Easing the door shut, Sam breathed a sigh of relief, barely even glancing at his mattress with its missing bedsheets. Mom was washing them, like she had said. He had more important things on his mind.
His plan was simple. He would just put on pants and a shirt and then head back downstairs, not even acknowledging that he changed clothes. He nodded to himself. Maybe, just to be safe, he would change his underwear as well. That way, even if he was forced back into a dress, they would see that he changed his underwear and he would get some brownie points. The first step was getting the dress off.
Sammy tugged it over his head, but it got stuck around his neck. He yanked and nearly choked himself in his struggle. He would need to try something else.
“Oh, it’s still buttoned.” He reached to the back of his neck and unbuttoned it with only a minimal struggle. “There we go.” He pulled the dress off and breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, now to change.” In no time flat, he felt normal again, standing in front of the mirror in his normal boy clothes. “Hope this lasts.” He felt a gnawing in his stomach as he realized that Sarah would never let him get away with this. “Who cares about what Sarah says? She’s my little sister!”
“Sammy?” He heard his mom call. “Are you up there?”
“Coming, mom.” Sammy said, hurrying out of his room. He only wished he had thought to remove the bandaid before right now. At least it was covered by his shorts. He skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. Had he left the dress on his floor? He hurried back and put it in his hamper. He was not taking any chances.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Sarah asked accusingly the moment Sammy came downstairs. “Go back upstairs this instant!”
“No way” Sammy said. Sarah frowned.
“Sarah, leave your brother alone so he can eat his lunch.” Their mom called from the kitchen. “If he changed clothes, that's his choice.”
“Can I feed him again?” Sarah asked with a wicked grin as Sammy sat at the table. Sammy had a sneaking suspicion that she would try to dirty his shirt if she got to feed him.
“I don't think he needs any help with a sandwich.” Mom replied dryly. “Did you change your underwear?” Sammy stared at her in surprise before stammering a yes. “Do I need to check?”
“No, it just took me by surprise is all.” Sammy said. She nodded and set a sandwich in front of him. It was cut into quarters and the crusts were cut off, not that Sammy was too unhappy about that latter fact. He had never really liked bread crusts. The sandwich oozed peanut butter and grape jelly. “What's this?”
“Your lunch. You didn't tell me what you wanted, so” she set a glass of milk in front of him. “We went old school.” Sammy glanced over at Sarah, who seemed thrilled. Of course it was her idea. “Sarah, how about you go and do what we talked about while Sammy was upstairs?”
“What's that?” Mom smiled as Sarah practically skipped into the living room.
“Well, Sam,” she said slowly. “I'm getting a bit concerned about how much time you spend watching TV and playing on your tablet.”
“I've hardly touched them today!”
“This is more than just a one day thing, Sam.” She replied. “So, I'm having Sarah set up time limits. Once you exceed that amount of time, you won't be able to get access without a password, which only me and dad will have.”
“And Sarah? She's the one setting it up, after all.”
“I figure you'll be more comfortable asking me or dad for permission, so let's just say it's only us who have it.” Mom said with a smile. “If Sarah abuses it too much, she'll lose that privilege. Trust me.”
“How is that fair?”
“We’ll be watching very closely, Sammy.” Mom reassured him. “Now eat your lunch.” Sammy obeyed, quickly discovering that the sandwich had a lot of jelly on it, making it a messy endeavor. He leaned forward, keeping the sandwich over the plate, unsure of exactly what fate would befall him if any jelly got on his shirt. “Drink your milk, Sammy. You need it to grow up big and strong.” Sammy made a face. He had never really liked milk and now mom, or more likely Sarah, had poured a full glass in what had to be the biggest glass in the whole house. He reached out to grab it, nearly knocking it over. He quickly steadied it, realizing just how dangerously close he had come to spilling it. Sammy did not even want to think about what would happen if he had spilled. He shuddered.
Taking great care, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, grimacing as the milk touched his tongue. Yep, still don’t like milk, he thought.
“You’re not leaving the table until you finish your milk.” His mom said. He stared at her. Could she read his mind? She just smiled. “Just drink it quickly, but not so quickly you give yourself a headache.” He nodded and took another sip. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the second sip seemed even worse.
Sarah came back into the dining room, smiling as she saw Sammy trying to force down his milk.
“Everything’s all set for Sammy, mom.”
“You didn’t do anything mean, did you, Sarah?” Mom asked. Sarah gasped.
“Mom! Why would you accuse me of such a thing?”
“You know why, Sarah. You never miss a chance to torment your brother.” Sammy looked at his mom and sister, trying his best to make it look like he was not looking, nor that he was beaming at the fact that his mom seemed to be taking his side for once. He felt a warmth inside as he realized that he had made it much longer than he had expected in his normal clothes. Maybe he would never have to wear a dress again!
One glance at Sarah was all he needed to know that that was little more than wishful thinking. Given the chance, Sarah would probably take away every scrap of clothes he owned other than the dresses she had forced on him. He could not, would not wear a dress to school, but there were only a few days of school left before summer. Maybe he could ask Gavin’s mom if he could live with them.
“Focus on eating, Sam.” His mom said. “Your milk will be warm by the time you’re done.” Sam rolled his eyes and finished his sandwich before turning his attention to the milk. He grabbed the glass, took a deep breath, and tried to force it down as quickly as he could. The taste of milk, heavy on his tongue, made him stop and he set the glass down. It wobbled, but he steadied it. “Just drink a little bit more.” His mom coaxed. “If you get halfway, I’ll let you stop.” Sammy nodded and reached for the glass. He missed and knocked the glass, causing it to tip right onto him. He felt as if he was soaked! “Oh, no! Sammy!” His mom said, running into the kitchen and grabbing a dish towel. She wiped up the small puddle on the table and then moved to the floor before assessing him. “Your clothes are soaked.” She remarked, setting the sodden towel on the table and pulling Sammy’s shirt over his head.
Sammy tried to take over, but in no time flat, his mom had him stripped to his soccer ball briefs, which soon joined his shirt and pants on the floor. He blushed and covered himself as he realized he was buck naked in the middle of the dining room with both his mom and Sarah right there. How had three quarters of a glass of milk gotten him that wet? He had the worst luck in the world! Grabbing the dish towel, his mom got the few drops of milk that had somehow made it to his skin.
“Alright, scamper upstairs and get dressed. These clothes will go in the wash.” His mom said. “Sarah, stop gawking at your brother. You’ve seen him naked before.”
“Sorry, just funny seeing his little boy butt.” Sarah said with a giggle. “It’s smooth like a baby’s!”
“Sarah, enough. Sammy, go get dressed. I’m not running a nudist colony." With one hand over his crotch and the other trying to cover his bottom, Sammy dashed upstairs.
“Think he’ll put on a dress?” Mom asked. Sarah smirked. They both knew that there was not a chance. Sure enough, Sammy came downstairs a few minutes later dressed remarkably similarly to the outfit he had spilled on. Sarah looked a bit disappointed, but brightened up when she realized it was time to show Sammy the new settings she had put in place.
Topic: Boys Don't Wear Dresses (Read 70723 times)
