Vicki's Secret

by Susan

 

V

 

Brett awoke early Saturday morning the same way most young men awake, very aroused. As he lay there he lightly manipulated himself. He began to recall the events of the day before. This added to his arousal. He had enjoyed himself the day before. He enjoyed how Vicki had made him feel. She had treated him like he was the center of her universe yet she held her own. He also enjoyed the memory of the lingerie he wore. This was his first time out wearing hose under his clothes. He loved the feel. He began to fantasize about future trips out in silk. This raised his desire even more. He rubbed his legs together then realized he had changed the night before. Time to fix that, he thought.

He checked the time. Early enough so he'd have plenty of time before others started to arise. He got out of bed and went to his dresser. At the back of the bottom drawer behind some bulky sweatshirts was his stash of hosiery. He pulled out a pair of suntan thi-highs. As he headed for the bed he remembered the underpants, tap pants Vicki called them. He fished them from the bottom of his laundry hamper. With eager anticipation he rushed back to his bed. He quickly pulled on the panties. They were wide enough to cover his very hard member. The feel of the silk rubbing against it was powerful.

Sitting on the edge he gathered the hose up and drew it over his toes and slowly and skillfully stretched it up his hairless leg. He ran his hands up and down his thigh and calf. The silky feel on his hand was nice but the sensation on his leg was electric. He was throbbing now and knew if he continued he wouldn't last long. Reluctantly stopping himself, he encased his other leg the same. Now he could really have fun. He stretched his legs out before him and marveled at how pretty a millimeter of nylon could make them look. As he kicked his legs up and down he delighted in the sensation he really enjoyed. Silken leg brushing against silken leg. He badly needed relief.

Enough play time, he thought. Time for business. He laid down on the bed and covered himself with the covers. He then took hold and began to pump as he rubbed hose covered leg against hose covered leg. It didn't take long to climax. It was powerful and made a mess inside the panty. Using tissues he did his best to clean up. This would have been easy but no sooner had he started cleaning that he was once again erect. He needed relief. He was burning. He wanted more; he wanted Vicki.

He checked the time again. Surely his mom would be getting up soon. Perhaps he could sneak into the guest room for a quickie without any one knowing the wiser. Vicki wouldn't say anything especially with the way he was dressed. She liked the way he looked in his lingerie. He sat up and swung his legs out. They were sexy as all get out. True his underwear was a bit wet but she would understand. He stood and pointed his foot out. Damn sexy, he thought. Wait, he needed the T-shirt. No not a T-shirt, a camisole. He needed the cami. He walked over to the hamper and started fishing. He bottom he found it at the bottom also. He raised his hands and let it drop into place.

"Brett?" His mom called as she lightly knocked on the door. Then without waiting for a reply she entered.

"Mom!" He yelled angrily as she entered. Too late she was in and staring at him standing there wearing her lingerie.

"Brett!" She shockingly responded.

Evelyn was a good therapist but even good therapists can be shocked. She knew he had worn her stuff the night before. She had chosen not to say anything that evening. This morning she was going to confront him before Vicki got up. She had looked in on Vicki just before coming to his room. Her motives weren't so pure. She was checking to make sure Vicki had spent the night alone. Happily for her Vicki was alone and sound asleep.

She wasn't prepared for what she encountered. Evelyn was a therapist; she was also a mom. Mom feelings were conflicting with therapist logic. She was actually at a loss for words. Just what do you say to your son when you see him all dressed in lingerie and hosiery. It's one thing when you discover it under his clothes; it's another when that's all he's wearing in front of you. She had seen him in just jockeys on rare occasion. That was kinda like his swim team Speedo's. No big deal for a mom. Tap pants and nylons and camisole were a big deal. All that and the panties were wet with; she didn't want to think about it.

"Cover yourself with a robe!" She sternly remarked as she turned her back to the startled and embarrassed teen.

He grabbed the bath robe that lay on the floor nearby and hastily threw it on. He fumbled with the belt for a few moments then realized he had put it on backward. Almost ready, he said as he quickly reversed it. Finally it was on and tied. He was covered except for his silken legs. He felt very uncomfortable with the slight shine they had. For some reason his legs no longer looked sexy.

"You can turn around now." He told his mom.

She turned and looked him over. She had hoped he would have removed his hose. He hadn't. Why was it so difficult for her to see her son in hosiery and lingerie yet not have a problem with Vicki. She was trying to draw on her training. Mom interfered with counselor. She was feeling very burdened at that moment. She needed space. This was not the time to walk away. She glanced as his bedside clock. Vicki would be rising soon.

She sat on his bed and tried to gather her thoughts. Her son's best friend was in the guest room sleeping in one of her loveliest night gowns. The girl she had hoped her son would marry was now suspected to be lesbian. Finally, here was her son dressed feminine. It never rains but it pours. What was it Vicki had mentioned? Storms. Storms all around her. Here was Evelyn sitting with the burdens of three families sitting squarely on her shoulders. She took a deep breath and started like she always did when she lacked direction.

"How can I help you?" She spoke the words though they sounded hollow and generic.

"I'm not sure I understand mom?" Brett replied.

"Well let's assess the situation. You're standing dressed in some of my very pretty lingerie and hosiery. Nothing out of the ordinary for a girl but you're a boy. In the other room you're best friend is sleeping in a negligee as pretty as any teenage girl but she is also a boy. Yesterday, you two were out as a boy-girl couple. Though I noticed that you were more a sissy than a man by your underwear. No, I'm sorry I won't take cheap shots. I then noticed you and he kissed before you left for your errands. Did I miss anything?"

"No, mom." He replied looking at the floor in shame.

"I want to understand. I really do. But I need you to be honest with me about everything. Why you're dressed like this and has there been sex involved?" Evelyn really didn't want the answers but she had to know.

"Mom, I'm not gay. I like girls; I really do. Vic and I have not had sex. Sure I kissed him but not him, her. I forget Vicki is a boy. She looks so incredibly pretty and she acts like a girl. I get to having so much fun I don't see Vic any more." He sounded a bit desperate.

"Hey if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck and looks like a duck; it must be a duck." He tried to break the tension. His mom didn't smile.

"I just found out about Vic a couple days ago. It was accidental. He didn't just come out to me. I made him tell. When he did, it didn't matter to me. He was still my friend. Wearing your clothes was my idea. I wanted to see him in all his glory. I didn't think he would look that good. I figured I could pick on him and get him to stop. But when he showed me I was surprised. We spent a day with him dressed. I felt a little weird at first but the more time I spent with him the more he just was a girl. All the reasons I liked him as a guy friend fit better with him dressed as Vicki."

Brett continued though now he was more relaxed and even sat on the bed. Not realizing it he had pulled his legs up and was light caressing them. A fact not lost by his mom. She had gone into shrink mode. She was listening intently and watching his every move. His body language was speaking volumes. She could see that Brett was very comfortable in his lingerie. Yet in spite of that he was not exhibiting much in the way of femininity. Vicki on the other hand was very feminine. You could forget she was a he just by his mannerisms. He behaved like a girl even when he wasn't conscious of it. Brett was all male, even though his underwear wasn't. She seemed a bit reassured by that.

"Yes, I kissed him but not him. I kissed my girlfriend Vicki. I mean my friend who is a girl named Vicki. You know what I mean, don't you?" Brett asked hoping she would say something. He didn't want to say more than was necessary.

"Relax, I understand. It is easy to forget Vic isn't a girl. He presents all the classic signs of transsexuality. It could very well be that one day he will be a girl. That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me or why you're wearing lingerie. Don't tell me it's your first time or you did it as a lark. I'm a lot smarter than you think."

Brett swallowed hard. He had really enjoyed talking about Vicki that he forgot what he was wearing. Now he realized that he was sitting on the bed with his knees up resting his hands on them. Actually caressing them. He knew he wasn't going to get away with anything but the truth. It was just figuring out how to reveal that truth in a way that would leave him looking good.

"You're right mom it's not my first time. I put on nylons from time to time as the urge comes up. I really like the way they look on me. I especially like the way they feel. It's not fair that girls get to wear anything they want. Even men's jeans or shirts. A guy puts on some hose and the world ends."

"Brett, don't give me that argument. I know you like them because of the look and feel. I know it's more the feel. I also know that you're masturbating while wearing them. It's become a fetish for you. You enjoy sex more wearing the hosiery than without. So stop the Bs."

"Sheesh, mom, do you have to say it that way? All right! You're right it is a sex thing. But I also like the way my legs look in hose and shorts. The cami and panty are just a little extra because of the feel. You have to believe me when I tell you that I don't want to fully dress like Vic. I like being a guy. I just want to share a little of the silkiness you women get to have. I thought you would get mad so I hid it from you. I'm sorry. Truth be told, you started me on this."

"How did I start you? I never put you in anything feminine!" She protested.

"You started me by being so damn... darn pretty. I would see you leave for work everyday dressed really hot. I have always liked your legs. You wear a dress or skirt almost everyday. I would get aroused seeing your legs covered in some shiny colored nylon all the time. One day I found your hose drying in the laundry room. I had to feel them. So I took a pair down and rubbed them on my face and arms. They felt silky and soft. I don't know why but before I knew it I had put them on my legs. They felt wonderful. So I started to sneak a pair every now and then. They would get ruined and I'd take another pair. When I started shaving for swim team I found out how silky they really were. I knew I was hooked."

"I suspected you had been pilfering my hose but I could never catch you. I did notice that some of my really nice hose had disappeared. I figured I'd either catch you or you would come to me and tell me. They are nice and they do feel wonderful. I'm upset because you didn't think you could come to me. I treat lots of men and women who have this same fetish so I understand. I'm glad you told me the truth. I realize you are not gay nor are you transsexual. I guess we need to figure out some ground rules for you."

Evelyn needed time to think since she now knew for sure he had a fetish. With most of her clients she counseled to control the behavior with limits and avoid dangerous situations. Here she wanted to remove this from her son but she knew better. She didn't want to just say all right go for it nor did she want to clamp down hard. Neither would work for the best. She was perplexed and flustered. Her time was short this morning. She needed time to think about this situation as well as the lunch she had planned later. Fate intervened with the sound of a toilet flushing.

"Since it's getting late and Vicki is up; we'll leave that till later. For now you are not going out in lingerie or hosiery. I mean that, okay?"

"All right mom. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Get dressed and come down to breakfast."

With that she left and headed for the kitchen.

Brett grabbed a towel and jumped into his shower. He washed himself. Squeaky clean he thought as he dried himself off. He lost himself in the immediate with all the toilet a vain guy like him does everyday. Fixing his hair just so and cleaning his teeth. Deodorant and after shave follow all the rest. Then finally flexing muscle after muscle in the mirror. Damn I look good was all he could think. As he was practicing movement of his pectoralis muscles he heard some one giggling softly. Quickly, he wrapped a towel around himself and opened the bathroom door all the way. Vicki!

Vicki was doing all she could not to fall on the floor laughing. She took hours getting herself ready because, well she had too. Here was Brett, a male, taking more than a girl to get ready. That and the muscle thing proved too much. She couldn't hold back her quiet spying on him. She started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Brett demanded. His ego slightly damaged by her amusement.

"Nothing...hahahahaha.....really...hahahahahaha." She could hardly contain herself.

"How would you like it if I laughed at you after primping and painting to look like you do now?" He spoke with rising anger.

Vicki realizing she was going to far managed to settle herself. Then she stepped forward, reached up and kissed him on the lips and grabbing his towel simultaneously. She pulled hard as she ran to the door.

"Mom has breakfast on; so come down now!" She screamed with glee as she made it out of his room before he could react. She did manage to see him naked. She smiled as she descended to the kitchen.

"Morning mom." She spoke as Evelyn came into view.

"Morning yourself." She replied as she looked Vicki over as she entered the kitchen. She was dressed conservatively in a dress Evelyn had never seen before. Must be hers she thought. Vicki was dressed feminine: bare legs, no shoes, tea length sleeveless cotton dress, breasts which meant bra and forms, her hair pulled into pigtails on the sides of her head, simple hoop earrings and no makeup. She danced around the kitchen getting some last minute fixins for her breakfast. No doubt this boy really did want live as a girl. But how far would she be willing to go?

"Vicki, your mother wanted you home early this morning. It will be okay to leave whatever dresses and such you have here in the guest room for now. I realize you're nervous about meeting with her. I think it is important that you gather up your courage and just get there early and deal with this. If you really and truly want this then today is the beginning of a life out of the lies and into the truth. I'll be here later if you need to talk. Hear your mother out and listen to her. Don't blurt out but let her speak and really listen. Remember it's hard for a mother to understand why her son wants to be a girl. More so one who has already lost one child. In a way she may loose another, a son."

Vicki's smile disappeared. Reality was rearing its ugly head again. Fantasy is fun but you always have to leave it. She had purposefully not thought about what was ahead. Now she had to face it. She felt a burning in the pit of her stomach it was fear. She looked up at mom, Evelyn. It seemed as though her words were piercing Vicki's very soul. She knew Evelyn was right. Yesterday was the start of something that she had to finish. In a way Vic died yesterday. Damn! Evelyn was right. Mom was loosing another child, her son, Vic. He had never thought of it that way. He was to use to living for himself. His dreams of being a woman were all that had filled his thoughts lately. The events of the last two days proved his resolve. He had to now test that resolve. Could he stand the test?

Vicki was so lost in her thoughts she had not heard Evelyn leave. In fact her breakfast had grown cold and Brett was nibbling her ear whispering something.

This brought her back.

"Huh? What?" She said turning to look at him. As she turned she was met by a one eyed serpent staring her in the face. Stunned it took a moment to realize that Brett was erect and demanding satisfaction for the stunt she pulled earlier. As she opened her mouth to object he thrust it forward. It filled her mouth to the back causing her to choke. She fell back and off the chair. She hit the floor hard. Brett was amused by all this and started laughing. She pulled herself up, still stunned. He was laughing. She turned and ran to the guest room. She could hear Brett yelling after her.

"What's the matter? I know you wanted it. I see, you can dish it out but you can't take it!" He shouted after her.

&

Mrs. Kathy Wagner was busy in the laundry room ironing the last items of wash. She was humming to herself contentedly. The look of her face betrayed her current emotions. She looked tired. Also her eyes were slightly swollen, not from a beating but from crying. The dark circles under them published the fact that she had gotten very little sleep. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. They appeared to have been slept in. In contrast, the clothes that hung about her were clean and immaculately pressed. To the side on a clothes line, lingerie and hosiery hung dry. There was a small wardrobe in that room. Everything a girl would need for a few days. It was not hers.

As she finished ironing the last dress she held it up to herself. Holding it close. Tightly clutching it to her bosom. She could see herself in a long mirror on the back of a door in the room. Tears were now streaming down her face. The humming had stopped. She held it as if never wanting to let go. Memories flooded her mind. She remembered buying this dress. She remembered the night it was worn. How beautiful it had fit, a compliment to the wearer. She had washed it in the past a couple times never giving it a second thought. But now it was different. It wasn't just a second thought but a third and a forth till a flood of memories could not be held back. She sank to the floor a sobbing mess.

&

Vic turned up his street riding his bike. He had been pedaling fast but as he approached his house he slowed. He was eager to get everything out in the open with his mom but he was also scared. He was surprised with how she dealt with his stash of hose the day before. Then again she was in a hurry to get to work and didn't have a lot of time to rip into him. Now it was Saturday, lots of time to do anything. Let's not forget his dad. He would be home as well.

As he turned in his drive he was relieved to see the family car missing. Perhaps his dad wasn't home, better still maybe both were out. He might have a reprieve till later. Then he thought about it and decided it was best the sooner the better. At least he'd have time to put away some of his "essentials" before confrontation. He put his bike in the garage and slung his day pack over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath he entered the house. It was quiet. Didn't seem anyone was home. Quickly, he headed to his room. He was convinced that no one was home.

He threw his bag on the floor and kicked it under the bed. It slid far. It was the sound of its movement that tipped him off. Something wasn't right. He quickly got down on all fours and lifted the spread that hung low. Sure enough, the area under his bed had been cleaned. There was nothing left. Not his junk and more importantly the small boxes containing his clothes, Vicki's clothes, were gone. Jumping up he ran to his closet. Sliding the door aside with a hard thud he clawed at the end of the winter clothes. His dresses were gone. There were only three but now there were none. Looking on the floor at the back proved his three pair of ladies shoes gone also.

A panic welled up within him. Fight or flight?! How could this have happened? And after such a great past few days. His eyes were darting back and forth. His mind was flying a million miles a minute. It was as if everything were in slow motion. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something or someone. How could he be so stupid?! He had to think. What to do? Mom? Dad? Who? What? Better still where? He had no answers only questions, lots of questions. Just when he thought he couldn't come up with any more quires fear hit him. What is going to happen to him? He turned his back to the wall and slumped to the floor. He lowered his face into his hands and started crying silently.

After a few moments of self pity he composed himself. He was better than this. He had gotten out of worse. Yesterday he spent a stress level 10 day. This couldn't be more than a 7 maybe an 8, okay really an 11. Irregardless he thought; this could be handled. First, where are the clothes? Second, who found them? Third, where is everybody?

Wait, he thought. No one's home. I have time to search and see if anything is still here. Vic got up and took a mental note of what was missing. He also noticed that everything had been straightened up. Therefore it had to be mom who had raided his room. This might not be so bad, he surmised. With that he headed towards his parents room. Not a long walk since it was across the hall. Brett's house was huge, upstairs/downstairs, a walk to everything. This house was small and didn't offer a lot of privacy but it was home.

A quick search revealed nothing. Well today it revealed nothing. In the past it revealed all the precious unmentionables his mom kept neatly folded in her dresser. Her side of the closet also had it share of memories. Had the day been different he would have been perusing everything with patience. Searching for new clothes or deciding which of his favorite outfits to wear. His mom wasn't a clothes horse like Mrs., Evelyn, mom 2. But she did have good taste. Guess he inherited that from her and his sister. Still nothing was here.

He didn't remember seeing anything in the garage or the garbage. Better check the basement next. Vic was methodically going over a check list in his head. No need to panic just handle things one step at a time. And so he did one step at a time he descended the stairs to the basement. There were lights on but nothing to be concerned with. Someone was always leaving them on. At the bottom of the stairs he looked about the family room. Messy as usual. He kept meaning to get to it. His mom had been riding on him to clean it up for some time. Just low on his list of priorities. Nobody really used it much anyway. Not since his brother left for college and Mary. Not a good thought. The room was clean. Meaning no sign of his clothes.

Only one other place to check on that mental list, the laundry room. He walked over to the door and grasped the handle tightly. The door always stuck so you had to pull hard. This time was no different. It opened with a shudder and so did he. There before him hanging all around were all his clothes. The clothes line was stretched out. Hanging from it were his nylons and slips and other unmentionables he loved. On the rod hung his dresses and skirts and blouses, washed and pressed. It was unusual to see them this way. Hiding them like he had they were always wrinkled when he wore them. Here they looked wonderful. As he looked around a stirring deep within made him want to change right away into an outfit. He was lost in the moment and had forgotten his fear and his worries. He slowly stepped into the room and reached out and touched, caressed his clothes. He drew a nylon from the line and brought it to his face. Lightly drawing it across his cheek he reveled in its silky softness. Something more unusual was the scent. It had been rinsed with a touch of perfume in the water, his and Mary's favorite.

A sound brought him back to reality. Looking in its direction he saw his mom. She was curled up on the floor holding a dress like a child's blanket. She was sound asleep. She had a look of deep contentment. He had not seen that kind of peace on her face in a long time. He kneeled down next to her. Upon closer inspection he could see that she had been crying. Though peaceful now earlier she had been upset. Her face needed to be cleaned. He looked around and realized she had to have spent all night cleaning and ironing and hanging. That and perhaps mourning. Was she mourning the death of her daughter or of him?

He stared at her intently. Trying to somehow divine the truth. Where did he now stand with her? As he looked at her lying on the cold tile floor there was a moment of guilt. Here she was exhausted from a sleepless night. Her face betrayed the peace now radiating from her soul. He had spent the night entirely for himself. He had reveled in his own femininity that morning. Yet here she was dealing with the realities of his life. He fell forward almost crashing into his mom. He had stopped breathing and had almost passed out. He didn't want to wake her.

He felt stupid and selfish and even dirty. As he thought about what she had done and how emotional she'd been the day before, he could not face her. Tears began streaming down his face. He turned and started to get up. He wanted to run from that room. His fear and panic had turned to guilt and pain. Depression was setting in. At that moment he wished he'd never had been born. All he wanted to do was run, run away. Disappear and never hurt anyone again. As he stood to leave not just the room but everything, he bumped the clothes line. He was not even conscious of it. Silently and like a silken feather a nylon stocking slipped off it's perch and dropped. As it landed on the floor it brushed the cheek of that sleeping beauty. And just like the kiss that light touch awoke it's intended.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Susan Vasquez. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.