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Nom de Plume: More Family Values
Posted by: Anonymous on Sunday, January 25, 2004 - 07:41 PM Printer Friendly
A sequel to Family Values...or is it a prequel?
More Family Values

More Family Values

© 2004 by Nom de Plume


“I’ll be home late, Jerry. Make sure you finish your homework before you watch TV or play with your gameboy.”

Jerry Parker looked up from the book on his desk and smiled at his mother, who was dressed to the nines for her book club meeting. “Okay, Mom. Have a good time. When will Dad be home?”

“Past your bedtime. He’s flying in late from New York tonight. We can all go out for pizza tomorrow night if he’s not too tired.” Jerry’s father had just made captain after nine years as a co-pilot and three years before that as a flight attendant, and although he was often exhausted when he got home from a long trip, the amount of free time he had to spend with Jerry more than made up for the lost weekends and holidays.

As it happened, on this particular night Jerry was glad that his father was out of town, and he could barely restrain himself as he waited for his mother to leave the house. He waited until he heard the car back out of the driveway and the garage door opener finish its cycle before he got up from his desk and tore off his jeans and sweatshirt.

When he was stripped down to his underwear, Jerry stopped to look at himself in the full length mirror in the hall bathroom. A seventh grader on the brink of puberty, and increasingly aware of strange stirrings, he still had a light coat of body fat, and the peach fuzz on his face and legs was barely discernible. His hair was almost shoulder length, and although it was usually tied back in a pony tail for sports, tonight it fell in soft curls around his neck.

Jerry stepped out of his briefs and tucked himself between his legs. He felt a sudden rush of excitement as he stared back at his emasculated reflection, and he was shaking with anticipation as he hurried into his mother’s closet. Reaching into her hamper, he found the body briefer which he had spied during a quick reconnaissance while she was making dinner. With quivering fingers he pulled it on, fished some knee highs out of the dirty clothes, and stuffed them into the cups.

His penis jumped when he turned and looked at himself in the mirror on the closet door. Even to his knowing eyes, Jerry was suddenly, unmistakably, female. His heart was pounding as he dumped out the remaining clothes in the hamper and tried to find something to wear. A white cotton blouse caught his eye, and he held it in his trembling hand while he sifted through the rest of the clothing.

Finally he found what he was looking for. His mother had worn a dress to church on Sunday, and he found her slip and stockings balled up in the bottom of the pile. His heart was racing as he untangled the soft beige pantyhose and plopped down on the closet carpet. With infinite care, he slowly began to ease them on, feeling sheer delight as the light from the bedroom glistened off his shimmering legs. When he had the nylons over his knees, he stood back up and pulled them all the way on. Then he picked up his mother’s slip and bundled it over his head, shivering in excitement as the cool fabric cascaded down his eager body. The lacy hem fell into place a few inches above his knees, and it rode up his silky thighs when he reached down to get the blouse off the floor.

Jerry took a few deep breaths before he pulled the sleeves over his arms and began to fumble with the pearl white buttons, reversed from the buttons on his own shirts. Jerry didn’t mind. He was in heaven as he watched the girl in the mirror button up her blouse. How many nights had he dreamed of something like this, tossing and turning in bed, yearning for a chance to explore his secret desires? He didn’t know where this might lead, and he was afraid to think about the possible consequences. All he knew was that for as long as he could remember, he had fantasized about what it would be like to be a girl. As his body inched towards puberty, his fantasies took on a sense of urgency, and tonight he was determined to play them out.

When his blouse was buttoned up to the neck, he put the rest of the dirty clothes back in the hamper and started sifting though the hangers for his mother’s pleated gray skirt. He had often envied her when she wore it, wondering how it must feel to have a skirt flip around your knees, and he was about to find out. When he spied it on its skirt hanger, he made a note of where to return it before he released the clasps and held it in front of himself. “Here goes,” he said to himself as he stepped into it, and he quickly pulled it up to his waist and reached back for the zipper. When it was fastened, he lifted it up and tugged his blouse and slip down over his nylons, just as he remembered his mother doing when he accompanied her into the ladies room as a very young boy. Truth be told, that was his earliest childhood memory, one which during years of therapy in later life would take on great significance.

Skirted at last, Jerry paused to savor the moment. How wonderful it felt to have stockings on his legs! How wonderful they made his legs look, so sheer and silky! How would it look and feel when he put on a pair of high heels? The walls of the closet were lined with shoe boxes, and Jerry kneeled down in his nylons and searched for the right pair. There they were, her black pumps, with sturdy 2” heels that shouldn’t be too hard to get around in. Suddenly Jerry had a twinge of anxiety. They looked so small! What if they didn’t fit? His fears vanished when he stepped into the shoes, which slipped easily over his sheer nylons. He took a few tentative steps before he realized that there was nothing to it.

Jerry Parker was radiant when he emerged from his mother’s closet, lingering in front of the mirror over his parents’ dresser before walking into their bathroom. He watched in delight as his skirt swirled around his legs, and when he sat down at his mother’s vanity, he carefully smoothed it behind him and practiced crossing his legs, again and again, relishing the sensation as his nylons slid together. He opened the drawers and found a tube of pale pink lipstick. Gingerly, he applied just a touch to his pouting lips. As if by magic, his face went from boyish to pretty. The transformation was complete. Time stood still as Jerry tiptoed downstairs.

* * *

Captain Parker eased back on the twin throttles and pulled the control yoke a fraction of an inch towards his lap, just enough to flare the Boeing 737 into a perfect touchdown. As the captain’s hands and feet deftly worked the controls, applying brakes and thrust reversers, his copilot had to admit to himself that nobody could handle an airplane any better. Not that he would ever admit it aloud.

Jerry’s father had earned the grudging respect of his peers the hard way. Taking a most unusual path, he had joined the airline as a flight attendant, taking flying lessons in his free time while struggling to support his wife and son. Every spare cent went towards logging the hours necessary to get his commercial license and jet ratings, until he finally amassed enough flying time to get his shot in the cockpit. Despite his obvious skill, he was openly disdained by most of the senior pilots, and regarded as an oddity by the junior pilots and flight attendants, not to mention airline management. If it hadn’t been for the unions, he would never have had a chance.

After the plane was at the gate and the routine paperwork attended to, Captain Parker headed out to the curb to catch the shuttle to the employee parking lot. Although he was slight of build, his navy blue uniform gave him an air of command, and his keen blue eyes and wrinkle-free face belied his forty years. He drew a few admiring glances from a group of young flight attendants, which were returned with a shy smile. A devoted husband and father, he hadn’t strayed in twelve years of marriage, and he wasn’t about to start now. When the shuttle pulled up beside his BMW, he thanked the driver, threw his flight bag and suitcase into the trunk, and headed for home.

He was just pulling onto the freeway when his car phone rang. He pushed the speaker button on the steering wheel. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

It was his wife. “Just got in the car. I’ll be home in half an hour. Anything wrong?”

“I’ll say. You need to have a talk with your son.”

* * *

When Jerry’s mother got home a few minutes earlier, she had been startled by the sight of a girl dashing up the stairs. All she had been able to make out was a blur of shapely legs beneath the whirling skirt of the fleeing stranger. “Who are you? she shouted. “Jerry, where are you?” When she heard the sound of a door slamming shut, she raced up the stairs and pounded on the door to her son’s room. “Jerry! Let me in!”

“No!” he shouted back, and the tone of her son’s voice startled her. Jerry was such an obedient child, and he’d never given his parents any serious trouble.

“Jerry, do you have a girl in there with you?”

There was a long pause, then Jerry said, “Leave us alone.”

“Just wait until your father gets home, young man.”

* * *

Jerry’s skirt was rippling around his knees as he trembled like a leaf in his bedroom. Totally preoccupied, he had completely lost track of time, and when he heard his mother opening the front door, all he could do was sprint for the stairs and try to make it back to his room before his mother saw him.

He thought he was too late, but evidently his mother hadn’t recognized him. What a break! Out of the frying pan and into the fire! Better to have his parents think he had a girl stashed in his room than to learn that he had been parading around the house in his mother’s clothes!

Could he get away with it? First things first. He fumbled with the buttons on his blouse, and it seemed to take forever for him to unfasten them all. Then he unzipped his skirt and peeled off his slip, stockings and body briefer. He kicked the clothes under his bed and put on his jeans and sweatshirt. What had he forgotten? The lipstick! That God he hadn’t messed around with the rest of his mother’s makeup. He found a black sock in his dirty clothes and rubbed furiously at his lips.

When he’d done the best he could, he sat down on his bed and tried to think. Had he left any evidence in his mother’s closet? He was pretty sure he put the rest of her dirty clothes back in her hamper, but the open shoebox on the floor would be a dead giveaway.

Another problem: his make-believe girlfriend was the perfect alibi, but what would happen when he opened his door and she was nowhere to be found? Coolly, he walked over to his window and slid it all the way up. It opened onto a roof above the front porch, and the branches of an overgrown beech tree curled to within six inches of the edge. So, his imaginary lover was an acrobat…he left the window open and was closing the curtains when he heard his father’s car in the driveway.

Jerry pulled back from the window and watched from behind the drawn curtains as his mother intercepted his father when he got out of his BMW. Soon the two of them were having an animated conversation at the end of the driveway. Without hesitation, Jerry grabbed the clothes from under his bed and raced into his parents’ bedroom. He stuffed the lingerie and blouse back into his mother’s hamper, put her shoes back into their shoebox, and reached for the skirt hanger. Has hands were shaking, and he wasted valuable time getting the skirt lined up on the clamps, then it was back in its place.

He was just in time. No sooner had he returned to his room than he heard his mother and father coming up the stairs.

* * *

When Jerry’s mother stuck her head in the window of her husband’s BMW, she was beside herself. “He’s got a girl in his room!”

“I didn’t even know he was interested in girls.”

“Well, there are apparently a lot of things we don’t know about him. He’s locked the door, and he won’t let me in.”

“Who’s the girl?”

“How do I know? She was running away from me when I walked in the door!”

Captain Parker switched off the ignition and got out of the car. His wife followed him to the end of the driveway, where a streetlight provided some illumination, and she was furious when she saw the smile on his face. “You think this is funny?”

“We always wondered how our boy would turn out. I guess now we know.”

“How can you approve of this?”

“I’m not saying I approve, and believe me, Jerry and I are going to have quite a talk. He’s going to get grounded for sure. But at least we know he’s a red-blooded American boy. I mean, what were you doing when you were his age?”

Mrs. Parker shook her head with a sad smile. “Playing with dolls and dresses.”

* * *

“Open the door, young man.”

Jerry instantly obeyed his father, and when he swung open the door, his parents barged into his room. “Where is she?” his mother demanded.

Jerry said nothing. His father stood with a stern look on his face while his mother looked in the closet, then got down on her knees and peeked under the bed. “Where is she hiding?”

A sudden breeze ruffled the curtains, and Jerry’s father crossed the room and stuck his head out the open window. “My God, who are you seeing, a Romanian gymnast?”

Jerry smiled. “No, Dad.”

His mother joined his father at the window. “Dear Lord,” she said. Then, turning back to Jerry, she asked, “Do we know her?”

“No.”

“What’s her name?”

“Not telling.”

“What do you mean? I want to know who was up here!”

“Sorry, Mom. But don’t worry. Nothing happened.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!”

Jerry’s father intervened. “Look, son, I can respect you for not wanting to get the girl in trouble. But what you have done here is way out of line. You’re going to be grounded for the rest of the school year. And I want you to know that we are both very disappointed in you. Now get to bed.”

* * *

Jerry lay back in his bed and thanked his lucky stars. He’d take getting grounded any day over shame and humiliation. It must have been shock therapy, because there was no way he was ever going to dress up in women’s clothing again!

How could he have let the time get away from him like that? He was having so much fun pretending to be a girl, he’d had an inspiration to make a video of himself. Not on his parents’ new digital recorder, they might find that…wasn’t there an old VHS machine and camera boxed up in the basement? Jerry had found it, and he was trying to figure out how to set it up when he heard his mother’s key in the front door.

Which reminded him. In his haste to make it back to his room, he had carried with him a video cassette he’d found in the box with the camera, and kicked under his bed with his mother’s clothes. He switched on the reading light and reached down under his bed until he found it. There was a piece of paper wrapped around it with a dry old rubber band, and it snapped in Jerry’s hands. The paper fluttered open, and Jerry recognized his mother’s handwriting: “Dear Kit, This is the most difficult letter I’ve ever written….”

By the author of The Jessica Project

Note: TG crossdress series rated-M
Read Family Values. More Family Values. Read Extended Family Values.
From the author of The Jessica Project.

More Family Values | Login/Create an account | 1 Comment
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Re: More Family Values (Score: 1)
by Jezzi on Jan 26, 2004 - 04:44 PM
(User info | Send a message) http://
VERY good tie-in to the original story! I hope there is a third about the three way conversation around the family dining room table sure to develop ??? Please :-)


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