ACT 2
Chapter 2
Jaime sat across from his Mother at the kitchen table, staring blankly ahead as she happily prattled on about her day to him. He could see her lips moving, watching her overly exaggerated hand-gestures, but he didn't catch a single word of it.
Instead his eyes were locked on the burgundy romper she'd put on after work. The very same one that he'd been wearing in her walk-in closet just hours before. He'd never seen her wear it before today, he thought he'd put everything back in order. Did he leave evidence? Did she know? Was it just a coincidence?
Jaime shifted in his seat, trying to adjust his jeans that were roughly scratching against his bare skin. Maybe he could have worn the panties just for comfort, but it was the principle of the matter! He'd finally stood up for himself, and he wasn't going to back down over some itchy jeans. He'd just have to go out and buy proper men's underwear tomorrow.
"Jaime, are you even listening?"
Jaime snapped back to reality, his Mother's annoyed face staring him down.
"Honestly, it's like you're trapped in your own little world sometimes..."
She looked down at her dinner, seemingly hurt at Jaime's inattentiveness. Jaime quickly stammered out an apology. He had been trapped in his own little world so to speak, and she'd helped him out of it, even if she didn't know that.
"I er, uh, sorry Mom, I was completely zoned out."
His attention turned back to her outfit. He still needed to know.
"So uh, what made you choose that outfit today, I don't think I've ever seen it before?"
A wicked grin came over Sandra's face, but she managed to twist it into a sweet smile as she lifted her head up to face her unsuspecting Son.
"Oh this old thing? I've had it for years but barely had the chance to wear it. Then today, someone came into work wearing the exact same outfit!"
Jaime let out a quick sigh of relief. It felt like a massive weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Maybe he could do it, make a clean break from Mommy, get rid of evidence and everything could go back to normal.
Sandra could see his eyes lighting up, that glimmer of hope. It was almost too easy, too cruel. But she couldn't help herself. Just the thought of crushing his dreams right before eyes was making her wet. Sandra paused to take a bite of her meal. What would a therapist say about all this she mused.
"She had come into the office for some reason or another, and we got to talking, and I mentioned I had the exact same outfit. We started talking about clothes, and makeup, and men~"
Sandra giggled at the last word.
"She doesn't have too high of an opinion of the man in her life right now. Passive and effeminate, and then sometimes throws fits over things that are for his own good, or at least that's how she put it. But we had a grand time talking so I asked her name so I could add her online, and you know what she said?"
Jaime raised an eyebrow as he took in a particularly large mouthful of food.
"Just call me Mommy, that's what the men in my life seem to think I am."
Jaime coughed and half choked on his meal as his Mother laughed to herself about her story and the other woman who called herself Mommy, before turning her attention to Jaime's choking fit.
"Oh careful there Jaime! Go clean yourself up in the bathroom and I'll clear the dishes. Thank you again for making dinner, it's so nice to come home to a freshly cooked meal."
She got up and started to usher Jaime to the bathroom, and as she collected the plates she called out after him.
"It feels like ages since we've really talked like this too, there's this movie on streaming that I've been dying to watch, maybe we can see if it's any good and catch up a little more after dinner~"
...
Jaime splashed water on his face, wiping off the spittle and mess he'd made of himself. The cool water felt nice against his flushed face, but it didn't help with the thoughts swirling in his head. Had she met his Mother? Was she setting something up? What were the odds that some random woman wearing a burgundy romper who called herself Mommy would walk into his Mother's office?
Jaime knew he was fooling himself, something had to be up. He hesitantly checked his phone. No new messages. It had been radio silence since he'd talked back, and now he was in the dark. He felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. What had felt like a time of freedom now felt like he was awaiting his execution.
Jaime interrupted his introspection with a fit of scratching at his itchy legs. No wonder people don't go commando every day! Slowly and carefully he tugged down his jeans, to get a look at how irritated his legs had gotten. His pale smooth thighs were all covered in red marks from where he had been itching. Jaime sucked in air between his teeth, but could feel the itching subside once he fully tugged his jeans off. Was he having an allergic reaction? Was it because of his shaved legs? Feeling the material of his jeans, he'd never noticed before how coarse and rough it was, how much it even made his fingers itch.
No more boy clothes.
Jaime found himself thinking of the clothes in his Mother's closet. The delicate fabrics, the soft materials. His mind wandered back to the cotton panties he'd been wearing all this time, how much better they had felt, how they cupped his caged dick so snugly and comfortably.
Embrace femininity.
Jaime looked back at his tender red marked legs. They still tingled with irritation. Maybe he just needed to moisturize? He looked through the medicine cabinet and found the lotion he'd used after he shaved his legs. As he poured the cold liquid into his palms, and began rubbing it up and down his legs, the tingling itch faded into a tantalizing electric buzz. He let out a soft gasp as he stroked up and down his thighs, enjoying how smooth they felt, and how luxurious it was to work in the lotion. As he worked in the last of the lotion, and the redness in his legs subsided, he felt a patch of stubble on the back of his calf that he'd missed. He'd have to shave again tomorrow to make sure he got everywhere.
Embrace femininity.
Jaime looked back to his scratchy jeans laying in a heap on the floor. Maybe just for tonight, he thought. He kicked them up into the hamper with his foot, and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist before he left the bathroom, almost immediately bumping into his Mother in the hall.
"O-oh Jaime, be careful sweety! I just wanted to check and see if you were alright."
She leaned in to give him a smooch on the forehead, and her eyes drifted down to notice the towel.
"Aw, did you get your jeans all messy?"
Sandra smiled. She knew. She could smell the delicates scented lotion on him. She saw him squirming all through dinner, scratching and itching. He couldn't stand them anymore, but he wasn't too bothered by his hoodie yet. Sandra gave a slight shrug to herself, she'd just have to reinforce it more tonight, although he did look rather cute in that oversized hoodie, like he'd borrowed it from his boyfriend.
Jaime just gave a quick nod, and mumbled something about having to go change. He said he'd just be a few minutes and then they could watch the movie together. Sandra just smiled and turned back toward the living room to leave him to it. She'd watch the camera feed on her phone while she waited.
...
Jaime swung open the bedroom door and closed it behind him. His Mother seemed to be able to sneak up on him at any moment these days. Maybe he should look into getting a door lock? Some way to make sure she couldn't barge in on him when he was... Jaime pushed the thought from his head. No! He could do this. He just had to stay strong, and fight whatever Mommy had in store for him. Even if she came back with a vengeance tomorrow, he was free tonight, and he was going to enjoy it.
Still, as he dropped the towel and looked back down at his glistening smooth legs, he knew he couldn't just freeball it in another pair of rough scratchy jeans. And he still needed to go out tomorrow to buy some boxers or briefs, something other than panties. For now though...
Jaime looked through his underwear collection, all the pilfered delicates that he'd stolen from his Mother. He hadn't done any laundry yet, he'd been too afraid of getting caught, but now he'd gone through almost all of them, leaking presumably stains into the front. And he didn't want to wear the thongs or lacy negligee. All that remained then was his Mother's workout boyshorts. Black with the magenta trim.
He held them up by the waistband, stretching it tight across his thumbs as he examined them. He'd pulled them from her dirty laundry hamper like the rest of them, but this was the only pair that she'd done any sort of physical activity in. He could almost smell her sweat in them, a delicate aroma of perspiration and women's deodorant, mixed with a hint of something else.
Jaime swallowed hard, and then quickly lowered them down and stepped into them. The tight fitting form compressed his caged dick against his body, but he kind of liked the snug feeling, and as he tugged them into place, the comfortable tightness was a breath of fresh air compared to what he'd endured while going commando.
He still needed some pants however. He dug through his drawers, dismissing his jeans, sweatpants, slacks, cargo shorts. Just touching them felt rough and irritating. Had everything always felt this uncomfortable? How had he managed to not notice all this time?
No more boy clothes.
Slowly but surely, he found himself thinking back to his closet.
Embrace femininity.
The outfit he'd chosen, the one he'd stashed.
No more boy clothes.
Girls jeans are basically the same thing as boys, just more comfortable and without pockets.
Embrace femininity.
