CHAPTER ONE

 

I sat in the back seat and played with myself.

I was a bored, young man, very rich and always becoming richer, and I certainly wasn't looking forward to the next three months.

Three months of living in the family manor out in the country. Real country. Fifty miles form anywhere. No friends. No girls. Nothing to do. I might be able to get my ipad to work, but that far out in the country I had a feeling I was not going to be able get enough signal to watch a movie, let alone any porn.

So why was I going out to the family manor, if I was so dreading it?

Because it was family tradition.

Tradition, to stay in some raggedy old house out in the middle of nowhere. Who ever heard of such a thing?

Yet father had insisted. I had turned 18, was about to go away to college, would inherit 1.3 billion dollars when I was 25, but I had to go to this stupid house and live, by myself for three months. Father's exact instructions were, "You'll live there for the summer, and you'll be under the direct instructions of our governess there, Elsie."

Elsie, sounded like a damned cow.

"You will do exactly what Elsie tells you to do. You follow her directions to the letter, no matter what those instructions are. If I get so much as one bad report..." father had said.

I didn't feel too good about this situation, and I had blurted, "What, you'll leave me out of the will?"

His father had looked at me levelly, and he had stated, in cold tones. "Yes. And you won't be allowed in the family business. You'll live on a minuscule stipend and we won't have anything to do with you. You will be out...and there will be no way back in."

My jaw had dropped, and my eyes had opened. I had never heard father speak in such a hard fashion, yet I knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word he had said.

So I was supposed to go to this God forsaken place out in the wilds and follow the directions of some dried up, old crone. I'd probably have to cut the yard, trim the bushes, and do whatever else the old biddy might have for me to do. Build my 'character,' or some other fool thing.

Up front the chauffeur was watching the road. He didn't know that I had my hands in my pants. I didn't like the chauffeur much, and I was going to leave a semen stain on the limo seats. I knew father and grandfather liked him, but he was just another idiot, as far as I was concerned.

I stroked for a while, thought about my girlfriend and the blow job she had given me as a good bye present, and I managed to get off. I grunted and sprayed semen on the seat,. My mind temporarily went white with the pleasure, then I sat back, my dick shrinking back into my pants.

The countryside passed, making me feel like the car was motionless and the country was moving. I dozed a little, and thought about how terrible everything was. Not even Grandfather was of any help. In fact, Grandfather just smiled when I brought the subject of my abandonment at the family estate.

"Nobody ever goes there, why do I have to?"

Grandfather's mouth quirked up and he said, "You will learn something. The same way your father learned something, and the same way I learned some thing. By the end of the summer, I guarantee you'll be a different person."

"But Grandfather..."

But nothing. Grandfather wasn't about to intervene for me, and nobody was going to rescue me from this terrible experience. I was going to have to go through with it.

Hunh!

Doomed to a summer of despair and...and doing whatever some old bitch wanted me to do.

***

An hour later the limo traveled down a lane sided by trees, went through a gate, and I had my first view of my new home.

I have to admit, it was well kept. The huge lawn was trimmed and there wasn't a weed in sight. There were four stories, a host of gables, and three chimneys, one of which had a tendril of smoke rising from it.

Chimneys? Didn't it even have central heating?

The place was wood and brick, and the wood was painted.

There were many windows, but they all shone with cleanliness.

So it was clean. It was still a witch's house as far as I was concerned.

The limo circled the horseshoe and pulled up in front of the house. An old lady, maybe fiftyish, came out of the two double doors and stood on the porch. She wasn't ugly, didn't have a long pointed nose with warts on it, but she had a firm chin, determined eyes, and a no nonsense look about her.

I groaned out loud. Looked like the fun police to me.

The car stopped and I waited for the chauffeur to come around and open my door.

I stepped out, stretched, and looked around.

Huh! Fresh air. That was certainly unusual. Having lived in the city all my life I don't think I had ever smelled fresh air. I sniffed again, but it didn't help my frame of mind.

"You're Alex," said the old lady. "I'm Elsie."

I grunted.

The chauffeur popped the trunk and reached in for my bags.

I had packed a lot. If I was going to spend a terrible summer in the wilds I wanted some comforts. My ipad was at the bottom of one of the bags, filled with porn PDFs. There was even a bottle of whiskey.

"Don't bother," said Elsie.

The chauffeur looked at her, shrugged, and closed the trunk. He said good by to Elsie, doffed his hat, if you can believe it, didn't say a word to me, got in the car and drove away.

I turned to the old lady.

"He has all my clothes and things."

"You won't need them."

"I can't wear the same clothes for three months."

"You won't. Come inside."

She turned and entered the front door. I looked around. Great. Some senile, old bitch is in charge of me. Doesn't even understand the concept of clothes. Fuck.

I followed her into the house.

The insides of the house were less than impeccable. Some of the wall boards were loose, rungs on the bannister were missing, there were even holes in the floor, or soft mushy spots where it felt like if you stepped too hard you would sink through to the basement. It was dirty and dusty, badly in need of repair, a virtual shack. It certainly wasn't what I was used to.

"Come along. Don't be slow."

She walked down a long hallway to a kitchen. The kitchen actually had one of those big, old black stoves in it. The kind you have to put wood into. It had round holes in the top, with covers on the holes, and little holes in the covers to insert a lever, or handle, or whatever you call it.

Next to the stove was a stack of firewood. It was all neatly cut to a length and ready to pop into the stove.

On the other side of the kitchen was an ancient refrigerator. 'Refrigerator one,' probably from when they had to put blocks of ice in the things.

There were shabby looking wooden cupboards, a drain board and a big sink.

I looked around the place and didn't try to hide the look of distaste on my face.

"Okay," she said, turning to me. "Take off your clothes."

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

I stared at the old lady. Take off my clothes? When she just lost all my other clothes? What the hell was I supposed to wear.

"What?"

"Don't be deaf. Don't be obstinate. Your father told me you would follow my every instruction. So do it."

Now I was angry, but I was also compromised. Taking one's clothes off in front of somebody is always an embarrassing experience. And to take them off in front of the old harridan in front of me? Standing with one hand extended to take them?

But father had said...and billions of dollars hinged on me doing what I was told...so I began taking off my clothes. I took off my shirt and experienced the rise of goosebumps. I kicked off my shoes and couldn't stop staring at her, I sat on a chair and took off my socks. Then I stood up and undid my pants and began sliding them down my thighs.

My face turned red. I picked everything up and placed it on the kitchen table. I refused to hand my clothes to her, for that would be handing over what remained of my shredded dignity.

"All your clothes."

But...what...I can't...but I did.

I took off my tighty whiteys and placed them on the bundle of clothes on the table. To add to the humiliation, my dick began doing a slow rise.

Elsie picked them up, took them to the stove, lifted a lid, and shoved the clothes into the stove.

"Hey!" I protested feebly.

She walked past me. "Come along.

She didn't look at my white body, she just walked past it, and my hard on reached full strength.

I followed her down the hallway, my dick waggling back and forth. It was hard and red and throbbing.

She lead the way up the stairs, gripping the bannister with one hand. We reached the second floor and she pointed down the long hallway. "My room is the last one on the right. Do not disturb me."

We ascended to the third floor. She stood on the landing and pointed upwards. "That is the fourth floor. You are not supposed to go up there."

Great. I was of the age that if you told me 'yes' I heard 'no.' If I saw red I thought it was green. Telling me not to do something was the same as telling me I had to do it.

She walked down the hallway to the first room on the left and opened the door. "This is your room."

I stared in horror. The damned thing was pink! The walls were covered with pink wallpaper. The ceiling was pink, the rug was pink, even the bedspread on the four poster bed was pink.

In fact the only things not pink were a dresser and a small writing table with a mirror in front of it. They were shiny white.

"This is a girl's room!" I blurted.

She made a huffing sound, I think she was laughing. "Your new clothes are in the closet. You will not come out of this room unless you are fully clothed. And I mean FULLY clothed."

She motioned me all the way in with a jerk of her chin, and when I entered, she stepped out and closed the door. I could hear her clunky shoes thudding on the hallway floor, then tapping on the wood stairs.

I stared at the room in shock.

Pink.

Girl.

Yet my boner was throbbing. In fact, it was throbbing worse than before.

Nothing else to do, I began examining the room. I opened the dresser drawers.

First drawer: bras and panties. All colors and materials.

Second drawer: several garters and two rows of new nylons.

Third drawer: slips and camisoles and other dainty things that I knew went on a woman's body, but which I knew not the names for.

Fourth drawer: two boobs.

I blinked. Boobs?

I took them out of the drawer and hefted them. Yes. Definitely tits. Breast forms, I think they are called, to be put into the cups of bras.

I put the fake tits back into the dresser, shuddered a little, and moved to the closet.

It was a big closet with a row of skirts, blouses and dresses on one side, and a neat row of heels under them. On the other side was a shelf with wigs on it. Redheads, blondes, brunettes. Short bobs and long tresses. Under the shelf were several suitcases. I shook them and they didn't feel very heavy, so I ignored them.

I exited the closet and went to the little writing table. Stupid mirror had a bunch of little light bulbs around it. I opened the drawer and my jaw dropped. And I sat down heavily.

Make up.

Creams and powders and tubes.

And a small booklet. 'A Young Lady's Guide to Make Up.' It was pink with a white square on the front. On the white square was a silhouette of a woman sitting at a table like the one I was sitting at.

I put the book down, closed the drawer, and just sat.

Just sat, my mind whirling like a drunken merry-go-round.

I was expected to wear girl's clothes? And make up? No. Not the make up. That was just a mistake. That was for somebody else.

Yet there wasn't supposed to be anybody else on the property. Nobody except myself and Elsie.

And my hard on. It was still erect, still pulsing, still wanting to be stroked.

Heck, I had just jacked off in the limo, and now I had to do it again?

And I did have to.

I lay back on the bed and started stroking. Up and down. The balls bouncing underneath. My breath getting raspy and ragged.

And I squirted. All over my stomach. Shit.

I didn't know where the bathroom was, and I had to clean myself off.

So I went to the door, opened it, and looked down the hallway.

I tip toed a couple of rooms down, and found a bathroom. I washed myself, then decided to take a shower, dried myself off with a towel that, thank God, wasn't pink, left the towel on the floor, and tip toed back to my room.

Ha! I had left my room naked! Take that, bitch!

I lay down on the bed and thought about things. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to think about.

I had no clothes. No video games. No friends. Nothing to do.

I went to sleep. And woke up hungry. And it was dusk outside. And my dick was hard again.

So I was going to have to go downstairs, and that meant I was going to have to wear a dress. A stupid dress!

I went into the closet and searched through the dresses hanging there.

I chose a blouse and a skirt. They were the easiest to get into, and I didn't want to bother with a stupid bra or anything else.

I looked for shoes, but they were all high heels.

Fine. Fuck the shoes. I headed out the door.