One day, when my mother sent me to my sister’s room with a pile of her laundry, my curiosity got the better of me and I borrowed a frilly nightie. Wearing it was as horrible as I’d imagined, and it looked as bad as I’d expected… but it was somehow strangely frilling too. I replaced the nightie before it was noticed missing and felt relief that I hadn’t been caught by my mother or sister, and that I’d satisfied my curiosity.
A few days later I saw the girl at the skatepark in her usual trainers, cropped pants and sweatshirt, with her hair hanging loose and no make-up. I brought up the subject of her girlie outfit, but without teasing her. I said it must be horrible being a girl having to wear ‘all that stuff’. She said she liked being a girl… but agreed about ‘all that stuff’, adding that it was only once in a blue moon that she had to dress like that. I pointed out that she’d also have to wear a skirt everyday for school too, and that must be equally horrible. She said she could wear trousers for school if she wanted to, but quite likes wearing her skirt, it’s plain and short and comfortable… especially in the summer
I couldn’t really fathom why, as a tom-boy who hates all that girlie stuff, she chooses to wear a skirt for school when she could wear trousers. I pondered the concept, but not by choice mind… I didn’t like wondering what it must be like wearing a skirt for school instead of trousers, but for some reason, I just couldn’t help it. There’s only one way I know how to get rid of these thoughts and when the first opportunity arose, I took my chance.
“Perry!” my mother shouted from the hallway.
“Yes?” I replied from the top of the stairs.
“I’m just taking Jemima in to town… you’ll be OK on your own for a while won’t you?”
“How long will you be?” I asked.
I felt my heart begin to race as I watched the car disappear down the road. I had about an hour before they returned. Within ten minutes I was dressed in my own school shirt and tie, with my sister’s tartan skirt and a pair of thick black tights on, along with my own school shoes. My legs looked and felt so different clad in nylon. I went to the kitchen and got a can of Coke from the fridge, then returned to my room. I sat on my bed and looked at my lap. I ran my hands over the tights before smoothing the skirt. I imagined dressing like this at school and it being the most normal thing in the world… but I knew it was anything but normal. I removed the tights and returned to the kitchen… for no other reason than to see how it felt wearing such a short skirt with bare legs. It felt a world away from my trousers, and I felt so exposed, so thrilled. By the time my mother and sister returned, her skirt was back in her wardrobe and her tights were placed deep in her laundry basket.
I spent the rest of the evening worrying that my sister would notice something was wrong, but I’d made sure I’d covered my tracks as best I could. That night I lay in bed, satisfied that I’d got away with it and content that I’d finally experienced, just a little, what it was like to wear the girl’s school uniform. I cast my mind back to the few minutes I’d spent wearing her nightie and wondered what it would be like to actually sleep in one, all night long, before cursing myself for having such thoughts. I’d hate to be a girl but if I was… I’d be a tom-boy. I wouldn’t have a sickly pink room like my sister Jemima or a wardrobe full of pretty dresses. I’d be like the girl from the skatepark who only wears a dress when her mother makes her wear one… and even then I wouldn’t enjoy it.
“You shall remain dressed exactly as you are until I’ve decided what to do about this” my mother stated as her eye’s dropped to see the semen dripping on to the floor. She turned to my sister and told her to go to the kitchen, before tuning back to me. “Right young man… come with me!”
Mother took me by the arm and pushed me into the bathroom, locking the door behind us. She ordered me to remove the knickers and wash them in the sink. “And try not to get any of that filthy stuff on those stockings!” she spat as I carefully pulled them down.
I washed the semen out of the knickers in hot soapy water as my mother stood scowling over me. Once done, she told me to wring them out and put them back on. “But they’re still damp.” I moaned.
“Well they’ll dry out eventually.” Mother replied, before taking hold of a J-cloth with one hand, me with the other and barging me back to my sister’s room. She ordered me to clean up the mess I’d made on the floor, before hanging up the clothes I’d been trying on, which were now scattered around Jemima’s bedroom floor.
Jemima was crying in the kitchen when her mother entered. She was upset because not only was Perry wearing her things… but they were her favourite things. Her mother assured her that Perry would replace them with his pocket money. “It’s obviously not the first time he’s done it!” her mother said as she realised just how well he’d applied the make up.
Jemima said she often found things out of place, but she’d just assumed it was her mother. “I never thought for a second it was Perry!” she said. “The thought of him rummaging through my drawers makes me sick!”
“Well something needs to change.” her mother said, before a flash of inspiration. “You always said you’d prefer Perry’s room because it’s bigger and has a better view.” she said, “Would you like to help me clear Perry’s things out and you can move in tonight?”
“Tonight!?” Jemima exclaimed. “What about Perry?” she asked.
“He’ll move into your room of course.” her mother stated. “If he’ll go to such extremes to play dress up with your things, then maybe the ideal antidote is not to give him the choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“If he wants to dress as a girl, that’s exactly what he’ll be doing, whether he likes it or not.”
Jemima’s jaw hit the floor at her mother’s suggestion. She was speechless. “Even for school?” she asked, visualising the scene as a thoughtful grin crossed her face.
“Well much as I’d like to see him squirm… no, not for school.” her mother replied.
“Pity.” Jemima frowned.
Her mother opened a cupboard and removed a large roll of bin bags. “Well, let’s get started shall we?”
Jemima turned her nose up a little. “I’m not overly keen on moving into his room… it’s dirty and smelly and…”
“Don’t worry Jemima, we can decorate this weekend… plus it’s about time you had a room more your age.” her mother smiled.
“Really?” Jemima grinned. She bit her lip as she imagined what her new room would be like, what colour she could paint it and what curtains to have. It was a dream come true for any 15 year old girl who’s eager to be a young woman.
Perry was still hanging his sister’s clothes back on their hangers when he heard them climb the stairs. He braced himself for the shame he’d feel when they saw him once more, wearing only his sister’s stockings, knickers and bra. However they did not enter, so Pete relaxed a little. He cursed himself for getting caught as he hung the clothes back in his sister’s wardrobe. He recoiled at the horrible frilly and floral affairs which shared the same space as the trendier skirts and dresses he preferred.
Once he’d tidied up, he shyly exited his sister’s room and crept, in his underwear, across the landing. He knew his mother and sister were in his bedroom, so he poked his head around the door, hiding his near nakedness from view. His heart, already fairly low, sunk to new depths as he saw his mother and sister mercilessly filling bin bags with his posters, air-fix models, old toys and new gadgets. “Wha… what are you doing?” he rhetorically asked in a tone which lacked any hint of authority.
His mother turned to see her son whimpering behind the door. “What does it look like?” she replied. “We’re making some changes… This will be Jemima’s room from now on.” she said as Jemima looked at her brother’s face, streaked with eye-liner and his shoulder clad in nothing but the thin strap of her favourite bra.
Perry looked around his bedroom. The shelves almost bare, the walls held only fragments of his posters, the floor, once littered with video games, odd shoes, dirty socks and clothes is now an ever growing pile of black bin bags. “Mother can I put some clothes on please?” Perry asked in the same humble voice.
“No!” his mother spat as she pulled open his drawers and began filling a bin bag with the contents.
Perry glanced around his room once more. Although fairly certain he knew the answer, Perry asked, “Where will I be sleeping?”
“In Jemima’s room of course!” his mother replied.
“But that’s not fair!” Perry claimed.
“It’s not fair that you lied to me and bunked off school in order to invade your sister’s room to wear her things.” his mother spat, “so i think it’s perfectly fair that you move into your sister’s room permanently.”
He gulped at the thought of staying in his sister’s bedroom, and he knew he’d never be able to have his friends around unless it was completely redecorated. He felt he’d come up with some leverage. “Mother?” he asked.
His mother stopped what she was doing, faced him and said. “If you got something to say come in and say it.”
Perry glanced down and gulped. He was still hiding behind the door, embarrassed of his attire.
“I mean it Perry, you’re only wearing what you chose to wear… and you’ll be wearing nothing else until I decide otherwise.”
Perry reluctantly stepped from behind the door. Shame flooded through his veins as his mother and sister looked down at his knickers. “Not very excited now are you?” his mother observed as Perry hung his head. “Well?” she prompted.
Perry nervously glanced at his sister, before saying, “I could help swap the furniture over… if you let me change.” he suggested with the same lack of authority as before.
His mother sighed an impatient sigh. “I don’t think Jemima wants that furniture any more… but suddenly it’s perfect for you.” she stated. “And seeing as you’re offering to help, you can start by bringing Jemima’s clothes through.”
A brief moment of stasis passed before his mother said, “I wasn’t asking!”
“Can I put some clothes on first?” Perry asked, “Please?” he pleaded.His mother looked him up and down, from the toes of his stockings to his pink & purple undergarment and matching top. “After you’ve emptied your room of all Jemima’s clothes.”
Perry returned to his room and took as many clothes from the wardrobe as he could carry. He returned to his old room to see his mother emptying his wardrobe, by throwing everything in a crumpled pile on the floor. Back and forth he went in only his underwear, fetching her masses of dresses and jumpers until the wardrobe was finally empty. Even with his own clothes in it, it won’t be any less feminine, he thought as he removed the final box of shoes.
The box of shoes was swapped for one of his empty drawers, which he was to fill from Jemima’s drawers. The first drawer full he’d just tossed Jemima’s undewear in. His mother tells him that it is not acceptable, and that he should make sure they remain neatly folded. “Otherwise I’ll make sure everybody knows what you are!” she threatened.
The thought of everybody knowing gave Perry a good incentive not to piss his mother off any more than she already is. He wiped tears from his eyes as he carefully transferred the neatly folded clothes from Jemima’s drawers. Once all of his sisters clothes have been transferred, he asks if he can put some of his clothes on, but his mother refuses.
He looks at the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor and asks if he should take them to Jemima’s room, but again, the answer is no. “You can put them all in bin bags.” his mother instructs as she passes him the roll of bags. “Oh stop snivelling!” his mother snaps as he does as he’s told, wearing nothing but his sister’s underwear.
Perry filled the first bin bag with his clothes and asked if he should take them to Jemima’s room. “I’ve already said no!” his mother barks. “Once they’re all bagged up, you can take them to the kitchen.” she explained, “Tomorrow I’ll take them to the charity shop.”
Perry looked up at his mother in amazement. “All of them?” he asks. She nods a definite yes. “But… what am I going to wear?”
His mother turns towards Jemima, who is sorting out her new wardrobe. “How are you getting on Jemima?” she asks in an almost cheery tone of voice.
“Fine.” Jemima smiles. “There’s so many I never wear any more.” she says as she removes a dress and hangs it from the wardrobe door, on which several others hang.
Perry realises what’s happening and claims, “I can’t wear those!”
“Oh yes you can… and it seems you have been for some time now.” his mother states. “Jemima dear… why don’t you choose one for your brother?”
A huge grin sweeps Jemima’s face. “Can I?” she gushes.
“Well I think it’s only fair… Perry didn’t give you any choice when he stole your things, so you shouldn’t give him any choice either.”
“What?” Perry exclaims. “That’s not fair!”
“You young man are not going to tell me what’s fair and what isn’t!” his mother barks, striking the fear of God into him. “Seeing as you’re so keen on your sister’s clothes, that’s exactly what you’ll be wearing from now on!” she states before turning to her daughter and asks if she’s found anything yet.
Jemima giggles as she routes through her packed wardrobe. She removes a yellow gingham dress, littered with white frills and bows. “This one!”
The words ‘oh my god not that one’ race through Perrys mind. If he wasn’t dumbstruck they’d have come out of his mouth too.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked. “I thought that was one of your favourites.”
Jemima pulls a slightly guilty face as she admits she’s never liked it. “I only said I did because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“Oh Jemima you should have said so.” her mother replied as she took the dress from her daughter and admires it. “You see Perry, Jemima cares about other people’s feelings.” she says. “Unlike you!” she growls as she passes her son the dress.
Tearfully, Perry begs her not to make him wear it but his plea falls on deaf ears. He reluctantly pulls the horrible frock over his head before his mother turns him around and buttons him in. He begins to sob uncontrollably when she turns him to face her and his sister.
His sister giggles. “It looks much better on you than it ever did on me Perry!”
Perry begs to be allowed to take it off, whilst his mother and sister route through her three boxes of footwear, finding him something suitable. He begins to sob as his mother straps a pair of old black Mary Jane’s to his feet.
His mother sighs impatiently. “I don’t know what you’re crying about Perry… you went to great pains to wear your sisters clothes and now you are your playing all hard done by.” she states. “You should be over the moon!” she supposes. “Now stand up so we can have a look at you.”
Perry’s tears begin to run more freely down his cheeks as he stands. He feels like a shop mannequin and hoping he can still plead his way out of this, looks up at his mother. “I’m sorry.” he mutters.”Please can I take it off.”
“I’m sure you are Perry… I’m sure you are. But no, you can’t.” his mother coldly replies. She turns toward his sister who stands gleefully by the wardrobe. “Jemima has very kindly selected some of her old clothes for you… so why don’t you say thank you you hang them in your wardrobe?”
“But I don’t want to… I don’t want to wear those.” he sniffles.
“You don’t have a choice.” his mother states, “Now unless you want to go to school dressed as a girl tomorrow, you’ll do as you’re told and say thank you to Jemima.”
Reluctantly, Perry says “thank you” before he tearfully takes the selection of dresses to his room. He hangs them in his wardrobe and curses himself for what he’s done.
Meanwhile, his sister Jemima says. “I think he should go to school as a girl… then everybody will know.” she suggests.
“I think him living as a girl for time being will be humiliating enough.” her mother replies, before explaining in no uncertain terms that she mustn’t tell anybody about this. Not her friends or his friends or teachers, not her cousins, aunts, or uncles. “You must promise me Jemima that this remains within the walls of this house.” her mother states, making it clear that the consequences for breaking her promise will be doubly harsh.
Jemima promises.
“Well I hope so.” her mother replies. “Do you have a couple of old nighties too?” her mother asks, “I want him to spend every second in this house dressed as a girl!” she adds, much to Jemima’s delight.
“Can I decide what he wears tomorrow too?” Jemima asks.
“Yes if you want.” her mother replies, glancing at Perry’s bed and its camouflage duvet cover.
Jemima’s eyes follows her mother’s, “I don’t want to sleep in that… it’ll need clean sheets and a clean duvet cover on.”
“I was just thinking the very same thing.” her mother says. “Shall we fetch the rest of your things?”
Perry’s mother and sister enter his room. The boy is slumped on his bed sulking. He is told to go into his old bedroom and strip the bed, whilst they get the last of Jemima’s things. They removed all the books and ornaments from the shelves, along with Jemima’s favourite cuddly toys and most treasured dolls from her childhood and take them in several batches to her new bedroom.
Jemima giggles at her brother in her horrible yellow dress, and tells him how pretty he looks. Her mother chooses some clean sheets from the airing cupboard, along with a duvet cover and pillow cases, and Perry is instructed to make his sister’s bed for her.
“Why do I have to do it?”
“Because you’re in big trouble young man… so you’ll do exactly as you’re told.” his mother states.
Jemima and her mother return to her old room to collect the next batch of books and ornaments. “I guess we should leave him a few things.” Jemima suggests. Her mother agrees, so Jemima takes great delight in leaving him many of her old princess and fairy books, as well as some DVD’s she’s long grown out of. She arranges a couple of old dolls and cuddly bears on his shelves, along with some unwanted girlie ornaments, and steps back to admire her work.
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” her mother says, before before looking at Jemima’s bed and her old Disney Princess duvet cover. “Do you want this duvet?” she asks, “Or shall we leave it for Perry?”
Jemima giggles at the idea of her brother keeping it and sleeping in it. “Yes lets!” she says, “In fact… there’s my old Tinker Bell, Barbie and My Little Pony bed sets too.”
“Oh he’ll love those!” Mother agrees sarcastically, before asking if she wants her TV & DVD unit. Jemima looks at the pink appliance which she’s had for many years. “Nah… plus his is much better than that old thing.”
“Very well.” her mother grins. “A few weeks of this and I doubt he’ll ever want to wear girl’s clothes again.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” Jemima asks. “I mean… does…. like it…”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it… but hopefully we won’t have to.”
When they returned with the last of Jemima’s things, Perry had finished making the bed. His mother told him to put the sheets, duvet cover and pillow cases in the wash, before taking the bin bags down to the kitchen. Taking one in each hand herself, she headed down stairs. Moments later, Perry arrived with a bin bag in each hand, and asked his mother where to put them.
“In the yard.” she replied. “Now!” she said, noticing he was clearly reluctant to do as asked wearing what he was.
“But….” he said, looking down at his dress and shoes and stockings.
His mother looked him up and down, sighed and took them out for him. “Christ knows what the neighbours would think if they saw you.” she said on her return.
He was told to go and wash his make up off, and then was confined to his new room until supper was ready. As he sat on his bed, all he wanted to do was cry, but he’d cried all the tears he has. He looked around the room he’d always hated, trying not to believe it was now his. The hateful pink DVD/TV sat on the chest of drawers. The dressing table which was once littered with his sisters make-up and perfume now lay empty… unlike the wardrobe which contained the clothes he’d feared wearing so much. The wardrobe that now holds a selection of ghastly dresses he can call his own.
On the half empty bookshelves was a couple of dolls and several girlie ornaments. He flicked through the books his sister had left him, but being little girl’s picture books and fairy tales, he had little interest in them. She’d also left him a few Barbie DVDS, along with Tinker Bell and the Disney Princesses films. He wondered if his mother would make him go outside too, and cast his mind back to the girl from the skatepark in the rose queen parade. All those thoughts were now his reality.
His daydream was broken by his mother opening his door. “From now on, I want this door kept wide open.” She said. In her arms was a bundle of bedding, from which she grabbed a clean duvet cover, pillow case and sheet. She told him to change his bed, but noticing the clean bedding was equally pink and girlie, he began to moan. “Well what did you expect?” she asked dryly. “If pink and girlie is what you want, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.” she stated, putting the rest of the bedding on a shelf in his wardrobe. she paused for a moment looking at the rail, half full of dresses as a wry smile swept her face.
She left him alone and Perry removed the Princess duvet cover, cursing its every stitch. He pulled off the matching pillow case, followed by the sheet, then unfolded the clean bedding. His heart sank as the life sized print of a ballerina in a pink tutu was revealed. He pushed his door closed before battling to get the duvet inside its hateful cover. He swam deep inside, pushing the duvet into the corners. It’s pinkness was even more apparent from the inside and Perry wish beyond belief that he’d wake up to find it was all a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He wrapped his mattress with a baby pink sheet before pushing his pillow into a very frilly baby pink pillowcase and dreaded resting his head on it. The thought repulsed him and he recoiled his head, catching a glance of his reflection in the ornate pink framed full length mirror. “At least this isn’t pink.” he thought as he looked at himself.
His attention was drawn to the sound of the door being pushed open and his mother’s scalding face. “I told you to keep this door wide open!” she spat, glancing around his room. “Admiring yourself are you?” she asked inquisitively, noticing his position in relation to his mirror.
He hung his head. “How long do I have do this for?” he sulked.
“Long enough to get used to it.” she replied without hesitation. “It’s nothing but knickers and dresses until you’ve learned your lesson young man!”
“But I have Mother.” he pleaded. “I won’t do it again, I promise!”
“On the contrary Perry… you will… all day, every day.” she told him. “Now think yourself lucky I’m not sending you to school in one of your sister’s spare skirts tomorrow…”
A shiver went down Perry’s spine at the suggestion. Actually being sent to school wearing the skirt he’d worn on many an occasion was both horrifying and thrilling.
“…but don’t think for one moment that I won’t tell your headmistress about this.”
Perry begged his mother not to tell her, but she insisted the headmistress deserves to be told the truth. He suggested she only tell her that he’d lied, and not to tell her about the clothes. She told him that she has to tell the headmistress everything, “Because if you step one foot out of line, she’ll need to know why you’re attending school dressed as a girl!”
Perry sat his bed and dropped his head into his hands, snivelled, grovelled, apologised and pleaded. “Whether or not you go to school a girl is entirely dependent on you Perry… and that means spending every second inside this house living as a girl.” she paused to let it sink in. “Now, Jemima has found you some night clothes and chose you this one for tonight.” she said in a cheery tone, handing him a folded garment. “so put it under your pillow… neatly.” she insisted as he rapidly pushed it under. “…and put these in your drawer.” she said, passing him a pile of four or five items. He gulped as he detected plenty of pink, evidence of satin and a smattering of lace in the small pile. He placed them into the empty top drawer. “You sister doesn’t want you to have any more of her underwear so…” she paused to see him react, “…so when you get him from school tomorrow you’ll have plenty of your own.”
Again a shudder went down his spite as he unwillingly visualised the drawer full of lacy frilly monstrosities. Each and every one his own. An almost silent sigh from his mother removed the vision and he slides the drawer shut.
He looked up at his mother as she relaxed her stance. In a calmer tone she said, “Now I want you to keep your door wide open so I know you’re not playing with yourself.” she says directly, yet with reluctance. “Once you know what it’s like to be a girl you won’t find it quite so exciting as you did today.”
With that, she leaves him alone, blushing and embarrassed beyond belief. He slumps on his bed and buries his head in his elbow, cursing himself for becoming such a freak. I never wanted this… I never wanted to be a girl… this isn’t fair… he told himself, over and over again. “hi Perry! lovely dress!” his sister giggled as she passed. He looked up but she’d gone, trotting down the stairs, tittering to herself and full of the joys of spring. He sits up and fearfully looks around his new bedroom; all baby pink and white with princess themed curtains, lampshades and even the TV. “God I always hated that.” he spat, realising it too was now his.
They ate supper in relative silence. Afterwards, Perry was told to have a bath, after which he was to get ready for bed. “But it’s only seven o’clock!” he moaned.
His mother told him that he only need get ready for bed. “Then you can watch TV with Jemima and I until bed time.” she wryly smiled as his lip morphed into a definite sulk. “Now go and have a bath, and make sure you use the pink towel.” she instructed clearly. Perry dropped his head further and sighed, clearly not impressed. “Your living as a girl Perry… for as long as I see fit.” She stated, stopping only to glare at Jemima, giggling in the corner. Jemima silenced herself. Their mother continued, “So you’d better start getting used to it and stop huffing and puffing and tutting.”
Perry stropped off to his room. His mother quickly followed, scalding him for shutting his door. He claimed he’d only closed it because he was getting undressed. She suggested removing the door all together if he couldn’t keep it open. “I want to be able see what you’re doing, regardless of whether you’re getting undressed or not…. Jemima and I have already seen you in your knickers and bra so it’s nothing we haven’t seen before… and if you want privacy, you’ll have to earn it.”
Perry reluctantly accepted her terms with nothing more than a glance coupled with the slightest nod. She unfastened the buttons on the back of his dress, teasing him that he’ll be able to do them himself before long. Once down to his underwear, his mother looks him up and down, wonder why on earth a boy would wear a bra for a moment before telling him to remove the stockings. She holds out her hand expectantly as he pulls down the first stocking. “I see you’ve shaved your legs!”
He looks up at her, so guilty, so ashamed. He gulps as he hands her the second stocking, hanging his head as she inspects it.
“Well at least you’ve not laddered them.” she said as she carefully wrapped them around her hand. “But stockings like this are not for a girl your age so you wont be wearing them again.”
After his bath, Perry dried himself on the pink fluffy towel. His legs felt fantastic and for moment, he forgot about the ordeal he was going through. All of a sudden he stopped enjoying them and cursed him self. He dried his hair before wrapping the towel around him, grabbing the knickers and bra he’d spend the day wearing, he quickly exited and trotted to his bedroom. Through nothing more than habit he began to close the the dor, then thought better if it. Checking the landing was clear, reluctantly slid his hand beneath his frilly pink pillow and slowly removed his night clothes.
He told himself it could be worse as he unfolded the blue gingham garment. He lifted it and let it drop, noticing a second garment drop onto his duvet. “I’m not wearing them.” he told himself before he pushed his arms into the sleeves. He pulled it down and looked at his reflection, and after looking at himself from this way and that… he decided it was too short for him not to wear the matching knickers.
The following day at school, Perry is summoned to the headmistresses office. She tells him his mother has called her and told her everything about his absence the previous day. As a result of his truancy, he shall be on report for the following week, and shall have detention every night this week. Perry hopes that his mother hasn’t really told her ‘everything’, but when the headmistress tells him how disappointed she is that he lied to his mother and bunked off school only to wear his sister’s clothes for the day, he realises she does in fact know everything.
He walks home an hour later than usual due to his detention and as he gets ever closer, he wishes he was as far away as possible. Before yesterday he used to fantasise about being made to dress as a girl and imagined numerous scenarios. These included having to go to guides with his sister and having to wear the same uniform. Or being cast a girl’s part in a school play, a role for which he is encouraged to dress as a girl in order to play the character. Even getting into trouble at school and having to dress in the girl’s uniform as punishment. In his imagination these scenarios were all thrilling, but as he nears the end of his street, the reality is far less so. He hopes his mother has changed her mind and that he’ll have his old room back, complete with all his models, books and clothes, but on arrival he is marched to his pink bedroom. “Right Perry.” his mother says in her stern voice, “From now on, you are to change into this as soon as your get home from school.”
On his bed is one of his sister’s old school skirts along with a white blouse.”Do I have to wear that?” he moans.
“Yes. Unless you’d rather wear a frilly pink dress.”
He sits on his bed and unties his shoes. He slips them off, one by one before placing them in his mother’s outstretched hands.
“You’ll find plenty of knickers, vests, socks and tights in your drawer.” she adds as she pulls open his top drawer. The void next to his pile of nightclothes is now packed with knickers and vests, socks and tights. He fearfully pears in as his mother removes a pair of knickers, a vest and a pair of socks. “When you’ve changed, I want you in the kitchen doing your homework where I can keep an eye on you.” she tells him as she leaves. “Can you neatly fold your boy clothes and bring them down with you, and don’t forget your shoes.” she adds, glancing at his Mary Jane’s before leaving with his school shoes.
Over the course of the next ten minutes, his mother repeatedly shouts up the stairs, telling him to get a move on. Eventually he appears in the kitchen where his mother is peeling potatoes. He sheepishly hides his lower half by standing close to the dining table, but his mother wants to see him. “Come on… I want to see how you look.”
He steps out into her full view and she looks him up and down. The pleated skirt seems to fit him perfectly, although it’s a little on the short side “Come here.” she says authoritatively. He steps one pace closer. “Come here!” she sighs, stepping towards him.
“Why!?” he asks, fearful he’s going to get a smack on his legs.
She grabs his skirt and lifts it.
“What are you doing?!” he yelps, stepping away from her.
“I’m checking you’ve got your knickers on…” she says, grabbing his skirt again and lifting it.
A shameful Perry hangs his head, remains silent and still as his mother lifts his skirt… all the way up.”When I know I can trust you I won’t have to check.” she says as she drops his skirt.
“OK.” he moans, as quiet as a mouse.
“Well, you may as well get on with your homework.” his mother says. “After you’ve straightened your socks.” she adds. “The pattern shouldn’t be twisted like that.”
He sits himself down and straightens his socks. Once he’s satisfied the patterns are straight, he looks up at his mother for approval.
“That’s better don’t you think?” she asks. He nods. She smiles. “When you’ve got used to being a girl it’ll be second nature.”
“Do I really have to dress like this all the time?” he asks, again. In no uncertain terms, his mother replies in the affirmative. He decides now is the time to stop asking. His fate appears to be sealed.
As Perry gets on with his study, his sister pops in and out of the kitchen and sneers at her thieving little brother. After her fourth visit, Perry sheepishly asks his mother, “Is Jemima still really mad at me?”
“Yes. But I think if you could at least tell her how sorry you are it might help.”
“I said sorry yesterday.”
“Well maybe you wasn’t convincing enough.” his mother replies. “Why don’t you give it a try now?”
“Now?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Perry puts down his pen and slowly stands up. He makes his way mournfully up the staircase and knocks quietly on the door which only yesterday, was his bedroom door.
“Who is it?” Jemima replies.
“Perry.”
“Come in.” she says, so he sheepishly pushes down the handle and opens the door. “Oh… I though it was Perry… my brother… you don’t look like my brother.. you look like my sister.”
He gulps before muttering another apology. “I came to say I’m sorry for er…. stealing your things.”
She looks him up and down. “Oh I’m sure you are Perry… but don’t you think Perry is a funny name for a girl?”
He shrugs, not knowing what to say or do.
“I guess on the upside I got your bedroom out of it… so thanks for that.” she says looking proudly around her new big bedroom. “And if you’re really sorry, you’ll help me decorate it this weekend.”
“OK.” he replies, looking around his former room and mourning the loss of all his things. “I hope Mother lets me decorate my room too.”
“Well don’t you think your new room is perfect for a sissy like you… I mean… you did want to dress like a girl didn’t you?”
“No… I was just…. seeing what it was like.”
“Well now you know… and as far as I can tell…. you’ll be dressing like a girl for the foreseeable future.”
Perry hung his head in shame. “Did Mother tell you how long I have to dress like this?”
Jemima shook her head. “No… but seeing as I decide what you wear every day and every night…” she smiled, “…you’ll be wearing the worst I’ve got… and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”
“I’m sorry Jemima, I really am.”
“You see Perry… I don’t mind if you want to wear girl’s clothes or even want to be a girl… but you could have asked instead of stealing.” she said. “I wouldn’t have told anybody… not even Mother!” she added.
“But I didn’t want to be a girl… I just wanted to see what it felt like… wearing dresses and things.” Perry said, “but yes, I should have asked… I was scared you’d tease me or tell Mother if did.”
“Well I understand that Perry…but it’s no excuse for stealing.”
“I know.” he moaned guiltily, before saying he’d better go back to his homework.
Just as he was leaving, Jemima said, “Oh and Perry… aren’t you going to say thank you for the school skirt I gave you?”
Perry looked down at his skirt and felt himself blush. He looked back at his sister, “Thanks Jen.”
“You took your time.” his mother said as he returned to the kitchen.
Of course he didn’t willingly go down stairs. Only after his mother came, finding him sulking on his bed in his blue baby-doll style nightie and long, slim hairless legs did he shamefully walk into the sitting room. Jemima almost fell of the sofa laughing before being pulled up by her mother for teasing. When Perry was told it was time for bed, it wasn’t soon enough. Under any other circumstance, he’d have protested a 9pm curfew, but having spent the longest 90 minutes of his life; wearing a short baby-doll nightie in front of his mother and sister, he was glad to be going to bed so early.
“you can turn off the landing light Perry…” his mother says, briefly halting his escape, “…but make sure you leave your door wide open.” she reminded him.
Perry flicked the landing light off as he entered his new bedroom. He cursed himself as he approached his pink ballerina bed. Dread flooded through him as he pulled back his duvet and climbed inside. He sank into the soft mattress and laid his head on the frilly pillow. Everything seemed softer than in his room, and even with his eyes closed, he could sense the encompassing pinkness. The nightie was short, the knickers frilly, his thigh was silky and smooth. He opened his eyes and looked up at the pink walls, a fairy castle on one wall and a Disney Princesses poster on the other. Over the dressing table hangs a cheap painting of a ballerina which he can just about make out on the half-light. The dressing table itself, even in relative darkness oozes femininity. He roll over to turn his back on it, and realises that this nightie needs rearranging with almost every movement. It’s like it was designed to ride up! But no matter how much he tried to hate it… it was just as thrilling as anything.
Perry sat himself down and continued his homework in silence. But one question was on his mind. “Mother… Jemima said I have to wear what she says… is that true?”
“Yes.” his mother replied.
Perry finished his homework and packed up his books. His mother told him that supper would be ready in ten minutes, and asked him to fetch his sister. He climbed the stairs, knocked on her door and said supper was nearly ready. Jemima opened the door and asked him if he’d finished his homework.
“Yes.”.
“Well I’d better chose you a pretty dress to wear hadn’t I.”
She marched into his room and opened his wardrobe. Removed a dress and said “This is a nice one don’t you think?”, holding up a plain navy blue frock with fake brass buttons and a white lace pan collar.
She dropped it into his hands as she passed, leaving him alone on the landing.
“Where’s Perry?” her mother asked as Jemima entered alone.
“He’s getting changed.” she said proudly, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table.
“Did you notice he’d also shave his legs yesterday?” her mother asked.
“Yes.” she replied.
“And what do you think about that?” her mother asked as she placed the plates on the table.
“At least he’s doing it properly… there’s no point wearing girl’s clothes and not shaving his legs.” Jemima replied.
A few minutes later, Perry appeared wearing the navy blue frock, along with his white knee socks and Mary Jane’s. His mother looked him up and down and said, “You should really be wearing tights rather than knee socks with a dress like that.”
“Oh er…. sorry…. I didn’t know.” he grumbled.
“Never mind.” she replied. However after supper, his mother insisted he puts some tights on, and accompanies him to his room to show him which pair. His mother closes the door shut, and asks him to sit at his dressing table. she takes her place on his pink bed and removes the knickers from his baby-doll from his laundry bin. “Did you enjoy wearing these last night?”
“No.” he replies confidently.
His shame reaches new depths as she point out the tell tale stain on them. “Well this stain says otherwise.” she said, before placing them in back in his laundry basket.
Perry hung his head in shame. “Sorry.” he sulked.
“Well until you can control yourself… you’ll be wearing these under your nightclothes.”
“Oh please Mother not those!” he said as she removed a pair of absorbent ‘night-timers’ from one of his drawers. Adding insult to injury, she’d bought him the girl’s version too.
No matter how much he pleaded, she insisted he wore them, “I’ll come in and check later… and believe me, if you’re not wearing them, you’ll be one of the girls at school tomorrow!”
His mother placed the night-timers beneath his pillow and assured him she wouldn’t mention this to his sister. “We’ll see you downstairs when you’ve put your tights on.” were her parting words.
Although he knew he looked like a dag, he did feel more ‘dressed’ with some tights on. In fact, come 8 o’clock when his mother told him it was time to get ready for bed, he new the daggy look was preferable to the pink ‘princess’ nightie his sister had chosen. At least it was closer to knee length, so little chance of her noticing the night-timers he shamefully wore beneath it. He made no qualms being told it was bedtime at a measly 9pm, and was glad to finally be hiding beneath his duvet. He hoped to God that he wouldn’t have another wet dream… and wondered if his mother would check like she did last night’s knickers.
Perry sat himself down and continued his homework in silence. But one question was on his mind. “Mother… Jemima said I have to wear what she says… is that true?”
“Yes.” his mother replied.
Perry finished his homework and packed up his books. His mother told him that supper would be ready in ten minutes, and asked him to fetch his sister. He climbed the stairs, knocked on her door and said supper was nearly ready. Jemima opened the door and asked him if he’d finished his homework.
“Yes.”.
“Well I’d better chose you a pretty dress to wear hadn’t I.”
She marched into his room and opened his wardrobe. Removed a dress and said “This is a nice one don’t you think?”, holding up a plain navy blue frock with fake brass buttons and a white lace pan collar.
She dropped it into his hands as she passed, leaving him alone on the landing.
“Where’s Perry?” her mother asked as Jemima entered alone.
“He’s getting changed.” she said proudly, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table.
“Did you notice he’d also shave his legs yesterday?” her mother asked.
“Yes.” she replied.
“And what do you think about that?” her mother asked as she placed the plates on the table.
“At least he’s doing it properly… there’s no point wearing girl’s clothes and not shaving his legs.” Jemima replied.
A few minutes later, Perry appeared wearing the navy blue frock, along with his white knee socks and Mary Jane’s. His mother looked him up and down and said, “You should really be wearing tights rather than knee socks with a dress like that.”
“Oh er…. sorry…. I didn’t know.” he grumbled.
“Never mind.” she replied. However after supper, his mother insisted he puts some tights on, and accompanies him to his room to show him which pair. His mother closes the door shut, and asks him to sit at his dressing table. she takes her place on his pink bed and removes the knickers from his baby-doll from his laundry bin. “Did you enjoy wearing these last night?”
“No.” he replies confidently.
His shame reaches new depths as she point out the tell tale stain on them. “Well this stain says otherwise.” she said, before placing them in back in his laundry basket.
Perry hung his head in shame. “Sorry.” he sulked.
“Well until you can control yourself… you’ll be wearing these under your nightclothes.”
“Oh please Mother not those!” he said as she removed a pair of absorbent ‘night-timers’ from one of his drawers. Adding insult to injury, she’d bought him the girl’s version too.
No matter how much he pleaded, she insisted he wore them, “I’ll come in and check later… and believe me, if you’re not wearing them, you’ll be one of the girls at school tomorrow!”
His mother placed the night-timers beneath his pillow and assured him she wouldn’t mention this to his sister. “We’ll see you downstairs when you’ve put your tights on.” were her parting words.
Although he knew he looked like a dag, he did feel more ‘dressed’ with some tights on. In fact, come 8 o’clock when his mother told him it was time to get ready for bed, he new the daggy look was preferable to the pink ‘princess’ nightie his sister had chosen. At least it was closer to knee length, so little chance of her noticing the night-timers he shamefully wore beneath it. He made no qualms being told it was bedtime at a measly 9pm, and was glad to finally be hiding beneath his duvet. He hoped to God that he wouldn’t have another wet dream… and wondered if his mother would check like she did last night’s knickers.
The next morning his mother woke him to check he’d kept his night-timers on. He squirmed when she said, “Good girl.” and told him “they’re not so bad.” He wanted to retort but, seeing as she’d placed his own school clothes on the stool, made sure he didn’t annoy her. Being treated like a girl at home is one thing, being sent to school as one is another.
As he walked to school, he imagined a world where it wouldn’t make any difference if his mother did make him wear a skirt for school. He imagined what it would be like, dressing as a girl in public and nobody batting an eyelid. He wondered if he’d wear tights or socks and imagined how his hairless legs would feel in the breeze.
He had much the same thoughts as he walked home after his detention, and not surprisingly his skirt, knickers and knee socks were waiting for him when he arrived home from school. Reluctantly, he changed into them and went to the kitchen, almost certain his mother would check beneath his skirt again.
Once his homework was complete, he knocked on his sisters door so she she could chose his clothes for the rest of the day.
The same routine went on for the rest of the week and each time she takes great pleasure in choosing him the frilliest, prissiest, most girlie outfit she can, which isn’t hard given the selection.
On Saturday morning, his mother and sister prepared to paint his old bedroom. “Perry said he’d help too Mother.” Jemima said as they moved the furniture to one side of the room.
“Well I don’t know what he’s going to wear… all the clothes he has are far too good for decorating.” her mother replied.
“I’ll find him something.” Jemima replied.
She walked into his bedroom where he sat wearing a prissy dress. “So you want to help paint my room?” she asked.
“I said I would.” he replied.
“Well you’ll have to wear these… you don’t want to get your pretty dress all messy do you?” Jemima teased, placing a small bundle of clothes next to him. She unfolded an old pink t-shirt with the Hello Kitty logo on it, a short denim skirt which already had a couple of paint stains on, and a pair of black leggings.
The t-shirt aside, these were exactly the sorts of clothes Perry would prefer to wear, if he was a girl, so he quickly changed in to them. They spent the afternoon painting one half of the room; the skirting boards and door frames white, and the walls a pale purple colour. Jemima kept saying how nice it was to have a new bedroom whilst Perry kept wishing it was still his room. At least he wasn’t wearing a prissy sissy dress… for now.
Once they’d done one half, he helped his sister move all her furniture away from the other wall. Wondering why their mother wasn’t helping, he asked where she was. “She’s gone to collect my new dressing table.” Jemima replied.
“Well… why don’t you have that one in my room?” he asked. “It is yours.”
“It’s yours now Perry” Jemima grinned.
“But I don’t need a dressing table.” he replied, “I don’t even….”
“…have any make up!” she interjected before he could finish.
“Don’t even want it!” Perry insisted.
“Well I was going to give you some make up… seeing as you’ve been such a big help.” Jemima replied, adding, “It seems pointless having a dressing table without it.” she smiled cockily as Perry visibly squirmed. “And I thought, later on, after you’ve got out of those scruffy clothes it would be nice to dress up and wear some.”
Perry looked down at himself. “I like these clothes.” he admitted. “They’re better than your dresses.”
“You mean your dresses!” Jemima grinned.
Perry felt himself blushing again, and wanting to change the subject, picked up a paint brush. They continued painting for another hour or so. In the mean time their mother returned and she and Jemima assembled her new dressing table. It was nowhere near as girlie as her old one and Jemima was chuffed to bits with it.
They had take away pizza for supper, and after that, Perry was shoved into the shower. Once washed, he returned to his room to find a skirt and blouse laying on his bed. As he was getting changed into them his sister appeared. “I’ve brought you a nice pair of tights to wear, and as promised, some make up.” she smiled, placing a few items on his dressing table. “There’s eye liner, mascara, a couple of lipsticks, and some nail varnish… have you worn nail varnish before?”
Perry looked at the items and shook his head. “Well there’s a first time for everything.” his sister smiled. “I know you’ve worn my make up before now… in fact you did quite a good job on Tuesday.” she said. “…apart from the ‘not asking’ bit.”
Perry hung his head and apologised again.
“That’s OK Perry… it’s all behind us now. I’ve got a nice new bedroom and I quite like having a little brother who’s also my little sister.” she smiled.
Perry smiled back, but didn’t really know why.
One day, when my mother sent me to my sister’s room with a pile of her laundry, my curiosity got the better of me and I borrowed a frilly nightie. Wearing it was as horrible as I’d imagined, and it looked as bad as I’d expected… but it was somehow strangely frilling too. I replaced the nightie before it was noticed missing and felt relief that I hadn’t been caught by my mother or sister, and that I’d satisfied my curiosity.
A few days later I saw the girl at the skatepark in her usual trainers, cropped pants and sweatshirt, with her hair hanging loose and no make-up. I brought up the subject of her girlie outfit, but without teasing her. I said it must be horrible being a girl having to wear ‘all that stuff’. She said she liked being a girl… but agreed about ‘all that stuff’, adding that it was only once in a blue moon that she had to dress like that. I pointed out that she’d also have to wear a skirt everyday for school too, and that must be equally horrible. She said she could wear trousers for school if she wanted to, but quite likes wearing her skirt, it’s plain and short and comfortable… especially in the summer
I couldn’t really fathom why, as a tom-boy who hates all that girlie stuff, she chooses to wear a skirt for school when she could wear trousers. I pondered the concept, but not by choice mind… I didn’t like wondering what it must be like wearing a skirt for school instead of trousers, but for some reason, I just couldn’t help it. There’s only one way I know how to get rid of these thoughts and when the first opportunity arose, I took my chance.
“Perry!” my mother shouted from the hallway.
“Yes?” I replied from the top of the stairs.
“I’m just taking Jemima in to town… you’ll be OK on your own for a while won’t you?”
“How long will you be?” I asked.
I felt my heart begin to race as I watched the car disappear down the road. I had about an hour before they returned. Within ten minutes I was dressed in my own school shirt and tie, with my sister’s tartan skirt and a pair of thick black tights on, along with my own school shoes. My legs looked and felt so different clad in nylon. I went to the kitchen and got a can of Coke from the fridge, then returned to my room. I sat on my bed and looked at my lap. I ran my hands over the tights before smoothing the skirt. I imagined dressing like this at school and it being the most normal thing in the world… but I knew it was anything but normal. I removed the tights and returned to the kitchen… for no other reason than to see how it felt wearing such a short skirt with bare legs. It felt a world away from my trousers, and I felt so exposed, so thrilled. By the time my mother and sister returned, her skirt was back in her wardrobe and her tights were placed deep in her laundry basket.
I spent the rest of the evening worrying that my sister would notice something was wrong, but I’d made sure I’d covered my tracks as best I could. That night I lay in bed, satisfied that I’d got away with it and content that I’d finally experienced, just a little, what it was like to wear the girl’s school uniform. I cast my mind back to the few minutes I’d spent wearing her nightie and wondered what it would be like to actually sleep in one, all night long, before cursing myself for having such thoughts. I’d hate to be a girl but if I was… I’d be a tom-boy. I wouldn’t have a sickly pink room like my sister Jemima or a wardrobe full of pretty dresses. I’d be like the girl from the skatepark who only wears a dress when her mother makes her wear one… and even then I wouldn’t enjoy it.
“You shall remain dressed exactly as you are until I’ve decided what to do about this” my mother stated as her eye’s dropped to see the semen dripping on to the floor. She turned to my sister and told her to go to the kitchen, before tuning back to me. “Right young man… come with me!”
Mother took me by the arm and pushed me into the bathroom, locking the door behind us. She ordered me to remove the knickers and wash them in the sink. “And try not to get any of that filthy stuff on those stockings!” she spat as I carefully pulled them down.
I washed the semen out of the knickers in hot soapy water as my mother stood scowling over me. Once done, she told me to wring them out and put them back on. “But they’re still damp.” I moaned.
“Well they’ll dry out eventually.” Mother replied, before taking hold of a J-cloth with one hand, me with the other and barging me back to my sister’s room. She ordered me to clean up the mess I’d made on the floor, before hanging up the clothes I’d been trying on, which were now scattered around Jemima’s bedroom floor.
