Phoenix Rising

Sometime in the night I managed to drag myself up to my room. When I really woke up, the candle was beside me, about half used and snuffed out. I was still wearing the lingerie and my clothes were on the table. I was covered in cum. I was quite literally covered in cum as I had rubbed it all over my body. It had dried on my face and neck. I felt it on my chest and abs as I sat up and even felt it on my hips and legs. I had never been so grateful that the sun had woken me up before anyone in the house had a chance to see me. I was equally grateful for the water and washrag I kept in my room. I stripped off the lingerie and rinsed myself off. I took a moment to clean the necklace I still wore as well. I put the lacy things in the water and put on ordinary underwear, only to have the boxer briefs tear beyond any meaningful use.

"Damnit," I said before tossing them in a corner. I put on a pair of shorts commando and washed the lingerie in the bowl. I washed my face, and hoped I got all the dried cum off.

"Phoenix!" Mom called from below my room. "Baby, are you up?"

"Yeah mom!" I called back scrubbing the stains as best as I could while hoping I didn't tear the fabric at the same time. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Everything ok?"

"Just tore another pair of underwear."

"Ok, I'll see if I can find any of yours in the clean laundry."

I breathed a sigh of relief as the cum stains came out of the lingerie. I rang them dry as Mom had shown me and lay them out to dry in a corner of the room where no one, hopefully, would notice.

I threw on a shirt and went downstairs for breakfast. I didn't particularly like my clothes and I didn't particularly like my body so I didn't really pay attention to what I wearing until Paris wolf whistled at me from the kitchen.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you serious? Did you not look at yourself this morning?"

"No. When do I ever?" I walked past her to get some eggs and bacon but she grabbed me by the arm and took me to the bathroom we no longer used because it had no running water. "Seriously?"

The bathroom was upstairs next to her room, and it looked like all she used it for these days was shaving her legs and looking in the mirror.

"Look at yourself Baby Bro," she said to me. "I mean seriously."

I looked in the mirror and froze. "The fuck?"

"Yeah," she said.

My first thought was that I hadn't washed the cum off and that was made me seem ... different, but that wasn't the case. My face was just simply, softer. I couldn't explain it any better than that. My t-shirt was thin and threadbare enough that you could make out the shape of my nipples through them. They seemed oddly large and puffy. The necklace over my shirt was there, but somehow dodged attention. It made me seem more feminine and didn't attract notice because it looked like it belonged. The shirt hung on me loosely enough that there was no clearly defined shape to me aside from 'slim' and it stopped just below the waist of my jean shorts but the flare of my hips, while always noticeable, was now obvious. My shorts, which were falling apart and ratty and a bit too small for me, looked extra small on me that day. My legs looked like they went on for miles below the leg which was barely below the seam.

"Why the fuck are my shorts so fucking short!" I screamed.

Paris slapped my ass. "That's why." She turned me to the side and sure enough I had an ass that was closer to my Mom's or Paris than it was the one I was expecting to see.

"For fuck's shit! When did this happen?"

Paris giggled. "For fuck's shit?"

"Paris!"

"Ok, ok." She took a breath and calmed herself down. "But still, you look hot. You could've turned so many heads with this look."

"You're my sister," I said, "You shouldn't call your little brother hot, especially when he looks like a girl." I looked in the mirror and sighed. I loved the look at the same time that I hated it. I looked like I couldn't make up my mind about who or what I wanted to be. "Fuck it. At least I don't have to be embarrassed about going out of the house, or meeting someone in public."

Paris laughed. "True enough." She threw an arm around me and pulled me out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen. "Let's get some breakfast."

As we walked together I was very much aware of her closeness. The feel of her heat against me was enough to set my cock on the way to hardening and I tried to think of something else, anything else. No way my cock could hide in my newly short shorts. We heard Dad complaining once again that there was no coffee and I was grateful that I had never really gotten into it before the fallout.

Mom was telling him that there was that and plenty more we'd have to learn to live without as time passed by so quit complaining.

"I know it isn't the look you'd pick for yourself," Paris said quietly just to me, "but you do look good."

I shrugged. "Like a birthday, does it even matter anymore?"

"Yeah," She said quietly. "I think it does." She kissed me on the cheek, but it was a soft, lingering kiss. I never knew that a kiss on my cheek could be so amazing.

Mentally I shook myself. What the hell was wrong with me that a kiss on the cheek was getting my blood up? As much as I loved my sister, and I mean I really loved her no matter what I said, a peck on the cheek shouldn't have the same impact on me as when she pressed her braless tits into me. Now my cock was scant centimeters from popping out to say hello.

I thought about ice, coldness. I thought about pigs in the mud. I thought about the fallout and all the people who hadn't made it and all the people who were suffering right now.

That did it. My hard-on went away like smoke in a hurricane and we entered the kitchen for breakfast. Either the change that Paris and I had noticed had been gradual and caught us both by surprise, or else Mom and Dad were too caught up in their own things to notice it. Mom looked at me as I sat down and helped myself to some eggs and bacon. Farm life has its benefits after all.

"Bad news, Phee." There was a slight pause and hitch in her voice that I almost missed. I hid the shiver of pleasure that it gave me. When was the last time she had called me 'Phee' outside of my fantasies?

Of course my thrill at her use of the nickname was tampered by what bad news could mean. "What is it Mama?"

I hadn't meant to use my baby name for her. Like Mommy, I hadn't called her Mama in years. She shook some water off her hands. "None of your underwear survived the last washing."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh shit Mom. You scared me there. I thought Zombies had infested the south fields or something."

We laughed at that. Even Dad choked on his breakfast.

"Whatever," I said, "no big deal. I can go commando."

"What about all the extra clothes downstairs?" Paris asked. "There was plenty of underwear down there."

Mom hesitated. I jumped in.

"It's all women's underwear." I said.

"So?" Paris asked. She looked at me meaningfully and I knew what she was leaving unsaid. You have a woman's ass now don't you? You halfway look the part already don't you? Why not add some nice underthings to the ensemble? What she actually said was "It's not like you're going to run into someone who will bully you about it."

I pretended to think about it and shook my head. "Even if they fit, which we don't know they will, I looked at them when we first went down there. It's all lace and frilly stuff. I can't work around the farm or go hunting in that stuff." I couldn't tell them my secret. I didn't know why it mattered. Here we were at the end of the world and I didn't want my family, the only living people I saw or was likely to see, to know that I liked to wear women's clothes. So stupid.

"Tell you what," Paris said. "after dinner we'll take them all up to your room. That way if you change or mind or want to give it a try, no big deal, ok?"

Dad looked at Mom with one raised eyebrow. Mom was slightly flushed -- the hot water from the dishes always raised the ambient temperature. Her hands were busy with doing the dishes even though it was Dad's turn to do them, and she quickly turned her face away from me. Paris looked so eager that I thought she was going to move the clothes without me if I refused. I shrugged. What difference did it make?

"Ok." I said. "I'll help you move them after dinner."

We did the work we needed doing without any extra fuss. I wasn't the only person with clothing issues as Dad tore a seam in his shirt from top to bottom. He took it off and spent the rest of the day working shirtless. My Mother and Sister were hot. No doubt that they turned heads and everyone paid attention to them when they walked into a room. Paris was once again braless and her tits swayed and bounced with every movement she took. It was a force of will to keep my eyes on my work whenever she was around. Likewise my Mom, even though she wore a bra, her's was so threadbare that she might as well have been walking around topless and more than once I knelt close to the ground as my cock sprung down past the leg of my shorts.

My Dad however... I knew was good looking but it never really registered until I saw him that day with his shirt off. He was muscled and the sweat glistened on his body like oil in one of those cheap rags they used to sell in the gas stations. His arms were powerful, his chest muscles rippled; I counted his abs as easily as his arms and damn he had a fine ass.

Paris was staring too and our eyes met over the curve of my father's ass. We were startled to catch one another, but she smiled and fanned herself. I grinned and returned the gestured. We quietly laughed and went back to work while I tried to will my boner away.

After dinner and dishes it was still light enough that we only needed one extra candle to move the clothes to my attic room. It took more than one trip to get it all done though. On the first trip up, I deliberately dropped the box I carried and spilled the contents all over the place where I had left the lingerie to dry that morning.

"Come on, Phee." Paris put her own load down carefully and joined me on the floor to pick up the mess I had made.

I blushed at the name. I liked it. I really did. But I didn't say anything while we cleaned up the mess and got the other clothes upstairs. When we were done Paris gave me a fierce hug. Once again I smelled the honey and spring water that was her own unique scent. I felt her breasts press into me and I felt the necklace and charm press into my own chest. I felt my nipples, which had felt puffy and sensitive all day, scrape against my shirt and against her nipples.

She took a half step back before I got too hard. "Try it," she said. "Just try it." She kissed me lightly on the lips and my heart skipped a beat. "It's late. I should get to bed. I might stay up reading a bit though. If you need anything."

I nodded. She went downstairs and I sat in my room in the dark. Before long though, I saw a faint light coming up from the floor. For three years I had lived in that attic room, and I had never looked at the floor before. Never close enough to see the gaps in the floor boards or by the wall. I went over to the corner where I had hidden my lingerie before and found where the light was coming through. Pressing my eye down, I looked straight down into Paris's room. She had three candles lit, far more than she needed to read for a bit. I watched as she went through her underwear drawer for a thong that was too see through to be called modest, and a matching bra. She disappeared into her bathroom and I figured she was taking time to get changed. I had a decision to make. Was I going to watch? Was I going to get changed to watch?

I picked up the same red bra and panties from last night. Was it my imagination or did the panties fit better than last night? They fit well either way. Maybe I had just stretched it out the right way last night. The bralette scraped against my nipples and I had to hold back a moan. I felt so fucking sexy it was driving me mad. But I didn't make a sound. I crawled back to the gap in the floorboards and looked down. Paris walked back into her room as I got into position.

She looked amazing in the simple thong and bra. She walked around her room, almost without purpose. I watched her breasts bounce in her flimsy bra and her ass sway in the threadbare thong. She was such a purely sexual creature in that moment. I was so hard I was afraid of tearing the panties. I didn't touch myself, not yet, I just lay there looking. Watching. She moved until she was beside her bed, right below the spot where I was watching her. She looked up. She looked right at the place where I was.

Could she see the gap? Could she see me? She didn't say anything. Her eyes didn't give anything away. She just looked at the gap and I wondered if she had noticed the gap before and was trying to see it from her side. I wanted to move, to get out of the way in case she could see me, but I didn't want any sudden changes in shadows to give me away if she could see the gap.

She smiled, only barely and went around blowing out the candles. Her room was dark enough with the curtains closed that I couldn't see anything. But I heard her walking around her room. What was she doing?

Someone was coming up the steps. I panicked. I quickly ran into bed and got under the covers. I wasn't ready for anyone to see me dressed. There was a knock on the door and then it opened without waiting for a response.

"Phee?" It was Paris.

"Paris?" I said. "What's up?"

I did not have curtains in the attic and I could see her in the moonlight. She was still wearing the same bra and thong. This close I could make out her thin pubic hair through the fading material of her thong. I could see her nipples through the bra and I saw them standing proud and at attention. I felt my own nipples harden against my bralette. They hadn't been that sensitive the previous night.

"Can you see me? Is there enough light for you?"

"It's a bit dark." I said. What was going on? Did she want me to see her? "What's up?" I asked.

She smiled, picked up a chair and put it beside my bed, but not too close. "Just watch." She leaned down and kissed me on the lips, this time longer than before. It was a good thing I was laying in bed or I would have fallen over with that kiss. "Happy birthday Baby brother."

She stepped away from the bed and began dancing around the chair. She swayed her hips to music I could imagine. She exuded sex and sexuality. I had never seen anything so hot in my life, even before fallout when I had looked at porn it didn't hold a candle to my sister now. My cock was rock hard at the sight of her, and when she slipped one strap of her bra off, I felt my cock twitch. When she slipped the other strap off her shoulder I felt my precum drip onto my belly. She kneeled down beside the bed, her back to me and pulled her hair to one side I thought I was going to faint.

"Go ahead," she whispered. "Take it off for me Baby Phee."

My hand was surprisingly steady when I unclasped her bra. She didn't try to hold it up. I watched it fall to the floor. As she stood, her back still to me, I felt her ass checks rub against my face. She was hot. I thought her skin was going to burn me and I wanted it. She took a half step forward and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and hungry. What did she see when she looked at me?

"I want to give you something to think about when you play with yourself," she said, "I'd like to watch. Can I watch you?" She turned and sat in the chair. Her naked breasts on full display for the first time and they were every bit as magnificent as I would have imagined them to be. She ran her hands over her breasts. She played with them and stuck one in her mouth to suck on her own nipple. She closed her eyes and moaned around her own tit. "Let me watch you too?" she asked. "Please?"

I couldn't say no. Not when she was doing this for me. I pulled the blankets off and showed her my body, clad in the red lingerie.

"Fuck that's hot. You are so hot." She ran one hand over her panties, pressing into her pussy through the dampening material while the other played with her tit. "Tell me Baby Phee, have you ever played with yourself? Have you touched yourself the way a woman does? Does my Baby sister know how to touch her woman's body?"

Each question she asked me made my cock twitch in my panties. The odd rightness of what she said, the rightness of being "baby sis," made me tremble with excitement. I was so excited I couldn't even speak. Paris just kept on talking.

"Let me show you how to play with yourself little sis." My heart jumped at what she said. "Do like I do. First your breasts."

She took both hands and put them on her tits. She massaged and pulled on her nipples, urging me to do the same. I watched her absolutely mesmerized and unable to move. "Go on," she said, "play with your titties."

I did. I was hesitant at first. Only my fingertips caressed my chest over my bra. "My tities are so much smaller than yours," I said. I pitched my voice just a bit higher, high enough to be confused for genuinely female.

"Small titties have their own advantage," she said. She stopped pressing her breasts and let her fingertips play over her areola. "Try this. Pull your bra down so you can reach your nipples better."

I mimicked her actions and gasped in please. "Oh that's so good. I didn't know it could feel so good."

"Don't stop," she said "but lick one finger and use it to play."

"Ohhhh," I moaned as I obeyed.

"Yes," she said. "Does that feel good baby sis?"

"It feels so good Perry." It was the nickname I had for her years ago. Her baby name, that Mom and Dad used once upon a time. "What do I do next?"

"Take your hands, both hands, and move them downwards. Play with your hips, your belly, don't touch your clit yet," she said. "I know you're already wound up, but not yet."

"But Perry," I said, "I don't have a clit. I'm... different."

"It's ok Baby Sis." She lifted her hips to pull down her thong and I stared at her beautiful pussy. Her bush was naturally fine, and in no way obscured the view of her full pussy lips. They were wet, engorged. They opened like a flower and I could smell them from my bed.

"You're so beautiful," I said. "I love you Perry. You're so beautiful."

"I love you too Phee," she pushed her panties the rest of the way down. "Now take off your panties. Let's see how different you are."

I did as she told me. I didn't need to pretend my hesitation. This was a line. We had crossed so many already, and even with all that I was still ashamed of my fetish. I still hesitated to show her. What I wasn't sure about though, was if I was ashamed because I was a man who got off on wearing women's clothing and fantasizing about his mother and sister and yes, even his father? Or was I ashamed because I wanted to be a girl, and I had a cock and balls instead of a pussy?

"You're so beautiful Baby Phee," Paris said. "So hot. And I love you so much. Don't be afraid." She leaned forward. "Do you want me to help you?" She placed one hand on my hip, right on the waist band of my panties. Her hand was so hot against my skin I thought she might burn the panties off. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't speak. I just nodded.

She came closer, kneeled by my bed and grabbed my panties with both hands. "lift," she whispered. I felt my whole body tremble as I did as she instructed. She pulled the panties off me slowly enough that I could feel them peeling away from my hips, cock and ass. I felt them rub across my hips as she pulled them down until my cock sprang free, standing at attention. But it didn't end. She pulled the panties further down, letting the material rub against my legs. My cock was dripping so much precum I could nearly convince myself that I was a woman, wet with arousal. When she was done she brought the panties to her face to smell them.