proxy70

<html>
<head><title>Leslie in Petticoats</title></head>
<!-- Changed by: Nostrumo, 10-Sep-1997 -->
<body>
<h2 ALIGN=CENTER>Leslie in Petticoats</h2><br><center>
<i>by <a href="mailto:LXJE46A@prodigy.com">Jenny Leeds</a></i></center><p align=right>&copy; 1997</p>
<p><center><i>For Nan Gilbert,<br>
with heartfelt appreciation of<br>
her pioneering effort.</i></CENTER>
<H3 ALIGN=CENTER>Chapter 1</H3>
<p>MRS. CHARD AND MRS. ARGENTINA got along famously from the first time 
they met.
<p>Both ladies were divorced; both bitter about their former husbands; 
both in their early thirties; both with thirteen-year-old sons. They had 
each inherited more than enough riches to remain idle and indulge 
themselves in their discontent.
<p>They were tall, elegant women. 
<p>Mrs. Chard was blonde, so blonde her hair was almost white. Her 
startling blue eyes were set in a fine-boned face that was only just 
beginning to show the passing of thirty-two years. A slender and small-
bosomed figure gave her an appearance of fragility.
<p>By contrast, Mrs. Argentina was dark. Her hair was black as a raven's 
wing, usually piled on her head in an intricate hairdo, but when it was 
unpinned it fell almost to her slim waist. Her body was lushly curved; 
her bust, full. Generous lips suggested great sensuality. It couldn't be 
said she was older or younger than Mrs. Chard, for her beauty had a 
timeless quality.
<p>When their neighbors in the condominium complex saw them together 
they smiled and said, "As different as night and day," which was not at 
all accurate, because the similarity of their personalities bridged 
their physical differences completely.
<p>Their children also got along well. The two boys were skinny and 
smaller than average, which caused them to seek out each other's company 
since they couldn't compete in the rough-and-tumble physical sports of 
their bigger friends. Although they were at that age when girls become 
of consuming interest to boys, and vice versa, in their cases the 
interest was not reciprocated. The young ladies in their eighth-grade 
class never gave them a romantic thought, preferring to make eyes at the 
taller boys and athletes.
<p>Johnny Argentina didn't resemble his mother much. He had inherited 
her liquid dark eyes and his lashes were too long and pretty, but his 
hair, which he wore long like most of the other boys in imitation of 
rock stars, was an ordinary brown, unlike the luxurious ebony of his 
mother's. Where she was dignified and poised, he was a scampy little 
rascal.
<p>Nor did Leslie Chard look much like his mother. Although he could 
properly be called blond, his tangled curly hair, not quite as long as 
Johnny's, was a dark honey color. His eyes were gray and his features 
lacked the aristocratic fineness of his mother's. His nose, for example. 
Instead of being thin, almost aquiline, was a cute turned-up button 
hardly worthy of being called a nose; and he had an overbite which gave 
him a friendly look that drew people to him. 
<p>In the open, innocent way kids have, Leslie and Johnny comforted each 
other about their mothers's unfairness to them. It seemed they were 
always in trouble. For being late, for making too much noise, for 
getting too dirty, for being clumsy--for any and everything their 
mothers could think of. In short, for being boys.
<p>Not long after they met, Johnny revealed his darkest secret to 
Leslie. Mrs. Argentina had devised an uncommonly cruel punishment.
<p>She made him wear a dress.
<p>"A <i>dress?</i> A girl's dress?"
<p>"Yeah. If I do anything wrong, she has this dress she makes me put 
on. And then I have to do housework like a girl. Even if I don't do 
anything bad she just makes up something so she can punish me. It's not 
fair. I have to wear the dress almost every day. She calls it petticoat 
discipline."
<p>Leslie didn't know what to say. He knew how mortified he would be if 
he were in Johnny's shoes. Finally he said, "That's really pretty 
creepy."
<p>On the way home, he cut across the lawns that terraced the 
condominium complex where he lived, just as the sprinklers came on. A 
shocked moment later he laughed and raced for the safety of a walkway, 
but by the time he got there he was drenched. He shrugged and ran back 
on the lawn, charting a zig-zag course for home, pretending the 
sprinklers were land mines.
<p>He crashed open the front door in exhilaration, dropped his sodden 
books on the hall table, and went to the kitchen, shoes squishing, to 
gorge on the milk and cookies the maid always left for him.
<p>As he sat happily dunking cookies in milk and slathering them down, 
he became aware of a presence behind him.
<p>Mrs. Chard stood in the doorway. Her eyes were blue chips of ice.
<p>He ventured, "H-hi, Mom."
<p>Silence.
<p>He swallowed. "What's wrong?"
<p>"What is <i>wrong?</i> Just look at yourself!"
<p>"Oh. Well, it wasn't my fault, the sprinklers came on."
<p>"So you decided to track water through the house and sit in a puddle 
in the middle of the kitchen."
<p>"I'm sorry."
<p>"Not as sorry as you're going to be, young man. I'm sick and tired of 
this kind of behavior. Go upstairs this instant and dry yourself off. 
Take your schoolbooks with you. They're in the hall. Ruined. Put them 
away in your room. And wash your hands and face, you're filthy. You must 
be deliberately trying to annoy me. When you're finished come back down. 
You're to be punished."
<p>Leslie opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. When she was 
in this mood there was no reasoning with her. He made a face behind her 
back but did as his mother told him. When he came down, Mrs. Chard was 
in the living room. One of Angie's maid's uniforms was laid out on the 
couch.
<p>"Leslie, you have become far far too careless and impudent lately. 
You need to be taken down a peg. Remove your clothes and put on this 
dress."
<p>"What!"
<p>"Do as I say, young man."
<p>"No! What a dumb idea," he retorted, shocked into rudeness. "Where'd 
you get it from, Johnny's mother? That's what she makes him do."
<p>"Never mind. I think Mrs. Argentina and I know more about raising 
children than you. Now do as I say."
<p>"I don't want to."
<p>"Leslie, you know the court gave me sole custody. You must obey me in 
every particular. If you don't, I'll see to it that you are put in a 
juvenile detention home. That's what they do with incorrigibly 
disobedient children."
<p>However unrealistic a threat, to a thirteen-year-old it was 
effective. He shrank a little.
<p>"Aw, Mom, please."
<p>"Do as I say this instant."
<p>Sullenly, the boy stripped to his jockey shorts. 
<p>The maid's uniform, black satin with white cuffs on the sleeves and a 
Spanish lace collar, was almost a fit.
<p>It was large around the waist, but when he tied the little white 
apron around him it took up the slack. Since he and Angie were the same 
height, the hem fell to mid-thigh as it was supposed to. 
<p>It felt strange. Air circulated freely around his bare legs. Somehow 
wearing the dress made him feel more naked than if he had no clothes on 
at all.
<p>He was uncomfortable.
<p>He was also confused, for his penis hardened in his underwear. True, 
almost anything made him excited these days. Ever since he had 
discovered masturbation a few weeks before, he got erect at the very 
slightest provocation--but this was different. There was a special kind 
of "no-no" about wearing a dress.
<p>"Can I go up to my room now?"
<p>"Let me look at you. Why, it's rather becoming." Mrs. Chard's eyes 
softened. "You would have been quite an attractive girl .&nbsp;.&nbsp;." 
Her voice trailed off and she appeared to be lost in reverie.
<p>The boy said again, "Can I?"
<p>Mrs. Chard gave a start. "Can you what? Oh. No. I want you to vacuum 
the living room. Angie didn't get around to it today. You'll do the 
dishes after dinner too. That will give Angie time to run errands for me 
in the morning."
<p>Leslie hated housework.
<p>"I don't have to keep wearing this dress while I vacuum, do I?" he 
whined. "What if somebody comes?"
<p>"Nobody's coming. You're being punished, and you will remain clothed 
like that until I tell you different."
<p>By the time his mother allowed him to go to bed, Leslie was in tears. 
He had never been so humiliated.
<p>Nevertheless, he noticed that he had to masturbate before he could 
get to sleep, and what he fantasized about while doing it was wearing 
the maid's uniform. If his mother hadn't put it in the laundry he would 
have donned it, now that he was alone and safe in bed.
<p>The next afternoon after school he and Johnny went to their hideaway 
in an empty lot and Leslie told his friend all about it. The other boy 
was sympathetic; he tried to take Leslie's mind off his troubles by 
suggesting a hike over to Hilbert Park.
<p>Somehow the time slipped away. They were late getting home. It was 
Friday--being late shouldn't make any difference since they had the 
whole weekend to do their homework, but both boys wended their way home 
with foreboding.
<p>Mrs. Chard was in the living room. "Where have you been? It's after 
five o'clock."
<p>"I'm sorry, Mom. Johnny and me, well, we just--" He broke off. He had 
a feeling it wouldn't do any good to explain. He hoped she wasn't going 
to make him wear the maid's uniform again, but a sinking feeling told 
him that was what she had in mind.
<p>"Leslie, dear."
<p>He looked up in surprise. Her gentle tone put him off balance.
<p>"Come sit here beside me." She patted the couch. "You remember I made 
you put on Angie's dress yesterday?"
<p>"Aw, Mom, you're not going to make me wear it again, are you?"
<p>"Poor dear, you didn't like it much, did you?"
<p>"No."
<p>"Leslie, it couldn't be all that terrible. Girls wear dresses all the 
time, after all."
<p>"But they're girls."
<p>"Yes, of course. Do you know," she said brightly, "I've always 
thought it would be nice to have a daughter that I could dress up in all 
kinds of frou-frou and teach to make up and, oh, all the things that 
mothers do with their little girls. I don't suppose you can understand 
that."
<p>"Sure I can," Leslie lied.
<p>"When I saw you in Angie's dress yesterday I thought you'd make a 
perfectly lovely young lady. You're still so slender and delicate-
looking." She gazed at him earnestly. "I wonder if you would do 
something for me," she continued. "Would you?"
<p>Leslie was suspicious, but said, "Sure, Mom."
<p>"Good. Come with me."
<p>Mrs. Chard led Leslie upstairs to her bedroom.
<p>
<H3 ALIGN=CENTER>Chapter 2</H3>