I started this story in 2003 as a series, which I did not complete. I have now revised the original story line and completed the story. I am grateful to Holly for all her help. If there are still errors, it is not because Holly did not do a good job as editor.

 

Mummy Must I

by Robin Diaz

  

Chapter One

The three of us, Mom, my older sister Becky and I sat at the kitchen table eating dinner, hotdogs, baked beans and macaroni and cheese. Mom started playing her favorite game of twenty questions.

"How was school? What did you do? Did you get any grades back? Do you have homework? Have you made any new friends?"

Every night she asked the same endless stream of questions with no pause for me to answer. Not having a chance to answer was fine, because I did not want to tell her that school sucks and I have no friends. Kids in school know what I am, and they let me know. I'm trailer park trash. I live in a trailer park next to the railroad tracks; nobody wants to be friends with trailer-park trash. I would never tell Mom that. She works hard and she wants to do better for us. She doe not always understand, because she did not come from poor. She fell into poor. I believe the reasons we cram around the kitchen table for dinner is so we are more like the normal families who live in houses with dinning rooms.

Becky interrupted, "Mom in home-economics class we are doing sewing."

"That's great dear."

"Do you want to know what I'm going to make?"

"Sure."

"I'm making a prom dress."

"We can't afford that, a prom dress is costly."

"I know it could be expensive; but I think I will be asked to the Junior Prom."

"You're only a freshman."

"Yeah, but if your date is a junior you can go."

Mom quit her game of twenty questions with me to play with Becky. "Who's the boy?" "Where does he live?" "Why would a junior be asking a freshman to the prom?"

I could answer that one. Because Becky has a reputation, boys who date Becky don't need to spank the monkey. She likes to lick the love handle, suck the sausage and do the deed. There is a reason the boys nicknamed her bobbing Becky.

"Sewing my prom dress will save you money. You won't have to buy me one."

"I'm not sure I like you going out with older boys."

"Please, please, please"

I wondered if her date would have to say please three times or just undo his zipper.

"You can make the dress, but pick a simple pattern with inexpensive fabric. But I am not saying yes to you going to the prom. I would like to meet this boy before I say yes."

"Thanks Mom, you're the best. His name is James Smith, I think you already met him," Becky took a bite of her hotdog.

"I'm not saying this boy is, but sometimes older boys prey on younger girls, so they can." Mom glanced at me. She had my full attention. I liked watching Becky squirm. "Well, just don't do anything you shouldn't."

"Mom!" Becky did a great job on the sweet girl act.

I saw an opportunity to have fun, "What shouldn't she do?"

Mom looked at me then at Becky. She focused her attention back on me. I picked up my hotdog. I didn't lift it to my mouth. I held it just above the plate. And then I bent over and slid my mouth down the bun. I wanted to see how they handled the visual clue. Becky glared at me. I know she wanted to call me an asshole. I had half the hotdog in my mouth when Becky kicked me in the shin. I jerked, causing me to gag on the hotdog, which I coughed it into my plate, my food going all over the table.

"Bobby!" Mom scolded me, "How many times have I told you not to stuff your mouth full of food?"

Still coughing a bit, I eyed Becky.

"You're going to clean the mess you made."

"I'm sorry Mom."

"Mom since Bobby has to clean the mess he made; can you take me shopping for fabric and a pattern?"

"I didn't plan on doing that tonight, can't it wait?"

Becky slumped in the chair, "I guess. It's just that a prom dress could take me some time to sew, but if you're to busy I understand. I just wanted to do my best and get a good grade."

Becky was good at making Mom feel guilty, "What about your homework, is it all done?" I asked.

"Is your homework done?" Mom asked Becky.

"All except math, but that won't take me long."

Mom looked at me, "What about you, is your homework done?"

"All done," I answered with pride.

"Good boy."

"Since Bobby is done with his homework he can do the dishes," Becky stated.

"You can do your homework while I clean," I wanted to flip her off.

"That is a good idea," Mom said standing up.

Becky gave me a dirty look, "Will you take me shopping after I'm done with my homework, please."

"First get your homework done, and then I'll see."

I cleaned while Becky went to her room to do her homework and Mom took a load of laundry over to the laundry house.

"Hey Dweeb, where's Mom?"

I ignored her.

"Where is Mom?" She asked louder.

I shrugged, "she left."

"What! Where did she go? She promised."

Just then, Mom walked in carrying the empty laundry basket.

"You're an ass," Becky told me.

"What was that?" Mom asked.

"I'm done with my homework. Can we go now?"

"I just put a load in the washer."

I could see that Becky didn't like hearing that. When she looked at me I smiled; she didn't always have get her way. It was obvious that she was aggravated.

But Becky hated to lose, "Since Bobby has his homework done; he can take care of the laundry."

"We can go later," Mom avoided being referee.

"You promised. I finished my homework like you asked."

Mom took a deep breath before looking at me. I didn't say anything, I shrugged, whatever.

"Okay," Mom set the empty basket on the sofa, "Bobby you will need to check the machine in twenty minutes. Here are the two quarters for the dryer." She set the quarters on the counter. "Turn the dial to medium heat."

"Sure, Mom, as soon as I'm done with the dishes."

"I'm sorry Bobby we won't be long."

"And don't forget!" Becky felt the need to add her (supposed) authority.

Mom grabbed the car keys, "We should be back in an hour. If not you will have to get the clothes out of the dryer, but we should be back,"

After washing the dishes I watched television. I waited past the twenty minutes; hoping they would return. Reluctantly, I took care of the laundry. It was embarrassing to unload the washer, as the load of laundry was Mom's and Becky's undergarments. I was thankful that no one else was in the laundry house. I waited an hour for them to return before going back to retrieve their underwear from the dryer. I felt like a pervert sneaking into the laundry house to collect their delicates.

Mom and Becky were gone for close to two hours before they finally returned. They walked in all happy and joking. As usual, Becky got way.

"That took longer then you said," I whined.

"I'm sorry; I really thought we would be home sooner."

"Quit whining, it's not like you had any plans," Becky retorted; then added, "Did you remember to get the laundry, or is it still sitting in the washer?"

"I took care of the laundry, after I finished washing the dishes, and cleaning the kitchen; while you were shopping," She is such a princess lazy-ass.

"Thank you Bobby. You're a good son."

"So what did you do with it? You probably didn't fold or put it away."

"Becky..." Mom obviously didn't like her tone.

"I put the basket on 'your' bed, for 'you' to fold."

"That figures," Becky pushed by me.

"That is enough, apologize to your brother."

"Apologize!" Becky stood with her mouth agape, "What for, he's the one."

"Apologies now and then go take care of the laundry," Mom held her hand up to ward off any rebuffs. "Now!"

"Sorry," Thinking 'What a dweeb.'

Becky carried her packages back to her bedroom. When she saw the basket of lingerie she was glad that the little dweeb had not touched her things. As she folded and piled the lingerie a wicked thought came to her. She was going to have fun with the little dweeb, soon to be pervert. Becky felt the need to tarnish the halo on Mom's little angel.

 

 

Chapter Two

Two days had passed. Becky could not wait any longer. She went to her mother to ask for a dress form and to plant the seed. She was going to enjoy watching her little scheme grow and her brother squirm.

"Mom I need a dress form to sew my dress."

"We don't have one dear."

"Can you buy me one?"

"I don't know; they are expensive. Maybe somebody at work has one I could borrow."

"That will work. Thanks Mom," Becky stood in silence for a second, then asked the question, "Mom, have you seen the pink bra and panty set that you bought me last month? You know, the one with lace trim."

"It's not in your drawer?"

"No, I thought they would have been washed, but they weren't in the basket the other night," Becky stated.

Mrs. Strikler thought about the other night. She remembered putting the set in the washer, "They just can't disappear?"

"I'm sure they will show up," Becky walked away smiling, visualizing Bobby pleading to be believed.

The next day Mrs. Strikler went into Bobby's bedroom. The disappearance of the panties and bra nagged at her. She was positive that she put them in the washer. If Becky had not folded them, then Bobby had lost them or he... She didn't want to think that, but the thought had been troubling her all day. She would have never contemplated Bobby taking the panties except the way he slid the hotdog in his mouth. When she saw him slide his mouth over the hotdog like he was taking a cock in his mouth, she had been shocked and horrified. Now Becky was missing panties.

She started her search of Bobby's bedroom in his drawers. After she found nothing there she looked in the closet. The room was tiny; there were not many places to hide something. She looked at the bed. She slid her hand between the mattresses. She froze when her hand came across the panties. She reached in and pulled out the pink bra and panty. She flopped on Bobby's bed holding the lingerie in her hand. She sat there staring at them. She had hoped that she would not find them. Now that she had, she was unsure what she should do next. She wondered how it was possible. Her baby was only twelve; he was too young to be gay.

That night Mrs. Strikler called her older sister Monica. She had always wished and hoped that Bobby and Becky would have the relationship that she and her sister had growing up. They were best friends growing up. They didn't bicker constantly like Bobby and Becky.

"Hi Sis."

"Hi," Monica was glad to hear from her little sister.

Linda started the conversation with the small talk, and the basic events of the family. She was hesitant to mention Bobby and the panties. Monica knew when her little sister was bothered by something. Linda was glad that she was asked what was wrong. She told her older sister about finding the lingerie under her son's mattress. She told her about how sometimes she thought Becky was in her things. Now she was wondering if it was Bobby. The two spoke for some time.

"What do you think I should do?" Linda asked

"It could just be a phase."

"That is what I am hoping."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Not yet. That is why I called, to get your opinion and advice."

"I watched a show about boys who like to wear girl's clothes. It isn't that uncommon."

"It wasn't that guy in the morning with the weird people."

"No it was that doctor guy in the afternoon."

"Oh, he is good, I like him. What did he have to say?"

"Be supportive, it is very important that Bobby knows he is loved."

"Thanks Sis, I knew you would help."

They talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. She loved her son and he should know that. She wondered, did he? He had been quiet and withdrawn lately. She had worried that he was becoming depressed. That night Mrs. Strikler came to a resolution. Her only concern was how Becky would react.

Becky was surprised by her Mom's suggestion that Bobby should be her dress form. She did not want him near any of her stuff, let alone her prom dress. She was certain that her mother did not try very hard to borrow a dress form. She was about to complain, when her mother produced the pink bra and panty set. Becky did an excellent job of acting shocked when Mrs. Strikler explained where she found the lingerie. Becky understood what her mother was doing. She wanted to laugh. This was better than she had hoped.

"Do you think he is gay?" Becky asked. She had always thought him quire, but not in that way.

"I don't know?" Mrs. Strikler tried not to sound negative.

"Well if he wants the panty and bra he can have them," Becky started thinking of other things she could get him to wear.

Mrs. Strikler hugged Becky, "Bobby is lucky to have such an understanding and loving sister."

Chapter Three

"You're kidding," I could not believe what mom was asking.

"No I'm not. It will save us money and you will be helping your sister."

"Mom I can't wear a dress."

"It's not like you will be wearing it. You will just be fitting it."

"But I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I'm a boy."

Mrs. Strikler thought Bobby would have jumped at the chance to wear the dress. Not only was he being given permission, it was her idea. She wondered if she misjudged the situation. The way he was acting she had doubts about her decision.

"I told you he wouldn't help me," Becky stated flatly. "He only thinks of himself."

"No I don't," I retorted, "You're the selfish one."

"Then you'll do it?" Mom asked.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"I guess, but she can't tell anyone. If kids in school find out, I'll be beat-up."

Mom assured me, "She won't tell anyone."

"I promise," Becky said, thinking, 'The hell I won't.'

"You'll find a bra and panty set in your top draw."

Mrs. Strikler could tell by Bobby's expression he did not understand her statement, "You will need to wear them."

"What!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Why?"

"You need to be as close to Becky's shape as I can make you."

"Mom! Must I?"

"Yes."

I went to my bedroom. In my top draw was the pink bra and panty set. I remembered them from the other night. They were very soft and sexy. The other night when I took them out of the dryer I wondered what they would be like to wear. Now, I was about to find out.

I striped out of my clothes and held the panty up, uncertain about putting them on. It was strange. I was drawn to them yet afraid to wear them. There was something appealing and comforting about the lingerie. Having those feelings was scary. What would it mean if I wore them? Slowly I stepped into the panty. The way the elastic hugged my buns and the smoothness of the fabric was an incredible sensation. Tantalized, I rubbed my hands over my bottom, and then suddenly became embarrassed that I was enjoying wearing the panties. My fear of deriving pleasure from lingerie had been realized.

I held the bra in front of my chest. It was a strange and sexy garment. I turned it around while studying the intricate lace. I had never seen Mom or Becky put one on, so it was not clear to me how one was slipped on. I was confident you did not step into it, so I tried hooking it and slipping it over my head without success. Finally, I wrapped it around my waist and hooked it, and then I turned it around my waist and pulled it into place. It was difficult to slip my arms through the straps while trying to pull it up.

"There is an easier way to do that," Mom stood in my doorway.

I jumped. "Mom," embarrassed I tried covering my chest and crotch.

"Don't worry."

"Mom, this isn't funny."

"I'm sorry," she turned around, "put your pants on then I'll fix your bra."

"It's not my bra," I mumbled while I rushed to get my pants on.

"Are your pants on?"

"Yes."

"When I put my bra on I just slip my arms through the straps and then reach behind to hook the clasp," Mom illustrated for me as she explained the process.

"Thanks Mom, but I won't be wearing a bra after tonight."

"Bobby it will take weeks for Becky to sew her dress."

"Weeks? When I agreed to do help I thought it was just tonight."

"No, Dear. It takes time to sew a dress. Put your top on then come to my bedroom."

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You agreed to it, you have to," Mom turned and left my room.

I pulled my white T-shirt on. When I looked in the mirror I could see the pink bra through the T-shirt. I felt a tinge of gratification and pride. Part of me felt the need to stop, to go back, but there was no going back. I headed for Mom's room. The distance to her bedroom was short, but that short walk was unforgettable. I could not believe how sensuous Becky's panties felt as I walked. I was aware of my every movement. I felt giddy. Again, part of me worried about enjoying wearing Becky's underwear. I also became fearful when I walked pass Becky. Could she tell that I was enjoying myself?

"I'm here," I told Mom while glancing back at Becky sitting on the sofa. The way she smiled at me made me uncomfortable.

"Come over here," Mom commanded. "I cut a pair of old pantyhose to stuff with cotton balls."

"What for?"

"You need breasts; you need to be the same size as Becky."

I gave her a questioning expression.

"Don't worry I gave Becky a little help when she was twelve."

Mom continued to tell me about Becky's first bra, a training bra. I did not say anything I just listened while she worked on stuffing and shaping the nylon falsie. It was strange to listen to Mom talk about Becky's first bra.

"Okay, let's see how this fits."

Mom pulled my shirt up and placed one falsie in. After studying it for a minute, she pulled it out and stuffed in a few more cotton balls. Then she worked on making the second the same size as the first. Once she had them finished, she placed them in my bra.

"I don't know if I would say you're lucky or if you missed out, but you get to start out with a B cup," She stated stepping back to look at her work.

I stood there staring down at my new breasts. It was sexy seeing the small mounds and pink bra through my T-shirt.

"Straighten your back, stand proud,"

I did as she asked.

"Becky can you come here?" Mom called.

Becky stopped at the door, "What?"

"Stand next to your brother; I need to see if I got the size right."

"Cute," Becky said, thinking 'I needed to get a photo of my little sissy brother.'

Mom reached under my shirt and pulled down on the bra. "Your breasts are too high," she told me while adjusting the shoulder straps.

I blushed.

Next door in trailer eleven, Vanessa happened to glance out the side window. She was shocked by what she saw. Bobby her neighbor and best friend, was wearing a bra, and Mrs. Strikler was adjusting the straps.

"What the..." Vanessa muttered.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Kiss asked.

"It's Bobby. You're not going to believe me, but he is wearing a bra."

Mrs. Kiss walked over to the window, "So she did it."

"Did what?" asked Vanessa.

"Becky needed a dress form for the prom dress she is sewing. Linda tried to borrow a form, without any luck. So she talked about having Bobby act as the form."

"You're kidding, why?" Vanessa made the statement like poor Bobby.

"Bobby's thirteenth birthday is in a couple weeks. She is trying to save money to buy him that gaming station he wants."

"Oh," Vanessa found seeing Bobby wearing a bra intriguing.

"You should go over there and give him some words of encouragement."

"We have a quiz in Spanish tomorrow; I could go over to study."

"That is a good idea, but what ever you do, don't giggle or laugh at him."

"Mom! I wouldn't do that. He's my best friend."

"I know, it's just the slightest bit of teasing could ruin everything."

Vanessa grabbed her books and headed over to Bobby's trailer.

Mom pulled my T-shirt down into place. She fussed with the breasts, squeezing them together, and then pushing on them. It was an odd having my mother shape my breasts.

"There, what do you think?" Mom asked.

"They look natural on him," Becky said.

I could feel that I was getting aroused, "Mom I can't do this."

"What?"

"I can't,"

Mom cut me off by putting her hand in front of my face, "Bobby I am getting tired of your constant whining."

I saw Becky smile.

"Sorry," I told Mom.

"I think he needs a thinner waist, I'm not fat," Becky stated.

Mom defended me, "Bobby is not fat."

I thought myself to be nothing but skin and bones, how Becky could suggest I'm fat was unbelievable. Mom measured us, at Becky urging. Becky had a thinner waist. I could not believe she was two inches smaller. I felt fat.

"Suck it in tubby," Becky patted my stomach.

"Mom!"

"Becky, you could be nicer, he is doing you a favor," Mom reminded her.

"Sorry."

I froze with fear hearing a knock at the front door. It was then that I realized the curtains were open. Anybody walking by could spy me. My fear grew thinking about all the people who could have seen me. How many kids in school would know that I liked to wear my sister's panties and bra?

"Can you get that?" Mom asked Becky.

"Mom!" I protested, "Don't let her let anybody in."

"Hi," I heard Becky.

"Hi Becky, is Bobby here?" It was Vanessa.

Becky had heard Bobby's protest, but the situation was too perfect. "Come in," Becky said stepping back, so Vanessa could see her new little sissy play friend.

"Bobby Vanessa is here."

I whispered to Mom, "I can't go out there. Can you get rid of her?"

As Becky stepped into the bedroom with Vanessa right behind her, I turned my back to them. I know it is stupid to try to hide in plain sight but I did not want Vanessa to see the two large bumps on my chest.

"Hey Bobby, do you want to study Spanish with me?" Vanessa asked.

I stood there in silence. I prayed for a lightning bolt to strike me down. I could not believe I let myself be talked into wearing the bra and panties. I was so embarrassed. It was all Becky's fault. So I prayed for a lightning bolt to strike her down instead.

"Are you wearing a bra?" Vanessa asked.

Neither Mom nor Becky said a word. 'Shit!' I hated the both of them at that moment. I straightened and turned to face her. I thought, 'Go ahead and laugh.'

"I made him wear it," Mom came to my rescue. "It's a favor for Becky. She is sewing a dress and needed a dress form."

"Oh," She shrugged her shoulders, "I came over to see if you have time to help me study Spanish for the quiz tomorrow?"

'That was it? Oh. I expected her to laugh at me.' It was at that moment I learned that Vanessa was a true friend.

"I don't know. When do we do the dress thing?" I asked Becky.

"You have time to study," Becky said, momentarily confused by Vanessa's acceptance, "But don't take your bra and panties off."

My face turned red. I thought, 'You bitch; you had to tell her I'm wearing panties.'

"If you have a quiz tomorrow, take all the time you need," Mom said.

Vanessa stepped into the living room where I followed her to the sofa. She sat in the middle forcing me to sit next to her. I felt awkward sitting next to her wearing a bra. I tried to cover my bumps with my arms. She leaned in and whisper to me in Spanish, "I think that you are the best. If I had a brother I would hope he would be like you."

I thanked her in Spanish. Her compliment relaxed me; however, I could not forget that I was wearing a bra and panty. After I got my Spanish notes and book, we spent the next hour studying. We decided to only speak in Spanish. Off and on during our studying, Vanessa made comments to me. When she told me how great I looked, and how we could now do things like girl friends, I wasn't sure what she meant or how I should respond. Her acceptance was pleasantly unexpected. The giddy feeling I felt earlier returned. I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was only for a week, but I did remind her I was only doing it to help Becky.

As Mrs. Strikler watched her son from the kitchen, she realized he looked different, changed, and not just because she was seeing him wearing a bra. It was his mannerisms, his high spirits. He was happy. She even heard him giggle. She could not remember the last time he was happy. She imagined him wearing a dress, with his long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, laughing. The image was real. She couldn't provide many material things, but she was determined to provide a loving happy environment.

  

  

  

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