Like Smoke In The Wind free porn video

Like Smoke in the Wind By Cheryl Lynn Trying something a bit different with this story delving more into the heroine's mental state. All standard disclaimers apply and may be downloaded for personal use only. Any other use strictly forbidden unless author's approval obtained. Comments and suggestions for the plot are welcome at [email protected]. "Like Smoke in the Wind" by A.A. Davis. I sat back from my computer and contemplated for a moment. "Yes, an apt title for my biography. It perfectly describes what happened to all my hopes and aspirations. All blown away in the wind like smoke. Don't know how I feel about getting some publisher to buy it but the money would come in handy. In any case, my psychologist said it would be cathartic and help me cope with all that's happened. Might as well get to it before I decide not to do this," I thought then began typing. Chapter 1 Ashley Adrian Davis. Now that's normally considered a girl's name but also could be a boy. Unfortunately, that's me. It's bad enough having one girlish name but two? According to my mother I was named after two of my great grandfathers. They were both very successful businessmen and my parents hoped I would follow in their path. Plus I'm small for my age and called "cute" by my mother and her friends. As you can imagine I was the brunt of a lot of teasing in elementary school. I was teased not only because of my name but mom insisted I not cut my shoulder length hair. By the time I entered high school, I managed to go by my initials, A.A. I was still small and puberty slow to make its presents known. My hair remained long but I kept it in a low ponytail. Yes, I was still picked on by the school bullies. Physical Education my most hated subject in high school. I could always count on being picked last for any team sports and the primary target in dodge ball. Hitting the showers after class was embarrassing. Even as a freshman most of the guys had some hair on their chests, a few even shaved. Me, some fuzz under my arms and between my legs but nothing much else. I was scrawny, and my little man, well let's leave it at that. No wonder they made fun of me. Being older I didn't like being called "cute" or "darling" either. My Aunt Betsy, the biggest instigator in referring to me in that manner. What was more embarrassing was her telling my mother I should have been born a girl. "With those big doe like eyes and petite frame, Ashley should have been a girl. Mother Nature made a mistake adding those bits and pieces," I heard her say more than once. Damn it, I'm not some little kid anymore. I'm sixteen going on seventeen and I don't want to be "cute," "darling" much less a girl. Her insistence in saying I should have been a girl certainly didn't help my ego either. Don't get me wrong. Despite my name I was pretty happy. I didn't have a lot of friends but the ones I had were good ones. We'd hang, play video games, go to the mall to watch the girls. You know typical boy things. My grades were good and I did want to go to college. I was even entertaining the thought of joining the army when I graduated. Think I would love to drive one of those Abrams tanks. Even thought about driving one of those over my Aunt Betsy's Buick. I wish. Chapter 2 So much for the good news. My freshman year was coming to a close when my dad passed from a massive heart attack. The school advanced me to be a Sophomore though I hadn't completed all my finals. We weren't that close as he traveled a lot but I dearly missed him. With his passing mom kinda went into a funk. She began having wild mood swings. One moment she was raging the next crying. Weird stuff like that, go figure. Aunt Betsey came to support my mom in her grief. That was when my life began its descent into hell. Before I get into that I guess I should tell you something about my Aunt Betsey. She's a full-figured woman, about mid-forties and not my biological relative. Just a long-time friend of mom's who grew up together. She would come over at least once a week. Sometimes spending the weekend when dad was away. Aunt Betsy would give me really stupid gifts on my birthday or Christmas. Like stuffed animals or as I got older a pink diary with a poodle decoration of all things. She's married to my Uncle Jake and lives about seventy-five miles away. I've only met Jake a few times but he's a real jerk. One of those ex-jocks who always brags about how great he would have been if he hadn't blown out a knee. I don't think he even made it to collage as he works as a mechanic in some used car lot. One other thing, she's a neat freak. Aunt Betsy stayed until a week after the funeral. During that time she had me doing all the household chores. I'm not talking about taking out the trash, cutting the lawn stuff but real housework. Like I said she's a neat freak and from the get go, had me in a ruffled white pinafore apron and a silly mop cap. For the first week she was constantly on my ass supervising every chore until she was satisfied. She didn't think twice about grabbing my earlobe and pinching it between thumb and finger nail to get my attention. I couldn't wait for her to get her fat ass out of our house. Don't get me wrong. I realized my mom wasn't able to do those things and Aunt Betsy had to tend to her. Still having to wear that stupid apron and mop cap was a real ball buster. I didn't mind mopping and vacuuming but cleaning bathrooms and learning to iron were a real pain. I couldn't wait for her to leave. I was more than ready to get out of the house and meet up with my friends. It was summer after all. Those hopes were soon dashed. Mom and Aunt Betsy had me join them in the living room. "Ashley darling," Aunt Betsy began, "we've decided that your mom needs to get away. Too many memories for her to handle right now. So, I've volunteered to take you home with me until she feels better. Now doesn't that sound delightful. We'll have a great time together cutie while she gets some much-needed relief." I looked at my mom in shock. She had that glazed look from whatever drugs she was on. I didn't know if she would listen but I had to protest. "What! No way! I've got friends here and I don't want to go. I'm old enough to take care of myself. Mom, please, don't make me do this," I stated loudly. Well maybe, shouted. For a big woman Aunt Betsy can move awfully fast. Before I could react, her hand lashed out making me stagger. "Listen here Ashley, that's no way to talk to your mother! Now apologize before I turn you over my knee," she demanded. With the side of my face stinging like the blazes, I mumbled that I was sorry. "Damn, she would do that too," I thought and my fate was sealed. The next morning two women showed up wearing pink scrubs and escorted my mom out of the house. "Where is she going? Who are those women?" I asked. "Nothing to worry about darling. They are taking her to a really nice place where she can get the care she needs. It's sort of like a spa. Your father's passing has devastated her emotionally. Now go pack a bag and we'll be leaving shortly," Aunt Betsy replied. "Nut house," I thought but went to pack. Again, don't get me wrong. I loved my mom and it hurt to see her so incapacitated. I packed two suitcases and one duffle bag with what I considered necessities like my X-box. Aunt Betsy said I have to stay with her for the duration. What a bummer but I lost my argument about not going. At least I made sure I had my favorite games and CD's. When she came to check on me, despite my protests emptied everything out and repacked some clothing into one bag. Shit! What was I going to do for the summer? At least she let me bring my laptop. I have some pretty good porn sites so I can have some fun. Nothing like a good jerk to ease the tension. The trip to her house took about an hour and Aunt Betsy did most of the talking. I just sat bemoaning over my fate and hearing what she was telling me. It didn't sound good, not good at all. "Ashley darling we're going to have a delightful time together. I have so much to teach you. I don't have many rules but you will behave and do as I say. I expect you to be willing and able to help me around the house. You know how much I hate filth and sloppiness. So as long as you cooperate, I won't have to punish you. I don't like having to do that and it hurts me more than you but yadda, yadda," she droned on and on. This was going to be the worst summer in my life. Chapter 3 Aunt Betsy's house was out in the country off Rural Route 1225. It was a ranch style built in I guess the early 70's in of all things a pink brick. Three-bedroom, two baths with three old cars parked off to the side. A refrigerator sat just inside the car port. The house was surrounded by pine trees and most of what we passed on the way were empty fields with a few cows and horses. The nearest neighbor was at least a mile away. "Gawd, could this get any worse," I thought at the time. That thought was a bit premature. It got much worse as soon as she showed me to my room. The walls were covered in a pastel floral- patterned wallpaper and the floor in a beige pile carpet. The furniture, a delicate white enamel with gold pen stripping. The twin bed had a bright pink satin quilted comforter, sheets and pillow cases were white with small floral decoration. The room had a distinct smell of flowers coming from those scented plug-ins. It might be her guest room but definitely one for girls. The bathroom was right across the hall and it too had a distinct feminine look. White and pink ceramic tile seemed to be everywhere and those plug-ins were in several sockets. Worse, there was no shower to speak of. Just one of those metallic hose things you hooked up to the tub's faucet. What she did next was a big surprise. Aunt Betsy walked over to the linen closet and donned a white plastic bib apron. Then she removed several bottles and placed them on the pinkish white Formica counter top. "Ashley darling, you will be taking a bath from now on so I'm going to show you how it's properly performed. When done correctly, it can be very soothing and relaxing. Go ahead and strip while I get the water ready," she said to my astonishment. "Strip! Naked?" I gasped mortified at the idea. "Of course cutie. How else do you expect to take a bath?" she replied. "I can't do that with you in here. Tha....that's indecent," I said almost in tears at the very idea. "Ashley, I don't have all day and this is something you need to know. Now strip! You don't have anything I haven't seen before. I've even changed your diapers," she barked. "Bull shit!" I thought as I turned, planning to run as fast and far as I could. Damn, that woman is fast. She had me by the back of my shirt collar before I had taken two steps. She jerked hard, I fell back into her and she wrapped a beefy arm around my waist. Before I knew it, I was sprawling across her lap and my poor bum was being pounded with a wooden scrub brush. It hurt like the dickens and my tears were flowing. I had only been spanked once before when my dad caught me in a lie but nothing like this. "Ashley, I told you I don't like doing this but you have to learn to do what I say when I say it. Now tell me you're sorry and take off those clothes," she said dumping me to the floor. She let me stay there sniveling on the cold tile for a few minutes. Aunt Betsy gave me a nudge with her foot. "Get up, get those clothes off," she demanded. I was embarrassed having to shower with the guys after PE but this was mortifying. Having a woman giving your naked body a good hard look made me flush red from head to toe. "Too hairy for a delicate cutie like you. Stand with your legs spread, arms up," she ordered. I couldn't do that! I'd be fully exposed. When I clasped my hands to cover my groin instead, she slapped my face. Not hard but hard enough to do as she said. As I stood trembling, she began coating my body in a pinkish goo that soon began to stink and burn. Standing, hopping from one foot to the other, Aunt Betsy filled the tub. Not with just water but added what she called bath beads that gave off a strong floral scent. When there was a nice froth of bubbles covering the surface, she told me to get in. I gladly did so for no other reason than to get this burning goo off my body. I watched fearfully as she picked up the scrub brush, foamed it up with a pink soap and began scrubbing me like a baby. I couldn't stop the tears and she ran that brush all over me. When she had finished, hooked up the hose and began washing my shoulder length hair. Aunt Betsy was a bit gentler when she did this but my tears still fell. After shampooing and conditioning it twice had me stand and rinsed me off. Through my tears I saw that I had no hair on my body. Even my groin was bare. "Ashley, you look adorable without all that ugly body hair. I expect you to stay this way from now on. Don't you agree?" she said as she patted me dry with a fluffy towel. "I asked you a question darling. Be polite and answer me," she said when I didn't respond. What could I do. I nodded my head and whispered, "Yes, Aunt Betsy." "I'm happy to hear that. Now one final thing before we are finished," she said smiling. She took a large powder puff from a jar and began dusting me in a floral talc. It made me sneeze. "This is all I need. I'm going to smell like a friggin florist shop," I thought. With my body powdered, she wrapped the large towel around my chest and a smaller one, turban style on my head. Taking my hand led me to her bedroom and had me sit on her vanity bench. There she combed out my damp hair, trimmed what she called split ends off. Not stopping there, she parted it across my forehead and trimmed straight across. Crap! She gave me bangs. At least she stopped there and using a blow dryer finished up. "Yo....you gav...gave me a...a girls haircut. Why are you doing this to me?" I stammered seeing the results. "Don't be silly Ashley. That's a Prince Valent style of haircut. He was a knight of the Round Table you know. I use to admire it when I read the Sunday comics years ago. Doing to you? Oh no darling, I'm not really doing anything. Nature pretty much did everything but for some minor oversights. You're just too cute to go around smelling like a wet puppy. That's all. Now go to your room and get dressed then meet me in the kitchen. Your Uncle Jake is do home soon," she replied smiling broadly. Chapter 4 "I can't believe I have to stay in this room. It's a friggin girls' room," I thought as I morosely entered. "Hell! I even smell like one after what she made me do." I took as much time getting dressed as I thought I could get away with. Boxers, "Grateful Dead" tee, jeans socks and shoes. Maybe five minutes to put on but I stretched it out to twenty before she yelled for me to get my ass in the kitchen. "Darling that tee has to go. It's inappropriate. Take it off while I find one more becoming," she said when I got there. "What the?" I thought but seeing the look in her eyes decided to comply. "I don't want to wear this," I thought when she handed me a pink tee with a "V" neck. "Put it on darling. Oh, that's so much nicer. Let me get you an apron and then we can start dinner," she said. "Apron, again?" I thought. I had been wearing one plus a stupid mop cap for the past several weeks but still hated it. My ego wasn't that great to begin with and wearing a frilly, girly apron and cap didn't help. I hoped Uncle Jake wouldn't see me in it. The one she tied around my waist was a floral printed bib apron with ruffled hemming. She didn't give me a mop cap but something much worse. A bright pink hairnet. I felt like a total fool but better than getting my earlobe pinched or hairbrush. I was busy setting the table when Uncle Jake came in. He gave me a hard look, went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. "What a pansy," he said heading into the den. "Don't let it bother you darling. Jake just doesn't have an appreciation for boys like you. Unless you're an athlete or all macho doesn't relate. Now, the roast is almost done. Put butter on the mashed potatoes and get everything out on the table. Jake will be in a better mood once he has his dinner," she said. Dinner was anything but joyful. It was downright embarrassing. Uncle Jake was making all sorts of snide comments about me. Guess I couldn't really blame him as I was still wearing that stupid apron and hairnet. In fact, I was thinking pretty much the same thing, pansy, flake and such. The meal itself wasn't helping either. Uncle Jake carved the roast, something I always liked especially the rare part. When he started to carve me a slice Aunt Betsy chimed in. "Jake, Ashley will have a small slice. Just give he...him the butt end. Ashley only a small scoop of the potatoes but you can have all the veggies you want," she stated. I wanted to say something but the look she gave me stopped that idea. "The butt end, that's always well done and I hate that. Small scoop, hell, I'm starving and I hate vegetables," I thought but dare not argue. "Eats like a priss as well," Uncle Jake commented putting a thin slice on my plate. "Jake! That's enough with your teasing. Ashley can't help it. Nature just didn't put him in your mold. Now be nice or you can forget getting any pleasure later," she stated. I was surprised hearing that; yet, at the same time embarrassed. Uncle Jake was a man's man and here I was wearing a frilly apron and hairnet. Of course I looked prissy and unmanly. It wasn't by choice but Aunt Betsy's. When I tried to resist, I got punished. If I had Uncle Jake's muscles I could have fought but like she said, nature left me small and delicate. I guess it was at this point where I first blamed my dad for dying. If he hadn't I wouldn't be in this mess. Thankfully dinner was over and Uncle Jake grabbed another beer and went into the den. I cleared the dishes off the table and helped clean up the kitchen. I wasn't happy and tears threatened to overflow. Aunt Betsy gave me a look, then wrapped me up in her arms pulling my face into her ample breasts. "Don't let your Uncle Jake bother you none darling. It's just his way but he'll come along once he sees how cute and helpful you really are," she said patting my back. Normally having my face between two pillows of soft flesh has popped up in my fantasies but not now. Hearing what she said didn't help either as my tears began to flow. I didn't want to be thought of as cute nor being helpful as she meant it. Why oh why did dad have to die and leave me like this? After the kitchen was cleaned to the satisfaction of my aunt, she removed that hated apron but left the hairnet. When I started to pull it off she stopped me. Slapping my hand away. "Leave it. You'll need it to sleep in otherwise your hair will be a disaster in the morning. Come along, it's been a long tiring, stressful day for you. I'll help you get ready for bed," she told me. "Ready for bed? It's only seven thirty," I said. It was early and I was tired but no way I could fall asleep this soon. "Yes, but I have to teach you what you need to know. There's more to going to bed than popping into pajamas and flopping down under the covers. Besides, you live in the country now and it's early to bed and early to rise," she said taking my hand. "I don't wear pajamas. I just sleep in my boxers and tee," I replied. "Not in this house! You will wear appropriate night wear while you stay here. We have a lot yet to do before you can hit the sheets," she stated. "Crap!" I thought; then, said, "I don't have any pajamas and what else do I have to do?" "I'll find something. You need to learn how to take care of your skin to prevent ugly pimples and brush your hair for starters. If you hadn't taken a bath so late today, you'd be doing that too," she replied giving my hand a tug. It was almost nine by the time I hit the sheets totally exhausted. She made me brush my hair one hundred strokes with a bristle brush. With that done and my arms aching, she put the hairnet back on. Then I spent an hour learning how to do a nightly facial. First a cleansing, followed by moisturizer then a night time mask. I had to grease my elbows, legs and feet with this floral scented lotion before she gave me pajamas. Pajamas hell, it was a damn lime green nylon ankle length nightie with a ruffled hem and lace frilled bodice. Instead of my boxers, a pair of matching full cut nylon panties with white ruffled lace on the bottom. Oh yeah, I screamed no way but after ten smacks to by bottom with the hairbrush relented. Before I fell into a troubled sleep my prayer was for this not to get any worse. Chapter 5 So much for prayers. I was rudely awakened before the sun came up by someone tugging on my shoulder and saying get up. It was Aunt Betsy and she didn't look all that happy. "Get up you lazy girl," is what I thought her say. Had to be my sleep induced haze. I have never gotten up before the sun and never truly awake until I've had at least one cup of coffee. A slap on the side of my head made some of the Sandman's dust leave my brain. "Wha....what time is it?" I mumbled. "Past five and you slept through the alarm. Get your lazy ass up and into the bathroom. We have a lot to do today," she said pulling my arm. I stumbled along still somewhat dazed behind her into the bath. There she told me to do my business while she prepared the tub. I stood frozen just realizing what I had on and blushed. "I said do your business!" she spat going to the linen closet. Trying to get my jumbled thoughts together, I lifted the hem of the nightie and pulled down the panties blushing harder. I had to pee but strained to get it to flow. I shouldn't be doing this with her in the room. Despite yesterday, it was still embarrassing. I hadn't even started when she smacked me on the side of the head. "Damn it! Sit while you pee," she snapped. Apparently she woke in a foul mood like I normally do. Needless to say, I turned and sat. The only compensation was that the nightie covered up my privates. When I finished and started to get up, she asked me if I pooed. I normally didn't have to do that until after breakfast but the question made me blush. Just imagining doing that with her watching sent a shiver up my spine. "I...I usually do....do it after breakfast," I stuttered. "You won't have time after that. Get it done," she stated pouring bath beads and oil into the rising water. "Again with the flowers," I thought as the smell hit my nose. I tried to do it but grunting and pushing didn't do any good. When I said I couldn't, Aunt Betsy scowled. "Guess you need help then," she said digging back into the linen closet. She came out of the closet holding a pink bag with a white ridged nozzle attached. "This is my old douche kit but it will do. Consider it yours now," she smirked sticking the nozzle into the bath water. I won't go into the gory details of what happened next but mortifying enough to make me burst into tears. Back in the bed room she showed me how to remove the white clay night mask, cleanse and moisturize. Then I had to brush my hair one hundred times. Damn this was getting old. With me smelling like a bouquet I got dressed. I looked and smelled more like a girl than I ever wanted. Wearing jeans, a yellow cap sleeved girlish tee that she gave me, my socks and shoes didn't help that image. The damn tee didn't even cover up my belly button. Putting on that apron and hairnet only added to my humiliation. When Uncle Jake came in to have breakfast guffawed loudly when he saw me. Aunt Betsy immediately told him to be nice or else. Not positive what she meant by the "Or else" but hoped she meant using that hairbrush on him. Breakfast, if you could call what I got nourishment, half a grapefruit, dry toast, black coffee and glass of OJ. I wanted to complain but Aunt Betsy gave me that look. They had a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns and toast with jam. Once the kitchen was cleaned and everything put away, she told me we were going to town for some much-needed shopping. Hearing that I got my hopes up. It would be my chance to run the hell away from here. All I needed was to hitch a ride back home and hope one of my friends could put me up for a while. If I got caught would plead child abuse to the authorities. I wasn't sure that would hold up but figured it was worth a try. Aunt Betsy is either a mind reader or guessed what I had planned from the look on my face. In any case, my hopes were quickly dashed. She took me back to her bedroom, had me sit at her vanity and soon had me in tears. "Ashley your nails look horrible. You must stop biting them. Before I take you anywhere I'm going to have to neaten them up," she said producing an emery board. It didn't take her long to round them off and the cuticles pushed back. That didn't bother me but when she pulled out a yellow gel polish, I had to draw back. That resulted in a tongue lashing about doing as I was told and some pain as a finger was bent back. "I've warned you before about not doing what I demand! Thought I was going to put that nail polish on you, did you? Well, I was just getting that out of the way for some clear polish but now I'll just use this. Serve you right for not behaving like the darling I know you are," she told me. She didn't stop with polishing my nails in that bright yellow polish. Oh no, she had to add some gooey, sticky lip gloss as well. For my chapped lips she said. Shit! I don't have chapped lips. Like how could I run away looking like this? I looked more like a flat chested girl than a boy. As we got in the car I could only hope grocery shopping would be quick and I could keep my hands in my pockets. Boy was I in for a surprise. Whenever I went shopping with my mom it was always to the grocery. So that was my expectation. Only Aunt Betsey pulled into a mall. "You don't have enough clothing to last the summer darling. We'll take care of that and a few other things as well. Now, behave and put a smile on your face. Otherwise I will not hesitate to put you over my knee and give you a sound thrashing, understood," she said somewhat harshly. Then kindlier added, "This is a small conservative town. Spanking is tolerated here to make kids behave. Not like that big city where you grew up. With that nail polish and cute face, you look like a young girl. I highly recommend, unless you want to wind up in our jail, you act like one. People here don't take kindly to strangers, so don't draw undo attention, understand. What I'm suggesting is for your own good. I don't want to see you hurt darling." "Don't want me to be hurt? What do you call your punishments? Now she wants me to act girly. What do I know about acting girly?" I glumly thought any hope of running forgotten. Spring Dale Shopping Mall wasn't like the big malls I was used to seeing back home. It was more like a strip mall but had two anchor stores, J.C. Penny and Sears. Getting out of the car I quickly thrust my hands into my pockets. The mall was just opening and not that many people around but my yellow nails would pop out like traffic lights. As I started my shuffling downcast walk, Aunt Betsy slapped the back of my head, hard. "Ashley! Get those hands out of your pockets, straighten up and smile. Pick up your feet and take small steps from your hips. You're already embarrassing me. You don't want to embarrass me do you?" she harshly said. "Eeerrr, n..no Aunt Betsy," I whispered seeing the threating look in her eyes. I could picture her in my mind bending me over and spanking me right here in the parking lot. Now that would draw a lot more attention than my yellow nails, so I tried my best. I don't know what was harder. Taking small steps or keeping a phony smile on my face. Don't know why she parked so far from the entrance but she constantly barked orders as we went. "Keep those elbows close to your body and stop swinging those arms. Back straight, head up and smile. Walk from the hips, one foot in front of the other," she instructed as we made our way. Emphasizing each instruction with a slap to the back of my head. This was not only embarrassing but walking this way so unnatural. It took a lot of concentration to walk but I did my best. The last thing I wanted now was to be noticed. Like most malls there were several kiosks in the main hall. You know the type selling sunglasses, jewelry and pierced earrings. I was surprised when she grasped my arm and pulled me toward the one selling pierced earrings. "For someone as cute as you, I can't believe you haven't pierced your ears yet. We'll get that done since we're here. This is my treat, so don't give me any static or grief. Understand!" "But Aunt Betsy, I...I don't want that. Please, I...errr...I appreciate the offer but no, don't make me do this," I replied hoping she would relent. "Those earlobes are just begging to be adorned with some pretty earrings darling. It doesn't hurt and we are going to do this, understand!" she hissed. There she goes with that "understand" demand again. It wasn't like she was asking. It meant that I had better agree or else. From the way she was squeezing my upper arm and the threat in her voice, I knew I had no choice. "Ye....yes Aunty Betsy. I....I understand," I answered. "That's a much better attitude darling. You know as long as we're here, why don't you ask the sales girl if she could also pierce your cute belly button," she responded. A belly ring? No boy in his right mind would ever get a navel piercing. It was unheard of but I realized it was a punishment for not going along with her. The pain from her grip on my upper arm also reminded me that refusal would bring on more painful punishment. The Piercing Palace kiosk. I will never forget that place. It was the place where I lost most of my masculinity. We left there with both my lobes pierced twice and a large pink pearl dangling inside my innie belly button. Seeing the shit eating grin on Aunt Betsy's face didn't improve my self-image. No guy would ever do this. I was consoled by the fact I could remove all this girlish stuff and the holes would heal. "It's only temporary. It's only temporary," I kept thinking as we entered Sears. I kept thinking that until I recognized where we were going. She had hold of my hand and leading me into the lingerie department. I dug in my heels. No way I was going into that forbidden area. She must have seen the fright in my eyes and moved up beside me. "Ashley darling, stop being a hinderance and cooperate with me. Your boxers are all worn and unsightly. The same for your undershirts and you need your own bed clothing. Looking like you do now, we can't possibly shop in the men's department. What do you think they are going to say or do seeing you in nail polish with that precious belly ring? Come along, smile or do I have to get out my hairbrush right here," she bluntly said then whispered as she jerked my hand, "Smile! Look like you're having fun and no one will question that you belong." "Smile, look like I'm having fun? How the hell am I supposed to do that walking into no man's land. Could I get arrested? She did have a point about going into the men's department though. Like I have a choice now," I thought stepping into this woman's sanctuary. The first stop was at the panty/bra counter. I recognized some of the items on display, like thongs and strapless bras. I'm not totally na?ve. I have my porn sites. I just wasn't aware of all the different styles and color variations. My deer in the headlights look disappeared when Aunt Betsy thrust two packages of day of the week nylon panties into my hands. "These should be your size, a four," she said tearing open one package and removing a black pair with Saturday in pink script on it. "Take these into the changing room, put them on so I can check the fit." "Wha....what? Here, now?" I gasped. "Of course darling. I'll show you the way. I'll make sure no one bothers you," she answered with that same grin I came to hate. "Don't they have some plain white cotton ones?" I asked daring to hope. "Yes, but it would look strange for a girl your age not to be buying pretty nylon ones," she replied tugging my hand. "But I'm not," I started to say. "No, but we have to keep up appearances. You certainly don't want anyone to start screaming, do you?" she interrupted. Reluctantly I followed her to the changing rooms and slipped into one. There I looked at what I held in my hand. They were as light as a feather, sleek to the feel, shimmering black with eyelet lace on waist and leg openings. Then there was that feminine pink script "Saturday" and pert little pink bow on the waist band. Nothing at all like my heavier bulky boxers. I certainly wasn't used to the snug fit or the silky feel when I put them on. I know I was blushing when I told Aunt Betsy I had them on. She stuck her head in, chuckled then entered the cubical. "They look precious on you Ashley. There's just a small problem though. Here let me take care of it," she said. To my chagrin and mortification, she stuck her hand into my underwear. Then pushed my testicles up into my body and my penis down. Stepping back she was all smiles. I had tears brimming from the pain when she did that. Not all of it was physical but mentally. There was only a slight ridge showing through the panties. More of my masculinity fled as I viewed my reflection. "Now that looks so much better darling. Stay here while I continue shopping. You're going to have to try on some other items for the proper fit. I'll only be gone for a few moments," she stated leaving me alone wearing just my tee and underwear. No way I was going to call them panties. Aunt Betsy returned after what seemed like hours. What I saw in her hands made my eyes bug out. She was carrying multiple hangers of bras and camisoles. "She can't be serious!" my mind shouted. "Nooo, no, please don't make me wear that," I gasped in fright. "Look Ashley darling, people are beginning to notice. Girls your age have breasts you know. That flat chest is going to give you away as a boy if we don't do something. I got these to help you, not to be mean. Besides these are so pretty. Take off that tee and let's see which is a better fit," she said stepping behind me. If I had been wearing my jeans I might have bolted but shaking, stood silent as she slid the straps up my arms. The bra was a bright white satin with light pink floral lace overlay on the cups. I felt her connect the three hook and eye closure as tears began running down my face. Stepping in front, she adjusted the thin slides on the straps with an ear to ear grin. "Here cutie, dry those tears and look in the mirror. Isn't that the most darling bra ever. You're a thirty-four and with the gel padding a full A cup. I know it must be a shock to suddenly have breasts but those are small. This padding will do for now. Come on give me a smile darling. No one is going to question whether or not you're a boy now," she said which wasn't any comfort as what was left of my male ego fled down the proverbial toilet. Nothing shouts female louder than a pair of breasts. Breasts I now appeared to have and needed a bra for support. What I didn't catch at the time was her mentioning padded bras, "would do for now." After being put into a bra, the sunflower yellow nylon with lace trimming camisole wasn't much worse. The one inch of floral lace on the hem didn't quite reach my belly button. When I reached for the tee, Aunt Betsy grabbed it. "That cami is just too precious to hide under this tee darling. Young girls today often wear them as outer wear with jeans and you do look fabulous. Get your jeans on. We still have shopping to finish," she said stuffing the tee into her large purse. I don't think I could have turned a brighter pink than when I stepped out of that changing booth. Here I was out in public, wearing a padded bra and shimmering cami. The thin satin straps on the cami didn't come close to covering up those bra straps. Everyone would know that I was wearing a friggin bra. I was never a macho hunk but I was still all boy hoping to grow up as a man. With this page boy haircut, what I was wearing plus the navel piercing made me shrivel up on the inside. Aunt Betsy always said I should have been a girl and it seems like that's what she's hell bent on doing. Hopefully it's only for today while we're shopping but I have my doubts. What kind of manly clothing can she get me looking like this? Unfortunately I soon found out nothing close to manly. From the changing rooms she led me directly to foundations. "Darling you look precious in panties but just tucking still leaves an unsightly bulge. I think some small panty girdles will do the trick. Girls today don't use them like we did when I was a teenager. Back then they were a necessary part of fashion," she informed me. "But Aunt Betsy, this is just for today, isn't it? I won't be needing all of this," I whispered nervously. "Well I did get you two sets of day of the week panties darling. So of course you're going to need some girdles. You also need other things like slips and nighties. The cashier might become suspicious if we don't include those. Any young girl buying this much usually adds slips and a nightie or two. Do you want the clerk calling you out as a boy? Now no more questions and smile," she hissed glaring at me. For a moment I thought about running. What she was suggesting I didn't want any part of. I may be a "cute" guy but I was a guy after all. Running dressed and looking like I did really wasn't a logical choice now. I decided once back at the house, I could change, cut my hair then run. What she did next made sure I wouldn't run from the mall. Aunt Betsy removed a gold cylinder from her purse, grabbed me by the chin and painted my lips with lipstick. "Darling your lips need a touch up. I think this rum raisin lip balm will do the trick. Now pucker up or do I need to get something else out of my purse," she said. The last thing I wanted was to attract more attention or worse getting outted by the sales clerk. Getting a paddling in the lingerie department like some little kid, no way. Trying not to cry I did as she demanded. Walking away from lingerie, I carried four pair of high waisted girdles. I was wearing the black one. Two packages of panties, five camisoles with five matching half-slips and four bras. That was bad enough but the so-called pajamas were anything but. Shimmering ice lilac nylon with white floral lace on the bodice and hem cami-tap panty styled pajamas. A mid-thigh translucent lavender nylon robe with wide three-quarter sleeves hemmed in three inches of white floral lace came with them. They were the most feminine in the entire department and Aunt Betsy insisted I get them. If I thought exposed bra straps embarrassing what I had in my arms worse. I was relieved when we deposited those at the checkout. When I saw how much the cashier rang up, over $350, I knew Aunt Betsy wasn't going to just pack it away. My hope that she would return all or at least most of it in the next day or two was all I had. I figured my excursion into humiliation was over but I was wrong again. It was off to women's wear and more embarrassment. I thought she only said I needed new underwear and getting me lingerie just a means to humiliate me. Guys didn't wear all those unmentionables. Entering the Junior's section was a surprise. "If Aunt Betsy wanted to humiliate me, she's done a fantastic job of it already. So why here? I don't know if I can take much more," I thought. The Junior's department was over two hours of pure hell. Aunt Betsy had me trying on what seemed like a thousand different dresses, skirts, shorts and blouses. The only redeeming factor was that there were only a few customers to see my humiliation. "Here darling, go put this on again. I'm undecided on which outfit looks best. Go on scoot, then we can check out," she said handing me a black skater skirt and yellow semi-sheer poly cap sleeved blouse with a pleated front. "Finally," I thought. I was more than ready to get out of this hell hole. The skirt flared out from my hips reaching to mid-thigh and revealed way too much leg. The blouse just as bad as you could easily see the cami- top and bra straps through it. At least it concealed that horrible belly ring. Seeing my reflection though didn't help. Other than my trainers, I looked like most teenaged girls. "I shouldn't look this good," I thought as a shiver ran up my spine seeing that reflection. "Looking like this Aunt Betsy is going to have a field day kidding me about being a girl." My fears were justified as I stepped out of the changing cubicle. "Oh Ashley darling, you look divine in that. I just knew you would," she said then stepping into the cubicle removed my jeans. "I...I need those..to.. change," I stuttered. "Nonsense darling. You look marvelous in that cute outfit. Come along and we'll check out but let me make a little change," she replied again with that shit eating grin of hers. To my horror, she untucked the blouse and tied it into a loose bow just above my navel. Now that piercing would be visible again. With my hair, rum raisin lipstick, skirt and blouse I looked like a girl but that navel ring shouted femme. The only thing marring that image were my trainers. At the check out were three dresses, three skirts, five frilly blouses, a pair of bone colored denim short-shorts and pair of pale pink skinny jeans with rainbow embroidered rear pockets. The clothing cost more than $400. Again I hoped she would be returning all this stuff. With more bags than I cared to count, we headed back to the car. I can't begin to tell you how happy I was to see that car. I had a real smile on my face as we dumped the bags into the trunk. That smile vanished as she said we had some more shopping and taking my hand headed back. Thankfully we stopped at the food court. It was well past noon and I was starving. Like this entire damn day the burger and fries I wanted turned out to be a tuna salad and bottled water. What made me more uncomfortable was during the entire meal she was constantly pointing out the "cute" boys sitting or walking in the area. Aunt Betsy called them "cute" but they were all ruggedly handsome unlike me. Don't know why she kept doing that. I'm most definitely not into other boys like she was insinuating. As we dumped our left overs, she embarrassed me again. "Darling, we need to stop in the powder room. Don't be nervous. No one will guess your little secret unless you do something stupid like standing to pee. Come along and don't forget to smile and fix your lipstick when you're finished," she said handing me the golden tube. I really had to go and finishing off that bottle of water in no place to argue which bathroom to use. Like I could go in the boy's dressed and looking like I did. Still I was frightened by the prospect. Fortunately we were the only ones in there. I almost sprained a thumb trying to get that very tight girdle down. Beside my Aunt at the sinks, she showed me how to apply the lipstick then blot on a paper towel. As I was blotting, two women came in. They paid us no attention for which I let out a sigh. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I won't bore you with the details but when we left the mall laden with packages I was relieved but worried. I possessed seven pairs of women's shoes, three pair of strappy sandals, two open toed pumps, a pair of flats, and ankle boots with two gold chains across the vamp. The flats had one-inch kitten heels which I was now wearing. The others, from one and a half to three-inch spikes. There were two purses. The one I was using, a black hobo the other a black shoulder bag. Two dozen packets of pantyhose and some knee-highs. The largest bags contained personal items from the drug store. Most hygiene and beauty products along with a fingernail kit and several nail polishes, bobbie pins, cotton balls and pads. You get the idea. As we got in the car, I had hopes that she didn't really intend for me to actually use any of that stuff we bought today. It took three trips to get all the stuff she purchased into my room. With the bags scatter around our feet as we sat on the bed, Aunt Betsy handed me a pair of pinking shears. That's what she called them anyway. To me they were just small pointed scissors. "Okay darling, let's start removing all those tags and labels," she said reaching into a bag. Like I said I wasn't na?ve. I had returned items to the store and knew you had to keep the price tag and you didn't remove labels to get a refund. "Bu...but if we do that....they won't give you a refund," I blurted. "No, but I we don't intend to take anything back. You tried on most and the fit was perfect. Here, start on these bras darling," she said handing them to me. So much for my hopes that trip was just to humiliate me. As what she said hit home, I began crying in earnest. "Bu...but I....I don...don't want to...to wear any of this," I sobbed. "Like I've said darling, you're just too delicate and cute to be a boy. You saw all those young men I pointed out in the food court. Now can you honestly say that you are anything like them. Nature just made a minor mistake and gave you those little extra bits. So for now, we're going to experiment developing your feminine side. I think you will come to love the pampering and clothing choices all young girls love," she stated patting my thigh. "No! I won't! I'm not a girl!" I shouted. The stinging slap to my face was hard enough to send me reeling. "Ashley Adrian, you will obey me! I've always said you should have been a girl and I'm going to prove it even if I have to punish you every day," she shouted back. The anger in her voice was furious and I was scared shitless. I managed to control my tears when she said I even cried like a girl. It took me several minutes before I regained full control but I was now very frightened. I had absolutely no desire to either look or act like a girl. I was also convinced Aunt Betsy was crazy as a loon. Maybe crazy enough to really hurt me. Hell, she should have been the one those women in pink scrubs had taken away. Later, still dressed like I had been when we left the mall but wearing an apron and pink hairnet, I helped prepare supper. I was trembling at the thought of what Uncle Jake would say when he came home. It was bad enough at breakfast but now? At least the apron hid most of what I was wearing especially the top. I was petrified at what he might do seeing me wearing a bra and short skirt. Aunt Betsy must have seen how scared I was. "Darling, don't worry about your Uncle Jake. I've talked to him and explained that you needed to express your feminine side. Your Uncle can be very understanding at times, so relax," she said. Express my feminine side? That was absolutely the last thing I ever wanted to do but her reassurance helped. When he entered the kitchen, I blanched almost fainting I was so scared. He stopped in his tracks, gave me a hard look, shook his head, grabbed a beer then headed to the den. In a way I had hoped he would have said something to make Aunt Betsy stop all this. Like all my other hopes, it was just a pipe dream. Hope after hope evaporating like smoke in the wind. While I was cleaning up the kitchen, she grabbed some trash bags and left. Later Uncle Jake came in carrying several bulging bags and went out the door. When he came back, gave me a hard look, nodded his head and left. I was a bit puzzled but didn't give it much thought. It wasn't until I went to get ready for bed that I understood. All my boy's clothing was gone. If I were going to escape this madness, I now had to do it dressed like a girl. Chapter 6 I had thought the trip to the mall was humiliating. What Aunt Betsy had me doing now was worse. My morning toilet was no less embarrassing as she supervised my every movement. Back in the bedroom, she handed me a scarlet gel padded bra. "This morning I'm going to teach you how to properly put on your bra," she told me. "Auntie please. Despite the way I look, I'm a guy. I don't have breasts, so why the bra? I don't want to be a silly girl or wear any of this. Haven't you humiliated me enough already?" I complained. "Ashley, it isn't my intension to humiliate you. It is my intent to prove to you that you should have been a girl all along. Now stop resisting me and do what you're told," she admonished. I spent the next forty-five minutes practicing putting on a bra behind my back. My arms and fingers were aching by the time she was satisfied. Next, she gave me a pair of hip-hugger matching panties and showed me how to tuck my privates. Once I figured out the right place to push my testicles up, it didn't hurt much. With the panty hose and matching girdle, I was as flat as any girl. The tightness and heat from wearing all that was disconcerting. More so when I realized what a pain in the ass it would be to use the bathroom. "Whenever you get dressed, it is important that all your lingerie is coordinated darling. It's the proper thing to do. Get a camisole and half-slip while I find a nice skirt and blouse," she said. The skirt she selected was the one I liked the least. It was a below the knee, red wool blend straight skirt. Aunt Betsy called it a hobble skirt and it certainly restrained my stride when I tried it on. The translucent black chiffon blouse had a chin high ruffled neck with wide frilly lace cravat tie and billowing long sleeves with lacy cuffs. I would have liked seeing that on a girl but not me. To finish my dressing gave me several rings, the black patent leather shoulder bag and one-and-a-half-inch spike heeled pumps. The shoes were a tight fit and pinched my toes. The heel wasn't that high she told me but my ankles wobbled unsteadily. Just standing took all my concentration as I felt like I was leaning forward and going to do a face plant. "One more thing and we'll be ready to start your training in earnest," she said applying that rum raisin lipstick then dropping it into the purse. I just couldn't bring myself to call all this stuff "my" or "mine." My mind wasn't ready to accept that. I guess it was a defense mechanism against what she was doing. I wasn't physically able to resist but I was determined not to let her get into my head. I still harbored hopes. Hopes to find a way to escape. If that didn't pan out; then, hoped it would all end once summer was over. Better yet Mom comes and saves me sooner. Aunt Betsy held my arm as we walked around getting me used to the heels. The tight skirt limited my normal stride into short mincing steps. With each step I thought I was going to twist an ankle. Walking felt so unnatural and made these zipping sounds as my thighs rubbed against the panty hose. As we walked she kept barking orders at me. "Back straight, chin up, chest out, place the foot toe first then the heel. Keep those elbows by your side, wrists loose. Hold your purse to your side with your elbow." Once she was confidant I wouldn't fall on my face, taught me how to sit, stoop and stand like a girl. Having to keep my knees pressed together whenever I sat. She used a quarter. If it fell because my knees parted, I got a swat of her hairbrush. Everything she was teaching was so foreign, so different from normal, my mind was exhausted. It took all my concentration. That night after I was ready for bed Aunt Betsy surprised the hell out of me. She brought this weird looking machine into the room. Placing it on the bedside table plugged it in. "Tonight we're going to see if we can solve the problem of you not having breasts. This is a milking machine mothers use to collect breast milk. Normally it pulses but I modified it. I think over time with nightly use and this special cream, your body will respond," she told me. She coated my chest with what looked like cold cream then placed the two plastic cups over my nipples. Turning on the machine what chest flesh I had was sucked up into the cups. I could feel the suction pulling my skin to almost fill those round plastic molds. It didn't hurt, just felt strange. When she secured me to the bed so I had to sleep on my back, I wasn't happy. I liked sleeping on my stomach. I had enough biology to know the machine really couldn't do anything permanent. What I didn't know was that cream contained a very high dose of hormones. After a week of lessons, moving like a girl became more natural but walking in higher heels still difficult. I never used to think about walking on any surface but now paid attention. Walking from a hard surface to carpeted required a different step. Later, forget about walking in grass or gravel. Concrete and asphalt had its own set of problems. The lessons never stopped, day in, day out she was constantly instructing me. After two weeks it became much easier and began teaching me new things. New things from talking softly using a higher pitch to how I used my hands. A lot of my time was spent watching You Tube of girls interacting. She especially wanted me to pick up on their vocabulary and body language. Later, makeup application, hairstyles and fashion. Besides watching You Tube, I was given magazines suitable for a teenage girl to study. She would test me and administer punishment with the hairbrush if I didn't do well. By the end of June what had been alien to me, now normal. My mannerisms and speech patterns girlish enough to please Aunt Betsy. The lessons were a real pain but what was happening to my chest a mental anguish. When she removed those cups in the morning my chest did have small mounds with reddened enlarged nipples but gradually shrank back. I didn't expect them to last anyway, well not at first. As the days passed into weeks, those mounds didn't go away. Seeing my chest actually filling those A-cups was mind blowing. As far as using my laptop for personal entertainment, forget it. The first day I arrived, she took it. I didn't get it back until Aunt Betsy decided I needed to watch You Tube. In the meantime, she had it modified. All my porn sites, e-mail and social media accounts deleted. In their place were sites suitable for teenaged girls, new Facebook account and strict parental controls. Facebook had me as Ashley A. female and the groups I was following typical girl's stuff. Worse, the picture was of me in full female mode. Aunt Betsy made sure I entered new pictures and comments on a frequent basis. Chapter 7 Aunt Betsey was standing behind me with her hands on my shoulders as we gazed into the full length mirror. I was wearing a blue satin bra, blue nylon high cut panties and matte blue girdle with bright satin center panel for lingerie. It was going to be a hot day and happy she didn't make me wear pantyhose. Over that I had on a baby blue sundress with small floral print and white strappy sandals with two-inch spike heels. I was standing straight backed, chin up and chest out with my legs together. The image was of a pretty but not beautiful, young girl. "Ashley you look fabulous. No one is going to believe that you're not a pretty young girl. Keep that mind set as we go to the salon and take advantage of the Fourth of July sales. I expect your full cooperation today and a happy smile on your face, understand?" she said. "Yes, Auntie," I answered. I had been out in public dressed many times over the past two months. Mostly running minor errands like the grocery, cleaners and such. Those outings were nerve wracking at first but gave me confidence. However this one bothered me. Auntie as I was now to call her, insisted I go to the salon for a makeover then shopping at the mall. Two things that would force me to actively participate and doing it happily. I was anything but happy about doing any of this. I was dreading it; especially, going to the beauty salon. I was petrified over what they would do. Auntie told me she had everything arranged. All I had to do was smile my happy smile and act excited. Getting to look more girlie than I already was, had absolutely no appeal. Adding to my worry she said it was time to update my Facebook profile picture. Exposing me in drag in this small town was one thing but Facebook went all over the place. Before my trip to The Cut and Curl Beauty Salon I would have given myself maybe a 4 on the guy's beauty scale. When I left a 5. When Auntie said a makeover she wasn't kidding. My brown hair was given a soft perm which left it in flowing waves, my brows waxed into high feminine arches and acrylic half inch extensions. In the mall our first stop was the makeup counter. There I was treated to a glamour look and lengthy instruction. I don't even want to think about how much Auntie spent buying all that gunk. Gunk she would have me wearing from now on. Seeing my made up face that rating went up to a solid 6. The only thing preventing a higher rating was my lack of a bigger bust. The rest of the trip was anticlimactic except she made me get a bikini. At least it wasn't one of those tiny string ones. The one she decided upon was black with neon pink stripes at the hips. The spandex bottoms were a high thigh brief style and halter bra cups full coverage with foam padding. It came with a translucent black nylon cover-up with pink piping. Having to wear that outfit in public wasn't something I wanted to do. When we left I had one new dress, two skirts, four frilly blouses and a pair of four-inch pencil heeled peep toed red pumps. My fears about wearing that bikini came true July fourth when it was decided we were going to the lake. It was considered THE place to go during the summer by the locals. Uncle Jake pulled into the parking lot at the boat landing. A restaurant/bar with a large deck and porch along the water front was nearby. We were early yet that place was packed. Seeing all the people I was glad Auntie decided to spend time on the brown sand beach. The beach wasn't crowded like the bar but enough to bother me. Wearing that bikini made me feel naked in front of a bunch of strangers. Auntie chose a spot near some boys and girls playing volleyball adding to my unease. As much as I love to swim I wasn't about to go near the water. No, not like this. I was miserable and wanted to be left alone but that didn't happen. Auntie, like in the food court, kept an ongoing commentary about the young men on the beach. I heard more than enough about six pack abs and tight round butts. I tried my best to ignore her but to no avail. She insisted I look at the boy she picked and tell her what I liked about him. "Ashley, darling, just look at that hunk. Why he has muscles on his muscles. I bet you would love to be held in those strong arms. I know I would if I were thirty years younger. Well, just don't sit there, tell me what you think," she said poking my arm. "Auntie, I'm not into other boys like you're suggesting," I replied blushing at the idea. "Ashley, get your mind out of the gutter. Now, look at him and tell me what you think makes him so appealing. And....I'm not talking about that bulge in his trunks like you're thinking," she snapped. I wasn't thinking anything like that but I did look. It was only for an instant and she noticed. "Made you look," she said with that shit eating grin of hers. "Crap!" I thought. That was typical for my day at the beach. Like I needed any more reminders of how pathetic a man I was. Then it happened. The volleyball rolled up near me and a young man coming to retrieve it. "Be polite and toss it back," Auntie demanded. I picked it up and did as instructed. Not much of a toss but he caught it on the bounce. "Sorry bout that," he said coming up to us. "Hey, we could use another girl on my team. Would you like to join us? My name is Thad by the way." "Thad, what a nice gesture. Ashley would just love to. Go along Ashley darling and have some fun," she blurted before I could respond. I must have turned white as a sheet when she said that but Thad grabbed my hand leading me away. The next two hours seemed like forever and traumatic. Thankfully no one caught on to my masquerade. From my readings and You Tube, I was convincing to the other girls. However, dealing with boys nerve wracking. Like I said earlier, I was never good at team sports but as a girl okay. I even scored a point much to my surprise. A point I came to regret as Thad came over and kissed me on the lips. It wasn't a lingering kiss, just a peck but it made my stomach churn. "Great shot Ashley," he said stepping back with a big grin. Needless to say, I made damn sure I didn't score another point. I was greatly relieved when Auntie came over to tell me it was time to leave. That is until she gave Thad our phone number. She also gave it to Nancy who came over to say goodbye. Auntie also told them I was visiting and had no friends in the area. Her hint was anything but subtle, a chill of foreboding ran up my spine. "Ashley you've come a long way in finding your true self. Still, you need to be with others your age. That's why I gave them our number. Going out with boys and being with girls your age is very important for your growth. I'm pretty sure that handsome young man or nice girl will call. When they do, you will be nice and if asked out, will do it, understand!" she said when I complained. SIBC Check out my latest story, Nurse Higgins, at tgstories.com posted Dec. 2017 and my illustrated stories on Lulu.