As Perry gets on with his study, his sister pops in and out of the kitchen and sneers at her thieving little brother. After her fourth visit, Perry sheepishly asks his mother, “Is Jemima still really mad at me?”
“Yes. But I think if you could at least tell her how sorry you are it might help.”
“I said sorry yesterday.”
“Well maybe you wasn’t convincing enough.” his mother replies. “Why don’t you give it a try now?”
“Now?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Perry puts down his pen and slowly stands up. He makes his way mournfully up the staircase and knocks quietly on the door which only yesterday, was his bedroom door.
“Who is it?” Jemima replies.
“Perry.”
“Come in.” she says, so he sheepishly pushes down the handle and opens the door. “Oh… I though it was Perry… my brother… you don’t look like my brother.. you look like my sister.”
He gulps before muttering another apology. “I came to say I’m sorry for er…. stealing your things.”
She looks him up and down. “Oh I’m sure you are Perry… but don’t you think Perry is a funny name for a girl?”
He shrugs, not knowing what to say or do.
“I guess on the upside I got your bedroom out of it… so thanks for that.” she says looking proudly around her new big bedroom. “And if you’re really sorry, you’ll help me decorate it this weekend.”
“OK.” he replies, looking around his former room and mourning the loss of all his things. “I hope Mother lets me decorate my room too.”
“Well don’t you think your new room is perfect for a sissy like you… I mean… you did want to dress like a girl didn’t you?”
“No… I was just…. seeing what it was like.”
“Well now you know… and as far as I can tell…. you’ll be dressing like a girl for the foreseeable future.”
Perry hung his head in shame. “Did Mother tell you how long I have to dress like this?”
Jemima shook her head. “No… but seeing as I decide what you wear every day and every night…” she smiled, “…you’ll be wearing the worst I’ve got… and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”
“I’m sorry Jemima, I really am.”
“You see Perry… I don’t mind if you want to wear girl’s clothes or even want to be a girl… but you could have asked instead of stealing.” she said. “I wouldn’t have told anybody… not even Mother!” she added.
“But I didn’t want to be a girl… I just wanted to see what it felt like… wearing dresses and things.” Perry said, “but yes, I should have asked… I was scared you’d tease me or tell Mother if did.”
“Well I understand that Perry…but it’s no excuse for stealing.”
“I know.” he moaned guiltily, before saying he’d better go back to his homework.
Just as he was leaving, Jemima said, “Oh and Perry… aren’t you going to say thank you for the school skirt I gave you?”
Perry looked down at his skirt and felt himself blush. He looked back at his sister, “Thanks Jen.”
“You took your time.” his mother said as he returned to the kitchen.
Of course he didn’t willingly go down stairs. Only after his mother came, finding him sulking on his bed in his blue baby-doll style nightie and long, slim hairless legs did he shamefully walk into the sitting room. Jemima almost fell of the sofa laughing before being pulled up by her mother for teasing. When Perry was told it was time for bed, it wasn’t soon enough. Under any other circumstance, he’d have protested a 9pm curfew, but having spent the longest 90 minutes of his life; wearing a short baby-doll nightie in front of his mother and sister, he was glad to be going to bed so early.
“you can turn off the landing light Perry…” his mother says, briefly halting his escape, “…but make sure you leave your door wide open.” she reminded him.
Perry flicked the landing light off as he entered his new bedroom. He cursed himself as he approached his pink ballerina bed. Dread flooded through him as he pulled back his duvet and climbed inside. He sank into the soft mattress and laid his head on the frilly pillow. Everything seemed softer than in his room, and even with his eyes closed, he could sense the encompassing pinkness. The nightie was short, the knickers frilly, his thigh was silky and smooth. He opened his eyes and looked up at the pink walls, a fairy castle on one wall and a Disney Princesses poster on the other. Over the dressing table hangs a cheap painting of a ballerina which he can just about make out on the half-light. The dressing table itself, even in relative darkness oozes femininity. He roll over to turn his back on it, and realises that this nightie needs rearranging with almost every movement. It’s like it was designed to ride up! But no matter how much he tried to hate it… it was just as thrilling as anything.
