Rent or Forfeit 11

Chapter 11: Work It Girl

“I hate my sisters,” Tommy thought to himself as he stood in a high end boutique watching the clock tick down towards the end of another long and boring shift. His feet throbbed having been on his high-heeled feet all day, clomping around the shop floor folding and re-folding items of clothing, tidying racks, and worse of all engaging with customers while pretending to know what he talking about.

It was his third and final day and he couldn’t wait for it to end. As temp work was, he had placed in the clothing store to cover for a woman on vacation. The thought of this woman he had never met, sunning her elf by some pool, while he did her tedious job while looking out at the winter street was enough to make him sick. Sarah and Monica had tried to raise his spirits each night when he went home to soak his feet and moan about his day, telling him it was an easy job – getting paid to literally stand around and do nothing most of the day. However, with very little stimulation for his mind, and the compulsory uniform that forced him to spend all day in public in a skirt, Tommy was living his own personal hell.

Today his outfit was the worst yet, having pretended to forget it, Miss Watson – the store manager - hadn’t seemed fazed, simply telling him she would find him something off the shop floor. The silky high-waisted pencil skirt had taken some getting used to, the unfamiliar feeling of it clinging to his nylon covered thighs, as it held his legs tightly together was unsettling at best. It also put extra pressure on his concealed manhood, tucked away inside his tight panties.

The soft white blouse he wore on top wasn’t as bad, however the low cut top that gave the world a view of the impressive cleavage formed by one of his new bras, was a strange sensation. Just having the glued-on breast forms there, jiggling and pulling at his skin beneath, redistributed his centre of gravity, forcing him stand differently just to balance. This time he knew he had chosen wrongly after pulling the two forfeit options the previous Friday evening. He should have faced his fear of needles and gone for the piercings, but unable to do so, he had ended up in female underwear with two huge globs of silicon firmly attached to his chest.

"I hate my sisters," Tommy muttered under his breath as he watched the clock tick down towards the end of another long and tedious shift. His feet throbbed from standing all day in high heels, clomping around the shop floor, folding and refolding items of clothing, tidying racks, and, worst of all, engaging with customers while pretending to be a fashion expert.

It was his third and final day in the high-end boutique, and he couldn’t wait for it to be over. Temp work had landed him here, filling in for a woman on vacation. The thought of this unknown woman lounging by a pool while he slogged through her mundane job, staring out at the dreary winter street, was infuriating. Each evening, as he returned home to soak his swollen feet, Sarah and Monica would cheerily remind him that it was easy work - essentially just standing around and getting paid to do next to nothing. Under other circumstances, Tommy might have agreed with them.

But the lack of mental stimulation, combined with the compulsory uniform, made each day feel like a personal hell. Today’s outfit was the worst yet. Having pretended to forget his uniform, Miss Watson, the store manager, hadn’t flinched. She simply chose something off the shop floor for him. The silky high-waisted pencil skirt was a nightmare; it clung awkwardly to his nylon-covered thighs, squeezing them together and putting extra pressure on 'Little Tommy and the boys,' who were tucked uncomfortably away inside his panties.

The delicate white blouse was less troublesome, except for the low-cut front that showcased an impressively crafted cleavage, courtesy of what now lay inside his new bra. Feeling the weight and jiggle of the glued-on breast forms that shifted his centre of gravity was surreal. He had to adjust his posture constantly just to maintain balance. Reflecting on his choices from Friday’s forfeit draw, Tommy knew he’d made a mistake. He should have confronted his fear of needles and chosen the piercings. Instead, he found himself with heavy silicone forms affixed to his chest and a sore back.

Lifting his right foot, Tommy momentarily rested it on its heel to try and alleviate the discomfort. After manning the changing rooms for two hours, his legs were beginning to cramp. He glanced down at his suede pumps, the tall stiletto heels pushing him to his physical limits and making him feel painfully out of place among the female staff, who wore lower heels or even flats. But having chosen the forfeit to wear high heels - a decision he now deeply regretted - he had no choice. It seemed the only footwear available in the house these days were towering stilettos and sky-high platforms.

(See image 11)

"Tammy, can you come here a moment, please?" a voice called out, startling Tommy and making him jump.

"Yes, Miss Watson," he replied, managing a forced smile as he slowly clicked his way across the shop floor.

"I just want to say, we've really enjoyed having you here the last few days. Usually, when the temp agency sends us a girl, she’s late and surly, if she turns up at all. It’s been a breath of fresh air having someone like you, who’s not only feminine and pretty, but also comes to work with such a positive, can-do attitude. If you're looking for a more permanent job, come and speak to me later," Miss Watson said enthusiastically.

The words 'feminine' and 'pretty' made Tommy blush. “Thank you, Miss Watson. I’ll consider it,” he replied, the smile on his bright red lips hiding his inner turmoil.

"That’s all," Miss Watson added, noticing the feminized man still awkwardly standing there. "I’ll let you get back to it."

Tommy nodded before tottering back toward the changing rooms. He had no intention of taking her up on her offer. A future working in the fashion industry, squeezed into a tight uniform, bored out of his mind, and waiting for his feet to fall off was not a career path he wanted to pursue.

The days dragged that week, each second ticking by at what seemed like half speed. To make matters worse, the temp agency wouldn’t be paying him until the end of the month. Meaning all he had to look forward to after a frustrating week of work was another forfeit and an impossible choice. He knew he just had to hang in there; the money for the rent was on its way. Nonetheless, this didn't make the week's options any more palatable: “Join an online dating website and find a boyfriend,” or “Get lip filling injections.”