Summer Afternoon
He was thirteen years old, lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a T-shirt. It was a hot day, and he didn't want to do anything except massage his penis. He moved his right hand up and down the shaft, and relaxed. He didn't expect anything to happen, but he enjoyed the feeling.
He closed his eyes and tuned out all sensations. The slight but steady breeze created a white noise that blocked out every other sound. He relaxed, his breathing becoming steady and rhythmic. Just when he thought he had achieved some sort of Nirvana, he felt something in his penis he hadn't felt before. It was getting stiffer!
He felt the semen come out, then turned to look at what was happening. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but it felt strangely exciting. He felt the urge to thrust his butt up in the air. He relaxed for a second, then did it again and again. He didn't count the thrusts, but he didn't care, either. "Yes! Yes! Yessss!" he screamed.
He sat up on the bed at the sound of his mother's voice. "What??" he shouted.
"What, indeed." His mother glared at him. She was in her early 40s, and had wavy, shoulder-length, light-brown hair. She was wearing a dark green plaid dress with pleats that extended from the belt to well below her knees. Her shoes were modest pumps that matched her purse, which was hung over her right shoulder. She was carrying a medium-sized King James Bible in her left hand. "Go to the bathroom and take your bath. We will discuss this afterward."
He could only imagine what the conversation would be like. She would probably make him read the Bible, then explain it in his own words. In a little while, they would go to evening worship and have a chat with the pastor and a couple of other people that the thirteen-year-old didn't know or like.
But then it would be over until the next time--if there was a next time, that is. He couldn't wait till he grew up and moved out of the house. Maybe he would go find his dad. He could understand why his father had left his mom. She could drive any man crazy.
He filled the tub and prepared to take a bath with the soap that he used to wash his hands, but was surprised to find the tub already full of bubble bath. He sat down in it and watched his penis disappear into the suds. Little did he know he would never see it again.
Fifteen minutes later, his mother came in with a pink towel. "Get up, Tommy," she said. As he stood up in the tub, his mom wrapped the towel around him and tied it at the chest. She then put a matching robe over his shoulders. She loosely tied the belt around his waist.
Tommy had been through some of this before. His mom would try to make him put on some ladies' undergarments that always turned out to be too small. He wasn't worried. He should have been.
"These panties will make your private area look like a girl's," his mother said.
Yeah, yeah, he thought. "Yes, mother," he said. What was the point of making his "private area look like a girl's"? Nobody (except his mom) would see it. He stepped into the panties, which fit but had some structure to put his penis between his legs. His testicles hurt a bit, but he soon learned how to stand so that they wouldn't.
"Now, put this on," said his mother. "It would be better to pull this over your head, but I want you to keep your robe and towel on until you're wearing this."
Whatever, Tommy thought. He felt what must have been a half-slip come up to his waist. It was tight but not uncomfortable. Maybe it was one of those slips that was partly a girdle. He noticed that it didn't seem to be particularly long.
His mother took off his robe. The towel reached below his knees. He started to unwrap it, but his mother stopped him. "Put your hands up while I put this on you." She put on what turned out to be a beige camisole with built-in "breasts." She unwrapped the towel as she put on the camisole, leaving him wearing nothing but girls' foundation garments.
Tommy looked down and wondered if this was what girls saw when they looked down. Did they notice? Did they care? Probably not, in most cases. He noticed that the slip was about the length of a mini-skirt. Would his mother try to make him wear a mini? Probably not. He didn't think many girls wore slips under their mini-skirts.
"Put your hands up." Tommy put his hands up as his mother slipped a dress over him. It was light green, with a mix of pink polka-dot prints and tiny flowers below the waist. His mother tied some sort of belt in the back. He couldn't see anything of the belt in front. "We are going out tonight. I have to change. While you're waiting, try on these shoes. Find a pair that you like. If you don't like high heels, you can wear one of those pairs. But you will have to learn to wear heels someday."
Tommy tried on four different pairs of shoes, then decided the first pair was the most comfortable. The heels rose up only about half an inch, so he was able to walk without too much difficulty.
His mother came out wearing only a full slip. "You need to wear a wig," she said. "Otherwise, people might think you're a boy in a dress. I also need you to help me put on this dress."
"Where are we going?" Tommy asked. He figured they'd be going to church, though church services this evening should be finished by now.
"We are going out with the Andersons," his mother said, as she slipped into a long, dark-blue dress that barely fit her. She found a pair of extremely high-heeled boots to wear underneath.
Tommy vaguely knew the Andersons. They had been friends of his father's. They had two ugly teenage daughters. One was in high school, while the other was starting college in the fall. That was all he knew of them, however.
"Here, put on this wig," his mother said, handing him one with wavy brown hair similar to his own.
The evening was uneventful, and Tommy looked forward to going home and getting out of these ridiculous though pretty girls' clothes. He realized from previous experience, however, that he would probably have to spend the night in a nightie. He was surprised, then, when he got home and his mother told him he would not have to wear a girl's nightie at all. "I want you to wear this."
It was a long denim dress. Tommy tried it on, and it fit, much more comfortably than the dress he had worn earlier. His mother immediately made him take it off and put on a full slip underneath, then she let him put it back on.
"I am now going to take off your panties," his mother said. "However, you will leave on both of your slips and wear either this dress or another at all times. If I ever catch you touching your penis at any time, you will find yourself wearing a pair of panties much, much tighter than the ones you wore tonight. They will hurt! If you find this dress too hot or too cold, I have others for you to wear. You will sit down to go potty. If you need to wipe yourself, you will do so from the back. Otherwise, you will act like a young lady at all times."
Tommy whimpered but finally said, "Yes, mother."
"And don't even think about running away and living with your dad."
"Yes, mother," said Tommy. But he had never told her that he wanted to find his dad and live with him.
"I know you want to go live with him. I wanted to do the same thing when I was your age."
"You did?" Tommy had forgotten that his mom didn't live with her father, either.
"That's how I met your mother. You see, Tommy, if you run away, you'll never find your father. That's because I'm your father."
Tommy fainted.
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