My Neighbor’s Secret Plan Read online

  My Neighbor’s Secret Plan

  Illustrations by Avaro

  Chris and I became friends almost immediately after he and Denise moved into the house next to ours. Julie and I had been living in the neighborhood for about a year already and although we felt

  ‘settled’ we never really felt connected to anyone. That is…until our new neighbors arrived. The neighborhood was just outside of the city, far enough away to retain its small-town charm, but close enough for those, like us, who didn’t mind an hour’s commute. We would all pile into our cars and hit the interstate every morning, then repeat the drive home to our sleepy little town each night. But we would never interact – we all just kept to ourselves. I didn’t even know my neighbor’s names until Denise and Chris moved in.

  Both Denise and Chris worked in the city like Julie and I did, at least…before I was ‘downsized’.

  With the economy the way it was, my firm felt it was a good time to shed some salaries – why they chose to shed mine I’ll never know. Shortly after moving in a similar thing happened to Chris. It was actually how we started to get to know each other. I was cutting the lawn one afternoon when he came home from work – early. He had a dreadful look on his face…a look that I had seen before only a month ago, on my face.

  He shrugged when I asked him how he was doing, as was a customary greeting for guys.

  “I’ve been better,” he muttered, “I just got canned. I can’t believe that I just got canned.”

  “Canned?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you know…canned, sacked, let go…” he paused and looked up as if composing himself,

  “Fired.”

  “Oh shit,” I said, suddenly wishing I hadn’t asked, “you too?”

  My words seemed to almost perk him up, “You got fired?”

  “They called it an indefinite layoff,” I chuckled, “Now I like to say that I am working from home.”

  He chuckled, “Yeah, I guess I’m working from home now too”

  “I’m Glen by the way…” I extended my hand for him to shake.

  “Chris” he replied as he gave my hand an anemic pump. I’d let him off the hook for that one, he did after all…just get canned.

  “Hey, you want a beer?” I asked.

  And that was the beginning of our friendship.

  We took a short walk down the street, chatting all the way, to the little pub I had always looked at but had never attended. Like I said, I had been sleeping in this little town, but never really ‘living’

  it in.

  I had suggested to Julie one day that we should check out some of the local establishment, but she would always snicker with a snotty tone. Julie never wanted to move to the ‘burbs’. She as a big city girl…to the core.

  “You’ve got beer in your fridge,” she would say as she rolled her eyes, and then complain that she missed her favorite restaurants back in the City.

  But Chris…he understood the concept of grabbing a beer, or two,…or three, at the ‘local’ watering hole. So the two of use ventured into the pub and had a few, while I told him all about becoming a house husband. I complained and complained about having to clean the house, doing the laundry and having to cook most of the meals while my wife was working in the City to support us.

  “She’s started to call me her live-in maid” I scowled between sips of my beer, “I hate it when she calls me that.”

  I could see Chris’ eyes looking very worried, “I’m kind of in the same boat, man,” he muttered, then took another swig from his frosty glass, “I wonder how long it’ll be before she starts calling me the maid”

  I shrugged, but as fate would have it, it wouldn’t be very long.

  I spent the next several weeks ‘scouring’ the internet when I wasn’t ‘scouring’ the bathroom, trying to find a job. But my labor proved to be fruitless. There was simply nothing available – well, in fairness, nothing available that would satisfy my requirements for a base salary – and I was only searching in a very small radius, as I didn’t want a long commute. I figured I could be picky, as I still had a few months left to survive on the severance package that I was given. And even after that, with some belt tightening around the house – I knew we could survive on Julie’s salary alone.

  I was explaining this fact to our neighbors one evening while Julie and I were over for dinner. We were all sitting around the living room swapping stories of men being unemployed while the wives were working. Both Denise and Julie were mocking Chris and I quite badly, but Denise was

  absolutely relentless.

  “I make enough that, if need be…Chris could continue to be the maid,” Denise gloated, “And I’ll continue to be the bread winner.” We all chuckled together at the statement, but admittedly; Chris looked at more than a little uncomfortable with her statement.

  “Although,” she continued, “if he works as my maid much longer, I might want to get him to look the part.”

  “Oooo, good idea,” Julie laughed as she turned towards me with a devilish glint in her eye, “I think I’d get the same for Glen.”

  Chris and I looked at each other, laughing nervously. It was joke…right? I kept telling myself that, as the idea of Julie trying to squeeze me into a French maid’s costume was quite unsettling.

  “Well Glen…” Chris finally said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m certainly not in any hurry to dress up like a maid for my wife. I sure hope my job interview pans out this Thursday.” It was obvious that he was trying to stand up for himself a little…but to no avail, Denise was very clearly the ‘Alpha’ in their relationship.

  Denise grinned proudly and nodded, “Chris has an interview for a management position”

  “Management?” I asked, looking impressed. I knew that most companies were shedding their

  managers, not adding them. I was a tad bit jealous of him for finding that posting… how did I miss that one?? ...I wondered to myself.

  “Or any other job opening he might have…” Chris piped up as he glared at his wife, “Hell, I’ll pick up the dry cleaning if that’s what they want.”

  “Whatever you like dear,” Denise smiled and rubbed his knee, then turned to Julie with a scowl,

  “They just better offer you something or you’ll be living as my little live-in maid.”

  “What was that?” Chris asked with an offended tone in his voice.

  “I said I’ll love you no matter what happens,” Denise chuckled as she grinned at Julie.

  “What’s the name of the company Chris?” I asked.

  His and Denise’s smiles melted slightly and he shifted in his seat, “Oh…I don’t want to jinx anything Glen…let’s just say it’s a good company to work for”

  I nodded in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

  “I’m sure that Chris will get you an interview if he gets hired,” she smiled at me, then grinned at Julie.

  Chris forced a smile, “You mean when I get hired”

  “Well I sure do wish you good luck Chris,” Julie chimed in, “And if you can get Glenny a job too that will just be the icing on the cake…otherwise he’ll just have to be my live in maid too.”

  We all nodded in uncomfortable silence again. I hoped she was kidding, but something told me that she might not be.

  -*-

  A few days after our dinner with the neighbors, Julie had loaded up my task list with dusting and vacuuming, cleaning and polishing nearly every-single-day. I told her I was going to wear to the carpet down to the subfloor if I kept vacuuming that much, but she just told me, essentially…to shut up and keep working.

  Later still, she produced a ridiculous white apron for me to wear. I initially refused…for several days…unti
l I could not bear to deal with the icy glares and cold shoulders she was giving me.

  “Fine!” I finally shouted loudly as I slipped the apron over myself, “I’ll wear the stupid apron!” I had to shout, because Julie was reading in her room while I was dusting in the living room. She came scampering out in time to see me put my mp3 player’s earpieces back in and carry on with my work. I could see her in my peripheral vision smiling from ear to ear as I performed domestic chores.

  How humiliating.

  I prayed that Chris’s interview went well and that he would have a job offer for me too, so that I wouldn’t have to be subjected to any more of this ‘torture’.

  But it didn’t, and I would.

  Thursday, the day of his interview, came and went, and several other days passed also, before I had the opportunity to check in with him to see how the interview had gone.

  “No dice,” he sighed as we grabbed a beer at the local watering whole one afternoon. “Apparently they’re re-evaluating the kind of candidate they’re looking for…b ut if anything changes, they’ll let me know.”

  “Meaning?” I asked.

  “They probably filled it internally,” he sighed again, “You know how these big multinationals are...they’re required to post it externally, but they already have someone in mind when they do”

  “Geeze,” I replied, “That sucks. I had hoped something would have worked out for you.”

  “You and me both man,” he nodded, “Denise was pissed. She told me that a real man would already have a job. That a real man wouldn’t allow his wife to support him. She told me that I obviously wasn’t a real man and took all my…” His face suddenly went red and he closed his mouth.

  “Took all of your….?” I asked, “All of your what?”

  He gulped and looked around to see if anyone else was within earshot, they weren’t. Then he leaned forward and said -very quietly, “You can’t tell any one, okay?”

  “Tell them what?”

  He sighed then continued, “Tell them that she took all of my boxers away. Said that if I wasn’t a real man that I didn’t need to wear real man’s underwear.”

  I chuckled, “That’s it?? That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? Denise’s making you go commando? That’s no big deal man.”

  He shook his head, “No, that’s not it Glen…she isn’t just making me go commando.” He paused for a moment then quieted his voice again, “She um…shaved me…you know…down there.” He

  pointed down at his groin.

  “Again…what’s the big deal? It sounds kinda kinky…don’t you…”Chris cut me off, “She shaved me down there…and…” he looked anxious as continued, “she, um…replaced all my boxers with

  ….”

  He rolled his eyes as if I should know…but I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  “Dude, I haven’t got a clue what you are talking about.”

  “Panties Glen!” he blurted out, “She’s making me wear f-ing panties man! You know…girls’

  underwear?? She said that if I wasn’t going to act like a real man, that I wasn’t going to dress as a real man either.” I tried not to let a smile form on my lips…’cuz to me it was kind of funny.

  “It’s not funny man. I need to get an f-ing job or I don’t know what she’ll make me do next.”

  “Well…” I said finally, “As much as I want to be supportive buddy, as long as she doesn’t give my wife any bright ideas…I frankly don’t care what she does next.”

  Chris scowled at me, “Oh thanks, it’s good to have supportive friends like you…”

  “Oh come on,” I replied, “It’s just a ‘thing’ you know? A phase…she’ll grow tired of it soon enough, you’ll see. You’ll get your boxers back.”

  But that sadly, would never happen.

  -*-

  “Really?” Julie said after Denise told the entire story of Chris’ pantying over again.

  We were all sitting around the patio at our house, chatting and enjoying a few summer ‘beverages’

  when Julie and Denise began to talk quietly amongst each other.

  “Really.” Denise whispered, “And in fact I think he might even like it a little. I’ve caught him playing with himself while he was putting them on the other day.”

  Chris’ face turned a deep crimson. As quiet as the two girls were trying to be, we could clearly hear every word. It was probably intentional.

  “Well I don’t think he has anything to be ashamed of. Panties are so much more comfortable then boxers anyway…” Julie came to Chris’ defense.

  “I know!” Denise exclaimed, “He should be thanking me”

  Julie then turned to face me, “And you make a very good point Denise…why should they get to dress like men if they don’t act like men.” Her glare cut into me like a knife into butter, “Isn’t that right Glenny?”

  I sighed and blushed, knowing that she was about to let out her highly competitive side, and that anything that was going to be good enough for Denise to do to Chris, she was going to do to me.

  I had seen it a hundred times. She not only had to be as good as everyone else around her…she had to be just a little bit better.

  I just looked away…but I knew that something would happen soon.

  And it did.

  A few days later I discovered a drawer full of high-cut panties where my boxers had once been. I was shocked and embarrassed but not the least bit surprised. I knew Julie well enough to know that once Denise had done it Chris, it was an open invitation for her to do it to me.

  The high-cut panties, were -according to Julie- just a little more girly than the regular cut panties that Chris was wearing. And the colors…black, red, pink and light purple, were a whole lot more girly than the whites and beiges that Chris was supposedly wearing. And to go one step further again…instead of just shaving my groin…she called me into the bathroom what night and shaved everything from the waist down, and further instructed me on how to do it myself from now on.

  “From now on??” I cried.

  Her face took on a stern expression “You got yourself into all of this…so all you need to do to get out of it is to show me that you are a real man who looks after his wife…and get a job.

  Understood?”

  “This isn’t my fault,” I lamented, “I didn’t ask to get laid off Jules!”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at me, “In the wild…do you think a real man tells his wife… its not my fault the caribou migrated…there’s nothing we can do about having nothing to eat for the winter…”

  “What?” I exclaimed.

  “You heard me Glen,” she scolded, “This is something that should be written into your DNA…you should instinctively want to protect and provide… show me that you want to protect and provide for me…”

  I sighed and nodded obediently, “Okay…okay…I’ll get a stupid job…”

  “It shouldn’t be that hard Glen,” she continued, “Get a job, support your wife, and you can have all your boyish boxers back…and be as hairy as you like.”

  I nodded, and spent the remainder of the day, sending out as many resumes as I could manage.

  I didn’t want to wear panties any longer then I had to. So if Julie wanted me to be a hunter and gatherer, than that’s what I would be.

  -*-

  A couple of weeks later I was cutting the grass, with the ridiculous old-school reel mower that Julie had purchased for me. She argued that I could use the gas-powered mower again, when I could afford to buy the gas to run it. It was already a hot day, made worse by the fact that I was wearing a pair of long pants. I didn’t dare wear shorts outside, for fear of my smooth, hair-free legs being spotted by someone in the neighborhood. I had seen how my legs looked in the mirror after they were shaved, and it wasn’t pretty. Or rather…it was pretty, and that was the problem. I was just finishing up when I saw a very dejected Chris returning home from an interview. This one, like all the others, was supposed to be
a sure thing. By the look on his face, I could see that it wasn’t. I waved at him and made the hand gesture for drinking a beer. He nodded and headed towards me.

  Soon the two of us were throwing a couple back in the garage.

  “So how’s it going?” he asked.

  “I was going to ask you the same,” I replied, “How’d the interview go?”

  He shook his head and looked down before taking another swig of beer, “It didn’t. I’m not

  qualified…or I’m over qualified…I don’t know anymore. It’s the same thing every time.”

  “I know what you mean,” I nodded and took a sip of my own beer.

  “And to make matters worse, it feels like these friggin’ panties are constantly riding up my ass all the time.”

  “Try cutting the grass in them!” I blurted out.

  “I have!“ he chuckled, “ It’s been non-stop ever since Julie told Denise about your high cuts and shaving your legs and what not. She’s so competitive, you know? She went right out and got me all new underwear.”

  “Oh, great” I said as I swigged my beer, “Your wife is like that too huh?”

  “Yup,” he nodded, “You have no idea” He shifted around in his seat, “These friggin’ things are one step down from a thong I think.”

  I nearly spit out my beer at that comment. If her was one step away from a thong, than I had better get a frickin’ job before Julie found out.

  -*-

  “Honestly,” Denise lamented a few days later, “If it wasn’t for his being such a good maid…I don’t know what I would keep him around for.”

  We had gone over to their house for dinner, and Denise was –again-expressing just how

  disappointed she was in her ‘Chrissy’ for failing yet another job interview. “I just don’t know how much longer I can put up with having such a sissy around the house” she muttered loudly.

  “Where is Chris anyway?” I asked finally after not seeing him around.

  Denise stood up, smiling…and walked to the far side of the room, “Oh Chrissy!” she called. The sound of clunking footwear from across the house started to get louder, until a forlorn – looking Chris appeared in the room.