She taught him to walk small, girlish steps, with the hips and bottom, and his elbows close to his sides and his wrists either placed at an angle or limp. No more idly stomping about. It seemed no accident any more that his sister chose feminine clothing twice on the run. He was also taught to sit demurely, effeminately, as per instructions left. So he minced around the room, and sat like a girl over and over as his Mother watched, to his utter shame.
"Now next on the list, I'm going to teach you sewing."
"I don't need to sew. I don't want to!"
She shot him a withering glance. For the next couple of hours he learned to sew, embroider, knit. All stupid things no boy could ever accept. How could she dare make him do this? But he became proficient enough for a first go.
Next, he daintily tidied his sisters room, a chore he was spared yesterday, which he thought down to being her particular chore. But no, he was not afforded this luxury. He was getting used to housework, which made him resent it more. He also had to wash her clothing, even her underwear. No indignity was spared. At one point, he reflected. There he was, stood, in ultra feminine appearance, in an ultra feminine room, the boy in him was disappearing.
The list specified he had to alphabetise all her music and DVDs all the while listening to an album taken from a list. Various girl bands and more Disney soundtracks and films. He could puke.
His mother seemed to be enjoying him at work, constantly making sarcastic comments about his little pink Princess trunks and swatting his bottom playfully and giggling as she noticed his feminine gait, which he was, by the end of the morning, doing absent-mindedly because she had spanked him twice for forgetting.
After waiting on his Mother hand and foot during lunch time hours he was then sent upstairs to dust.
Whilst doing this he came across something he thought he had lost: His computer wire. Jackpot! She had hidden it under her old books. He knew how savvy she was, he would need a replacement. Making his excuses, he went into the spare room to look around, and found a similar one. It wouldn't fit his computer, but to the naked eye, you wouldn't tell. He swapped over and felt buoyant.
His enthusiasm was stepped up afterwards thinking of joining his friends in a clandestine game of football. He had become increasingly worried about meeting them in his current state or his sister somehow tricking him into exposing himself to them, but a quiet, midnight game of FIFA would probably not go noticed.
His mother noticed this enthusiasm, and smiled along. She was rather enjoying this new him. Truth be told, he was lazy, and sullen, and dull. This new side of him was cute, dainty, and sensitive. This was a better, more lovely Chris. Watching the girlish movements in the poor sissified boy made her determined not to let him get away from his sister before the punishment was done. She preferred him this way, by a lot, and once he got over the initial shock, she reasoned, so would he.
During the afternoon he seemed to be happier, maybe he was coming around to it too, she thought.