Author Topic: The Weaker Sex (Read 76851 times)

DaraJaney · « **on:** April 09, 2007, 06:54:03 AM »

Gabriel and Laura were enjoying the first day of the holidays. Finally, the school uniforms could be put away for the summer. Laura was grateful that the school did not make girls wear skirts, which she hated, but she was none-the-less relieved to be out of those grey trousers and into jeans.

But their joy was disrupted before too long. “We’re going to visit Granny tomorrow”, their mother announced. Both of her children froze. Gabriel looked at Laura. He sighed at the thought of having to wear the jacket and tie that his mother insisted he put on for visits to Granny. His only consolation was the thought that his sister was going to be even more embarrassed.

Laura sat there thinking that surely her mother wouldn’t make her wear that pink dress her Granny bought for her years ago. She was fourteen now and that dress was embarrassing enough when she first wore it. Gabriel smirked at her and she sneered back at him.

Nothing more was said until the afternoon when her mother took out the pink satin dress. Gabriel grinned, looking forward to seeing his younger sister in the humiliating outfit. “Mum! You can’t possible make me wear that again”, Laura pleaded. Her mother didn’t entertain any protests. “I took a lot of trouble last year to let the dress out so that it still fit you. We can get another year out of it.”

Laura stamped her foot and winced. “You know the story”, her mother reminded her casually. “No pocket money and suspension of all privileges.” Laura sighed heavily. This was ridiculous.

Gabriel was chuckling to himself. “YOU can shut up for a start”, Laura growled. “It’s always nice to see you dressed like a proper girl”, he told her, looking sourly at her jeans.

“Girls don’t dress like that anymore”, Laura complained. “Well they SHOULD”, Gabriel insisted. “What are you on about?” she asked incredulously.

“It’s your place to look pretty”, Gabriel teased, “as the weaker sex.” His mother looked at him crossly but let them continue sparring. “Weaker sex?” Laura practically screeched. “That’s a joke coming from you!”

Gabriel was affronted. “What do you mean?” “You’re nothing but a wimp”, Laura scoffed. It was true that Gabriel no longer picked fights at school because he inevitably lost but he wasn’t going to take this from a girl a year younger than him.

The banter continued between the two of them until Laura challenged him to an arm wrestle. “Don’t be silly”, he blurted, insulted at the idea of having to arm wrestle his little sister. “Scared that you’ll lose!” she taunted him. “Don’t be daft.” He picked up his biker magazine and tried to ignore the challenge. His mother was interested in this and folded her arms on her chest while she watched them

“Yes, let’s have an arm wrestle”, Laura persisted, “and the loser has to wear the dress to Granny’s.” Her mother sniggered. “For goodness sake!” Gabriel threw his eyes up.

But Laura was warming to her idea. “You’re afraid to, aren’t you?” Gabriel shook his head and laughed. But she persisted. “Well, it’s hardly a fair bet”, he countered. “You have to wear the dress anyway. You’ve nothing to lose” “Alright”, Laura blurted and left the room. Gabriel gave his mother a puzzled look.

Laura returned a few moments later. She held up a pair of white patterned tights and a pair of ankle socks with pink frilly lace around the tops. She also had a pair of white gloves with stiff lace at the wrists. In her other hand was a pair of pink t-bar shoes. She hadn’t worn any of these items in years. “If I lose I’ll wear these”, she declared, “and I’ll tie my hair up in pink ribbons.”

Gabriel was interested now. He would love to see his sister humiliated in these clothes. And all he had to do was beat her in an arm wrestle. Then he remembered that she had become very good at hockey while he was not sporty at all. Could she actually beat him? He didn’t want to concede that it might be possible but he wished he could be more certain. It wasn’t worth the risk.

He laughed off the idea again. “You think you’re going to lose!” she declared and laughed out loud. “Go away”, he blurted out impatiently and his sister realised that she had hit a nerve.

“Just wait until I tell my friends that you were afraid to arm wrestle me! Just wait until I tell YOUR friends”, she scoffed. Gabriel didn’t like the idea of that at all. It friends teased him mercilessly whenever got a chance. He stood up and threw down his magazine. “Alright, shut up already.”

Laura was delighted at his acceptance of the challenge. This disturbed him a lot. She seemed to be confident of winning. He looked at the sissy clothes again. He knew that she would absolutely hate to have to wear them but she seemed unconcerned about that.

His mother intervened at this point. “OK. So if you lose you have to wear these”, she reminded Gabriel, holding up the tights in front of him. He looked at the dangling white legs of the tights and scoffed “that’s not going to happen.”

Laura was already sitting at the table rolling up her shirt sleeve eagerly. Gabriel sighed and tried his best to feign confidence that this was just a formality. He sat down opposite Laura and rolled up his sleeves impatiently.

They grasped hands. Laura was smiling confidently at him. She looked at the dress and grinned. Gabriel couldn’t help himself but glance nervously at the frilly dress and he suppressed a frown.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #1 on:** April 10, 2007, 05:47:06 AM »

“Go”, his mother shouted and now there was no going back. Gabriel pushed with all his might and was disturbed that he made no impact. Instead, Laura slowly bent his arm back. Her smile broadened as she continued to make progress. She could now picture her brother in the dress and tights. Once the thought of losing came into his head, the thought that he might actually have to wear that dress, he completely crumpled and his arm hit the table. He jumped up in shock as his sister held her hands over her head in triumph.

She jumped up and danced around the room. His mother held the dress up to him with a big smile on her face. “I wasn’t ready”, he protested lamely. They just laughed. “You’ll look lovely”, his mother mockingly reassured him.

For the rest of Saturday they teased him about how pretty he was going to look the next day. His mother taunted him by holding up strands of his long hair and telling him how gorgeous it would look curled. His sister was beside herself.

He didn’t sleep much that night. Surely they were not going to make him go through with this.

The next morning his mother and sister burst into his room early. They threw open the curtains, partially blinding him. His sister came straight for him with the dress as he stumbled out of the bed.

“Please Mum”, he begged as the two of them threw the dress over his head. “You know the story”, she told him firmly. “No pocket money or privileges if you don’t do what you’re told.” Laura sniggered.

His mother pushed his arms into the sleeves of the dress. Laura zipped him up quickly before he could put up any more resistance. His mother fluffed out the petticoats under the dress – his dress, as it was now. He looked in the mirror. He was taller than his sister and the dress was very short on him. He tried to push down the petticoats but they sprang back up into shape again. He had always wondered what made her dress stay in that shape. Laura was amused at his futile attempts to push his dress down.

His mother was rolling up the tights. He winced at the sight. His sister pushed him down on the bed and they put the tights over his two feet. He felt sick as they pulled the tights up his legs and over his briefs.

Then his sister shook out a pair of pink satin panties with three rows of lace across the bum. “No!” he blurted before Laura determinedly pulled the panties over his feet and up under his dress and over his tights. He looked at his mother hoping for a reprieve. “They go with the dress”, she reasoned. He stood up and looked in the mirror. At least the frilly panties were safely out of sight up under his dress, he figured.

Before he had any chance to protest further, they pulled the frilly socks on over the tights. Laura fluffed out the lace tops and stood up to take in the sight properly.

His mother took the pink shoes and pushed them onto his feet. He had always teased his sister about her big feet. It was coming back to haunt him now. His mother buckled the shoes.

They pulled him up off the bed and made him stand in front of the mirror. His mother handed him the white gloves and he reluctantly put them on. They were delighted with how he looked. They were highly amused by the sad look on his face. “Oh now, you look so pretty”, his mother teased. “Except, he still looks like a boy”, his sister noted.

Gabriel looked at his face and realised that she was right. He looked like a boy in a frilly pink dress. He would be mortified if anyone saw him like this. He would have to sit in the car on the two hour journey and he wondered what people would think if they looked in and saw him.

His mother held up a few strands of his hair again. “Well, if we do your hair like a girl’s then it won’t be so obvious that you are a boy.” Gabriel winced at the idea. But he was forced to accept that it might be considerably more humiliating if people could see his true gender.

His mother could see that he was considering it. “Will we do your hair like a girl?” He couldn’t believe that he was going to do this but he nodded his head.

He was propelled down to the kitchen where they made him sit in a chair with his back to the sink. His sister was in her element now. They pushed his head back over the sink, tucked towels around his neck and washed his hair.

He sat in the middle of the kitchen while they worked on him. He was frustrated that there was no mirror. They rubbed all sorts of foul-smelling lotions in his hair. Then they tugged and pulled as they worked on his hair with regular little yelps coming from him.

A couple of hours later they hauled him excitedly over to a mirror. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His hair was done up in sausage curls that were all tied up in pink ribbons. “Mum!” he protested much too late. They laughed delightedly at his reaction.

He was left standing disbelievingly in front of the mirror while they prepared themselves to leave. He looked at his frilly pink dress. He pulled at the hem and saw the lace-trimmed petticoat underneath. He dropped the hem again, not wishing to see anymore detail.

His eyes scanned down the length of his legs in the white tights. He looked sadly at the frilly lace on his socks and then at his pink shoes.

Suddenly he was pulled away from the mirror. His sister had some make-up powder and a brush. She dabbed at his face. He was taken aback but figured that it should make sure that nobody would suspect that he was a boy.

When she was finished she let him look in the mirror again. His cheeks were a rosy red. He looked down in embarrassment and picked at the lace on his gloves.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #2 on:** April 11, 2007, 04:59:53 PM »

Next thing he was propelled towards the front door. He wasn’t ready for this and tried desperately to dig his heels in. His mother opened the door and within seconds he was standing outside the house looking up and down the street nervously. He looked down at his dress and smoothed out his skirts self-consciously.

The door clicked shut and his heart sank with the realisation that there was no going back. With all the fuss, he had managed to avoid the thought that he was going to have to spend the whole day dressed like this.

His eyes started to tear up with the frustration and helplessness of his situation. He looked down ashamedly at the lace on his white gloves. His ringlets dangled either side of his face further reminding him of his ultra-sissy appearance.

The women strode towards the car and looked back amusedly at Gabriel who was rooted to the spot. Reluctantly he walked towards the car. He opened the back door and stood wondering how he was going to manage his petticoats and dress. His sister watched with interest to see how he would manage.

He gathered his petticoats and sat into the car. Laura laughed. “You’re a natural”, she teased as she sat in. His mother started the car and pulled away. Gabriel looked back at the house and watched sadly as he was driven away from his boy’s clothes.

Each time another car pulled up beside them at traffic lights, Gabriel tried to sit looking directly ahead, ignoring any looks he might be getting. But soon curiosity got the better of him and he tried glancing across. He was sorry that he did. He was getting all sorts of puzzled looks from the people in other cars. They were inevitably laughing by the time the cars pulled away again.

He realised that even if he was a fifteen year old girl, he looked ridiculous in the pink satin dress and ringlets. And the people in the other cars couldn’t even see his white tights, frilly ankle socks and pink shoes – never mind his matching frilly knickers that he was oh-so-conscious of, even though they were unseen under his dress.

When the car pulled in to the driveway of his Granny’s house, he braced himself for her reaction. Granny came out the door immediately. Laura jumped out of the car and eagerly awaited her brother’s first exhibition.

She was aware of her Granny’s disappointed look as she stared at her jeans. Then she looked curiously into the back of the car. Gabriel was frozen in the back seat. Laura opened the door for him helpfully.

Gabriel swung a leg out and stepped onto the gravel. His Granny saw the lace-trimmed ankle sock first and a curious look spread across her face. Gabriel stepped out and smoothed down his dress and petticoats at the back. He stared at the gravel before gradually raising his eyes to look at his astonished Granny. She looked uncertainly at Laura.

“Meet your new granddaughter … Gabrielle”, Laura announced proudly. Her Granny looked back again at the boy. She pointed at him with mouth agape. “Is that …?”

All three women were doubled over with laughter when his Granny finally twigged that it was really Gabriel. He stood there looking down at his dress, trying to rise above it all – in vain.

It was ages before his Granny recovered. She took his hand and led him into the house, still wheezing with amusement.

They went into the lounge and she motioned Gabriel to sit on an arm-chair. He sat down but had to stand again and smooth his petticoats under his bottom before sitting again, much to their amusement.

His mother explained what had happened while Laura looked at him amusedly and Gabriel tried desperately to look as dignified as possible in his frilly dress, white tights and lacey socks.

There was a tray with glasses and a jug of lemonade on the coffee table. Granny invited them to partake. Laura went over and poured four glasses. She took one and sat down. The two women took their glasses and they all looked at Gabriel. He would have preferred to stay where he was but eventually he stood, walked over and picked up the remaining glass.

“Oh, he’s wearing the matching panties”, his Granny blurted out from behind him. Gabriel straightened up suddenly and embarrassedly smoothed down his dress at the back. The women all laughed.

Gabriel sat there counting the minutes while the women talked. He looked up suddenly on hearing his Granny talk about the table she had reserved for lunch in the local hotel. He winced at his mother but she just smiled at the prospect of parading him in front of the locals.

When the others rose to go, Gabriel stayed rooted to his seat, desperate to avoid his public appearance. Eventually he stood and gave his mother a pleading look. He twisted one of his sausage curls in his fingers in an attempt to remind her why he was so reluctant to go out in public. His mother just smiled and walked towards the front door.

So Gabriel had to walk into the crowded dining room at the local hotel in his sissy pink dress with his pink-ribboned ringlets dancing around his head. There was a noticeable drop in the conversations as he wound his way between the tables.

They were led to a table in the centre of the room and Gabriel sat there for two hours trying to ignore the amused looks on the faces of the people at the neighbouring tables.

To his right, he found it impossible to ignore the withering look from an eight-year-old girl who clearly wouldn’t be seen dead in the dress he was wearing.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #3 on:** April 12, 2007, 05:15:20 PM »

He was so relieved to be back in his Granny’s house. But his mother suggested that they must take lots of photos of Gabriel in his pretty clothes. He protested like mad, concerned that these photos might be produced at any time in the future to mortify him.

But his mother insisted that he sit out in the sun on a garden bench. His sister fussed over his petticoats to get them just right. He didn’t realise it but she was ensuring that some of the lace-trim showed. He grew annoyed as she adjusted his ringlets but she slapped away any attempt by him to intervene.

They instructed him how to sit forward but with his knees pressed together and tilted to one side and his pink shoes pointed perfectly at just the right angle. He was instructed not to move an inch once they got him in the most daintily demure pose.

He felt sick as the camera clicked and his mother and sister stood there smiling at his appearance. That was it. He was photographed now. They would never let him forget this.

Inside he sat demurely in the armchair as tea and cakes were served. His mother took care to spread a napkin on his lap to protect his dress. He looked at the clock every few minutes wondering when his ordeal would end.

“Those sausage curls are adorable”, his Granny commented. Gabriel tried to ignore the comment. “How long will that perm last?” He looked up with concern and then looked at his mother. “It will probably only hold …”, his mother answered while looking at Gabriel somewhat guiltily, “for a couple of weeks.” Gabriel was horrified. She smiled sweetly at him. He looked at his sister who was laughing heartily.

“I think you might like to stay here with Granny for the two weeks”, his mother suggested. Gabriel looked from one to the other to see if they were joking. “That would be great!” his Granny reacted enthusiastically.

Gabriel just wanted to get home and out of the dress at the first opportunity. “Or you could come home – I’m sure that your friends will be delighted to see your sausage curls when they call over tomorrow.”

Gabriel checked on his curls at the edge of his vision. They looked as firm as they did this morning. He realised that they were not joking. He was stuck with this sissy hairstyle. His pals would find this hysterical.

His mother and sister stood to go. Gabriel sat dejectedly, realising that he was going to have to stay with his Granny for a couple of weeks.

As the others left the room his Granny turned towards him. “Come out and see your mother and sister off.” Gabriel sighed. He stood and smoothed down his petticoats.

Outside he stood in the driveway as his mother and sister got into the car. The breeze played with the lace trim of his petticoats. He clasped his white-gloved hands and rested them on his dress as his mother started the car.

The car pulled away leaving Gabriel standing there is his pink dress. He couldn’t believe the situation he was in. He looked down. He had to press down his petticoats to get another look at his lace-trimmed socks and his white tights. How had he ended up in this situation?

His Granny walked into the house and he followed, his petticoats rocking back and forth as he strode towards the house.

There was hardly a peep out of him all evening as he sat around dejectedly, wondering what the fortnight would hold for him. Would there be any trousers around that he could wear? He looked around the house at the flowery curtains, the lacey trimmings on all the furniture and he didn’t get his hopes up.

At bedtime his Granny showed him up to his mother’s old room. She had kept it just as it was when his mother was a girl. He looked around the room with sinking emotions. It was all decorated in pink and white. Half a dozen dolls were propped up on the lace-trimmed pillows on the bed.

His Granny opened a drawer and took out a nightdress. She laid the lemon garment out on the bed. Then she placed a pair of matching panties beside it. Gabriel stood rooted to the spot. “I’ll leave you to it”, his Granny said. “The bathroom is down the corridor. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

She left the room and Gabriel flopped down dejectedly on the side of the bed not caring how his petticoats creased beneath him. He unbuckled his shoes and pulled off the ankle socks. He pulled down his panties and then removed his tights. He draped the tights over the back of a chair and stared at them not quite believing that he had worn them all day – and in public.

He struggled to reach the zip on his dress but eventually was able to pull it down and step out of the dress. He looked at the nightdress on the bed. He didn’t want to put it on but realised that he needed to go to the bathroom. He pulled on the lemon nightie. It was very short and his boy’s briefs were clearly visible underneath. He peeled them off and pulled on the matching panties.

As he walked down the corridor towards the bathroom, he tugged at the hem of his nightie but it just wasn’t long enough to cover his panties. He was very self-conscious bending over to brush his teeth.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #4 on:** April 13, 2007, 02:39:56 PM »

He went back to his bedroom and looked around. Surely there would be something less embarrassing to wear in bed. He opened a drawer. There were nighties of various pastel shades but no pajamas and nothing any less effeminate than what he was wearing.

He opened another drawer. It was full of tights. He couldn’t help himself but hold up a couple of pairs and he discovered that some of them were individual stockings with lace-tops or fancy bows. He closed the drawer quickly, trying not to think of having to wear such things.

He tentatively opened another drawer. It was full of frilly panties and slips. He rummaged a little trying to find a plain pair of panties but all of them were frilly.

He decided not to open any more drawers. He looked at the wardrobe. He might be better off waiting until morning before looking at what he might have to wear tomorrow. But he was too curious. He stood in front of the wardrobe and took the door handles in both hands. Would there be any trousers in there?

He pulled open the doors. The wardrobe was tightly packed with brightly coloured dresses all of which seemed to be elaborately adorned with lace or netting. He closed the doors again and sighed.

His Granny burst in. He cringed as she saw him standing there in just his nightie and panties. “I nearly forgot”, she said. “We’ll have to tie up your curls for the night.” Gabriel looked frustratingly at the sausage curls in the mirror. He would much prefer not to do anything to preserve them but his Granny sat him down in front of the mirror, put a box of curlers on the dressing table and set to work. “Watch carefully”, she told him, “you’ll have to do this yourself every other night.” So Gabriel had to watch carefully as his sausage curls were wound tightly into his scalp.

Early the next morning his Granny stormed into the room and threw open the curtains. He stirred in the bed but was reluctant to get out. He tugged at the hem of his short nightie before his Granny pulled back the sheets.

She threw open the wardrobe. “Right, what do you want to wear dear?” She browsed through the dresses. He looked unenthusiastically at the selection. No trousers had magically appeared since last night.

He stood in front of the wardrobe still tugging on the hem of his nightie. “Do you have any trousers?” he asked tentatively. “Don’t be silly! You’d look silly in trousers with your hair in pretty ringlets.” Look silly? Just how silly did he look anyway?

She was insistent that he had to select his dress himself. He looked along the rack trying to find the least frilly, the least effeminate and, then he remembered, the least short. All of the skirts seemed to stick out at a great angle.

Eventually he picked a powder blue dress – this being the least sissy colour he could find. It had white piping but seemed to be mercifully free of lace trimmings. His Granny whipped it over to the bed and laid it out. He watched as she moved around the room selecting accessories for him. She took out a pair of panties that were white but had a powder-blue lace trim. She laid out a pair of white knee-high socks for him. They were better than tights, he thought. Then she pulled out a pair of black Mary Janes.

“Don’t forget your curls”, she reminded him. He looked crossly in the mirror at the tightly packed rollers in his hair. He sat in front of the mirror and unrolled each one. He was not pleased to find his sausage curls almost perfectly preserved.

When he was done with that and his full head of ringlets was restored his Granny produced two powder blue ribbons. “Now tie your ringlets up on either side with these.” Gabriel sighed and wondered did he really have to. “If you don’t tie them back, they will get in your way all day”, she explained to him. He took one of the ribbons reluctantly. It took several attempts but his Granny was determined that he needed to learn to do this for himself. Eventually he was able to tie them up with perfectly shaped bows.

He put on the dress, panties, socks and shoes. It was only when he looked in the mirror that he noticed the lace-trimmed single layer of petticoat peeping out from under his dress. He tried to adjust his dress but it became obvious that it was designed to show off the petticoat. His Granny instructed him to come down for breakfast and he took one last frustrated look in the mirror.

He went to close the wardrobe door. He looked ruefully at the line of pretty dresses. It was obvious now that he was going to have to wear nothing but dresses and skirts for two whole weeks! He pressed his knees together instinctively wishing he could wear trousers, even for a little while.

He went down the stairs. Usually he would race down or even slide down the banister if he was sure his mother would not see him. But now he was anxious to take his time so that his short dress would not billow out too much. He wondered what someone standing at the bottom of the stairs would see.

Suddenly his Granny appeared at the bottom and looked up. He stopped and tried to push his dress down. She smiled with great amusement. He wasn’t sure if she’d seen his panties or not – he must have looked pretty ridiculous either way.

As he rounded the foot of the stairs he stopped suddenly when confronted with an almost identically attired little girl. She even had the same ringlets but when he saw her ringlets dangle in unison with those out of the corner of his eyes, he realised that he was looking in a mirror. He was still so unused to his own new appearance.

He sat at a table while his Granny prepared breakfast. He felt so stupid sitting there is the dumb dress. Every time he moved his head a little, he felt the weight of his sausage curls dangling at the side of his head. His Granny pottered around the kitchen as if everything was perfectly normal.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #5 on:** April 14, 2007, 01:06:06 PM »

When they were finished breakfast, she told him to do the washing up. He walked towards the sink but she intercepted him, holding up a flowery apron. “We don’t want to get your pretty dress wet do we?”

Once that was done, Gabriel idled around the kitchen, already bored. His Granny told him to go up to his room and get some books or magazines to read. There were bookshelves in the corner and stacks of magazines on a table.

The books were all girly reads: Enid Blyton, “Little Women”, “Alice in Wonderland”. He looked at the magazines. Dozens and dozens of issues of “Bunty” and “Mandy”. He sighed heavily. His Granny called out to ask what was keeping him. He took a couple of books and magazines at random and went downstairs.

His Granny was sowing something and he sat down opposite and pretended to read the books. She looked over at him regularly and he realised that he had better look convincing so he turned pages at regular intervals.

“What’s that one about?” she asked after a while. He claimed that it hadn’t become clear yet but it was obvious he was going to have to actually read the damn thing.

After half-an-hour at the book, he was thoroughly bored so he put it down and picked up a magazine. Apart from the really sissy stories, there were tips on hair care and make-up. Normally he would scoff at such things but he was a little more curious than usual, given that his hair was now in ringlets and yesterday he’d worn a little blush.

Unfortunately, his Granny noticed his interest in those pages and dragged him upstairs where she sat him in front of his dressing table. She then fetched some spare items of make-up from her own room.

She taught him how to apply foundation and blush. He was sorry now that he had shown any interest but it passed the time anyway. His Granny produced pink nail polish and despite his protests, he was soon sitting there with his fingers spread out waiting for his painted nails to dry.

No sooner were his pink nails dry than she told him that they had to go into town to do some shopping. He begged to be allowed stay at home but she insisted that she needed help with the bags.

He stood in the driveway clutching his dress and petticoat against the fresh breeze while she reversed the car from the garage. When he opened the door she looked disapprovingly down at his knees. “Pull up your socks”, she ordered him crossly. He looked down and his white socks had slipped down no more than in inch below his knees. He didn’t see what the fuss was about but he bent down and pulled his socks up anyway.

As they walked around the supermarket aisles, Gabriel was very conscious of the peculiar looks he was getting. Women and girls in particularly smirked at his very childish appearance and he could hear tittering once they were out of sight. He just hoped that they didn’t realise that he was a boy.

His Granny took ages and he just wished she would hurry up. At one point, she looked disapprovingly down at his knees again. He sighed but bent over and pulled up his socks again. This was immediately followed by a burst of laughter behind him. He turned around and two ten-year-old boys were having a good snigger, having obviously been treated to a glimpse of his panties.

Once the bags were packed into the car, Gabriel reached anxiously for the passenger door. “No, we’ll have lunch here”, his Granny told him. He followed her frustratingly to a coffee shop. She selected the table in the front window.

The waitress could barely suppress her amusement at Gabriel’s appearance. “Why, what a pretty dress.” He suspected that she had somehow spotted that he was a boy but he wasn’t sure. He decided that he had better be careful to behave like a girl. He looked downwards shyly. “You don’t often see teenage girls wearing such pretty dresses anymore”, she persisted. “Oh Gabrielle here just loves her dresses and never wears anything else”, his Granny told her. Gabriel cringed but tried to maintain his shy smile.

He sat there while they waited for their meal, trying to ignore the double-takes from many passers-by. One girl stared quite rudely and returned with a couple of friends a few minutes later. Over his Granny’s shoulder he saw them mimic curtsies and play with their hair to mock his ringlets. He looked away.

He was almost relieved to get back to his girly books and magazines but it wasn’t long before he was bored again. He looked idly at his Granny sitting opposite. She was working on some embroidery. Unfortunately, she took his glance as a show of interest and insisted on demonstrating the art to him. Next thing he was sitting there threading a needle through fabric in the first of many embroidery lessons.

His Granny wanted to take a stroll in the park in the late afternoon and while he was reluctant to go out in public again, at least it would be a break from his girly books and embroidery.

At the duck pond a neighbour came over to them with her ten-year-old daughter. “Mrs. Grainger”, his Granny greeted her, “and Rachel”. Mrs Grainger looked expectantly at Gabriel with a polite smile clearly anxious to be introduced. His Granny duly obliged. Mother and daughter were clearly as amused by his appearance as every one else. He was almost becoming used to it.

“Rachel is having a birthday party tomorrow”, Mrs. Grainger told them. “Would Gabrielle like to come?” Gabriel was surprised by this. There was no way he wanted to go to a little girl’s birthday party. “Of course she would”, his Granny replied immediately.

Rachel was clearly delighted at the positive response. Gabriel suspected that he was being invited to be the entertainment as much as anything.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #6 on:** April 15, 2007, 05:24:51 PM »

The next day Gabriel pouted as his Granny fussed over his mother’s apricot party dress. She tied the sash tightly around his waist in a big bow at the back. “But girls don’t wear dresses like this to parties anymore”, he protested, holding out his skirts in disgust. “Of course they do”, she insisted, “people always dress up for parties.”

He was relieved that, although the dress had a huge skirt, it didn’t have any petticoats underneath to make it stand out. He turned from the mirror though to see his Granny holding a three-layer organza separate petticoat. She fluffed out each layer as best she could. She made Gabriel step into the petticoat and pulled it up under his dress.

Now his skirts were well puffed out and the petticoats made the dress look shorter much to his chagrin. Next thing his Granny was holding up a pair of white opaque tights. Gabriel cringed again. He tried to think of any excuse. “But Granny”, he whined, “it’s a very hot day – I’ll be all hot and sticky if I wear …”, he could hardly bring himself to even say the word, “… tights”, he finally muttered under his breath.

She looked out the window at the clear blue skies. She was thinking about it. “I suppose you are right”, she conceded. He was delighted at his tiny victory after days of one set back after another.

She rummaged in the drawer again and took out a pair of white stockings. Gabriel frowned again on seeing these. They looked much longer than the knee-socks he had been hoping for. Oh my gawd, he thought, to think that I’d actually be pleased to wear knee-socks!

As his Granny brought the stockings over to him he noticed that they were threaded at the top with cream ribbon. She handed him one stocking to put on. He hesitated, trying desperately to think of an excuse not to, but he’d probably used up all his luck getting out of having to wear the tights.

He pulled the stocking up his left leg, holding his dress and petticoats up with his elbows, and it reached right up to his thigh. “Now tie the ribbon in front with a bow to hold the stocking up”, his Granny instructed him. He did what he was told. Already he was getting quite good at making cute bows. He looked with dismay at the snow-white stocking tied up with the pretty cream bow before he lowered his petticoats again. He reckoned these were even worse than wearing tights. He even briefly considered asking if he could wear the tights after all.

His Granny handed him the second stocking and he had to repeat the procedure. She was delighted with the end result and made him stand there for a few seconds holding his petticoats up so she could admire his stockings tied up with ribbons.

He lowered his petticoats and turned towards the mirror. They covered his stocking tops alright. He pinched his dress with his forefingers and thumbs and raised his petticoats a tiny bit. He could see the ends of the ribbons and so dropped his petticoats again, sorry that he had looked.

His Granny also insisted on making him wear frilly ankle socks over the white stockings. He pleaded that he’d never seen a girl over eight wear such things but she just laughed it off.

She produced a pair of black t-bar shoes. These had a fairly high heel on them and he stumbled forward a little when he stood at first. She made him walk up and down a few times to practice. He already felt sore as his toes were pushed down into the front of the shoe. He was glad he didn’t have to wear these all the time.

His Granny watched him walk. “Those shoes make you take nice short dainty steps”, she commented. “You must wear them more often.” He sighed with frustration as his feet really began to hurt.

She sat him in front of the mirror again. She produced a curling tongs. He blurted a desperate “but Granny!” wanting to ask how his ringlets were supposed to disappear after two weeks if she kept renewing them. But she already had one sausage curl wrapped around the tongs and a painful tug stopped him short.

She re-set a number of his sausage curls and then handed him the tongs to do the rest. He couldn’t believe that he was going to have to tighten up his ringlets himself but it looked silly with some freshly pressed and others hanging loose. He wound a sausage curl around the tongs and sat there grumpily while it set.

Once his ringlets were done and tied up with apricot ribbons, she told him to powder and blush his cheeks. He dabbed a little blush on but she wasn’t satisfied. “You need a healthier look than that”, she insisted and took the brush from him. When she was finished his cheeks seemed to burn red.

She handed him lacey white gloves and then produced a little purse that matched his dress perfectly. She clicked it open and popped in the little present they had bought for Rachel. Then she put in a delicate lacey handkerchief and clicked it shut.

She made him stand up and admire himself in the mirror. He still tottered a little in the high heels. He looked at himself with dismay. He looked like the prettiest little eight-year-old girl he had ever seen - which would have been fine if he wasn’t a fifteen-year-old boy. He clutched his purse tightly, praying that his Granny would realise the humiliation she was about to put him through. He looked at her with what he reckoned was his most pleading look possible. She just smiled and walked to the door.

He walked down the stairs carefully, afraid of falling in the heels. At the foot of the stairs she told him she wasn’t quite ready herself. He stood there in front of the mirror, shifting from one painful foot to the other. He waggled the raised foot each time trying to relieve the pain induced by it being wedged into this unnatural angle.