Billie's Christmas Present free porn video

Billie's Christmas Present Bill's team was in a hard-fought battle with their little league archenemies. They had split their previous two games and this was for the championship. It was the bottom of the last inning, the score was tied, and Bill was up to bat with the bases loaded and two outs. The pitcher watched him dig in at the plate. He had already struck Bill out three times and he was quite sure that he could do it again. Bill crouched as low as he could. His plan was to present as small a target as possible and pray for a walk. The guys on the team often regarded him with disdain for his lack of offensive ability. Sure, he was a good defensive second baseman, but he was a real lightweight at the plate. At only five feet tall, he was small for his age, taking after his mother. His lack of size had a negative effect on his self- confidence among his peers. He was often teased asking if the old-time Dodger shortstop 'Pee Wee Reese' was his favorite ballplayer. He would just smile at the insult. It was as if the pitcher knew what he was thinking because the first ball was right down the middle and called a strike. Bill stepped out of the batter's box and wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. The catcher said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Come on kid. Get back in there. You know there is no chance in hell you can hit my pitcher." With a determined look on his face, Bill stepped back up to the plate and dug his cleats into the batter's box, crowding the plate. Again, the ball was straight as an arrow right down the middle. What Bill did next shocked everyone even his coach. He assumed his normal stance. Again, the pitcher threw his fastball right down the center of the plate. Bully had no chance of hitting it with a swing so he did the unexpected. He placed a perfect bunt down the first base line. No one bunts with two outs and two strikes! Bill had the advantage of surprise. He didn't have the bulk to be a slugger and lacked the power of his teammates, but he was the fastest kid on the field. He raced to first leaving behind a cloud of dust and a string of curses from the opponents. The coach on third recognized what was happening and yelled at all the runners to go. The first baseman fielded the ball and raced Billy to the bag. That was a race Bill would never lose and he was standing on the bag as the winning run crossed home plate. Bill was mobbed by his teammates. He was a hero. After all the congratulations, had died down, the team invited Bill to join them at the local burger joint to celebrate. Bill had to pass, he didn't have any money. Ever since his father had taken off, 'to find himself', money had been real tight at home. His single mother tried, but as a waitress made just enough to feed and house them. His deadbeat father only provided alimony and child support on an occasional basis. It wasn't all his father's fault though. When his parents divorced, Bill and his older sister, Millie, remained at home and lived with their mother. Then, six months later, Millie had been invited by her father to accompany him for a ski vacation. Bill was considered too young to go with his sister. There had been that terrible car accident on the snow packed roads of Colorado. It hospitalized his father with a bad back and killed his sister. Bill thought he would lose his mother when she heard the news of her only daughter's death. Millie and his mother had always been close, but were inseparable once his dad had run off. Bill was jealous of not only the time they spent together, but the closeness they established. He had felt like a fifth wheel and was not included in womanly things they did like shopping, going through fashion magazines, and watching chick flicks on the TV. Being a boy, he was not asked to join them. When Millie was killed, his mom emotionally shut down. If it hadn't been for his Grandmother 'Me Maw', Bill was sure the family would have fallen apart. She lived only 20 minutes away and Bill got to see her weekly as she hosted a big fancy dinner every Sunday after church. After his teammates and their parents had disappeared. Bill took out a rubber band from his pocket and put his long blond locks in a ponytail. His hair didn't contribute much to his masculine appearance but Bill kept it because it was the current fashion for men to have long hair. Besides, with money so tight, if he wanted his hair cut his mother would do it in the kitchen. That was a disaster every time. So, he went with the long hair fashion statement, much to his mother's chagrin. Hopping on his old bike, he headed home. Halloween had been only two days ago, and he still had almost a full bag of candy leftover. He would celebrate by stuffing his face with candy before his mother got home. Halloween was now the only holiday he enjoyed. It didn't put any pressure on his mother to get him stuff. Two years in a row he wore his baseball uniform as a costume. Sadly at 13 he knew this was probably his last year trick and treating. Christmas was coming, a time he looked forward to with mixed feelings. Since his parents had split up, his only presents were those that he got in his stocking. They never amounted to much but it was something that brought him great joy. As he hit Elm Street, the chain on his bike broke again. Luckily, he only had three blocks to go. Boy...he wished for a new bike for Christmas, but there is no way one would fit in his size 7 sock. He got off the bike and resigned himself to pushing it on the sidewalk. With his attention focused on the ground right in front of him, he almost missed it. There in the gutter was a fancy bag from a shop in the mall, someplace called Chrissy's. He kicked it with his foot and realized there was something in it. He carefully peered inside and was disappointed, it was only something girlie. He thought it was a pair of pantyhose but, upon closer inspection, it was a pair of knee high stay ups. Whatever those were. He took one out and closely examined it, it was a woman's stocking of some kind. At first, he thought maybe he could save it for a Christmas present for his mother; but the size chart on the package told him that they were way too small for his mother. It was then the idea hit him. Even though it was marked as being size small, it was stretchy and could hold a lot of stuff. He came up with a plan. He would hide it until he hung his stocking up. Santa would have a chore filling this stocking. He got home and hid his treasure among his stockings. He dropped his dirty uniform on the floor and took a quick shower. Then sat down in the kitchen, put his earbuds in, and zoned out to his tunes. He ate three candy bars and washed them down with a glass of milk. Before putting the candy bag away, he took out a cherry sucker and went to town on that. He was still high from his baseball accomplishment and couldn't wait until his mother got home to tell her about it. @ @ @ @ Helen, his mother, arrived a little after 6, tired from a long day as a waitress at the local diner. She was again disappointed that her son had not started dinner. She entered the kitchen and gave him a loving hug. She could tell he was really excited about something. She held him at arm's length and noticed his red lips, it looked almost like the remnants of lipstick. She was too tired to handle that puzzle so she trudged up the stairs to change out of her waitress uniform. Putting on her old worn housedress, she headed down to the kitchen to start their dinner. She sighed as passed her son's bedroom with its open door and she saw his uniform was in a pile on the floor. He was really a good kid, never got into any trouble, and received good grades in school. But he was far from being perfect. He had inherited his father's sexist attitude about women and their roles around the house. He religiously did only what he thought was men's work. He cut the grass and took out the garbage. It would seem household chores even putting his dirty laundry in the wash were beneath him. She really wished he would take some of the pressure off her by helping more around the house doing what he referred to as woman's work. She walked into his room and gathered up his dirty clothes and threw them into the hamper. Walking by his open sock drawer she saw that things were a jumbled mess. She started to neaten things up when she had the shock of her life. In the back of the drawer she uncovered a package of woman nylons. Could this be what her son was so excited about? At first, she though they were a present for her until she noticed the size and that they were for young girl. One stocking had been removed and stuffed back into the package. Examining it, it was obvious that it had been stretched-out as if it had been worn. She shrugged and wondered if something was going on. Could his red lips really be lipstick? Or her first second thought was her son had a mystery girlfriend visiting while she was out. She dismissed that as Bill had shown no interest in the ladies. Notwithstanding his efforts to be macho, his frail size made him unlikely to attract any teenage girl. His long blond hair, total lack of facial hair, delicate facial features with his small pointed chin had always seemed more feminine than masculine. Combined with his insistence on wearing his hair shoulder length, meant he was frequently mistaken for a preadolescence girl. For the first time, Helen wondered if that was really her son's intention. Her heart leapt in excitement. She had so missed the mother-daughter times she had with Millie. She had never been close with her son. He gravitated more toward his father. Never having had any brothers growing up, she had no clue how young boys evolved from teenagers to men. Her next thought was that he was experimenting with women's clothes as a way of exploring his sexuality. She had always thought he was too pretty to be a boy. She wondered if this wasn't a plea for help. Between the recent news controversies over bathrooms and the Jerry Springer show, she was familiar with the entire transgender issue. Could her son be one of those? She wasn't crazy about her son being a transvestite and prayed if he was into women's clothes she would rather he be transgender where he could be a real woman. But she loved him more than life itself. She would support and even encourage him at whatever lifestyle he chose. As long as he was happy. She had no idea how boys thought or acted. But if her female intuition was correct, her son had a girlie side. She knew that was not socially acceptable but if that made him happy, she would welcome having another female around the house, even if it was just make-believe. She took a deep breath to consider her options. There was no way she could simply come out and ask her son Bill if he would rather be her daughter Billie. She needed to tread very carefully here. She put the nylons back the way she found them and came up with a plan. In small steps, she would test her son's reaction to feminine activities. She went to her daughter's old bedroom that had been left virtually untouched since her death. She retrieved two pair of underpants, one of plain silk and a frilly lace pair. She put them in his underwear drawer and removed most of his boy pants and threw them in the hamper to wash. She planned to check on them every few days to see if they had been worn. She then went to her vanity and placed her makeup in locations she could remember so if they were moved she would know. Her trap was set. Now she had to wait and see what happens. If Bill asked about the underwear, she could claim they were mixed in with his stuff by mistake. She entered the kitchen and started dinner. She asked Bill to help by cutting up some vegetables. While doing so, his hair kept falling into his eyes. To save money she had been cutting his hair for the past few years, when he would let her. Helen casually commented like she did frequently that he needed a haircut. Bill did not want to hurt her feelings about her abilities as a barber. He simply shrugged off the comment like he did every time the subject came up and replied, "Whatever." That night as Bill lay in bed he conflicted about his Christmas plan. He knew his mother didn't have much money. He felt a pang of regret for his greed. He would have to do something special to repay his mother. What that was he had no idea. He just prayed something would come up. The next day at school, his teammates were engaged in their typical horse play during lunch and managed to break the rubber band holding his hair. His blond locks were everywhere, completely covering his face. He was totally embarrassed and he thought the teasing from his friends couldn't get any worse until Jill Hawthorn, the student body present and hottest girl in school, came to his rescue and offered him a black scrunchie to hold his hair in place. He was reluctant to accept her offer but she wouldn't take no for an answer and merely stepped behind him and did up his hair. She remained behind Bill, the sweet smell of lilacs engulfing him. Bill stood in place afraid to move. Then slender arms encircled his waist and gripped his hips with delicate hands. Holding him firmly, Jill commented, "With your slim stature, I bet you do a lot of dieting." Bill was flustered and could only get out, "No, I do a lot of running." Jill added in playful manner, "I wish I had your physique. Everything that passes my lips goes straight to my hips." It was one of those days, later in gym class all the boys were recovering from the mandatory three laps. The teacher in front of all the boys. Jokingly asked Bill what happened to your chest? It looks like someone stepped on it and caved it in." Everyone except Bill laughed. Bill blushed beet red at the comment and was determined to start exercising. Beginning immediately when he got home. @ @ @ @ With his bike, out of commission, Bill ran all the way home. Throwing his books on the couch, he sat on the living room floor and started doing sit-ups. He stopped only when he couldn't get up anymore. He rolled over onto his stomach and started doing pushups. He kept at that until his arms felt like rubber. He couldn't do any more regulation push-ups so rather than doing them on his toes he did them from his knees. He was laying there catching his breath when he heard his mother at the front door. Helen had never seen her son exercising before. She wondered what had gotten into him. "What are you doing Bill?" "Just exercising, I want to do something to develop my chest. I'm tired of being so flat on top. Helen smiled and recognized he was doing girl pushups. When she was in school, the belief was doing those were a way to increase your bust. She wondered if that was her son's goal. She commented to him, "Well carry on, I am going to make dinner, you have about 30 more minutes for your exercises. Just make sure you wash up before sitting down." During dinner, Bill sheepishly asked if there was enough money for him to get a haircut. On the way in from work, the mail held a letter from her ex. In it was three month's back payment for alimony and child support. It also contained a promise to send a check every month as he had found a job as a cross country truck driver. She told her son about their financial windfall so for once there was plenty of money for extravagances like professional haircuts and such. Helen looked at her son and replied, "Yes dear, I will get off early Friday and we can go after you get home from school." She saw this as an ideal chance to try out her plan. @ @ @ @ That Friday, Helen picked Bill up school and they drove to the local mall. Helen led Bill into the huge complex. Bill was confused; this isn't where he remembered his barber being. Helen led him to a salon where Billy balked at entering, until his mother pointed out a sign advertising this store specialized in Unisex cuts. He thought, 'Great I can still keep my long hair just neaten it up a bit.' A cute teenage girl escorted Bill to a chair where he was covered with a white cape. His mother went and talked to the stylist in hushed whispers who nodded her understanding. The stylist started by shampooing his hair in a sweet-smelling shampoo. Bill just relaxed and enjoyed the experience. His mother sat in a chair and intently studied her son's reaction to the pampering. She wondered why she hadn't recognized earlier that his insistence on having long hair was an acceptable way for a young man to express his feminine side while still remaining in the mainstream of masculinity. When the stylist was done with her son's long hair it looked thick and shiny. Where before it had the frizzies and had a tendency to fly all over when it wasn't in a ponytail, it now flowed down the back of his head and just touched his collar in a neat wave. The girl explained she had merely trimmed the split ends so his hair was still longish. Helen was delighted. There was no doubt that the effect was undecidedly feminine with the ends in a girly flip curl. Helen thought that if this isn't what he wanted she would know almost immediately by his reaction. Bill got out of the chair and Helen told him to wait outside while she paid the bill. Bill stood out in the corridor and looked at his reflection in the glass for the first time. He thought he would be sick at what he saw. His mother seemed so happy at how it had turned out, so how could he tell her that he hated it without breaking her heart? Just then, Jill led a gaggle of other girls from his school into view. He looked for someplace to hide when he heard a squeal. Jill ran over and engulfed him in a hug. Standing there with his hair in her hands she asked him, "How do you keep your hair looking so good?" Bill was sure he was about to be teased about his girlie haircut. Since Jill seemed to love it; all her click fell in line with their leader. The other girls chimed in agreeing how great it was. Bill had never had this much attention from the other sex. He was floating on a teenage hormone high. Helen came out of the salon to see her son surrounded by a pack of girls. She asked, "Well girls, what do you think of Bill's new fashion statement?" In unison, they all responded with a chorus of, "We love it!" Jill then added, "Every girl in school is going to be jealous." Helen announced, "We were going to grab a burger before heading home. Would you young ladies care to join us?" The group pushed together three tables and had a grand time chatting. Billy was the center of attention and he was lapping it up. As they got up to leave, everyone returned their trays. Kim returned first and cornered Bill. She was the fashionista of the group and commented, "Bill, when are you going to get your ears pierced? All the popular guys are doing it." Helen overheard the comment and told Bill, "There is a kiosk on the way out. Would you like to do that?" Several of the girls had joined in and strongly encouraged Bill. They even offered to help him select his first pair of earrings. Bill was uncertain about going through with it as the girls ushered him to the kiosk. He told himself that he had no other choice. He sat on the chair and nervously waited to get his ears done. His mother stood and watched with a grin as wide as her face. When he was asked what, he wanted for his first earrings he turned to his new fan club and told them to select. Jan asked what his birth month was. Helen said his birth month was July. So, Bill left with two ruby red studs in his ears that stood out like Rudolph's nose. Helen watched for Bill's reaction. He had never seemed so happy and she was convinced that she was on the right path. She was still planning on going slow and see where this all led. She hadn't felt this good in years. Monday morning, Bill sat eating breakfast. His mother must have commented a dozen times about how much she liked his new style. Bill hadn't seen her mother so chipper, normally she was majorly depressed about going to work. He decided if all it took was a new hair style to bring her such joy he would stick with it. His mother deserved to be happy. For the first time in a long time he was looking forward to going to school. He was sure his exploits on the diamond would be the subject of talk among his teammates. He also anticipated his new unisex look would still attract the girls like it did at the mall. He was standing at his locker when Tom, the school's quarterback, 'accidentally' bumped into him, causing Bill to slam up against the lockers and drop his books. As Tom walked away, he sarcastically said, "Excuse me, miss." As Bill bent to pick up his things, he found Jill right there, helping him. She said, "Don't pay any attention to Tom, he's a jealous jerk. I told him how I adore your new look. He doesn't like me talking about other guys. If I were you I would watch my back until he calms down." Bill went between his classes as fast as he could with a watchful eye. On his way to lunch, Elaine cornered Bill in the hallway. As one of the popular girls, she had never spoken to him before. "Hi, Bill can I ask you a question?" "Sure Elaine. What can I do for you?" "There is a bet going around among my friends. You have never had a date with a girl that I am aware of. Now with your new pretty hair style, I say you are gay, some disagree. Can you settle the argument for us?" Bill gave her a deadpan stare and answered, "I only like girls. Does that answer your question?" Elaine nodded, "Sure, no offense intended." She walked away, not totally convinced. Bill went into the bathroom and put his head under a faucet to thoroughly soak his hair and then slick it down. Bill went home and sat at the kitchen table to do his homework. He was just finishing up when he heard his mother come in. She called out a cherry hello until she saw him. She stopped dead in her tracks and her smile turned to a frown. "Bill, what happened to your hair? It was so cute this morning." Bill recognized her disappointment immediately. He just couldn't let her down so he said, "I took a shower got my hair wet and didn't know how to fix it." "Oh, that's no problem. I would be delighted to show you how to get those lovely, bouncy curls back." Helen bounded over to her son and gave him a hug, "Let's go upstairs and I will show you how to repair the damage." She sat him at her vanity and plugged in her curling iron. It took only a few minutes to restore it to its feminine finery. Bill wanted to cry but kept a smile on his face for his mother's sake. Once she was finished she said, "Let's go out to eat. There is somethings I want to get you." After a quick dinner at the local fast food joint, they went to Walmart. His mother bought him his own curling iron, a hair brush and some bath products designed to keep his locks looking full and luscious. Then she bought him a shower cap, to protect his hair in the shower. Bill wanted to vomit. The cap was pale yellow and decked out with a small flower design. He kept his feelings hidden and merely thanked his mother. Helen was almost euphoric at their new treasures. She couldn't wait to get home and set up Bill's bathroom. She put his shampoo, conditioner and bubble bath next to the tub. She made a mental note to pick up a vanity with a mirror for his bedroom. When Bill was getting ready for bed, she checked on his underwear drawer. She saw that the feminine ones were untouched. Over the next few days, Helen made it a point to not do laundry. Finally, Bill was out of clean underpants. He looked at his choice in the drawer and decided he would go commando and not wear any. At breakfast, he confronted his mother, "Mom, I'm running out of clean clothes, when are you going to do the laundry?" Helen smiled at him and calmly replied, "If you want clean clothes do the laundry yourself. I have more important things to do." "But Mom, that's a girl's job!" His mother excoriated her son for his sexist remark. "Bill, this is the 21st Century, gender stereotypes are out. Lots of men help around the house. If you want a continuous supply of clean clothes, I suggest you learn to do it." "Give me a break Mom." "Bill, you get home hours before I do, all you have to do is your homework. You never seem pressed for time. I'll tell you what, I could really use some help around here. How about I pay you." "What will I have to do?" "You can do all the laundry, cook dinner during the week, and clean up after." "Oh, come off it Mom. That sounds like you want me to be your maid." Wagging her finger in his face she went on, "Look at it any way you want. It gives me a break and puts some spending money in your pocket." Bill gave it some serious thought and by the time he finished his dinner had decided to take the job. Rationalizing it was no different than working in a fast food joint like a lot of his older friends. @ @ @ @ Every day he would leave for school with his hair in a feminine flip. He would immediately rush to the school bathroom and wet his hair so it laid down flat. When he got home he went to his new vanity and repaired the damage so his mother wouldn't be disappointed. She daily commented how much she liked his new style. Bill hated it but liked making his mother smile. The charade went on for several weeks, until a pack of girls cornered him at lunch. "Bill, I have seen you when you come to school. Your hair is always looking fabulous, so why do you wet it down and try and hide it? Don't you like it? All of us love it and have commented to our boyfriends we wished they would take the time with their personal appearance." "I do like it." Then not leaving well enough alone he added, "I love it and can't wait to try different styles." The girls were deliriously excited arguing over what hair style would look best on Billie as they now all called him. The next week, Bill was doing the dishes after the evening meal and Helen heard him swear. She went to check on her son and found him fuming standing at the sink. "What's the matter, honey?" "I spilled soapy water all over my shirt and jeans. Now I will have to do a load of wash so I will have something to wear tomorrow." Helen rushed to his rescue, "Here honey. From now on, wear this it will keep your things clean." "Come off it. That's a frilly apron. Hel...heck, it is covered in lace, I will look like a girl wearing that." Helen smiled to herself and thought, 'I love it when a plan comes together'. "I see your problem." Helen then told a little white lie. "Besides it is the only apron I own. There is no one around to see you. So, it's this or nothing. You decide, wear it or take the chance of having to do the laundry every day." Bill put it on and tied the bow in back like he had been doing it all his life. Helen came up behind her son and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. A few days later, she came home and found her laundry neatly folded on her bed. Rather than be delighted at the extra effort Billie had done, she decided this was a good teaching moment. She called Bill. She showed him that her dresses and blouses were wrinkled. She informed him that his job required him to iron her things, not just fold them when they came out of the drier. Bill started to argue but; seeing the fatigue in his mother's face, agreed. He would do that as well as his other chores. Helen came home the next day and was welcomed by the wonderful aroma of dinner in the oven. The table was set and her son was standing in the living room in his lace apron, his hair beautifully done up. He was ironing her extra uniform. She went and examined what he had done and lavished him with praise, "This is as good as any professional laundry." Making his mother happy, Bill felt on top of the world. Helen continued to check on the soft undies she had placed among his undershorts. She was sure her son wanted to wear them. He just needed a push so that his hyper masculinity didn't feel guilty. She came up with a workable plan. She went through his underwear with a fine-tooth comb and threw away anything that showed any wear. When Bill was down to the bare minimum she announced that she was going shopping. When Bill went to his dresser the next morning, he found nothing but white cotton 'Haines for Her' underwear. He was furious and went to confront his mother with a pair dangling from his index finger. "Mom, what's up with these?" "Oh, you found them. Aren't they wonderful? I am sure you'll love them. I went to the regular store and found out how much jockey shorts cost. So, I was forced to go to Goodwill. They were having a sale, 12 for the price of 10. They're seconds, but the imperfections were so small I couldn't find them." "But Mom, they're for girls." "So, do you plan on showing your underwear to anyone? "No, of course not." "I left you a few pair of yucky boy shorts for days when you have gym. "Try one on and show me how the fit. If it doesn't fit, I'll return them." Bill went to his room and tried them on, praying they were the wrong size. He reluctantly had to admit they fit and were more comfortable than his jockey shorts. After working up the nerve, he went to show his mother. She almost swooned over seeing him model them for her. He was as noncommittal as he could be, not wanting to encourage his mother. Helen watched her son as she had him walk around the room with an almost feline grace. His new underwear lifted and molded his heart shaped backside. The way they hugged his posterior made it wiggle seductively with his every step. She observed his movements with a critical eye and thought, 'What he lacked on top was compensated for by his derri?re.' She couldn't wait to see what high heels would do for his walk. Helen noticed they held his 'boy' parts snugly and almost presented a feminine front. "Well dear, don't you have to admit they feel great?" Bill blushed a bright red, and grudgingly mumbled, "Yes mom, they are comfortable." Helen clapped with glee, "Think of all the money we saved! I plan on doing all my clothes shopping at good Goodwill from now on." Bill turned and walked to his room muttering under his breath, "Just fucking great." Things went well for several weeks, then on a Saturday, Helen decided they would clean out the basement. It was dirty work, sweeping and cleaning their storage area. Both parties were covered in dirt when they got to a large trunk in the very back. Helen let out a whoop of elation. "Bill, do you know what that is?" "Not a clue!" "This was your sister's cedar Hope Chest. I gave it to her when she became a woman." Bill looked at his mother with a funny expression, "But she was only 16 when she died." "I know dear. That term is in reference for when Millie had her first period. Please take it upstairs and put it in her old room so we can go through it later. After you have done that, go take a bath and get cleaned up. I'll call out for pizza. How does that sound?" "This thing is heavy, it will take me a while to get it upstairs." "That's alright. I'll run you a hot bath, you can soak in it." @ @ @ @ It took Bill a long time to get the large trunk out of the basement and up the flight of stairs to his sister's bedroom. By the time, he was done, he was exhausted and looking forward to a bath, his whole body ached. He dropped his dirty and sweaty clothes in his room, grabbed his robe and headed to the bathroom. His mother was just leaving as he walked in. Bill took one look at the tub and challenged his mother, "Mom, what the heck is going on?" "Why Bill, what's the matter is the water too hot?" "No, it's a bubble bath." "I know. You have worked so hard today. It's a reward I thought it would be more relaxing. Don't complain until you have tried it." Bill lowered himself into the hot water and found not only was it a bubble bath but it had a very strong lavender smell to it. Nonetheless, he lay in the water and found his mother was right, it was relaxing. He lost track of time and dozed off. He was awakened by his mother knocking on the door and inquiring if he was alright. "Yes Mom, I'm fine, I'm just getting out now." He stood and brushed the bubbles that were clinging to his body. He stepped out just as his mother walked in. "Please mother, I'm not dressed." She dismissed his concerns with the wave of her hand, "Relax, it is nothing I haven't seen before." She then handed him a warm towel she had just taken from the drier. She left to let him dry himself and put on his bathrobe. She hadn't seen him without clothes in years. She marvelled at how his body hadn't started to develop. To her eye, his man package was insignificant. She thought, 'If he gets married that is nothing his wife will write home about.' His lack of size and light blond peach fuzz body hair came from her side of the family. She wondered if his lack of manly development might attribute to his questioning his gender. Bill headed for his room to get dressed. His mother intercepted him and asked for his help in Millie's room. He mumbled, "What now?" "Bill, come here please. While you were in your bath I have been looking through Millie's stuff in the trunk and in her closet. It's a shame to let them all rot away in storage. Your sister was a real clothes horse. Not only is her trunk full, but her closet and dresser are overflowing with everything a teenage girl could want. How about helping me decide what to keep, what goes to Goodwill, and what we might even want to sell? But before we make any decisions, I need to determine what shape they are in. I would also like to decide what is still in style; maybe we could have a rummage sale and make some money." "Sure mom, what is it you need me to do?" "You are about the same size as your sister." Bill didn't like where this was headed. He replied "Yeah, so what?" "Can I get you to model them so I can determine their fate?" Bill thought, 'Their fate or mine?' "Mom, you're crazy, that is such a Scooby Doo idea. I won't do it!" Helen immediately broke down and ran to her bedroom sobbing. Bill was conflicted, he didn't want to play girlie dress up; but he also didn't want to hurt his mother's feelings. He went to his bed room and sat down and tried to figure out what to do. He could hear his mother sniffling. It broke his heart. He went to her door and lightly tapped on it. "Come in." Helen was lying on the bed, her shoes on the floor next to her. She sat up, her face puffy from crying. "I wish you wouldn't cry mother. I'm sorry for being so stubborn, if it means that much to you. I'll wear whatever you want." Helen gave a deep satisfied sigh. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. She grabbed her son and gave him a reassuring hug. "That's great Billie. First, I would like you to go to your room and fixed your hair, it's a mess. Lose the robe, just put on a pair of your new underwear then come back to Millie's room. Once the panties were on, he stopped outside the bedroom door feeling foolish and unable to go in. Helen was getting impatient and called out, "Billie get in here this instant! I'm tired of all your tomfoolery." Her impatience was clearly evident. "But it's cold with nothing on top." "I'll take care of that. Now do as you are told if you are really sorry for hurting my feelings!" "Yes ma'am." Helen sat on her daughter's bed with a pretty pink chiffon dress spread out next to her. She was feeling really good how things were going. She thought to herself, 'you can't push a string, I have to let him progress at his own pace.' Bill returned his arms wrapped around his chest to ward off the chill. To save money, their household heat was always kept low. His mother asked if he was cold, "Yes, I'm freezing! Can't I put on an undershirt?" "We'll take care of that in a minute honey. Once you're dressed you'll be warm. Wait and see." With that she handed him one of his sister's padded bras. Bill resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Uh Mother, you can't be serious. That skimpy thing isn't going to cover much, besides I have nothing to put in it." "Honey, that is why it's padded. Besides it is just the first layer. I need to get the complete picture of what the dresses look like. Now stick your arms out, I'll help you get this on." "Mom, can we discuss this?" "Billie, relax this is needed if you are going to help me. You still are going to help, aren't you?" Bill wanted to say no, but his mother's enthusiasm convinced him to let her have her fun. "Sure, I am mom." The look of pure glee on her face told Bill he had made the right decision. Helen hooked it up and adjusted the straps. She was pleased her son hadn't put up a bigger fight about wearing a bra. She was sure his mild protests were simply to protect his manly pride. She was determined to provide him a guilt free outlet for his suppressed feminine desires. She stood back and examined her son ordering him to stand up straight and keep his shoulders square. His mother frowned and said, "Tsk-tsk, that will never do" Bill saw a ray of hope and relaxed. His euphoria only lasted a few seconds as his mother went on to say, "Your sister had blossomed into a very mature figure for her age, but early on she wasn't so lucky. I believe there are some silicon enhancers your sister used before her form blossomed. They will give you the proper shape to fill out her dresses." Helen ducked into Millie's closet and rummaged through a couple of boxes to retrieve two realistic breasts forms. Bill steadied himself; he was ready for a showdown with his mother. She had gone too far this time. Helen returned with two small skin coloured piles of wiggly looking flesh. From her life experiences, she was convinced every male had a fixation with large breasts, equating them with femininity. She advanced on her son, like a lion closing in on a wounded prey. His mind went blank; he stood in stunned silence, riveted to the floor. His mouth opened and closed like a freshly landed fish. She slipped them into the bra cups and again adjusted the straps. He didn't move, the sissification of his predicament only added to his shame. He felt the addition of faux breasts took away the last vestiges of his masculinity. He felt dizzy but was resigned to his fate. He couldn't think of any way to persuade his mother this was all a mistake without crushing her feelings. He decided to suck it up and soldier on. Helen stepped back satisfied that she had given him a decent sized bosom. She thought, 'With the padded bra and enhancers and with the underpants pulled up snugly his true anatomical shape was hard to discern and could easily be mistaken for a biological female.' She mused, 'By the time, Millie left home she had graduated to a full D cup bra. I have heard large breasts are passed down from mother to daughter. I wonder how large Billie would like to end up.' Out loud she commented, "There that will allow the dresses to hang perfectly on you". She was sure that deep down that was what he wanted. She went to the bed and slipped the pink chiffon dress over his head. She went behind him and zipped it up. She took a step back and said, "Dear me, that will never do. Your sister must have been taller than you because that dress is dragging on the ground." "Can I take it off?" "Don't be silly there is another solution; don't move I'll be right back." Bill could smell a rat. He did as he was told and awaited his mother's return. Helen hurried to her closet and found just what she was looking for. She suspected Bill's feet were closer to her size than his sister, she returned with a pair of white three-inch wedge sandals. "Here put these on." "Mother, I will break an ankle wearing high heels." "Nonsense, you're an athlete you can handle something every girl in the country can do. Besides they are a wedge style, it's not like I'm asking you to wear stilettos." He slipped his feet into the shoes; his mother got down on a knee to adjust the straps and secure them to his feet. She stood up and offered her hand to her son and led him around the room. It only took two laps and he was ready to go without his training wheels, she let go of him and stood back and watched. "That's great honey, how does it feel?" "To be honest, I do like being taller. Do you think they make these in a man's style?" Helen smiled at the small quip. "Is that all you feel?" Inquired his mother. What he wouldn't say was, aside from added height from the heels, Bill was acutely aware of the way the soft fabric tickled his legs. He would die before admitting he was beginning to like the experience. Helen had to ask, "Can you honestly tell me you don't find wearing a dress more comfortable than your jeans." "Okay Mom, I'll give you that one. But I can't imagine sliding into second base in one." Helen giggled at that. "Just one more thing and then we can eat. Walk into your room and sit down at the vanity and let me fix your hair and I'll add just a touch of makeup." Bill sighed in exasperation and thought, 'what the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. As long as it makes Mother happy.' He got to his vanity and sat, very pleased with himself that he made it that far. Rather than congratulations from his mother, she demanded that he stand up. She then gave him lesson 101 on woman's deportment, he was taught to stand with his back to the seat as close as possible. He was told to put his knees together then ease down gently, keeping his torso straight. Then he was made to smooth his skirt under him before sitting. He was also told proper etiquette dictated that a lady sit with an erect posture with both legs together. Once he had mastered that, his mother magically produce a blizzard array of cosmetics. He already had a nice, even complexion but the foundation smoothed it to perfection. She was going to leave his eyebrows alone but decided to narrow them, just a little. Bill howled like a wounded animal as she plucked at a few stray hairs. "You won't even be able to tell I did it." She assured him. Before he knew what hit him, she had his brows shaped, and his eyes, cheeks, and lips painted. Helen studied her son's face and thought to herself that she might have over done his eyebrows a tad, but rationalized they would grow back in no time. Bill took one look at the mirror and felt like he was Alice in Wonderland. Before him stood the quintessential teenage girl. Not the little league's champion second baseman. He composed himself and said, "Mother, this is all wrong I look like a woman." "Of course, you do, Billie. In fact, you look like sensational prom queen material, just like your sister." "But I'm not a woman." "Could have fooled me. Do men wear lipstick, mascara, bras, with matching panties and pretty dresses?" Bill couldn't muster the same level of enthusiasm as his mother. At that point, Bill realized that he had entered the Twilight Zone. "Mother, please can we just get this over with?" "Of course, let's go downstairs and eat our dinner. Then you can change into something more comfortable." With a death grip on the stairs handrail Bill made his way down to the main floor without incident. As gracefully as possible, he made his way to the kitchen table and sat like he had been instructed and waited patiently for his mother. The doorbell rang and Helen grabbed her purse and paid for the pizza. Bill made sure his back was to the door. She served the pizza. He picked up the first piece and his mother warned him to only take dainty little bits. It seemed to take forever to get through his customary two slices. When he said that he was done, his mother handed him a tube of lipstick and told him to touch up his lips before he went upstairs to change. Bill knew his mother had lost it, stepping to the small hallway mirror he did as he was told. Surprisingly, he did enjoy the feel and smell of the waxy coating on his lips. He went to his room and tried to get undressed. He was embarrassed he had to ask his mother for help to get out of the dress and bra. He asked her what he was to do with the dress and other accessories. Helen told him to put them away in his closet and drawers. She had decided to keep everything he had on and it would be better for them. Then she added, "Besides they are now yours to keep and take care of." @ @ @ @ He was emotionally spent and dove into bed, pulling the covers over his head. The next thing he heard was his alarm going off. As he headed for the bathroom, the looking glass told him he hadn't taken off his makeup off. He put on his bathing cap and jumped into the shower. He scrubbed his face with a lot of soap and a washcloth. He ran his fingers through his hair and started to get dressed for school. He put on his jeans over his girly underwear. He went to his closet and grabbed the first shirt he came too. It wasn't until he tried to button it that he realized they were on the wrong side. He clearly said, "What the fuck is going on?" Running late, he looked for his old backpack. He went to the kitchen table where he remembered throwing it down the night before, he found that it was gone. In its place was a paisley-colored bag. "Mom, what happened to my backpack?" "That old thing? I threw it out. But don't worry I got you a very nice shoulder bag. "Give me a break, it looks like a purse." "Billie how can you be so cruel? I take the time to get you a present. Instead of thanks, I get attacked." "I'm sorry mom, it is quite pretty. Thanks." "I know now get going you're going to be late." @ @ @ @ Bill jogged the mile to school, finding that a shoulder bag proved to be a nuisance compared to running with a backpack. As a result, he arrived just as the last bell sounded. He made a grand appearance and slid into his desk, throwing his bag to his feet. Everyone in the class glared at him. He had no idea why and he paid attention to the teacher. All morning long he kept getting strange looks for the students and even the teachers. As he entered the lunch room, he looked for a welcoming place to sit. Jill with her posse were sitting in the middle of the cavernous room. Jill stood to get Bill's attention and waved to an empty seat next to her. He walked over and she said, "Hi Billie we have saved a seat for you. Please join us." Bill was surprised at the warm welcome. He sat and opened his bag to get his lunch. All the girls at the table were looking at him in a strange way. He finally had to ask. "What are all you staring at is my zipper down or something?" Most of the girls stared down at their food. It was Elaine who spoke up. "It's just that we don't see boys wearing makeup that often." "What are you talking about," retorted Bill. Jill handed him her compact and what he saw made his blood run cold. His lips were a faint rose color his eyelashes were thick and black and, worst of all, his eyes were still lined with black. "I don't understand, I showered this morning," he stammered. Jill leaned in close. "I bet I know what happened. You must have used kiss-proof lipstick, and waterproof eye makeup. Neither of those come off with just soap and water. "Girls, let's help our friend." She rummaged through her purse and pulled out what to Bill looked like a wet wipe. She proceeded to rub it on his lips, and then showed him the pink color. "If you are going to wear makeup you should always carry disposable cosmetic wipes for last minute clean-ups." Jill leaned in close so none of the others could hear. "Billie, tell me what's going on." Bill looked for somewhere they could have a private conversation. He didn't see any place that was convenient. "Meet me at the flag pole after our last class and I will tell you everything." @ @ @ @ After his last class, Bill headed for his locker. Only to be met with half a dozen of the school's biggest jocks. He was pinned with his back to the lockers surround by 1,200 pounds of testosterone enraged muscle bound bigots yelling expletives at him. All he had wanted to do was make his mother happy and now for the first time in his young life Bill feared for his safety. Bill closed his eyes tight and braced for the first blows to fall. He waited and waited and nothing happened. He suddenly smelled a cornucopia of sweet scents. He opened his eyes and found there was a phalanx of girls guarding him from the bullies. Some of them he didn't even know. The girls escorted him out of the building, giving each of the jocks a sneer of their own. The boys would soon realize that they would pay for their vicious attitudes when it came time to look for dates. The girls might not have heard of the Powder Puff Fortress, but they regarded Bill as a friend and they would not allow him to be brutalized. Jill walked home with him, all the way to his front door, during which Bill laid his soul bare and explained everything. Bill was sure that she would see him as being weak for giving in to his mother's wishes. To his surprise, she threw her arms around his head and pulled their faces together. She kissed him with such a passion that Bill felt weak in the knees. She took his hand and, with her lipstick, wrote her phone number on his palm. She held his face in her hands and said, ?Please call me. Anyone who would do what you are doing for their mother is someone I want to get to know better. Don't worry, things will be okay.? She smiled as she walked away and waved to him at the end of driveway. When Helen got home she walked in to be greeted with a delicious aroma of a simmering pot-roast. In the living room stood Billie, wearing one of Millie?s dresses, protected by his frilly apron. He was concentrating on whatever was on the ironing board. Behind him was a long line of her clothes all neatly ironed. Helen was overwhelmed and all she could think of to say was, ?Hi honey I?m home what?s for dinner?? They sat down to dinner and Bill played maid as he served his mother. He finally explained about his day, leaving off the kiss at the front door. Bill was walking on air all weekend. He gladly acted as a fashion model for his mother. His only objection was when Helen produced something from her hope chest and asked if he would wear it for her with the promise it would give him a classic hourglass figure. It was a 1950?s vintage corset with a built-in bullet bra. He finally put his foot down on that one even if it was a high heeled foot. Things were going well until Sunday evening when Helen had Billie try walking in a pair of his sister?s 5 inch stilettos. He tried, but the results were comical, he bounced around the room like a bumper car. Even Helen agreed they were a bridge too far and he went back to the 3 inch sandals determined to buy her son a pair of fashionable heels at the first opportunity. Around dinnertime, the phone rang. It was Bill's high school principal saying that he wanted to see both Helen and Bill in his office first thing Monday morning. The two of them had their own ideas about why Mr. Anderson wanted to see them the next day. Helen was sure that it was to assure her that the incident with the boys would not be allowed to happen again. She had intended to call the school and give the principal a piece of her mind. She would be able to do that in person instead. Bill thought that the principal would be scolding them because he had come to school wearing makeup. The rules were very clear that only light makeup was allowed and he had looked like a girl out on a date. Everyone had given him angry looks all morning and at least one teacher had to have complained about him. His mother did not notice how quiet he was through dinner and clean up. He made an excuse that he was really tired and he went up to bed. He was suddenly sorry that he had gone along with his mother's crazy ideas of dressing him up. If he had not agreed, he would not be in trouble now and she would not have to go to school to have a talk with the principal. @ @ @ @ Bill was out of bed as soon as his alarm sounded. He made quite certain that his face was completely devoid of makeup before he jumped into the shower. He knew that his mother would be disappointed, but he washed the curls out of his hair so that he was left with just long hair that he could put into his preferred low ponytail. He thought that she would accept the explanation that the principal would want to see him as a boy would work. He was frustrated to find that none of his regular flannel shirts were in his closet. Instead, there were the light-weight shirts in various pastel colors that apparently, his mother had bought for him. He would have been happy with a sweatshirt, but he couldn?t find those either. He settled for a pale blue shirt that felt like it was made from silk. His undershirts had been replaced with lacy trimmed white tank top things, which to him looked like a cutoff negligee. He wanted to fight it but thought no one would see what he had on. At least he could wear his jeans and trainers. He was eating his normal breakfast of toast and skim milk when Helen came out to the kitchen. She smiled at him when she saw that he had started the coffee maker for her and she only needed to pour a cup to get her morning caffeine. Her smile faded a bit when she saw Bill's hair, but she nodded in appreciation of his choice of blouse. While he had not done his hair this morning, he had not made an issue of the fact that he couldn?t find his old shirts. She decided to say nothing about his hair right now as she was in a hurry to talk to Mr. Anderson. "That is a nice color on you," she commented, watching carefully for his reaction. "Do you like it?" Bill gave her a stink face and felt caught between two bad choices. If he said no, he was sure that he would hurt her feelings. If he said yes, she would push more things like this at him. He wished he knew what he could say to make her stop without making her cry. If this went on much longer, she would have him wearing dresses to school. "I do like the color, blue has always been my favorite, but it's not quite as warm as my other shirts," he said. "At least it is not cold outside yet." Helen waved dismissively. "Oh, you can wear a pretty sweater when it starts to get colder." "Why is your hair like that?" Helen asked. "Don't you like the curls?" Again, Bill tried to think fast. "I thought that it might be good to go to school like this today. Especially after last Friday." Helen evidently found his reasoning sound because she nodded in agreement. They quickly finished their breakfast and headed off to school in her car. They arrived before most of the buses that transported students from the outlying neighborhoods. What kids were in the halls paid them no attention as the two of them went to the administration office. When Helen told the secretary who she was, they were shown to a small conference room and told that Mr. Anderson would be there in a few minutes. There was coffee and fruit juice on the table, so Bill helped himself to an orange juice. After about ten minutes, Mr. Anderson came into the room followed by three women with stern expressions on their faces. The principal was a thin and scholarly looking man with black framed glasses and a ramrod- straight posture. Combined with the looks on the faces of the women, it felt like they were facing some sort of court with Mr. Anderson as the judge. This was not what either Bill or Helen had expected as they had anticipated speaking with only the principal. A quick round of introductions ensued. It appeared that two of the ladies were from the school district's child psychology department, the other was from Child Protective services. All of them moved into Mr. Anderson?s office, leaving Bill alone. He took a seat near the door where he could hear what was being said behind the closed doors. At first, Bill couldn?t make out what was being said, but as tempers flared, the volume and intensities sent the words through the door. It was readily apparent that Bill?s mother was being accused of forcing him to dress as a girl. Bill had chills down his spine when they threatened his mother with having Bill removed from her care. Mr. Anderson asked for calm. At that point, two of the ladies exited the office and suggested that Bill accompany them. Bill was led away while Helen continued to talk with Mr. Anderson and the other lady. Once they were in the vice principal's office they confronted Bill. ?Relax young man, you are not the one in trouble. By the way that is a lovely blouse you are wearing. Who made you wear it?? Bill stared at her in wide-eyed amazement, ?What makes you think it?s a blouse?? ?Bill, give us some credit. I am sure you noticed it buttons on the left side. Where a man?s shirt buttons are on the other si Bill slouched in his chair and waited for the other shoe to drop. ?We have reports you have been wearing makeup to school. That, in itself, is a matter of concern, but what is really upsetting is that we have heard it was your mother who is making you do those kinds of things.? ?Who told you that?? ?Mr. Anderson?s daughter had a conversation with one of your classmates who said your feminine hairstyle and makeup were all because of your mother?s insistence.? Bill could see where this was going and didn?t like it one bit. He had always been taught to never lie but in this case, he felt that it was a necessity. ?That's a lie, I like my hair. The makeup was a mistake. I was experimenting with my mother?s stuff and didn?t get it washed off; my mother had nothing to do with it.? One of the ladies asked skeptically, ?Why would you want to put on makeup?? Billie?s stomach was tightening up and he had to think fast. ?I had a sister who was killed in a car accident. Everyone has always said we look a lot alike. I couldn?t see it so I thought if I used makeup it would be a better test.? The two women left Bill alone. Fifteen minutes later, Bill got a call to come into Mr. Anderson?s office. He walked in and found the room crowded, Mr. Anderson was in there, along with his very concerned mother, the three ladies from district and standing behind them was Jill. Mr. Anderson motioned to the hard-back chair right in front of his desk. Realizing he was hung on his own petard. He sat down as demurely as he could. Trying to stay in character he crossed his ankles and placed his hands in his lap. Mr. Anderson stood up and leaned forward with his hands on his desk. ?Billie, we seem to have a problem here. Someone is not telling the truth. I intend to get to the bottom of this.? "Jill here tells us you told her your mother was, if not making you, at least encouraging you to dress like a girl.? "Did you tell her that?? Bill licked his dry lips and told the truth, ?Yes sir, I said all those things.? ?Now you are saying it was all your idea. Do you see why we are confused?? Bill turned his gaze to Jill. ?I can explain, I really, really like Jill and told her those things so she wouldn?t think me a sissy.? The three ladies and Mr. Anderson went into a huddle. When they broke, one of the ladies from the district's child psychology department took over the discussion. ?Bill, we are not sure you are telling us the whole truth. But we are in agreement that you need some one-on-one counseling. We will work up a schedule for after school sessions.? "The representative from Child Perfective Services insists that your mother get help too. From what we have heard, if nothing else, she needs help in handling her daughter?s death.? Mr. Anderson said, ?Now you and Jill get going so you won?t be late for class. Bill held the door for Jill and was dreading what was coming next. Once in the hall, Jill reached over and grabbed Bill by the bicep, digging her nails into his arm. With a grimace on her face she said, ?If we are going to be friends we can never lie to each other. Now were you telling the truth in there?? Bill replied with a tone of exasperation, ?No, not all of it. They were talking about charging my mother and placing me in a foster home. I couldn?t let that happen. What I told you on our walk is the God?s honest truth.? Jill wiped the scowl off her face and adopted a softer tone. ?Are you telling me you would rather the entire town think you are a sissy then get your mother in trouble?? ?Yes, that sums it up.? ?The other thing you said in there was that the truth?? ?The other thing?? ?Yes dummy, about liking me?? Bill blushed crimson. ?Yes, that was the truth.? Jill took Bill by the hand and the walked toward their first class. At the door, she asked him, ?How about we see a movie on Friday?? ?Sure, what time to do want me to pick you up?? ?I don?t want to go out. Bring a pizza and I will rent a movie and we can hang out at my house. My parents are going out of town and will be gone until Sunday night, so we?ll have the place to ourselves.? Jill disappeared into her classroom leaving a lovesick Billie starring after her. @ @ @ @ It was fortunate that Jill only lived a couple of blocks away from his house. After a quick stop for a takeout pizza, Bill stood nervously at Jill?s front door. She opened the door before the chimes had died down. ?Come in Bill. I?ve been waiting for you.? She took the pizza and laid the box on the dining room table. She motioned for Bill to sit while she went to retrieve a soda for each of them. She placed them on the table and took a seat across from Bill. They sat and ate while enjoying a delightful conversation. They felt totally at ease, there was none of the normal teenage awkwardness or sexual tension. After they were done, Bill took the initiative and cleaned up. Bill asked, ?What movie have you picked for us?? ?I didn?t get one. I thought I would rather just hang out and get to know you better.? A smiling Bill agreed instantly. Jill took Bill by the hand and led him to her bedroom. The room was exactly what Bill expected. It was all pink and lace with a menagerie of stuffed animals on the canopy bed. She went to the bed and cleared it by sweeping everything on to the floor. She sat and patted the seat next to her as an invitation for her guest to join her. Bill maneuvered through the minefield of stuffed animals and sat next to her. The two just talked and talked and came to enjoy each other?s company. They both became parched and Jill went downstairs to get them more sodas. She returned carrying two full glasses of Coke with ice. As she maneuvered toward the bed, she tripped and spilled both glasses on Bill. Soaking his shirt and pants. Bill jumped up in shock. Jill was all apologetic and ran to her bathroom to get a towel. In her absence, Bill tried to keep from dripping onto the floor. Jill took the towel and tried to soak up the mess she made. Giving up in exasperation she ordered Bill to take off his pale-yellow silk shirt and pants saying she would wash them. Bill resisted mightily, until Jill just took matters in her own hands. Being about the same size and a couple of years older. She was his equal in strength she merely reached over and pulled his shirt over his head. Jill gasped in surprise when she discovered rather than a boy?s undershirt Bill was wearing a lacy camisole. Jill with a mischievous smile said, ?I love your taste in lingerie. What else do you have on?? ?Just my panties,? Jill?s eyes bugged out, ?Oh, I have to see. Please show me.? Bill stripped