Summer With Aunt Chloe free porn video

Looking back now, I suppose I had a sheltered childhood. An only child, I lived in the same house from birth all through my school days. My secondary school was an all-boys grammar school. I didn't have much contact with girls. Certainly not a girl-friend. I had passed my exams at the end of my final year at school and had accepted a place at University. Then came the family break-up. I won't explain here details of the domestic crisis. Just to say that my parents and I went our three separate ways. My mother arranged for me to go and stay with one of her cousins. The cousin was divorced and had two daughters still living with her. I didn't really know this part of the family. They lived about a couple of hundred miles away. I suppose we must have met at some family gathering. But I didn't remember. It must have been a long time ago. But the arrangement had two things going for it. Firstly, it put a roof over my head for a couple of months before I went to college. And secondly, the youngest daughter would be starting her second year at the same college where I would be starting my first year. So we could travel to university together and she would be able to show me around and give me a few pointers. I wouldn't be thrust all alone into a completely new environment, having to fend for myself all alone for the first time in my life. I travelled by train with a couple of suitcases. Not so many belongings really, but as much as I could carry. My Aunt Chloe met me at the railway station. She seemed very friendly and I suppose you would say that she was attractive. Well, what I mean is, that someone of her generation would find her attractive. But what I noticed most of all were her prominent breasts. I don't mean that they were huge. And of course I couldn't actually see them. But the dress she was wearing showed the shape of them quite clearly. Well-rounded. They bounced gently as she moved. I wondered whether it was really the outline of her nipples that I could see, or perhaps it was her bra? As we drove to her house I tried to interest myself in my surroundings. But my eyes kept returning to her fascinating bust. I had never been so close to such an obviously feminine chest. My mother wasn't very well endowed in that department. She didn't exude femininity like Aunt Chloe did. We arrived at a house in the suburbs. It was a detached building set a little way back from the road. Not huge, but certainly larger and more prosperous looking than my home. My former home, that is. "The girls are out at the moment," said Aunt Chloe. "You'll meet them later this afternoon." She helped me get my cases out of the car. "I'm afraid they are rather heavy for me," she said. "I'll have to leave you to carry them upstairs. Leave them in the hall for now and I'll show you round the house." The downstairs rooms were spacious and comfortably furnished. There was a tennis court in the back garden. Then Aunt Chloe led the way upstairs. Once again I had the sensation of her femininity. Her ankles and calves. The way her hips and bottom moved. Of my closeness to her. "We each have our own rooms," she explained. She pointed at the doors in turn. "That's my room, this one is Mary's and this one is Helen's." She led me along the landing. "And this is your room. I hope you find it comfortable enough. There is a chest of drawers and an empty wardrobe with plenty of hangers to put your clothes in. And here you have your own bathroom, although there is a shower instead of a bath. But as you can see, there is a toilet and a socket for an electric razor if you need it. So why don't you bring your cases up and start unpacking. I'll make some tea in half an hour or so. OK?" "Yes, thank you," I said a little nervously. Trying not to stare at her breasts. I had hung up my shirts, jackets and trousers in the wardrobe, and stowed my pants and socks etc in the chest of drawers by the time I heard the girls come in. Then Aunt Chloe called out that tea was ready. I checked my appearance in the mirror and went downstairs. A little nervously. I found the others in the kitchen. Aunt Chloe made the introductions. "Dee, this is Mary who will be going back to college with you, and this is Helen my elder daughter." I smiled as sweetly as I could and murmured, "Hello." I think that they could tell I was rather shy. The two girls, only a little older than me, were very attractive young ladies. I couldn't help noticing that they had obviously inherited their mother's bust. And they also were wearing dresses that accentuated the outline of their feminine assets. I tried to avoid looking at them. This was difficult as there were now three pairs of boob shapes in fairly close proximity. They all tried to make me feel at ease, obviously realising that I was feeling rather awkward in the situation in which I found myself. They asked me about the journey, about what course I would be studying at college, and so on. To my relief the circumstances that had brought me to their house were not mentioned. I wasn't very good at small talk. So it was with some relief that we went and sat in front of the television. After a light supper I said I was rather tired and would like an early night. I went up to my room. I finished emptying my cases and got undressed. As I walked across to the bed I caught sight of my reflection in the full-length wardrobe mirror. The reflection of a boy. And as I glanced at my reflected flat chest, I couldn't help thinking about the three pairs of shapely breasts that I was now sharing a house with. And thinking about the shape of them, and how they moved sensuously under the bodices of their owners' dresses, I realised that I would have to return to the bathroom to deal with my throbbing cock. And a short time later I slid between the bedclothes and was asleep almost immediately. The next morning I awoke feeling refreshed. I had slept well. I shaved and showered. As I was getting dressed I could hear the girls playing tennis. I peeked through a gap in the curtains. The tennis court was just below my window, a few yards away. As I watched, I could see the way the girls' breasts bounced around as they played. When they bent down in their short tennis skirts to pick up balls I could see their knickers. I got another erection. But I could also smell coffee and realised that Aunt Chloe would have heard me using the bathroom. She would be expecting me to go downstairs. Quickly I finished dressing and opened the curtains. Mary obviously noticed the curtains moving and waved. I waved back, then turned towards the bedroom door, my erection starting to diminish as I prepared myself to go down and meet Aunt Chloe. "I hope you're feeling refreshed," she said as I went into the kitchen. "You looked bushed last night so I let you sleep in." She was wearing a different dress from yesterday. But her boobs were still prominent. And gently moving about in a fascinating, almost hypnotic way. Our eyes met and she smiled. "Coffee?" she asked. I breakfasted on cereal, fruit, yoghurt and coffee. I heard the girls come in and go up to their rooms. As I was helping clear away, they came into the kitchen, obviously freshly showered. I tried not to look at their breasts. "Why don't you take Dee into town and show him where things are?" said Aunt Chloe. "OK," said Helen. "Come on then, it's only a short walk." I hadn't been walking around in the company of two young women before. Especially two women with... Oh dear. I have to stop thinking about breasts all the time. I really did try to stop looking at them. Well looking at them directly. There were plenty of reflections in shop windows. Although once or twice the girls giggled as I seemed to be taking an interest in window displays that I then realised were of women's clothes or lingerie. They showed me where to find the bust station (sorry, I meant bus station), cinema, bank, and so on. And which restaurants they preferred. They asked if the place was very different from where I had been living. There were, of course many of the same high street brands, but generally this place looked a bit more prosperous than my old home town. We had pizza for lunch. Helen said she was ravenous after the game of tennis. "Do you play?" she asked. I shook my head. There hadn't been a tennis court at our house. Nor a local club as far as I knew. And only limited opportunity at school. "Well you could always have a game with one of us," said Mary. "The tennis court is always there, and we aren't always both free to play at the same time. So you'll have plenty of opportunities to try playing and see if you like it." I nodded and said I'd bear it in mind. Actually, what was in my mind was the sight of them in their short tennis dresses... When we got back to the house I went up to my room. I couldn't help thinking about the two girls. And their shapely, bouncy boobs. And their tennis outfits. I had a throbbing erection even before I reached my bedroom door. Later we had a meal together and then sat watching the television. I tried to keep my eyes on the TV set, but of course, when one of the others said something I turned to look at them. I had to deal with another erection before getting into bed. The next day I woke up thinking about tennis. And being on the court close to one or other of the sisters. In her short tennis dress. The way her breasts would move about as she darted round the court. And showing her knickers from time to time... I had to dash to the bathroom to avoid making a creamy mess on the bed-clothes. At breakfast I learned that there would be no tennis today as both girls had other things to do. So I went into town on my own to familiarise myself with the layout of the place. I went to the same restaurant for lunch and had some pasta. "No pretty girls with you today then?" said the waiter. Back at the house I found that the girls were still out. Aunt Chloe was in though. She showed me into the lounge. "Now, Dee," she said. "I need to have a word with you. It's clear that you are not used to the company of ladies. And you seem to have a fixation with breasts." She cupped one of hers through the material of her dress. "Women have breasts you know. It's quite natural. Some are smaller, some larger. We didn't choose the size. But it's not healthy for you to keep staring at them all the time." Now she had each of her hands cupping a breast. "They're quite heavy, you know. And sometimes they get in the way. You need to appreciate what it's like to have breasts and what it's like to have someone looking at them. So I've decided to give you a pair for a while." I stared at her in surprise. From beside her chair she picked up a box and opened it. In the box was a pair of silicone breasts, wobbling a bit like jelly as she showed it to me. "Take your shirt off. Let's see if you have a hairy chest." I complied. "Oh no you haven't," she said. "That's good. Otherwise you'd need to shave it so that the adhesive will stick properly." She put some cleaning fluid on a cotton wool pad and wiped my chest where the falsies were going to be attached. At the back of my mind I was wondering why I was letting her do this. But at the front of my mind I was intrigued and even excited by the idea. She sprayed the back of one of the boobs and carefully positioned it on my chest. "Now you'll need to hold it for a short while until the glue sets," she said. She carefully positioned the other boob. Now I was holding a boob in each hand, rather as she had been cupping her own breasts a few minutes before. After a few moments she checked that the adhesive was set. "Now these breasts are intended for women who have had to have one or both breasts removed because of cancer or something. They are meant to look as realistic as possible under clothing, and to move just as real breasts do. The adhesive is quite long lasting, but I have some solvent so that we can take your boobies off again if and when necessary. OK?" I nodded. "Right, you can stop holding them now." They were heavy! And, I realised, quite large. Aunt Chloe told me to put my shirt back on. It was now quite tight and clearly one or even two sizes too small for my new measurements. "It's good that it's a snug fit," she said. "It will stop your breasts moving about too much until we have got you a properly fitting bra. Come on, let's go to the shops." "Er, have I got to go out like this?" I asked nervously. "I'm afraid so," she replied. "You can't get a bra that fits properly unless you are measured for it. Put a loose jacket on. Then your bust won't be quite as noticeable." As I stood up I found that I had to adjust my posture. I had to push my shoulders further back to counteract the additional weight of my breasts. And as I went carefully to my bedroom for a jacket I could feel my boobies bouncing up and down with each step. "Take your time," said Aunt Chloe. "Don't go dashing about until you've got a bra on. Oh, and by the way. Remember that people with breasts sit down to pee." I felt very self-conscious as we walked at a gentle pace to the shopping centre. I wanted to hold my breasts to support them, but knew that this would have attracted attention. Aunt Chloe took me into a small shop - a specialist in bras and corsetry. The manageress took us into a small room at the back where I was told to take my shirt off. She didn't show any facial expression to indicate that she thought the situation was unusual. I guessed she was just being professional. (Or maybe she had both male and female clients?) She used a measuring tape round my chest just below my breasts and over the fullest part of them, and then over my shoulders. Then she selected a bra from one of the shelves round the room. She adjusted the length of the shoulder straps and then held it for me to put my arms in. Then she carefully placed the bra cups onto my breasts and fastened the back hooks. Then she adjusted the shoulder straps until she was satisfied with the fit. The bra was white with some lacy bits at the top of the cups. It felt very comfortable and certainly distributed the weight of my tits onto my shoulders and back. "There are three rows of hooks at the back," she explained. " You need to use the last set of three hooks. Now it's best if you put your breasts into the cups like I've just done for you, and then to reach behind your back to fasten the back hooks. But reaching behind your back may require a bit of practice. If necessary, you can put the bra round your waist back to front so that you can do up the hooks in front of you, then turn it round, pull it up and put your arms through. But it's not the best way to make sure it is fitting properly. So practise fastening your bra behind your back if you can. You shouldn't ever need to adjust the shoulder straps again." A glance passed between her and Aunt Chloe. "I'll just take a few more measurements," she said. "Just in case." She checked my waist and hip measurements, round my lower ribcage, and the height from bra strap to waist at front and back and sides. I put my shirt back on. It was a little tighter even than before. I could see that the lacy bits could be seen through my shirt. But then realised that this did not really matter. Anyone who noticed that I was wearing a bra would already have seen the size of my tits. I slipped my jacket back on while Aunt Chloe paid the bill. Then she took me to another clothes shop where she selected a couple of blouses and some knitted tops. "These will be more comfortable than your tight shirts," she said with a sweet smile. We walked back home. It was definitely more comfortable wearing a bra. When you've got large breasts. When we got home, the girls were still out. I went to my bedroom, took off my jacket and shirt, and put on one of my new tops. It was pale blue and as soon as I put it on I realised that it emphasised my generously sized bust. Probably I now had the largest tits in the house. It was an exhilarating feeling. I could feel my breasts with my hands. Unfortunately I couldn't feel my hands with my breasts. I could, however, sense that my boobs were attached to my chest; were part of my body. When I lifted them in my hands my chest moved with them and the tension in my bra-straps changed. I turned from side to side, watching my reflection in the wardrobe mirror, pleased with the shape of my tits and the way they moved. My cock got very hard. My erection subsided somewhat when I heard the girls come back into the house. Sooner or later I would have to go downstairs. How would they react? I decided to wait until I was called downstairs to eat. I didn't have long to wait. When I entered the kitchen, three pairs of eyes turned towards me. My new boobies were the centre of attention. Helen giggled. "Nice," she said. "Join the club," laughed Mary. We sat down to eat. It was strange to find that when I looked down at my plate I could see my large bust. Normally I would have been able to see the edge of the table, but this was now concealed by the lumps on my chest. I could sense that the three women's eyes kept looking at my tits, even when I didn't see their eyes move. Now I knew what it was like to be stared at, to feel that my boobies were being scrutinised. But also I didn't feel so guilty about looking at their tits and comparing them to my own. Fortunately my erection was concealed by the dinner table. After the meal we sat and watched the television. But I was still conscious of frequent glances in my direction. I engaged more in the conversation that evening. I didn't speak all that much, but felt more part of the group and less of an outsider. The girls explained what they had done during the day and who they had met. Aunt Chloe told them that she and I had gone into town. But she didn't say that we had purchased a bra. Which I was now wearing. Because I had tits. Later in the bedroom, naked. Looking at my reflection in the full length mirror. My tits still firmly attached. Not quite the same colour as my skin. But they had now taken on my body heat. They felt warm to the touch. Part of me. I liked what I saw. Tits. My tits. And a throbbing erection. Which I needed to deal with. After which I felt very tired. I slipped into bed and was very soon asleep. The next morning Mary invited me to play tennis with her. I said that I'd never played, or at least not with a real racquet on a real tennis court. "Don't worry," she replied. "We can just knock the balls over the net. You just try to keep knocking it back, to try and maintain a rally as long as possible. That's the way to get the feel of the racquet and to gauge the speed of the ball and how hard to hit it. We won't worry about scoring for now." So I agreed. I didn't have any shorts so I wore jeans with a pair of sneakers. And a white top. Mary wore tennis whites - an open necked shirt and a very short skirt. We played for about an hour. It was strange running or changing direction with all that extra weight bouncing around on my chest. And sometimes, especially when playing backhand, my arm would come into contact with my right breast. There hadn't been anything there before for my arm to touch. Mary didn't actively flash her knickers at me. But she didn't seem bothered if I caught glimpses of them. We both went to our rooms for a shower and a change of clothes after we'd finished playing. I put on a white blouse. I liked the way my bra showed through the material of the blouse. We went to sit in the lounge. Aunt Chloe and Helen joined us. Now that I was getting used to having tits and wearing a bra, there was something else that I became more aware of: I was the only one wearing trousers. The others were all wearing skirts and their legs were encased in nylon. Aunt Chloe's skirt hemline was just above her knees. The girls skirts were a little shorter. I found that my eyes were now focusing more on their legs than their busts. I guess Aunt Chloe must have noticed this. She went off to town a little later. That evening after we had eaten and were all sitting in the lounge, the females were chatting away and I would join in occasionally. Aunt Chloe suddenly turned to me and said "Wouldn't you prefer to wear a skirt like us?" I was so shocked that she should just ask this in front of the girls that I couldn't answer immediately. "I've got a dress that I think would fit you," said Helen. "I don't ever wear it now, but you could have it if you would like." I was still trying to decide what to say. My Aunt continued, "If you want to wear a skirt and nylons, you need to make sure that your legs are hairless. I bought you some depilatory cream. Just in case." She handed me a small plastic shopping bag. "Use it tomorrow before you get in the shower. Then I'll come to your room and help you get dressed afterwards." The conversation then switched back to the previous subject. I still hadn't found what to say. Could I have dreamed what had just been said to me? But if it was a dream, how did I come to be holding a bag with hair-removing cream? I decided to go to bed. As I walked along the landing to my room, Aunt Chloe followed me. I turned to look at her. "If you are going to use the depilatory cream, I suggest that you use it on all of your legs right up to your waist, front and back. Do you understand what I mean?" she said. I nodded. "Your underwear will feel much nicer if it is direct contact with your flesh, and there is no hair in the way. You could use it right now if you want to," she went on. She smiled and went to her room and I went into my bedroom. I took the tube of cream out of the bag and read the instructions. Maybe it would be a good idea to use it that night. Then if there were areas where it hadn't worked properly I could try again in the morning. I stripped off and went into the bathroom. There was a plastic spreader provided with the tube and I used this to apply the cream, starting with my lower legs and working my way up. I coated my balls and cock, the cheeks of my bottom, and in between my bottom cheeks. The I stood with my legs apart as the clock in the bathroom slowly ticked away the seconds and minutes. I waited for the maximum time recommended. The instructions warned that if one felt a tingling sensation, the cream should be rinsed off immediately. I didn't feel any tingling, so I left it a bit longer before turning on the shower. I hadn't thought that my body was very hairy, apart from my pubic area, but I was surprised to see how much hair was being washed across the base of the shower to the drain. Following the instructions I gently rubbed my pubes to loosen the few remaining hairs. Once out of the shower, I padded, rather than rubbed, the treated areas of my body with the towel, following the instructions. I then examined my body. The cream seemed to have been completely successful. My cock and balls were as hairless as a baby's, and the skin of my legs was as smooth as glass. Babies don't get huge erections, though. I had to deal with that before getting into bed. The next morning, when I came out of the bathroom after shaving and showering, Aunt Chloe was sitting on the bed waiting for me. I quickly put my hands in front of my cock. She smiled. "Don't worry, dear. I've come to help you get dressed." she said. "You can turn your back to me." I did so. "Here you are," she went on. "Fasten your suspender belt." It had a series of hooks and eyes at the front. "Now breathe in," she said and started to tighten some laces at the back. "Now you take the laces," she said, "and tighten them as much as you are comfortable with, then tie them in a bow." I did as I was told. "Here are your knickers," she said, handing me a pair of silky pink knickers. I stepped into them and pulled them up over the suspenders. They felt divine. Cool and soft. they caressed my bottom and fitted round my balls very snugly. I realised that she had been right about the absence of hair enabling an intimate contact between knickers and flesh. "OK, Turn around. Let me see how they fit." Despite my embarrassing situation my cock was now rock hard. "Don't worry. that's a natural reaction when a boy puts his first pair of knickers on." Her words made me think. HIS first pair. His own. Not "borrowed" ones. Knickers that belong to him. Or in my case, MY knickers. Knickers just for ME. I now possessed MY OWN KNICKERS. And I was WEARING them. She continued, speaking in a kind gentle tone. "The style is a little old-fashioned, but very suitable for sissy boys. These knickers fit nicely round your bottom and leave plenty of room for growth at the front, don't they?" She looked at me and smiled as I blushed. It was certainly true that the front of the knickers were able to contain my erection. Nothing was poking outside. "I bought you several pairs," she told me. "Do you like them?" I nodded. "Tell me you like wearing them," she insisted. "Thank you, Aunt Chloe," I replied. "I like wearing my knickers." "That's a good boy," she said. "Now sit on the edge of the bed and I'll show you how to put your stockings on. You take them carefully out of the pack like this and use your fingers to gather them over your thumbs." she showed me, then handed me a stocking to do it for myself. "Now put your toe in and spread the stocking up your leg. That's right. Now fasten your suspender clasps. Foe each of your stockings there are two at the front and one near the back." When I had done this she gave me the other stocking to put on. "Now adjust your suspenders so that your stockings are nicely taut." When I had done this she stroked my leg. "Do you like wearing your stockings?" "Yes," I replied. "I like wearing my stockings and suspenders." She smiled. "Now you had better put your bra on," she said. She nodded approvingly as I managed to fasten the bra behind my back. I was glad I had practised doing this. "Here's the dress that Helen has given you," said Aunt Chloe. "She doesn't wear skirts quite so short these days." She helped me put it on. It was red and quite short. And I was an inch or two taller than Helen. But it did actually fit me rather well. I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The bodice was a little stretchy so it clung to my bust, showing the shape of my breasts. The waist was slightly elasticated and the skirt slightly flared. So it did give me quite a girly shape. And showed quite a lot of my legs. "I bought you a pair of shoes," said Aunt Chloe. "I hope they fit." I tried them on. They were a perfect fit and had heels that were a bit less than 2 inches tall. When I stood up I could feel how the heels changed my stance. My bottom seemed to stick out more. I could see in the mirror that my legs were now more shapely. "Try walking. Take shorter steps than you're used to." I did as I was told. I was now used to having large tits and wearing a bra. But now I had a suspender belt firmly gripping my waist and tugging at my taut stocking-tops with every step. There was a little swishing sound as my stockings rubbed together. my legs felt fantastic - even those not-so-high heels made a lot of difference. My silky knickers seemed to be stroking my bottom as my cheeks moved as I walked. And I was only intermittently aware of my skirt as it brushed my legs. Not at all like wearing trousers. In fact it was a delicious combination of firmly gripping straps and soft freedom. Of the safety of my bra and suspenders holding things together and the danger that my skirt might reveal my knickers and the fact that I had a cock in them. "Right," said Aunt Chloe. Now come and sit down at the dressing table. Remember to use your hands to smooth your skirt under your bottom when you sit down. And practise keeping your knees together - boys will want to look up your skirt!" I did as I was told. "Now I can't do a lot with your hair until it's a bit longer," she said. She combed it with the parting in a different place and inserted a hair clip. Red to match my dress. "Just a little lipstick for now," she went on, indicating with her mouth how I was to present my lips for the lipstick to be applied. "Now stand up and look at yourself in the mirror," she said. I saw a slightly boyish girl in a red dress. Or perhaps a very girly boy in a red dress. He/she had long pretty legs and was showing quite a lot of leg above the knee in his/her short skirt. "Now check your underwear," she said. "Lift your skirt." I liked what I saw. Taut dark stocking tops, white suspenders over pale hairless thighs, silky pink knickers with the unmistakeable outline of a huge erection inside them. "I obviously need to ease that swelling for you," said my Aunt. She put a Kleenex on the dressing table. "Keep holding your skirt up." She pulled down my knickers to take hold of my cock and picked up a small glass from the dressing table. A few moments later my whole body seemed to explode as the cum shot into the glass. She kept stroking until she had milked out every drop, then handed me the glass. "Now swallow it all." I obeyed as she used the tissue to wipe the tip of my shrivelled cock and tucked it back into my knickers. I had never tasted cum before. It was a strange gloopy sort of consistency and was slightly salty. I noticed that my lipstick left a slight red mark on the glass. "Now I want you to use this glass every time you need to reduce any similar swelling," she said. "And always swallow it all. You will feel more and more girly each time you do." I could see in the mirror that my knickers now had a much more feminine outline. My tiny cock made hardly a bulge. But I still liked the view of my gorgeous undies. "Now put your skirt down and come downstairs and show the other girls how pretty you are." She led the way. "Take your time on the stairs," she said. "You need to get used to wearing heels." She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back up at me as I came down slowly and carefully. I wondered how much she could see up my skirt. I remember that a question occurred to me. How come my Aunt knew all about sissy boys, what they liked or needed, and how to deal with them. But this was a question that I pushed to the back of my mind. I didn't want the dream to stop. The girls seemed pleased to see me and greeted me with big smiles. "Who's a pretty boy then?" asked Helen and the others laughed. I smiled and felt myself blushing. But I didn't really mind. I felt pretty. "The dress suits you," said Mary, "and you've got lovely legs." "We can all go out clothes shopping together," said Helen, touching my arm gently. "Why don't we go out now before the shops get really busy?" I was suddenly rather nervous about going out in public. But going early before the crowds arrived seemed less of a risk. And in any case, I would be with the others, who would be able to look after me. It was already a sunny day. No coats seemed necessary. And of course, I didn't have one. But as soon as I stepped outside the front door I could feel the fresh air on my bare thighs. For a moment I had a sensation of someone's cool fingers reaching up my skirt. A very different sensation from wearing trousers. And as we walked along arm in arm I had to keep reassuring myself that my short skirt did actually cover the top of my legs. That my stocking-tops and knickers were not on open display. I supposed girls have grown up with wearing skirts and have confidence that their modesty is covered. And in any case, if they should ever accidentally flash their knickers, they would only reveal a glimpse of a feminine shape. Whereas I might display bulging knickers. Might give away my sissy secret. Although, I realised, following my recent milking there wouldn't be much of a bulge. Probably the fresh air would also assist in keeping everything small and neat. I bought a couple of dresses. Then I tried on shoes. I concentrated on keeping my thighs close together while the sales assistant was kneeling in front of me. She wasn't obviously looking up my skirt, but I felt a little tingle in the end of my cock at the thought that she might catch a glimpse of my knickers. I left the shop with two pairs of shoes. With slightly higher heels than the ones I was wearing. In a sports shop I bought some tennis shoes and white socks. And a short tennis skirt at Mary's insistence. I didn't get any tennis knickers. Aunt Chloe said she had bought me enough pairs of knickers to last more than a week. We went for a coffee. I was relieved that we didn't go to the restaurant we had used before. The waiter might have recognised me. It suddenly occurred to me that he was the only person in the town that I had spoken to other than Aunt Chloe and the girls. When we got home I hung up my new dresses in the wardrobe. They went into the middle of the hanging space. I pushed my male clothes towards the ends of the rail. Mary called up to see if I would like to play tennis again. I agreed and reached out my new tennis skirt. I looked in my underwear drawer. As my Aunt had said, there were several pairs of knickers. They weren't all the same, but they were all of the old- fashioned variety, with elasticated waist and leg-holes, some trimmed with lace and some with little frills. But they all had one thing in common. They were all pink. So my tennis outfit would not be co- ordinated. It would be all white except for my knickers. If anyone saw them there would be no doubt. The pink colour would confirm that it was my knickers they could see. I took off my dress, stockings and suspender- belt, and put on my white top, tennis skirt, white socks and shoes. It was easier to play in a skirt than in jeans. There was more freedom of movement and my legs didn't get so hot. Also I was slowly improving at maintaining a rally. At positioning myself on the court and getting into a good position to hit the ball. After a while I suddenly realised that Aunt Chloe and Helen were sitting on a bench behind me, watching us play. I hadn't seen them arrive. After we'd finished playing Helen walked back to the house with us. She playfully lifted the back of my skirt and stroked my bottom. "Pink, pink, to make the boys wink," she said with a giggle. Mary looked at her and added "or wank." Both the girls laughed. Over the next couple of weeks I got more confident in my new role. I entered more into the conversation. I noticed that the girls would often gently touch the arm of the girl they were talking to. A feminine gesture that I almost subconsciously acquired. It was only with girls of their acquaintance though. Or (in my case) boys with tits who wore skirts. I bought more dresses, skirts and tops. More nylons, More knickers. But always pink ones. I realised that my pink knickers were a sort of badge of honour. An acknowledgement that I was a sissy boy in a bra and skirt. They started to call me Didi instead of Dee. I liked that. And however many new clothes I bought there always seemed to be enough hanging space in the wardrobe, or space for knickers in the drawer. It was only much later that I realised that each time I put new female clothes in the wardrobe, some of my male clothes were later removed to maintain space on the rail. And by the time I was starting to think about going to college I found that I no longer had any male clothes at all. No trousers or jeans. And no male underwear. Only stockings and pink silky knickers. It was at this point that Aunt Chloe bought me another little present. "I know that these days you're not getting the swelling problem so often that used to lift up the front of your skirt on frequent occasions, but I think that it would be advisable to take extra precautions when you are at University. She handed me a package. I opened it to find that it was a chastity device. There were several rings of different sizes, but only one tiny tube that was obviously intended to contain my cock. There was a little padlock with two keys. "You need to find the right size ring that fits behind your testicles," she said. "The smallest one that is comfortable to wear. Then you put your penis into the little tube and lock the two parts together with the padlock. Obviously, the best time to put the device on is just after you have reduced any swelling that might have occurred." She picked up one of the keys and tested it in the padlock. It worked OK. She threaded a thin gold chain through the key and handed it me. "Wear this round your neck so you always know where the key is. I'll give the other key to Mary so that she can keep it safe for you just in case you lose yours. You don't need to keep the device on all the time, but I suggest you wear it whenever you are out in public. It won't stop you getting randy thoughts, but it will prevent you from getting an embarrassing erection. I realised that my girly state would continue. It wasn't only for the holidays. In fact, I realised that I had been trained in girly ways over the summer in preparation for attending college in skirts and dresses. I didn't know why. But I did realise that I now had more self-confidence and a more outgoing personality than when I had first arrived at Aunt Chloe's. Perhaps (I thought), having only had daughters, she knew how to raise girls. But then I remembered several little episodes which suggested that she knew very well what boys were like. And how they reacted to wearing feminine things. Were all boys like that, I wondered? Or just sissy boys like me?