Up to the age of 14, my life was pretty much normal for a young boy. I was a bit overweight. Not hugely – chubby rather than fat – but I had that puppy-fat look about me that was an open invitation for every fat joke going.
August rolled round and it was time for school to start again after the long summer break. Everything was just fine in my little bubble universe as I left to go to school that morning, little knowing that my life was a few minutes away from taking a major turn for the worse.
I saw them from a distance. My heart sank as it was obvious they were waiting for me. I hadn’t even got within the school grounds on the first day back before we were back in the old routine.
“Hey fatso – nice uniform. New, is it?”
I nodded at the question and tried to move past, but he wasn’t having any of it.
“Hang on – we have something we want to talk to you about.”
Another attempt to walk past saw me grabbed by both arms and dragged down the street, right to the end, round the corner and into a quiet cul-de-sac.
“It’s a nice uniform, right enough, but you’re missing something.”
I stared blankly at him, not having the slightest idea what he was on about.
“I said you’re missing something from your uniform.”
He sounded it out as if he was talking to a half-wit. Meanwhile another had produced a bag from behind his back and had held it out for me. With shaking hands I took it and they all seemed to crowd in on me to see my reaction. I opened the bag and took out the box.
The picture on the front of the box was the picture of a young female in her underwear. The bra she was wearing clearly wasn’t important, it was what else she had on that made me feel sick. I’d just been handed a box containing a long-leg panty girdle. The words of one of their standard taunts – “hey fatso, get a girdle” –came to mind. I clearly had no intention of getting a girdle and so, somehow, they’d got one for me.
I dropped both box and bag and started to back off – not the smartest move, as the only escape route was behind them.
“Now that’s not very nice. You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’. Put your new girdle on.”
I shook my head pathetically as he continued.
“You’re going to look so much better without that pot belly or wobbly backside. Put it on.”
The smile disappeared from his face.
“Put your girdle on – now – or we’ll make you put it on.”
The delay that followed seemed to last for ages, though it could only have been a few seconds. Two of them grabbed an arm each and another started to try to unfasten the belt of my trousers. The ridiculous struggle that followed saw me lose my footing and fall to one knee. Within seconds three of us were wrestling around on the ground. The ringleader, still upright and bending over me, had now got my trousers down to mid-thigh. It may seem ludicrous, but at this point the thought that came to my mind was that my new uniform might get torn and I’d get hell when I got home.
“Stop! Stop!...I’ll do it.”
I opened the box and took out the girdle. I remember moaning involuntarily with horror as I held it by the waist band and let it unfold. High waisted, long legged, with a fearsome looking front panel. I stepped into it and slowly started to pull it up. A few brisk tugs later I was wearing my new girdle. My eyes must have been popping out of my skull judging by the laughter it triggered. As I’d been pulling it on, there had been giggling, wolf-whistles, slogans from TV ads – “can you believe it’s a girdle?” – but now they’d been reduced to hysterics.
A sudden flash brought me back out of my stupor. One of them had produced a camera – the Polaroid type that produced actual pictures within seconds. They crowded round to see the blank white square slowly reveal me in all my glory – face a picture of shock as I stood there in my new school shirt, new school tie, new school blazer... and new school panty girdle.
“People are going to love these.”
To my shame, I went back to begging. Damn, I really wish I hadn’t done that. My pleading became almost incoherent as I lost it. A hand was placed on my shoulder.
“It’s a shame to have got that nice new girdle for you to just wear it for a few minutes. Maybe if you make it part of your uniform then no-one needs to see the pictures.”
I gawped vacantly at him, unable to believe my ears.
“You want me to...”
“Yep! Every school day, from start to finish. Five days a week. No time off. When you have that uniform on, you have your girdle on as well. We catch you without it on – just once – and we show the pictures around. And we'll send one to your parents. Get dressed. We’re going to be late.”
Sobbing, I put my trousers back on, tucked in my shirt, zipped my fly, fastened the button, fastened my belt.
“You see! You do look better in it!”
Bending over to put on my shoes was an experience. I gasped out loud as I got down far enough to fasten them, overcoming the resistance of my new underwear. They were screaming with laughter.
We walked in silence for most of the way, with me struggling to walk naturally in my tight, controlling girdle. I was lost in my own world as I wiped my eyes with my handkerchief and tried to pull myself together before we reached the school gates. Our path took us past the department store where, presumably, they’d somehow acquired this thing. Seeing the window displays was like a punch in the gut. All I could think of as I stared at a smiling shop dummy in a panty girdle was that I was wearing one of these. I was wearing a girdle! I was wearing women’s underwear! The first day of my new life had begun.
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