John had finally made it through high school and escaped from the
confines of his hometown. And now he had made it to the big city. OK, he
had no real friends and no family, but at least he wasn't harassed as
much any more. Back home in high school he was always picked on for
being too small and too weak. It didn't help that he looked slightly
feminine or that he had been caught checking out the butt of the star
quarterback. He had instantly been branded a "fucking sissy homo
asswipe". He had tried to protest his innocence, told everybody that he
had been checking out the ass of the cheerleader standing next to the
quarterback, but it had been in vain. He was branded. And he had to
admit there was some truth to it; even though he had never had sexual
relations with anyone but himself, he was attracted to both sexes. So
the rest of high school had been hell. And there was a thing about his
sexuality. He was attracted to both sexes; in fact he had fantasized
about both the cheerleader and the quarterback. But it went a little
further than that. He was also secretly in love with women's clothing.
He dreamt about dressing up in a pretty dress and putting on a pair of
high-heeled shoes. He dreamt about being pretty. When he was sure that
his uncle was away, he would dress up in women's clothes he had bought
in the next town. He would pose in front of the mirror and dream about
being taken by large and strong hands. Held by his assailant and being
dominated until he gave in to his attacker and performed some
humiliating and highly arousing service. There were endless variations,
but they all ended with him masturbating frantically. Afterwards he was
always shameful that he couldn't be more normal, couldn't be more like
everybody else. He would remove the panties, the bra, the dress and the
high-heeled shoes vowing never to put them on again. But it never
worked. He didn't dare throw them out, and sometimes he used them only a
few hours later. For all his lust he was still a virgin. It had all
remained in his fantasies.

But he still had no friends (male or female) and the uncle he had been
living with (his parents were dead) hated his guts even before he had
been branded a homo. At least his uncle didn't suspect that he loved
women's clothing. That would have made his uncle evict him much sooner.
But he had gotten through high school, and the day after graduation he
had run away .. sort of. His uncle had made it very clear that he would
not be missed and that no authorities would be alerted if he ran away.
He had gone to the city because it was the biggest he could get to, but
also because he had heard a rumor that he had an aunt living there, his
mothers younger sister. He had no idea if she was as hostile as his
father's brother, but he thought he might find out someday. So far all
he had was a phone number.

Chapter 1

He had gotten a job with a large company doing odd jobs, mostly filing
papers and bringing out mail. It wasn't much, but it was enough to pay
for a small one-room apartment on the seedier side of town. Since he was
still very shy from his experiences in high school he hadn't made any
friends yet, but he was gaining confidence every day. No one had picked
on him yet. Since everything was going so well, he decided to try his
luck and contact his aunt. Maybe she would be nice. So Wednesday evening
he called the number he had found in his mothers belongings.
"Chamberlain residence", a soft and sexy soprano answered, catching him
somewhat by surprise. He hadn't expected someone sounding so sexy. "Is
this Helen Chamberlain?", he asked. "No. Who may I say is calling?", the
voice answered. "John Shoemaker, I am Helen Chamberlain's nephew", he
stammered back. The voice told him to wait and after a couple of minutes
another voice came on: "This is Helen Chamberlain. To whom am I
speaking?", the voice inquired. It was soft yet very commanding. "It's
John Shoemaker. I am the son of Catherine who I think was your sister",
he answered the voice. "What was your fathers name", she asked. "Tom
Shoemaker", John answered. After a small silence the voice said: "Then I
probably am your aunt." A silence followed, which he felt the need to
break: "I thought maybe we could meet? I have never met you, and mom
never spoke of you, but since we are related and I have moved to town
maybe...", he trailed of. "Excellent idea!"