Hateful SisterI was the youngest child and only son, an unplanned surprise ten years after my youngest sister, much to her horror, jealousy and disappointment. She hated me being the youngest and she hated me being a boy. Of course i didnt take any notice as I was a growing child but from the age of 9 things changed. Father was never home much when I was little but at the age of 9 he left us and I was alone with my sister and mother. We were quite poor, though Mum worked and my sister seemed to be well dressed, but I had to do with hand me downs. In school I had my school uniform of course but underneath, my vests and pants were often sisters old ones that had been stored in the back of the airing cupboard, Mum never threw anything away.
Everyone was cross, well crosser than normal, the summer after my father left and almost everything I did was wrong. I had been out playing in the woods by the house, wearing my one pair of jeans and an old wooly jumper over an old school shirt, I didnt mean to fall into the muddy pool I just slipped and I really didnt think of anything as I trudged into the house with a trail of muddy footprints behind me, but oh my god was I in trouble. The telling off was fairly normal, but my mothers tears and exasperation was unusual as she screamed ans sobbed about the state of my clothes and what did I think I could wear now. That was when my sister took over, she told Mum not to worry and that she would deal with me, my dirty clothes were pulled off me and left in a pile outside the kitchen door and then she dragged me upstairs only wearing my vest and pants. She thrust me into her bedroom and slapped me accross the face, then screamed right at me to take off my remaining clothes. I was crying now too, my face was on fire and it hurt, no one had ever done that to me before. She sat down angrily as i undressed, i wasnt too upset about being naked infront of her because she had often seen me getting into the bath, but I remember a sobbing fear gripping me inside my tummy and I think I remember apologising to her and begging her that i would be good. She cuaght me by the shoulders, she was a strong well built girl and held me tightly and in a matter of moments, before i even new what she was doing she had me over her knees. The spanking was probably only ten smacks, I dont know, but it seemed to go on forever and it hurt me like hell, my poor bum felt on fire and i was crying continuously by the time she stopped. When she pushed me off her and I stood up, i remember she called me a cry baby girl and i stood there broken and sobbing beside her. It was then that she went to the airing cupboard, coming back to me still sobbing she dumped a pile of clothes infront of me and spat the order for me to dress in them. I hated it and begged quietly (I hate to say i wimpered but i probably did), the pants this time werent the white cotton things I had reluctantly worn before, they were silky and pink and obviously girly, the pink slip matched and made me feel strange as i put it on, in the end after much dislike and pleading i was dressed in an old pink and cream party dress that showed my knickers when i moved, the underwear that i've already described, a pair of thigh long white socks with pink flowers on them, (I distictly remember the elastic garters that held them up) and a pair of red children's high heels that she had in a dressing up box when she was a girl.
I felt odd and awful as she made me twirl and parade about for her and then to my utmost horror, when she was satisfied she made me go downstairs to show my Mum.
It was the start of a summer of painful embarassment and the begining of a sissy life when I was forced to meet her's and Mum's friends, but that is a story that I can tell or carry on with this one if you want me to? please let me know if you would like me to.
Riche 46-50, M 8 Responses 10 Jul 14, 2010