Their Little Sister free porn video

I've written before, as Ann O'Nonymous, and after reading some of the stories posted here, I thought I'd try my hand again. My own comment would be: Try another hobby. This, I guess, is possibly a one-off. This is a work of fantasy - all people and situations depicted are fictional, with no basis in reality. Permission is given to post this disaster-in-the-making on any free site. Their Little Sister by Ann O'Nonymous After his mother left, fifteen-year-old Jerry Barton closed the door, leaned against it, sighed, and muttered, "Well, I hope Aunt Betty is okay! I really like her." Going to the front bay window, he watched as his mom backed her silver Lexus down the driveway, out into the street and, giving a goodbye wave, was off on her sudden trip. Seventeen-year-old Joyce, his sister, entered from the kitchen (her footsteps muffled by carpeting) stopping for a minute or two to watch her brother; she then walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around him in a sisterly hug and, laying her chin on his shoulder, asked, "Did mom leave yet? She's got a nice day for traveling!" "Just a minute ago, Joy. The KCVG weathergirl said that it would be partly cloudy with a ten percent chance of rain this morning, followed by a bright sunny afternoon." "That's good. Okay, Jerry. Some of the girls coming over, and... well, mom left me in charge - said it was okay for me to have a few friends visit. She said you were to do whatever I asked - I know you're no trouble.... " 'Only Joy's friends, not mine? Not too equal - but, then again, who wants to hear a slurred "Hey Dude wass up, How about them Whatever's" or some other equally imbecilic statement, or wants to look at Davy Martin or Tommy Nix practically slobbering over Joyce when all of sis's friends are girls. Big, beautiful, strong, athletic, gorgeous, intelligent, etc., etc., girls,' thought Jerry happily. "I'll get the iced tea, some juices and snacks ready for them; just say when." Now Jerry readily did this each time the dozen or so girls met at his house, because he had a great fondness for all of them. Like Joyce, nearly all of them played soccer, lacrosse, field hockey and any other girl's (and a few boy's) sports available. 'Amazons all,' he thought, 'but... they were nice to me.' "No, no, no. It's not a meeting. Look, Jerry, I need a promise from you, that you'll do whatever I ask, politely, without moaning, groaning, or whining - oh hell, please just go along with me. This might not be easy for you, so pretty please..." Jerry interrupted, "Argh, you want to dress me up as a cucumber getting pickled? Seriously, what's going to happen? Dishes are done, floor mopped, and, except for the beds upstairs and possibly the laundry, I can't think of anything else that really needs attention. So, what's up?" As Joy was about to try and get him to cooperate, the door chimes sounded and into the house trooped two girls, sis's teammates, each toting two shopping bags. "Hey, Joy - did you know your front door's unlocked? Hey, Jerry," said an affectionate Misty Baker, "how's it going, sweetie?" Although much of the time she seemed to be a "typical" bubbly, ditzy blonde, she was in fact a very good field tactician. He also knew she had assembled her own computer, and it worked. The raven-hair beauty, Janis Ruel, smiled as she teasingly said, "I hope you're okay with this; I just can't wait to see how you look!" Janis, mainly a soccer player at school, was more a tennis enthusiast, hoping to become as good as Billy Jean King. Jerry almost drooled just thinking of Janis in lace-edged panties and a very short skirt going for a low serve. 'She could make a 21st Century Gorgeous Gussie Moran, only more Gorgeouser. Ahhh!' "He doesn't know yet, Janis. I was just thinking about telling him," Joy stated to the black-haired girl. "Would you take those things up to my room, please? We'll be up fairly soon." "Okay," they chorused as if it was rehearsed. Jerry was entranced, watching their lovely wriggling backsides as the pair went upstairs. He then turned to his sister, querying, "What's going on. Should I be going out somewhere so as not to bother you? Is this some kind of a junior Tupperware Party or fashion show you're having,... or shouldn't I ask?" Joyce laughed at that idea as she said, "And now you can buy this, this lovely item for the low, low price of three ninety-five plus fifty dollars shipping and handling - yeah. Let me lock that door and we'll go upstairs. Jerry, the truth is I just don't want to explain anything right now." Going to the door, Joyce only pretended to lock it, as there were other friends coming a little later. That lack of a viable reason worried Jerry. Oh sure, Joyce was the greatest! She was athletic, strong, smart; gentle as a kitten when necessary, yet a prowling, snarling tiger on the battlefields of softball, soccer and lacrosse. Whatever, he was sure he could trust Joyce with his life, if and when necessary; still there were nagging thoughts, 'What is she hiding? Why isn't she telling me anything? Oh well, time to put my trust to the test, I guess.' Upstairs, in passing his room, Jerry noticed that the door was closed. Remembering he'd left it open, he twisted the doorknob and, to his surprise, the door remained shut. "Hey sis, my door's locked." Turning towards him, she smiled as she pulled a silver chain with two dangling keys from her generous cleavage. "Are you looking for these?" she queried, "I locked your bedroom door a little earlier." "Why?" came his plaintive supplication. "Because I don't want you running off and hiding in there!" Jerry considered the locked door for a moment, then worriedly thought, 'Sis, what are you planning? What the hell is this all about, and why aren't you telling anything?' Joyce took his hand and gently led him into her room. Once inside, she went over and sat on her bed, patting a space alongside her saying, "Jerry, sit down, please. Misty, Janis, would you join us." After they grouped together, Joyce wrapped an arm around her brother's waist saying, "Jerry, before these witnesses, I promise I will not physically harm you in any way - other than that, I prefer to remain silent. I want you to say either yes or no. Once you make your decision, there's no going back." "Oh boy! Let me get this straight. You want to do something to me if I say yes, but you're not going to tell me what it is - so how can I really make an informed decision, except one based on trust." Joyce nodded. "Essentially, yes. I am asking you to put your faith in me." "Okay," Jerry remarked. 'Well, sis is a pretty good egg although she can get hard-boiled when she's in hot water. She's absotively my best bud - hell, if she wasn't my sister, I'd love to be dating her - she's everything I really like in a girl. Yeah, like I'd had a chance at that! Hmm, can't be toooo bad. Might even be fun.' Joyce added a concession, "If you can't handle what's happening, we will quit then and there. Right Misty, Janis?" Seeing the two beauties nod their agreement, Jerry cleared his throat, swallowed his pride (a little) then declared, "I will do whatever you want, sis. If, however, I feel that, for any reason whatsoever, I don't want to or cannot proceed, we stop immediately. No matter what sis, I still want us to be the best of friends." "Spoken almost like a lawyer. A few more ifs, ands, buts, and a rider or two would put you right up there with Johnnie Cocksomethingorother," giggled Misty. "Wonderful," Joyce almost shouted, as she thought, 'Now brother just don't wimp out on me, please.' "Okay, first - into the bathroom, undress and put all your boy's clothing into the paper bag in there, then place it outside the door. Attend to any business you need to attend. Next, run a tub of nice warm water for a bath -- use my bath beads or bubble bath. I want you to smell as fragrant as a flower garden in full bloom when you're done. While you're at it, I think we have enough time for you to wash your hair. You can use my shampoo and conditioner, sweetheart. "When you're done, pat, repeat pat, yourself dry, wrap a towel around yourself, chest high..." "Em, like a girl, right?" "Right! Dry your hair, also wrap a towel, turban-style, around your head," Joy replied, "then come out and we'll get you all ready - then you'll know a little more." Nodding Jerry went into the bathroom, stripped off his garments, right down to his boxers, filled the bag and, standing behind the slightly opened door, tossed the bag out. He didn't feel a need to use the lavatory, but "gave it a go," just in case. Going over to the tub, he started the water running, adjusting the water temperature to his liking. As the tub filled, he looked over sis's assortment of "necessities of life." 'Gee, there's Peach, Apple Blossom splash, Lilac beads, Strawberry splash. She has four different bubble baths, three bath beads, two shampoos, two body washes, oh, only one conditioner - how's a guy to choose? I get Irish Spring, unscented of course,' he mused. "Hey, Jer, where's your boxers?" said a muffled voice from the bedroom. "Sorry," Jerry replied, going to the door. Opening the door, he tried to maintain some modicum of modesty as he tossed the plain-white boxers out. Returning to the bath, a decision was made: Lilac won out. - - - ... - - - - - - ... - - - - - - ... - - - Back in the bedroom, Joyce removed a rubber sheet from a bag and spread it out on her bed. Next she placed the baby oil, talcum powder and diaper pins within easy reach. "Misty, you want to get her diaper ready?" "Okay! God, all the kiddies now have pull-ups. Luckily I was able to find enough cloth to make three in Jerry's size - I hope I got the measurements correct. As for those plastic panties, they were easier. Got some with cute kittens on." "Where did you get... Never mind, I don't think I want to know. Okay, we're good there - Janis, dress and tights?" Joyce queried. "Do you remember that play Sugar and Spice? Well, from the playhouse wardrobe I was able to get a very passable frilly baby girl's dress, patterned tights, a petticoat and chemise, plus rumba panties nearly Jerry's size. A few alterations here and there with my trusty Singer makes a world of difference," Janis replied proudly. "Good thing I worked assisting the wardrobe mistress there for two summers!" On Joyce's urging Janis held up the lime green creation, describing it thus: "As you can see this adorable little number has a square neck, button-up back, three-quarter length nylon cap sleeves with lace-edged cuffs, white tulle underskirt with an added pale lime green satin skirt, both lace edged. It should come to about knee length on Jerry. I added some yellow ducklings to adorn the bodice. Also I was able to find unused fingerless lace gloves that should fit." "Oh God, it's so, so pretty! Jerry will look so damn adorably cute in that..." Joyce enthused. Misty started to say something, then a nagging thought occurred: 'Great! What the hell am I getting into. Jerry's a nice guy, and just because he doesn't like sports doesn't mean he's some kind of, ... of what: Freak... Queer... sissy? So what - he has a right to be what he feels inside, what is right for him, not what everybody else tells him he must be.' "Joyce, can I ask you exactly what is going on? I mean this isn't some kind of S/M game you're playing, is it? If it is, I'm leaving now! I want no part in doing any emotional damage to your brother," Misty stated firmly. Janis added, "I must also add my own misgivings, Joy. You're not going to pull some form of humiliating trick, are you?" Joyce thought for a second, framing her answer, then spoke, "I love my bro dearly! He thinks he's not good enough for a certain person. I want to place him in a position where he has no other place to go, that he must meet her. I want him to see that likes him because he is the way he is, not like some of those macho posturing oafs in school. If you want to go, so be it - but I really need your help." By some feminine telepathic subspace transmission not yet understood by mere men, Misty and Janis reached an agreement: "Okay, we'll help - so now what?" - - -... - - - - - - ... - - - - - -... - - - In the bathroom Jerry had finished in the tub and, while it was draining, he started washing his hair in the sink. "This is rather enjoyable, so far," he thought out loud, "just wish I could do this during the school year. Probably get my arse, as the English say, kicked. Hah, like to see them try it! Sis and company will mop up the floor with them, then hang them out to dry. They'll smell of Lysol all day long." Going over to the shower he turned it on and rinsed out the shampoo. Next he followed the instructions on the bottle of conditioner: "Apply generously to wet hair, thoroughly massage in, leave for eight minutes, then rinse completely." 'Now how am I going to know when the eight minutes are up - there's no clock in here. I'll just have to guess.' After applying the conditioner, Jerry sat on the toilet seat, thinking about what was happening, coming up with a few disturbing thoughts. 'Joy wants me to use a lot of fem products even though, I must admit, her bath stuff is really nice but it's for girls.... I wonder if she thinks there's something... emm, different about me? Just because I don't like sports, prefer to listen to classical music (I'm not sure it's that girly), prefer vegetables to meat, and like art doesn't mean I want to be a girl, that I'm one of those "girl in a boy's body" transgendered.... Does she think that, just maybe, I'm Gay? No, I can't accept that - I love girls, not boys.... Male bodies are a turnoff for me! I don't understand why this is bothering me at all; do I fear that maybe, deep down, I'm just putting up a front.... That I really DO prefer boys - I'm just too scared to admit it. Is she setting me up with some boy from school?... God, I hope not. Geez, I can imagine what three-quarters of the guys would say, "There! I told you Jerry was an effing fag but you said no. Guys who don't like sports are either queers or sissies, perhaps both." 'Great, now all I need to do is flush.' Jerry's eyes were moist as he went to rinse out the conditioner. - - - ... - - - - - - ... - - - - - - ... - - - "Hey, Joy," Misty stated, "Jerry's taking a long time in there. Do you think he's having second thoughts?" "Possibly, Misty," replied Joyce, "I'd better check." She went over to the bathroom door and after knocking asked, "Jerry, are you alright sweetie?" After a moment's hesitation, Jerry answered, "Yeah, just finishing with the conditioner. I should be out in another five or ten minutes." In the bathroom Jerry rinsed out the conditioner, dried his hair as much as possible with a dryer, then wrapped the towel, chest high, around him and slipped on Joy's bath clogs. Going to a mirror, he attempted to wrap his hair in a towel just as his sister requested. It took three tries before success. Fortunately the mirror didn't reflect his inner turmoil. "Well, here goes nothing," Jerry said as he reached for the knob to Joyce's room. - - -... - - - - - - ... - - - ... - - - ... Entering the room Jerry was met by Joyce who, after taking him by the hand, then steered him to the bed. "Okay, sweetie," she said, her lips curled in what she hoped was "smiling encouragement" and not a "sneering put-down," "up on the bed, and lay face down." Eyeing the articles laid out in preparation for him, Jerry felt a queasy uneasiness build in his stomach. Trusting his sister, he gave her a nervous smile, then asking, "Are those things for me?" climbed upon the bed and awaited his fate. Deftly Joy removed the covering towel as she replied to his question, "Yes, they are." Janis said, "Nice tush, Jerry. Joy, I would sooo love to apply the baby oil. Can I?" "Hey! Okay then, I get to do the talcum thingie," stated a grinning Misty. "Okay! Enough! Misty, powdering; Janis, oiling." Joyce decided. "Sheesh. Jerry, sweetheart, looks like you're going to be our baby doll. Okay, let's do it." As he lay there on the sheet, Jerry felt strangely pampered ('now that's a fitting statement - just like those diapers'). First was Janis applying the oil, her fingers massaging his Gluteus kind of lovingly, followed by Misty's application of talcum powder. "Hey Misty, easy on the powder. I'm not going to build a little snowman on Jerry's butt," Joyce said with a laugh. Visualizing that ludicrous sight, Jerry added, "Besides, where will we get coal small enough for the eyes." "And a carrot - can't have a snowman that doesn't smell," added Janis, making everyone giggle - including Jerry. When the oiling and powdering were completed, Joy asked the giggling twosome to go to one side of the bed, while she went to the other; then she placed the diaper over his butt, one point of the triangle going between his legs. Holding the cloth she next asked Jerry to turn facing her. As he rolled, her hand followed the cloth. When facing her, she said, "Whoa. I'm going to pull the cloth around so you don't make too much of a show to these impressionable young ladies." Two tongues stuck out. "Hey what about you, Joy?" Janis retorted. "I've seen Jerry being diapered when he was a lot younger, smartass, besides I often had to change diapers for several male children when babysitting," came back Joy. As a rebuttal of sorts, Jerry put his hands down in an attempt to cover his privates. "I really don't have that much to hide. I'm kinda pathetic down there," he sadly reported as he turned facing up. Misty was the first to reply: "Jerry, whoever told you that? You are as well endowed as any man. Not that I really know." There was glance in Janis' direction, a giggle or two as she said, smugly, "I haven't lifted any leaves at the museum lately." Joyce wrapped the soft cloths around Jerry, got three safety pins and fastened the diaper snugly as she replied, "I wish I knew why you feel inferior to those jerks at school, Jerry. I'm ashamed because I know you're smarter than that." After running her finger around the edges to make sure the diaper wasn't too tight, she added "bunny" caps to make sure the pins would stay shut. "Now the elastic pants," Joyce said to Jerry. Jerry eyed the cutesy furry kittens adorning the diaper covering, playing with and chasing after a red-and-yellow stripped ball. "Do we hafta put that on, Joy?" "Yes! Remember your promise," Joy replied a little too sharply, instantly regretting it. "Jer, it's necessary - just trust me, okay." Joyce lifted his legs and inserted them into the leg holes. "Lift your bottom up so I can pull these up," she said, thinking, 'He's doing nicely! God, I hope and pray that I can find a sweet, gentle guy just like him. It would make me the happiest girl in the world!' After looking at the sight of the panty-covered diaper, Jerry wondered if he should've put up more resistance - 'What the hell could those two lovelies be thinking of me right now?' Janis went to one of the bags and removed another item, something looking very much like white pantyhose, which she set to one side. "Okay, Jerry, I'm going to do your toenails - trim, buff, apply a pretty pink polish - while Misty will do your fingers. Okay?" With some, but not too much reluctance Jerry replied, "Okay, Madge. Shouldn't I be soaking them in some kinda fluid? I admit it sounds nice, but what about getting it off for next week?" Joyce answered, "I've got polish remover. I'll take care of it. Although, as a thought, you might like the way it makes your nails look." "Yeah, I might, but you know how guys are." As Janis and Misty worked, Joyce sat on the bed holding Jerry's free hand. She smiled down at him quietly thinking, 'I'm really lucky to have a brother like Jerry. He deserves the best I can give him.' Jerry felt his sister's fingers taking hold of his hand, next giving a gentle reassuring squeeze. Looking up, he saw her lovely and loving face with two adoring blue eyes ('Gosh, I don't think I ever told her how beautiful she is,' came to mind) beaming down at him. He returned her gentle smile with one of his own. 'This is where I should be, here with beauty - not some dirty playing field engaging in a sport because that's what real men do. Here with girls, listening to them, feeling or trying to feel their likes and dislikes; their fears, hopes, dreams, gains, losses; their stories. What they want in the future, not what is thrust upon them by what a male-dominated society thinks they should have. I want, need, to be a part of their life, be a real partner to whomever I am lucky enough to hopefully marry.' Sometimes real truth, not that 'real man' propaganda perpetrated by a macho world, comes at you like a runaway train coming down an eight percent grade. The epiphany hits you at the oddest of times, in the strangest of situations, and you know it's true because you feel it deep in your heart. As inadequate as he felt in trying to express the emotions seemingly cascading thru him, he needed to try: "Sis, Joyce, I ... It's ... Oh heck..." Seeing Jerry struggle with what appeared to her to be an emotional crises, Joyce inquired, "Jerry, honey, are you okay?" "Sis, it's funny, but I'm oddly quite comfortable right now. I mean - look, I got you, Misty, and Janis here - three of the prettiest girls in school. I feel like I'm among friends, that this is where I fit in, where I belomg,... oh not as a baby girl, but, em, gee, as part of the your group - you know, your girl friends," Jerry babbled trying to get all his thoughts out, "I just don't blend in with the guys at school. I feel like, oh, an outsider. I mean they're boys, and so am I, but it's kinda like, well AM and FM radio. They're on the radio, one single dial tunes both; but, I'm Frequency Modulated, and they're Audio Modulated - understand?" Janis shot a glance at Joy wondering if she should help Jerry. At Joy's nod, she started, "Jerry, you have many admirable, if somewhat feminine, traits; I have a great respect for you, as do a lot of my friends. You're non-aggressive, helpful, sensitive, caring, intense, quiet and gentle - maybe a little too shy for your own good. Unfortunately, too many of the girls at school don't see the benefits in those attributes because they see, in themselves, a weak, powerless, gender. Thus, if a male shows the same traits, he is, by transference, weak; therefore, not worth bothering with. They see in the jocks, who they think are 'the greatest' and want to be their girlfriends, protection, power, support, and the strength they assume they lack." "Oh Hell! Jerry, maybe you don't realize this, but you could have a date with any girl on any team at school," exploded Misty, "but because of that non-aggressive quality, your shyness, and maybe a dose of envy over those jocks, you don't even try to ask a girl out - even for a study date or trip to the library. I, for one, would be happy to spend an hour or four with you, even to research Poisonous Snakes of the Australian Outback or SETI?is it worth continued funding?" "YOU KNOW ABOUT SETI*," Jerry excitedly said, "I'm impressed, really. Wow!" 'That got him,' Misty inwardly smiled at that thought, smugly stating, "Of course, I mean who hasn't?" _________________________ *Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence. After getting the hair dryer and setting it on low, Joyce started switching sides with "Madge," to dry the polish already applied. "Emm, Jerry, normally all fetuses are female, up to a certain point at which time they differentiate, developing internal and external male and female sex characteristics. The males are still attached to the mother, so they continue to receive blood with female hormones. Now there are babies born with both male testosterone and female estrogen. What is possible, Jerry, is that you have a brain closer to feminine than masculine." "Wait a minute, sis, are you saying I'm a girl in a boy's body?" Jerry asked frowning. "No! Only that your brain, and I'm really only guessing, leans more towards female; that you see and feel emotionally as a woman would. You have the qualities of a good man, not one poisoned with excess testosterone; also, features that make a woman what she is," Joyce stated as she used the dryer on Jerry's toes. Unconsciously doing it in a distinctively feminine manner, Jerry examined the trimmed, buffed and polished nails. "Gee, the polished nails really look nice. It's a shame to have to undo such beautiful work. Thanks, Misty. Janis, thank you too." "Why thank you kind miss," Misty replied curtseying. "Pleasure," Janis said. "You were a real sweetheart." "Legs up, Jer. Time to get this show or the road," requested Joy as she worked the lace-patterned tights between her fingers. First one leg was covered up to the knee, then the other. The section to the thighs was the next distance covered - then homestretch ('Stretch? These seem to be awfully large for a little girl,' thought Jerry.), up over the hips. "Are these supposed to be for little girls?" Jerry inquired while extending and admiring a shapely leg and, pointing his toes, continued, "Seems a bit large, if you ask me." "Regular teenage girl size, Jer," replied Janis. "Oh? But they are made in smaller sizes, too. Right?" "This particular style is scaled in size from infant to mature. You're wearing the fourteen to nineteen age range," Misty informed him. "Taking an interest in girls clothes, are we?" "If you know what they got on, you know how much to take off!" Three playful punches landed; two on the arms, one from his sister lightly grazing his chin. As Joy held up still another item, she described it thusly: "This delightful pair of pale baby-blue rumba panties will look oh-so-darling on your toddler. Note the delicate lace edging around the waist (demonstrating, running fingers around), the legs (around leg openings) and four rows of dainty white eyelet lace adorning the rump area. Isn't it just too, too precious? Just picture how appealing this will look on your little one." Misty rolled her eyes at the over-done description, while Janis stated simply, "Ho boy. No more, please - I have a delicate constitution, ya know." Easing the very frilly panties up Jerry's legs, Joy stated, "Delicate? Hello! Weren't you the one who tried the frog's legs in wine?" Janis sniffed, "I was younger then." Misty added, "Yeah, by two weeks." Jerry lay there, enjoying the harmless banter among the trio, observing that they weren't rudely insulting or cutting each up, as some males; nor were they being eye scratching, hissing, arched back catty. They were friends having a good time enjoying each other's company. Still, to him, there was a feeling of being alone, of being an outsider. ('Is it possible for me to fit in with this group? I'm not athletic, not a girl - is it likely that I just don't fit in anywhere,' Jerry sadly mused.) "Well, okay! Upsie-daisy Jerry baby. Sit up, raise your arms up," Joy said, "Janis will describe for us what the next item on the agenda will be." "I'll be glad to, Bob," retorted Janis recalling her mother's favorite TV program. Holding the item against her ample chest, she intoned: "Jerry, you'll be wearing this lovely matching baby-blue camisole. Notice the square neck trimmed with 2-1/2 inch rose-pattern lace, and the way the satin will feel against your skin is oh-so-good. Yes, it can be all yours if the fit is right!" The intended recipient raised his arms, blushing slightly, to accept the feminine article. Once on, the blush deepened as Jerry fingered the lace at the neck, then tugged slightly at the hem - it fitted almost too perfectly. Running inquiring hands over the panties and cami, feeling the lace and material, he tried to casually remark (but actually squeaked out), "I... I... Emm, gee... it fits too nice, it feels too nice, it even looks too nice! I'm... kinda shocked." Jerry abruptly sat back down on the bed, somewhat disoriented by his experiences. Misty walked around to face Jerry, then leaned over and kissed him gently on the nose. Janis was next, planting an extended smooch on his right cheek. "Do you want to take a short break, Jer?" Joy asked with alarm. Looking up, Jerry saw the frown. He replied, "Please, a half glass of water would be nice." - . . . - - - - . . - - - . - - .. Taking the offered liquid, Jerry sipped a bit, thought a bit, sipped a bit, 'til the glass was empty. "Thanks, Joy. It hit the proverbial spot. So, how much more?" "A pair of black Mary Janes, a petticoat, the dress, and a little make- up for that pretty face of yours. A little jewelry for neck and wrist will just about finish it up," replied Joyce. "Sis, there are times I sense I'm on an emotional roller-coaster ride without brakes. The clothes feel great, but I shouldn't like them; I should be out playing baseball like other guys, but honestly don't enjoy the game. I feel guilty about enjoying the sensations I get from the silk, nylon and satin while wearing female clothes; then wonder why I shouldn't get a bit pleasure from them, so I feel guilty about that. I'm feeling good, then, again, I'm depressed because of why I feel good. Am I making any sense here?" Jerry sadly pleaded to his sister. "I can understand that! You're enjoying guilty pleasures. I'd bet a lot of guys at your school have snuck a bra/panty set, or two, from their sister's wash more than once. ("Crotch sniffers," interjected Misty.) Here, I'm encouraging you, to some extent, by letting you openly experience what they go through by stealth, but in a more controlled way," exclaimed Joy followed by, "but, right now, we need to finish you up. Ready?" "Yep. Lead on MacDuff," cried Jerry waving his right hand's imaginary sword in a circular motion above his head. "It's lay, Jer," Misty corrected. "You're a little old for Jerry, aren't you?" Janis remarked. "For what?" Misty said. "He's my brother. I think you should ask me first," Joy replied, adding more confusion. "Misty, are you a Lesbian? I never would guess." Jerry, more confused than ever, remarked, "Am I in the right house? What's going on?" The girls laughed as Janis explained, "The line is 'Lay on, MacDuff. And woe etc.' It's from Shakespeare's MacBeth." The light in the attic came on. "Ohhh, so those were just a little playing around. I see, therefore I think, I think," Jerry said, a little relieved by the humor. "So, I guess it's hands up, or do I step in?" "Eh, best to step in, I think - and don't you start," Janis warned with a contained slight smile. "Ahem! I believe I'm the describer here," intoned Misty. She tried for fashion show announcer: "Now if you look this way, ladies. (holds up petticoat) This attractive creation is an exclusive item, imported from Paris. Notice the triple tier of skirting consisting of alternating nylon and taffeta (lifts each hem in turn); the delicate (fingers extend hem for inspection) lace edging at the waist, the eyelet lace (indicated with finger) at the hemline; daring or darling, isn't it. Comes in three colors: white, pink, or black. Also available in fuschia, puce, chartreuse, and mauve on special order." Joy clapped, Jerry smiled, and Janis smirked, "Golly gee wiz, y'all makes me wanna run out an' stock up right now." Misty got the last word(s) in, "Only sixty nine fifty..... plus all applicable taxes." Stepping into and working the garment up the legs and the hips, Jerry's fingers caressed the soft supple fabric almost lovingly, trying to forget he was male - to just enjoy the moment. Carefully easing the elastic waistband up over the panties, he was aware of new sensations: the embracing touch of lace against his legs; the slight tightness of the waistband, and a noticeably distinctive sound from the taffeta. "Question? Anyone! Does the, em, camisole go over or under the petticoat?" Misty looked at Janis, who looked at Joyce. "I think it makes a nicer appearance over the petti, Jer," his sister replied. "Does your t-shirt go in your boxers?" asked Janis. After walking over to a full-length mirror, Jerry imitated his reflection, standing hands on hips, first twisting one way then the other, taking an interested pleasure in the soft rustling of taffeta. He tried putting the petti inside; next it was outside. He concluded, smoothing the lovely garment down, "I do like it with the cami over the petti - it seems nicer." Joyce smiled at his statement, because it would seem that her brother, Jerry, was trying to establish a sense of fashion for Jeri, her soon-to- be sister (albeit a temporary one). "If I'm not mistaken, you are now feeling that this isn't so bad. Am I right?" Spellbound, as if caught in a web of enchantment, the "he" was starting to give way to the "she," both occupying one body. "Gee, sis, I see me, know it's me, and yet - I'm... well, able to see myself in a different way. Here, in the mirror, I do see a girl. I... I'm that girl, I know, but... damn, I'm really, really confused. Maybe I should label myself 'X' as in unknown quantity, as in Algebra," Jerry blurted out. Janis smiled at the almost cute new girl, saying, "That 'X' isn't really unknown. It's something that needs to be discovered, by methods applicable to the science involved. In your case, it's a discovery of a part of you suppressed by fear of not being man enough. Jerry, I'll say this again, and maybe if I say it enough times you'll pay attention. You are better than ninety-nine percent of the boys at our school." Misty rambled along: "Mirror, mirror on the wall; who's the fairer of them all. Make that ninety-nine point nine. God, how this gender crap can screw us up! ('Ego too,' added Janis from the sidelines.) We shouldn't be playing sports 'cause girls ain't strong or fast enough, and other BS. Hell, if nice boys like Jerry would wear dresses and such, I'd probably vote the Lesbian ticket. (Huh) Just think, nearly half of all marriages end in divorce in the first year. In a dress or in trousers, you're Jerry. Your sister loves you very much, so, where's the problem." "I'm not sure of who I am. The 'girl' image I see is me, but the 'brain' image says that's wrong - it should be a boy," Jerry reluctantly stated. "So, to my thinking, one of those 'images' is wrong. The things I prefer doing are more closely related to female; but nude, I can see I'm male. That is confusing, doncha think? I guess, later on, I can merge them." "But, you can continue," queried a concerned Joyce. "Strangely enough, I'm actually looking forward to seeing how the dress looks on me." Joyce went over to where the dress was hanging. She took it off the hanger and walked back to Jerry. After undoing the buttons on the back, she requested, "Arms up, Jer." Jerry lifted his arms, closed his eyes and awaited orders. He felt the cloth sliding over him, hands guiding his wrists thru openings, a tug of adjustment on the shoulders, the sound of exaltation, admiration; his sister's announcement of "Perfect fit, Janis - that's amazing. Now to button up our somewhat reluctant princess." One eye opened, the world was still here, no one was laughing; the air was breathable, so the other eye followed suit. A quick glance at the mirror, the surprise was that he did look nice. Oh, not pageant pretty, perhaps a fourth-place finish, but nevertheless, an overly tall, fairly attractive Little Miss. ('I wonder wear Janis got my measurements. This fit is a bit too good.') "Sis, would you please fasten my buttons, I simply cannot reach all of them." "Janis, please do the honors." Janis called him over to the bed where she was sitting. "Turn around sweetie pie, and I'll relate a tale concerning this dress." After Jerry followed her instruction, she started, "In a play, this dress was supposed to be worn by the lead actress. There are eighteen white buttons to be fastened. In this case, the actress complained that they were difficult to reach and fasten without help. Now you can imagine the chaos backstage during a play - people awaiting cues, coming off stage, props in position for various scene changes. And a shortage of dressers! So, this particular dress was never used. Know how they solved the problem?" Jerry lifted one eyebrow, then the other; nose wrinkled, mouth opened, nothing coming out. "They dressed each other, is my best guess. Okay, how?" "Made a new dress with a solid back. All the buttons were sewn on. The front had an overlapping opening that closed over a Velcro tape. Just drop over head slipping in arms, press the seams together and you're done." "Clev-ver. So how did you get this dress, and why does it fit?" "I did some alterations on it using your sizes. I got the dress because I needed a model to make a new one. Also, had to change a few of the other costumes. Jerry, it may help you if you think of this as a costume." Standing up Janis turned Jerry around, gave him a short introduction to "Girl Sitting 101" which he then practiced. Slide hands under then down a bit, spread dress slightly, place butt on bed. Legs together, one shapely ankle tucked under the other, move both to one side, no free show. Stand and repeat. Janis knelt before Jerry, mindful of the show her cleavage gave to him. (a kindly reward) While slipping on and buckling the instep strap, she remarked, "Shoes, Jer. Even as a, ahem, young lady I have many styles and colors to pick from. These are rather pretty Mary Janes; stylish in their very simplicity. Good for many different occasions except very formal affairs, where heels are de rigueur. A two-inch minimum! There, all set for the ball." Anxious to see the "final result" (possibly another nail in his masculinity coffin), Jerry stood up, unconsciously smoothed out imaginary wrinkles in the dress followed by a slow casual stroll ('Is that what it was? I was just being careful') to Joy's full-length mirror. Amazement slowly suffused his face because the dress did look nice, lace edging of the petticoats peeking out underneath. His mental question was, "Is his real self or another persona carried within?" In the mirror he saw the reflection of his sister walking towards him. Her hands placed an object around his neck: a two-strand pearl necklace. "This is my absolute favorite! It was Gramma's. I want to share this with you," she quietly stated, her voice soft and gentle. Reaching down, he took hold of the treasured jewelry, fingering it lovingly. He gently replied, with suddenly moist eyes, "Thanks sis. You're the greatest!" She replied with a hug stating, "So are you, Jerry, so are you!" Misty's voice broke into trance. "Hey girls, nearly half an hour 'til noontime. We still need a little make-up on our new girl." "Right you are. Misty, that's your department. Do your wickedest." "Not on this little, well big really, darling! Come on, sweetie. Follow Auntie Misty over to the vanity." As Jerry went to follow her, Janis and Joyce quickly used atomizers to spray a mist of mixed perfumes in his path. After hesitating for a microsecond, he walked thru savoring the pleasant aroma of ripe fruits, spices and fragrant flowers. ('Sure beats the hell out of Old Spice.') Arriving at the table, he carefully seated himself placing his hands modestly in his lap, well aware of the several sensations that were once foreign to him: the tickle of lace against his legs; an unfamiliar weight of a necklace around his neck; tights snuggling up to his legs; the bouquet of flowers produced by his perfume. He felt like he now existed between two worlds (or, was it really in two worlds?). First Misty got a few cotton balls, applied a liquid "cleanser," which she then used on his face. "This step is necessary, Jer, because if your skin isn't clean, dirt gets trapped in the pores and covered by the foundation," she carefully explained. Next was an application of foundation. "This is used to hide facial imperfections. You don't need a lot to cover the face," Misty announced. "This particular brand has emollients, aloe, and vitamin E, all of which are good for the skin. Plus it's not tested on animals." "Hmm, if it's so good, why don't men use it?" he queried. "Look at, oh that's right - you're too young to be shaving," she replied. "Ahhhh, yeah." Jerry smiled as he related, "Tried that Home Alone thing with the skin bracer, at least I think that's what he was using. Too much alcohol for my taste! Em, not the way you think!" "Alcohol is a solvent. Same as water," Misty observed, "Also alcohol evaporates fast, so your skin feels cooler." "Interesting!" was his Spock-like reaction. An ever-present pocketbook was opened; a compact removed. Misty flicked it open, checked the contents then requested a brush. "Now this isn't perfect for your color or skin type, but it will have to do," she said. Holding the open compact in hand, she lightly twirled the brush against a soft reddish-brown material, tapped it a few times before softly brushing his left cheek using a circular motion. She considered her work for a moment or two before tackling the right side. "It doesn't look too bad! Your skin is a little fairer than mine, Jerry, so it would seem that it's a little on the heavy side." "Wow! Maybe colleges should offer degrees in 'girlology' as there is a lot more than meets the eye. Shoes all different styles and heels, next you need consider neck openings - scoop, square, cowl, vee, etc.; then there's fabrics: I mean you have polyesters, nylon, rayon, taffeta, silk, satin, cotton. There's dresses of all kinds, skirts, shorts, culottes, skorts (now where did that come from?), jumpers, blouses, etc. Cosmetics are a field all to itself. It would seem to take the brain of a genius to keep all the complexities in mind," Jerry rushed out. "Plus you need to know day- and nighttime wear, color coordination. I suppose a bit of label reading wouldn't hurt." "Well, girls are smarter," Janis stated smugly, "but you already know that, because in realizing it you prove you're just as smart." Joyce handed him the last item. "Here ya go, sweetheart. Your lace gloves." "Gee, sis, get these at half-price," he kidded, slipping them onto his hands. Extending one hand out and turning it one way then the other, Jerry thought, 'a Cosmo moment.' "Smartass. That's so you can show off those lovely nails of yours." Jerry wiggled his fingers, savoring a special feeling the exquisite gloves offered. This was all so different from his usual attire of worn t-shirt, somewhat seedy sneaks (no socks) and torn-at-knee, faded jeans. Dressed as he was now, every thing he had on seemed to shout "you're special, you're loved" to the wearer. "Okay, honey, let's take a last minute look at you," Joyce stated. She smiled as she visually went over her "new sister." "Okay! Gloves, check. Dress, tights, shoes, check. Make-up - um, slightly on the heavy side, it's okay, for now. Jewelry, hey Janis, Misty, watcha think? A bracelet, maybe earrings too?" "Nope," replied Misty. "Same here. She could lose clip-ons, and her ears aren't pierced," was Janis's answer. "Houston, we have lift-off for project 'Discovery'," Joyce affirmed. - - - ... - - - ... - - - - -.. - - ... -. -. As the group went down to the ground floor, Jerry picked up sounds that seemed to be coming from the kitchen. He inquired, "Joy. I believe there's someone in the house - think it's a burglar?" "No, Jer. It's just a few of the girls doing... em, something. Nothing to be alarmed about," was her reply. "Misty, we'd better go help. And our widdle babykins can come play in my cwib wib my dollies any time," was Janis's teasing remark, "I'll even share my waddle." After the two sashayed off, Joyce needed to explain what she was going to do, but she would hold out a little. "Okay, bro," she said, holding up two items, "these are baby reins. I'm going to put them on you. Next, see that arm chair?" She pointed out a wooden chair positioned facing the front door. "There seems to be some strips of cloth on the floor. Am I to assume that's the chair you mean? Are you gonna tie me down, sis. Oh s-s-s-s- sugar." (he wasn't a kangaroo, at least not at this moment*) *You Aussies should catch on to this! "Yep. I want you to look as helpless as the little girl you're portraying. I can still stop if you want me.... " "No, no. It's alright! My gut feeling, strange as it seems, is that I really, really need to follow this thru." The reins were of pink leather, one large, rather thick diamond-shaped piece on the front with four webbing straps riveted to it. Two of the straps were for the shoulders, the others for around the waist. The straps entered into the rounded side of a half-moon shaped plastic holder, having two odd D-shape pieces on the flat part, and a smaller version, for the leash, extending from the top. Jerry watched as she demonstrated: "Your arms go thru, with the straps on shoulder and around waist. The 'D's' fit into slots (here she held it up showing a 'screw' in the bottom of each section), those screws with attached tapered pins are removed causing hooks to engage the 'D' locking the reins in place - got it." "Eh, yeah. Sorry I asked." Three minutes later with reins on, pins removed, Joyce showed him one of the pins. "I don't think we'll have any more use for this," she smirked. "DON"T YOU DARE! Joyce, sorry, but that's not funny, McGee," he flared up. "I'd hate to be stuck in that harness." "Don't be such a fuddy-duddy! Anyway, I'm going to snap on your leash, then.... " "Fuddy-duddy!? Where did you pick up that term - some old radio show I'd bet." Joyce took a lock she had hidden, put it on the ring at the end of the leash and snapped it shut. "Okay, wise guy - now I've locked your leash on. I don't know if there's a key to this lock or not. Now let's get you seated comfortably." "Ho boy, you know how to hurt a... a... well, I guess I'm still considered a guy." Jerry walked over to the chair, turned, carefully slid his hands under butt and sat. After a wiggle or two, an adjustment here and there, he felt comfortable. At Joy's request he positioned his arms palms up on the rest. Joyce snugly wrapped cloth twice around the combined arm and rest, finishing with a bow tied on the underside, well out of probing fingers' reach. She repeated the action on the other side. The legs were moved parallel to the chair legs, next secured in a similar fashion. Standing back, admiring the job, she said, "That should hold you." A Houdini he definitely was not. A sudden noise startled him. Looking around, he saw Misty walking over with a small glass of OJ. Bringing it close to his lips, he took the offered flexible straw in his mouth and sucked avidly on the refreshing fluid. Finished, he let out a satisfied "ahhhh,' before asking, "What's going on back there?" "Sorry, classified. On need to know, and, friend, you don't need to know," was her reply as she gave a disgusted theatrical "hmmph," raised her pert little nose in the air prior to returning the now empty glass to the kitchen. "Okay, now for the last item," Joy said, bringing the oversized pacifier (dummy), with a tied on ribbon into view, "Open wide, my little darling." "Aw, sis, is that necessary? Oh, nuts, I'd lose the argument any way, ah-h-h-h." The bulb was gently pushed into the mouth; the attached ribbon was pulled around the head and secured in back. Jerry was very effectively shushed. The question "mmph mmpf hhpf mmpff" was answered "we wait." Next was "mppf mmhhpf hppf mmm" was replied by "for our guest." ('Oh great! Can't go anywhere, do anything 'til this mystery person shows up. I wonder who he is. Don't really know, do we Jerry. After all, it could be a "she." Yeah, an exquisitely exotic dancing girl with seven silken pastel colored veils - each veil removed slowly, deliberately, revealing a beautifully sensuous body, or the real secrets of life: the seven necessities for happy living. Learning, gee, I wonder if that could be called a necessity? If you go about it correctly, intently, choosing a subject of interest, or making it interesting - Mr. Cooper does that; he's a really great teacher - I guess it could be. Maybe the "veils" mean something else, like mysteries. Mystery... mystic. They're related, so maybe a mystic probes into the unknowns in our life - all that philosophical jazz. Philos, that's "Love of," and, em, Sophia means "wisdom." Hey, weren't there only seven known planets at that time?') The opening of the front door and a shouted, "Hey Joy, sorry to late," pulled Jerry back to the world. There she stood, first shock, then anger registering on her lovely features. Her next words were, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! THAT'S YOUR BROTHER ISN'T IT? WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT TO HIM?" She stood ten feet away, two meters plus tall, 160 muscular pounds of quivering angry fury in the making. A sixteen-year-old athletic phenom; All-star this, all-star that. Possibly the state's best female athlete (although many would omit "female"), his sister's best friend - Skye "Storm" Walker. Okay, visualize Boris Vallejo's best work then add a few muscles in the right places, add an Elvgren, plus a Vargas (let's not forget Jonathan Bowser): that's her. A Ten? Hell no - there's just no scale comparable. She is "Goddess," She* who is to be obeyed. She is the ALL! ('God, she'd look really great in a Stola!') *L. Rider Haggard's novel. "JOY, I ASKED A QUESTION. I EXPECT AN ANSWER," she demanded unconsciously clenching her fists, her fury apparently building, if that was possible. Jerry started to twist his arms and legs trying every which way to loosen the bonds - he had to get free, to stand, to protect Joyce from Storm's wrath. He was absolutely scared she would be seriously harmed. Very coolly Joyce replied, "Not until you calm down a bit." "I. AM. CALM. IF I WASN'T, AN AMBULANCE WOULD BE ON ITS WAY!" Taking that answer as a "Yes" Joyce placed her hands on Jerry's shoulder, asking softly, "Sweetheart, tell the truth. Have you been hurt in any way?" (Shake of head) "Okay. Will you be okay for a few more minutes?" (Nod) "In a few minutes, Storm will untie you. Can you wait?" (Vigorous nod) "Good. Now, Storm, can you remember about three games before the finals - we were both at the lockers, just finished dressing, when I heard an, well for you, odd sound. You were crying, and I asked you why." Storm frowned, closed her lovely (as far as Jerry was concerned) blue eyes, shook her head as if clearing out cobwebs of bad memories. After brushing back some errant Raven tresses, she spoke with an unusual softness, "Yes, we won three zip. I scored, Misty scored and you assisted on the last goal. I said to you, 'What's wrong with me, Joy. We just clinched first place, everybody's happy, but I feel miserable. So... lonely.' " "Why, Storm?" Joyce replied. "You know every guy in school tries to hit on me - jocks, suits, jerks, a few knuckle-draggers, even some geeks. But there's only one guy I can feel comfortable with, one who passes me in the hall at school each day, ignores me in the cafeteria, even avoids me when we have our meetings at your house. He's nice, kind, appears intelligent; oddly, when I see him, I get this weird thumpty-thump in my chest, a dryness in my mouth, wow. It's like I ran a four-minute mile, hit a hole-in-one and pitched a no- hitter in softball, all in one. Why doesn't he just say 'hi.' Oh, why does he hate me so!" Storm's eyes betrayed her name, as the rain of tears started to come. Jerry again struggled with the ties. He desperately wanted to go to her, to kiss away each hurt his sister seemed to be inflicting on the beauty; to wrap his arms around her, hold her, and tell her "it's alright." But he couldn't! And because he couldn't, he cried too. (Shameful for a real man to be seen crying, isn't it?) "Sorry, Jerry," Joyce said surveying the damage to Jerry's pride. "Okay, Storm, I apologize for dredging up that muck of a bad memory. But next I asked you, 'So, who is this mystery person who's grabbed your heart?" With a strange fear showing, she responded by means of an uncharacteristic whimper, "Your brother, Jerry! I think I'm in love with him, Joy. I think he's too good for me. I mean, take a good look at me: muscular, big, ugly, bruised most of the time, other times he sees me I'm dirty and sweating. What man wants that in a woman!" Joyce shook her head in disbelief. "Skye," she said, "you are every boy's wet dream girl. Why do you think all those guys are hitting on you?" Her reply was harsh: "Because I'm an object to be won. It's 'if I beat you etc., will you go out with me,' or give a BJ to them. Yuck. Damn bastards!" Holding her head down, Joyce felt a flush of shame come over her. She dug a little too deeply. "I'm really, really sorry Storm." "Not your fault, Joy. Now will you untie Jerry?" "Yes, Jerry! Almost forgot." "mmmph ffffmm hhhmpf mmppf" Untying the ribbon and reaching around, the pacifier was removed from Jerry's mouth. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" "Gee, Storm, I'm so very sorry that you feel the way you do. I don't think of you as an object. You're not ugly, not by any means, and, well, girls don't sweat. Really! They perspire, sorta." Interrupting Joy stated, "Now it's your turn. Please, only the truth, Jer. Why do you stay away from Storm." "Ahhh, do I.... 'fraid so! Err, ah... ," came the stammering answer (cough) (cough). "Skye.... Storm, I ah, I, oh hell. Every time I see you in school you're surrounded by jocks, and they just push me away. 'Scram,' they say, 'She's my girlfriend, runt,' said another; I just can't compete. Yes, I stay away from you - I don't relish the idea of spending time with an arm in a sling! Damn, yes, I have strong feelings towards you, I mean.... Geez, I'm not an athlete; don't like sports either. Why would you want something like me? Look at me - this is what I'm like, Storm. I cry easily at another's hurt; I stop to smell roses, lilies, clover and other flowers; I cook, paint, draw, wash dishes. I should be wearing dresses, because that's what I am, a girl." Storm stared at him for an eternity, contemplating her answer, before walking over and kneeling in front. She quietly stated, "So you think I'm only an athlete, do you?" "Having only seen you on the playing fields, I must draw that conclusion." "Oh that is so diplomatic, Jerry. (ha ha ha)" Oh God, it was so damnably wonderful to hear Storm laughing. "Em, to maintain your athletic status, I know you must have passing grades in all your subjects," Jerry maintained. "Straight A's, with a few pluses thrown in. So, Jer, what's wrong with being able to do housework; what's wrong with enjoying Mother Nature's presents to us; enlighten me on the matter." "Nothing, that's just it. Boys don't do that. Storm, you deserve a real man," Jerry sorrowfully stated, "not a 'something' in between." "I'm not interested in a person who's hung up on themselves. It's 'see me make that TD,' or 'hit that triple.' I want someone to hold me when I hurt, who will say, 'we'll get them next time.' I want a lover, a girlfriend who will tell me 'you look good in that,' or 'put that back on the rack, Jack.' I want a person I can share secrets with. Could I do that with a guy - I think not. Yes, I'm big for a girl, more muscular than most, but I have the same wishes - to find THE GUY I can cherish, love, be crazy with, and who can enjoy girly things. You're the one, Jerry - my softness, gentility, my balance." The object of her affections sat there stunned (She actually likes me. YAHOO! Now what do I do) for a moment. Happily smiling, he requested, "Please untie me so I can give you a hug!" Later, after several ropes 0were tugged free, arms and legs released, Jerry nearly flew out of the chair and into Storm's arms. She easily lifted him to her lips. "I hope you like strawberry lipstick, Jer." "It will soon be my favorite flavor!" "Okay, Storm, put him down - if you want to, that is - grab that leash and let's go outside. There's a party to celebrate you two finding each other." "Ooooh, do I get to wear a frilly apron? And, and, is there any death- by-chocolate cake? (aside to Storm: I just looove chocolate, in any form.) C'mon you two," cried a very happy Jerry. [Well, for us the end. For Jerry and Storm a beginning.]