Crystal's StorySite

The Scrapbook                by: Amber Palmer


Part III

Chapter 7

The Lull Before the Storm

Teresa Cole, Jeff’s mother, was never one to rush into anything. She had dated Jeff and Alli’s father for three years before agreeing to taking vows. But alas, Benjamin Cole had been stricken by a leaking cerebral aneurysm when Jeff and Alli were mere toddlers. He’d been found unconscious at work and never showed any signs of improvement over the few days he survived in the hospital. Even when he was pronounce brain dead by his physicians, Teresa procrastinated for over two weeks before allowing his respirator to be turned off. She continued to be haunted by stories of patients waking from coma after years, and it went against her basic instincts. Teresa would never be rushed into anything uncomfortable again.

On the brighter side, she had been left with a very large insurance settlement that allowed her to remain at home and devote herself to the children when they were young. She never remarried but that didn’t mean she didn’t suffer from loneliness. After the children were in school, she dabbled in real-estate, earning a little extra money. At most it provide for some luxuries that might otherwise have remained unaffordable.

Over the years, Teresa developed a community of female friends, many of whom were single mothers such as she. They provided each other with mutual support during times of ordeal and companionship that substituted for the losses that were never quite accepted. These friends also served as an encyclopedia of information due to their diverse career choices. It was Martha Nunn, a psychologist, to whom she turned to discuss a most sensitive matter.

Teresa made a formal appointment with Martha, and arrived at her office, scrapbook and video tapes tucked in her handbag. "I’ve a problem that I need to talk to someone about, Marti. Perhaps you might start by watching this video tape and then look at this scrapbook that my son has compiled."

Marti watched the video in silence and then thumbed through the scrapbook. After a considerable pause, she placed them both back on Terri’s side of the desk and leaned back in her chair. "Well, first of all I want to reassure you that this is not the most drastic thing that could be happening with your son……."

"Jeffery. And yes, I know things could be a lot worse, but I’m still in need of direction on how to proceed." Jeff’s mother confided. "I know he’s at an awkward age for males, but this seems more than just idle curiosity to me. Am I wrong? Sometimes not having a man around the house leaves me at a total loss."

"Of course not, Terri. I just want to stress up front, that Jeffery’s behavior is no where near as dangerous as you might be fearing." She reassured in her most professional tone. "It’s not like he’s doing drugs or building bombs. He’s expressing a natural inquisitiveness about the other sex. He’s just a wee bit more into it than your average teenager, and he’s showing some tendencies toward cross dressing ."

"You’re saying he’s a transvestite?" Terri rather bluntly interrupted.

"I said no such thing, although I believe it is a possibility. You say "transvestite" like it’s a dirty word, Terri. You need to lighten up a little and try and understand this as the end of the world even if it turns out that he is a transvestite. Most cross-dressers lead fruitful, productive lives, and most choose not change their circumstances given the opportunity." Marti endeavored to reassure.

"So where do I go from here, Marti? I just can’t allow him to continue plundering my room and his sister’s room at will. He needs to learn some respect for other people’s personal property, and mine in particular." Mrs. Cole managed with a nervous laugh. "I’ve decided not to let him get away with this mischief without paying some price."

"Well who said anything about letting him get away with it?" Smiled the therapist. "You have an unique opportunity to both teach him a lesson and let him learn a little about respecting your privacy. Have you considered indulging his fascination with feminine items, just to let him see what it’s really like to be a female? How do you think he’d react to having to wear lipstick and bra’s, say for the summer?"

"Well, quite honestly, that was my first thought also as I watched the video. But then I started to wonder if it would do some type of permanent injury to his self image. I guess that’s one of the questions I have for you. Could I insist that he dress as a girl for the summer without devastating his male ego? Would this even be legal if someone was to discover I was insisting on his doing so? And if I did decide to proceed along this path, how far could I take it before I risking some type of permanent damage?" Jeff’s mother confided.

"First of all, you won’t be leading him in a direction he wasn’t already exploring. He’s obviously willing to wear feminine items on his own, and my guess is that he’d secretly welcome the opportunity you’d be forcing on him. I suspect he’ll balk at first, and he’s almost required to put up some type of feigned resistance to such a proposal. In fact, he may NEVER concede that he actually welcomes the chance to experience what it’s like to live as a female. So in this way, you at least give the impression of making him pay a price for invading your privacy. It would also have the facade of being a sort of punishment, but my guess is that he won’t really see it that way. But don’t hold your breath waiting for him to ever admit that. As a final thought, you should probably give him some alternative choices, ones that are just so extreme that we can know he’ll reject them. Let’s see, tell him something like he’ll be under constant video monitoring for the next year. Or that he’ll have to wear a t-shirt that says "I’m wearing my mothers underwear." My guess is he’ll hem and haw, and then reluctantly choose the course we have in mind."

"Okay, let me make sure we on the same wave link. I can insist that he pay for his transgressions by dressing as a girl for a specified time, say the summer? It won’t do any permanent psychological damage to have his mother impose this on him?. He’ll feign reluctance, but down deep, he might actually appreciate the experience, and I can say that it’s to teach him a lesson?" Terri reiterated.

"Listen, Terri, who knows what’s really going on inside of his head? I’ve taken the most likely explanations into account and made my suggestions as to how you might proceed." Martha restated. She didn’t add that from her feminist view, it would serve the little pervert right to spend the next three months wearing a panties and a bra under his regular clothes. "If you want, I’m happy to interview him first, but I truly doubt that it will do much to change my advise."

"No, that’s okay, Marti. Just give me a day or two to think about how I’m going to proceed and maybe I’ll give you a call on the phone before I finalize my plan, if that’s alright with you?"

"Sure, Luv. You know my home number if you want any further questions. Just give me a call if you need any further support. That’s what friends are for, after all."

With that the session was ended and Terri failed to notice the smirk on Marti’s face as she quietly closed the office door behind her. She’d take her time in deciding on the final option, and then she’d have the showdown that she was for some reason still dreading.


Chapter 8

Distant Lightening, Unheard Thunder

The planning and scheming was now progressing at an accelerated pace in Terri Cole’s head. She’d been given a green light to proceed by her professional and trusted friend. It seemed as though she could provide Jeff with an option for both atonement and penance for his unacceptable mischief. She had also surmised that no permanent harm would be done by insisting that Jeff be totally immersed in a program to feminize him for a limited duration of time. So the only remaining question in her mind was, "Just how far could she go?"

So what were the real options. Well, she had decided to insist on the obvious. He’d have to wear those items that he clandestinely violated in her bedroom. Yes, she was resolved that he have to wear lipstick, foundation and a bra. Then she methodically expanded the parameters: absolutely on nailpolish and nail extensions. His scrapbook had demonstrated his willingness to embark down that road. He’d be needing a new hairstyle for the up coming summer months and all the accessories that helped manage braids and tresses. She’d decided that he should also experience the confinements wearing tight skirts and narrow heels. Let’s see how he likes maneuvering in those items she mused. Though she’d never suspected that he’d tampered with her panty girdles, why should he be spared the pleasure of twelve hours in one of those most hideous garments? And pantyhose. Let’s see how "cool" he feels in nylon when the thermometer approaches 96 degrees and the humidity is over 80. And shaving; he’s never really had to shave his feeble beard. So instead he’ll be getting his nicks on his legs and underarms as he learns how to wield a shaver.

Then she consulted with Allison, and additional conditions were purposed. "First, he has to apologize for going through my things and having the nerve to wear my bras and lipstick. Next, I want him started BC pills. If nothing else they’ll enhance his derrière and hips. Finally, I want him to HAVE to wear a bra from the start. I not unreasonable. I’d give him the option of either saline or silicone implants, sizes "A" or "B". I can’t go topless and I don’t want him to have that option. Want me to continue, Mother? Let’s see, I want him to keep an updated diary in his scrapbook. I’d just love to read his thoughts as he has to go buy his own tampons or pads. He should also be made to write in a more girlish style. No more large, bold printing. Hence forth, he should have a more flowing style with open loops and curlicues.

"Okay, Alli, I get the picture. The question is, how much time are you willing to spend with Jeffery to teach him some of these skills? If you’re just in this for revenge, them I’m afraid I won’t be able to use your suggestions. On the other hand,…" She trailed off.

"All right, Mother, you win. I’ll be nice. But don’t expect me to be too nice. Remember, he was doing my room just like yours." Alli reminded.

All this set Terri to re-thinking her strategy. Poor Jeff, he’d never suspect what hit him until it was too late to matter.


Chapter 9

Days of Reckoning

I never expected to be ambushed in such a sinister manner. School had let out and summer was about to start. It was Friday, our usual night for a family dinner and we all contributed to the effort. This particular evening I’d volunteered to barbeque hamburgers as it was the only form of cooking I had mastered. Everything was going perfect as I already knew how they liked their meat cook, their buns toasted, and which accruements to add to their plates. Mom and Sis were all smiles. I never suspected the conversation that was to follow.

We had all sat down with the plates in front of use when Mom asked, "Have a nice day today, Jeff?"

"Great day, Mom. Got to play first base at school and I’m sure that the Mustangs are going to draft me for the summer league. Mike Doyle told me that his dad thinks I’d make a great short-stop or third baseman. This is going to be a fantastic summer." I announced.

"I might even get a job working in the snack stand on the off days to earn some extra money." Having spoken my piece, I opened my mouth as wide as I could and took a bite of the juicy hamburger that I’d personally prepared.

Mom just took a rather pathetic look and me, sighed, and then said, "Jeff, we have some rather unpleasant business to discuss." There was a long pause. My mouth was full and so I couldn’t really respond. "Please don’t make this any more unpleasant than this already is." Mom added. "I need to know why you’ve been going through Alli’s and my private items. Take your time to chew your food, and then let me know if there is any rational explanation for your behavior."

Alright, I still had some hope that she was merely bluffing. I’d heard the ABCDEF principle (Always Be Cool, Deny Everything Forever) from friends, and believed that I’d finally get a chance to try it out. Now, just be cool, Jeff, and you can work your way out of this. "Mom, I haven’t the faintest inkling of what you’re talking about." I lied.

"I was afraid you’d take that type of tack, Jeff. So I have some evidence here that I’m just a little bit embarrassed to share with you. Just tell me when to hit the ‘Stop’ button and I won’t subject you to any more than you need to see."

With that the television lit up with a rather poor quality black and grey image of me in their rooms. "Oh Shit." Was all I could whisper to myself. Well it was finally going to come out. I considered claiming that it wasn’t me, that some burglar had broken in and caused the damage. But then I turned to face the camera, and even I couldn’t deny that it really looked like me. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit." I repeated only to myself. It was at that point in time that I realized I had to look my mother and sister in the eyes, and just become so obnoxious that they’d drop the subject. Or maybe at least postpone any further discussion.

"Okay, so what about it?" I shot back. Maybe that would put them on the defensive.

"Let’s get a few facts straight." My mother commented. "Do you deny this is you?"

"Well if it isn’t me, you must have forgotten to tell me about my twin brother." I quipped, still trying to figure some way to weasel out of the circumstance. "Say, what ever happened to my twin brother?" I joked.

"Oh, she went off to a foster family and was adopted as a girl." My sister chimed in.

"Bitch" I could only say to myself.

"Lying will only dig you into a deeper hole, Jeff." My mother offered. "You’ve chosen your path for the future, now it’s just a matter of determining which path this will be. Again, I ask, please don’t make this any harder on me than it already is."

I was totally devastated. I’m certain those of you reading this know the feeling of utter despair that accompanies a situation like this. "Okay, I confess. I’ve screwed up. I promise never, and I really MEAN NEVER, to do this again." I bargained. This was my "throw yourself at the mercy of the court" ploy. And during pregnant silence that followed, I prayed, "Oh please, Lord, oh please, just let Mom and Sis want to end this as much as I do."

Well no such luck. I was confronted with the video and the scrapbook and then summarily given three equally unacceptable options for atonement: (1) Wear a T-shirt (or sweatshirt in cooler weather) to school for one month, embossed with "I BEG MY MOTHER TO LET ME WEAR HER BRA" (2) Do all the house work at home dressed totally as a female for the next year, or (3) Spend the following summer as a girl with no one knowing out side of the immediate family.

Guess which one I finally picked. Yes, over the summer, I’d be pretending to be a teenage girl. Someone once said, "Be careful what you wish for." I was about to learn this lesson first hand.


To be continued in Part IV, within one week.



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