Bicycle Halloween should be like this...

Discussion in 'rec.bicycles.soc' started by Lanthaanoids, Oct 22, 2004.

  1. Lanthaanoids

    Lanthaanoids Guest

    "Stacey Turner" <[email protected]> wrote in message
    news:[email protected]
    > Hi all. I've been away from the group for over a year, since
    > the ISP I got after I moved didn't have newsgroup access and I
    > really hate trying to keep up with sites like google groups...
    > Here is a early halloween story for you. This is halloween the
    > way I always thought it SHOULD be. This story started as fact,
    > but I ended up throwing in more and more of what I would have
    > liked it to be. The core of the story is still true, I'll
    > leave it up to you to figure out where to draw the line!
    > +++++++++++++++
    > The first time I dressed up for halloween, I was too young to
    > enjoy it properly. It is something I hated at the time but it
    > is something I look back upon fondly now.
    > I don't know my exact age, but I must have been around 11. My
    > mom always made us (me and my older sister) elaborate handmade
    > costumes, but this year she had just started a new job and
    > didn't have time to plan and sew anything special.
    > As usual, we sat around the kitchen table a few weeks before
    > the holiday talking about what we 'wanted to be' that year.
    > My sister decided she was too old to participate and would be
    > going off to a high school party. This left just me, and I was
    > too young to give up on the idea of getting lots of candy. I
    > was even thinking that with no sibling competition, I could
    > really clean up!
    > I had some great ideas for costumes, mostly from the glut of
    > horror movies that were making the rounds that year, but
    > every idea was shot down as being too expensive or time
    > consuming. It was my aunt who finally came up with the idea
    > of re-using my sister's costume from a few years earlier. It
    > was ready to go, and I was the same size that she had been so
    > there would be no preparation needed. I was racking my brain
    > trying to remember what my sister had dressed up as that year,
    > but couldn't recall. Finally, it came to me. They were talking
    > about dressing me up as a Fairy Godmother! That just would not
    > do, if I went like that I would be beaten at school every day
    > for the next several years.
    > No amount of pleading could make my sister, aunt or mom give
    > up on the idea, so I did the only thing I could. Early the
    > next day I went into the attic, found the box with the
    > offending costume and hid it in the garage under boxes of old
    > tools.
    > At this point, I figured I was safe. I could express surprise
    > along with everybody else when the costume could not be
    > found. If I was lucky, I would have enough time to put
    > together a 'simple' costume and still score some candy. Even
    > if I had to give up on the holiday completely, it would be
    > better than showing up as a fairy!
    > The big day came and I was ready to act disappointed. Just
    > after breakfast, my mom asked me if I was ready to try on my
    > costume in case it needed last minute alterations and I said
    > 'sure', not wanting to show my hand. I saw I wasn't about to
    > get off without some discomfort, since she had everything but
    > the dress, wand and tiara all set out ready for me to try on.
    > She had even bought me some little girl's pink tights during
    > the week! "Lets get you into all this first" she said, "Then
    > I'll go fetch the rest of it".
    > This set me back. I didn't want to try on ANY of it. But if I
    > made a fuss now, she would certainly suspect something was
    > going on later when she couldn't find the box. My best bet
    > would be to feign enthusiasm now then pretend to be upset when
    > everything fell apart later on. The worse I would have to put
    > up with would be a few minutes in some girl's things in the
    > privacy of my own bedroom.
    > As my mom stood by, I poked through the items she had layed
    > out on the bed. Panties, pink tights, a training bra, full
    > petticoat and white shoes. I asked her if I really had to wear
    > girls panties and she said yes, the boxer shorts I usually
    > wore would bunch up and look strange and be pretty
    > uncomfortable under the tights. I looked again at the cotton
    > bright yellow colored panties with a flower print. They had
    > pink lacy trim and a tiny bow in front. I shrugged. "It will
    > all be over soon" I kept telling myself.
    > My mom left me to change, but being young and inexperienced in
    > such things I was having quite a time trying to figure out
    > how everything 'worked'. A few minutes later my mom knocked on
    > the door to ask how I was doing and I had to admit that other
    > than the panties, I was still just starting to figure things
    > out.
    > Without another word, she pushed the door open and stepped
    > into the room. "Mom!" I yelled. "Don't worry, I'm your mother
    > and have seen you naked since the day you were born". It
    > wasn't the 'naked' part I was worried about, it was the
    > stranger feeling I was getting standing in front of her
    > wearing nothing but yellow lace panties and a bra pulled
    > halfway up one arm.
    > "Put your arms out" she said as she took the bra from me. As I
    > did, she slipped the straps over my arms and up to my
    > shoulders. I felt things tighten a bit as she clasped it in
    > the rear, then the shoulders straps snugged up as shen
    > adjusted them to fit. I didn't know what was coming next
    > while she rummaged around in a small bag that was also on the
    > bed until she reached over to where I stood and stuffed a few
    > bundles of rolled up material into each cup of the A size
    > bra. "We don't want you to be large, but at this age you
    > should have something up top".
    > As I stood there gazing down at this foreign new clothing and
    > my new boobs, trying to catch up to what was happening, she
    > was already moving on to the next task. She next in front of
    > me, at the same time rolling the legs of the tights up with
    > her hands. "Step up" she said, touching my right leg to
    > indicate which one I should move. I lifted the foot a few
    > inches off the floor. As I did, she slipped the foot of the
    > tighs over it and stretched them halfway up that leg. "Now
    > the other". Before I knew it, she had slipped my other foot in
    > as well and was now standing in front of me efficiently
    > pulling the waist of the tigts up into place. "Don't be
    > embarrased" she said. "I dressed your sister like this for
    > years before she was old enough to dress herself".
    > "Put the shoes on so you don't run the tights if you step on
    > something sharp" she instructed. I slipped the shoes on and
    > stood up. The heels weren't not high my any means, but to a
    > boy who had never worn anything but sneakers all his life, the
    > were would take a little getting used to. I walked around a
    > bit to get used to it then stood still while she lowered the
    > petticoat over my head.
    > "OK, all done for now. Now wait in the living room while I get
    > the rest of the costume down". Finally, she would not be able
    > to find it and in minutes I would be back out of this stuff!
    > I walked into the living room, feeling very out of place, and
    > came to a dead stop as I looked around. My aunt and older
    > sister were there, sitting on the couch watching television! I
    > had thought they were going out shopping, so never considered
    > having them see me like this!
    > I almost turned and ran back to my room, but my mom was
    > blocking the way as she entered behind me. "Go. Sit. I'll be
    > right back" she said and walked to the attic stairs. Any hope
    > I had to be invisible vanished when my sister and aunt turned
    > at the sound of my mom's voice. To their credit, there was no
    > teasing or laughs from either one. They both must have known
    > how hard it was for me. My sister gave me a small smile and
    > patted the couch for me to come sit next to her. "You look
    > very pretty like that" she said with a smile. That was all
    > that was said. In a few moments, we were all involved in what
    > was on TV. The only thing distracting me the strange feeling
    > of the tights and petticoat on my legs, and the strange
    > constriction and weight of the bra.
    > By the time my mother returned from the attic, I had almost
    > forgotten what was going on. As she came down the stairse I
    > remembered what was going on and started looking forward to
    > the ordeal being over.
    > Mom was quite upset that she couldn't find the box, but didn't
    > give on that she suspected my part in it at all. I could feel
    > myself being seconds away from this all being over but then it
    > all fell apart.
    > "Well, he certainly can't be a fairy without the gown" my aunt
    > started. "What can we do at the last minute so he can still
    > enjoy the holiday"?
    > As I took a breath to let everbody know that I was OK with the
    > cancellation, I was cut off my my mom. "I'm sure we can come
    > up with something, come with me".
    > I got up from the couch and swished after her. I had to be
    > careful to not let the wide peticoat sweep things off the
    > coffee table as I walked past! As she passed my bedroom, I
    > turned in to start stripping off these silly clothes. No
    > sooner had I removed the petticoat than she came through the
    > door saying "What are you doing"? I told her it was OK, I
    > understood if I couldn't dress up. She said "Don't be silly.
    > Leave the petticoat off but don't touch anything else and come
    > with me".
    > As we continued on down the hall, we passed her room as well.
    > She called out to my sister to come over from the living room
    > and we all met in my sister's room. As soon as she asked my
    > sister if I could 'borrow a few things' from her, I had a
    > sinking feeling. My sister gave me a sweet smile and replied
    > "She can use whatever she wants as long as it comes back in
    > good shape. Have fun, sis!". She and my mom ignored me for a
    > few minutes as they dug through her closet. I snippets of
    > converstation like "You know, that one you wore
    > from christmas...clip on..full slip...necklace..doesn't fit
    > anymore...B cup....oh, THIS!" before they came out of their
    > huddle with an armload of clothes and accessories.
    > My sister left my mom and me in her room, going back to watch
    > more television after making a cryptic comment that "now it it
    > your turn, enjoy!" This time things went ever quicker. The
    > training bra and contents were replaced by a lacy bigger-
    > cupped black bra and stuffed a little more fully. The shoes
    > were replaced by a pair that were more dressy and had a much
    > higher heel. Once the bra was in place, adjusted and properly
    > stuffed, she slipped a full length black silk slip over my
    > head. The slip was full and very lacy at the bottom so would
    > help any dress over it 'float' a bit as I walked. As far as I
    > was concerned, this was not a good thing.
    > I finally saw what I was in for when she took a very nice blue
    > dress from the hanger. It had a full skirt and very feminine
    > cut, with plenty of lace and tailoring to show off a budding
    > woman's best features.
    > I remember my sister wearing it to an outside event at her
    > school a few years ago. I remember teasing her endlessly, as
    > only a younger brother can, about the fact that everybody got
    > a look at her panties when she failed to hold it down against
    > a gust of wind while walking up to accept her award. When she
    > tried to tell me I was lying, I proved it by telling her the
    > color of the panties she was wearing. Like any younger
    > brother, I had kept harping on the event for the rest of the
    > day with her turning red in the face and promising to 'get
    > even' with me someday. She never wore that dress after that
    > day. Now, it was beginning to look like today was going to be
    > her revenge.
    > My mom told me to hold my arms up and slipped the dress over
    > my head, zipping it up the back. It fit like a glove against
    > my body, even where it followed the curves of my 'breasts'
    > down to my waist below which it flared out to a very full
    > skirt. The hemline came to just above the knee and the hem of
    > the slip just short of that. I also realized that there was no
    > way I could reach the zipper by myself, so I was pretty much
    > stuck in the dress until somebody decided to help me take it
    > off. The feeling of the skirt and silk slip against the tights
    > on my legs was very strange to me. I found myself swinging
    > back and fourth just to feel the movement. I looked up to see
    > my mom watching me with a smile on her face. I instantly
    > stopped, feeling my face turn red.
    > I thought I was done at this point, but it wasn't to be. My
    > mom sat me down at my sister's dressing table and began to
    > dab things from several tubes, compacts and jars onto my face.
    > I couldn't see what she was doing because she had me faced
    > away from the mirror, but she was doing it very quickly. This
    > wasn't a surprise, since a few years ago she had worked in a
    > beauty shop. After she began working, she called my sister
    > back into the room and placed her in charge of trimming and
    > painting my fingernails. After a while, I realized that she
    > had switched from fussing with my face, which now felt
    > strange, to my hair which I kept rather long. She spent a bit
    > longer there, even resorting to a curling iron and hair pins
    > before being satisfied. Finally, she clipped some glittering
    > earrings onto my ears and looped a matching necklace over my
    > head. The last touch was a set of jingling bracelets on one
    > arm, and one of my sister's old watches on the opposite wrist.
    > She finished up just about the time my sister was finishing my
    > last finger, warning me to be careful to not touch anything
    > for the next 15 minutes as they dried.
    > When she finally spun me around to see my reflection in the
    > mirror, I was expecting to see a boy made up like a
    > prostitute, since that was what it all felt like from my
    > perspective. What I saw was... my sister! I couldn't see any
    > 'me' in the mirror. I also didn't really 'see' any makeup. It
    > was subtle enough to make me look like a young girl by
    > hilighting my feminine lines while downplaying any 'boyish'
    > features. I could see my sister standing behind me, and the
    > more I looked the more subtle difference I saw. But my first
    > impression was that I looked just as she had looked on that
    > day she had worn the dress a few years earlier.
    > As I stood up, the illusion was ruined. I was still wearing
    > the pink tights that would have gone with the fairy costume.
    > The pink against the blue of the dress clashed and made the
    > whole outfit look like a clown suit. My sister looked at my
    > legs and told my mom "We've got to do something about that". I
    > gladly started to reach down to remove the tights, but my
    > sister stopped me warming me that my nails were still wet and
    > I would probably get the color all over her nice dress. In no
    > time, my mother reached up under my dress to strip the pink