Becki had only just slipped her panties over her tight chastity cage, when she heard a loud clatter in the corridor. Paranoid she looked round to check that the shutter to her storage room was properly pulled down. She wished there was an easy way to lock it from the inside. With her current living arrangements, her space at the Big Pink Box storage facility was the easiest place to dress and play with her toys.

At home in her rented room she had to be a normal guy with drab clothes and a humdrum routine, but here, on Friday nights, she could be Becki, surrounded by her feminine wardrobe and her full length mirror.



Was that the sound of footsteps? Yes, someone was rattling at each of the shutters in the corridor in turn. She began to panic. Would they check her door? Empty and unlocked storage units were usually left with their shutters up. Even when users of the facility were around, the shutters were usually up in this corridor. Becki couldn’t afford one of the larger units with electricity or permission to use for More than just storage. Instead she got dressed to the light of her battery camping lantern.

The inevitable happened. There was a knock on her shutter.

“Everything OK in there mam?” Came a deep booming voice.

“Um…” she looked around for any place to stand that might shield his view if he opened the shutter. “Yes thanks.” She used her most feminine voice. Deciding that standing facing away from the door was her only option.

In her rush to turn to the perfect position she tripped over a shoe box and before she knew it, she was under a pile of cascading boxes. Her lantern smashing to the ground, leaving her in darkness.

The shutters rolled up loudly and a bright torch beam searched her out in the tiny room.

“Oh goodness, are you alright, let me give you a hand.”

Becki felt her book and magazine boxes being lifted from her. She wondered what she looked like sprawled on the floor in a pink satin blouse and short pleated skirt. Self consciously she smoothed her skirt over her bottom realising she had probably flashed him her panties and stocking tops.

“No. I am fine Sir”, she said. “Nothing too heavy.”

“Nonsense, that big box was full of magazines. It must have weighed a ton before half of them spilled out.” A large hand came into view in offer of help. As she reached her knees, she realised in horror her crossdressing and sissy magazines were strewn all over the floor.

She ignored his hand and stood unsteadily kicking the magazines to one side with her high heels. She kept her head bowed so he didn’t have a clear view of her face under her brunette wig.

He was standing uncomfortably close, and his wide tall frame seemed to block out the light from the door. His torch was dimmed, laying inside the now half empty box that had contained her pornography collection.

“Nothing broken Sir,” she said retrieving his torch and handing it back to him, so that he wouldn’t look inside the box.

“Thank you mam,” he said, pointing the torch towards the floor. “Now promise to be careful in here, and I will be on my way. These particular units are not insured for recreational activities.”

“Yes Sir I promise.” She looked down to the floor. A magazine title ‘Chaste Sissy Maids’ was illuminated by his torch. His huge boot was resting on a rare copy of ‘Panty Boy Dominance’.

As if following her gaze he stepped back half a pace and stooped to pick up the magazine.

“I am sorry mam,” he said straightening up. “I do hope I am not damaging your books with my big clumsy feet.”

“No, don’t worry,” she said, hastily gripping the magazine. “No damage done.”

He maintained his grip on the book, leaving her tugging on it forlornly.

“I hope none of your lingerie got damaged,” he said. “Perhaps I should inspect those pretty stockings of yours for ladders. For insurance reasons. I can only imagine how protective panty boys can be of their lingerie.”

“No thank you sir,” she said trying to keep her voice from betraying her nervousness. “I am sure everything is fine.”

“Everything is certainly not OK.” He stepped toward her again, making her take a half step back herself. She found herself pressed against her mirror. “Like I said, these units are not insured for recreational activities. I should throw you out on the street right now. Put you out in the cold in your sissy finery.”

“No please,” she said, imagining walking home in this outfit. Her skirt hardly covered her stocking tops, and her heels were three inches high. She would look like a cheap streetwalker. Despite herself the idea made her aroused. Her cage began to feel tight.

“Well the way I see it, I have a responsibility to make sure nothing is damaged,” he easily pulled the magazine from her grip and leafed through it. “This sissy looks like she will have a bruised arse after that guy has finished with him. I wonder what a sissy would do to avoid that kind of punishment. I bet, in the privacy of her storage unit, she would be very accommodating.”

Before Becki realised what was happening, the security guard tugged the shutter back down.

“There, nice and private again, just as you like it,” he said placing his hand on her shoulder. “I wondered what you did in here, every Friday night, regular as clockwork. Hardly anyone comes to this place on Friday. Now I know. You play sissy dress up. What else do you get up to in here? I bet you have a dildo somewhere, maybe a whole collection of naughty toys. Is this what you fantasise about?”

He turned the magazine towards her. There was a picture of a sissy kneeling before her master, giving him a blow job.

“No sir,” she said feigning shock. “Never.”

“Well, I am within my rights to inspect your unit’s contents after an accident,” he said placing the magazine back in its box. “I bet I would find some very interesting things in some of these boxes.” He shone his torch around, settling on the open bag of lingerie.

“Please sir,” she said with rising desperation. “There is no need for that.”

“Okay,” he stepped backwards again before turning and opening the shutter. “I am sure we can come to an arrangement. Pretty thing like you. Why don’t I finish my rounds, go back to my desk and forget all about your accident report.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” She said relived.

“And in twenty minutes time, when I am finally reminded of my duty as a security guard and reach for the incident book, perhaps a pretty sissy in cock sucking lipstick, all dressed up in her cutest outfit, maybe a nice pink dress,” he said pointing his torch at her satin maid’s dress hanging in the corner, “will come knocking on my door, and distract me. Ask me if there is anything she can do to make his evening less stressful. What do you say?”

“Yes sir,” she said, already picturing which lingerie would look best under the wide petticoats of the dress, and wondering where she had put her makeup bag.