Victor felt odd unlocking the door and stepping inside, he had driven past the house a thousand times and for some strange reason, it was now his. He had never actually met the old man but had seen him countless times toiling quietly in his yard, trimming the hedges, weeding the flower beds, and mowing the expansive yard with the antique push mower, Mr. Francis was a local icon, if only for his immaculate yard.

Victor knew why but still didn’t understand, the lawyer had explained it all very clearly, it had been three or four years ago, Victor was working for his dad, as he had been since he was old enough to tag along, doing odd jobs at first; go get me this tool, no not that one, that one. He had slowly learned the business, landscaping and general contracting and grew to enjoy it.

Returning from a small job, he had driven past Mr. Francis’ home just as he did almost every day, this time the old man was nowhere to be seen, in fact, his yard needed to be cut badly and the hedges were looking a bit rough, there were even a few dandelions.

For no real reason other than it just didn’t look right, Victor pulled over, took his mower out of the bed of his truck, and went to work, it took the rest of the day with Victor only stopping to take a drink from the water hose on the side of the house and once to adjust his hair into a slightly higher ponytail to keep it off his neck. When he was done, the yard was back to its immaculate normal, the hedges were neat and the dandelions gone, he had even cleaned the pool. With a smile on his face, he packed up and headed home, exhausted.

The next week, Victor drove by, and the old man was back at it, vigorously tending to some begonias around a large tree off to the side of the front porch, all was right in the world once more, until a few years later when Victor got the call from Mr. Francis’ lawyer, the old man had died in his sleep and left everything to Victor.

The house was immaculate inside as it was out, the large living room sparsely decorated with vintage furniture fed into a dining room with a beautiful cherry table and chairs. The kitchen had been modernized, whoever had done the work had made sure not to disturb the aesthetic of the old house. A sunporch covered the back of the house, looking over the pool and the huge back yard.

The rest of the ground floor was taken by a small office or library and a large master suite, an ornate king-sized bed dominated the space, a large bath, also modernized and a huge closet, one short wall was filled with business suits, black slacks and white shirts, Victor thought about it and he didn’t think he had ever seen Mr. Francis in anything else as he worked in his yard, the other three walls, dresses, skirts, and other feminine clothes, these must have been Mrs. Francis’ things that the old man just hadn’t been able to part with. Upstairs were two more bedrooms with a shared bath and a sitting area with a huge bay window overlooking the backyard.

The only thing out of place in the entire house was a single pair of heels, simple black with a wide heel and a little strap across the front, Victor seemed to remember his mom having a pair that she called her Mary Janes, they were in the middle of the floor, one laying on its side, its strap undone, they looked so lonely, almost like they were lost, Victor righted the fallen shoe setting it carefully next to its sister and went back out to his truck to start bringing his things inside.

The lawyer had been very specific, that one act of random kindness had convinced Mr. Frances that Victor deserved his estate. A few ambiguous relatives had tried to protest, but lost, it was Victor, the old house, a more than modest trust, and vague memories of an old man he had never met.

Except for the house, Victor had fought for everything he had in his life, even his position at his father’s company, he had learned at an early age to stand up for himself, hit fast, hit hard, and if that didn’t work, run like hell.

He had always been shorter than the other boys and he liked to hang out with the girls, mostly because they were smarter than the guys. In elementary school, it hadn’t been a big deal, at least not until fifth grade when Tommy Miller hit a growth spurt and started terrorizing the class. One day he picked Victor, pushed him off the swing he was on and stood over him, daring him to do anything about it, Victor came up fast and hard, a knee to Tommy’s crotch was followed by a fist to his nose.

Tommy doubled over, clutching his crotch with one hand and his nose with the other as blood covered the sand. Both boys were suspended for two weeks, and Victor had learned the first part of the lesson, he learned the second half the next day when Tommy recruited two sixth graders to help him get payback, they were bigger and with their longer legs, faster, but Victor was quick as a rabbit and just as shifty, they never caught him.

For the rest of his suspension, Victor went to work with his dad, it was the first time of many. As the other boys grew and Victor didn’t, he started to rebel in other ways, he grew his hair out and experimented with drugs a bit, which got him in a different kind of trouble.

Middle school was worse, all the boys and many of the girls were taller than Victor, their teasing was merciless. High school was no better, he still wasn’t growing, had no facial or body hair. His friends were all girls, but there was never a girlfriend. The guys were brutal, with Tommy Miller in the lead, they shoved him in lockers and tossed him in dumpsters. He fought back with everything he had, doing his share of damage, and collecting his share of suspensions.

By the time he graduated, he was all of 5’6″ and 125# with long auburn hair, green eyes, a newly expunged police record, and a huge chip on his shoulder just begging to be knocked off. The funny thing was, he would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.

The suspensions had grown into a summer job and then a full time one. The one place Victor felt he got the respect he deserved was at work, he knew his way around a landscaping job or a construction site as well as anybody and could fix just about anything, his dad had made him a crew chief as a result.

He had expected to put those skills to use on the old house, but it was immaculate, except for that one pair of shoes.

Victor emptied the first ice chest into the refrigerator and the second into the freezer, he was not going to be hungry, his mom had made sure of that. He started on the closet in the master bedroom, meticulously packing Mr. Francis’ clothes into boxes for the trip to the Salvation Army and replacing them with his own. On a whim, he slipped one of the suit jackets on, it fit perfectly. By the time he had dropped off the last box, it was late, and he was hungry and tired, he would tackle the bright soft fabrics in the rest of the closet tomorrow.

His stomach led him to the kitchen where he made a couple of sandwiches, grabbed a beer, and went to sit by the pool, no, his pool, it was going to take a while for the whole thing to settle in his mind. The night air felt good, the birds in the trees welcomed him to his new home. He took a deep breath, trying to take in the scents and smells of the night and realized he needed a shower, and badly.

The shower took a while to figure out, six control valves and five nozzles, two on each end of the shower and a massive rain-flow head above him. Once he got the spray he wanted and the temperature set, he grabbed the first bottle of body wash he found, squirted a big glob in his hand and started scrubbing, the delicate floral scent of lavender filled his head.

Pausing for just a minute, he decided what the hell and kept going, it smelled nice. He turned around and saw the simple bar of soap and the bottle of Head and Shoulders at the other end of the shower, oops.

Maybe the body wash, shampoo, and clothes belonged to Mr. Francis’ girlfriend, but if that were true, why didn’t she get everything? “Oh, well,” Victor thought to himself, “it’s not worth worrying about anymore anyway.”

Victor dried off and took a long look at himself in the mirror, his mom often commented that he should smile more, “no nice girls are going to date you if you look mad all the time,” she would say, and she was right, he was pissed that he was so short, he was angry that his small hands sometimes made it difficult to do his job, and if you really wanted to see him mad, just mention his cute butt or tell him he looked like a girl.

He worked hard and it showed, there was no fat anywhere on his body, lean and taut, it was just small, “too small for a real man,” the last guy he had gotten into a fight with had said, he wouldn’t say it again, at least not to Victor’s face.

Grabbing a pair of boxers out of the top drawer without thinking, Victor started to slip them on, the silk and lace running up his leg felt nice, dammit, wrong fricking drawer, he tossed the pink panties back where he had accidentally found them, turned around and took some boxers out of the drawer on the other wall. Shorts and a t-shirt were next, and he was good to go. There had been a T.V. in the office and a movie would be just the thing to help him relax, or so he thought.

Taking a deep breath, he smiled at himself for the lavender and lace missteps as he headed for the closet door and tripped over the heels he had left in the middle of the floor. He picked them up and looked for the spot they obviously belonged, “I mean everything in this whole house had a spot, right?” He thought to himself.

The shoes were black and had a brogue accent on the toe and a matching heel cap, , he knew what a brogue was from ‘The Kingsman.” The heels weren’t too tall, and they were kind of cute, “mom would love these,” he smiled. There was no spot for the shoes, so he set them down a little more out of the way and headed downstairs to grab one more beer and see what he could find on the television.

His plans fell apart when he discovered there was no cable, there was however a DVD player and a vast collection of documentaries on gardening and flowers. “What the hell,” he said it out loud, popping the case on a DVD called ‘The Preparation and Care of Begonias’, how bad can it really be, he laughed to himself.

There was no intro, the video started with an attractive young lady explaining to her teacher why her assignment was late, offering to do anything, sex literally dripped off the word anything the way she said it,” Mr. Francis; you sly old fox,” he leaned back in the chair behind the desk and sipped his beer. It was porn, raw and plain, the dialog was horrible and the photography almost as bad, but the man was hung like a horse, and the young girl was stunning, when she took the massive piece of meat all the way down her throat, Victor spewed beer across the room. When the man lifted her up and placed her on his desk, gently pulling her panties down her slender legs, exposing her tiny little penis, Victor choked, grabbing the remote, knocking it on the floor, scrambling to pick it up and hit the power button, or was it the pause button?

When he looked at the screen, instead of blank it was a closeup of the young girl with the man’s horse-cock all the way inside her and a small stream of liquid shooting from her tiny cock, she looked like she was in ecstasy. This time he made sure he hit the power button and the screen went dark, he put the DVD back in its case and for some reason, instead of tossing it out, put it back on the shelf where he had found it.

“Mr. Francis; you randy old goat,” he laughed as he chugged the rest of his beer and decided to just call it a night, that huge king-sized bed did look comfortable. For once since he had gotten into the shower, he had been right.

Laying there going over how crazy this whole thing was, he ran it all through his mind, the call from the lawyer, the challenge from relatives that new less about Mr. Francis than Victor did, moving in, the porn, and those stupid shoes, where did they go? It was driving him crazy, he threw his covers off and went back to the closet, if they could have the shoes would have laughed at him.

Victor picked them up and looked at them closer, size ten, same as his mom; same size as him, he had borrowed some sneakers from his mom more than once. Undoing the remaining buckle, he set the shoes on the floor, took a deep breath, and stepped in, they fit perfectly. Fastening the straps one at a time, he half stumbled to the dressing mirror and looked at them on his feet, he could feel his heart starting to race, they looked nice, no not nice, that wasn’t the right word, they looked cute.

He looked at the wall behind him, dozens and dozens of pairs of shoes, heels, boots, sandals, all different styles and colors, did he dare? He took the Mary Janes off and selected a pair of bright red stilettos with what must have been six-inch heels, wobbling back to the mirror, he was as confused as he was excited. Next were the knee-high boots, and then the strappy tan sandals with the short heel, he went on and on, before he knew it the floor was covered with shoes, and he was giggling like a little girl.

Slowly and delicately, he put his new treasures back in their places until the only pair left were the black Mary Janes that had started it all. Smiling he crawled back in bed and passed out.

Over breakfast he tried to justify what had happened, he couldn’t, there was no rational explanation for how those shoes had made him feel. All he knew is he wanted to feel that way again. He cleaned up the kitchen and went back to the closet. Standing there looking at the shoes, trying to decide which ones he wanted to wear, his eyes drifted back to the dresser, what other wonders might there be?

The top drawer was panties and bras, next were tank tops and silky tops with thin straps, Victor thought they were called camisoles but wasn’t sure, the third drawer was full of stockings, all different shades, and a wonderland of socks, some plain and some with frilly lace at the top, next were t-shirts, then nightgowns, and finally shorts and swimsuits. A wonderland of dresses, skirts, pants, and pretty tops filled the rest of the wall, Victor ran his hand across them letting the soft fabrics caress the tips of his fingers, vaguely aware of the movement in his crotch.

His hands trembled as he slowly pulled the top drawer open, selecting the pink panties he had grabbed by mistake last night, he stepped in and let out a sigh as they slid up his legs to replace the boxers now laying on the floor. They were just tight enough that they held his penis in place, not that it was all that huge anyway, another thing that had always bothered Victor. His mind flashed back to the girl in the porno he had found, he could feel himself blush, she had been about the same size as him.

Running his hands over the satin and lace, he took a few deep breaths soaking up the feeling of the soft fabric against his skin. There was a bra, just as pink and lacey, with a matching pattern that caught his eye, could he do it, did he dare? Another deep breath, another big sigh and he slipped it around his chest. After a few attempts and ultimately putting it on backwards and sliding it around, he adjusted it, so it was comfortable, admiring how the padding gave him modest breasts.

Victor’s mind was spinning, he wanted to look at himself in the mirror but was too afraid to, so he opened the next drawer, more satin and lace, a pink camisole slid over his shoulders and down his body, Victor had found heaven on earth, the delicate fabrics kissed and caressed his skin in ways he never thought possible, goosebumps raced across his arms and legs. “This can’t be real, it can’t be happening,” a small voice in the back of his head called out. Victor closed his eyes and sighed softly, “but it is,” he said it out loud as a smile crept across his face and a moan escaped his lips.

The stockings he chose had sticky elastic bands in them that held them up on his thighs, it took three tries to find a dress he felt right in, and thought would go with the shoes he had finally decided on. He slipped on the low heels and turned to look at the finished product, a huge knot growing in his stomach as doubt screamed from the back of his mind.

Victor didn’t recognize the person looking back at him, first, she wasn’t angry, she was smiling, her face was relaxed, her big green eyes shown with something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Modest breasts and a slender waist were complemented by slim hips and very nice legs, the stockings hid what little hair she did have. All in all, she was cute, and he liked it, all of it; mostly he liked how he felt when he saw her smiling back at him.

A quick spin, giggling as he watched her, a mix of emotions welled within him as he stared at the girl in the mirror, was this right or wrong? Why did he like it so much? Did it make him gay? And what if someone found out, what would he do then? Part of him was terrified and another part could not have cared less, all of him wanted more information.

Unfortunately, his laptop was behind the seat of his truck and even if he had it, he didn’t have internet, he found his phone and called the cable company, they would have a technician out tomorrow morning. For today, he could do whatever he wanted. First things first, he looked around the room, the closet was a disaster, outfits everywhere, dresses and skirts scattered across the floor, at least a dozen pair of shoes mixed in, pants and tops and various items of lingerie added flashes of bright colors here and there.

There was an obvious system to the closet with everything having a specific place, except for those stupid Mary Janes, Victor laughed at himself as he frowned at the shoes. Once everything was in place, it was just a matter of what he wanted to wear, the skirt and top were nice, but did he really want to wear stockings and heels for the rest of the day?

Victor eyed the clothes in the closet, he could play some more dress-up but that would mean having to clean up the closet again if he got carried away, and he knew he would. Instead, he opened the bottom drawer and chose a simple bikini, black with purple and pink flowers, the top had just enough padding to make him look like he had boobs, the bottoms weren’t too skimpy but skimpy enough that it showed off just the right amount of his butt; he was just going to hang out by the pool and relax. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to do anything like that.

He grabbed a few beers, set Pandora on his phone to his Jimmy Buffett channel and headed out to do nothing for the entire afternoon. He swam some laps and just laid in the sun, relishing the feeling of the warm rays as they slowly cooked his body. Several beers and several hours later he realized that he had missed something important, as he got in the shower to rinse off, he spied himself in the mirror, his tan lines were obvious.

Old Victor would have been furious, new Victor just laughed and decided that going shirtless at jobsites wasn’t going to be his thing anymore, some scented aloe lotion took the sting out of his sunburn, he pulled on a cotton sleepshirt and ordered a pizza, not caring what the delivery guy thought when he paid him at the door.