The Cottage Ch. 01

"God, yes," he replied, thrusting his hips hard into her thighs.

Mike was now furiously rubbing the sodden panties against his highly sensitive penis; the friction of the satin panties against the nylon hose was exquisite and he was close to his own orgasm.

Steve suddenly shuddered and Mike witnessed his uncle ejaculate. He was literally standing on his toes, riding each wave of his orgasm clasping his mother's legs to his chest, shooting long streams of warm semen onto her skirt and blouse; the final spurts dribbling down the insides of her pantyhose-clad legs. His uncle fell on top his mother and kissed her passionately and she rubbed her sodden hosiery on his body as they kissed and cuddled for a minute or two.

Mike had his second intense orgasm of the day watching his uncle spray his seed over his fully clothed mother; his semen flooded the gusset of his pantyhose, soaking into the slippery satin panties he was frenziedly rubbing on his cock. The smell of his mother's Poison still lingered on his body and as his orgasm wracked him he found the sensation of hose, bra and slip against his sensitive skin heightened the experience tenfold.

What he realised as his orgasm began to subside was that during the throes of his climax he had not identified with his uncle; he had imagined that it was he lying on the bed, taking his mother's place. That he was the one dressed in black miniskirt, blouse, heels and makeup being splattered by scalding semen. He shook his head to clear the image from his subconscious. What a silly idea! It was just the sensation of wearing his sister's lingerie that had bought on that notion surely!

"Ok lover let's get into the bathroom and clean up this mess, then I need to get changed and get back to work," his mother giggled and pushed uncle Steve off her.

Mike watched as his uncle, naked except for his socks, chase his fully clothed and semen spattered mother into the ensuite bathroom.

Mike quickly cleaned the floor and took off his mother's high-heels and wiped them clean of his semen. He couldn't remember exactly how the shoes had been arranged in the jumbled mess on the floor the closet. Was there a method to her madness or were her shoes just thrown on the floor in a heap? He didn't have time to worry; he dropped them on the floor and quickly padded away down the hall to his own bedroom.

As quietly as he could he stripped himself out of the semen-stained lingerie. He waited for his mother and uncle to dress and leave the house. He looked out the window and saw them drive away in Steve's little car. He buried the stained underwear at the bottom of the laundry basket and changed into his own clothes. He went back to his mother's bedroom and noticed that his mother had changed her bed linen. He also noticed a streaky wet stain where he had cleaned up his own semen off the polished wooden floor.

He almost fainted. His mother had obviously noticed the stain and mopped it or wiped it with a damp cloth. He bolted for the built-in closet and flung open the louvred doors. Sure enough, another damp patch belied where his mother had cleaned away the semen stains he had left behind.

"Fuck!" he sighed.

The next few hours were the most terrifying of his life. He was dreading confronting his mother when she came home from work and even considered running away from home.

"Have you been mooching in my bedroom Mike?" his mother asked him later that night.

He fervently denied it of course; but guilt was written all over his face. His mother surprised him by giving him a wry smile.

"Well I better not find out that you've been up to shenanigans in my bedroom Michael Harris," she said sternly, but her face held an amused expression.

Mike blanched and shook his head.

"Never mom; I promise," he whimpered.

"I think the little perv plays with our knickers while we're out!" Charlotte chuckled and punched him playfully in the shoulder.

His sister was joking, but she was awfully close to the truth and Mike vowed never to touch their lingerie again. It was bad enough that his mother rightfully suspected he had spied on her and uncle Steve having sex in her bedroom; but if she or his sister found out that he had been dressing in their lingerie he would die!

"Ok Charlotte; I think Mike knows now that he better not ever go into our bedrooms without our permission," Doris said sternly; her face now very serious.

"He might see things there that he was never meant to," she finished, eyeing him sternly.

It was the closest he ever came to being caught; and he repeated his vow never to touch his mother's or his sister's lingerie again. He did not however vow to never wear lingerie again, just not his sister's or his mother's.

Mike waited a few weeks to see if his mother was going to bring up his indiscretion again but she never did. The compulsion to dress in women's underwear built up until it became undeniable. Mike was far too scared to ever dress up at home again; he was terrified of being caught, but he had to dress up somewhere. Then an idea came to him! But first he would need to buy his own lingerie.

Mike was very frugal, he saved his pocket money and the few bob he made from a paper route. He had a saved a reasonable sum of money and now he decided to put it good use. Mike's only form of transport was a twelve-speed bike he had been given for his fourteenth birthday. He rode it everywhere, including on his paper route; that was why his legs were so well defined and his body so thin.

He started taking regular bike rides to Luxton, the closest big town to Chelmsford. It was far enough away that he would be unlikely to run into anyone from his school or any other family members. It was fifteen miles from Chelmsford but Mike made the round trip on his bike with his large rucksack on his back without too much exertion. Mike found a big department store where he thought he could buy lingerie without being too conspicuous. He blushed with embarrassment when he was approached by the matronly shop assistant in the lingerie section. He used the excuse that he was buying something nice for his girlfriend for her birthday and she took pity on him and helped him pick out a nice panty and bra set with a matching slip.

Then he went to a few different stores ready to use the same excuse if needed but in most cases the lingerie section was unattended and he just helped himself to what he wanted and steeled himself for any inquisitive glances he might receive from the checkout staff. Mostly the counter staff were just bored and just rung up his purchases and gave him his change.

Pantyhose were easy to buy; he just made his selection and put them in with some innocuous items in a shopping basket and no one asked him any questions. He had decided to make a special purchase and he went to a specialist lingerie store and bought an expensive satin and lace garter belt and a selection of fifteen-denier fully-fashioned stockings. He couldn't wait to try them on and he nearly fell off his bike riding home.

He stashed his lingerie away in a secret compartment he had built in the back of his wardrobe. Then he executed the second and most important part of his plan.

"It's our weekend at the cottage isn't it mom?" Mike asked innocently enough.

"Yes Mike but it's bloody freezing out and me and your sister have a lot on this weekend," his mother replied, not even looking up from the book she was reading.

She was sitting in her big overstuffed chair with her legs curled under her and Mike couldn't help staring at the dark reinforced toes of her stockings and then tracing her shapely nylon-clad calves with his eyes until they disappeared under her skirt.

"I'm not going to the shitty cottage," Charlotte whined.

She was lying on her back on the lounge staring at some inane soap opera on the television. She was wearing a little A-line skirt and had her long legs bent at the knees with her platform shoes flat on the cushions; her skirt was hiked right up to her waist and Mike could just see her red satin panties under the gusset of her flesh-toned pantyhose. God these women made him horny! He wanted to dress just like they did!

"Can I go up on my own then mom? I'll ride my bike up and back and it'll get me out of the house for the weekend," he asked.

"Sure you can son," Doris replied turning a page and reaching for her obligatory glass of wine.

A quick recollection flew into his head depicting his mother lying on her back fully clothed while uncle Steve fucked her white-stockinged legs and he shook his head to remove it.

"Thanks mom," he beamed and bounced up the stairs to his room to pack his treasures for the weekend.

And so Mike's regular excursions to the cottage by himself began. And of course while he was there alone he could do whatever he wanted.

He enjoyed parading around the cottage dressed in lingerie and did it whenever he could. The solitude and privacy of the cottage, set deep in the woods meant he could dress in lingerie all day and all night if he wanted too. He found a hiding place in the cottage where he could hide his girly requisites and added to them and replaced items as they became worn out. He also added to his magazine collection and stared endlessly at the attractively clothed models contained in their pages. His compulsion to dress like a woman kept developing until eventually it was not just lingerie that fascinated him. He wanted to wear high-heels and maybe try on a nice mini-skirt and sexy blouse. He loved skirts. He even loved the word 'skirt'! It evoked images of his mother and sister's tight little skirts, hems wore high on the thigh, rustling against their nylon-clad legs when they strode around the house on their high-heels.

Mike thought about it for a while; he knew his lingerie sizes from trial and error trying on his mother and sister's panties, bras and slips. But what dress size was he? What blouse size? What woman's shoe size? This was before the days of the Internet and books which converted ladies sizes to men's sizes were just not available; where would one get such a book anyway?

Besides; he couldn't walk into a department store and just ask to try on a few skirts and blouses and he certainly couldn't just take a few items off the racks and take them to a checkout. That would raise a few eyebrows!

Then one day he was riding around Luxton when he rode past a big Oxfam depot and it hit him! He could buy second hand ladies clothing and if it didn't fit he could simply throw it away; it wouldn't cost him much coming from a charity shop and the staff there were less likely to care what he bought; they just wanted his donations.

So Mike summoned up the courage to enter the Oxfam shop and after thirty gruelling heart-stopping minutes he had selected a nice collection of skirts and blouses. He even found a nice business suit skirt-jacket combination that he thought would fit him. It was almost exactly like the suits his mother wore to work. Sure enough the little old lady at the counter couldn't give a toss about his purchases, she just added up the total and took his cash.

A few days later he returned early in the afternoon when the store was quiet and quickly kicked off his shoes and tried on four pairs of high-heels. Three of the four pairs fitted him and he took them to the counter. This time the little old lady did give him an inquisitive look but she didn't say anything, she just gave him a knowing smile and handed him his change. Mike blushed, his face turned a deep crimson and he bolted from the store with his purchases.

And so Mike would go to the cottage and dress up in lingerie, skirts, blouses, hose and heels but he still looked like a boy in girl's clothes.

He looked good dressed as girl; that is he had a good body and great legs but it was still the face of teenage boy that looked back at him from the mirror. It was time to take the next step!

He rode into Luxton and he bought a makeup case, explaining to the shop assistant that it was a birthday present for his cousin who was only just beginning to wear makeup. The shop assistant was very helpful and helped Mike select some nice shades of lipstick that his cousin might like. She also advised him that girls love perfume and Mike purchased a bottle of his beloved Poison perfume 'because he liked his cousin so much'. The shop assistant was happy because she though she had fleeced the young naïve teenager of his cash and Mike was happy because he had acquired all of his makeup and perfume requisites at one shop with no fuss or embarrassment at all.

He bought some cheap jewellery and clip-on earrings at a department store and then returned to the Oxfam shop where he found two good quality wigs. One was a shoulder-length dark brunette bob and the other a honey-blond, which came just below his shoulders.

He took these purchases home and couldn't wait to get them to the cottage so he could undergo his first transformation from Mike to Michele; the enfemme name he decided to call himself. A few months after his seventeenth birthday and one week before Christmas his mother dropped the bombshell that she was going to Majorca for the Christmas holidays with a friend from work.

"You two are old enough to look after yourselves now," she said dismissively when she gave her son and daughter the news.

Charlotte was the first to chime in.

"Can I have Ben over for Christmas then?" Ben being her latest beau.

"You mean can you bend over for Ben at Christmas?" Mike sniggered and both of the women gave him steely looks.

"It's ok mom and Sis; I'll go to the cottage," he quickly added.

"Don't know what you want to go to cottage for in the middle of winter for, but sure ok," his mother answered.

"So he can stroke his little peeny-weeny all day long," Charlotte teased.

"Jesus! I'll be glad when I'm on that plane," his mother sighed.

And so Mike just happened to be up in the cottage when the worst blizzard ever to hit Chelmsford struck in December 1986.

Mike arrived at the cottage just before it started to snow and he was so excited that he didn't notice when it did. He opened his rucksack and laid out his recent purchases and started preparing himself to learn how to become a transvestite. He knew what a transvestite was; a man who dressed in women's clothes and looked very much like a woman when transformed. Up until this time Mike thought of himself as a crossdresser but now he was going to graduate and become a transvestite. He was going to become Michele Nylons for the first time and he was very excited about it.

He got the generator going and lit a blazing fire in the open fireplace; it warmed the cottage and soon the hot system was piping hot. He had very little body hair but he painstakingly shaved his chest, stomach and legs and then the fine hairs on his hands and arms. He shaved his face and felt his skin; it was smooth and supple.

Then he opened a pot of hair removal cream and after reading the instructions he applied a thick coat of the smelly cream over the hairs in his crotch and buttocks making sure that he got into all of the crevasses. He watched with amusement as small clumps of his body hair disappeared down the drain when his rinsed it off in the shower. He was amazed at how smooth and sensual his shaved body felt and he decided to keep his body permanently hairless from now on. Its not like anyone would notice.

Now came the difficult part; learning how to apply makeup. Mike sat down at the dresser in the small bedroom and arranged the contents of the cosmetics case. He was fascinated with the cosmetics containers. Long tubes of mascara, eyeliner and lipstick, bottles and pots of foundation and nailpolish, palettes of bright coloured eyeshadow, rouge and jars of finishing powder.

He opened up a magazine featuring pictures of overly-madeup models and selected one of favourites and decided to try and duplicate her makeup; his first ever attempt at applying cosmetics. The foundation, finishing powder, blush and lipstick were not too hard to get right with a little practice but it took several attempts to get the eye makeup anywhere near as good as the girl in the picture. After two frustrating hours was reasonably astute at getting his eyeliner and eyeshadow right. Applying the mascara was not quite so difficult, but the first few times he slipped and smeared some on his eyelids. Also it tended to clot on his eyelashes; but he eventually got the hang of applying a nice thick even coat to his upper and lower eyelashes.

When he had the hang of putting on makeup he washed his face completely clean with warm soapy water and applied some moisturiser so he had a clean palette for his very first full transformation from Mike to Michele.

What Mike didn't know was why his mother was going to Majorca. It was because of a developing family scandal. Aunty Joyce had found out about Doris' illicit affair with uncle Steve. Doris was running off to Majorca to avoid the disgrace and uncle Steve had packed a bag and moved out of his home at the insistence of his wife. He had nowhere to go so he decided to spend a few nights at the Harris cottage until Joyce either got over her anger and took him back or he found somewhere permanent to live. He was driving down the highway towards Chelmsford forest when it started to snow heavily.

"Hope I get to the cottage before this fucking snow cuts off the access road," he said to himself.

Mike had been experimenting with how to make more realistic breastforms rather than just stuffing socks into his bra cups. He now had a tried and true method that did the job. He opened a packet of pantyhose and cut the legs from the gusset. He filled the feet of the pantyhose legs with rice until he had the desired size and then doubled the legs over and tied them off with a couple of overhand knots. The knots made nice imitation nipples when the breastforms were placed inside his bra cups.

Mike sat down at the dresser and applied foundation and finishing powder. He worked on his eyeliner next, concentrating on getting it just right from the inner corner to the outer corners of both top and bottom eyelids, gradually thickening the line. Next he went to work on the eyeshadow using a combination of light blue, purple and pink; blending it as close as possible to resemble the eyes of the model in his fashion magazine. He rouged his cheeks with blusher and applied a coat of finishing powder. He painstakingly mascaraed his eyelashes and reached for the plum red lipstick and carefully applied three coats, biting down on a tissue to set the lipstick just like he had seen his mother and sister do.

He painted his toenails and fingernails with matching plum red nailpolish. Coating the fingernails of his left hand was relatively easy, but Mike found it awkward using his left hand to paint the nails on the fingers of right hand. When he was happy with that he had his makeup right he reached for the wig. The shoulder-length brunette bob sat perfectly on his head, the fringe level with his eyebrows. He brushed it out until it was sleek and glossy.

The next task was a little uncomfortable but essential if he wanted a woman's silhouette. He tucked his penis and scrotum under his crotch and taped them in place. He had found the tape in a shop that specialised in actor's accoutrements and stage makeup. The stage makeup was not suitable for his purposes but when he saw the gaff tape which actors used to affix prosthetics he had an idea how he could use it and bought a couple of rolls.

He was amazed at the transformation; he looked very attractive. He looked as good as some of the models in his magazines. Mike took his homemade breastforms and fitted them inside the cups of a red satin and lace brassiere then he opened a packet of Pretty Polly sheer to the waist pantyhose. He carefully fitted the toes of the pantyhose around his toes and admired the sheen of the nylon and the silhouette of his nailpolished toenails through the reinforced toes.