Womanless Pageant Show (F/M)

[bfe8]

“C‘mon, you have to do it! It’s for a good cause anyway!” Sarah implored me while grabbing my wrist across the table.

Sarah was my girlfriend, a pretty and slim girl with reddish blond hair and dainty features. She was in her standard home outfit of a gray hoodie and black joggers. I was in a similarly casual outfit.

It was a Monday afternoon and we were sitting at the round dining table in my one-bedroom apartment doing homework together. It was nearing the end of the semester of our Junior year, so I was trying to force myself to focus more on schoolwork. Having Sarah there actually kept me on track as she was a good student. However, today she didn’t seem as inclined to study.

“No way in hell,” I shot back. “I am not going to embarrass myself in front of the whole school just to help your sorority raise a few bucks! There’s plenty of other ways to fundraise.”

Sarah’s sorority, Alpha Zeta, was hosting what was known as a ‘Womanless Beauty Pageant’. I had never heard of these events but after a quick google search, they seemed to be a weird tradition across the American South. The actual event was scheduled for this weekend but they seemed to be having a hard time wrangling contestants. Understandably so.

“Do you not care about kids with Autism? Do it for Lionel! It’s not like it costs you anything!”

Sarah had asked me repeatedly over the past couple of weeks to be a contestant. Basically it involved dressing up as a woman and performing a skit of some sort.

I had refused each time but this time Sarah bringing up the name of my autistic cousin was a cheap shot to my emotional side. I reluctantly agreed, but only for Lionel’s sake.

Sarah’s eyes lit up and she let out a little squeak of joy.

“I’m so excited! Ok don’t worry I’m going to set you up with everything you need!” Sarah began frantically typing away at her computer.

“I’m registering you now. What do you want your stage name to be?”

I had no ideas.

“How about Amanda Fae?” Sarah asked.

“Sounds like a stripper but I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

Sarah continued typing on her computer. “Ok, you’re registered. We don’t have much time before the event, but this place has an appointment available this afternoon!”

“What? What place?”

“I’m going to book you this 1-hour dress fitting session for 2pm. It’s the cheapest place in the area but it seems like they have good reviews.”

I rolled my eyes and checked my watch. The appointment was less than an hour away.

“Okay but I’m going to need a wig and stuff too right?”

“Already on it!” Sarah replied cheerily. “Got us a wig session booked tomorrow after your last class. I’ll also get you set up for your performance!”

“I don’t even know what I’m gonna to for my performance!” I wasn’t particularly skilled in anything, especially something that I would be fine showing a large audience.

“I’ve actually been thinking about it a bit, and I think you should do a magic trick!”

I was confused. “But I don’t know any magic tricks.”

“Don’t worry, remember Hannah from San Francisco?”

I did remember. It was hard to forget being dressed as a girl and getting tied up by Hannah in front of hundreds of people at a shibari convention.

Sarah continued. “She did this trick back in high school. Basically it’s like Houdini but without swallowing handcuff keys and paper clips and stuff.”

“So an escape.” I remembered the last time I was in an escape challenge, at that same shibari convention. I wouldn’t say it was a particularly fond memory but it was not something I would easily forget.

“Yeah, but instead of using real handcuffs, you can get these ones that release easily with a press of a button. They look just like the real thing! It’s a super easy trick.”

I was about to say no way again, but Sarah cut me off. “Oh we gotta go! It’s almost time for your dress fitting!”



The dress shop was walking distance and we arrived around 10 minutes before our appointment. Sarah leafed through colorful racks of full-length gowns, while I was lost in the sheer quantity of fabric surrounding me.

When I turned back to Sarah, she had already picked out a number of gowns, of various colors and cuts.

“Ah I see you’ve made some selections already!”

Sarah and I looked up to see a stocky woman in her sixties walking up to us. She was in a black suit and had a name tag that said Margaret.

“Are you my 2pm appointment for Sarah?”

Sarah replied. “Yep that’s us, but actually my boyfriend here will be the one getting fitted.”

“Oh I’m sorry, we only have dresses here, no menswear.” The lady made a facial expression that said ‘I’m sorry’.

“Oh that’s alright! He’s going to be trying on dresses today. He’s a contestant in a womanless beauty pageant!”

Margaret looked confused, and shrugged. “Okay then, come with me.”

She turned around and walked towards the back of the store. Sarah and I followed, with Sarah holding the pile of dresses in one arm.

Margaret led us behind a curtain in the back of the store to the fitting area. It was a surprisingly large space and brightly lit. There was a circular stage in the center of the room, with a semicircle of tall mirrors surrounding it. To the left of the stage, a runway around 30 feet long extended towards a fitting room.

“Young man, could you please stand up on the stage? I will need to take some measurements.”

I complied as Margaret wrapped a flexible tape measure around various parts of my body.

Margaret spoke as she wrote down the measurements on a clipboard. “For your body type, I would recommend something with an empire waist with an A-line silhouette.”

I looked blank.

Margaret finished writing and turned to Sarah “Let’s see what you’ve picked out for him. I think those colors will look great on him.”

Sarah showed the first dress she had picked out. It was a deep purple gown that had spaghetti straps and a cowl neck.

“Excellent choice! There’s some shoes he can use next to the fitting room as well.”

Sarah ushered me to the fitting room and waited outside as I changed into the dress. The dress was extremely long and I had trouble finding my feet to put on the demo shoes.

The heels outside the fitting room were an assortment of silver, white, and gold. However the shop only had one pair of shoes in my size . They were silver five inch heeled stiletto sandals. I had never worn such intimidating shoes in my life and I genuinely feared for the safety of my ankles.

I buckled the shoes on my feet nervously and got up. I could feel my ankles wobble slightly but the hem of the dress was lifted off the ground such that at least I wouldn’t trip on the dress fabric.

“Ok now let’s see your best catwalk!” Margaret called from across the room. Sarah smiled encouragingly as I stepped onto the catwalk and timidly walked forward.

“He’s gotta learn to walk in heels before he is a real beauty pageant contestant!”

Sarah laughed. “He’ll get there, don’t worry!”

I was so focused on balancing that I didn’t even bother saying anything. I could see myself walk as I approached the circular stage with the mirrors. The dress I was wearing was pretty, but I couldn’t help but notice my masculine arms. While I was not particularly muscular, the pairing with the dainty straps and exposed nature of the dress just looked wrong.

“I don’t like the way my arms look in this,” I said.

“You’re right,” Margaret observed. “Let’s get him into a cold shoulder and see if that helps.”

Sarah dug through her rack of selections from earlier and pulled out an emerald green gown.

As I unsteadily headed back to the fitting room, I heard Margaret call out to Sarah.

“Here, try this. It’s a tool I used to use to train models how to walk on a catwalk. I know it looks… different, but it’s really useful. You’ll just want to tighten these buckles as much as you can.”

I finally arrived at the fitting room where Sarah handed me the green gown to change into. She was also holding something that looked like a bundle of black belts all attached to each other.

After a few minutes, I emerged from the fitting room wearing the gown. It had little strips of sheer ruffled fabric draped over my shoulders and upper arms, which masked my muscle definition nicely.

As I was about to step up onto the catwalk, Sarah told me to wait.

“Hold up, Margaret says I need to put this on you to help you walk.”

“Ok.”

Just was I said this I felt my hands pulled behind me and straps close in around my elbows, tightening them together. I felt Sarah buckle the strap tightly. I thought this was weird but I felt my shoulders roll backwards and my chest open up. It really did help my posture.

Sarah buckled another strap onto my wrists, pulling them tight. Finally, Sarah tightened a strap around my neck, pulling it tight such that my head was forced upwards.

The ‘tool’ effectively tied my body such that I couldn’t move my arms at all, nor could I look anywhere by straight forward. It felt like some sort of bondage apparatus. However, I saw my reflection in the mirror and couldn’t doubt the effectiveness of the straps. I now had the posture and poise of a fashion model.

“Much better,” chirped Margaret. “Now let’s see a strut! And sway those hips!”

I ventured onto the catwalk. I was even more wobbly as I couldn’t see my feet, but eventually made it to the center stage.

I had to admit, I looked good. The dress was beautiful and flowy. The layered chiffon moved gracefully with my every step. The hem of the gown just barely brushed the floor in front of my heels. The emerald color looked perfect on my skin tone and the cold shoulder straps hid my masculine frame very well.

“We’ll just need to take in the waist a little bit I think.” Margaret was looking me over. “But everything else looks great!”

“Yep that’s the one, it’s perfect!” Sarah looked excited. “You may want to practice walking though, that definitely is gonna lose you some points if you don’t learn to walk in stilettos.”

Margaret checked her watch. “You’ve got plenty of time left, feel free to use the catwalk all you want. I’d recommend he practice for as long as possible. You’ll eventually want to be able to walk until you can do it with your eyes closed. I used to make my models do it blindfolded.”

After around 20 minutes of walking up and down the catwalk with my wrists, elbows, and neck fixed behind me, I felt much more comfortable on the heels. I had even learned to sway my hips slightly with the direction of Margaret. However, I was feeling quite exposed and helpless.

“Okay, can I be done now?” I asked Sarah.

“Let’s see if you can do the next step, then we’ll be done.” Sarah pulled a sash from one of the dresses. It was black and silky.

“Oh no, we don’t have to do that,” I said, backing away.

“I highly recommend it, it will really help your confidence!” Margaret piped in, looking up from her phone.

I groaned as Sarah tied the sash around my eyes, blindfolding me. I could only see a slimmer of light below my nose, but the strap on my neck prevented me from looking down.

Sarah positioned me so that I was walking down the catwalk and guided me as I practiced walking. After about ten more minutes, I was comfortable walking in the heels, even while blindfolded and tied up.

“Looking great!” Margaret commented on my progress.

“Yep, I think you’re good now,” Sarah said, undoing the blindfold and unbuckling the straps holding my arms and neck.

I let out a sigh of relief. My chest and shoulders were sore from my arms being strapped behind me but I did feel my posture improve.

As Sarah and I walked home from the dress fitting, I was feeling a bit better about being a contestant in the pageant.




It was Friday afternoon, the day before the pageant. Sarah had ordered a bunch of stuff online that shown up on my doorstep in the past couple of days.

For my main outfit, Sarah had ordered jewelry in the form of silver bedazzled necklaces, bracelets, and clip on earrings, a pair of silver sparkly stiletto heels, and a pair of elbow length satin gloves to accompany the emerald green gown. Margaret from the dress shop had taken in the waist of the dress slightly and now it fit me like a glove.

I had tried out several wigs at a specialty wig shop a few days before and Sarah and I had selected a brown wavy wig with hair reaching just below the neckline of my gown.

For the magic trick, she had ordered two pairs of ‘trick’ handcuffs. They were a bit flimsy, but they looked real enough. One pair of handcuffs was hinged, without the links of chain connecting the cuffs. The other was a normal one with one link of chain in between.

“One for your wrists and one for your ankles. Easy! Don’t worry, we’ll practice,” Sarah assuaged me.

Sarah had also gotten a hula-hoop sized ring with a cylinder of satin material hanging off it. She explained that I would stand inside of this during the escape while she held it up, hiding what I was doing to audience members.

The rest of the afternoon I spent practicing. Sarah watched as I perfected my feminine walk in the stilettos she had ordered for me. I didn’t wear the gown to practice for fear of wrinkling it before the event.

I also practiced escaping from the handcuffs. It was easy enough, as there was just a little button on one side that I could press and the handcuffs would drop off. I would then kneel and pop off the ankle cuffs.

It seemed like a design flaw that the release button was only on one side, as it was necessary for Sarah to put the handcuffs on me facing the right way down so that I could reach the button with my fingers. But we practiced over and over again and she never messed it up.



Saturday morning came and I felt ready for the pageant. I was confident in my walk, the wig and clothes I would be wearing, and my handcuff escape skit.

The pageant started at 10 am, so Sarah and I had woken up early. She had stayed the night to make things easier in the morning.

We ate breakfast hastily and then Sarah packed everything we needed to get me ready in a bag. Jewelry, makeup, shoes, gloves, wig, and the handcuffs. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Sarah also threw in a couple coils of rope and a black silk scarf.

“What’s that for?!” I asked, alarmed.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s really gonna help sell your skit more. I’m just gonna tie some rope around your legs that should just slide off.” Sarah didn’t stop getting ready. I knew better than to argue at this point.

The pageant was in the school theater, which was around a 10-15 minute walk from my place. Sarah had prepared a garment bag so my dress wouldn’t get wrinkled. I was made to carry the garment bag and the hula hoop curtain thing.

Sarah had already gotten dressed for the pageant. She was wearing a black pantsuit and bow tie as was customary for this type of event. The Alpha Zeta sorority sisters were expected to dress in formal menswear to introduce the contestants and to help with their skits.

When we got to the theater, it was still an hour before the event was scheduled to start. However, there were some other contestants already there getting ready. I noticed most of the other guys had ugly and ill-fitting dresses and messy shiny wigs.

Sarah sat me down in front of an empty mirror and began applying makeup to my face. She then helped me plop the brown wig on top of my head, clipping it to my existing hair and brushing it to give it some volume.

I then changed into the gown. Sarah helped zip up the back and adjusted the spaghetti straps slightly. I stepped into the silver heels and Sarah knelt at my feet to buckle them.

Sarah picked out some jewelry and fastened a silver rhinestone layered choker around my neck. Next she put on several silver toned bracelets, finishing up by clipping a pair of dangly shiny earrings onto my unpierced ears.

For the final touch, Sarah slid the white satin opera gloves up my arms. They were slightly elastic and reached just above my elbows, hiding my masculine hands.

I looked in the mirror and couldn’t believe my eyes. I was totally transformed, and I thought I actually looked quite beautiful. Sarah had done a very good job at picking everything out. I felt like a princess.

As I sat admiring myself, I heard someone in the room announce a 15-minute warning before showtime.

I turned to look around the room and saw only six other contestants. It seemed that all of the other contestants had also been persuaded by their sorority sister girlfriends. I recognized a couple of them, faces I had seen at parties.

Most of the other contestants had just thrown on an ugly dress, donned a cheap wig and heels, and called it a day. A couple others had makeup applied to them in unflattering shades.

Some were practicing their skits. One was juggling, another was practicing dance moves, and yet another was solving a Rubik’s cube. I noticed a saxophone on another contestants’ dressing table.

I tried to remind myself that neither the costume nor the skit were a big deal and everything was being done for charity, but a rare competitive side of me wanted to win and be crowned victorious.



Soon it was go time. I was told that I would be walked up by Sarah. Once on stage, the MC would then ask me some questions such as what Autism means to me and why I was competing.

I was third up to be introduced. I heard the noise of clapping for the first two contestants. But when Sarah walked me out, I got quite nervous.

The theater lights were blinding, but I could make out dark outlines in the rows of seats. The room was surprisingly full, and the sound of applause and whistles that greeted me made me pause at the back of the stage.

I tried to smile and walk effeminately as Sarah walked me to the front of the stage by my elbow. My gown swirled around me as I walked, floating just above the surface of the stage. Sarah let go of my elbow and retreated towards the back of the stage.

I looked over to the MC podium and saw Emma, Sarah’s sorority pledge master smiling at me. I wasn’t sure whether to feel afraid or angry towards Emma after she had kept both me and Sarah hogtied in the sorority basement on Halloween.

Emma’s long dark hair and pretty features contrasted with the drab I’ll-fitting men’s suit she was wearing.

Emma began introducing me as my contestant name, Amanda Fae. I smiled more and waved at the audience.

Emma then walked over to stand next to me, microphone in hand. Emma’s voice through the microphone echoed through the entire theater.

“So Amanda, why are you competing today and why is Autism an important issue for you and the world?”

I was about to joke that Sarah had made me compete, but I decided to talk about my cousin Lionel. It seemed to work as the audience clapped loudly after I was finished.

I waved to the audience again as Emma directed me to leave the stage.

Four more contestants were introduced and interviewed before the first half of the pageant concluded. The skits were next and I was third up.

When I got back to the dressing room, I saw Sarah had laid out the materials for my skit.

I was soon next to perform my skit. I followed the juggler and the saxophonist. I didn’t think it was possible to play a saxophone out of tune but the contestant somehow succeeded.

Sarah made me hold the handcuffs, saying it gave off ‘Miss Congeniality vibes’, while she carried the scarf, rope, and hula hoop curtain.

I heard Emma announce my ‘Escape Magic Trick’ skit over the microphone. As I walked out dangling the two handcuffs from my gloved finger, I felt a single stage light illuminate my figure. The audience made a collective “Ooh” sound.

I tried to sway my hips as I walked a loop around the stage. Sarah had placed her materials on the floor in the center of the stage. I gave her the handcuffs, which she held up to the audience and tugged to show they were solid metal.

Sarah then clapped the hinged handcuff onto my right wrist. The cuff made a convincing clicking noise as she tightened it.

Next, Sarah spun me around so that my back was facing the audience. I felt my wig hair and dress flare out as she did so.

Sarah pulled my wrists together and tightened the cuff on my left wrist. My hands were effectively pinned behind me. As I had the opera gloves on, I wasn’t as worried about getting marks on my wrists.

Sarah then nudged me slightly, indicating I should walk another loop on the stage showing my binds to the audience. Upon returning to the center of the stage, Sarah knelt and lifted the hem of my dress. She tightened one of the cuffs on my ankles. I had to move my other foot a little closer for her to attach the other cuff.

I felt a bit unsteady on my four inch stilettos with my feet cuffed so close together and my hands cuffed behind my back.

Sarah began wrapping ropes around my chest and waist, tying them off without cinching. Her knots weren’t especially tight so I thought I would just be able to shrug the chest ropes then untie the rope around my waist.

Finally, Sarah blindfolded me. There was nothing I could do to resist without sabotaging my performance and my chances at winning the pageant. I smiled as Sarah tied off the blindfold behind my head.

Sarah helped me do a spin. It was slow going as my ankles were handcuffed together and my heels were not the most stable. The blindfold made it even more difficult to keep my balance.

I was left standing handcuffed, tied up, and blindfolded in my green cold shoulder gown, stilettos, wig, jewelry, makeup, and gloves. I wished I could have seen myself.

The audience applauded.

I could hear Sarah pick up the hula hoop and I felt the silky material of the curtain fall around my immobile body.

“Okay we’re on! Let’s see if Amanda can escape!” Emma announced over the microphone. I felt Sarah begin shaking the hula hoop (which she had told me would hide my movements within).

I immediately went for the release button on the cuffs binding my wrists. I reached my gloved fingertips upwards, feeling around the metal of the handcuffs. The satin gloves were slippery and I felt my fingers fumbling as I searched for the release button. My movements grew more desperate as I realized the button was not there.

Sarah had put the handcuffs on me with the release button side facing upwards. I tried to contort my fingers to get to the button but it was hopeless. I continued trying for several minutes, but there was nothing I could do to free myself.

Suddenly I had an idea. If I could somehow use my stiletto heel to press the handcuff release button, I could release myself without ruining my performance.

I squatted down, reaching my wrists down to ground level. I was extremely wobbly, with my ankles tied and my eyes blindfolded.

I was able to press the release button on my ankle cuffs, allowing me to lift my feet.

However, I soon realized that the angle at which my wrist cuffs faced were too parallel to the heels of my shoes. No matter how much I tried lifting one heel to press the release button, it would simply slide off the button.

I realized my plan was a failure and decided to try to let Sarah know. I stood up, but I didn’t realize I was stepping on the hem of my long gown.

Before I knew what was happening, I lost my balance and fell.

I spun and crashed backwards into the floor, taking the hula hoop curtain with me. I couldn’t brace myself as I fell since my arms were still tied to my chest with rope. I was fully engulfed in silky fabric. I heard the audience gasp.

I realized I had fallen on my handcuffs and my wrists were hurting from having my body weight crushed on top of them.

I writhed on the floor, trying desperately to free myself from my binds and the folds of satin.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” I heard Sarah ask. I felt her tugging at the curtain, trying to get it off of me.

Eventually, Sarah guided the hula hoop off me and undid my blindfold.

“Are you okay??” Sarah asked again.

I nodded, blinking at the stage lights as I saw the stage curtains close, separating me from the audience. Sarah and Emma helped me sit up.

“You put my cuffs on the wrong way Sarah!” I whispered angrily.

Sarah looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m so sorry! I must have lost focus for a moment.”

“Can you just get these ropes and cuffs off me?” I wanted this disaster to end sooner rather than later. I knew I had lost any chance of winning the pageant following this dismal performance.

Sarah untied the ropes around my chest and waist while Emma undid my ankle cuffs. Sarah then began fussing with the handcuffs.

“The button doesn’t work!” Sarah began frantically pressing the release button.

“What do you mean it doesn’t work??”

“It’s all bent out of shape. You must have fallen on it. I can’t get it to open!” Sarah kept trying desperately to free my hands. Emma gave it a go but was similarly unsuccessful.

“Just give the audience a curtsy and try to get them off in the dressing room,” Emma said. She and Sarah helped me to my feet. As the stage curtain opened up to a confused audience, I felt my face redden.

“We’ve had a bit of an equipment malfunction, but please give a round of applause for Amanda Fae!” Emma announced through the microphone to loud applause.

I could feel my wig hair in a mess as I bent one leg behind the other and dipped. The audience continued to clap as I walked, still handcuffed, off the stage and back to the dressing room. I tried to hold my head high despite the total embarrassment of my failed performance.

Once I got to the dressing room, Sarah continued trying to get the handcuffs off me. It was no use. The material had bent so out of shape that the locking mechanism was mangled together, preventing release.

“I guess we could call the fire department,” Sarah said, sighing.

[Fandango]

[mention]bfe8[/mention] Great to have you back. I've missed your stories and this crazy and entertaining couple. Wasn't sure if I would see another entry. Glad you came back strong.

The beleaguered narrator's reticent selflessness and consistent haplessness combine nicely with Sarah's giddy, manipulative enthusiasm to make one of the more entertaining dynamics that I see on this board. I enjoy the world building and the call backs to their previous adventures. And love to see past characters like Emma return to the narrative.

The narrator is one of my favorite characters on this board. And Sarah is certainly one of the more fascinating ones.

However, unlike our chronically trusting narrator...Sarah may have already fooled me one too many times. She's probably not going to be able to convince ME that her strapping the cuffs on backwards was an "accident".

I hope you keep up the great work. You're very talented.

[tiedinbluetights]

Wow, absolutely amazing story, and I've learned something too! I wasn't aware of Womanless Pageant shows, or for that matter, Womanless marriage rehearsals.

And I've always fantasized about being 'permanently' locked into handcuffs or other bondage gear, unable even for my captors to set me free, not without an embarrassing explanation to EMS.

Thanks for sharing [mention]bfe8[/mention] !

[Kyle]

We did one of those "womanless beauty pageants" as a fundraiser in middle school. I had no idea it was mostly a thing in the South. I don't remember anyone doing skits, though, it was just like a gender-flipped beauty pageant.

No one got tied up like this, either. Which was unfortunate, as it would've made the night a lot more memorable.