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  • A Sister's Revenge Ch. 03

A Sister's Revenge Ch. 03

12

I hope you all enjoy this story. I appreciate any feedback you care to send, and will respond to all who desire it. I really do appreciate any and all notes and letters received from readers of this site. Please, as the 42nd St. vendors say, be 18 or be gone (actually, in my day, it was 21, but that was years ago). Again, please enjoy.

*

Meanwhile, Michael lay patiently in the tub, awaiting his Mother's return with his promised snack until the water turned cold and his skin had shriveled up like a prune. Finally, wondering if she might be in trouble, Michael decided to go look for her to see if everything was okay.

Getting out of the tub, he began to dry himself off like he usually did and realized his skin was much too sensitive for that, due to the absence of hair. Therefore, he started to pat down his body to dry it instead of rubbing his skin like he normally did, and dried himself off in a more pleasurable manner.

As there was nothing else yet put out for him, Michael decided to once again put on the outfit he had worn to the mall, at least to find out what had happened to his Mother.

Once dressed, he walked out to the kitchen. Halfway there he heard voices. Well, like voices. Moans and talking and such. He slowed down to listen.

He heard Melissa talking first, "...but still, I just had to tell you, in private, just how much fun this has been, and how turned on I've gotten since this whole business of feminizing the little sissy started.

"And I wanted to thank you too, for everything you've brought into the mix and for not putting a stop to it when you first found out about my idea to do this to my lummox of a brother."

Then he heard his Mother reply, "I understand just how you feel because I've felt that same luscious excitement every time I get that ass-hole to put on another piece of girls clothing, and even more thrills when I get him to agree with me that it's the right and proper thing to do, that he must do it for his own good.

"That bimbo thinks by wearing what I'm going to be getting him to eventually wear and by acting how I am going to get him to act, that he will be cured of his swollen chest and eventually rid of his tits. The stupid jerk, wait until he sees how much bigger they get as time goes on. He'll be thinking he's still doing wrong or bad things!

"Yes, Melissa, I've had several enjoyable orgasms myself over the past 48 hours that I wouldn't have had if you hadn't originally started Michael on this path to femininity, and I haven't been this wet between my legs in a long time, knowing that soon I will have two daughters instead of one."

'Oh god,' he thought, as he turned to go back to his room. 'This is why all of this is happening to me?'

Unable to take in the total venom that spewed from out of his sister's and Mother's mouths, Michael walked into his room as though in a daze, trying to comprehend all that he'd heard.

Apparently nothing, except that which he'd originally done to bring about his sister's wrath, was his fault, was his doing, according to what he'd just heard.

Somehow, either or both his sister and Mother had done something to him which had caused his tits to grow. They'd also lied to him about it, convincing him at first that the problem was physiological.

Later they'd tried to tell him that is was his fault, because he enjoyed too much the thrills derived from wearing the clothes they gave him.

"Oh my god!" he cursed in wonderment. 'What the hell could I have done to make them hate me like that?'

Then he realized that no matter what, he was no longer a welcome member of this household, and as such, had better get out before things got any worse for him.

He wasn't sure where he could go, or if there was any where he could go without getting ridiculed for what his family did to him.

The only thing he did know, though, was that he could no longer stay in this house with these people who had now become strangers to him.

Still having no underwear of his own, and feeling the need for support for the breasts he now sported, he took a few bra and panty sets from his sister along with some of her blouses and shorts, and some of his Mother's nylons. He then packed them into a knapsack he'd used to carry books in school.

Before he left, however, he did decide to leave a note, just so they might understand why he was suddenly not there, when, if, they decided to look for him.

After doing so, he folded it neatly and lay it upon his pillow and, grabbing his wallet, he put it into a spare purse his Mother no longer used and climbed out his bedroom window into the early evening hours, unsure what lay ahead of him.

**********

Forty-five minutes later, Melissa came back into the bathroom after her wild romp with Mary, to look after Michael, only to find the tub empty, only to find no one in the bathroom at all.

"Michael," she called out. "Michael, where are you?"

Still no answer.

Walking down the hall, she continued calling out, "Hey, Mike!"

Nothing

"Yo, stupid, I don't have time for these games!" she moaned.

Turning into his room, Melissa first looked under the bed, "Look, asshole! When I get my hands on you, you'll be sorry, bitch!" Then, swinging upright, she saw his made bed and then the note on the pillow there. Frowning curiously, she opened it and read it.

"MOTHER! MOTHER, COME HERE, QUICK! PLEASE! MOTHER!"

After Melissa's initial scream, Mary shot up from where she was sitting, thinking that maybe Michael was spying on her again, as that was the only other time Melissa ever screamed so urgently for her before.

But when she arrived at where her daughter was standing, she found herself in her son's room and more strangely, alone, with her daughter.

"What, What is it, Melissa?" Mary asked her frightened daughter, who looked as though she'd seen a ghost.

"This," Melissa said, handing her the paper she'd found on Michael's bed. "You'd better read this. I found it on his bed here."

Mary took the paper from Melissa's hand and began reading it:

Dear Mother and sis,

I don't remember just what it was I did that hurt you so much to make you guys want to hate me like you do, but I suppose it must have been something.

I got out of the tub early and heard the things you said, and I guess you wouldn't have grown tits on me or fooled me into wearing girl's clothes if it wasn't something bad. But I just can't remember what.

I'm sorry you guys hate me so much still, but since you do, I've decided to leave this place as I think it's best for all concerned. Yes, I realize I will probably be teased and ridiculed and called names like Mother said will happen.

On the other hand, maybe I'll find some sort of love out there, somewhere, a love I won't find here -- a love I seem to have lost here.

Don't bother looking for me. You won't find me at my friends homes, as I'm sure you can imagine why. So I'm not sure where I'm going yet.

If I come back, it will be when I'm ready to see you again. If you force me to come back here, I'll only run away again, so don't try please.

Again, I am sorry for whatever wrong I ever did either of you. I have always loved you both.

XXXOOO Michael

******

Michael really didn't know where to go, dressed as he was, and carrying the clothes he was carrying. He was truly frightened at the thought that he might bump into any of his friends or neighborhood buddies looking like he did.

Even coming across strangers in this outfit was causing him enough anxiety because of the terrible things his Mother had warned him people would do to him should they realize just what kind of freak he really was.

No way could he stand the idea of being recognized as Michael Franklin while being chased down the street being called "Titty boy," or maybe wrestled down by a group of boys demanding to see and show to the rest of the world, his new, grown tits.

When he was able to think more on it, the only time, the only place Michael had felt comfortable or safe since this ordeal started was this morning, when he and his Mother and Melissa had gone to the Mall to eat and shop a bit.

Yes, the ordeal at the shoe store had been humiliating, but other than that, the rest of the day had been rather nice, and, just as he had assumed, he hadn't seen anyone he knew nor had he felt at all threatened by anyone while window shopping the rest of the time there.

So thinking about it now, Michael realized the mall was still going to be open for the next three hours, and, if he took the bus, he knew he could get there in twenty minutes.

Feeling he'd be safe there at least until he could figure out a long-term strategy, Michael decided to do just that. Thus, he hopped on the next bus and made his way there.

Once there, Michael just fell in among the other shoppers, walking from store to store, soon finding himself captivated by the seductive lure of forbidden and overwhelming desires for items he could never afford nor should ever want.

After almost two hours of window shopping, Michael found himself staring at the most stunningly gorgeous sequined evening gown, one so beautiful that he just couldn't take his eyes off of it.

This was a dress he'd longed for, the one he'd searched his entire life for. Michael felt that he would die for this gown, if need be.

Even as he suddenly realized who he was and that these were improper thoughts for a boy like him to be having, Michael was unable to keep from gazing longingly at this magnificent creation.

Still, knowing this however, the poor boy blushed shamefully, realizing he was getting a hard-on because he was just unable to keep his thoughts from continuing on in that lustful manner.

No matter how hard he tried thinking of something else, Michael couldn't put a stop to his desires to have this garment, imagining how wonderful it must feel to the touch, and then of how gorgeous he would look in it.

"You know, dear," a voice from behind suddenly spoke to him. "I think you have great taste. That gown would look fabulous on you. Simply fabulous."

Not realizing he was being watched, Michael turned around and shamefully saw the saleslady from the shoe store looking at him and then at the dress in the window. Feeling as though he'd been caught jerking off in public, Michael froze, totally embarrassed, rooted to the spot.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you, dear," she said. "But I'm serious. You would look gorgeous in that. Really, you would."

Sure she was somehow able to tune into his thoughts and feelings to see his innermost desires and then use them against him just so she could have some more fun at his expense, like she had earlier today, Michael, remembering her taunts, then his Mother's and his sister's, could take it it no longer.

Hearing those words at the time he did while feeling the sensations he was feeling, he suddenly began to cry.

Standing there, his shoulders began to heave with wretched pangs of distress as tears flowed unchecked from his eyes. Looking up at this lady as if asking, "e tu Brute?", too weak from hunger and shame and just plain not caring to live anymore, Michael collapsed at her feet in a dead faint.

Not realizing the boy's sensitivity to the subject, the sales lady had no idea that Michael's reaction to her suggestion would be so turbulent and uncontrolled.

Seeing what she'd been the cause of, she was immediately brought to tears herself. Luckily however, she had enough presence of mind to be able to act swiftly in such a situation.

She asked a customer standing nearby to lift Michael up and carry him to her store just two doors down, while she followed along with his bag. She then had the man lay him down on a table in the back room and leave him for her so she could apply cool compresses until he revived.

As he slowly came to, Michael began looking around, trying to figure out where he was. First he saw the sales lady, then the boxes of shoes. After that he remembered what had happened, understood where he was, and was not happy. He tried to get up to leave.

"Look, honey," She said, forcing him to lay back down. "Before you go anywhere, I want to apologize for what I said out there. I didn't mean to upset you like I did. What I said, I said in all sincerity. It was my fault, however.

"I had no idea, without personally knowing you, I mean, how you would actually take such a comment. Therefore, I should never have made it until I knew you better. I am therefore, very sorry. Please, accept my apology, will you?"

"Yes, sure," Michael said, though still a bit sullenly. "Just let me go now, will you?"

"Wait a minute, there, will you," she said, a bit more authoritatively. "You're not going anywhere for a little while. That was quite a reaction you had to my statement, so I'm thinking that it wasn't only because of what I said, either.

"Listen, I know when you came in here earlier today that your Mother had you dressed up in this same outfit, these short shorts and panties and all, so I know she started you in girl's clothes. That's why I teased you a bit.

"Then I saw you tonight in the same outfit staring at that dress in the window and said what I did, which I actually meant as a sincere statement, because I figured you liked wearing those kind of clothes by now.

If I'm wrong, like I said, I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to tease you or be mean or anything. Maybe it's hard to tell the difference, sometimes it can be. And like I said, sometimes I forget about that."

As she spoke, she noticed the boy beginning to twitch, his shoulders starting to shake, and she knew that he was on the verge of crying again.

Her heart went out to him, because she knew he was holding something painful inside and she was unsure how to get him to let it out.

She had an idea, though she knew it would be painful. But maybe shared pain would be the only way.

"Look, um, what's your name, anyway," she asked. "Mine is Cindy."

"My name is Michael," he replied.

"Okay," Cindy started. "Look Michael. I want to tell you a story. This is about a boy. His name was Mark.

"He wasn't like most boys in that he always seemed like he felt he should have been born a girl -- always felt like he was in the wring person's body, you know?

"So he used to relieve his tensions every so often by dressing up in girl's clothes and putting on their makeup and stuff -- just in the house and all, and pretend he was a real girl, just like he felt.

"He only did this when he was alone or when I was there, because, yeah, he was my brother. But this was like twenty, twenty-five years ago, and it wasn't really cool to do or talk about those kind of things out in the open, you know.

"Well, he did this for about three years, till just about when he graduated college, when one day my parents came home early and caught him.

"Well, as you can guess, the shit hit the fan, although it really wasn't as bad as you might have thought.

"I mean, my Mother, well you know how Mothers are, they never stop loving their sons, even if they're not as proud of them as they once were.

"But Father, well Father called him every name in the book. Even that might not have been so bad except that he got drunk one night playing cards with his buddies and talked about it.

"Soon the whole town knew about it and teased Mark mercilessly. One night, he took an overdose of sleeping pills when he went to bed and never woke up."

"Oh God, Cindy," Michael gasped. "I'm so sorry."

"I've always felt partially responsible for his death, Michael," Cindy said, tears streaming down her face. "Because I was the one who assisted him with his dressing up. I thought it would help him feel better about himself.

"I showed him how to put makeup on, how to do his hair right, how to go out and find the right sizes in clothes to buy for himself, everything. I thought if he didn't have this release, he would have killed himself much earlier in his life.

"Anyway, I'm really telling you this tale because I feel you have something similar going on in your life right now, something that's building up to a pressure point about to either explode or boil over, and I don't want to see what happened to Mark happen to you as well.

"Like I was saying before, I remembered how you were dressed earlier, and saw you again, gazing longingly at that gown in the store window, wearing the same clothes you had on earlier today.

"My first thought was that you're really getting into the clothes and the lifestyle that your Mother has chosen for you.

"If not, if you're being forced into this lifestyle and you don't enjoy it, stand up to those who are doing this to you and tell them to "fuck it!". Tell them to "Go to Hell!".

"Whatever the situation, you mustn't let them dictate to you how you are to live your life, Michael. You are eighteen years old, right? Your life is your own. How do they say? Carpe Diem, boy! Seize the day!"

"But what if they've forced me into this lifestyle," Michael started timidly, "And I've started liking it? I mean, some of it?"

"Some of it?" Cindy asked. "Which parts do you enjoy?"

"Well," Michael said with a blush. "It's embarrassing, but I really have started liking the clothes, especially since Mother listened to you and removed my body hair.

"But I hate that my sister made me grow tits! She did this to me because she was mad at me for something I did a long time ago, so long ago I can't even remember what it was.

"And when they were first discovered, Mother said it was gynoco, co, something or other, and then later, she said it wasn't that. She said they were growing because I wanted so much to be a girl.

"I can't believe they hate me so much that they wanted to do this to me, and then lie to me about why they were growing.

"And the thing about it is, I heard them talking today, and they still hate me, they still plan to do more mean and cruel things to me.

"They're not happy with what they've done so far. They're bitter and vindictive...and I can't remember what it was I did to deserve this punishment! That's why I ran away."

Hearing this tirade come from this sweet boy, Cindy was aghast to learn that Michael's family had pulled such a trick on him.

Now she understood why he reacted so violently to her statement to him regarding the gown. Plus, wearing the baggy sweatshirt like he was, she'd had no idea that he had any sort of breastal growth at all.

"I'm happy you have come to enjoy the feel of the clothing, at least," Cindy said. "But I see why you reacted as you did when I mentioned the gown.

"Your family had no right to do as they did to your body -- your body is a temple, and is your own, not for others to play around with! I'll definitely have to get to the bottom of this.

"I can't believe they grew tits on you, Michael," Cindy continued on in a breathless whisper, slowly approaching the boy.

Sliding her hands beneath his sweatshirt, Cindy did discover that he was actually fairly well endowed with an abundance of tit flesh.

By the feel of it, she assumed it was at least a B-cup by now, that was well concealed by a tight brassiere and the loose fitting sweat-shirt.

"Are they sensitive, dear," she asked, as she slipped her fingers beneath the bra and teased and pinched Michael's nipples, causing the boy to gasp and moan in sensuous pleasure as his knees buckled out from under him.

"Ah, yes," she said. "I see they are. Yes indeed. Very sensitive, aren't they, my sweet, darling sissy."

"Oh, oh god, yes, yes," Michael cried out. "Oh god, I love that. That's the other good thing I've gotten to like about this whole mess. Oh, Oh! Yes, oh god, yes!"

"Yes," Cindy continued. "I see that down below is even more proof you like this. You're pretty well hung, for a sissy-boy, aren't you?"

12
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