pants or casual outfits?”
“I don’t want you confusing being a girl with the clothes. Men wear pants. Women may have pants on, but most crossdressers who are in pants walk like they are male, mainly because of the way the pants feel on them. I want to constantly remind you of who you are and what you are choosing to be while with me.”
I changed into a different outfit, a nice large peasant blouse and a broomstick skirt. My heels went well with it and we left there to continue through the mall. I made sure to get Jamie’s number. I gave her mine, but had to warn her about calling me. She promised to let me initiate contact with her.
We visited a lot of stores that day. After the specialty shop with Jamie, Mistress and I went to a jewelry store for things like clip on earrings, necklaces, bracelets and various necessities of fashion. Then we wound up in a luggage shop to pick out some huge “mom bags” for all my stuff. I only allowed one of those to be purchased however, since they were almost prohibitively expensive. I ask you, why in the world does a store charge $250 for a bag that probably cost $15 to make and sell?
But Mistress wouldn’t let me get away with just that. We went to a shoe store where soon four pairs of shoes wound up being bought. Two bags, smaller this time, were added to the mixture.
“Mistress, we just got this bag,” I said waving at the huge handbag. “Why do I need more purses?”
“Sissy, that big handbag is for every day. It is for casual and out and about running errands. It is for carrying your wallet, makeup, tissues, papers, checkbook, cell phone, a brick, mace, rubber chicken, the scissors for the kids, pen, paper, crayons and more. It’s the equivalent of your utility bag. These little purses match the shoes we just got you. The shoes and these purses are for going out on dates, to the clubs and so on. No one expects you to carry that huge bag-of-all-haulage, so you have smaller bags for your wallet, some money, credit cards and a little makeup. That’s what you take to a restaurant or a bar. Those Mom-bags you keep for daily use.”
When she explained it that way, I could see the sense of it. Who would want to take a Battleship up a delta when a Zodiac would do that much better. I nodded my understanding and let her direct me.
I had been trying to keep a running tally of our expenses, but I failed. I knew that we had spent somewhere near $1200 by the end of the day. Several sets of makeup, five dresses, six skirts and four blouses. One suit. Five pairs of shoes and three handbags. Scarfs, earrings, bracelets, hose, a penior and nightgown, panties, girdles, a corset, bras and everything a new woman needed. I felt as though I were picking out my trousseau by the end of it all.
I gradually relaxed over the day. Things didn’t blow up like I thought they would. I kept noticing others looking at me and it made me nervous, but Mistress kept blowing it off. She told me not to pay attention that mostly it was jealousy on the women’s parts and wondering about their chances on the men’s.
I had to admit, once I had good makeup on and I saw myself in a mirror, I did wonder if she would be willing to sleep with me. Then I blushed as I realized what I just thought.
Not everything went well, however.
We were on our way out of the mall when I spotted a darling little halter dress in a boutique window. I stopped to admire it and before I had thought about it much, Mistress had dragged me inside to try it on.
The ambiance was not the best, dark interior, pounding rock music, skimpy clothes and ultra chic cutting edge fashion. Racks and racks of body jewelry were on display on the counter. When did barbells come into fashion?
Mistress went over to the wall and started looking through the displays of clothes. She picked out two different dresses in my size and a pair of knee high boots in my size off the discount area. She shooed me into the dressing area to try the clothes on and waited.
I came out a few minutes later and showed her the outfit. I have to say I was smokin’ hot. A different hair style, one of the small handbags I had, some of the accessories and I would be a babe.
Mistress helped me out with the fitting and the various accoutrements. Once the boots were on, I was slightly taller than her and if it weren’t for my face, I’d look really good. But that would come another time.
Mistress complimented me and had me change back into my “gypsy garb” as she called it and took the clothes and boots up to the counter.
I joined her. It must have been a slow day because the store was empty. Just the five people who worked there, Mistress and I. The manager started ringing up the clothes and she was smiling. I was mortified to see $238.51 come up as the total.
The next few seconds are burned into my memory.
The music broke for a change in songs. I was relieved because I started getting a headache from the heavy bass and drum beats.
Everyone clearly heard in the silence of the store the word “Faggot.”
It resounded around the store. Mistress’ head whipped around and could not tell who had said it. The acoustics were such that those standing at the counter heard the speech from anywhere in the store. Her head whipped around while she tried to find the source of the epithet.
I froze. I couldn’t move. My worst fears were realized and the blood had turned into icewater in my body. I flushed and then I turned cold. My breath came in short gasps. I couldn’t think.
I felt a hand grab mine and I was nearly dragged out of the store. I was still stunned and I don’t remember hearing anything, just a roaring in my ears.
When I next found the capacity to look around me, we were in Mistress’ car and nearly to her home. I still couldn’t think.
When I heard whomever said that word in the store, I knew what the reaction in Sissy’s head would be. I knew that she would be devastated and that we had to get out of there fast.
I looked around knowing that I wouldn’t find the person, and noticing that it was only the staff here, that the customers had slowly drifted out while we had been shopping.
The manager look pole-axed. As well she should, there was no excuse for that kind of derogatory term to be used, especially with a customer.
I had started to get out my regular Visa card to pay for everything, but under cover of the looking around, I got out my Gold MasterCard instead. I looked back at the Manager and slowly put the MasterCard back into my wallet.
“Sissy, come on. We’re leaving. There is no excuse for this and I won’t shop someplace where you aren’t welcome.” I made sure the Manager saw the gold before I slid it back into the little slot in my wallet, then snapping the wallet closed.
The Manager tried to stop us. She started babbling. She knew that she had just lost a HUGE sale, one that could pay for the expenses of the shop for all of today. This was going to be a major blow to her bottom line, and someone was getting in massive trouble for this.
The other sales associates tried to stop me as I neared the door, my blood boiling and Sissy’s wrist firmly in my had. I had a lot of experience of holding wrists and keeping hold of them when the captured didn’t want to be in that position, but Sissy didn’t resist at all. She was too stunned.
I shot a withering glare at the associate who was trying to impede my egress; she wisely moved out of my way.
The Manager finally got her head together and charged after me. But I had a good head start and she had to run on her very fashionable stiletto heels until she caught me three stores down.
I let her babble an apology for a bit and I finally cut her off. “It’s obvious that your staff doesn’t see things your way, and in my experience the staff reflects the management. If this is how your store deals with customers who don’t fit the norm, then you don’t need my business. It’s not like I couldn’t get everything that was on that counter at other locations, in some cases for less money than you were charging. Your store was convenient, it happened to be there, nothing more.”
I had carefully planned those words as I stormed out. I knew that they would hurt, and I meant for them to. I had no tolerance for people like that and I intended to make that fact clear.
One of the other Associates came charging up behind, a bag in her hands. The manager all but snatched it from her and practically shoved it into my free hand, babbling about how sorry she was and that the situation would be taken care of and would I please reconsider coming back and to please take this as her way of profoundly apologizing for that gaffe….
I turned and stalked off without saying another word to her. The bag was firmly in my hand and it would remain there until we were out of the mall. Let her write off nearly $250 in merchandise, one of those little bitches was losing their job, and if none of them confessed, they would all probably be fired. Perhaps at some future date they would remember this incident and remember to treat a customer with more courtesy, no matter what their personal feelings were.
By the time we made the second set of traffic lights as we were leaving the mall, I had calmed down. I was shaking in reaction and probably from the adrenaline in my system. But right now I had to deal with Sissy and how she was going to react to this.
Damn, a perfectly lovely day ruined by one idiot. I had to think of what to do now.
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