The Present, Parts 1-15

Part One

Panties.

Lace, pink panties. When Chris first opened the box, he thought the girly pink material was just some kind of stuffing for the actual gift, but it dawned on him pretty quickly what he was touching and looking at as he started shifting through the multiple pairs. “Amy, what the hell?” he asked, holding up one of the delicate pairs.

It was a ‘Christmas’ tradition that his family and the Scotts’ did nearly every year. Rather than send each other gifts in December, they waited until they were together a few weeks or a few months later to exchange gifts in person. Back when they were kids, he and his cousin Amy were close, and it was a fun tradition to look forward to. These days, he always dreaded it. 

Amy had turned into a little deviant over the years, but only Chris knew the truth about her. Their parents all thought she was a sweet girl, an innocent high school senior just starting to find her way in the world as a barely-adult looking ahead to college. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

Amy swore. Amy drank. Amy kissed a number of boys AND girls on the regular. Boys, because she enjoyed having them wrapped around her finger. Girls, for fun. Despite only seeing her once or twice a year, Chris knew all this about her because she didn’t try to hide it around him. When her girlfriends were over, and their parents weren’t, Chris was around for all the shameless gossip and bragging. And they didn’t even try to swear him to secrecy. Amy acted like such an angel around adults, no one would have believed him anyway.

Not even he was safe from the little games she enjoyed playing with boys. For the past two years, Amy had gotten him seemingly innocent gifts. Gifts that he hated, but that no one else would bat an eye at. A small collection of jewelry that was borderline girly, especially considering that he normally didn’t wear jewelry at all. And then a handful of socks and ties that had the same theme the next year—bright, girly colors. 

There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The jewelry was so he could “try new things,” and the clothes were “bold” compared to his “same old colors,” according to Amy when she eagerly explained her gift choice to him and their parents.

They were gifts. And it was rude to scoff or frown at gifts. So each year, he had to begrudgingly thank her, and then wear at least something Amy got him to show his appreciation during the visit, only for her to smirk and make a teasing comment about it when only he could hear. 

This year, however, there was no way she could get away with it. Not with something like this. He held up the pink fabric by his fingertips like it was disease-ridden, showing everyone that it was clearly a pair of panties. Not pink briefs. It was girl’s underwear. She couldn’t possibly explain the ‘gift’ away like the previous two years.

“Chris. Language,” his older sister immediately corrected him. The two of them were visiting the Scotts alone; their parents would be coming up in a few days after finishing up some business back home.

“Amy?” Aunt Mary glanced at her daughter. Not with suspicion or anything; just with a curious look about the unusual gift.

Amy was ready for it. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, clasping a hand over her mouth. The devious brunette looked at the underwear in Chris’s hand with false surprise, “Those were for Stacey! That means . . . Oh my God, I have to call her!” Leaping from her seat and grabbing her nearby phone, Amy fled from the room.

“She’s been going through some girl drama at school,” Aunt Mary explained. 

Chris didn’t know if that was the truth or not. It’s not like Amy lied about everything, despite her sociopathic tendencies, but he was genuinely curious how much she could even tell her parents when living two different lives. He tossed the pink underwear back into the box and closed the lid, placing it aside for now. For now, he’d take the win. His devil of a younger cousin wasn’t trying to claim his gift was so that he could ‘try new things.’

A few minutes later, Amy returned to the room with watery eyes. “Chris, I’m SO sorry.” She walked over and threw her arms around him in an awkward hug, leaning over while he was seated on the sofa. Then, with her lips right next to his ear, she whispered, “You ready?” Before he could process the somewhat seductive voice that was way more uncomfortable than sexy when coming from his cousin, she stood back up and turned to their parents. “I shouldn’t even open my gift,” she said, “It’s not fair that I get something and Chris doesn’t.” Amy went on to explain that Stacey was out of town, now with the wrong birthday gift; otherwise, Amy would drive over and make the swap right now. 

Chris knew what his cousin was subtly reaching for. But there’s absolutely no way that would happen. Right? Amy might play the innocent angel role well, but that didn’t mean things would get from A to B without better hints. 

Or so he thought.

“You know, Chris,” Amy’s mother said, “Some boys wear underwear like that.”

No. No way. Amy was a fucking adult, and he couldn’t believe her mother was still eating up her act and trying to protect her with lies of her own. Well, not technically lies. Sure, the modern day has all kinds of people out there, but Chris was literally a straight, white guy with pretty vanilla tastes. He wouldn’t be a sacrifice just to make his cousin feel better, especially when this was clearly her plan in the first place.

“No.” Getting ahead of it immediately, Chris dismissed his aunt’s subtle suggestion. “Amy did this on purpose. I’m not putting on-” he paused, not able to actually say the word out loud, “-those.” He gestured to the closed box.

Amy gasped. “I did not! Why would you say that??”

“Chris,” his mother said, “Apologize to your cousin.”

He knew better than to argue. Accusing her was a misstep in itself, as nothing like that would ever stick when it came to her. “I’m sorry, Amy,” he said.

“Apology accepted,” she replied, with a humble smile, “And it’s fine, Mom. They probably wouldn’t fit him anyway.”

Unfortunately, he was outnumbered three to one. While his older sister, Chloe, had already graduated college and was officially an adult with her own apartment and everything, that didn’t mean she would pass up an opportunity to mess with her nineteen year old brother. “Chris, you should at least try,” she said, in response to Amy’s last point, “If they fit, it’ll be a good opportunity to try something new. And I’m sure Amy would appreciate the gesture.”

“Really, it’s fine,” Amy said, playing the part perfectly, “You don’t have to, Chris.”

Except he did, since the one adult in the room was still determined to make her daughter feel better. So, just when Chris was hoping Amy had screwed her own plan over by committing to the angel role, Aunt Mary brought things home. “Chris, go try them on,” she said.

Part Two

Less than five minutes later, Chris found himself alone in the bathroom with the gift box. 

He had tried several more times to argue that this was absurd, but all of his words fell on deaf ears. Aunt Mary was using him as a scapegoat to make her daughter feel better, Chloe was jumping at the chance to embarrass her younger brother, and Amy clearly arranged this whole thing to begin with. It was three to one, and all of them supported each other with ‘logic’ about why Chris should do it. 

The best play would have been to refuse and storm off, but he felt too pressured once his aunt started pushing the idea too. Swearing out Chloe and Amy would have been easy, but the college boy wasn’t as comfortable snapping at an adult. 

Even with no one else around, he felt weird opening the box and sifting through its contents. It was one thing fooling around with a girl, as touching her underwear typically involved taking them off for a good time. Not to mention how nice a nice lingerie set looked on a pretty girl. But panties by themselves were different, especially when Chris was pretty sure that these had always been meant for him and not for Stacey.

He looked through the box, praying that there was at least a white pair to be found. While he hadn’t worn briefs in years, he would definitely prefer something that at least mildly appeared like boys’ underwear. No dice. The entire gift box was full of mostly pinks and reds, and a few purples too. “Great,” he muttered. Going with the least painful option, he procured a light pink pair from the girly collection. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than the darker shades available.

Stalling wasn’t going to help anything. For a minute or two, Chris had considered not changing at all. It was underwear, after all, so it’s not like anybody would know if he had actually followed through or not. But knowing Amy, she would be a brat and innocently ask to at least see the waistband or something. So, sucking it up, he stripped off his shorts and underwear and slid the panties up his legs. 

As expected, they fit perfectly. 

Well, as perfectly as girls’ underwear could fit a boy. They were definitely his size, and Amy could have easily acquired that information somehow. However, his hips weren’t that existent, and he had something between his legs that none of Amy’s friends would have. And, while his less than impressive manhood easily nestled into the lace underwear, the waistband sat awkwardly on his hips and the back of the panties slightly dug into his rear. 

Looking down at the horrible pink underwear, Chris couldn’t help but cringe and slightly blush at the sight. He was literally wearing panties. 

After fidgeting with the undergarment for a few seconds, mostly failing to make it feel particularly comfortable, he simply resigned himself to his fate. He had come this far, and seeing it through would cause less trouble than refusing to be a ‘good cousin.’ Getting in trouble with his aunt meant potentially getting in trouble with his parents when they picked him up in a few days. And, while Chris was in college and too old to worry about actually getting punished by relatives, he would still prefer to avoid the awkwardness.

One form of awkwardness, that is. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at his body in the mirror. Looking down at the pink underwear sitting on his waist was embarrassing enough. So, turning to the side, he put his shorts back on and tossed his boxers into the box. After taking a deep breath to compose himself, he opened the bathroom door and walked back to the living room.

Amy’s eyes lit up at his presence, and the small twitch of her lips made Chris immediately reconsider his decision. Was it too late to retreat to the bathroom?

“Took you long enough!” Chloe said. Chris’s sister hopped up from the sofa with a more apparent smile than Amy’s. “You know, panties aren’t that complicated. Though I guess choosing the perfect color can take time.”

The worst part was, she was right. Chris managed to play it cool, but he hated how Chloe knew him so well. It wasn’t the only reason he dawdled, of course, as a lot of it was simply mustering the will to change. But yes, figuring out which pair to put on added a little time too. “Look, can we just-”

“No, we can’t ‘just,’” Chloe interrupted him, “Now be a good boy and turn around.”

What? Why? 

Under normal circumstances, he might have caught on more quickly. But simply walking from the bathroom to the living room had already undone the adjustments Chris had made to his new underwear, and he was now the center of attention with the awkward gift box still in hand. However, that didn’t make him automatically compliant. “Why?” he asked.

“Ugh, Chris! Just do it. You’re setting a bad example for your little cousin.”

His ‘little cousin’ was eighteen, and barely a year younger than him. Chloe’s logic was ridiculous, yet he still found himself relenting just to get all this over with. “Fine.” With nowhere to set the box down, he reluctantly turned around with his hands still full.

The moment he was facing the opposite direction, Chris felt his older sister’s fingers slip underneath the waistband of his shorts. Fuck, she was going to give him a wedgie! It was too late to stop it. He and his friends had done immature stuff like that in early middle school, but he had forgotten things like wedgies existed until he felt the familiar lead-up to what was going to inevitably happen.

Chloe yanked upwards and Chris winced as the thin fabric suddenly dug between his cheeks. He wasn’t lifted to his toes, thankfully, as his sister wasn’t as aggressive as old friends were with wedgies, but it was still the usual combination of uncomfortable and slightly painful.

“Oh my God!” Chloe exclaimed,“You actually put them on?! Chris, we were kidding!”

Part Three

He had put panties on for nothing?

Chloe had to be messing with him. A few minutes ago, his sister had practically jumped at the unexpected opportunity, and Amy had clearly orchestrated the whole thing from the beginning. At least two of the three females in the room had wanted him to put them on, and it had been easy enough for them to manipulate the only real adult in the room to go along with it.

Uncomfortably shifting as his older sister gave another sharp tug on the pink underwear, Chris tried to turn away while simultaneously slapping at the hands behind him. “Chloe, let go,” he demanded. As calmly as possible, to avoid giving Amy even more of a show. It wasn’t very effective. As he was well aware from his younger days, it’s pretty difficult to stop a wedgie without causing yourself a little more pain in the process of getting away, or hitting the other person enough to make them back off. Unfortunately, kicking or elbowing his sister wouldn’t go over very well with an audience of family members. 

The good news was, Chloe wasn’t one of the guys. She was enjoying the visual of his new underwear more than the wedgie itself, and let up after another few seconds. “Relax, Chris,” she giggled. Letting go of the underwear, she stepped back with a playful smirk, “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“Screw you, Chloe.” While he wouldn’t hit her, that didn’t mean he was above talking back. Especially when she used a phrase like that. But, rather than dealing with an annoying older sister, he turned back towards the bathroom. 

Of course, neither of the girls would make it easy. “Where are you going?” Amy piped up, “I haven’t opened your present yet!”

“That’s right,” Chloe said, “You don’t want to miss her reaction. Come on, sit down!”

“In a minute,” Chris replied, “I’m going to change first.”

Amy sat up a little bit. “Change? Why?”

As if it wasn’t obvious. “What do you think?” he snarkily replied, not wanting to deal with the embarrassing specifics of a real answer.

“You’re saying you don’t like your present?” Amy said. She pouted, though the expression on her face was intentionally over the top. She was too old to actually pout, yet she still knew how to pull it off. “But it’s such a good color on you.”

Except it wasn’t even supposed to be a gift for him, according to his cousin a few minutes ago. She had obviously lied about the mix-up, which made it all the more annoying now that she was referring to the gift as his. And the follow-up ‘compliment’ wasn’t much better. Not only did he rarely wear pink, but it also didn’t matter if she thought it was a good color. It was underwear. Not meant to be seen, especially this variety. 

Just like before, the three of them had a bit of a back and forth about it. And, just like before, Chris was outnumbered. It would be quick and easy to change, but Amy and Chloe insisted that it made more sense to just wait until everyone was done with presents. This time around, Aunt Mary didn’t intervene. While the whole thing was a little amusing to her, it was better to let kids be kids, even if the other three were technically adults at this point; though being in college hardly counts. 

This time, it was Amy who delivered the final blow. She hopped up from the sofa and took Chris’s hand; the one not holding his bunched up boxers. “You can sit by me,” she sweetly said, as if that was enticing. “And then, if you still hate your panties in a few minutes, you can change while the rest of us clean up. Deal?”

“They’re not my panties,” Chris immediately shot back. Even so, he felt trapped again. Yanking his hand out of Amy’s would look bad, and his younger cousin was playing this in a way that made her seem the opposite of pushy. She was subtly trying to keep him in the girly undergarment for a little longer, but doing it in a way that seemed simple and harmless.

“When you wear something, it’s yours,” Amy giggled as she tugged him towards the couch, “Come on, Chrissy. Sit. I’m excited to see what you got me!”

. . . Chrissy?

She said it so nonchalantly and so off the cuff, he wasn’t sure if anyone else even recognized what she was doing. But Chris did. The flicker of mischief in her eyes was more than enough to give away that the nickname was meant to be feminine, rather than a teasing or patronizing version of his name. 

No one had ever called him that before, Amy included.

“Amy-” he began. Despite his distaste for what she just said, he reluctantly allowed her to pull both of them down onto the sofa. Unlike before, when they sat on opposite ends, now they were side by side and her hand was still holding his. To make things awkward for a moment longer, no doubt, or to keep him there until she was sure he would stay. 

Either way, he didn’t get much farther than her name before she was talking again. “Oh, and Chris? Thank you.” The faint smirk had faded into a more genuine looking smile. Or, more accurately, she was feigning innocence again. “For doing that for me. I feel a lot better now.”

“He probably pulls them off better than Stacey anyway,” Chloe teased, “Hey, Amy? Would you feel even better if Chris offered to wear them all day for you?”

Chris narrowed his eyes, but, in contrast, Amy’s lit up. 

“Oh my God, I would feel SO much better,” she said.

Part Four

The next few minutes were another blur of ‘logic.’

Not only was Chris outnumbered, but girls just had a way of explaining things and connecting points in a way that made it nearly impossible to undo layers stacked against him. He was already wearing panties, so there wasn’t a lot of harm in wearing them for a little while longer. And it clearly made Amy ‘feel better,’ so going along with it meant being a good cousin. Besides, boys shouldn’t be scared of wearing pink. And on, and on, and on.

To him, the same base problem hadn’t changed–the underwear was designed for girls, and he was a boy. End of story. But, despite trying to press the issue, he found himself caving pretty quickly. Apparently, he was agreeing to wear panties for the rest of the day. The only reason Chris didn’t argue even more was because he realized he could still get out of this by just sucking it up for a few minutes. Once they were done with gifts and everyone was doing their own thing, he could go change without telling anyone. While Amy and Chloe could pressure him to stay put at the moment, they definitely wouldn’t be able to make him change back once he was in his own underwear again. 

Thankfully, there was just one present for the cousins to open for the belated swap, and he had already opened his ‘wrong gift’ from Amy. The rest of the gifts were fairly normal. He had gotten Amy some lawn game Chloe told him that she wanted, and the two girls had similar tastes; spring accessories, mostly in the other girl’s favorite color. Despite the simplicity of what Chris had picked out for Amy, his cousin made a point to gush over it. Still laying it on thick, apparently, for her mother’s benefit. The innocent younger cousin, happy about Chris’s different kinds of generosity after being allegedly upset a few minutes ago.

The moment everyone had opened their gifts, Chris leaped at the first opportunity to get up. Aunt Mary had stood up to start working on dinner, and Chris used it as an excuse to leave the room as well. “I should probably get a little homework done before dinner,” he said. It wasn’t totally a lie. Even though it was a long weekend, there were still a few professors who assigned work anyway. He would potentially follow through on the excuse, and get a head start on an assignment, but the top priority was taking off the embarrassing pink lace underneath his casual mesh shorts. 

He half expected his sister or his cousin to call him out, but neither of them. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief as he turned the corner, he quickly made his way upstairs. Closing the bedroom door behind him, Chris made short work of pulling off his shorts and tossing them onto the bed for the moment. The girly underwear around his waist was even more pink than he remembered. No wonder Chloe was so amused when she gave him that wedgie.

Before he got the chance to grab a clean pair of underwear from his suitcase, however, Amy burst into the room without knocking. “Chrissy!” she exclaimed, “What are you doing?!” Despite the shock in her tone, she was smirking as she held up her camera to snap a picture. Three pictures, actually, as she had left the camera’s volume on to make an audible *CLICK* each time she snapped a shot. 

“Amy!!” Without anything nearby to cover with, all he could do was cover to the best of his ability with his hands. It probably wouldn’t do much to help, as she must have taken at least one good shot before his reflexes kicked in. “Get out!”

“Umm, no.” Pocketing her phone, she placed a hand on her hip, “Are you changing? You literally just said you’d wear your panties all day.”

“They’re not mine.”

“When you wear something, they’re yours. And you didn’t answer the question!”

“Amy, seriously. Get out. And delete that shit.”

“Mom? Chloe? Chrissy said he hated my gift,” Amy pouted. She dropped the sassy pose and put on her wide-eyed, innocent angel routine instead. It looked like she was about to cry. “He changed back and said he’d never wear such horrible underwear ever again.”

Chris was dumbfounded. 

He had seen Amy put on a little show here and there around the adults to score a treat or two, or to avoid chores, but he had never witnessed something this blatantly manipulative. The girl was a fucking actress, and he knew right then and there that no explanation or argument at his disposal that could convince the others that she was faking it. As usual, his younger cousin was going to get her way. 

“Fine,” Chris spat, rolling his eyes. Whatever he could do to make her think he actually didn’t care that much. And to get her out of his room when he was bottomless. “I won’t change. Happy?”

“I knew you liked them!” Amy giggled with the same amused smirk as before, letting her angel routine fade. She placed the hand back on her hip, looking up with a slightly more stern expression. “So. You’ll wear them all weekend?”

Christ just rolled his eyes again. Her games might work on everyone else, but not him. In fact, he was curious if he was the only one here who she showed her true colors to. Amy’s friends probably knew what she was really like, but none of her family members. “Yes,” he said, in a totally flat tone, not yet realizing she had shifted ‘all day’ to ‘all weekend.’

“Just ‘yes . . .?’”

“Seriously? Yes, I’ll keep wearing them.”

“Keep wearing what?”

Chris’s lips tightened at the knowing lilt in her voice. “Amy. Enough.”

“I want to hear you say it, Chrissy! Then I’ll leave you alone. Promise!” Amy gave a ‘genuine’ smile, holding up three fingers in a Girl Scout salute.

“Fine. I’ll wear panties all weekend,” he said.

Part Five

“You’ll wear your panties all weekend. They were a gift to you, remember? And like I just said–when you wear something, they’re yours.”

“I’ll wear my panties all weekend,” Chris echoed. He mirrored the emphasis in an attempt to show that it didn’t bother him, but couldn’t help but lightly blush at the possessive phrase nonetheless. It sounded worse out loud than it did in his head. And the fact that he was bottomless save for the pink, feminine underwear didn’t particularly help when it came to playing it cool.

“See, Chrissy?” Amy clasped her hands together with a big smile. “Was that so hard?”

“Chris.”

“Whatever.”

Amy abruptly turned and walked over to his suitcase, kneeling down to pilfer through it. When he asked what she was doing, she merely answered by retrieving a pair of his boxers and dangling it by her fingertips for him to see. Then she tossed it a few feet away. Since all his underwear had been packed in more or less the same area, it didn’t take long for her to do the same with the rest until there was a small pile sitting on the floor nearby.

Confiscating his boxers. Even if he could find a way to deal with the damning pictures she had taken, this would result in him having to choose between wearing panties and going commando. While there was probably some male underwear in the house despite how his uncle was currently on a work trip, Chris was shorter and thinner in comparison. Still, loose boxers would necessarily be the worst with jeans or something. Or, preferably, Chris could just WEAR HIS OWN UNDERWEAR.

What a concept.

And yet, he just stood there and watched as his younger cousin systematically removed every last pair from his suitcase. He knew arguing was pointless. Amy had a knack for twisting every word he said, and had proved as much downstairs. Could he just tackle her right then and there? That was probably the only way to get her phone away from her before she had a chance to save it to her computer or somewhere online, and his boxers would be as good as gone if he let her walk away with them. He could already imagine her playing dumb. ‘Are you sure you didn’t forget to pack them? Something like that. All while his underwear would be stashed away somewhere he’d never find in the unfamiliar house. 

But violence obviously wasn’t the answer. While Amy was a personal exception to him in terms of the ‘no hitting girls’ societal rule, she would just scream and get help from his aunt or sister before he had a chance to make any real progress. That, and he had more weak spots as a guy if she opted to fight back and fight dirty instead. Plus he didn’t know her password. Plus she could have the kind of system where every picture, note, etc. is automatically synced elsewhere. Too many variables, most of which worked against him. 

Instead, he did the only thing that he could think of that would at least somewhat work in his favor. Chris pulled on his shorts for starters, since standing around in panties wasn’t ideal. Then he took a few quiet pictures of Amy as she finished up with her hunt through his suitcase. Maybe that would be enough to prove that she was the one who took them if it came down to her word vs. his. 

“Done!” she exclaimed, “Ugh, boy underwear is so gross. You should really be thanking me for the upgrade.”

Unlikely. He didn’t dignify the comment with a response. 

Amy hopped back up with a smile, leaving everything as it was on the floor. She walked over to him and plucked the phone out of his hand with no warning. “Hey, Chrissy?” she asked. After carelessly throwing his smart phone into the nearby laundry hamper, she plopped down on his bed. “Julia and Sadie are coming over later today. You’re over that cute little crush of yours, right?”

“Amy!” Chris exclaimed. He couldn’t tell if he was more frustrated by the girly nickname, the phone, or the accusation. “It’s Chris,” he said, deciding he needed to address that one first.

The last time he saw Amy and her friends, he and Sadie found themselves alone in the kitchen at some point. Unbeknownst to him, Amy had instructed Sadie to act interested. So she had paid him special attention all day, with flirty touches and sideways glances. When they were talking in the kitchen, Sadie had placed a hand on his chest and giggled at something, he couldn’t remember what, and gazed up at him with those big blue eyes while leaning in a little bit. 

So he had leaned in as well, to kiss her. 

And the moment he did, she jumped back with a gasp and squealed “Chris!!” Just like that, she had darted away to tell the girls what he just tried to do, and they all teased him about it for the rest of the day. Amy had taken it a little farther, sending him a photo of Sadie every month or two; just some pic pulled from Facebook as a way to taunt him about the event from afar.

To his present comment, Amy just rolled her eyes. “When you wear girly underwear, you get a girly name. So. Chrissy. I think we should tell Julia and Sadie about your panties when they get here. Wouldn’t that be better than them finding out some other way?”

“No!” Chris exclaimed. Every time a new topic or obnoxious Amy action offered him a mental reprieve in terms of what he was wearing underneath his shorts, her words easily reminded him all over again. The mention of Julia and Sadie coming over had been bad enough when she mentioned the crush, but the idea of two cute girls thinking he wore panties was mortifying, even if they were girls he only saw once or twice a year.

“No?” Amy mused, giving him a teasing look, “Let’s start with this, then. What’s your name?”

Chris hesitated. He knew exactly what she was fishing for, but wouldn’t give it to her that easily. “If I say what you want, you promise not to tell them?”

“Tell them what?” she giggled, raising an eyebrow. This time, she let the question be rhetorical, rather than forcing him to say it again. “If you say what you know to be a more fitting name for you, we can talk about Julia and Sadie. Otherwise, I think we should just tell them right away and get it over with.”

“That’s-” He looked at her incredulously. That’s unfair. That’s illogical. That’s not what he ‘knew’ was a fitting name. Ugh, whatever. Her phone wasn’t out to record him, and no one else would hear it. “Fine. Chrissy.”

“The whole thing, dear cousin~”

“. . . My name is Chrissy.”

“I knew you’d come around!” Amy clasped her hands together in her familiar gesture, smiling wide as she met Chris’s eyes. “Okay, it’s decided. Your name is Chrissy. Now then,” she said, immediately moving on before he could protest the more official nature of her words, “Let’s talk. I think I have the perfect thing for you to do that will buy my silence.”

Part Six

Chris didn’t want to encourage Amy’s annoying enthusiasm with a response. If she was fishing for him to ask what she had in mind, it wasn’t going to happen. She could just say it without including him in the suspense.

Huffing a bit, Amy continued, “You’re going to shave your legs, Chrissy.”

The outlandish suggestion was enough for him to ignore the immediate use of the feminine name now that he had technically agreed to it. Under duress, but still. He had affirmed the gross extension of his name out loud. This latest idea, however, was way too much. “Fuck, no,” he replied, “I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?” she pouted, “Ugh, you’re never any fun! It’s literally winter, Chrissy. It’s not like anyone’s going to see.”

Right, except he was literally wearing shorts at the moment. While Chris did wear jeans more often than not in the colder season, places like his cousin’s house usually had enough heat going that dressing casually was preferable. “I said ‘no,’ Amy,” he responded. Trying to argue with her would just lead to her using twisted logic to dismiss his points. Chris had dealt with her enough over the years to know at least some of the traps to expect. Not that it necessarily prepared him for them, considering his current underwear situation and new nickname. “Think of something else.”

“You really won’t shave? It’s so easy! Besides, you’re a boy. That means it’ll grow back in less than a week.” Amy let out an exaggerated sigh. She strutted past him and flopped down backwards onto the nearby bed. “Whatever. Hmm, let’s think about what else you can do to keep me from telling anyone about your secret.”

Since Chris had never shaved anything but his face, he didn’t know what to make of Amy’s little white lie. He still didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of actually doing it, especially considering how much she had already coerced him into, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about looking like that for very long if he did. Of course, he didn’t know the truth of how long body hair actually took to grow back. Still, the explanation amidst her whining wasn’t enough to make him cave. He’d rather wait to hear the alternative first.

“Oh, I know!” she exclaimed, “You can wear one of my bras. We’re about the same size, and I bet I have some padding around somewhere for you to use.”

Definitely not. That idea was humiliating for a completely different reason. He might have been inclined to put something like that on if it could be as invisible as the panties were underneath his clothes, but stuffing the borrowed bra? No way. “Amy, come on. I’m not going to-”

“You’re not going to do anything fun!” she groaned. Sitting back up on the bed, Amy gave him a stern look. “Choose, Chrissy. Pretty bra, or pretty legs?”

Feeling a little more pressured from the sudden attitude pivot, Chris failed to consider the concept that he didn’t have to choose one or the other. However, Amy had set things up in a way where it felt like an either/or situation for him. Of the two options, there was a pretty clear winner thanks to how his cousin had presented each of them. “I’ll shave,” he reluctantly muttered. Suffering through jeans and sweatpants for a few days sounded better than letting Amy and her friends see him with curves on his chest. After all, the whole point of this was to hide the fact that he was wearing panties; putting on a bra would almost do the opposite.

“Good girl,” she giggled, “I knew you’d come around, Chrissy! Here, you can use my bathroom.” She quickly planted her feet on the ground and stood back up. Walking right back over, Amy took his arm and began tugging towards the upstairs hallway. “Trust me, mine’s better! The guest bath is so small.”

The ‘Chrissy’ thing was bad enough, but ‘good girl’ was almost worse. Not only was it patronizing and clearly a jab meant to go with the pink underwear he was stuck in, but Amy also said the phrase offhandedly and moved right past it. If Chris complained, she’d probably roll her eyes and say she was kidding, or teasing; something like that. So he sucked it up and let it go, the same way he let her have his arm instead of making a big deal about it and giving her any more ammo.

Amy didn’t hold on for very long. Once they were in the bathroom a couple doors down, she made short work of detaching herself and opening one of the lower drawers. She procured a fresh pink razor and set it on the counter, and was even kind enough to start running the water. “The whole leg, Chrissy!” she said, “And don’t take too long, okay? More than ten minutes, and we’re putting you in a bra anyway.” With a wink, she slipped out of the private bathroom and closed the door behind her.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that Chris realized how long it had been since he was alone. Amy had basically attached herself to him at the hip ever since he opened her present to him, and apparently only the privacy of a bathroom could separate him from his obnoxious, devious cousin.

Sighing to himself as he waited for the water to heat up, Chris cringed as he stripped. Taking off his shorts again revealed the image of himself wearing the girly underwear in the mirror. In a flash, he whisked off the lace undergarment, relieved to be temporarily liberated from both Amy and panties. But that relief didn’t last long, considering the task before him.

Taking the razor and the shaving cream, he pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shower. Jesus, where to start? The whole thing was absurd, but he needed to get to it. Less because of Amy’s parting words, and more because every second made the impending task more daunting. He hesitantly lathered up the left leg and began the arduous process of removing every inch of hair. He had to rinse the razor after almost every swipe due to how much hair was removed each time. It’s not that Chris was particularly hairy compared to the average high school boy, but it still took forever due to taking things from ‘never shaved’ to ‘fully shaved.’

Unfortunately, Chris figured out the weakness of Amy’s threat way too late. Despite the attempted kiss with Sadie, and the fact that he was stuck in panties all weekend, it was still his cousin and her friends. He saw them twice a year; three times at most. They weren’t even friends on social media. The much needed solitude and the hot steam cleared Chris’s head, and he realized that Amy could tell Anna and Sadie anything she wanted. It didn’t matter. While it would be embarrassing for them to learn about the feminine underwear Amy had tricked him into, he’d only have to deal with that for so long. They’d be out of sight and out of mind the moment he went back home.

Of course, Chris had already shaved one full leg before coming to the conclusion that letting Amy waste her blackmail was the better play. “Shit,” he muttered to himself.

Now he was committed. Half the job looked more ridiculous than seeing it through, so Chris got to work on the second leg.

Part Seven

Both legs, fully shaved.

He felt so stupid for letting Amy talk him into doing it. Also, he had been wearing shorts before the shower. Although he had jeans and sweatpants in his suitcase, that would require stepping out into the hallway first. Knowing Amy, she’d probably be making a show of texting out there or something in order to be there right when he emerged. No matter what, she was going to get the satisfaction of seeing that he actually followed through on the task. He briefly considered wrapping a towel around himself instead of getting dressed. The problem was, it was Amy he would be dealing with. Even though they were related, he was fairly sure she would try to rip the towel away anyway in the name of seeing his smooth legs.

It turned out that she was going to be a problem long before that. “Hey, Chrissy?” The second he turned off the water, she revealed her presence in the bathroom.

He froze. Dripping and totally naked, he was mildly worried she was about to yank the curtain back. Would she go that far for more blackmail? The image of him in just panties was bad enough. Plus there was the same thought he had before–they were cousins. Smug and shameless as she was, surely Amy wouldn’t want to see him like that, whether it worked to her advantage or not.

“What do you want?” he flatly asked. Giving her any kind of reaction would just encourage her, and demanding her to get out of the guest bedroom earlier didn’t work in the slightest.

“Just wanted to tell you something. Three things actually.”

“Get to the point, Amy.”

“So moody,” she sighed, “Almost like you’re a girl. Anyway, Chloe and my mom went out to run some errands. It’s just the two of us for a little while. Isn’t that exciting?”

Well, that explained how she could be so confident about the ambush. Though this was her bathroom, that didn’t mean that they had total privacy. A single door separated them from the upstairs hallway, and anyone on the other side would potentially be able to hear what Amy was saying and realize she wasn’t the angel she pretended to be. Now, for all he knew, that door could be wide open. It wouldn’t really make a difference. “And?” he asked. Same attitude as before, particularly when it came to the teasing girl comment. He wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.

“Did you make your legs pretty, Chrissy?” she asked.

He grimaced at the way she phrased it, and slightly blushed as well. Thankfully the curtain was there, so Amy couldn’t see how easily she could get to him. Of course, he was at an enormous disadvantage at the moment. “Yes,” he simply replied. She was going to find out one way or another. On the off chance that she was recording their conversation, however, he didn’t want to directly incriminate himself.

Despite the bluntness of his response, Amy giggled in response. “Proud of you, girl. The bad news is, you took longer than ten minutes. You know what that means, right?”

Was she serious?

It had been enough of a mistake to shave without thinking it through. On top of that, his cousin had offered him a choice, and he had technically picked one. Under duress, but still. There was no way she was suggesting that her little time limit actually held any water. “Amy, no. I’m not doing that.”

“Not doing what, Chrissy? You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

Letting his annoyance get the better of him, especially while he was stuck shivering post-shower instead of being able to grab a towel and get dressed, he snapped, “I’m not wearing a fucking bra.”

“So you do remember your promise!” she exclaimed, “Also, language. Good girls don’t swear.”

Leave it to a girl like Amy to twist something like that into a promise. Chris hadn’t even agreed, which was often how the immature types later claimed, ‘You promised.’ Scowling, he said, “I didn’t promise anything. And it’s not happening.”

Amy just giggled again. “Here,” she said. Extending her arm past the curtain with a small hand towel, she waited until he took it before going on, “While you work on drying yourself off, I’m going to work on this post. ‘Oh, my GOD. Just caught my cousin trying on my panties. What a weirdo!” Pausing for emphasis, she mused out loud, “Hmm, is ‘weirdo’ the right word? What about pervert, or freak? What do you think, Chrissy?”

Chris had barely taken the obnoxiously small towel before Amy nonchalantly launched into a daunting threat. With the whole Julia/Sadie thing, he had been successfully distracted from what else Amy could do with the pictures she had taken. How many friends and family members would see a post like that before he managed to untag himself? Even then, the latter side would still be able to see it on Amy’s page unless she deleted it herself. Chloe and Aunt Mary knew why he had put on panties, but they wouldn’t be enough to sort out the kind of damage Amy’s text would do to his reputation across the board.

“Amy, don’t,” he firmly said. Trying his best to sound assertive, which was quite a tall order. His cousin had found a way to leverage an embarrassing photo in a much heavier manner than before. Also, Chris was more easily flustered while naked and vulnerable. He didn’t even stop to think about how a post like that would go against Amy’s whole ‘innocent’ routine. “You said you would delete those.”

“Did I?” she asked, “You should work on your listening skills. All I said, Chrissy, was that I would leave you alone if you were a good girl. And so far, you’ve been failing miserably. So, last chance. What’s your name, and what are you going to be for me?”

He hesitated. It was a bad idea. He knew that without a doubt. And yet, at the same time, it didn’t feel like there was another way out. Somewhat stalling, but mostly trying to make sure his compliance wouldn’t be for nothing, he clarified, “Then you’ll delete the pictures?”

“Maybe,” Amy said, “You’re testing my patience, girl. What’s it going to be?”

Swallowing his pride, and praying she wasn’t recording audio or video, he reluctantly said, “My name is Chrissy, and I’m going to be a good girl.”

Amy huffed out a louder sigh than before. “It doesn’t count unless you use your girl voice, Chrissy. Try again.”

Wait, what? That was new, completely unexpected, and totally ridiculous. “But-”

“NOW, Chrissy. Or I post this for the world to see. Three . . . two . . . ”

“Wait!” Chris exclaimed. Flushing more than before, and having no idea how to actually execute what was being demanded of him, he shifted to a higher pitch and awkwardly forced out, “My name is Chrissy, and I’m going to be a good girl!”

Amy scoffed. “Well, that could use some work. But it’s a good start. Tell you what? I’m going to do a few chores. While I’m gone, you can shave the rest of your body and practice your voice for me. How does that sound?”

Chris was dumbfounded. This was not what he had signed up for. And it was way too much.

Apparently, Amy seemed to think otherwise. “I’ll be back soon, Chrissy. Hop to it, okay?”

Part Eight

Chris did not, in fact, hop right to it.

When the bathroom door clicked closed behind his cousin, he awkwardly stood behind the shower curtain and weighed his options. Doing what Amy asked would be insane. The sight of his smooth legs was bad enough, but shaving the rest of his body? Unless he exclusively wore long sleeves for a few days, his hairless arms would probably go noticed by someone. And when Amy had told him to shave the rest of his body . . . She hadn’t meant his private area as well, had she? That would be too much.

Then there was her nonchalant insistence about the ‘girl voice.’ Amy was clearly having a blast leaning into the whole feminine thing now that she had manipulated Chris into panties, and it was starting to look like he was going to have to put on a bra as well unless he could get her to back off about that. All just to keep her from posting a few humiliating pictures.

He was really tempted to call her bluff. If it was just an image of him wearing panties, it would be one thing. He could always explain it away as a dare or an embarrassing prank, and just ride out the teasing that he’d no doubt have to endure from his friends if they saw it. The problem was, Amy was talking about framing it as if she caught him in the act, rather than it being something she set up herself. Being publicly called out on social media for trying on panties would be awkward enough, and that was before the layer that made it so much worse–being busted for wearing his cousin’s underwear would look so fucked up.

Even if he tried to explain the truth to anyone, would they believe him? How Amy had ‘accidentally’ gotten him panties as a belated Christmas present, that he had somehow been talked into putting them on, and that she managed to then get a picture of him wearing nothing but those panties? Out of context, it sounded ridiculous and highly implausible. Because very few people knew that she was a manipulative brat and that she actually could orchestrate something like that. Between his version (as in, the truth) and what she said her post would say, he already knew which one people would assume was the real story.

Chris wasn’t stupid. He knew that no matter what he did, she would still have the simple yet effective blackmail and the potential to make such a post even if he went along with the tasks she had left him with. At the same time, however, he didn’t really have a choice. Playing her game was the only way to stall and maybe give him a chance to eventually neutralize the threat. Or hope that she was ultimately bluffing, considering that she could only have her fun at his expense while the pictures remained private. Either way, he knew what he had to do.

Sighing to himself, he hung the small towel up on the rack just outside the shower, then turned the water back on. Stepping to the side for a moment as the stream warmed back up, he got back under the water when it was a good temperature again and begrudgingly reached for the shaving cream all over again. His arms weren’t quite as time intensive as his legs had been, as there was less surface area in general as well as the fact that he could remain standing throughout the whole process. His armpits, however, were more difficult and tedious. There was less to shave, but those hairs were longer and the area wasn’t as flat as his limbs.

All the while, he tried a few different girl voices as well. Quietly shifting his tone up and down, making sure he was never loud enough to be heard through the door, he eventually found a range that felt natural-ish while also not sounding too awkward. While he had been tempted to go over the top with a girly-girl voice like when Amy had put him on the spot, he was worried that his exaggerated compliance might end up backfiring if she was more amused than annoyed at the shrill falsetto. Instead, he aimed to be as boring as possible. Maybe Amy would back off if her little ‘Chrissy’ game didn’t end up being as fun as she expected.

As for his crotch, he decided to leave that as it was. While she clearly enjoyed the prospect of implying his incestuous impulses to the world, he doubted she was interested in enforcing anything where his privates were involved. That, and he had literally just shaved everything else below his neck and was about to talk like a girl to Amy when she returned. He was doing plenty for her, all for the ‘reward’ of keeping the status quo in his life.

About ten seconds after he turned off the water again and started drying off with the painfully small towel, he heard a knock on the door. “All done, Chrissy?” Amy asked, letting herself in without waiting for a response. She was lucky he was still behind the shower curtain.

Now was the moment of truth. He could still bail on the altered voice and talk like himself. Except after shaving far more than he had initially bargained for, he didn’t want it to all be for nothing. Amy would definitely take any technicality she could pounce on. The only way to properly stall without making things worse for himself in the meantime was to do exactly what she had already asked of him. “Still drying off,” he said. The feminine voice came out just like he had practiced, although doing it for Amy obviously wasn’t the same as when he had been alone. Before she could even react, he felt the heat rising to his cheeks.

Absurd and humiliating as it was, it was the price he had decided to pay. In order to keep his dignity in public, he had to give up a decent amount of it in front of his cousin.

Rather than giggling or taunting him, she acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Pass me the towel when you’re finished with it,” she simply said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got something for you to wear.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. He also almost would have preferred for her to tease him about the voice, as it was actually more embarrassing for her to pretend like this was a normal situation. For the time being, he decided not to engage. Patting himself dry didn’t require speaking. Aside from not wanting to talk like a girl for the obvious reason, he also wouldn’t put it past Amy to record their conversation from the other side of the curtain.

There was no sense dragging out the process, however. He assumed that Amy was going to hand him panties to start with, which he would have to put on. Not just because she wanted him to, but also because the alternative would be staying naked. The hand towel was barely big enough to cover him where it counted the most, and he wasn’t about to step out of the shower buck naked aside from that. Not while Amy was just on the other side.

When Chris finished with the towel, he reluctantly handed it out to his cousin.

“Okay, Chrissy,” Amy said, “Let’s start with your bra.”

Part Nine

Before Chris could say anything, Amy reached past the shower curtain with a bra dangling from her hand. It was reminiscent of the panties he had been gifted and subsequently pressured to put on–pink and lace, without being sheer. If her words hadn’t been enough, the sight of the bra was quite telling in terms of how serious she was about the ten minute penalty.

He rejected the absurd idea right away. “Amy, I’m not-”

“CHRISSY.” Yanking the bra back through the curtain, she proceeded to chastise him, “You said you were going to be a good girl! If you can’t even get your voice right, I might as well post that thing right now and be done with you. What do you say, Chrissy? Is that what you want? Or do you want to apologize and try this again?”

Of course not. He wanted to have a mature conversation with his cousin about how over the top she was being, but it seemed like she wasn’t going to give him that opportunity. Blushing and swallowing his pride, Chris cleared his throat and shifted his voice back to the higher tone he had practiced in her absence before. “I’m sorry,” he awkwardly said.

“I’m sorry, Amy,” she insisted, “And remind me what your name is, and what you’re going to be?”

He knew exactly what she was pushing for. And, even worse, he knew that he had no choice but to say it. It was either that, or risk her following through on the persistent threat. “I’m sorry, Amy,” he echoed. Repeating her words verbatim was his subtle rebellion, as well as a way to demonstrate he was doing as he was told under duress, though the feminine voice very much undermined what would have been a lot more effective in his usual annoyed tone. “My name is Chrissy, and I’m going to be a good girl.”

“That’s better,” Amy said, “And do girls wear bras, Chrissy?”

“ . . . Yes.” Not really a fair yes/no question when they both knew exactly what it was leading to.

“That’s what I thought.” She extended her arm through the curtain a second time, holding up the bra in the same manner as before. “Here you go. Put it on, Chrissy, and stop wasting our time. Unless you like being naked around your cousin?”

Chris was dangerously close to denying that in his regular voice, but managed to catch himself. “Of course not,” he replied, snatching the bra from her hand.

“Then no more excuses, girl. When you’re done, I’ve got your matching panties right here.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. Obviously that’s what he was going to be stuck wearing below, as it’s what started this whole thing. For now, however, he had to deal with the bra. While he was familiar enough with removing the undergarment from girls, that didn’t directly translate to putting one on himself. It took him a few seconds to orient the pink cups and straps the right way; then he bit the bullet and pulled his arms through the straps and let the bra sit loosely on his shoulders and chest while he reached behind himself to find the two band halves.

The overall process wasn’t as slow or as painful as he expected, though he was sure the average girl would have been more efficient. When he hooked the bra in a way that didn’t feel too loose or too tight, he broke the lingering silence by informing Amy that he was done. In his girl voice, like he had been stuck doing ever since she got on his case about it.

Softly giggling to herself, or maybe using the hushed laughter as an embarrassing tactic, she said, “That’s one of my bras, by the way, although I bet it fits you perfectly. We’re basically the same size.”

Well, not quite. Chris had an inch or two on her. As for body type, however, it was true that they were both on the more slim side. At the same time, he didn’t have boobs, so ‘perfectly’ was a bit of a stretch.

When he didn’t reply, she huffed and stuck her arm through the curtain again, dangling a pair of panties from her fingertips. The pink underwear matched the hue of the bra he was now wearing. While he hadn’t taken a thorough look at the contents of the present she had ‘accidentally’ given him, Chris was skeptical about whether this had been one of them or not. More likely, it was one of Amy’s pairs that went with the bra, which made this all the more awkward. Putting on girls’ underwear was already a lot, and now there was the added factor of them being his cousin’s panties.

Still, he knew better than to argue. Putting aside the blackmail factor, there was also the fact that he was pretty much naked. The bra did nothing to hide his exposure below the waist, and he still wouldn’t put it past Amy to pull back the curtain if he took too long and/or wasn’t playing along like she wanted. He had also already put on panties once. As far as justifications went, that was rather flimsy, but at least he knew what he was in for on that front. Slipping one smooth leg at a time through the holes, being careful to keep his balance in the still somewhat slippery tub, Chris pulled the panties up and settled them on his waist.

“Okay,” he reluctantly said, implying the completion of the task in as few words as possible.

Naturally, Amy wasn’t going to make it that easy. “Your panties are on?” she asked, “Be a good girl and say the whole thing, Chrissy.”

The curtain was only one of his problems. Chris also had no idea whether or not she was recording all of this. With that in mind, he put extra care into masking his voice for the sake of deniability. “Yes!” he exclaimed, blush darkening at how he ended up sounding more girly than expected, “My panties are on.”

“Ooh, that’s the best you’ve sounded yet!” Amy said, “Keep that up, and you won’t have to worry about that picture for very long. Anything less, and I’ll have to come up with another penalty or two. Fair?”

Definitely not. By defending himself against one potential problem, he had totally screwed himself over in a different sense. However, wearing panties and a bra was almost as bad as being nude. As long as he was in such a vulnerable and humiliating position, arguing was out of the question. “Okay!” Chris reluctantly agreed, doing his best to match the tone from a few seconds ago.

“Excellent. Now then, Chrissy. Do you want to come out here and show me your pretty lingerie, or would you rather have something to wear?”

Hardly a question worth asking. “Something to wear,” he replied. There was no way in hell he was going to pull back the curtain looking like this. If anything, he was still worried about Amy doing just that from her side.

“What’s the magic word, girl?”

“Please . . .”

“That’s better! We’ll make a lady of you yet, cousin dearest. Here, try these on.” She held out a pair of jean shorts that were noticeably on the shorter side. Correctly guessing that he wouldn’t enjoy the thought of putting on something like that, Amy said, “Unless you’d prefer a skirt?”

That got him moving. Hesitantly taking the shorts from her hand, he said, “No, these are fine.”

Part Ten

Chris didn’t waste any time.

It was clear that the shorts he was given were a girl’s. However, just about anything was better than standing around in his cousin’s panties when Amy still had the option to yank open the shower curtain if she ever grew impatient. Putting aside the fact that he was in a pink bra/panties, Chris also wasn’t used to changing in the tub. Like most people, he would normally dry off and then do everything else in the main part of the bathroom. Of course, these circumstances were unique, and he carefully slipped one foot at a time into the jean shorts before Amy changed her mind and decided to pressure him to wear a skirt instead.

The shorts were fine until they reached his upper thighs. Then he had to do some pulling and wriggling to get them the rest of the way. Somehow forcing the denim up and onto his waist, he wrapped things up by sucking in his gut and doing the button and zipper. Chris was more or less as slender as Amy was, but he was used to wearing clothes that were a bit looser. The form fitting jean shorts were a first, and the only reason he didn’t immediately change his mind and take them off is due to the same logic as before. And though they covered the panties, his now smooth legs were still almost completely on display. “Okay . . .” he muttered, breaking the silence with his awkward feminine voice.

“You’re wearing them?” Amy asked. Her voice had the usual teasing lilt to it. “I wasn’t sure they would fit.”

Cursing himself for not considering a lie about how he couldn’t get them on due to the size, Chris quickly justified his stupidity with the fact that Amy probably would have just found him something equally feminine to wear as an alternative. “Yes,” he affirmed. In case she was actually asking.

“Fun!” Amy exclaimed, “Alright, come on out. I want to see how you look.”

“Wait-” Chris briefly slipped back into his actual voice, before correcting himself for the sake of keeping Amy happy while she held all the cards, “Wait. I need a shirt.”

“Don’t be silly! I get that you don’t want to be walking around in your panties, Chrissy, but girls see each other in their bras all the time. It’s really not a big deal. Plus we’re cousins, so that goes double for it not meaning anything.”

Chris wasn’t sure what to say to that. ‘But I’m not actually a girl.’ ‘But I don’t want you taking more damning pictures.’ ‘But we both know you’re enjoying this.’ Making him squirm, all while feigning the innocence she had perfected the art of. It was also tough saying anything in the feminine voice without immediately undermining himself.

Amy quickly capitalized on the silence, and ended up addressing one of those thoughts along the way. “Don’t be scared, Chrissy. I just want to make sure everything fits properly before we move on. And I’m not even holding my phone, by the way. Feel free to peek out first if you don’t believe me.”

That eliminated one theoretical issue, though simply letting Amy see him in a bra was just as bad as her catching him in panties earlier. Though again, he didn’t really have any other options. Either way, he was cornered. At least doing things on his own terms gave him some semblance of dignity.

Taking Amy’s offer, he stuck his head out just enough to see that Amy’s phone was indeed lying on the counter in a way that wouldn’t be capturing anything. Chris was tempted to make her remove it from the bathroom first, to avoid any shenanigans that involved speed snapping a picture or something, but her distance from the device was enough to put him slightly at ease.

He couldn’t hide behind the curtain forever. As obnoxious as Amy’s little smirk was in response to him cautiously checking out the room, he knew the only way out was through. With something between a grimace and a scowl, he left the shower and revealed himself to both his bratty cousin and to the mirror in front of him.

Amy couldn’t help herself. Her casually pursed lips quickly shifted into a huge grin as she took in the sight of Chris in her clothes. That, and a completely shaved body. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, “It’s too easy. Why didn’t I try this before now?!”

Meanwhile, Chris was taking his reflection in. The only thing that separated his body from that of a half dressed girl was the fact that his chest was flat aside from air in the cups of the bra he had on. It was quite the juxtaposition when he still looked like himself from the neck up. Of course, he wasn’t able to process for very long before Amy was teasing him. Risking his actual voice, as he really didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of him talking like a girl when standing there in a bra, he said, “Okay. You’ve had your fun. Now can I go change?”

“No.” Amy’s smile remained, but she placed a hand on her hip to convey a more bossy demeanor nonetheless. “And that’s strike one, Chrissy. You have a girly name, you’re wearing girls’ underwear, and your skin is totally smooth. That means you need to keep talking like a girl, at least until the end of your little makeover.”

Chris opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself when he wasn’t confident about what three strikes would entail. “Makeover?” he reluctantly asked.

“Mm hmm,” Amy nodded, “You do want me to delete everything, right? And give your not so cute boy underwear back?”

Obviously. “Yes.” He tried to say it as bluntly as possible in the alternative voice.

“In that case, say, ‘Please, Amy, turn me into a pretty girl.’ Then we can finish up your makeover, and then we can talk about the rest. Or would you rather talk about what I might do if I keep those photos instead?” Noticing his glance towards the counter, she said, “Oh, and I wouldn’t bother. Everything’s already backed up somewhere else. And you’ll get in even more trouble if my parents have to pay to replace such an expensive thing.” She paused to let that sink in, then asked, “Well?”

Chris felt as trapped as ever. In the back of his mind, he knew that it was a bad idea to go along with whatever Amy was suggesting, but he had also already resigned himself to pushing through instead of trying to put his foot down and risking the consequences. “Please give me a makeover, Amy,” he said. While awkward, it wasn’t quite as bad as the phrase she had suggested.

She rolled her eyes at the adjustment, but didn’t push for the exact words. “If that’s what you want, Chrissy.” With that, she stepped forward and took her phone with one hand and linked her other arm with Chris’s. “Let’s go to my room. We can do the rest in there. Better hurry, or the others will get back from their errands and see you like this!”

Definitely not an option. He would never hear the end of this from his sister.

So, without another word, he let Amy lead him out of the bathroom and down the hall for whatever else she had in mind.

Part Eleven

“How about a blouse, Chrissy?” Amy asked, “Your boobs are a bit smaller than mine, but we know that you can fit into my clothes for the most part.”

Chris wasn’t sure what he had expected. To him, ‘makeover’ implied that his cousin was going to put her make-up on him. He obviously hadn’t been enthused about that, but at least had been able to use the short walk to brace himself for it. However, he definitely hadn’t anticipated more girls’ clothes. In retrospect, maybe he should have, as why would Amy stop at the bra/jean shorts combo when he was stuck going along with her games?

As he stood there in nothing but her garments, he knew better than to outright reject her. Besides, a shirt would actually be better than walking around in nothing but a bra above his waist. He cleared his throat and took a moment to properly manipulate his vocal chords for the higher, girly voice. “What about a t-shirt?” he asked. Hopefully one that was more gender neutral, though he doubted Amy would let him get off that easily.

Amy deliberated for a moment, then said, “Let’s compromise. You can wear one of my tank tops. If you ask nicely.”

It was the definition of a compromise. Better than a blouse for sure, but girls’ tank tops were noticeably different from the kind that he wore. Then again, it wasn’t like he was trying to get away with looking normal, as the jean shorts were already a far cry from anything he or any guy he knew would wear. “Fine,” he muttered. This was all to get her to delete the small collection of blackmail on her phone, anyway. The sooner he finished getting dressed like a girl, the better. Belatedly processing that she wanted a bit more than begrudging agreement, he awkwardly added, “Can I please wear one?”

“We’ll have to work on those manners,” Amy said, “You may be dressing casually, Chrissy, but you’re still a lady. Alright, first things first. We’ll have to get your bra padded. No cousin of mine is totally flat!”

“Amy, hold on. You-”

“Chrissy!! Girl voice! Right now.”

“I- Amy, this is ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous. Surely a college girl like yourself should be able to use her real voice for more than five seconds. That’s strike two, by the way. Mess up again, and you can wear a pretty, pink dress. Or maybe that’s what you want. Are you messing up on purpose, because you know that means you’ll get to be even more of a girly girl?”

“N- No!” Chris exclaimed. “Of course not.” He was dangerously close to earning himself a third strike right then and there. As much as he had practiced the feminine voice in Amy’s absence, it didn’t mean he was used to using it exclusively. Moving forward, he would have to make a more conscious effort to not slip up. And then there was the way his cousin had so abruptly and harshly reprimanded him. He was used to her subtle smirks and sideways glances whenever she was sneakily antagonizing him around various family members; this was a completely new energy, no doubt due to the dynamic she had managed to set up for them. As long as Chris was under her thumb, there wasn’t much he could do aside from keeping up the voice and doing his best to nudge her away from stuff like the blouse idea.

Amy just raised an eyebrow, “So you’re saying you don’t want to be a pretty girl? Choose your next words carefully, Chrissy.”

It was such a simple yet effective trap. Immediately using his denial against him, when the smallest mistake would give her an excuse to claim a third strike. For the most part, Chris had been going with a ‘less is more’ strategy. Letting Amy have her fun at his expense, but trying to limit his own reactions and word count when speaking like a girl. Now that he was put on the spot, however, it felt like he needed to say something worthwhile in order to avoid putting on one of her dresses.

“I do want to be a pretty girl,” he said. Rather than trying to be creative, Chris just aimed to echo as many of Amy’s phrases as possible. Less authentic, but easier to get out. And yet, he still ended up blushing at saying such things while sounding like a girl. “Please pad my bra and let me borrow one of your tank tops?” It had felt like a lot, considering his actual gender and personality, though Amy didn’t look particularly impressed. Not sure what else to say, he decided to just ask. “What else . . . ?” At some level, he knew it was a bad idea to give her such an opening. At the same time, he was still trying to avoid the lingering threat.

Amy’s smirk verified that he should have just thought of something himself. “Let’s make it panties and bras all weekend, Chrissy. And you want me to do your nails and your make-up, right?” Pausing for a moment, she then tacked on, “Oh, and tell me what you want to wear if you can’t commit to your voice, girl.”

Chris just nodded. It was so overwhelming and so much in terms of quantity that he didn’t know how to nitpick or counter anything she was suggesting. Not without risking Amy finding a way to pile onto what she had already listed. So, against his better judgment, he just said, “Okay.”

Naturally, that wasn’t good enough for Amy. “I want to hear you say it, Chrissy!” she smiled, “All of it, including what you said before. Be a good girl and get it right. Because if you don’t . . . a dress will be the least of your concerns!” She said it like it was all in good fun, but her tone had the slightest trace of sternness to it as well.

Taking a deep breath, mostly since he needed a few seconds to engage his memory for the task demanded of him, Chris started by hesitantly repeating the part that he had already said once. “I want to be a pretty girl . . . with a padded bra, and tank top.” That alone was mortifying enough, and then he had to go through the rest. “Panties and bras. Nails and make-up.” How had it escalated so quickly from simply putting on a pair of girls’ underwear?

With a hand on her hip, lips pursed in a smile, Amy asked, “And if you can’t commit to your voice?”

“ . . . A dress.”

“You want to wear a dress. Say it!”

Blushing more deeply, he said, “I want to wear a dress.”

Amy made a show of pulling out her phone. Not being subtle at all about holding it up and pointing it at her cousin, she dictated, “My name is Chrissy. I want to wear a dress.”

Part Twelve

(Author’s Note: Moving forward, assume Chris is speaking in his feminine voice unless otherwise noted. I imagine the italics would get old really quickly if I did that for the whole story!)

Less than an hour ago, Chris would not have remotely entertained what his cousin was suggesting.

Thanks to how Amy had strung him along step by step, however, it was impossible to refuse this latest demand. No matter what he said or didn’t say, she had already captured the image of him wearing her shorts and bra. That was on top of the picture(s) she already had of him wearing panties. If he had known she was going to take things this far, he might have considered saying ‘no’ at the beginning. The blow to his reputation would have been painful, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with what ended up being so much more leverage than she had started with.

Now that he was in this deep, it felt more and more like the only way out of all this was by pushing through. He had already shaved his whole body, and Amy had made it pretty clear that she planned on dressing him up like a girl from head to toe. Once she was done with all the listed things, he would demand that she follow through on her end. In the back of his mind, he knew that going along with the feminine transformation was a bad idea, but he couldn’t think of any other solution while currently being put on the spot.

“My name is Chrissy,” he reluctantly said, committing to the higher tone, “I want to- wear a dress . . . ” It sounded even worse out of context, which is why he hesitated. Putting on a dress was supposed to be a penalty for if he couldn’t keep the voice up. Not something he actually wanted to do. Although that was true for literally everything Amy was pushing on him.

“Well, duh,” Amy giggled, “You may think you hide it well, but I’ve always known you’ve secretly wanted to be a girly girl. Don’t worry, Chrissy. I can make your wish come true! Now, sit.” She gestured to the chair by her desk.

Opting to ignore her completely off base reading of his hidden desires, Chris focused on the exterior matters at hand. “Can’t I-” he started, before clearing his throat to make sure the feminine voice was just right, “Umm, a tank top?” There was no good way to say it.

With a small smile, Amy clarified what he actually wanted. “What, you don’t want to sit around in just your bra? Chrissy, this is what girls do. We’re a lot more comfortable around each other than dumb boys. Besides, your padding hasn’t arrived yet, so you’ll just have to be patient.”

What did that mean? “Amy-”

“This is just going to take longer if you complain the whole time,” Amy pointed out, “Come on, have a seat. I need to get started on your nails.”

Chris had so much more that he wanted to say, though none of it would come across particularly seriously when he looked and sounded like he did. So he sat down. His cousin’s words were a reminder of his own justification, anyway. The sooner she was done having her fun, the sooner he could tell her to delete everything. Better to embarrass himself in front of his brat of a cousin than across his various social media platforms.

Still smiling, Amy said, “Wait right there, Chrissy. I’ll be right back.”

He was tempted to pilfer through her desk drawers on the off chance there was some dirt he could use to counter what she had on him, but Amy didn’t go very far. She started by turning on her bluetooth speaker in the corner and putting on some pop music in the background. It was some girl band that Chris may or may not have heard before; he couldn’t tell if Amy was playing what she liked or leaning into the ‘girl bonding’ thing.

She returned a minute later with a handful of things she haphazardly placed on the desk. A make-up kit, a pink hairband, and a vial of nail polish. “Bubblegum pink will be so cute on a girl like you,” Amy said. She took Chris’s hand and lifted it up to inspect. “Not terrible, I guess. Could use a bit of filing, but we already have so much to do. How about this? We can skip that step. IF you ask me nicely to paint your nails.”

She wasn’t recording this time, which made Chris more willing to suck it up and say what she wanted. Plus it was nearly as bad as echoing the false name and his interest in wearing a dress. “Please paint my nails, Amy?” he asked. Even in the female voice, it came across a little begrudging.

Amy just sighed. “We’ll have to work on that attitude, Chrissy. Try it with a smile this time. Bonus points if you can make it demure.”

Demure . . . ? Unlikely. Still, he forced the best smile he could manage under the mortifying conditions. “Paint my nails, Amy? Pretty please?”

“Better, I guess,” she scoffed, “Okay, hold still.”

Chris did his best to do just that, though he couldn’t help but fidget in the unfamiliar chair as Amy positioned herself for the job. She was leaning back against the desk, automatically taller than him due to being the only one standing. The two of them also weren’t touchy in the slightest as cousins. At most, they’d do an awkward side hug for the sake of acting happy to see each other when parents were watching. Now Chris had to deal with Amy more or less holding his hand as she got started on the first nail.

Rather than further taunting, Amy simply hummed to the music as she worked. One by one, she carefully painted each of Chris’s nails light pink. When she was done with the hand, she held it up to her lips and gently blew on his fingertips. After succeeding in making him feel even more uncomfortable than before, she placed his hand down on her thigh and told him to not move an inch.

There was nothing flirty or sexual in the slightest when it came to her approach. It was just a lot of gestures and contact that were completely opposite to their normal dynamic and proximity. At the same time, she clearly knew what she was doing with her latest move. Idly smirking at his hand’s presence on her bare leg, Amy began working on his second hand.

“Let’s do a second coat, just in case,” she said, “You do want your nails nice and pink, right?”

Chris just gave a small nod, until Amy told him to speak up. “Yes. Nice and pink . . . ”

“Good girl,” she replied.

Then she went through the entire process again, while Chris figured out after a couple songs that they were only listening to girl bands. Never quite getting comfortable with his palm resting on Amy’s thigh or the face to face position they were in, he mostly averted his gaze and impatiently waited for her to finish the job.

After what felt like forever, she signaled that she was done by guiding his second hand to her leg. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Amy asked, “Now, hold still for another minute or two. In the meantime, do you want me to do your make-up? If so, you know how to ask!”

He did, indeed. Once again forcing the awkward smile, he also willed himself to meet her amused gaze as he looked up at her and said, “Will you please do my make-up, Amy?”

“Of course, Chrissy. Your voice is getting better, by the way. Keep it up, and you might just be rewarded. Now then . . . ” She picked up the hairband off to her side, “Your hair is so boy-ish. I’m still not sure what to do about that. But this will work for now.” Not bothering to tease what was coming, Amy simply leaned forward and used the pink accessory to push his hair back. Adjusting it into place once it was settled behind his ears, she said, “Perfect. Well, not perfect, but good enough. And totally out of the way. Just have to grab my brushes!”

She opened her make-up kit and spent a minute or two contorted sideways as she pulled out a small collection of things. Her partially-seated spot on the desk probably wasn’t ideal for the coming task, but she seemed committed to standing over her cousin as she worked.

Meanwhile, Chris had shifted his attention to his hands. He had never worn nail polish before, and now they were thoroughly coated in a pink that was quite similar to the bra he was wearing.

And there was still plenty more to come.

Part Thirteen

Sitting there and allowing Amy to move a brush towards his face was already a lot, and Chris had to resist the urge to flinch when the tool came into contact with his cheek. He had already resigned himself to going along with this; the last thing he needed was to give his cousin the satisfaction of enjoying his awkwardness and discomfort along the way. Even if they both knew that this was awkward and uncomfortable, and was going to continue to be as she smugly made him look more and more like a girl.

The additional issue was that Amy was wearing a tank top. It hadn’t really been a problem up until now. However, as she bent forward to apply make-up to his face, Chris had to deal with a perpetual eyeful of her cleavage. He averted his gaze the moment she partially flashed her bra to him, as he was very much not into his cousin like that. Also, so much of her leverage was regarding him being a weirdo/pervert/freak who was interested in her panties; if she caught him glancing down her loose tank top, it would only add fuel to the fire.

Of course, he was nervous that constantly looking away might potentially give her the opportunity to call him out anyway. Regardless, it was a better call than staring at her chest. Twenty seconds later, he thought of a better idea. Or, more accurately, it was provoked. As Amy’s brush moved towards his eye, Chris instinctively closed them for a moment. Which made him realize a majority of what she would be doing was going to be on the upper half of his face. So he merely kept them closed; it wasn’t as if seeing was going to help his situation or do anything to affect Amy’s process. Chris knew very little about make-up, plus Amy was blocking the small mirror she had set placed on the edge of the desk.

Amy didn’t comment on his decision. She merely hummed along with the music here and there while continuing to work. When she finished up with the first brush and swapped to whatever she planned on using next, she said, “Consider yourself lucky, girl. We basically have the same skin tone. And, since I already know how to do my face . . . ” She rubbed his cheek with something, letting her actions finish the thought. A couple minutes later, she gently gripped his chin, “Now, hold still and keep your eyes closed. If you make me mess up, I’ll have to start all over.”

Chris didn’t know whether she meant that regarding his eyes or the entire process; either way, he didn’t want to find out. He was still hoping that getting through all this as quickly as possible was the best way to bring her game to a close.

As much as she seemed to enjoy being in charge, Amy wasn’t flaunting her authority or going out of her way to make the make-up process more difficult than it needed to be. Her brush strokes were delicate as she worked on her cousin’s eyelids. Pink eye shadow that wasn’t too loud, thick winged eyeliner as far as she could go while his eyes were still closed. And, finally, “Open, Chrissy. So I can do the rest.”

He hesitantly did as he was told, his eyes opening and fluttering a bit from the unfamiliar sensation of having make-up on. Still averting his gaze, which ended up being an easier than expected task when she told him to look up and hold there until she was done, it didn’t take long for him to find that maintaining the upward gaze without blinking was difficult in a different way when she was so close to his eyes with the little brush. Then, to round things out, she pulled out a tube of lipstick, commenting while running it over his lips that it was kind of like they were kissing.

Once again, the perfect way to make her cousin uncomfortable. She wasn’t into all that, yet it was still a perfect tease when called for.

The make-up process from beginning to end only took five or ten minutes, though it felt like much longer to Chris. Eventually, Amy pulled the final brush back and set it down off to her side. Then dusting her hands off for dramatic effect, she stepped aside with a smile. “All done, Chrissy! What do you think?”

The bathroom mirror would have been better to take in the finished product. Instead, he only had a small circle on a stand to check his reflection. After leaning forward and pulling the light purple thing a bit closer, Chris parted his lips in surprise. He had been expecting an over-exaggerated image, for Amy to lean hard into making his face look as girly as possible for the sake of embarrassing him. Instead, he found himself looking at what was more or less a female version of himself. Everything she had done merely served to bring out his subtly feminine facial features; the only thing that was somewhat overstated was the eyeliner, though even that worked with the rest. It was a surreal experience, both recognizing himself yet also not recognizing himself at the same time.

“Not bad, right?” Amy stood off to the side. She wore a smug smirk and had a hand on her hip, waiting for Chris to turn his gaze from the mirror to the one who had done such a good job on his transformation. “Speaking of starting all over, don’t you dare touch your face. I don’t care if it itches or you’re not used to it. If you mess anything up, I’m just going to have to wipe the whole section off and do it again.”

“Amy-” He began, barely remembering to use the proper voice, “This is-”

“Amazing?” she giggled, “I know. Who knew my cousin was such a sissy? I’ve always wanted a doll to play dress-up with. I would have done this years ago if I knew you secretly wanted to be a girl. You should have told me, Chrissy! Oh. My. God. Sissy Chrissy. That is literally the cutest thing ever!”

Proving his distaste for the rhyming name immediately, Chris tightened his lips in annoyance and narrowed his gaze. No. Fuck no.

Amy seemed to think the complete opposite. “It’s perfect,” she grinned, “And it’s how I’m going to make you start introducing yourself if you can’t manage to be a good girl.”

Part Fourteen

At least they were done. Mostly.

Chris was still wearing a bra and nothing else above the waist, and he was assuming that his cousin wasn’t going to be satisfied until he was dressed like a girl from head to toe. Which is why he was surprised when Amy walked over to the hallway door, rather than her closet or one of her drawers. “Come on, Chrissy. You can’t hide out in here forever, even if you’d prefer a bedroom like this over your own.”

As in, leave her room? Admittedly, he hadn’t really thought this through beyond justifying the transformation steps she had leveraged him into going along with. What exactly was Amy’s end goal here? Get a picture of her ‘female’ cousin when all was said and done? She had made a point to keep her phone out of reach when he was getting out of the shower in her shorts and bra, though she hadn’t remotely promised anything regarding photos moving forward. And he wouldn’t have to keep talking like a girl if she was only trying to embarrass him in the physical sense. According to Amy, her mom and Chris’s sister were running errands. If she was lying, or they were on the way back . . .

“But- a shirt?” He hesitantly asked. Standing up, less for the sake of following and more that the ‘girl’ in the mirror was difficult to keep looking at, he waited for her to realize that walking around the house in a bra is something that she probably wouldn’t do herself. Of course, she also didn’t have someone around who held all the cards.

Amy shrugged. “Tank top. And not without your padding. Come on, let’s go. You’ll be fine.”

Easy for her to say. Though it’s not like there was an alternative to what she was suggesting. If their family was around, Amy could just as easily bring them upstairs and into her room if Chris decided to put his foot down. And considering how much he had already done, this wasn’t exactly the hill he wanted to die on. If anything, it was in his best interests to hold out for a more important moment to be stubborn so his cousin knew he was being serious about it.

Begrudgingly crossing the room and following her out into the hallway with a shaved body that could easily be seen in Amy’s clothes, and a mortifyingly feminine image in terms of the make-up/hairband combo, he kept a paranoid ear out for the slightest sound. Was anyone downstairs? The house was quiet, though Chloe had a habit of parking it on the sofa with her laptop. If his sister saw him like this after everything he had done to buy Amy’s silence . . .

As he reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner, he froze in surprise when Amy exclaimed, “Hey, Julia! Hope we haven’t kept you waiting for too long.” Before Chris knew what was happening, Amy reached through the threshold between the foyer and the living room. She grabbed his wrist and gave him an assertive tug, causing him to awkwardly shuffle into the room before he could think to yank back in the opposite direction. “You remember Chrissy, right?”

The mixed girl sitting up on the sofa was plenty familiar. She was one of Amy’s two best friends, and Chris had met her countless times over the years. Sadie was the one who flirted with him for sport, which worked frustratingly well despite how he knew she was only ever messing with him. Julia was plenty attractive herself, however; having a girl like that see him like this was a lot.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, her whole face lighting up, “Okay, this makes a lot more sense now. But, also . . . Oh, my God. How did-” Giggling as she looked Chris up and down, Julia asked him rather than her, “Chrissy, huh? So, did you lose a bet or did Amy find some dirt on you?”

Slipping back into his regular voice, and taking a step back that didn’t take him very far due to how Amy was still holding his wrist, he blurted out, “Amy! You said-”

“Chrissy!” she snapped, more harshly than his own exclamation, “That’s strike two. I’m starting to think you want to wear a dress.”

That wasn’t fair! He parted his lips to protest, once again about to speak like the male he was, before belatedly processing Amy’s threat. Considering what he was currently wearing, and everything else his cousin had coerced him to do, she could absolutely make him put on a dress.

Going on, Amy said, “And FYI, I said I wouldn’t tell anyone or post anything. If Julia sees you dressed up like the girl you are, that’s your problem. Besides, I asked her to bring something over that I think you’ll like. Now, why don’t you tell Julia your name and what you’re going to be for both of us.”

It took a moment for Chris to remember the phrases that were even more embarrassing now that he had an audience beyond just his cousin. Thinking back, Amy had literally told him that Julia and Sadie were coming over at some point. Then, it had only been a teasing threat in regards to informing them about the fact that he was wearing panties. After the leg shaving that had snowballed into so much more, he had completely forgotten that she had mentioned her friends. Grimacing at the thought of both speaking like a girl in Julia’s presence, as well as saying the words Amy was compelling him to repeat, he huffed out a sigh of both frustration and focus. “My name is Chrissy,” he mumbled in the higher pitch, “I’m going to be- a good girl . . . ”

Julia’s jaw dropped slightly in surprise, before she fully grinned at the scene before her. “Wow. She must have something really good on you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amy giggled, “She obviously just wants to be a girl. Anyway, did you bring the thing?”

“Mm hmm!” Julia bent forward and unzipped the backpack sitting by her legs and pulled out a somewhat small box. “This is going to be so fun! Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for Sadie?”

Part Fifteen

Amy just smiled.

“No need to wait,” she said, “Won’t it be more fun to see if Sadie recognizes her when we’re done?”

“Hmm, true! I’m not sure I would have known it was Chris–sorry, Chrissy–if you hadn’t told me right away,” Julia replied. She opened the box and took out something round-ish that Chris didn’t immediately recognize, “Sorry, they’re not quite her color.”

“That’s okay!” Amy exclaimed, “It’s all make-up safe, right?”

It took another minute of back and forth before Chris realized what they were talking about. The object in Julia’s hand was the padding Amy had mentioned earlier that ‘hadn’t arrived yet.’ Now it was here. The breast form was the first of two, as Chris could now tell as he looked more closely at the box in her lap. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Maybe just a rubber pad to slip in the cup? There were some movies where girls used some kind of insert to make their chests look bigger, though something like that would require some degree of curves to begin with. As a guy, he was apparently being taken from zero to whatever size Julia had brought for him.

Why did she even have those?! It seemed pretty last minute for Julia to swing by whatever store sold stuff like breast forms while Amy was playing her games upstairs. At the same time, he couldn’t believe the two of them had done something like this before.

“Chrissy is all shaved, right? Or waxed?” she asked, “The adhesive will be a bitch to take off if she still has body hair up there.”

“Shaved. Right, Chrissy?” Amy glanced towards him.

Chris reluctantly nodded. He wasn’t able to prevent his cheeks from flushing, or perhaps just getting darker from the perpetual blush. It was impossible to relax or feel remotely normal when Julia was seeing him like this. Also, Amy had already seen his bare chest when ‘helping’ with the bra; she was clearly only clarifying for the sake of further embarrassing him in front of her friend.

With a sigh and a playful eye roll, Amy said, “Shame. Would’ve been fun hearing her girly noises when removing it. Although, who knows? Maybe Chrissy will want to keep them on forever!”

“Only one way to find out,” Julia said, “Chrissy, take off that bra for a sec. Don’t worry, it’ll fit much better when you put it back on.”

“Wait,” Amy smirked, “We’ve been working on her manners. A good girl would ask politely. Oh, but how should she ask? It made so much more sense with clothes. ‘Please give me boobs?’ Sounds weird.”

Chris grimaced slightly at that. ‘Because this whole thing is weird,’ he thought. There was no way his cousin was going to come up with a proper question for what she had in store for him.

Julia looked up in thought for a moment. “Isn’t that your bra, Ames? Maybe Chrissy wants to be just like you. Same size and all.”

“Ooh, good point. Okay, Chrissy. I want you to say, ‘I’m jealous of your body, Amy. I want boobs just like yours!’ You can handle that, right?”

Maybe. Considering everything he had gone through already, it was getting to the point where doing whatever Amy said was just about sucking it up and letting her have her fun. Apparently this feminine transformation wasn’t complete yet, which meant he had to keep playing along for the sake of keeping this between the two of them. And Julia. And Sadie, most likely. At least Amy’s friends were completely separate from Chris’s regular life, so this wouldn’t affect him outside of these visits.

Gritting his teeth, and taking a moment to make sure his voice was still the way Amy wanted it, he said, “I’m jealous of your body. I want boobs like yours.” The delivery was rather flat and unamused, though the feminine tone thoroughly undermined that. He also had to make a conscious effort to avoid glancing down at Amy’s cleavage. Though Chris wasn’t into his cousin like that in the slightest, talking about her boobs still naturally drew attention to her chest.

“See?” Amy giggled, “I told you Chrissy wanted to be a girl. Alright, can you take the bra off by yourself? That’s something you’re going to have to learn if you want to wear girls’ underwear like the sissy you are.”

“Go on, Chrissy!” Julia chimed in. She was obviously on board for all this, despite how recently she realized what was going on, “Or are you bad at removing bras?”

Just like that, it was a no-win situation. Either keep the bra on, or let the implication that he was sexually inexperienced be proven by avoiding the task at hand. Not that the former was really an option anyway, considering he was basically stuck as Amy’s doll for the foreseeable future. “Fine,” he muttered. Reaching back with both hands, not at all used to undoing the clasps of a bra from this kind of angle, he ended up taking a bit longer than he would have liked to loosen the undergarment on his chest.

Of course, Amy was more than happy to comment on the minor struggle. “Give it time, girl. You’ll be able to do it one-handed before you know it!” Then, turning to Julia, she asked, “Mind doing her breasts? I don’t trust myself.”

“I got you, babe. But you owe me one,” Julia winked, “She’s going to hold still for me, right?”

“Chrissy?” Amy glanced my way again.

Once again, Chris just nodded. Whatever it took to finish this process up. Maybe if he didn’t complain, the two girls before him would change their mind about adding Sadie to the mix.

“Good girl!” Julia grinned. She had only heard the phrase once or twice, yet already seemed to catch on. It was both patronizing, and a reminder of his increasingly feminine image. In short, it was perfect.

With that, she retrieved a bottle of the adhesive they had been talking about from the same box and started applying it to the first breast form.

Part Sixteen