Steve wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the bathroom door close. He was in the shower and the bathroom fan was running, so he stopped for a moment to listen. Maybe one of the guys came in to use the toilet, he wondered.
“Hello?” he said aloud.
No reply. It was probably just one of the other guys getting something they’d left in the bathroom, he thought. Steve was one of the last to shower, and the other guys had left a variety of toiletry items at the sink. So he went on showering but hurried somewhat so he wouldn’t keep the guys waiting. They were planning to head into town and have beers at the bar Robert said was a good hangout.
His friend from work, Dave, had invited him to join some other coworkers for a weekend trip to Robert’s cabin, where they were going to play cards, drink lots of beer, watch tomorrow’s game, and just relax. Steve had met most of the other guys, knew some of them a little, and they all seemed like good guys. Steve was happy to be getting to know some other guys from work.
When he finished showering and pulled the curtain open, though, he had an awful surprise. His clothes were gone, and other clothing was in the place where he’d put his clothes on the counter. Taking his clothes might be a little prank on him, sort of an initiation for the new guy in the group, but the clothes left on the counter were not regular clothes.
The clothing items were all feminine items. A pair of red, satin bikini panties lay atop the pile, with a red nightie or chemise folded underneath. Black stockings, actually pantyhose, were underneath all, but the legs hung down toward the floor, where there sat a pair of black, patent leather high heels, which appeared to have four-inch heels.
He still prayed that they were playing a prank on him, but something made him feel that was doubtful. 'Did they know he was a cross-dresser? Oh, how could they know? How could they have found out?' He’d never told anyone about his cross-dressing. Except for other crossdressers he’d met online, that is, or other guys, and even a few girls, who were dominants and seemed to enjoy chatting with crossdressers, but he’d never even met any of them in person.
True, he’d had encounters with other men, in adult bookstores and once at a rest stop, and revealed that he was wearing panties to them as he was sucking them off. Most just laughed a bit, or said they didn’t care, and urged him to just keep sucking. But none of those encounters had been anywhere near where he worked, and none very recently, and he didn’t recognize anyone he’d had encounters with, and never saw them again. There hadn’t even been that many. So how could his coworkers have found him out?
He reached for the towel and slowly began drying himself. Over the noise of the fan, he could hear voices in the adjoining bedroom, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Occasionally, he heard them laugh loudly, though.
“Oh, God,” he said to himself, quietly.
What was he going to do? He searched his mind for answers, for a way to handle this situation. As he finished drying himself, he resolved that he would act like they’d played a prank on him, hoping it was really true. They couldn’t possibly know the truth! If they accused him of being a cross-dresser, he would just deny it, shrug it off, and get his male clothing back.
He wrapped the towel around himself, tucked it at the waist, and went to the door. He paused. He heard laughter again and waited for it to stop, his hand on the doorknob. He felt like he was shaking, nervous, his breath shuddering. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then opened the door and went into the room.
The other guys, four of them, were not dressed completely, but most had on t-shirts and underwear, men’s underwear, some boxers, some briefs. One, Robert, was shirtless; he wore boxers. They all looked at Steve.
“Um, are you guys playing a joke on me?” said Steve, trying to sound nonchalant while not sustaining eye contact with any one of them.
The guys looked at one another, shrugged, and looked back at Steve. Several of them simply said, “No.”
Then Robert said to Steve, pointedly, “Why aren’t you dressed?”
Steve paused, then answered, “You guys took my clothes. Mind if I have them back?”
Most of the guys laughed a little, then Robert spoke again: “We put your clothes in there for you. Didn’t you see them?”
The guys were all grinning, staring at him.
“Those aren’t my clothes in there,” said Steve, slowly. He felt their stares and wondered if he could get out of this mess. “Come on, “ he said. “Where're my clothes?”
This time Brian spoke. “They’re in the bathroom, sissy. Why don’t you go put them on like a good little sissy?”
Brian’s response brought a hearty round of laughter from everyone except Steve, who felt himself reddening.
“What do you mean?” he asked after the laughter subsided. “Why are you calling me a sissy?”
Robert had been half sitting on the desk. He was shirtless and wore boxers. He stood up, and Steve couldn’t help noticing his muscular frame. Robert was tall, fit, and obviously worked out a lot. “We know you’re a sissy, dude,” he said.
Steve felt intimidated, but managed to inquire, “Who says I’m a sissy?”
“Oh, Steffie,” began Robert, “do you really need us to prove we know? Why don’t you just be a good girl and go put on the sissy clothes we all pitched in and bought you?”
“How can you prove what isn’t true?” tried Steve. His face must be totally red. Robert had called him by his online sissy name, Steffie. God, how did they know? Did they really have proof?
Steve had tried to avoid looking at Dave, his friend--or so he thought. But now Dave caught his eye, and said, “Sorry, man. Or, sissy, I mean.” He grinned and the others grinned with him.
John was sitting in a chair in front of the desk where Robert had been leaning, but facing away from the desk so he could see Steve. Now John swiveled the chair and scooted back up to the desk, where a laptop computer stood open. He turned the computer a bit, angled it toward Steve, and said, “Well, come have a look at yourself.”
Filled with dread, Steve approached the desk. Even from a distance, he could see the picture displayed on the screen, a picture he had posted of himself in one of the online sissy sites he had joined, wearing a short skirt, white blouse, black hose and black four inch high heels. The shoes looked much like the pair the guys had placed in the bathroom for him to wear. However, his head and face were not shown in the picture.
Trying not to sound desperate, Steve said, “How do you know that’s me? You can’t see my—I mean, the face.”
With Steve leaning over to see the computer screen, John reached for the mouse and clicked the arrow next to the picture, and yet another familiar photograph appeared. They had obviously found his membership profile on one of his sissy sites online. He knew that none of the pictures clearly showed his face, though. The picture now on display, however, was more revealing than the first, showing him wearing only thigh high, light tan hose and panties.
“Hey, John,” said Robert, “zoom in on that a little.”
John enlarged the photo, and, leaning forward next to Steve, Robert said, “Yeah, look at that mole on that sissy’s right thigh. I wonder if Steve, or Steffie here, has one like it.”
Suddenly, from behind, the towel he had wrapped around himself was yanked off of Steve.
Startled, Steve whirled, to see Brian holding the towel, grinning broadly.
“Hey! Give me back that towel!” Steve said, almost shrieking.
But then he felt a hard slap on his right butt cheek, which made him jump and whirl back around.
“Ow!” he cried, finding himself looking into, or, rather, up into Robert’s grinning face. He had instinctively reached his hands down to his crotch, in an effort to cover his penis, leaving his ass exposed.
The other guys were laughing at Steve.
“That hurt!” Steve exclaimed, but then, snap! he felt the sting of the towel snapping at his ass, and he whirled again, to face Brian. But Brian, holding the towel in one hand, pointed with his other hand at Steve’s leg.
“Check it out, guys,” said Brian. “I think it’s the telltale mole there on his thigh.”
Steve wished he could just disappear.
“A lot of people have moles,” Steve declared.
The others were laughing again.
“It says here in your profile that you like spankings, too. Not to mention cock sucking,” reported John. “So, no reason to complain about a couple of swats on the ass.”
Steve turned again and saw that John had brought up his sissy profile on the site. There were other things listed that Steve liked, including humiliation, anal toys, cock and ball torture, and just being as slutty as could be.
Steve knew he had been “outed” now. He began to feel fearful, wondering what the guys were going to do to him, and whom they had told about him. 'Did everyone at work know about him now? Were they going to beat him up for being gay?'
His confusion was interrupted by yet another announcement: “We just sent you an email a little while ago. You might have heard us laughing about it while you were in the bathroom. Check your phone—it’s right here.”
Steve hadn’t even thought about his phone but saw it off to one side on the desk. He picked it up and punched in his passcode. When he checked his email, though, the newest mail was from one of his online friends from the sissy site currently up on the computer.
The email was from one of the dominant males he’d connected with, flirted with, and had exchanged several emails with already.
The email, from MasterFull, read: “I like chatting and emailing with you but would much rather stick my real cock in your mouth and have you swallow my cum. I know you love cock. Maybe I’m psychic, but I have a feeling you’re going to get lucky this weekend!”
Steve read the brief email quickly, holding the phone close to shield it from the others, although Robert was leaning over to try and have a look at it. John, meanwhile, was at the computer again, typing briefly and making several clicks with the mouse.
“I don’t see anything from you guys on here,” said Steve, as he exited his email on the phone.
“Really?” asked Robert. “Nothing from MasterFull?”
Steve hesitated, growing confused again. “Yes, I guess. Is that a friend of your?”
The others burst out laughing.
“We are MasterFull!” announced Robert. “All of us. Here’s our profile,” he said, pointing to the computer.
Steve was quite familiar with the profile on display. Like most of the Doms he’d met online, the profile picture was of a penis—a penis very impressive, to Steve, for its size and appearance. It was rock hard, appeared to be at least eight inches in length, and with healthy girth.
“You told us you’d love to suck it, worship it, and swallow every drop of cum that came out of it if you had the privilege of sucking it,” said Robert. “Remember?”
Steve said nothing, looking down at the floor. But he did remember saying those things to MasterFull in one of the emails he’d sent him.
John clicked the mouse and brought up another window on the computer, showing an email account. “Here are all the emails you sent us,” he said. “You keep telling us you want to suck our cock. Now you have your chance.”
The others laughed, and there were shouts of, “Yeah, baby” and, “Oh, yeah!”
“You go, cocksucker!” came from Allen, who hadn’t said much.
When the jeering and laughter subsided, Steve, cowed, said, “But how? How did you guys find that site? And how did you know it was me? At least tell me that,” said Steve.
“Aw, sis,” said Dave. “Let’s just say you shouldn’t leave your phone open on the bar when you go to the john. You did that once when we were having a couple of beers, and an email popped up on your phone. I was curious and then surprised to see it was from someone who was obviously a sissy, just by the name. Before that, I never had a clue. But now we all know you’re a sissy.”
“Oh, God,” moaned Steve. “Damn it. Damn, damn, damn,” he muttered to the floor, dejectedly.
The others were giggling and grinning.
“No reason to feel bad about it,” said Robert, in a mockingly consoling tone.