SpyWare IV

SpyWare IV
By NAMB

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Disclaimer: This story mentions a discussion board known as FemNet. There are several domains in cyberspace with this name as part of their name (It's also for sale). The FemNet discussion board in this story is totally fictitious and has no connection whatsoever with any real domain, site or discussion board.

Spyware IV

Just what did my mom and aunt mean by my "feminization aspect?" What did "Doctor GeekGirl" tell them?

I was already uncomfortable just being in a store with so much "girl stuff" in it. I had been stripped, examined, masturbated and caged. How much more can they do to me?

"Come this way, Steven," mom commanded. She led me towards a sales clerk.

The woman smiled at her as she approached. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for something like this, only in a larger size," mom said taking the nightgown from Sarah and showing it for the woman.

The woman looked perplexed, "That seems the right size for your young lady," she said.

"Oh, I'm not looking for something for a young lady," mom said. It was enough. The woman got the idea. Suddenly, so did I.

The woman blushed, "OH!" was all she said for a couple of moments. "Um, let me call Denise. She knows more about this kind of thing than I do."

"We've already met her. Yes, please do call her. I think she'll know exactly what we need."

We were soon joined by Denise. I was hoping I would never see this woman again. Just seeing her made me aware of the prison in which my penis was an inmate.

"I think we'll need to look in our tall section. He's too slender for our plus sizes. Follow me."

That's all I wanted to do: march back and forth across the store. I wanted out of this place in the worst way. I am sure that there wasn't a woman in the place who hadn't noticed me by now.

Denise stopped in front of a rack. "Step up," she said motioning to me. She rummaged through the rack and selected some sort of a nightgown. I had no idea whether it was a negligee, penoire, baby doll or Batman Suit. Women have so many names for fancy nightwear.

She approached me with the garment, and I stepped back. My mom pushed me from behind, and I was hemmed in on either side by my cousin and my aunt.

"Here, let's see how this looks," she said holding the nightgown up to my body. I tried to look away, but that only made matters worse. My eyes settled on some of the other customers who were now staring in my direction drawn by the minor commotion of my struggle. A woman and what was apparently her daughter, a girl of about my age, were whispering back and forth. The woman had a knowing smile; the girl an evil grin.

Denise asked another sales clerk who came over to watch. "What do you think?"

"It's adorable. That's one of those crotchless models, isn't it? Is he going to wear it with or without the panties?"

"It doesn't matter. He's not going to be able to make use of that feature."

"Oh you devil. You wrapped up another one? How do you do that?"

"It simple, you take the cage, put it over his penis..."

"No, I mean why do you always get the young hung stud?"

"You just have to learn how to spot them. You know: more than one woman, one looking very nervous, an even more nervous looking teenaged male ..."

Meanwhile I was being summarily ignored as if I were no more than one of the many mannequins posing throughout the store. While the local group were distracted by this conversation, other women and girls were making their way towards us like sharks scenting blood in the water.

As bad as my humiliation was in the back room was, this was in some ways worse. There, at least, I was among women I knew. Here, I was on public display. Some of the shoppers were even close enough to hear the conversation.

Mom finally came into the conversation, "It looks great. I can't wait to see him in it. Can you find his size in pink? I'd like him to match his cousin's."

Denise went through the rack again and came up with the appropriate garment.

Mom thanked Denise and as we were about a half aisle away, she nearly shouted, "We have a sale on panties his size on aisle 3. I suggest full cut for when he's caged, and bikini style for when you let him out."

I wish I had a magic spell that could make me invisible. I felt very uncomfortable standing in aisle 3 while my mom, my aunt and my cousin looked at panties for me. "How about these?" Sarah said, holding up a particularly frilly set. "I think he would look cute in these."

Mom frowned, "Yes, they are pretty, but I think we need to go with something plain to start him out. I'm afraid that all that lace will rub up against his penis and chafe it."

"No it won't he got his thing in a cage. It will protect him!" Sarah protested.

"Shh!" my aunt said looking around. "Not so loud."

My mom put an end to the conversation by temporizing, "I think we'll go with the plain ones for now and work our way up to the fancy stuff later."

I am sure it was probably only a matter of 5 minutes for the women to find the "correct" panties for me. To me it seemed an eternity. In the end we wound up buying several pairs of each style of panties.

Mom handed me the nightgown and the panties and said, "OK, it's time to check out." She made me carry our purchases to the checkout stand and hand them to the clerk. The young woman just smiled at me, and said, "Did you find everything alright?" I think I muttered a, "yes." She held up each item and looked at it carefully as she rang it up and put it in a bag.

My only consolation in this whole affair was that besides my mother, aunt and cousin, nobody I knew saw me.

As we walked out to the car, my mom remarked to my aunt, "That's a great place. I'm sure glad GeekGirl told us about it. We have to come back here more often." I was hoping that "we" did not include me. Neither mom nor my aunt caught the glance my cousin gave me as they made this announcement.

It was with great relief that we finally got to the car. The relief didn't last long as when I sat down I could feel my cage pressing in on me. I had to grab it and move it to a more comfortable position. I hope I didn't have to do this every time I sat down.

Sarah was happy with her purchase, "Thank you for the pretty nightgown, mom. I can't wait to wear it. The girls are going to be so jealous at our next sleepover."

My mom noted, "Yes, we did pick up a lot of pretty things at the shop. Steven, do you like your nightgown. Don't you think it's pretty?"

I just muttered and said nothing.

"What was that dear? I couldn't hear you. Don't you like your new nightgown?"

"Mom," I finally said, "I'm not going to wear that or the panties you bought for me."

"Oh yes, you are. You'll do it out of gratitude for me. I bought you those nice clothes and you will wear them."

"I won't do it."

"Suit yourself. Either the pretty things go on, or something else won't come off."

"You're not going to make me wear them in front of anyone?" I asked.

"That depends. What good is having pretty clothes if people can't see you in them?"

"Aw mom!"

"Don't 'Aw mom' me. The topic is closed." Mom started the car, and we drove off.

-=o=-

Our time at the restaurant wasn't a lot of fun either. I was continuously aware of the device between my legs. It wasn't that uncomfortable, but it made its presence known constantly.

We had just ordered and I couldn't take it any more. My bladder was full and I needed to empty it. There was no way I was going to even ask about a bathroom in the lingerie store.

"Excuse me," I simply said as I tried to get up.

"Where are you going?" mom asked.

I just looked at her.

"Oh!" was all she said then added, "Make sure you use the right room." This remark was met with snickering and giggling from my aunt and my cousin.

"You know," my aunt said, "We really didn't think this through. I mean, how is he going to do it? We should have taught him."

"Well, I'm not going to take him to the women's room, and we can't go into the men's room, so he'll just have to figure it out on his own."

In the mean time, my bladder was not getting any emptier.

Before letting me go mom said, "Hand me my bag, dear." I was always leery about handling a woman's purse. She fished inside and pulled out a package of panties – she must have put it in her purse when she was putting the packages in the trunk. She took it out and handed it to me. "When you go in there, I want you to put these on." She seemed totally unconcerned that other people might have been watching.

I was frozen. Mom gave me a pat on the rear and said, "Now go!"

I stuffed the panties in my pocket and made my way to the men's room with an obvious bulge in the pocket from the folded up panties; they were still in the package. At least I was sure people would not mistake it for an erection.

Arriving at the men's room I felt a little bit funny. It was as if anyone in there would know of my secret – our secret or somehow detect the "cooties" from the lingerie shop. The door felt like it weighed 400 pounds as I pushed it open.

It took a strong mind to bypass the urinal and make my way to a stall. I always hated using the toilet in a men's room. It was bad enough to just "whip it out" and stand in the relative anonymousity of the urinal. Somehow a stall was even more demeaning. Although it's totally enclosed, you need to drop both pants and underwear making yourself more vulnerable than being totally being naked. At least while you are naked, you don't have something wrapped around your legs restricting you.

And I don't know what others think, but I always considered men who use stalls to be suspicious.

And now I had one more thing wrapped around a body part restricting me. It's the reason I was in the stall in the first place. There was no way I could stand and pee anymore. I assumed my position squatting over the seat and sat down with a loud clang. I had misjudged my seating and the device hit the bowl. I was certain that everyone in the place knew exactly what that sound meant.

I got myself seated properly and sat there. Now that it came to it, I just found it difficult to pee while sitting down. It was so unnatural. I was hoping that my lack of activity was taken by others as a bout with constipation.

My brain eventually figured out the commands to give my bladder to begin the emptying function. With my penis angled down by the device, I was not hitting the front of the bowl as should have happened had I been "hanging" at a normal angle. Instead the full force of the stream was aimed directly into the water making the unmistakable splashing sound of urine entering water.

I could just imagine what others were thinking, "What's he doing in there. Holding it?"

I was afraid to shake it dry and risk banging the side of the toilet again. I found that taking a couple of squares of toilet paper and pressing against the opening of the device did a decent enough job of getting out the final drops, even though it meant getting pee on my fingers. At least I could wash my hands.

Then it occurred to me. I had to take my shoes, pants and underwear completely off to get the panties on. I couldn't stand up to do it; that would be too obvious. As it was, suppose someone looked under the door?

Then there was another problem. If it were just the panties, I would leave behind no evidence. But the panties were in a package. I had to get them out, and on and then figure out what to do with the package.

It was quite a struggle but I did manage to swap the panties for my underwear. I decided to sit there a while to give the current occupants of the room time to vacate. I didn't want to face them.

I finally stood up and realized I now had my underwear in my hands. I folded it neatly and put it down the back of my pants. This pulled them tighter across my front, and made the cage more visible. I'm not too sure how visible it might have looked, but to me I might have been wearing a sign saying, "Look at me, I'm caged" and a big arrow pointing at my crotch.

I still had the package to deal with. In the end, not knowing what else to do, I left it on the seat of the toilet. I was sure that as soon as I opened the door to the stall, there would be a man standing there waiting to get in and he'd see it. Fortunately, there was only one other man in the bathroom and he was leaving as I was getting out. Still, I had to wonder what the next occupant of the stall would be thinking when he saw the panties package.

I left the men's room and ran into one of the men who was there when I walked in. He was paying his bill, but looked at me suspiciously.

By the time I got back to the table, our orders were already there.

"We were beginning to worry about you. Are you OK?" mom asked.

"Yeah mom, it just takes more time when ... you know."

"I do say we know. You're lucky. Try undoing a dress, a girdle, panty hose and then underwear. You better not be in a hurry."

I could feel myself blush. Talking about my toilet habits at the dinner table was a little unusual.

A sat down and pulled my seat in. Sarah said, "I'm glad everything came out OK." and then giggled at her own pun. Geeze, even my kid cousin had her thoughts on what I was doing in there.

"Where's your underwear?" Mom asked. "I hope you didn't leave it behind."

I reached behind my back and withdrew it. She took it and placed it in her bag, again unconcerned with who might be watching.

"I assume this means you're wearing your panties," she went on. "Why don't you show us?"

I looked at her in disbelief.

"Oh, I don't mean like that. Just turn down the waistline of your pants so we can see."

It was a good thing I was wearing full panties. I would have had to pull my pants all the way down to my hips for the other kind.

These were pink and lacy (at the top) and very visible. "They look nice," mom said, "Now sit down and eat your meal like a good boy."

"Now that we have you locked up, we have to decide what to do with you. The doctor recommended that we let you out of your cage twice a week. We'll have to figure out what that schedule will be."

My aunt interjected, "Well, he can be released when he comes over on Saturdays to my house to do the gardening."

"Do we unlock him before or after we play tennis. Neither is a convenient time."

"Well, if it's OK with you, I suggest Sarah take care of this chore."

Mom brightened, "I think that's a great idea, we can let her do it as sort of a reward for her role in bringing Steven under control." Turning to my cousin, she said, "Sarah, would you be willing to unlock Steven on Saturdays?"

"Can I?" she said with great excitement and then added, "Can my friends watch?"

"Of course, dear. It's OK with your mom, and it's OK with me. I'll check, but I think it will be OK with the other girls' moms; they've been so good about this so far. Do you know how to get him in and out of the cage?"

"Oh yeah, I watched Debbie do it."

Mom took out the package and read the instructions. "I don't know, this looks kind of complicated. Maybe we should practice it when we get home."

Mom reached in the box and pulled something out and handed it to Sarah. "Here, take this. It's one of the keys."

Sarah took the key. Then she took a chain off her neck. It had a cross on it. She undid the clasp and put the key on it. "There. It should be safe. I never take this chain off."

"What about the second time?" mom asked.

Sarah, still beaming with the reception of my key was quick with the answer. "I know, auntie, he can do it on Wednesday nights. That's when he used to do ..." she hesitated and then lowered her voice so only those of us at the table could hear, "When he used to play with himself at the computer. I can watch him take it off, and then I can make sure he puts it back on."

"I suppose that would work out," mom said. Turing to me she said, "When I go out, I'll leave the key by the computer. You are not even to touch it until Sarah tells you to. You will follow her instructions to the letter. And when she says to lock it up, you will lock it up. I'll check when I get home from my meeting."

Sarah leaned over and whispered something in my mother's ear.

My mom looked at her with surprise. "You can do that?"

"Of course I can," Sarah said confidently.

"By next Wednesday?"

"I'm not sure, but I think so."

"How much will it cost?"

"I don't know, but I have a friend who owes me a favor. I'll let you know when I find out."

Mercifully, the conversation turned to topics other than my chastity: mostly shopping, gossip and other "girl talk." I, of course, didn't participate. I was glad when the meal was over.

As we got up to leave, I could feel the silkiness of the panties rubbing my rear end. I was actually glad the cage was on my penis. I don't think it could take this kind of rubbing on my penis without getting an erection at least and probably an ejaculation at worst.

As it was, the thought of the panties rubbing my penis and the actual rubbing of them rubbing on my butt was enough to give me an erection ... or try to. I could feel it swell and press against the cage. It was uncomfortable, but not immediately painful. I knew it would become painful if I let it go unabated.

I tried everything I could to get my mind off my erection. That's just the problem, or at least a problem with me. The more I think about an erection, the worse it gets. I really had nothing to distract me on my walk to the car or the drive home to get my mind off of it.

When we finally got home, the women sorted out their purchases. (Women? Since when did my 12-year-old cousin become a woman?) Then came a moment that I both dreaded and welcomed: my cousin's practice with the device.

I dreaded it because of the humiliation of it, but I welcomed it for the relief of getting my cramped penis out of its prison. Also, I needed to know how to get myself in and out of the device. I was even plotting ways of getting a hold of my mother's key or Sarah's key so I could do it when they weren't around. Sarah, I was sure would guard her key like a junkyard dog with a bone. Mom might be more lax about her security. I looked forward to Wednesday night – if I could only get the key long enough to make a copy of it.

Soon I was standing naked in the living room except for my panties and the cage. The front of the panties was pulled down below my balls to give them access to my penis. Mom was reading the instructions on the box and showing the pictures to my aunt and cousin. It was almost reminiscent of another scene I remembered from my childhood where mom was reading from a cookbook teaching my then 6-year-old cousin Sarah how to bake cup cakes.

Sarah took the cage off my penis. Freed from its containment, it sprung to its full erection.

"Oh my!" mom explained. "We'll have to take care of that."

"Why don't we have Steven take care of it like he did in the store," Sarah was quick to add.

Mom immediately agreed, "You heard the girl, masturbate!"

I closed my eyes and did a mental shift of gears from erection suppression to masturbational fantasy. I closed my eyes and concentrated. Having already cum previously that evening meant that it took me a little longer. It gave the women more time to appreciate and enjoy the show. I could hear whispering and giggling but couldn't make out what was being said.

I tensed and shot my load. I could hear squeals and laughs. I was awakened from my post-ejaculate stupor by my mom poking my arm. I opened my eyes, she was offering me tissues. No words were exchanged. I took the tissues and wiped clean my deflating penis. It was soon available as a model to practice putting the cage on and off.

Each of the women tried it once and then Sarah asked for a repeat performance, "I want to make sure I got it right." It was a very flimsy excuse, but everyone bought it. When Sarah was finished with her second try, mom even added, and I am sure for the purpose of my embarrassment, "Sarah, why don't you do it one more time just to be sure you got it right. Practice makes perfect," she added with a laugh.

"OK, girls," mom said, "I think we know how to do that. Steven, go do your homework."

I made a reach for my clothes and mom said, "Oh don't bother, just pull your panties up. You'll be taking a shower before bed anyway. Just put your clothes in the wash.

I felt funny carrying my sneakers in my hand as I mounted the steps otherwise naked. I didn't look back, but I could feel Sarah's eyes on my rear end as she and my mom said their goodbyes at the door.