As Joe struggled with the little buttons on his doll’s green dress, Jenny wandered off reckoning it would take him a few minutes to dress the doll. Barry next door was climbing one of the trees in his garden. Jenny proceeded to climb the tallest tree in her garden.
Joe eyed the excellent trees for climbing in his own garden but knew there was no chance he’d be allowed to climb in his yellow dress. Those frills over the shoulder would catch on everything and as for his snow-white tights … He rather grumpily sized up his doll in the green dress.
“How about that baby doll?” Jenny called from her tree. Joe looked in the box. There was indeed a doll in a fluffy pink dress. “What’s her name?” Joe sighed. “Penny”, he mumbled. He was about to bend over and pick it up when he remembered. He bent both his knees carefully, initially relieved that he was getting used to wearing a dress but then wincing at the thought of how long he was going to have to wear that range of sissy dresses in his wardrobe.
This continued for what seemed like a couple of hours. Joe dutifully named and dressed each doll in the box while the other children swung upside down from their trees or Barry kicked the ball about or Jenny skipped. They were only marginally less bored than we was. This new girl with the dolls being their only new diversion.
“Anything else in the box?” Jenny asked hopefully when he was down to the last doll. Joe picked up the skipping rope that was in the bottom of the box. “Oh great! I can teach you to skip!” Joe squirmed inwardly at the idea of skipping but then looked at the pile of dolls and dresses and decided anything must be better than that.
He held the rope in both hands while Jenny fetched hers. “It’s easy. It’s just a matter of practice.” She flipped the rope over herself a few times, stepping over it at the appropriate time with ease. Joe watched dubiously. He tried to swing the rope but with little confidence and it clipped the back of his head and tangled in his pigtails.
Jenny giggled. “You need to swing it harder.” She demonstrated again. Joe wasn’t sure he wanted to do this but she was insistent. The next time the rope went over his head but he mistimed his step and it flopped against his ankle.
He was concerned that the old rope had left a slight mark on his white tights and bent over to rub it. As he flicked a little dirt off, he realised that he was flashing his frilly panties to Barry again. He stood up quickly.
Eventually he was able to do a few swings of the rope as slowly as was possible and step over the rope. “Now you are getting it!” Jenny encouraged him. “You just need to speed up. That comes with practice.”
She went back to climbing as Joe practiced and was gradually able to keep going longer as longer and more quickly. He kept throwing a nervous eye at Barry concerned that his dress was flipping up as he jumped and flashing his panties. Barry was watching keenly alright and frequently had a smirk on his face but he had little else to look at and may well have just been amused at this teenage girl skipping in a frilly dress and pigtails. Either way Joe was mortified but what else was there to do? Go back to playing with the dolls?
By the end of the afternoon Joe was relieved to have gotten out of the house but the question was sinking in with him – how long was he going to have to dress and act like a girl in front of the neighbours?
The next day his mother selected a red check dress for him. The hem and sleeves had a thin lace trim but he was relieved that it came within an inch or two of his knees. She tied matching ribbons to the end of his pigtailed wig.
After breakfast his mother told him “there is actually a clothes section to the grocery store on main street which is accessible because the grocery shop has to stay open. I need you to get a couple of things there.” She held an envelope.
Joe looked distraught at the idea of going out in public in a dress and pigtails. “I thought you’d like the chance to get out”, his mother teased, looking down at his pretty dress and white tights. “We may have to stay here for weeks – possibly months.” Joe sighed heavily and took the envelope. “Give that to Mrs. Henderson behind the counter in the clothes section. The correct money is in their too.”
Then he had a thought. “Can’t I buy some trousers there?” His mother smiled patiently at him. “I’m not buying you a whole new wardrobe. And besides the neighbours think you are a girl now anyway. Are you going to let them know you are a boy who went out there in a pretty dress and pigtails and played with dolls and a skipping rope?” Joe winced.
He walked highly self-consciously to the main street. There were not many people around thanks to the lockdown but the grocery store was busy enough. He kept catching sideways glances from people who he reckoned were amused by his childish clothes. The breeze kept fluttering his dress but he tried not to clutch the skirt too anxiously and make it obvious that he was highly uncomfortable and unfamiliar with his female attire.
He found the clothes section. Mrs Henderson smiled down at his dress as she took the envelope. She read the note. “Ah yes. We have those over here.” She reached into the shelves behind her. “Six pack of rumba panties.” She took down a see-through pack with six pairs of panties in different pastel shades, each with four rows of frills across the bottom.
Joe felt sick. He thought she might not think they were for him. “Girls Large size”, she confirmed from the note and smiled at him. Joe cringed. “Aren’t they pretty?”, she commented. Joe forced a smile but couldn’t bring himself to utter anything. “Which colour will you wear first do you think?” Joe wanted to die.
Mrs Henderson consulted the note again. “And three pairs of lace patterned white tights.” Joe wanted to die. “There’s a large selection over here. Why don’t you pick your three favourites?” Joe looked at the dozen different designs of patterns on lacey white tights. “Again, the Large size should fit you”, she added helpfully. Joe pictured himself walking out in front of Barry and Jenny in lacey white tights with any of these floral patterns. He wanted to throw up.
He had no choice though but to quickly choose three pairs. The shop assistant handed him the pack of rumba panties and he clutched them along with his three packs of tights. “The self-service checkout is over there”, she added helpfully.
Pastel shades are relatively subtle but for Joe they might as well have been dayglo and he stood in the queue for the scanners. Ladies in the queue were glancing at the panties and tights and smiling, looking him up and down in his check dress and plain tights. They found that amusing enough.
He was relieved when he got to a machine. He held the pack of rumba panties to the scanner. “It gave a clunky beep.” They had failed to scan. An assistant came over immediately. Joe smiled apologetically as she took the pack of panties from him. It clunked again. She looked at the bar code, straightened the packaging and tried again. Joe looked nervously at the ladies waiting in the queue impatiently and watching everything that was going on.
The assistant sighed. “Mrs Henderson!” she called out. Joe’s jaw dropped. “How much is the six pack of rumba panties?” His cheeks must have been burning. “Girls Large!” Now everyone in the vicinity of the check-out was watching.
Mrs Henderson called out the price and the assistant punched it into the machine. Joe breathed a little more easily. “Do the three pairs of lacey white tights scan alright?” Mrs Henderson called back. Joe just looked at the floor.
The total was precisely ten pounds and he put the note into the machine. “If you need a plastic bag, they’re 5p”, the assistant added as she walked away. Joe instinctively felt for pockets but there were none in his dress. He looked nervously at the ladies watching from the queue. Had they noticed his faux pas? He didn’t even have the 5p. He cursed the plastic bag tax!
He had to walk home clutching the multi-coloured pack of frilly rumba panties and the three packs of lacey tights in his hands. He couldn’t make up his mind which to use to hide the others. He just tried to walk as quickly as he could as his dress fluttered disconcertingly in the rising breeze.
Topic: Lockdown (Read 28213 times)
