The Devil You Know Ch. 01

Brian Davies sat on the hard toilet seat in a cubicle of the men's room on the twelfth floor of the building housing the large publishing company he worked for; he was reading the Daily Mail and trying to kill the last half hour before quitting time. As a middle-management employee he didn't really work mandated hours; he was expected to work whatever hours were necessary to ensure his small team met or exceeded their productivity quotas. Brian thought that productivity quotas were a crock of shit; what the bosses really wanted was income in the form of hard currency. He also thought that in the current economic climate he and his small team might not be around much longer,

"Fuck it!" he whispered to himself.

"Five fucking years of late nights, constant travel, and hard work and all I've got to show for it is a mortgage I can only just pay, and a fucking second-hand Beamer!" he whined quietly and flicked the page over to look at the 'Employment Opportunities' section.

Brian was sitting sideways on the toilet hoping that his feet wouldn't show under the door of the cramped cubicle. At five o'clock he intended to shut down his workstation and get the fuck out of the office and he didn't want any of his staff chasing him down with the mundane crap they called work.

He was vaguely aware when the door to the rest room opened and closed and then he started as the door to the toilet cubicle next to his opened and closed.

'Fuck!' he thought to himself.

Mike Harris was one of five employees of the publishing company who worked on the team headed up by Brian Davis. Mike didn't like Brian much and was damn sure that Brian didn't think much of him. They seldom socialised, but when the team got together for 'team building activities' (read amateur team sports followed by heavy drinking), it seemed to Mike that Brian picked him out especially for belittlement and derision. There was nothing that Mike could actually formally complain about; but Mike seemed to treat him with an undercurrent of disdain that Brian didn't use with the other team members.

'Fuck him!' Mike thought to himself as he entered the men's room on the twelfth floor.

Mike quickly looked around the men's room and checked to ensure that the adjoining cubicle was empty. The door to the cubicle was closed but he couldn't see any feet under the door so he assumed it was vacant.

'We're all getting the arse soon anyway; so fuck him and the rest of the team!' he thought as he closed and locked the toilet door.

Mike hung his coat on the hook on the back of the door and unbuckled his belt and unzipped the fly of his suit pants. He slid his trousers down; the fabric hissed quietly as his trousers slid down his legs. Mike shuddered at the sensation as the micro-fibre trouser material rubbed against the sleek lycra of the sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose he was wearing under his suit. His underpants consisted of a pair of full-cut satin panties and his cock was tenting the front panel. A small wet patch of pre-seminal fluid had soaked through the gusset of the pantyhose and was spreading across the front of his panties.

Mike Harris was a closet crossdresser and sometimes he just couldn't resist the urge to wear women's underwear to work under his suit. He knew it was dangerous and the consequences of being caught were horrific but he couldn't help himself.

Mike reached into the inside pocket of his jacket where it hung on the door and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it with trembling fingers and looked at the image printed on the paper. It was a beautiful transvestite; heavily made-up and wearing sexy lingerie, fully-fashioned stockings and high-heels. She was on her knees fellating a similarly dressed transvestite who was sporting an enormous erection which was sticking out of the front of her open-crotch panties.

Mike had downloaded the image on his workstation only thirty minutes ago and stored it in a hidden folder on his desktop. His workstation was set in a corner of the office where the screen could not be viewed by his co-workers and he had kept opening the file and looking at it even though he knew it was dangerous; if someone came over to chat they might see his screen before he could close the file.

He couldn't help himself and as his erection grew inside his trousers, encased and caressed by the panties and hose, he knew he would have to take care of his erection or go home with an obvious bulge in the front of his pants. He'd scanned the office carefully to make sure the coast was clear and then dumped the image onto the high-speed colour printer on his desk, stuffed it in his jacket and quickly headed for the men's room.

That picture and the resultant hard-on were to seal Mike Harris's fate and determine his future for some time to come. Mike would normally never use the rest room at work if he was wearing lingerie under his suit. He'd hold it in, or if he had to go, he'd leave the building and use the rest rooms in the shopping centre across the street; they had floor to ceiling doors on the cubicles. Then he'd puff a quick smoke on the sidewalk and then return to the twelfth floor with everyone thinking he had just ducked out for a smoke.

Today Mike was so sexually aroused that he risked using the toilet at work so that he could quickly relieve himself. He figured it was that close to quitting time that everyone would be too busy packing up for the day to bother using the bathroom before they headed home for the weekend.

Mike sat on the cold toilet seat; his trousers bunched around his ankles, and looked at the picture of the two transvestites. He stroked his cock through the diaphanous material of his pantyhose and panties. He needed release quickly so he stood up and without thinking he pushed his pantyhose and panties down his legs until they bunched together in a silky gathering around his shins.

In the silence of men's room Brian Davies heard the occupant of the adjacent cubicle unzip and drop his pants. He heard the crackle of paper being unfolded and assumed that the guy was putting one of the disposable paper toilet seat covers on the seat. He hoped the guy would hurry and do his business so and then fuck off and leave him in peace to finish his newspaper.

Brian heard the man stand up again.

'Fuck! What's with this guy?' he thought to himself.

He glanced at the partition separating the cubicles and looked down. Brian nearly choked at what he saw. The faggot in the cubicle next door pulled a pair of flesh-toned pantyhose and white satin panties down his legs and sat back down! Brian was dumbfounded; and then even more so when he heard the unmistakeable sounds of a man masturbating.

Mike was acutely aware of the slapping sounds he was making in the silence of the men's room as his hand feverishly wanked away at his cock. He didn't care because he knew he wouldn't take long. Mike only just had time to drop the picture and grab a handful of toilet tissue and shove it into his crotch before his throbbing penis expelled copious ropes of hot semen.

Mike gasped and sucked in and out huge lungfuls of air as his orgasm washed over him. He caught all of his emission in the wad of toilet paper; and the cleaned up his slowly deflating penis and then stood up and carefully pulled up his pantyhose, smoothing the wrinkles out of them as he slid them up his legs. He pulled up his panties and adjusted his cock inside the layers of nylon and satin so that his slowly shrinking erection was not too obvious, and then pulled up his pants. He flushed; and then left the men's room after washing his hands.

If Mike had not been breathing so heavily when he was masturbating or in such a hurry to leave after he had finished masturbating he might not have been found out. As it was, Brian Davies was able to get a good look at his shoes under the cubicle partition and when the phantom masturbator left the men's room Brian checked out the cubicle and found the picture of the two transvestites on the floor where Mike had dropped it. He put the picture in his coat pocket.

Brian Davies would recognise those ugly brown Oxfords anywhere! They belonged to Mike Harris. Now what was he going to do with this delicious titbit of information? Mike Harris wore women's clothing under his work clothes and liked to masturbate to pictures of transvestites!

"Hmmm; there are some possibilities here," he said to himself as he made his way back to his office.

As team leader, Brian Davies had his own office. He looked out the glass walls into the large open-plan office where his team worked and watched that skinny runt Mike Harris pack his pathetic belongings into his briefcase and then turn off his workstation and leave the office. Brian opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a bottle of single malt scotch whiskey and poured himself a large drink.

He sipped his drink and watched the office quickly empty as his team left in dribs and drabs in a hurry to get home for the weekend. Some of them called by to say goodbye and he tipped his glass to them, barely acknowledging their presence. He was thinking and plotting.

He had planned to leave early himself but was now determined to stay at work until everyone had left for the day. Once they had, he punched up a spreadsheet on his computer screen which listed all of his staff's logins and passwords. He made his way over to Mike Harris's workstation and fired up his computer and logged in.

Mike Harris was a fucking idiot! He worked for a publishing company, sitting at a computer all day but wasn't smart enough to cover his tracks on his computer!

Brian perused Mike Harris's internet browsing history and then pulled up his temporary internet files. Mike Harris had accessed dozens of transvestite sites on his work computer. Using the Tools menu Brian clicked Folder Options and displayed the hidden files on Mike's computer. Two hours later he had looked at over a hundred pornographic pictures of transvestites having sex with each other. What surprised him was that he sporting a throbbing erection!

Brian did not in anyway consider himself a fag.

"Goddamn; some of those trannies look sexy as hell," he said to himself as he adjusted his erection in his pants to make himself more comfortable.

He absentmindedly rubbed his cock through his trousers and continued to browse the images until he came to the end of the files in the folder. Then he found a sub-folder called 'video'. He opened the folder and double-clicked the first file. A heavily-built transvestite in full makeup, blonde wig, red bustiere, black stockings and high-heels was between the legs of a slender transvestite dressed in white satin and lace. The larger transvestite held the legs of the other transvestite far apart whilst she thrust her long thick cock in and out of her anus.

He was thinking of these transvestites as 'her'. They dressed in sexy clothes and wore lots of makeup and sexy lingerie, stockings and high-heels. They were sexier in some ways than most of the women he knew. His cock was throbbing as he watched the video repeat itself in an endless loop.

Brian rummaged through Mike Harris's desk drawers looking for some tissues when he saw something a lot more interesting. A skerrick of coffee-coloured nylon poked out from under a file cover. He gently tugged at it and single nylon stocking unsheathed itself from its hiding place in the bottom of the drawer.

Brian looked around; the office was dark except for the glow of the computer screen in front of him; the overhead lights worked on a timer and it had clicked over and turned the lights off promptly at 7:00pm. He checked again to see that no one was around; the cleaners wouldn't be in until 9:00pm.

Sweating a little in anticipation, Brian Davies opened his flies and freed his throbbing cock. He slid the nylon stocking over his member and stroked it with long slow strokes whilst his eyes remained glued to the screen.

He managed to stroke his cock six times before the material of the stocking darkened and then a gobbet of white cream formed on the outside of the stocking where his penis pushed against the fabric. The gobbet continued to grow forming a large globule of warm semen, the globule swelled as his cock throbbed and his scrotum contracted, emptying the contents of his sac.

Brian shuddered and gasped until he was spent. He wiped his shaft with the sticky stocking and then wrapped it in his handkerchief and put it his pocket. He zipped himself up and then went his office and came back with a flash drive. It took a few minutes to copy the contents of Mike's hidden files onto the flash drive. He then opened Mike's Outlook folder and downloaded all of his email contacts. He removed the flash drive and smiled evilly to himself.

He shut down the programs he was running and returned Mike Harris's computer to the same state that he had found it in and then logged off.

Brian would be having words with Mike Harris; but he hadn't quite decided what he was going to with him yet.

That evening and all of the next day Brian sat in front of his home computer looking though the files he had downloaded from Mike Harris's workstation. He became fascinated and entranced by the images of the transvestites. They wore sexy skirts and blouses made from silk, taffeta, lace, nylon, lycra and satin. They wore sexy lingerie: bustieres, garter-belts, suspenders and diaphanously sheer nylon stockings or pantyhose and silky panties. Their makeup was heavy and feminised their male features such that most of them could pass as real women unless you looked very close. They wore high-heels: pumps, sandals, court-shoes and boots.

"They dressed how women should dress!" Brian said to himself.

As part of the company management he sat on the 'office administration board' and had been at the meeting last year when the company had reviewed its dress code. Some of the women employees had complained it was too strict and not up with times.

The result had been that the bare-legged, pantsuit-wearing, minimal-makeup, flat-heeled, comfortable-shoe, brigade had won out and most of the female staff now wore 'comfortable but appropriate office attire' to work. Appropriate!!! One of the secretaries even had the cheek to wear khaki walk shorts to work last summer; and the bitch hadn't even shaved her legs!

Few of the women in the office now wore skirts, hosiery, or high-heels to work. There was one exception however.

Carolyn Jones was the office manager. She was fifty-ish; and sexy in a matronly sort of way. She always wore nice business suits with skirts to that came to just above her shapely knees or skirt and blouse combinations that showed a bit of cleavage. She always wore hosiery and heels; and her makeup was perfect, her raven hair was carefully coiffured, and she smelt wonderful.

Last year she had turned up at the office fancy-dress Christmas party wearing a bright red satin 'Santa's helper' outfit which consisted of a tight dress with a hem that stopped at mid-thigh, a matching Santa hat, bright red high-heeled sandals and shiny taupe pantyhose. Brian had spent most of the day hiding a boner under his desk with his eyes glued to her tight ass and long legs. Carolyn Jones might have been old enough to be his mother but she was sexy as hell!

Later, as the party was nearing its boozy completion, she had cornered him under the mistletoe and drunkenly demanded a kiss. Her bright-red lipstick tasted lovely and she had surreptitiously slipped her tongue into his mouth a little, pressing her body against his as they kissed. Brian squeezed her ass and she had reached between their bodies and slowly squeezed his hard cock just once.

"You wish!" she had whispered breathlessly into his mouth and then broke away laughing and disappeared into the crowded room.

Everyone was drunk and Carolyn had flirted with some of the other men at the party so he had never followed up on the incident but the memory had fuelled quite a few wanks.

Now that was how women should dress! Like Carolyn Jones; not like some Hillary Clinton wannabe in pantsuits; or barelegged and 'cankled' in drab peasant-skirts and boring cotton blouses.

The transvestites in the pictures and videos he had found on Mike Harris's computer dressed like he believed women should; and he thought of the transvestites as women not as men. Even when they displayed their cocks! In fact seeing these women dressed up all sexy, with a boner sticking out from under their skirts made them all the more exotic and erotic.

He had masturbated so often over the course of the weekend that his cock was sore and the stocking he had stolen from Mike Harris's desk was now a sodden mass of laddered nylon.

By Sunday afternoon he was determined that he would have meet one of these sexy transvestites in the flesh. He didn't want to see the trannie transform from a man to a woman; he wanted to see her post-transformation. He didn't think that he would even want to touch her; he was no fag! But he wanted to see one up close and see if they were as appealing as they looked in the images on his screen.

He idly opened up another hidden folder, this one labelled: 'Michele', and flicked through the images. The transvestite in the images was attractive but the images were boring compared to the other X-rated files he had looked at. They were just pictures of the tranny, who obviously called herself Michele, dressed in different outfits. She was attractive and had great legs but she wasn't having sex with anyone like the trannies in the other pictures.

Brian was juts about to close the file when it hit him like a ton of bricks! The attractive transvestite on the screen before him was no one other than Mike Harris! Fuck! He looked closer at the image and sure enough it was Mike! He was totally feminised in the pictures and looked very attractive but when he looked very hard he could see it was Mike alright.

He sat back in his chair as a plan began to develop in his mind. By dinnertime that night he had his scheme hatched; he could hardly wait for tomorrow!

Mike Harris spent most of the weekend dressed as Michele Nylons, his transvestite alter ego.

Mike had started dressing in lingerie in his teens. During puberty had become fascinated with his mother's and sister's hosiery and underwear. He liked the feel, the smell and the look of the delicate garments and had initially just caressed and sniffed the various dainty articles that he surreptitiously stole from the laundry basket; he had then progressed to masturbating with them and had finally graduated to wearing them. He loved the feel of the sensuous attire against his skin and liked to look at himself in the mirror dressed in panties, hose and bra.

One day he even slipped into a pair of his mother's high-heels and had stood in front of her full-length mirror admiring himself, naked except for a pair of his mother's black satin panties, matching bra, taupe sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose and red high-heels.

His mother had come hope early and caught him.

"You naughty boy! I wondered who had been staining my underwear and ruining my best sheers!" she exclaimed and stormed into the room.

She sat down on the bed and pulled him roughly towards her and threw him over her knees.

"Now you'll get a spanking; just like I would give to a little girl who has been naughty," she hissed, and bought the flat of her hand down on his buttocks.

His bottom burned and he cried with pain and humiliation. He was mortified and distraught.

"Please don't tell daddy," he begged as his mother flailed away at his reddening cheeks.

"Oh shut up you sissy!" his mother replied, counting the strokes as she spanked her son's pantied ass.

After a while the pain subsided and much to Mike's chagrin he became aware that he was getting an erection. The feel of the satin panties rubbing against his penis, intensified by the feel of his mother's warm, nylon-clad thighs, overcame any feelings of discomfort.