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When TE came out with the newest
in strong, form fitting control panties, it was huge news in the lingerie world
– finally a “sexy” control panty! (They
weren’t sexy but since we were selling them at TE, everyone just assumed they
would be).
We had a few different
styles, available in basic colors (white, black, and nude). Some were standard granny panty look-a-likes,
some had a seam up the butt crack to “separate your cheeks”, some when down to
your knees, and some went up to just below your bra line – lots of options, depending
on the area you were trying to battle. We
would enthusiastically mention them if anyone expressed even the slightest interest
so we could build a bigger sale (they were expensive - $20 to $49 a pair). It was tricky though, since no woman wants
someone to suggest to her she might want to purchase a pair of stomach sucking
panties…but that’s where the crossdressers came in.
God bless ‘em, the crossdressers
are a specific bunch and do they know what they want. Sure, the padded push-up bra is number one on
their list, but next up are control top panties. And not just any control top panties, but the
kind you have to shoehorn yourself into – the kind that, when you’re wearing
them, you just don’t drink or eat anything because taking them off to go to the
bathroom is wayyyyy more trouble than it’s worth. So, needless to say, our new control panties
rocked their world.
The crossdressers started
visiting our store in droves. Okay,
maybe not in droves but enough started coming in that, once we had “ascertained”
our target, we could anticipate what they wanted, expertly steering them over
to the control area before they even had a chance to awkwardly ask where to
find the goods. After several successful
crossdresser control panty sales, I got up the nerve to ask my next crossdressing
customer (who was in terrific shape – stomach as flat as a board) why HE needed
control panties – he was so thin!?
(Maybe this seems obvious to some people, but in my tender first years at TE, it had not yet occurred to me the problem a penis could present to a properly cross-dressed man).
He leaned in, and with a wink
said, “Sweetie, it’s not the stomach
that’s the problem,” and with his left hand made a smoothing motion over his nether
region.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”
