Archive-name: Changes/bates02.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Joe Bates' Story-  2





                                   Chapter2

                                   THE MALL



  Joe went out to the parking area, and opened the door of his RX-7. He sat

down in the semi-reclining seats, and found that not only could he barely see

over the steering wheel, he was unable to depress the clutch pedal to shift

gears. He adjusted the seat, until he found a position which suited his new,

smaller proportions. The seatbelt pinched his breasts, until he adjusted the

shoulder trap so that it passed between those unfamiliar mounds.  Driving over

to the mall, he remembered to be very careful, since a traffic ticket, or an

accident, would probably cause extraordinary problems. His mind was racing to

consider the possibilities, where he would go, how much money he had, what he

had to buy, when he was startled again by the recognition that he had no

purse.  He tried to remember if he had ever seen a woman without a purse on a

shopping trip, or, if he had ever seen a woman take a wallet out of her hip

pocket to pay for something.  Deciding the answer was no, he made a note to

remove his cash, atm card, and some credit cards, from his wallet.  He decided

that his first purchase would be a purse and a woman's wallet.  Damn, he

thought this is not going to be easy.



  Pulling off the highway into the parking lot, he parked near the entrance to

Sears.  He always parked by Sears, and walked through the store on his way

into the mall.  As he walked in, he found himself in the lingerie department.

It seemed whenever you walked into Sears, you walked into women's panties.

Normally, he might sneak furtive glances at the sexy undies, and the women

trying to decide from the huge selection of sizes, styles, and colors.  Today,

it was his time to decide. He couldn't believe the variety.  Although he liked

the way women looked in a sleek, sexy, string bikini, when he took one from

the rack and held it up, he couldn't imagine wearing something like that. He

looked at hi-leg, strings, and hip-huggers, in nylon and cotton, lace and

sheer, and all in every color of the rainbow. He liked the soft, smooth

textures. He finally settled on some hip-huggers which came in a little tube

of three colors, and were labeled "Jockey for Her." He wasn't sure if it was

brand loyalty, or just that by selecting those, he didn't have to decide on

color. He looked at some traditional briefs, high leg type, without any

decoration, which came in a variety pack of pastel colors, and decided that he

would take one of those too. He hoped he could figure out a way out of his

predicament, before he needed any more.



  Bras were even harder to select. He didn't really know what size he was, and

he wasn't sure how find out. He was about ready to hold a bra he thought might

fit up to his chest, when a cute sales girl came up and asked if she could

help. "Can I be of assistance?" she asked. Embarrassed, he mumbled nervously

that he was looking for a bra. "And what is your size?" she asked, smiling. "I

don't remember," he lied, and then realized how ridiculous that probably

sounded. "I mean, I lost some weight lately, and I might need a new size." he

tried, hoping that made more sense. "Sure," she said, "Come on back, lets

measure you." She started to walk to the dressing rooms. He followed her into

one of small cubicles and stood next to her. She looked at him. He didn't want

to show his chest to this girl. Finally she said, "You will have to remove, or

at least, pull up that top please." she said, looking at him strangely. He

pulled the sweatshirt over his head, and removed his oversize men's shirt. She

seemed surprised when she saw he wasn't wearing a bra.  His heart pounded, as

this girl, who yesterday he might have asked out, took a cold measuring tape

and encircled first his chest below his breasts, and then, pulled it snugly

across his erect nipples. "I think we better try a 34B." she said. She went

out, and a moment later returned with a glossy pink underwire, with the clasp

in front, between the cups. He looked at the dainty thing, and fumbled as he

attempted to put his arms into the proper places between the tangle of straps.

The girl watched in amusement. I wonder what she's thinking,? he thought as he

pulled the straps around his back and roughly pulled the cups over his curves.

When he felt he had it positioned correctly, he stopped, and the girl began

tugging and poking at the cups and straps, checking for tightness and gaps.

Her soft touch made him feel strange, and he just knew his face was red as a

beet. "Looks right, how does it feel"?, she asked. If you only knew, he

thought, but said, "feels fine to me." "Well I'll let you browse" she said,

"Just ask if I can be of further assistance." "Thank You" he said, removing

the sexy thing as she left the small room.



  He was putting his shirt back on when his breasts reminded him that maybe he

should get a bra to wear while trying on clothes. Besides, he probably should

have more than one of these things anyway. He left the pink bra, and his

sweatshirt, in the dressing room, and went back out to select another. Well,

now I know what size I am, at least, he thought, grinning.  As he looked, he

decided that he didn't want any type but front close, since he figured that

those were difficult enough. He picked a flesh tone, seamless cup number, he

knew Linda wore that kind, and she sure looked good in it. Reconsidering, he

grabbed two of them, wondering if Linda's breasts were larger, or smaller,

than his. He concluded they were probably about the same, and realized he was

grinning like some kind of idiot. As he made his way back to the dressing

room, he decided to get one more. It was plain, and white, like, he imagined,

a nurse might wear. And of course, it was front close. A proper bra for a guy

like me, he thought, sarcastically.



  Entering the cubicle, he removed his shirt again. More experienced this

time, he carefully put the white bra on, and adjusted the straps for fit.  How

does it feel?, he mimicked to himself. Damn weird, he answered silently.



  After he had paid for the underwear, giving the girl the empty box, and

telling her he was wearing the white one. He walked out into the mall and

thought how funny it was that he had bought panties and bras at Sears, the

place he usually thought of only for tools to work on his sportscar.



  Walking down the corridor he entered a shoe store and started to look at the

women's shoes.  A man came over and asked if he could help.  "Yes", he said,

and selected a few pairs to try on. One of them had a low heel. He sat down,

and removed his oversize shoes and his socks. The salesman came over and

measured his foot.  Got to remember this size, he thought.  The man returned

with some boxes, and handed him some cut off nylons. Looking at them he

wondered why, then he remembered that women wore nylons. While trying on shoes

the foot had to be covered for some health department reason.  He slipped the

nylon booty on, and tried on his first pair of "girl-shoes."  They were simple

navy blue, with a two inch heel, and they fit, though it seemed as though they

stopped too early on his foot.  He awkwardly walked a few steps, all the while

thinking he didn't know how he could possibly fake anyone into thinking he was

a woman, wearing  these things. He decided to get a pair of women's Rebok

exercise shoes too. They would be easier to walk in, he knew.  He then paid

for the shoes, and after receiving the change, decided it was time to get a

purse.



  Next, he entered Dillards.  As he walked into the store, he nose was

assaulted by the smell of cosmetics. Normally he could to get a headache just

walking through this section of a department store.  A woman walked up, and

asked him to try a perfume, he started to say he  didn't wear perfume, when it

occurred on him that he had no makeup on, and he figured women usually wore

makeup, at least in public.  Oh hell, he thought, what am I going to do about

this. He nodded, "No thanks" and moved over to a cosmetic case and began to

look.



  A woman in a white smock saw him, and offered to help.  He nodded yes, and

she led him over to a mirror and a chair.  Looking at his face, the woman said

"If you have some time, I have some things that would look very nice on you."

Did you have anything special in mind?"  He replied, no, but that he would

like to see what she could do for him.  Sensing a good sale, the woman walked

behind the counter and came out with a whole series of things.  In the next

fifteen minutes, the sales woman did complete makeover of his face.  Starting

with a base, she applied a very light layer to his entire face.  Then she

moved to his eyes, and applied first an eyeliner, then some mascara, and

finally some shadow. She then applied some blush to his cheeks, and finally

offered a lipstick.  All the while, she kept chattering about how to apply the

makeup, the pros an cons, and telling him with both words and looks that he

was starting to look pretty good. She commented on his rather exotic hair

style. Yea, he thought, exotic.



  Finally she held a mirror to his eyes so that he could look, and look he

did.  He appeared completely different, completely female in the face, and, he

thought, attractive, not drop dead beautiful, but attractive.



  Standing back with her arms folded, the saleswomen asked what he thought.

"I like it," Joe replied, "it's very nice."  With that, he began buying all

the make up the women suggested, until finally, he began to worry about the

cost.  As he reached into his jeans, he noticed that he was down to a few

hundred dollars and that amount was about to be severely damaged by this

purchase.  Nevertheless there was nothing he could do about.  The sales person

noticed his American Express card, and said that they accepted American

Express.  He offered her the card, and she rang up the sale and dialed in the

number on the verification modem. As she did that he remembered the card was

in his name, and that it was his signature on the back.  The sales-person

didn't even look at the back, but gave him back the card and asked him sign

his name.  When he thought about it, he decided that she probably thought he

was his own wife. It would be a perfectly natural assumption.



  Next stop, some clothes  to wear outside the underwear. He took the

escalator up to women's dresses, and began to go through the racks looking for

something. He wasn't sure of what he wanted, what size, or color, or style,

and was actually relieved when a saleswoman asked to help him. "May I help

you, miss?" she said. Together, they picked out a navy blue skirt that he said

he liked, two blouses, which the saleswoman recommended, and a couple of

dresses. One had small flowers on a light background, the other was a simple

knit dress. Then they moved back to skirts, and selected a couple which Joe

thought looked as though a school teacher might wear. He picked a couple of

silky blouses worn by a mannequin which caught his masculine eye. What the

heck, he thought, If I have to wear them, I might as well like what they look

like.



  The saleswoman took the clothes, and led him to the dressing room. He hoped

she would not expect to go in with him while he undressed. He was wearing his

men's black bikini briefs, and they looked a little strange, with their

"supporting pouch" bunched up between his legs. But, she only showed him to an

empty cubical, and helped him carry his many selections. Here, in the ladies

fitting area, he could see women through the wide slats, which served for

doors to the small dressing areas. They were trying on dresses too, and were

in various stages of undress. His male eyes, and brain, could not keep from

looking. A young woman probably about his age, was in the compartment directly

across from his. She was goddess, with long blond hair, almost to her waist.

She was standing in her underwear, an almost transparent flesh toned bra, with

matching panties, which hid nothing, from the tip of her toes, to the tips of

her firm breasts. He stared as she pulled a sweater over her head,

unconsciously wriggling erotically as she did so. His heart pounded, and he

thought he would die right there. He felt familiar stirring's of arousal

coming from his groin, and he reached down to rub his cock. The damp softness

he encountered, brought him back to reality. She ain't for you right now,

tiger, he sighed. Frustrated, he looked away, back at the rack of clothes. He

tried the little floral print dress on first. Not knowing if it fit well, he

walked out barefoot, into the mirror area where the woman waited for him.

"That looks very nice on you sweetie," she said. He turned around in the dress

and found himself looking over his small shoulder, into the mirror. He looked

so much like a woman, it almost made him cringe. He went back, tried on the

rest of the clothes, and, to the saleswoman's delight, purchased all of them.



  Again, he offered the American Express card, and again, no one questioned

his signature.  Laden with packages, he started to the escalator when he came

to Parklane Hosiery. Pantyhose, he thought, I'll probably need some to wear

with these dresses.  He started reading the back of the packages, and figured

out his size (he now knew he had size 34 hips). He purchased three pair, in as

many colors. He looked around the store, at the plastic legs covered with all

types of sexy stockings and pantyhose. He saw some ladies athletic type,

cotton socks, and decided he should get some like that to go with his Reboks.



  Going down the escalator, he ran over his mental list of things to get, and

felt satisfied that he had gotten everything. He left the store and started

back to his car when he remembered the purse. He ducked into a store, and

quickly selected both a purse and ladies wallet.



  Now he had to return home, and get in costume. He had a meeting with Jay for

lunch.



--