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................ --