Andy woke up, like every other morning, at 7:30, in his apartment where he lives alone. But he prepares to get dressed, and he discovers a pair of women's underwear in his underwear drawer. He has no idea how it got there. It's a very sexy pair of panties: frilly and silky and very feminine. But he can't account for it at all. He's never seen it before in his life. He has no girlfriend. He does his own laundry. How could it have gotten there? He hides it under his regular underwear, in hopes that no one finds it.
Weeks pass. Andy has forgotten about the underwear. He wakes up again, as per his routine, and discovers that his own underwear is missing. It has been replaced with women's underwear. Not one scrap of men's underwear remains. He has no idea what to do. He can't very well go around wearing that. He decides to go without underwear for today, and to buy some later. He takes the panties out of his drawer and throws them in the trash. Then he reconsiders, and stuffs them under his dresser. Out of sight, out of mind.
Weeks pass. Andy can't forget about the underwear. Once was bad enough, but the loss of all his underwear was eerie. He couldn't account for it. It was very strange. But life goes on. He goes to his dresser again, and lo and behold, his underwear is gone again. Only this time, there is nothing to replace it. Angrily, he slams the drawer, and puts his pants on. Again, he buys more underwear that evening to replace the mysteriously disappearing underwear.
A week passes. Andy keeps a wary eye about his apartment. He makes sure that all his doors are locked, all his windows are locked, and checks to make sure that his underwear is still there every night. He opens his dresser drawer, and is shocked to see that his underwear is gone again. He buys more that evening, at a different store, to avoid suspicion, and sets up a video camera to record to survey his dresser all day and all night.
The next day, he wakes up to find his underwear drawer empty again. He feverishly checks his video tape, and finds nothing. He can't afford to keep buying underwear. He puts on his pants, and vows to live underwearless.
A week passes. Andy has a rash around his balls. He needs the underwear to insulate his crotch. He can't walk around without underwear anymore. He has no choice. He pulls the women's panties out from under the dresser (surprised to find them still there), picks the least feminine of the bunch (a difficult choice), and puts them on. To his surprise, they are quite comfortable. He feels silly wearing them, but realizes that nobody has to know. Nobody will know. He shoves the rest of the panties (at least 10 pairs) back under the dresser.
Every day, Andy wears women's underwear. But he realizes that he can't wash them without looking suspicious, because he frequents a laundromat. So he drives across town, and makes sure to go when it's the least busy. He is very discreet about his panties.
Weeks pass. Andy has developed a routine for putting on women's underwear in the morning. His rash is gone. He still keeps them under the dresser. Now he wakes up to discover that he has a brassiere in his dresser, and no undershirts. He picks it up angrily, and stuffs it under the dresser. He pulls out a pair of girl's panties at the same time and puts them on. He wears no undershirt today. Or the next day, or the next. The bra sits under his dresser collecting dust.
A week passes. Andy can't stop thinking about his predicament. And about his panties. He used to sleep with his underwear on, but stopped that practice when his own underwear disappeared. After a short while, he was so comfortable in his panties that he kept them on at night, too.
A few weeks pass. Andy notices that his sexual practices begin to change. He no longer masturbates in the shower, but he rubs his penis against his bedsheets, to his immense pleasure. He does this naked, with the panties in his hands, fantasizing about a girl wearing them.
A week passes. Andy gets hornier and hornier. He starts to realize that taking off his panties to masturbate seems anti-climactic. He keeps them on, and imagines his dream girl wearing them instead of him. He experiences the orgasm of his life. He quickly removes the panties and begins sleeping naked again.
A few days pass. Andy is extremely horny. He needs to masturbate. He can't do it in the shower anymore. He rubs up against his bedsheets imagining that he's wearing his panties. He feels guilty when he's finished, but nonetheless glad to have felt so good.
A few more days pass. Andy feels an overwhelming desire to wear those panties again to masturbate in. He curbs his desire for as long as he can, then he yanks them out from under the dresser, slips into them, and writhes in extraordinary pleasure. He finishes, and stuffs them guiltily back under the dresser.
A month passes. Andy loves to masturbate with his panties. He starts thinking about the effect that they have on him, and it worries him severely. He can't stop himself from doing it. He goes to pull his panties out from under the dresser, and finds the bra instead. he looks at it closely, and begins to tremble. he gets a pair of panties, and puts them on, and the bra. They just so happen to match. He has the orgasm of his life.
A few months pass. Andy loves to wear his panties all the time. He still keeps them under his dresser, and is careful at the laundromat. He starts growing his hair. He feels it looks sexier. It makes him feel better. Some mornings, he feels kinky, and wears a bra to work, as well as the panties. He is certain that no one has noticed yet.
A month passes. Andy transplants his panties and bra to his underwear drawer. The next day, more bras appear in his underwear drawer. His heart jumps, he almost blacks out with anticipation. He welcomes his new brassieres, and wears a different one each day.
A month passes. Andy is content to have women's underwear on under his normal clothes. He wakes up one morning to find a miniskirt in his closet. He wears it that evening, in private, to see what it's like. He likes the feel of it, tight on his body. He likes the way it airs out his crotch. He does not like how it exposes his ugly leg hair. It makes him feel silly. He masturbates in it, and puts it back where he found it.
Several months pass. Andy finds new clothes replacing his old clothes quite often. Shirts become blouses, t-shirts become tight tops, and pants become skirts, and suits become dresses. He can't wear them in public. People start to ask him why he wears the same suit all the time. He begins to shave his body to feel more feminine in his skirts and blouses and sexy tight tops. Even his jeans have been replaced with feminine cuts.
A week passes. Andy discovers that he has not a scrap of male clothing left in his wardrobe. He blushes, and puts on a dress, and goes to work, hoping that no one notices. He comes home unemployed.
The next day, he goes to the local store, wearing tight, form-fitting jeans (women's jeans), a pretty, smooth, skin tight top that accentuates his fake tits, and a pair of women's shoes. He styles his hair androgynously. It is quite long now. He goes to the store to buy some lipstick and eyeliner. He finds a way to take hormones to make his body become more female. He has no choice now but to become female. He does all this with a bit of reluctance, but with nerve-shaking anticipation. He is proud to now walk around the city, dressed entirely as a woman, acting like a woman. And he still has no idea how this happened to him. And he loves every minute of it. He buys lingerie now, and bathing suits, bikinis, shops in women's clothing stores, uses the ladies' room. He grows tits, and a waist, and his voice raises an octave. But he still has a penis. He hates his penis. It is a vestige of his former self which he wishes to eradicate. . . if only it weren't so pleasurable to masturbate with a silky teddy and a garter belt on! But he still loves girls. he still wants girls. He gets a sex change and becomes a perfect lesbian.