Two or three years ago, I began a story about a boy who has to be flower girl at his eccentric aunt's wedding. Well, today, I finished it, so rather than make you all wait for parts to be published, I'll be publishing it here. Maybe a chapter/section every day or two? We'll see how it goes! Without further ado, here's part 1!
The panties could not have been any more the opposite of what he currently wore. His mom and sister honestly expected him to replace his black boxer briefs with a pair of pink panties with white lace frills around the waist and legs, and even a little white bow on the front. He kept fondling the bow absent-mindedly. They even felt different, despite being made of the same material as his underwear. They were softer in some way that he could not even understand. Why did he have to wear these? Mom had said the rest of his outfit, he did not dare say dress, would cover his underwear. Could he just not wear them? He sighed. The rest of his outfit was out there where his mom and sister waited, so he knew he had to do what he was told. A knock at the door roused him from his thoughts.
"You have two minutes" his mom called through the door. "If you're not out here, I'm coming in and dressing you." He sighed and stripped out of his clothes, quickly pulling on the camisole and panties, shivering slightly from the soft fabric against his skin. In his haste, he left his clothes on the bathroom floor, dashing out with a few seconds to spare. A few hours later, he would think back to that and wish he had been more careful with where he left his clothes.
Sarah gaped as she looked at her little brother in his cami and panties. Her dress was elegant and quietly mature, relatively plain compared to the nightmare that lay on the bed waiting for Jimmy. It was white with a lace bodice and a tulle skirt that seemed to explode out in all directions right below the pink sash. Jimmy could not be sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Sarah had never worn a dress anywhere near as feminine as this one.
"It's tea length." Sarah said with evident glee, eyeing him almost predatorily.
"Which just means it'll fall to about your mid shin, maybe your knee at the highest." His mom said. "Raise your arms, Jimmy." He complied shyly. His mom paused and studied his underarms. "Oh, good. You're still hairless there. I didn't think to check before." A million thoughts ran through Jimmy’s head as his mom slid the dress down over his slender frame. He had not been looking forward to wearing the itchy suit that he had expected to wear to the wedding, but this is not what he had meant when he wished he could get out of it somehow.
As the dress settled over his body, he could not believe how ridiculously poofy it was, spreading out like a cloud all around him. He could not see his feet when he looked down, only the dress.
“Do you remember when we used to play dress-up?” Sarah asked. “You’d always complain about the dresses I’d make you wear. Those were nothing compared to this!”
“I can’t believe this.” Jimmy muttered.
“Neither can I!” Sarah gushed. Jimmy glared at her, but gasped softly as his mom tied the sash around his waist, tying a big bow at the back. He felt a strange breeze on his back and looked over his shoulder to see.
“It’s lace in the back, so a lot of your back is exposed.” His mom explained. “It’s pretty.”
“I don’t wanna be pretty.” Jimmy grumbled. His mom nodded, but all three of them knew that there was no chance that Jimmy was getting out of the dress this close to the ceremony.
“I’ll do whatever I can to make this easy on you.” Mom said. Sarah, on the other hand, had other ideas. After all, this was an opportunity she might never have again, right?
“If you don’t want to be pretty, why is your dress so extravagant?” It was the most sissy word she could think of and the way her brother squirmed proved that it did what she wanted it to.
“It’s not my dress.” He said indignantly.
“You’re wearing it.” Sarah said as if she were a lawyer laying out her case. “Aunt Lisa picked you as her flower girl. Most importantly, everyone’s going to see you in it.” Jimmy’s face fell as he realized how right his sister was. “In fact, my friends might even see you in it.”
“They won’t recognize you, dear.” His mom reassured him.
“They will if I tell them!” Sarah retorted.
“You won’t tell them.” Her mom said firmly.
“I won’t tell them,” Sarah agreed diplomatically. “As long as Jimmy admits that this is his dress.”
“Mom!”
“Jimmy, just humor your sister.” She said. “After all, she’s right. Lisa did pick you as her flower girl.” She was not sure why Lisa had done so. Her frankly quirky younger sister had just said something about Jimmy’s Ganymedean beauty, whatever that meant. A more important question, perhaps, was what they would do with the dress after the wedding. Donate it to
charity, perhaps?
“It’s my dress.” Jimmy intoned sullenly.
“Because you’re?” Sarah gestured for him to finish the sentence.
“The flower girl.” The youth growled in a decidedly unfeminine monotone. Sarah clapped her hands in delight.
“Jimmy, come over here. We need to get your wig and make-up on.” He shuffled over, grimacing at how the petticoats of his dress rustled with every step he took. He sat on the edge of the bed in a rather unladylike fashion, but his mom and sister were too focused on the task at hand and the looming deadline to correct his posture. There was plenty of time for that once
he was ready for his debut as the flower girl.
Jimmy sat as still as a statue as his mom and sister gave him more attention than he thought he had ever received. Completely immersed in a world he knew nothing about, he simply did his best to do whatever they told him to. Before he knew it, he was completely made-up and he stood before the mirror gaping at the little girl staring back at him, the perfect o of her mouth framed by pink lipstick.
“See? He even fooled himself!” Sarah exclaimed. She reached into her bag for her phone, but her mother stopped her.
“There will be the official photos and that’s quite enough for our little flower girl.” She whispered. She just hoped that Jimmy could keep from crying from the embarrassment he must be feeling. She hugged him close, careful not to smear his make-up. “Trust me. Just stay quiet, bob a curtsey every now and again and no one will even know.”
“But what if they do?”
“I know this won’t help, but no one would ever dream that a boy would ever in a million years willingly go through all this.” Jimmy gulped and nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. “Your aunt will really appreciate this. Just remember that.” She brushed a tear from his cheek. “And if anyone we know asks, you're at camp, okay?” He nodded, grateful for that much at least. “Now then, Sarah, finish your own make-up while I'm teaching Jimmy how to curtsey properly.” Sarah sat down in front of the mirror while Jimmy joined his mom near the bathroom.
“Like this?” Jimmy did, trying his best.
“Not quite.” His mom reached over and touched his wig. “I hope this stays on.” In the name of practice, Jimmy had spent all day yesterday with the wig on, much to Sarah’s delight, the tight sausage curls bouncing as he walked around, completely at odds with his male clothes. Playing his usual video games had felt so strange with blonde curls falling into his face every now and again, to say nothing of his near heart attacks every time he went to the bathroom and saw himself in the mirror. Still, it was better than coming into town the night before just for the rehearsal, which would have required a second girl outfit.
“It’s so heavy.” Jimmy mumbled.
“I don’t want to hear you mention that to your aunt. She apparently went through a lot finding a wig that matched your particular blond.” Jimmy nodded meekly, sighing as his curls swayed. “Speaking of which, both of you listen up.” She looked from Jimmy to Sarah and back again. “This wig is very expensive, so I don’t want either of you to do anything to hurt it. No yanking it off of Jimmy’s head, no running your fingers through it all day.” She waited for them both to nod their understanding. “Alright. Now, here’s how to curtsey.”
“Why do I need to learn?”
“If you curtsey well enough, no one will notice that you don’t speak.” His mom explained gently.
After he had curtsied half a dozen times to her liking, he had to sit down on the bed again for his shoes. Unable to see his feet due to his voluminous skirt, he had no choice but to allow his mom to put his socks and shoes on him.
“It’s a good thing your feet are still so petite.” His mom said. “I can’t imagine your aunt having to find these shoes in a bigger size.” She held them up so he could see the black patent leather Mary Janes. At least the socks were just plain white, even if they had white lace around the ankles. Just like his panties, he thought glumly as he felt his mom slip his shoes on and buckle them tightly around his freshly socked feet. “I think we’re all set.”
The trip through the hotel was humiliating for Jimmy. Try as he might to look like a little girl, he felt like everyone who smiled sweetly at him knew his secret. They knew that he was a boy in the most ridiculous dress ever. Would it have been any reassurance to him if he knew that everyone just saw a sweet little girl having a bit of trouble with her voluminous skirt?
“The venue isn't too far away.” Mom said. “We can walk, don't you think?” Sarah readily agreed. Jimmy, too frightened that his voice will give him away, remained silent, but he tried to make it known nonverbally that he did not approve.
In his normal clothes, Jimmy might not have even noticed the gentle breeze, but as it played with his skirt, he was aware of even the softest breath of wind, his Mary Janes click-clacking on the sidewalk as they went along.
“Isn’t it fun being so pretty?” Sarah asked, grinning from ear to ear at her brother’s misfortune. “You’re easily the prettiest little girl.” She tittered as he blushed in a very satisfying fashion.
Topic: Twist and Shout (Read 7847 times)
