A Pansy Among the Thorns

Pt. 1: Patrick

Patrick Thorn walked home from school that Friday with a wide smile on his face. The summer holidays had just begun, he was top of his class and would likely have his pick of universities, he'd even recently started dating one of the prettiest girls in his class, Samantha Clark. Only none of those things were the actual reason Patrick was smiling so broadly as he walked back through the affluent neighbourhood he and his dad had called home for the last 13 years. Patrick was smiling because he had a secret.

It had been a long time, after his mum passed, before the boy's dad started dating at all, (which had frankly suited Patrick just fine) but just recently Hank Thorn had gotten swept away in a whirlwind romance with a woman three years his senior and, after more than a decade of single living, decided to get engaged again. As much as it smarted Patrick's ego to cease being the centre of his Dad's world, and much as he wasn't keen on Cheryl's saccharine smile (or her repeated request he call her Mum - ew), there was one thing she brought to the house that more than made up for the disruptions: Mia.

Cheryl's daughter was just a few days younger than Patrick and attended the all-girls private school across town on a scholarship (unlike the Thorns, their family had never come into any significant money) but it wasn't her brains that interested the boy. Instead, Patrick found himself totally entranced by her constantly-pouting lips, her long legs, and that perfectly bouncy, heart-shaped ass. At 5'10", she stood a few inches taller than him, and it was a source of more than a little confusing shame for the boy, to be so irresistibly attracted to the girl who would soon technically be his sibling.

Nothing could ever happen between them, obviously, but Patrick was smiling today because hidden under his pillow at home was a pair of Mia's red lace thong panties, stolen off the top of the laundry hamper that very morning. More than straightforward glee, it was the kind of anxious, almost involuntary smile one gets in anticipation of doing something dangerous. He knew it was a gross invasion of her privacy and felt genuinely guilty about taking the underwear, but the thought of being so close to something that was wrapped around her gorgeous behind just a few days ago was too intoxicating for the hormonal boy to fight. He would return the panties before anyone else arrived home - no harm done. This afternoon though? They were all his.

Turning the corner onto his street, the Thorn house came into view. Patrick rarely thought about it now but the house - mansion, really - was easily the largest and fanciest in the area, a comical step up from the small apartment their family of three had lived in when the boy was younger. After his first wife passed away young, Patrick's father had coped by throwing himself into his work at the construction firm where he was, at the time, employed as a bricklayer and general handyman. Since that time, Hank's hard graft and assertive personality had seen him achieve promotion on top of promotion, eventually reaching the C-suite with an eye-watering salary.

His father's alpha masculine success story served as inspiration and blueprint for Patrick, who wanted nothing more than to emulate Hank's life path as closely as possible - although ideally without getting his hands dirty quite as often. Despite his athletic prowess though, the boy's slight, skinny frame, chin-length hair and softer features, (inherited from his mother), gave Patrick more of a boy-next-door kind of look; nothing like the square-jaw and hairy, rugged physique of his dad. As a slightly younger teen, he'd always squirmed in embarrassment when his dad picked him up from school; his female classmates - including his now girlfriend - invariably swooned over 'handsome Mr Thorn'. Hank himself had even gently teased his pride-and-joy more than once over the boy's underdeveloped muscles. At this point, Patrick had decided he would simply grow into his father's build, just as soon as he finally got around to joining a gym...

'Mr Thorn' wasn't home at the moment though, since he'd been called away on a long job overseas shortly after the engagement was announced. It would be 8 weeks, the entire summer, before he returned to the house, and in the meantime he had left Patrick, Cheryl and Mia to get to know each other, asking his son to 'take good care of our little ladies until I get back'. And the boy planned to! He would be a perfect gentleman for his home's two newest additions just as soon as he got this Mia thing out of his system. Cheryl was out for dinner with some girlfriends tonight, and her daughter didn't get home from school until 6pm at the earliest, which meant Patrick had a solid hour of uninterrupted alone time with his plunder, more than long enough to do what he needed and return the panties before anyone had any idea they were gone.

It was a flawless plan, but still Patrick's heart beat loudly in his chest as he approached the front door. The anticipation had built inside him to a feverish intensity throughout the day, and he fumbled his keys in the lock a moment before turning the handle and entering the front room, only to freeze instantly, a look of horror on his face.

With an icy look on her face and a pair of red lace thong panties clutched in her right hand, Cheryl stood directly in the door and asked in a sharp, steady voice: "What were these doing in your room?"

--

Frozen in shock and fear, Patrick dropped his bag and managed to stammer out: "What... were- why the hell did you go in my room Cheryl?"

"Don't get sanctimonious with me you little creep," she spat back. "I couldn't help but notice your bed was a total mess earlier, and after my dinner got cancelled, I thought I would do something nice and tidy it for you - even though you're plenty old enough to keep your own room clean. I knew you were a little slob, but I had no idea you could be this disgusting. I can't believe you would do something so vile and predatory to your younger sister! What was the plan, huh Pat? Were you going to masturbate using your sister's underwear? You know that's sexual harassment, don't you? Some judges might even go as far as assault -"

"No!" Patrick cried, tears instantly welling in his eyes. "I wasn't, I promise! I would never do that to Mia, honestly!" His mind raced as he tried to figure out something, any way out of this. If what he'd done got out, his life would be over in a matter of hours. Samantha would dump him without blinking, no university would take him, dad... Jesus, dad might actually disown him. Cheryl's eyes narrowed as she awaited some kind of plausible, reasonable explanation; Patrick knew he had to think fast.

"I... was just, um, jealous... of Mia!" He finally blurted out, unconvincingly.

"Jealous of her panties?" Cheryl retorted, a cynical look on her face.

"Uh... yeah! They're just, really pretty, I just wanted to try them on, just once you know?" He started feeling a little bit more confident in the lie.

"Are you trying to tell me you're transgender, Pat? That's a very serious confession, I want you to be honest with me." Cheryl had her hands at her hips now, still looking as cold as she had when he first walked in.

"No, no not that! I... I think I just wanted to explore my... feminine side?" This felt like a good compromise, he couldn't risk any longer term consequences to this one mistake.

"Your feminine side... uhuh." Patrick couldn't tell if she'd bought it or not. Her face softened. "Well, you know you should have come straight to me about these feelings Pat, I would have been able to help, and you wouldn't have had to resort to such nasty, violating behaviour."

She believed it! Immediately, Patrick breathed a quiet sigh of relief and said: "I know, mum, I'm so, so sorry, I promise nothing like this will ever happen again." He laid it on thick, hoping it would soothe her temper.

"No it won't, because when your sister gets home, you're going to hand these panties back to her and apologise, and you can tell her exactly what you just told me. Then we can talk about what we're going to do to 'explore your feminine side'. Until then, I want you to take these," she said, stuffing the thong into the stunned boy's hands, "And stand over there, facing the corner, in silence."

"What the fuck?!" He was indignant. This wasn't supposed to happen!

"Or should I give your father a ring now? Just because, so you say, you weren't being quite as filthy as I thought, this is still an incredible invasion of your sister's privacy. An apology is the absolute least you could offer."

"I..." Trembling again, Patrick tried once more to figure out some excuse, some way out of accountability, but this time he came up blank. "I, guess you're right."

He gingerly took the panties, holding them between two fingers in each hand as though they were some hazardous material, and slowly walked over to the corner, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. This was unbelievable, he thought, being treated like some kind of naughty child in his own home. Once this episode was over, he'd have to re-establish the ground rules with Cheryl. One thing was for sure, she would not be coming in his room again...

Pt. 2: Cheryl

As she watched Patrick trudge his way to the corner and begin to stew, Cheryl finally let a smile cross her own face. This wasn't quite how she'd expected things to go, but as the wheels began to turn in her mind, she realised it might just be much, much better than she'd even dared to imagine.

--

It had been Mia's stroke of genius actually. The single mother and daughter duo were commiserating at the old flat one night shortly before moving in, after a tipsy Hank had let Cheryl in on the fact that the vast majority of his money was currently sitting in a trust fund with Patrick's name on it.

"Sorry Cheryl but I have to prioritise my own flesh and blood. He's a Thorn man, and he's got a man's head for numbers. It's only fair." Cheryl imitated her fiance in a mockingly pompous tone as she poured her daughter another glass of wine. "Fair - ha! Can you believe he said that shit?"

Mia laughed out loud. "Jesus mum, he sounds positively medieval! How the hell do you put up with this imbecile?"

"Well his looks don't hurt!" Cheryl winked across the table. "But honestly he's head over heels for me darling, I'm sure I'll be able to convince him to cut us in on that cash soon, just give me a little while longer to work my magic."

The two sat in pensive silence for a moment, gazing into their glasses, before Mia raised a devious eye. "You know, I have noticed something a bit weird about that boy..."

"What, Pat? Seems like a perfectly boring, ordinary young man to me. Little wimpier than I'd expect given his old man but, nothing too exciting."

"No, not exciting I suppose..." Mia cocked an eyebrow. "But whenever I see him, he does seem a little, excitable, if you know what I mean."

"Wait, you mean when he sees you?" Cheryl spluttered for a brief moment. "That pipsqueak! Who does he think he is, perving on my daughter? Are you sure?"

"Well it's either that or he puts a little something in his pocket whenever I'm at the house," Mia giggled. "And I mean... really quite little." She held up a forefinger and thumb, an inch apart.

"Ugh! Well he certainly doesn't take after his father in that department then," Cheryl snorted. "Sadly, I don't see how the boy being an ogler really helps us. Even if I did tell Hank, and even if he believed me, I bet he'd still side with the little peeper! It's only natural for a growing boy to look, relax baby," she said, returning to the unflattering impression.

"Well sure... if he just looks, I guess that wouldn't be much. But what if he happened to do a little more than looking?" Mia's voice trailed off a little at the end of the sentence and she looked straight down into her wine.

"Honey... I hope you're not suggesting you - no amount of money is worth putting you through that."

"Gross mum, no!" Mia let out a relieved laugh. "We want him to cut the boy out and us in, remember? How would me seducing his son help us?"

"Ok genius, what's the master plan then?"

Cheryl sat her glass down on the table and Mia laid out the basic idea. She was certain that, given the opportunity, Patrick would be physically incapable of leaving a pair of her underwear untouched. The boy's infatuation was so obvious, so potent, that there was no chance he wouldn't steal a pair if he thought he had a chance of getting away with it. And if she was wrong, Mia laughed, maybe he really was pure enough to deserve all that money.

Cheryl knew the plan was awfully manipulative. It risked wrecking a young man's future, not to mention his relationship with a father he idolised. Mia's point of view was compelling though: if the boy simply resisted stealing the panties; if he could prove himself a respectful young gentleman and not the worst stereotype of a teenage boy, the money was as good as his. The kid's future was in his own hands, quite literally. Given Hank's own track record on the subject though, Cheryl smiled to herself, perhaps the odds weren't in little Pat's favour.

---

On the drive over to Mia's school that evening, Cheryl considered the shamefaced little runt she'd left standing in the corner, clutching a brand new pair of undies. (It was her idea to get a fresh pair. "Not like he'll have any idea, and there's no sense wasting a pair of yours," she told her daughter). Recalling the look of abject fear in his eyes, she felt her disdain calm for a moment, but then she considered the lies. Not content with violating a girl's privacy and dignity for his own sexual gratification, the boy had immediately, easily sunk into weaselly deception and deflection. That smiling abdication of all responsibility, like nothing could ever touch young Master Thorn. He really was the son his father raised. Her resolve hardened again. If Pat wanted to explore his 'feminine' side, she would be more than happy to help him.

Mia was unsurprised but nonetheless pleased (and of course a little disgusted) that her predictions had been entirely correct. Well, almost entirely correct. She listened raptly on the car ride home as Cheryl explained the unexpected development, and her new idea. By the time they reached the driveway at 6, the pair were positively humming with anticipation.

---

As she opened the door to the front room, Cheryl happily noted Patrick had clearly not moved from his position during the 40 minutes she was out. A sexist little chauvinist he may have been, the boy clearly knew he'd been beat. That would make this part easier.

"Patrick." She reinhabited her domineering tone from before. "I have someone here who I think you owe an apology." She shot a wink at Mia, who smiled back, before expertly assuming a hurt expression as the boy turned round to meet her gaze.

"Are those my... oh my God, what are you doing with my underwear Patrick?!" Suppressing a smile, Cheryl marvelled at her daughter's acting.

"I, I'm dearly sorry, Mia. I made a horrible mistake this morning and took your... panties," he cringed even saying the word, "and hid them in my room. I truly regret my actions and hope you will find it in yourself to forgive me, so we can move on as a family."

Cheryl found herself increasingly annoyed as the boy gave this rehearsed speech, sounding some kind of conservative politician; the kind of man for whom consequences simply didn't exist. Well this time there would be consequences, she thought.

"Why did you take my daughter's underwear, Patrick?" By the look on his face, the boy had clearly hoped she'd forget this particular element, but Cheryl maintained an unblinking glare. Say it, she commanded him silently.

"Well... it's super embarrassing, you've gotta promise not to tell anyone but," Patrick rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I wanted to, get in touch with my feminine side? I guess."

"Wait, you wanted to wear them? Are you some kind of girl trapped in a boy's body?" Mia looked at the boy with convincing shock and confusion.

"Patrick has assured me he's quite secure in his gender," Cheryl interrupted, to the boy's nodding assent. She let a small smile cross her lips. "And frankly, he makes a good point. It's awfully antiquated of us to assume these traditional ideas of masculinity are what have to define men, and vice versa."

"Huh, that's actually a really good point mum," Mia chimed in quickly. "We were just learning today in history about how men have used gender roles and expectations to oppress women for centuries!"

Patrick's look of relief had turned to one of worried confusion; what did this have to do with anything?

"Exactly dear. For example, you may be a very attractive young woman, but you exhibit a lot of the traits and qualities we've traditionally associated with men. You're smart and confident, you know exactly what you want and you go after it, no matter who's in your way." Cheryl smiled warmly at her daughter, putting a hand on her shoulder before tilting her head back towards Patrick.

"Pat, on the other hand, clearly feels a little different. In fact, judging by his taste in underwear," she gently pulled the panties out of the boy's hands, holding the lacy, bow-covered confection in front of his face, "his 'feminine side' is a lot bigger than any of us realised. And I have no problem with that - of course. Boys like Patrick should be as free to inhabit whatever roles they choose as you are, Mia. But I think it's important to remember, society's expectations of women have always been quite a bit more constraining than a pretty pair of panties." She let the pair hang off one finger and addressed Patrick directly.

"The demands of femininity; to be pliant, submissive, obedient and above all else, pretty, have dogged women since the dawn of time. Now I'm very happy to help you explore these facets of yourself, but I'm afraid there will be no half-assing it. You want to become a girly boy? Wonderful - but I will be making sure you do it properly."

She paused. "That is, of course, if you're sure that's why you took these..." Cheryl raised her eyebrows at Patrick, almost wishing he'd at least have the guts to be honest, but already knowing quite well at this point how he'd respond. After considering his options for a couple of seconds, the boy audibly swallowed and replied: "I'm... sure, mum. I'd be really grateful if you could help me, with this."

Putting one hand on Patrick's shoulder and giving him back the panties with the other, Cheryl smiled confidently. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it darling, your sister and I will be glad to guide you. You'll be feeling more feminine in no time."

Pt. 3: Patrick

What else was he supposed to have done?! Patrick fumed as sat on his bed, staring angrily at the pair of panties draped over the back of his chair.

--

"Why don't you keep them Pat," Mia had said sweetly. "I think these ones might suit you a little better than me!"

"That's very sweet of you Mia - I wouldn't be feeling nearly so generous in your position! What do you say Patrick?"

He looked at Cheryl, dumbfounded, surely she didn't expect him to actually thank Mia for the panties? Her steely eyes said otherwise. What the hell, Patrick thought, he'd already relented so much tonight, what was one last embarrassment to get it over with.

"Uh, thanks Mia... that's really, cool of you. I guess."

"Excuse me?" Cheryl responded venomously. "We just established that you wanted to wear these panties so badly you'd go through your sister's things without her knowledge, taking advantage of her trusting nature. Perhaps this can be your first lesson in femininity. A girlish 'thank you' should be enthusiastic, but meek and deferential. Why don't you try again?"