Don Venuto's Sissies

"Ready?" Mark's mother asked.

"No!" Mark said.

"Would you rather wait a bit? Perhaps look around some?" Mark's mother asked softly. Another girl over in a sea of white dresses under a large gold cross was also looking at him.

"Can we do this some other time?" Mark asked.

"Sure? I mean we've got one more day to shop before the party. Honey, you realize that another day isn't going to make this any easier or change things." Mark's mother said.

"I know." Mark said softly with resignation in his voice.

"So?" Mark's mother asked.

"Fine!" Mark said and added, "You go first, I'll follow."

Mark was definitely the center of attention at far as the girls shopping were concerned. At least till Ralph stepped out of the changing room again, this time without his tee-shirt at least and this time in a soft pastel green dress.

Mark and Ralph looked at each other like men condemned which only changed a little when Steve walked into the store with his mother.

"Steve!" Ralph said to Mark nodding towards the direction of the front of the store. Mark's back was to the doors but he used the mirror and nodded. Safety in numbers Mark thought. Steve's face mirrored the other two boys. Mark was suddenly glad he was at least this far and clearly Ralph was just as glad.

"Hi Carol!" Ralph's mother said coming out of the changing room holding the lemon yellow dress as she added, "Isn't this wild?"

"That's a word! This has got to be the most unusual day I've had in recent memory." Carol said taking Sandy's hand.

"Ralph is a size eight!" Sandy said proudly.

"Seven for Mark." Carol said sounding as if she too was bragging.

"Really. How sweet this is." Sandy said before turning back to her son Ralph as she added, "Mirror honey."

"Mom, this one fits!" Ralph said.

"Mirror!" Sandy said again pointing to the large mirror set against the wall.

"Mom why do I need to try it on! Can't we just take this stuff home?" Mark said impatiently. He wanted to get out of there. He didn't want to wear the dress, not there, not in front of a growing audience of girls and their mothers who were no longer looking on covertly.

"It's got to fit! Look honey, we've got to do this so just try hanging on OK?" Mark's mother said as she transferred the slip to the arm holding the dress so she could pat Mark's shoulder as she added, "Besides, we've still got to get your shoes."

"Oh this is so wrong!" Mark said.

"I know honey! I just wish you boys hadn't teased that poor boy. Perhaps this wouldn't have been necessary." Mark's mother said.

"I didn't, never did." Mark said sounding frustrated.

"Did you ever try and stop any of the other boys from teasing?" Mark's mother asked.

"No?" Mark said.

"That might have made the difference. Oh well, that's water under the bridge now. Come on and let's get this over with." Mark's mother said nodding to Sandy who nodded back.

"I asked Ralph the same question. Seems to me that if only a couple of them had stepped in just once this wouldn't be necessary now." Sandy said.

"Brother's keeper!" Mark's mother said with resignation in her voice.

"Mom?" Mark said at the threshold of the changing room.

"Exactly!" Sandy said as she moved off with her son for those mirrors while adding: "Do you like this one honey? I think I'd rather see you in the puffy sleeves rather than straps."

Mark entered the soft bubble gum pink room and found himself surrounded by more mirrors less the area on the door to hang the dresses.

"Clothes!" Mark's mother said.

Mark started to undress... Slowly, painfully if you read his face as his mother eased the slip from its hanger. It was strapped to the satiny bodice that flowed easily to a grouping of petticoats as full as the dress. The rustling never stopped Mark noted.

"Why can't they make this more quiet?" Mark asked as he stepped out of his jeans.

"Well, for one thing this is taffeta honey and most taffetas rustle. For another thing this is something we sort of enjoy. A kind of spotlight if you will. Feeds a little into our senses when we're feeling pretty." Mark's mother said smiling apologetically as she added, "It's a girl thing."

Mark was silent as he lifted his tee shirt off laying it now with his jeans.

"Life your arms honey." Mark's mother said as she gathered the slip. It was the same sound as the trees in fall next to his window or when he gathered them for the bag after raking the yard. Mark saw the tiny bow in pink attached to the slips front just below the delicate lace added to the edges. The fabric of the top shimmered in the light.

"Why so many layers?" Mark asked for want of something to keep his mind off what was happening.

"One layer, the softest, rest against your legs so the tulle doesn't tickle them. The middle layer is netting to give the slip body and make the dress flair out and the top layer is silky smooth like it is so the dress slids over it." Mark's mother said fighting that smile again. Her hands were shaking slightly as she eased the slip over her son's head.

Carol fought all sorts of urges, some of which to hug her son for the sake of his anguish, some of it to hug her pretend daughter just for the joy of it. That urge came on her as a thought as the slip fell around him. This had to be the most delightful day she'd had in a long time. Imagining what it would be like having a girl was being answered in these seconds.

"How's if feel?" Mark's mother asked.

"Feel! It feels gross! How is it supposed to feel?" Mark said in anger as the slip settled around him. That wasn't exactly true but he wasn't going to admit to any of that.

"No honey, I mean fit? Is it tight or too loose?" Mark's mother asked.

"Fine.... It fits me just fine!" Mark said in frustration as he pulled his hands up. He'd lowered them and instantly they fell into the folds of the slip. He didn't want to touch it. Yet, for a second, a very brief moment he did. He had. He couldn't help himself but he wasn't going there he decided.

"Dress!" Mark's mother said as she began setting the dress up for Mark to wear. It buttoned down the back from the neck and like the slip, there was more than one layer under the skirts. At least two at the top. Mark wasn't sure.

"Is that the same stuff as the slip?" Mark asked simply because the dress was also rustling. It was almost but the taffeta in a pink was almost the same color as the room but covered in a blush organdy that softened the sparkle of the dress. Under the skirt another layer of taffeta his mother said so it would be just as slippery as the skirts of his slip.

"I love these gathers!" Mark's mother said forgetting that Mark might not. The dress was gathered in what was clearly more panels or gores than necessary which was reason enough for the slip. The organza skirt sitting on top of the taffeta skirt gathered a little bit more. The satiny top ended in puffy sleeves that were edge in the same satiny material but see though from the pit of the arm to that edging. Extremely puffed his mother noted happily.

"Arms again!" Mark's mother said. Mark had ignored her remark about those gathers. She could love every bit of that dress but not Mark, Mark decided as he lifted his arms.

The puffed sleeves tugged at his elbows as they began clinging to his upper arms. The dress itself fell past his face and onto the slip as his mother fluffed it free to set on top. The weight of the dress pressed Mark's slips against his legs as the nylon lining of the top slid over the nylon of the slip. It suddenly dawned on Mark why they were called slips and the dress moved easily over it.

"Do you guys really like this stuff?" Mark asked as the dress and slip rustled loudly. Carol began fussing with his puffed sleeves so they sat even. It was nearly a perfect fit and Carol swooned over the look of it on her son. If he had long hair at the moment it would have been nearly perfect.

"Of course! This is what being a girl is all about honey." Mark's mother said ignoring how the words might sound to Mark.

"Do you... I mean do you get different when you wear the fancy stuff?" Mark asked for no other reason than to ease his discomfort and another urge flowing under that.

Mark couldn't help but acknowledge the feel of it at some level and that came again when he moved a leg. The taffeta resting against the skin above his knee registered the sensation and his knees, front and back, did the same. There was also that movement over his chest and back.

"Feminine! That's the word you're looking for honey and yes, we get very girlish when we get to wear stuff like this. The prettier the better for most of us. I don't suppose that's going to make any sense for you though is it?" Mark's mother said.

"Do you think Don Venuto's son feels this the same way a girl does?" Mark asked.

"Do you think he dresses like this?" Mark's mother asked.

"I don't know? I mean he kind of moves like a girl does. You know sort of sissy or something." Mark said.

"He was born that way but it doesn't necessarily mean he is that way?" Mark's mother said.

"Sissy?" Mark said.

"Being effeminate doesn't mean he wants to be a girl. It just means he's effeminate. Not a fair word to use for a boy even if it seems true. He might be more macho than you even." Mark's mother said.

"Not likely! Mom, he throws a ball like a girl does!" Mark said remember gym class.

"That's just physical. Imagine you now, dressed like this. I mean technically.... You being a boy wearing a dress makes you a sissy then right?" Mark's mother said.

"But I'm not doing this because I like it?" Mark said.

"And what if he's not doing it because he likes it? What if he can't help it?" Mark's mother asked.

"Not the same!" Mark said.

"Well, not exactly the same but then again, it is only in the senses. I mean you now can't help the way you look either, right?" Mark's mother asked.

"That's for sure." Mark said.

"And those girls out there looking at you. Made you uncomfortable didn't it?" Mark's mother asked.

"Definitely." Mark said.

"So, in a way you're kind of sharing the same feelings that boy has I'll bet. Only you don't have to do this every day and he does." Mark's mother noted.

"That would be so tough!" Mark said.

"I'd say that's most likely true. Now turn around so I can button this up." Mark's mother said smiling. Her son was catching on she mused.

"It fits!" Mark said not seeing the point of buttoning the dress.

"Not until it's closed around you honey." Mark's mother said as she began closing the buttons.

Mark was silent standing there with his mother at his back. He was facing the far mirror and avoiding the look of the dress that now hid the slips under it. It flared past the distance of a doorway and Mark wondered over that imagining moving around the living room and not hitting anything sitting on tables.

"How do you move in these things?" Mark asked.

"Move?" Mark's mother asked as she reached the last button above Mark's bottom.

"You know, how do you keep from hitting things?" Mark asked and added, "with the skirt out like it is?"

"You get used to wearing these things and aware of the distance. Put your arms down over your skirts." Mark's mother said.

"Why?" Mark asked standing there with his arms folded against his chest.

"Going to show you a trick we girls learn." Mark's mother said.

Mark lowered his hands into the folds of his dress and didn't loose the feeling that rose up in him as his fingers touched the organdy that flowed over them.

"Now what?" Mark asked feeling uncomfortable over the feelings he had.

"When you are wearing a dress like this you can sort of feel how far out it is with your hands. Notice how they are resting at an angle? Sort of like walking with something wide in those hands so you know pretty much where the edge is. Can you sense that?" Mark's mother asked.

"Yes, sort of I guess." Mark said.

"Anyway, you get a feel for it after a time in these things." Mark's mother noted with a smile.

"OK, so it fits!" Mark said glad to be past this part.

"Hold on, I need to tie the sash before you step out?" Mark's mother said.

"Step out? Mom, I don't need to step out. I'm not trying on any more dresses and I don't care what this looks like on. Besides, we've got mirror in here." Mark said.

"All part of the process!" Mark's mother said.

"Process?" Mark repeated.

"Honey, in a way this is sort of a lesson or at least I think it is. I think the Don is making a point having you guys all doing this and what's the point of it if you don't go though all of the steps?" Carol said.

"You think this is right?" Mark asked.

"I'm not sure. I didn't at first but I'm thinking, as bad as it is for you guys, it's a pretty good way of showing you what it's like to be scorned, laughed at and teased over something you have no control over. Right?" Mark's mother asked.

"I guess so, but it doesn't make it right." Mark said.

"Probably not but we can't change that and there are still these steps to get through. Besides, you still need shoes." Mark's mother said and added, "and the panties to match."

"Mom, how are they going to know I'm not wearing panties?" Mark asked.

"I think, given what I know of the Don so far, that he's going to know one way or another." Mark's mother said.

"Mom, I don't understand that part at all?" Mark said.

"Me neither. I suppose it's another part of this humiliation the Don wants you guys to go through and frankly I don't think that part is fair either."

"That part? You think this part is fair?" Mark asked as his mother fused with the long strip of sash she was fashioning into a giant bow at the small of his back.

"In some ways, yes, if you want to know the truth." Mark's mother said.

"Thanks." Mark said sarcastically.

"I said in some ways!" Mark's mother said before adding, "there. Now, let's go into the light and see how this looks."

"Do we have to?" Mark asked thinking of Ralph and how he looked standing there in the middle of that store with those girls looking on.

"Afraid so." Mark's mother said as she moved to the swinging doors.

"Mom wait!" Mark said looking anguish over the prospects of going out there as Ralph had.

His mother assumed he was nervous about stepping out of the changing room.

"Honey, what if I told you that everyone in that store already knows why you're here?" Mark's mother said smiling at her son.

"No they don't! Those girls think I'm some kind of sissy!" Mark said.

"Actually, the woman that helped us said just the opposite! She said that you boys, the ones she's helped already at least, are really quite brave for doing this. She also said that the other sales ladies know, obviously, and so do most of the girls out there waiting." Mark's mother said.

"No she didn't!" Mark said defiantly.

"Honey, I'm just telling you what she said."

"Really? She said that?" Mark asked.

"That's what she told me when she was pulling that card out. That's also when she said that the girls, at least some of them, know what was going on." Mark's mother said.

"So they don't think we're sissies then?" Mark asked.

"Nope! And why would they? I mean, you are going to a costume party! Honey, this isn't all that much different if you were getting that dress for Halloween." Mark's mother said with a wave of her hand.

"I wouldn't wear this stuff even for Halloween!" Mark said with conviction.

"Not even if I'd asked you to?" Mark's mother said.

"Would you?" Mark asked suddenly curious.

"If I thought I could get away with it? Yes!" Mark's mother noted with a smile.

"You're serious?" Mark asked.

"Absolutely." Mark's mother noted.

"Mom?" Mark asked but in a subdued voice.

"What honey?" Mark's mother asked also changing her tone.

"Do you ever wish you'd had a girl?" Mark asked.

"Heavens no! Not for a minute!" Mark's mother said.

"Never?" Mark asked smiling slightly.

"OK, perhaps in the beginning, but only because you had gotten so many pretty things before you were born." Mark's mother noted.

"Pretty things? Like what?" Mark asked curiously.

"Dresses sweetheart. About half of the clothes you got were dresses of one sort or another." Mark's mother said.

"You're kidding?" Mark said.

"Not really. Some of the woman gave me dresses." Mark's mother said.

"What did you do with them?" Mark asked looking at his mother with a curious face.

"I gave them away." Mark's mother answered but smiled.

"You dressed me up didn't you?" Mark said.

"OK, a few times but that was simply for curiosities sake and you were a baby." Mark's mother said.

"Really?" Mark asked feeling odd over that confession and not really expecting it.

"Every mother does that at one time or another." Mark's mother said.

"So you didn't want a girl?" Mark asked.

"I did and I didn't. Was simply hoping for a baby that had all of his toes and fingers." Mark's mother said laughing and added, "besides, at the moment, I'm pretending you are your brother's twin sister."

"MOM!" Mark said protesting that joke she'd just made.

"Honey, will you relax a little? Goodness gracious. This can't be that bad, now can it?" Mark's mother asked.

"Bad enough!" Mark said but he said it smiling.

"Does that smile mean just a little then?" Mark's mother asked.

"I'm not admitting to anything." Mark said.

"Good enough. Now what say we do the mirror thing." Mark's mother noted.

"And those girls.... Those girls out there know I'm doing this for a party and not because I'm some sort of sissy boy?" Mark asked as his mother pushed the door open.

"That's what I've been told." Mark's mother said as she stood by the door waiting for Mark to walk out.

"Mom wait!" Mark said.

"What now honey?" Mark's mother asked.

"I'm wearing guys shoes and socks." Mark said suddenly feeling odd in his own shoes. Ralph looked silly in his tee-shirt, shoes and socks. Actually, Mark thought it looked worse or even more sissy for some reason.

"Would you like to wear the shoes first?" Mark's mother asked.

"Yes." Mark said.

"OK, wait here and let me so see what they've got." Mark's mother said as she stepped out of the room.

Mark took that moment to turn towards the mirror at his left which reflected the back of his dress from the other mirror. His mom was gone for some number of minutes and Mark took that time to admire or at least look at his outfit in more detail. He almost wished he was wearing the panties.

"OK, I've got three pair based on your sizes. Helen recommended these socks." Mark's mother said interrupting Mark's gaze. He blushed a little getting caught like that and hoped his mother hadn't noticed him being so prissy just then.

"Had to be lace!" Mark said taking the lace socks from his mom.

"Of course! Now be careful when you sit. Gather your dress under you so it doesn't get wrinkled." Mark's mother said.

"Gather how?" Mark asked.

"Honey, have you ever watched girls sit?" Mark's mother asked.

"Yes? I mean I guess so?" Mark said.

"Then just do the same thing when you sit." Mark's mother said holding back any details on how Mark was supposed to do that. She was a little curious over him knowing or not.

"Like this?" Mark said as he ran both hands down his skirt as he sat.

"Exactly like that." Mark's mother said confirming something but not sure what it was yet. She too was wishing she had him put panties on first. She decided she'd push a little as she added, "try those shoes on and see how they fit, and I'll be right back."

Mark bent and picked up the first box opening to a pair of white patent leather Mary Jane shoes. They were clearly meant for a little girl as Mark slipped the left shoe over his left foot. They were a bit big which made him put the sock on. Almost just right Mark noted with the lace sock on. He did the other foot as the door opened again.