What Choice Do I Have? - Part 1 free porn video

What Choice Do I Have? - Part 1 Authors Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, I hope you really enjoy this first main part. I have lots of ideas of where I want this to go and can't wait to share more chapters with you all! I welcome criticism and feedback so please send some my way, I am eager to know your thoughts and it's the only way I can get better at writing. Lastly I want to repeat what I said in the prologue, this story takes a lot of ideas from some of my favourites on this site, especially K T Pel, I hope I have managed to give it my own unique spin but I also implore people to go and read K T Pel's stories as well because they are fantastic! Is this really what it had come to? I thought to myself, as I stared at the house from across the street. Compared with many of the other houses that made up what was once an old Victorian gated community, it was on the small side with a well-kept front garden alongside a drive way where sat an expensive looking SUV. Other than the fact that the main gates had long been removed, the community was still home to many affluent families, with husbands in high paid jobs in the city centre. From what I had worked out, from my days of watching and planning, was that this house was residence to only 2 people, a Mother and her young son. I had not long ago dropped out of my philosophy degree at university, my laziness when it came to coursework caught up with me and I had failed to pass my second year meaning I had to leave mid-way through the course with nothing to show for the past year and a half. I found a job at local supermarket working the checkouts, though I had originally applied for a position in the store warehouse to avoid interacting with customers. Unfortunately, my application was rejected. I was told by the manager that he felt, because of the amount of heavy lifting that would be required, it would be an unsuitable position for someone of my height and build. He'd had a point. I only stood a meagre five foot, two inches, and, because of my limited income, I'd had to cut back on my meals which had left me with a rather meagre frame. Not exactly the well-built young man that I would have hoped to be at 25. Most of my wages from my part time position went toward paying the overpriced rent for my miniscule studio apartment, any leftover was spent of food and bills. I was constantly living from pay cheque to pay cheque and my reliance on overtime on my zero-hour contract left me destined for the inevitable. That inevitability caught up with me this August, when I found myself ?300 short on my rent and no way to pay it. I was stuck, I could either find a way to pay or I would be chucked out on the street along with my few belongings. And so I found myself standing outside this woman's home about to do something I wouldn't have dreamed I would ever be capable of. I had watched for the past few days as they had both left the house at the same time in the mornings at around seven o'clock. The son was always dressed the same, in his school uniform consisting of black trousers, white shirt, tie and blazer sporting the crest of a nearby private secondary school. The woman had a different outfit each day but always looked immaculate and professional. I had sussed out that the house was empty from this time until around lunch time when the woman would return home for around an hour, and a cleaner that would come by for a few hours each afternoon. This would mean I would have a good few hours to find a way into the house, grab some cash or valuables, before making my escape. It wasn't going to be easy but what choice did I have, it was either this or become homeless. I was lacking in friends or family to borrow money from and my credit score was in bad shape leaving me unable to get even a short term loan. As I watched the house that morning, I tried to justify to myself what I was about to do, thinking that she was clearly well off and seeing as I was only going to be taking what I needed to cover my debt, I felt ?300 wouldn't go amiss. This felt like I desperate option, but I had little time left to come up with an alternate solution. This would give me and extra month to search for a better job with a more reliable income, and hopefully a way out of this mess that I had gotten myself into. The front door opened. I pulled my hood up over my head, and moved closer to the bush that I was lurking behind. The woman stepped out and I watched her walk over to her car, she was beautiful. The sort of woman I would love to spend time getting to know over a drink. She couldn't have been much older than 30, and clearly kept herself in good shape. She wore a pink sleeveless blouse with a black spotted pattern, and black boot cut suit trousers with a pair of low heeled black shoes. A silver necklace hung around her neck and her chestnut brown hair sat in a ponytail swinging side to side as she walked. "Luke! Get a move on! I'm going to be late for work at this rate, and you're going to miss the coach!" she called out toward the house. Her son, Luke, I presumed, appeared out the door in his school uniform, a slice of toast was clenched in his teeth as he slung a large bag over his shoulder and closed the front door. "If you just got up when I called you, then you would be able to enjoy your breakfast at the table instead of scoffing down like an oaf," she said with a smirk. "Yeah but those extra few minutes in bed make all the difference, I'll have way more energy for the tour now" Luke replied pulling the half eaten toast from his mouth, "Besides, I'm pretty sure the lie ins are solely responsible for my B in that physics test Mr Carrington gave us last week," he grinned. "Hmm I'm not too sure about that, anyway in the car, quick". The woman stepped into the silver SUV as her son jumped in the passenger side and they set off. I turned away as the car drove past trying to act inconspicuous and nonchalant, and most likely doing neither. When the car disappeared up the road I turned back toward the house, stepping out from my cover behind the bush. All was quiet in the street. A few lights were on in other people's houses but I knew that most of them wouldn't be heading out until closer to half seven. I began to walk down the road toward the house, glancing at my watch, it read 07:10. With my heart thudding in my chest I walked up the drive to the side gate, it was black cast iron and had an archway of flowering creepers over the top of it. I stood for a moment looking at the gate. Was I really about to do this? Was I really about to break into someone's house, was I really that desperate? I looked again at my watch, 07:15, time was ticking by. I grabbed the latch, pushing it downward, and was surprised to find that the gate swung open. I had presumed that it would have been locked and I would have had to resort to climbing over the gate, struggling to squeeze through the gap left by the archway. I closed it quietly behind me and walked down the side of the house and out into a fairly substantial back garden. I was relieved to see that the garden was walled by a large hedge on one side and a tall wooden fence which went along the back and then down the other side. Both were tall enough that I wouldn't have to worry about neighbours prying eyes. The garden itself was mainly just a large lawn with a small decked area joined to the back of the house, a flower bed ran along the back with a small pond to the right of it. There was a large set of French windows that allowed access to what I assumed would be the kitchen, but curtains across the doors obscured my view. My plan now was to wait until I was sure the next door neighbours had all left for work as to avoid attracting their attention. I used this time to look around for a way into the home that would cause minimal noise and damage. I looked around all the back and side of the house for an open window of some sort but came up empty and soon realised the only way in would be through the French windows, or more accurately the glass window as the doors sat firmly locked. I found a garden spade embedded in the soil of the flower bed and was planning to use this to make my grand entrance. As I walked back toward the doors, my luck began to dwindle further as a rumble of thunder signalled what came moments later in the form of a torrential downpour. I ran up to the back steps and tried to shelter from the rain by standing into the back door, but it was no use and I was soon drenched. Shivering, I glanced at my watch which showed that it was now 07:37. I needed to do this now. I took the spade in both hands, and aimed it at the lower window of the French window. With all my strength I shoved forward with the spade. It hit with a loud clang and bounced off. I looked at the window and was disappointed to see only the tiniest of chips in its glass. I was now sodden through to the bone and the rain kept falling and seemed to be getting harder. I tried again hitting the spade into the window and another chip appeared, this time smaller that the first. I stood staring at the window, water running into my eyes as my teeth chattered from the cold and I was suddenly angry. Angry at the university for kicking me out, angry at the flat for being so bloody expensive, angry at my job for not being enough for me to survive, and angry at myself for getting in this mess. I grabbed the spade in both hands like a baseball bat and with a scream I swung it wildly at the window, the corner of the blade connected with the window and in a loud crash the glass shattered. I dropped the spade onto the decking in relief, pausing to silently celebrate. Smashing the window had felt like a way of relieving myself of all the stresses over the past few months. I took a moment to catch my breath and let the rain wash over me. All I had to do was step inside, grab some things and get as far away from here as possible and it was only just coming up to 08:00 according to my watch which still gave me another 3 hours before I had to start getting worried. I bent down and stepped through empty pane of the French window, pushing the curtain to the side. As I'd expected, I had stepped into a large open plan kitchen. An oak wooden table sat in front of me with a bowl filled with fruit sitting in the centre. There were two doors off the kitchen, one straight ahead, which was open and lead into the hallway and a closed door to my left. I opened this door and glanced through to find a computer room and a bookshelf along the wall opposite the door. Another table sat in the middle of this room with various bits of paper and books scattered across the top, a glance at one of the books showed it to be a GCSE Chemistry revision text book. I spent a bit of time exploring the downstairs of the house finding a living room next to the computer room with a large television attached to the wall, and a fancy dining room off of the kitchen. I made my way up the stairs dripping water as I went. At the top of the stairs there was a door directly ahead which lead to an office of some sort with a large desk and computer. I went to look through the drawers of the desk but found them all locked. So made my way back out and ventured into one the rooms off to the left of the stair case. One turned out to be a large bathroom while the other was a fairly barren looking spare bedroom. The walls were a soft pink with long white curtains hanging either side of the window. To the right of the door sat a large white wardrobe and a chest of drawers. There was a single bed over to the right side by the window made up with white linen. The only other thing in the room was a vanity that sat opposite the bed on the left wall. A check of the drawers and wardrobe provided nothing other than empty coat hangers so I left the room and headed back across the landing to what I assumed would lead me to the main bedrooms, the places where I hoped to find the loot I needed. I was beginning to get cold again now in my sodden clothes. A glance at my watch told me I'd already been in the house for twenty minutes, and I was starting to feel I shouldn't linger. On the door of the room on the back of the house was a large poster of the Manchester City Football Club crest. I don't know much about football in fact I could probably write everything I know about the sport on the back of a postage stamp. If it wasn't for the F.C. part, I would have most likely thought it the coat of arms for the City of Manchester. I presumed that this must be the teenage son's room. This was confirmed upon opening the door. The room was a tip with clothes scattered across the floor, the walls were covered in posters of various football players as well as posters depicting popular super heroes from their latest movies. I stepped carefully through the mess toward what I had glanced in the far corner underneath a flat screen TV. A newish looking Xbox sat shining, its power button glowing a faint orange. I made my way over to the console to examine it and work out which cables I would need to unplug before being able to remove it. I carefully unplugged it from the power socket, trying to avoid dripping all over the various electronics, before removing the cable from the back of the TV. With it safely detached I lifted it up slowly as if it were a bomb about to go off at any moment, and once more tiptoed through the minefield of clothing to the doorway. I breathed a sigh of relief as I closed the door behind me and stood on the landing. The console alone was probably worth about ?250 and would be an easy sell, I thought to myself. I felt I could probably scrape together the last bit of money for the rent but looking at that last room I just couldn't help but feel that I had to check it, just to be sure I'm not missing anything that may be worth taking as well. After all, why go through all this and then leave short? I placed the console down on the stairs that seemed to lead to an attic and opened the door of the bedroom at the front of the house. As expected it was clearly the mother's bedroom. I moved into the room with the door closing softly behind me. There was a large double bed made up with a floral quilt, either side were small bedside cabinets. A large vanity sat opposite the bed with a wardrobe and a chest of drawers to its side. A photograph of the mother and her son along with a vase of lilies sat on top of the chest of drawers. As I walked in I suddenly caught my reflection in a large mirror next to the window in the corner of the room. I looked ridiculous. The clothes I was wearing were drenched and hanging off of my small frame, the sleeves of my hoody hung down past my hands. I rolled them up and took down the hood. My nearly shoulder length brown hair was sodden as well as I ran a hand through it wondering when I would next be able to afford a haircut. I turned away from the mirror and moved toward the wardrobe, opening it up I found it stuffed with all manner of clothing from summer dresses, suits, casual tops and jackets. The bottom was lined with shoes of all types including at the end what appeared to be a pair of white shoes suitable for a young girl to wear with a bridesmaid dress or something equally fancy. I closed the wardrobe and moved to the chest of drawers, I was hoping one may hold some expensive jewellery of some sort, a pair of earrings or a single necklace surely wouldn't go amiss. I opened one of the small top drawers but found nothing other than various tights in black and tan mainly and some navy, blue and green. Closing this I looked into the one next to it. This drawer was full of underwear of a huge range of colours and styles. I stood staring into the open drawer and all of a sudden the realisation of what I was doing flooded into my mind. This was wrong. Once more my heart was thumping trying to escape my chest, I felt weak at the knees, what the hell was I doing?! I have broken into someone's house, I am a thief, a criminal! I can't be doing this, this isn't me. I needed to get out of there fast. Suddenly I heard movement behind me, I spun round as my breath caught in my throat, there was a flurry of movement as an arm swung down toward me and then, blackness. When I was 13 years old I had a job doing a paper round for a news agent near my parents' house. Each morning I would arrive at the shop at six o'clock and would set off on my hour loop of the neighbourhood delivering newspapers. After half a year, the owner of the newsagent began giving me more responsibilities. I was given my own set of keys to open up the shop in the mornings meaning I had to start a bit earlier each day. This meant I was alone in the shop for around half an hour each morning as I got the papers ready to be delivered. Around this time, the latest edition of the Grand Theft Auto video game was released and I was desperate to get it, but unfortunately my paper boy salary just wasn't going to be enough, not unless I waited a good 2 months. Being an impatient teenager, I had to have it as soon as possible. So, against better judgement, every now and then I began to take five pounds from the cash register before the shop owner arrived. I thought it would go unnoticed, but a little over a week later the owner called me into the back office of the shop and proceeded to play security camera footage of myself taking money from the register. He called my parents soon after and I was given a fair old telling off that day and needless to say I didn't continue to work there or get the videogame. The humiliation I had felt when he had pressed play on the security footage and the shame I had felt long afterward was enough to make me massively regret taking the money, not only because I had stolen from someone who had trusted me, but also that I had been so stupid to not think that a store may have security cameras. Needless to say this incident stayed with me long after and was brought to the forefront of my mind as I blearily began to regain consciousness. I opened my eyes, squinting in the bright light, the side of my head throbbed with pain and I was shivering. My eyes slowly began to focus as the memories of what had happened started to come back to me, I glanced around the room which seemed to be the attic I had seen stairs leading to earlier. It had been converted into a proper room but was fairly empty apart from a few cardboard boxes piled in the corner. The ceiling was slanted and painted a light cream colour, with a carpeted floor and large skylight, the source of the bright glare which wasn't helping my throbbing head. I went to stand up but as I brought my hands down I realised my right wrist had been handcuffed to the radiator I was sitting next to. "What the hell?" I cursed out loud as I tried to pull my wrist free from its restraint. The handcuffs rattled loudly but didn't give. I continued to struggle in the hope that the pipe of the radiator may break but it was futile and eventually I sat back against the wall panting heavily. "Ah you're awake." I jumped at the voice coming from the doorway and turned to see who it was, the woman I had seen earlier that morning getting into the car with her son stood leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a stern look on her face. "What the hell's going on? Let me go!" I yelled. "Shut up." she said angrily. She stepped toward me, "here's the situation, you broke into my house, damaged my property, attempted to steal my son's belongings and then as a final treat to yourself you thought you would have a root through my underwear, is that all correct?" "What? No... I..." I stuttered unsure what I should say. "Hmm, strange as my back door security camera seems to show you smashing the glass of my French window and then climbing in, and I know Luke didn't leave his Xbox sitting on the landing and well... I watched you look through my drawers myself so... the evidence is kind of stacked up against you." I looked down at the floor in embarrassment, unable to look her in the eye. "Don't worry, I haven't called the police, I thought I would give you a chance to explain your actions before getting them involved, maybe you have some brilliant justification for what you've done?" she said. "Well? Let's hear it then?" There was an agonizing silence as she leant on the wall opposite, looking down at me, I couldn't help feeling extremely guilty. "I... I... needed the money..." There was more awkward silence as I sat looking at the floor as the woman continued to stare at me. "What's your name?" she suddenly asked. "What?" I asked, the question taking me a bit by surprise. "What. Is. Your. Name?" she said again, putting emphasis on every word. "erm... it's Phillip..." I said, still unable to bring myself to look in her direction. "Well hello Phillip, my name is Deborah, I am the owner of this house you broke into." she said. "So Phillip, now that we are better acquainted maybe you will be a little straighter with me. What does a young man like yourself need money for so urgently that you had to break into a stranger's home?" "I... I just needed to... I... my rent, I was going to be kicked out, I didn't know what else to do, I'm sorry." "Well unfortunately sorry, won't fix my back window and your excuse certainly doesn't explain why you thought it necessary to root around in my underwear drawer either." she said standing up straight, "Well, I'm still not going to call the police." I looked up at her, it was only now I realised how tall she was, she was easily closing in on six foot, "thanks... thank you..." I said still shivering in my damp clothing. "Don't get too excited, I'm not letting you go yet either, I think you and me need to chat further. For now, you're going to stay in this room, you must be freezing so I will find you a robe or something you can wear instead" she said moving to leave the room. "Oh and Phillip," she said turning toward me, "No shouting for help, otherwise I will have no other option other than to call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering, maybe even sexual abuse, not sure how you would fair in a prison cell, do you?" I knew exactly how I would fair. I wouldn't survive a week. She left the room and closed the door behind he. I sat on the floor trying to work out what to do, if I tried to escape no doubt she would call the police immediately, I just couldn't risk it. My only hope was that she would be merciful and let me go if I played nice for now. The door opened again, and Deborah walked back in carrying a dressing gown. "I don't have much in the way of clothes that would fit you I'm afraid, even my son's clothes would be too big, so this shall have to do for now." I looked at the robe, it was a pale pink and fuzzy. It must have been hers. "Okay well you're going to need to get undressed so I'm going to un-cuff you, any funny business and you'll be back in the cuffs and the police will be on their way here, understand?" I nodded, "Okay good, hold out your wrist." she slipped a small key out of her trouser pocket and slipped it into the key hole of the cuff attached to my wrist, the device fell away and clattered against the radiator. I massaged my wrist which had gotten raw from rubbing against the metal. "Thanks," I muttered taking the robe from her. I stood up and moved to the back of the room to undress, when I turned around I saw that Deborah was still standing as if she were waiting for something. "Erm... I need to get changed..." "I know," Deborah replied curtly. "Well, aren't you going to go out?" I asked. "Why would I? I have a son, you haven't got anything I haven't already seen before, and I need to take your wet clothes to dry them. So, are you going to get dressed or am I going to have to help?" Dreading the idea of this woman undressing me, I pulled off my hoody and t-shirt before pulling down my sopping wet jeans. I began to wrap the warm robe around myself but Deborah stopped me short, "ahem, those as well please," she said pointing at my boxer shorts. "They're soaked through as well." I was about to protest but the words caught in my throat with a stern look from her. I quickly pulled off my boxer shorts and wrapped the robe around my naked body before being exposed for too long, "there we go, that wasn't too hard was it?" Deborah asked, scooping up my wet clothes from the ground. "I'm going to go and make you some lunch, you must be starving. If you promise to behave then you may come downstairs, but don't be trying to run off, not sure you would get very far in that anyway," she said with a strange smirk. I nodded and followed her toward the door. She was probably right though, the robe was far too big for me, I had to roll up the sleeves to free my hands and the bottom trailed along the floor. I followed Deborah downstairs and into the kitchen where she told me to sit at the large wooden table as she busied around in the kitchen making sandwiches. As she prepared lunch I sat in silence picking at the fabric of the robe. I glanced across at the French door which had a bit of wood taped over the pane I had broken through and the glass had been cleaned away, how long was I out for? I looked at my watch, 11:23 it read. I looked back toward Deborah, who I caught staring in my direction before quickly looking down at the slice of bread she was buttering. "So Phillip, how old are you?" she asked, seemingly as a way to fill the silence in the room. "Twenty five..." "Really? I would never have guessed, you look extremely young for your age, though I'm sure you've heard that before." If I had a pound for every time I'd heard it, it wouldn't have needed to break into your house, I thought to myself. "Well treasure those youthful looks, they won't last forever!" Deborah said with a sigh. "Do you have a job? I presume not seeing as you were attempting to rob me." she asked placing a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of water down in front of me. I explained about my zero-hour contract at the super market between bites and about my financial difficulties working such a job. Deborah seemed to look slightly concerned as she sat across from me. "I can't imagine how difficult that must be" she said placing her hand on my shoulder, "I had a tough life for a while so I know how you must feel. It's difficult when you're on your own trying to fend for yourself, it can feel like the whole world is against you." I nodded looking up into her bright green eyes, I was almost transfixed as she gave a flash of a sympathetic smile, but then the smile was gone, "but it doesn't exactly give you the right to steal someone else's property and invade their privacy like you have done today." I once more looked down as guilt washed over me. "So... I think we need to start to decide how you can make it up to me and my son." she stood up and took the empty plate from in front of me, "Luke has just left today for a week on a school football tour. I feel it may be best that you begin by maybe cleaning up that pigsty that he calls a bedroom for him, I was planning to do it while he was away anyway, but seeing as you're here I feel that would at least be a nice gesture don't you think?" she cupped my chin in her hand and lifted my face to look at her, our eyes met, I nodded in a trance. "Good," she said with a little smile that made butterflies tingle in my stomach. "But first I think you need to get cleaned up, I'll show you how the shower works, why don't you have a quick wash while I find you some more suitable clothes you can wear for the day, I feel that robe may be a tad too big for you." she said with a chuckle. I stood in the shower and let the hot water gush over me rinsing away all the anxiety and stresses of the day. I scrubbed my hands clean of the mud left by the spade using a sweet smelling shower gel Deborah had given to me, along with a large white fluffy towel which I proceeded to wrap myself in on stepping out of the shower. I sat on the closed toilet seat pondering my situation, I still felt the best thing to do right now was go along with Deborah's wishes and hope that her sympathy for me eventually gets the better of her and she lets me go without calling the police. What is cleaning a teenage boy's room to jail time and a criminal record? I'd definitely prefer the former over the latter. I opened the bathroom door and looked out into the hallway, "Phillip? Is that you?" I heard Deborah call from the spare room across the hall. "Erm yes." "Are you all finished in the shower? You managed to work it okay?" "Yes thanks, just drying off now." "Okay well why don't you come in here, I have some clothes for you to wear." I walked into the room with the towel wrapped around my waist, and noted a small pile of clothing on the bed, mostly obscured by Deborah who stood in front of it. "Okay, so there is good news and bad news," she said placing her hands on her hips. "What's wrong?" I asked "Well, I did manage to find you some clothes that I think will fit, unfortunately all of Luke's clothes are going to be too big on you, even with a belt the legs of the trousers will be over your feet, same with any of my clothes, so the only other option I had was from a bag of clothing I was keeping for the PTA of Luke's primary school which I had offered to take to a jumble sail. I had a root through and came up with some stuff, but I don't think you are going to be too thrilled." I held my breath in trepidation. "You see it's all girls' clothing..." "No, no way! I'm not wearing woman's clothing!" "Erm, no that's not what I said, I said girl's clothing, and frankly you don't have much of a choice do you?" Deborah stated crossing her arms. "What about the clothes I had, aren't they dry yet?" I asked. "No, I put them in the wash, besides it not like they really fitted you well either," she was right there, since having to cut back on my food shopping, most of my clothing was beginning to feel looser on me. "Listen, I've done my best to find the least girly stuff in the bag, and believe me, there is far worse in there, so you can either get dressed in what I've found for you or I can give the police a quick call to come drag you away stark naked? I mean what choice do you really have?" She was right there, wearing these clothes for a bit is a darn site better than the alternative, but the fact that these clothes were suited for a young girl, made me sick to my stomach. "Okay, fine, let's just get this over with," I sighed. "Excellent! That's the spirit!" she said clapping her hands together. "Okay, well I shall leave you to get yourself dressed, give me a shout if you need a hand with anything!" Deborah exclaimed as she left the room, closing the door behind her. I examined the pile of clothes on the bed, wincing and the prospect that I would soon be wearing them. I groaned as I picked up a pair of white knickers. They were fairly plain apart from a small lace trim that ran around the waistband and a small bow on the front. I looked at the label which said, Ages 13-14, surely they wouldn't fit a 25-year-old man regardless of how small I was, I thought to myself. With no small amount of trepidation, I dropped the towel and proceeded to pull them up my legs. Much to my shame they fit, well actually they were a little big on me. I quickly pulled on the rest of the clothing including a pair of girl's jeans, which had plastic jewels sewn onto the sides and a cream coloured long sleeved top with pictures of butterflies on the front. So much for least girly stuff you can find, I thought to myself as I pulled the top over my head. Both were sizes suitable for 11-12 years old and, to my dismay, fitted much better than the knickers. Lastly were a pair of white socks and purple trainers with a glittery star embossed on the side. I looked at myself in the mirror and immediately wished I hadn't, not that I looked like a girl or anything, but I certainly didn't look like a man either, more a boy dressed in his sister's clothes. I felt sick to my stomach. There was a soft knock at the door. "Phillip, are you all dressed?" Deborah asked from the other side of the door. "Yes," I mumbled, the door opened and Deborah entered beaming. "Oh fantastic! Does everything fit okay?" she asked, not even trying to keep the joy out of her voice. "Yes... thanks," I replied, deciding not to mention the knickers. "Well that's a relief, I was a little worried about some of the sizes," she said cryptically, "oh don't forget to tie your shoe laces, wouldn't want you tripping over and hurting yourself, here let me," She knelt down in front of me. "No really it's okay, I can tie my own shoe lace thanks," I said stepping back a little bit. "Don't be so silly," Deborah said, grabbing my leg and pulling it towards her and tying the laces of each shoe as I stood there feeling like an incapable little child. "There we are!" she said, patting the top of my shoe. She stood up in front of me, "Right then, you better get to work on cleaning Luke's room, I'll be keeping an eye on you so no trying to pocket anything while you're in there understand?" I nodded as I felt my face go red. "Good well off to it missy!" she said with a wink. She patted me on the back of my head as I walked out the door toward her son's room making me feel two foot tall. I spent the next few hours attempting to make headway in cleaning this teenage boy's room. As I moved around picking up clothing and various other bits of junk off of the floor I would catch a glimpse of the butterflies emblazoned across my chest or my hand would brush against the jewels sewn to the side of my jeans reminding me of what I was wearing, I felt a knot in my stomach every glance down at the purple trainers on my feet, how had this happened? I was supposed to be back home, having managed to pay rent, celebrating the fact I had a place to live for another month, but instead here I was, a captive of this woman, dressed in clothes of a preteen girl and acting as her own personal maid. I had no idea where anything went so decided the best thing to do would be to pile up the various books and comics that were spread across the floor and then I could ask Deborah where they all went. By the time six o'clock came round, I had numerous small piles dotted around the room. "How's it going in here?" Deborah asked, appearing at the doorway. "Yeah, okay, I'm just sorting out the books, though I'm not really sure where they are supposed to go." "Well it's already looking much better, I don't think Luke really has set places for his books, so just as long as they all look tidy on the shelves that will be okay." "Oh right okay," I said reaching for some text books that sat in the closest pile and setting them neatly on one of the free shelves. Deborah watched from the door in silence as I continued to clear the piles onto the shelves, she had this strange look on her face like her mind was elsewhere but still her eyes followed me as I moved round the room. I tried to ignore her as I placed the last of the comics on one of the higher shelves having to reach up on my tip toes to push them on, all the while totally aware of the way it made me look. "Oh I nearly forgot why I came up here," she suddenly said, coming out of her trance, "dinner is in the oven, it should be ready in about five minutes, why don't you come downstairs and set the table and then you can have something to eat." "It's okay thanks, I'd rather just get this finished." "It wasn't a request, come on," she replied sternly. Afraid of the consequences of disobeying this woman, I followed her out the room downstairs and laid out two places for the both of us at the kitchen table. Dinner consisted of fish fingers, beans and new potatoes, my serving was substantially smaller than the much larger serving Deborah placed down in front of herself. "Can you eat properly please, instead of like some kind of savage?" Deborah exclaimed as I began to wolf down the food. "Small mouthfuls, I don't want you choking dear." I slowed down to appease her, my focus on trying to keep her happy in hope she would let me go. As I ate, Deborah continued to ask questions about my work, living situation, and my lack of family and friends all of which I dutifully answered. "You know, you really do look cute in those clothes," she said, suddenly changing the subject, I felt blood rush to my cheeks as my eyes fixed on the few peas left on my plate. "In fact, I feel if we did something with your hair you would probably look quite like a girl." "Well I don't know about that," I weakly replied, a part of me unsure whether that were actually true. "Well I think you would, you do have very soft features and you are such a skinny little thing," she replied. I didn't reply I just looked down at my plate pushing the peas around with my fork. "Well, I think it's getting a bit too late to be finishing off Luke's room tonight, but you aren't leaving yet. You can sleep in the spare room tonight, why don't you wash these plates while I find you something to wear for bed time and then you can come upstairs and we shall get you ready." "Bed time? I'm not really that tired yet though," I complained. "Calm down, I said I'm just going to find you something to wear for bed, and you might as well get changed now, then we can watch some telly for a bit." Deborah headed upstairs while I washed up the plates from dinner in the sink, the cream sleeves of my top rolled up to my elbows. Deborah seemed set on keeping me here for longer than I anticipated, I decided I needed to try and find a way out of here. My best chance would be at night while she was asleep, I could sneak out the front door and get back home before she woke in the morning. After washing the dishes I headed upstairs to the spare room, as I entered Deborah quickly closed a draw and turned toward me. "Ahh there you are! Right come on then, get undressed and let's get you ready for bed." "Come on!" she said impatiently as I stood there. "Aren't you going to leave the room first so I can undress?" "Oh don't be so silly Phillip, do we have to go through this every time? I've seen it all before, now get those clothes off" she said frustrated at my lack of movement. Knowing she'd not budge, I sighed and began to take off my top, before kicking off my trainers and pulling down my jeans. "You can leave those on," Deborah said pointing at the white knickers I had put on that morning. "Though actually they look a little loose on you, it is amazing at how skinny you are, they'll have to do for tonight though". She turned toward the bed and picked up the garment that lay there folded neatly, "Here, put this on," she said passing me the item of clothing. I unfolded it and felt the familiar tightening in my stomach as I realised I was holding a girls nighty. "You can't be serious?" I asked looking from the nighty up to Deborah. "It's the best I could come up with so you're just going to have to make do, if it makes you feel any better just think of it as an added part of your punishment," she said sternly. I looked again at the nighty, it was pink covered in a print of smiling pandas. It was horrific. I took a deep breath and pulled the nighty over my head, deciding it would be better to stand in front of this woman covered up instead of just in a pair of knickers. "Excellent, you look so adorable!" Deborah said happily. "Right let's go watch a movie." I lay in bed that night waiting, listening. The rest of the evening had been a cringe worthy affair of sitting watching a movie with Deborah, me sitting awkwardly on one side of the couch in my little pink nightie which I was constantly aware of, while Deborah sat at the other end of the couch curled up sipping on a glass of wine. She had chosen the film, I was personally hoping for something maybe directed by Christopher Nolan or I would have even taken a Michael Bay film right then, but unfortunately I didn't get a choice in the matter, which is why we ended up watching Beauty and the Beast, which Deborah announced as being one of her favourites when she was a little girl. It was at least one of the few Disney films I was fairly aware of, and to be honest it wasn't all that bad and I had found myself engrossed in the plot by the end of it. As we watched I kept catching Deborah again staring at me out the corner of my eye, and quickly looking away if I looked in her direction. When the film had finished I had been chivvied off to the spare room for the night where I now lay waiting for my moment to escape. Without a clock in the room it was difficult to tell what time it was, but I reckoned by that point it must be close to, if not past midnight. I had heard Deborah head off to bed over an hour ago, and the house had been silent since. I needed to make my move. As quietly as I could, I slipped out of bed and tip toed toward the door. I slowly turned the handle and opened it a crack to look out onto the landing. All seemed quiet. I quietly shut the door again to decide what to do. I knew I needed to sneak out the house and make a dash for home, but there was no way I was going to do that wearing this girly nightie. I looked round the room for something else to wear but the only other clothing was the outfit I had worn that day. It was all I had, and it was a darn sight better than the nightie. I quickly pulled off the nightie flinging it on the bed before putting back on the jeans, top and slipping the purple trainers onto my bare feet. After getting dressed I once more quietly opened the door and began to slowly creep downstairs trying to stay as quiet as possible, holding my breath at every creak of the stairs under my feet. Once I made it to the bottom, I moved toward the front door and tried the latch. I turned the handle down and pulled the door toward me. It didn't budge. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy. The door seemed to be locked with a key, so I went back to the hallway to look for a set of keys. I had spotted a key rack on the wall in the hallway, I looked through the various sets of keys and realised there was no way I was going to find the right one in time, let alone do it without making any noise. I decided to try and get out the same way I got into the house in the first place, through the back door. I headed into the kitchen and made my way to the French windows, trying the handles showed them to be locked as well. I knelt down and examined the board that had been taped over the broken pane, this would be my way out. I began to slowly pull the tape off the top of the board, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once the top bit of tape was off, I began to pull off the bottom piece of tape, but I didn't get half way before my escape attempt came to an abrupt end. Suddenly the light in the kitchen came on. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!" Deborah was standing at the entrance to the kitchen in her pyjamas glaring at me furiously. "You break into my house, try to steal from me and then after getting caught you think you can just leave when you feel like it?!" "I... I was just..." "Shut up! No more excuses, no more sympathy!" she moved toward me grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me out of the kitchen. "oww! What are you doing! Get off me!" I struggled against her tight grip but it was no use, with ease she pulled me up the stairs and back into the spare room where I suffered the shame of being undressed like a child and the nightie being pulled back over my head. "Get back into bed this insant!" Deborah angrily said, folding back the duvet. Sheepishly I climbed back into bed and Deborah pulled the covers back over me tightly. "I don't want to hear another sound out of you tonight, do you understand?" I nodded quickly. "I asked you a question young lady, do you understand?!" Young lady? I thought to myself, was that a slip of the tongue or a purposeful jab at my current situation, I'm not sure which I would have preferred it being. "Yes, I understand" I mumbled. "Good, now I'm locking this door, so don't be trying anything else and there are going to be some changes starting tomorrow, you clearly haven't nearly begun to learn your lesson." Deborah closed the door behind her, and I heard the click of the lock behind her. I lay in bed trying to process what just happened. She had treated me as someone would a naughty child, she had undressed me and put that nightie back on me and I'd done nothing to stop her. What was happening to me? What was going to happen to me? This all played around in my head long into the night as I tossed and turned, but I finally drifted into a restless sleep.