If hand washing his knickers the night before wasn’t humiliating enough, hand washing a nappy was. At least I’d only ejaculated in it, but that was a consolation on a quantum scale.
Although not ideal, Peter was thankful as his grandmother buttoned him in to his dress. At least it left only half his legs exposed, unlike his nightie. “Well lets have a look at you.” his granny said as she turned him around. “Perfect.” she said. “There’s nothing nicer than a nice dress.” she smiled. Her grandson responded with a disparaging frown. “Don’t look so sad.” she told him. “You’ll get used to it, and if you’re a good boy it’ll only be for the weekends and not all week too.” she smiled.
Peter did little between breakfast and lunch. It was drizzly so he stayed indoors. His mother arrived soon after one o’clock and wasted no time showing him the two photos granny had sent her the night before. “Don’t you look sweet?” she gushed.
“You’re not going to show them to anyone are you mum.” Peter asked nervously.
“Not unless I have to.” she replied as she put her phone away. “How did you get on with your nappy?” his mother asked in the same sort of tone she’d ask about his day at school or a visit to the cinema.
Peter felt deeply ashamed that she’d even asked. “It was horrible.”
“It wasn’t that bad Peter.” his grandmother interjected before telling his mother that he’d clearly had a ‘nice’ dream in it.
On the way home, his mother proudly announced that she had a surprise for him.
“It’s not another dress is it?” he dryly replied.
“Oh.” she frowned. “You’re too good at this game.”
“Did you make it?”
“Of course… but I need to fix the hem.” she replied.
Peter looked down at his knees and the dress that covered them. It was about this time yesterday his mother needed to ‘fix the hem’ on it. “Why do I have to wear dresses?” he asked.
“Because Mrs Hesketh said that petticoating is the best thing for you.” his mother replied.
“Mrs Hesketh the headmistress?”
“Yes.”
Peter thought for a moment… one minute he’s wearing a dress so his mother can fix the hem… the next minute he’s wearing it to visit his grandmother… and now the headmistress of his school is involved! “What’s petticoating?” he gulped.
His mother giggled slightly. “I think you know that answer to that Peter.”
Peter groaned a little. Of course he knows, in spite of the fact he’s never heard the phrase before. “But why?” he asked.
“To stop you from getting up to no good.” his mother replied. “It’s not just that bunch of reprobates you hang around with, your last school report left a lot to be desired too.”
“It wasn’t that bad?!” Peter exclaimed.
“It wasn’t good either.” his mother retorted. “And if it doesn’t improve, I’m more than willing to send you to school dressed as a girl too.”
“You can’t do that!” Peter retorted.
“According to Mrs Hesketh I can.” she replied. “But I’ll leave it up to you as to whether you do or not.”
“But…” Peter began, but stopped himself. He imagined what it would be like wearing the girl’s short pleated skirt… he visualised everyone pointing and laughing at him, calling him names and taunting him. He envisaged none of the boys wanting to be his friend any more, and coyly having to try and make friends with the girls instead.
After his extended silence, his mother asked. “You were saying?”
“Nothing.” Peter gulped. “Please don’t send me to school dressed as a girl.” he asked. “I’ll dress like one at home if you want, but not at school where everyone will see me.”
“Like I say, it’s up to you… as long as your grades improve and you steer clear of those reprobates you hang around with… and providing that you do as you’re told the rest of the time, you wont have to.” she replied. “But one foot out of line and it’ll be girl time all the time.” she added. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” he moaned.
