Transformed by Nature

I then went to the kitchen, made two sandwiches, filled two large glasses with juice, put them on a tray, and returned to the bedroom. Ken looked completely bemused as I got beside him and placed the tray on the bed.

I smiled at him. "To fully enjoy the rest of the day, we need to replenish our reserves, so eat and drink. It will be fun burning off the excess calories."

Ken twigged straightaway, grinned, and devoured his sandwich and juice. As I did the same, I noticed the unexpected. While in the laundry and kitchen, I had been wandering around bare-chested, but now sitting up in bed with Ken, I had the bed covers pulled up to cover my petite titties. By contrast, his chest was bare. Why were my instincts, in this case, pushing me towards demure girl modesty?

The answer came as soon as I reached over to put the tray of remnants on the bedside table. As I did this, the bed covers slipped, and Ken, unable to contain himself, immediately cupped my exposed little boobs in his hands. As I sighed with delight, I lost all inhibitions, and we began heavy petting. Soon, his cock was erect and desperate for action, but as he was about to get on top of me, he glanced disapprovingly at the frumpy gym knickers. However, this dismay disappeared when I pulled back their waistband, allowing him to plunge his cock into its now-accessible nest. Furthermore, he gasped with surprise when I hooked the waist elastic over his ball sac. He moaned with delight when the elastic snapped back, pulling the shaft into the v groove and trapping his balls against my thighs.

I felt his genitals quiver and tremble in anticipation as he pulled back and readied for the first stroke. I groaned as the shaft ploughed its way into my v tunnel, and we both gasped when the whole length disappeared, and Ken's balls slapped against my thighs when the waist elastic snapped back. That lit Ken's blue touch paper, and he then rode me to cloud nine with all the power and enthusiasm he could muster. Indeed, he was almost insatiable. So, we coupled three more enthralling times that afternoon. On each occasion, Ken took much longer to reach climax. So, we were both exhausted and virtually running on fumes as ride six passed five minutes duration. However, determined to finish what we started, we kept at it for ten minutes until Ken's cock finally spasmed and delivered the final dregs of cum from his weary and well-drained balls. I am unsure whether it was joy or relief, but I had the most amazing high of the day as the last drops of spunk coated my now very sensitive perineum. I was still buzzing when exhaustion took over, and I fell into a deep slumber, cuddled up with Ken.

I do not know how long I was asleep, but I was suddenly awoken by Ken shaking my shoulder. "Wake up; Mum and my sister will be home soon."

What followed was a bit of a blur. Ken and I quickly got up. He dashed to his room, changed, and went to the kitchen to prepare a light meal. I opened the bedroom window, pulled back the bed covers, tidied up the sheets, and sprayed them, the covers, and the room with perfume to mask the distinct fragrances of our day's exertions. I then headed to the laundry, where I washed the cum-stained gym knickers, wrung them dry as best I could, and placed them at the bottom of the laundry basket. I had a fleeting tinge of regret as I realised their best days were undoubtedly over. After the repeated over-extension of the waist elastic and the harsh, every-way stretching they suffered during Ken's four enthusiastic romps, they hung very loose on me. They would certainly never again be a good fit for Jane. However, while she would never know it, the regulation knickers more than paid their dues by ensuring Ken's genitals were kept excited and giving their best and, equally important, by soaking up Ken's more than generous outputs of spunk. As a result, there was no typical staining of the sheets, despite our prolonged feral actions between them.

On noticing several more pairs of bottle-green school knickers in the laundry basket, I selected a pair. I put them on because my crotch, despite the ample lubrication, was raw and tender and unlikely to enjoy encountering my coarse boys' drawers. I decided immediately that gym knickers with their large, thick, but very soft gusset would give better protection, and I can say they did.

I scampered back to Jane's room. By now, the sweaty aromas of our between-the-sheets deeds were gone, replaced by sweet feminine fragrances again. I shut the window, made up the bed, picked up my clothes, and went to Ken's room, where I got changed. As it happens, just in the nick of time. While dressing, I heard Wilma and Jane talking with Ken, followed by someone entering Jane's room. Thankfully, I was fully clothed, sitting apparently reading a book, when there was a gentle knock on the bedroom door, and a beautiful girl looked in.

"Ah, there you are, Bill. Come and join us for a meal. You can tell us about the school project you and Ken are working on."

My brain was racing as I got up and followed her. Ken had obviously come up with an explanation for why I was there, but what sort of task would we be doing? Thankfully, an idea came to mind: study the effect of regular exercise on adolescents' body weight. I could easily prattle on about that for ages. Jane and her Mum were happy and impressed that Ken was involved in this work.

"Did you practice some of the exercises today?"

"Yes, we cannot ask others to do anything we will not do. How did you guess that?"

"You both look hot and dishevelled, so you must have been very active. Just make sure you do not ask people to do too much."

"You are correct; we burnt the candle at both ends today. But finding out our limits was useful and fun." Ken nodded his enthusiastic agreement.

Fortunately, the conversation turned to the day's adventures for Wilma and Jane. At the same time, we shared a light meal. Afterwards, I helped wash up, said my goodbyes and headed home. I made slow progress because even the gym knickers could not fully soothe the tenderness in my perineum.

Fatigue kicked in big time once I reached home. So, after exchanging pleasantries with Mum and my sisters, I went straight to bed. However, I could not sleep as the mind-boggling events of the day played out repeatedly in my head. What did it all mean? Beforehand, I considered Ken, a good friend interested in girls' wear. However, once lust took hold, we instantly became a couple in which I was, in essence, his girlfriend.

Furthermore, I was surprisingly content to play this subordinate role. I seemed to intuitively know the right moves to turn Ken on, despite having no prior experience of boy-girl or boy-boy intimate relationships. Emotionally I seemed to think and act mainly in a female way. Physically, what I considered man boobs reacted with joy to touch and suckling by Ken. In contrast, that ultimate symbol of maleness, my cock, did not stir one iota, despite significant erotic stimulation to my groin. What was happening to me? Am I transforming, and if so, into what, a girl?

I eventually fell asleep in the early morning hours. I did not wake up until Mum entered my room in the afternoon to check if I was okay.

"Yes, I am fine, just very tired. I should not have tried to outcompete Ken, and now I am paying for my stupidity."

"Well, it never fails to surprise me how boys, unlike girls, never grow up and continue to do stupid things. You get no sympathy from me. Just come through in an hour for afternoon tea."

"Thanks, Mum. I will be there."

As she left, I sighed and flopped back into the pillows, thankful that the duvet covered my lower regions. I still wore Jane's school knickers, and Mum would not have approved. Although I knew keeping them on while in bed was risky, the soft gusset so cosseted and comforted the stressed taint that I decided it was worthwhile, and it certainly was. They helped me rest very well, even though I was occasionally awakened by an intense tingling sensation in my perineum as the cloth rubbed against it when I moved involuntarily.

By Monday morning, I was tickety-boo and ready to face another school week. I gave Ken his laundered bra, pantie sets for the week, and Jane's gym knickers, as usual. He, in turn, gave me back the items from Saturday. From then on, things returned to normal, or as normal as they got for me. I continued to wear the underwear provided by my sisters. Also, I still exchanged knickers with Ann daily as a mark of deference to her and to reinforce our special bond.

My sisters also actively encouraged me to cross-dress on Saturdays, when Mum was often away for the day. They set about training me in essential feminine skills, including posture, gait, mannerisms, style, and makeup. At first, these lessons were confined to the house and garden, but eventually, they decided I should go into town with them. While this was not my first time in public as a girl, I was still on tenterhooks and afraid because we always met so many girls who knew my sisters. I was very aware of being intently scrutinised by them. Unlike boys, these girls did not focus exclusively on my boobs; instead, they constantly scanned me intently from head to toe, looking for the slightest imperfection or flaw in my appearance. At first, I found this very unsettling, but then I noticed I was not the exclusive focus of their attention. They were judging my sisters just as meticulously. Indeed, my sisters were also evaluating them.

While I was shocked by these routine eagle-eye assessments, they taught me the absolute need for care in my dress, manner, and appearance; everything must be tickety-boo. Fortunately, although I occasionally got a few put-downs from girls overly full of themselves, no one suspected I was not a girl. Being along with my sisters made life easier. I certainly would not have carried it off so well had I been alone.

These antics with my sisters were a general delight and helped to build my confidence as a girl. However, one itch they did not cure was my yearning for Ken. I had the hots for him but could not get time with him without arousing suspicion. Almost three frustrating weeks elapsed before I figured out a solution. I arranged to meet him immediately after the close of school on Friday in a nearby but well-hidden forest clearing. An obviously happy Ken was there before me and had a special surprise. In his hand, he had the pair of Jane's school knickers we had so overstretched during our first vigorous play together. Ken had secretly retrieved them as a memento of our wonderful day together. He was now putting them back into the erotic melting pot.

"Oh my, you kept them. Were you not scared Jane would notice they were missing?"

Ken grinned. "No, Jane hates gym knickers and probably has no idea or cares how many she has. By contrast, as I painfully learned, she knows every pair of her pretty panties and where they should be. But enough of this, we know what we are here for."

Ken handed me the knickers and headed off to the far side of the clearing to undress. Given what we were about to engage in, this might seem a bit unnecessary modesty. However, that was just his way. I quickly stripped to the buff and then stepped into the school knickers. My groin quivered with anticipation as they settled in place. So, I was already on a high as Ken and I walked towards one another, embraced, and slipped into sweet snog. Initially, we were apprehensive because we knew how people would react if they discovered two boys making out while dressed only in girls' underwear. But we quickly relaxed, safe in the knowledge the clearing was so well hidden we could never be seen, and once pure lust took over, we would not have even cared had we been in any peril. So, for the next two hours under the warm sunshine, we made love uniquely and took each other to bliss. We were weary but walking on air when we finally redressed and headed home, happy that this joyous prelude to the weekend could be the norm from now on. Even inclement weather need not stop us. For we found a little used barn at the edge of the wood ready and waiting to have its windows steamed up by some hot action, and on many a Friday during winter, they were.

As to be expected, the pair of Jane's school knickers we mistreated during our wild weekly love play eventually gave way and became unusable. Given the great joy they gave us, we decided not to throw them into the trash. They deserved better than that. So, we buried them in the forest clearing just a few feet away from where they had valiantly done their erotic duty. Fortunately, I was able to buy replacements at the time. One of these new pairs was surreptitiously returned to Jane's underwear drawer. At the same time, the remainder were kept by Ken and me. In time, one by one, they joined the initial pair in the final resting place in the clearing.

With great care and my sisters' help, Mum was entirely unaware of my pantie-wearing subterfuge, or so I thought. However, I should have known that the significant changes in the weekly laundry, the higher throughput of panties, and the lower numbers of underpants were bound to arouse Mum's suspicions. So, she was keeping a close eye on me, and one day, about eight weeks in, she spotted a distinctive pink waistband peeking out above my trousers. That was all the evidence Mum needed. She grabbed my arm and dragged me off to her bedroom.

As she closed and locked the door, she exploded. "Why are you wearing panties?"

At first, I could not form words but finally uttered, "I like them; they feel much better than drawers."

"Well, that is not your choice to make, young man. Boys are not allowed to wear panties, particularly their sisters' ones. You can guess the penalty for this disgusting behaviour, take off your trousers and kneel over my bed."

I quivered with fear and groaned when Mum picked up her heaviest wooden hairbrush and moved behind me. Evidently, the red mist had descended, and she was about to provide free vocal entertainment for the neighbours by making my bum burn big time. Mum unleashed a withering strike onto the centre of my panties without further ado. She expended so much effort that she exhaled loudly as the brush thudded into my rear. In turn, I screamed as its fiery malevolence seared throughout my buttocks. While I previously guessed that panties would give little protection, finding they provided virtually none was still a great shock. The sheer agony caused by that first hit matched that from the only time I got on the bare.

I now shivered and howled as I realised that twelve bottom-scorching whacks were about to follow that one. My pitiful pleading reactions had no effect on Mum. She was fully engaged with the task at hand and relentless. My bottom was glowing like an open fire, and I shrieked non-stop as the thirteenth and final strike unleashed its venom. However, just as my bum was soaking up this last quota of agonising pain, my groin had some delightful stirrings. While my cock remained asleep, the glans tremored frantically as fluid spurted from it. My crotch was immediately engulfed with pleasing sensations, which, despite my pain, gave me a feeling of contentment. As I savoured this unexpected moment of pleasure, Mum spotted the spreading stain on my knickers.

"Goodness, Ann's panties must have a powerful feminine juju. You have just climaxed like a girl."

Before Mum's words sunk in, I began howling again as this temporary joy disappeared and the pain returned with a vengeance. Then Mum did what good Mums do. She lifted me up, cuddled me in her arms, kissed me on both cheeks and whispered in my ear.

"Hush, dear. Your punishment is complete. Please stay away from Ann's underwear in future so that we do not have this unpleasantness again. Believe me, I will be keeping a close eye on you."

Mum then led me back to my bedroom. There, I was undressed, put into boys' pyjamas, and laid on my bed with my rear exposed to the cooling air. Mum kissed me on the cheek and said, "Goodnight, sleep tight", before switching off the light and closing the door behind her.

Understandably, I could not get to sleep. However, this was only in part to the pain. I was, in fact, captivated by the significance of Mum's words. As she graphically said, I had 'climaxed like a girl' because of my spanking. It was a mark of my ignorance that, before that comment, I was unaware that girls could orgasm. Stupid, I know, but like all sexual matters, it was never discussed back then. Well, at least I now knew. The main issue was why I had cum in this girly way. Mum suggested it was due to the feminising properties of Anna's panties. While I admit her undies had very enthralling sensual effects on me, this reasoning seemed implausible. Still, I could think of no better explanation.

For the next few days, I recuperated and stuck with boy's underwear and, as best I could, kept out of the way of Mum and my sisters. However, Ann eventually told me Mum was quizzing them about their involvement in my transgressions because she did not believe I carried them out alone. Ann had told Mum the whole story to ensure her sisters were not dragged in. Well, except for the bit about us swapping undies. To Ann's surprise, Mum seemed to understand and accept the situation.

I found it hard to believe Mum's views on my pantie indiscretions could change so radically, so I remained on edge despite Ann's assurances. As a result, I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard her stern, booming voice one morning.

"Bill, come here at once. We have a lot to talk about."

I was anxious and shaking like a leaf when I entered her room and shut the door. But these terrors quickly dispelled when I saw that she was not angry. Far from it, she was smiling.

"Calm down; you have no need to worry. I succumbed to the red mist when I caught you wearing Ann's panties, which was wrong. In my anger, I forgot important advice from my mother on parenting boys."

When you were still a youngster, she told me, "Mothers are told not to get close to their sons, for fear they will become Mama's Boys. The problem with this tough approach is that boys are ignorant of their inherent female side and are completely at a loss if it comes out of hiding during adolescence. So, many a macho lad goes off the rails, acts out, or has mental problems when they suddenly find themselves dealing with a bewildering array of alien/unmanly instincts. If Bill begins to show an unusual interest in girls' things during his teens, do not slap him down. Instead, help him understand and deal with his strange feelings and teach him it is okay for a boy to be curious about a girl's things and have a tender side. He will thank you and be a better person for it."

"Your brothers are perfect examples. During their late teens, one by one, they regularly went through my unmentionables. Finally, they began wearing them under their boys' clothes. I gave my first son a brutal beating when I first caught him, but that was the only time he or the others were punished for this misbehaviour. Instead, although going against their dad's wishes, I carefully helped them understand and embrace their sensitive, more feminine side. Indeed, I placed a selection of panties, camisoles, and bras in the bottom of each boy's wardrobe so that they did not have to rummage through my knicker drawer when the urges took them. My boys were delighted with this, and judging by the amounts of women's undies I washed every week, I can say my sons preferred to wear lingerie most, if not all, of the time while they stayed at home. After that, who knows? I can only say that this approach did not turn them into sissies. Indeed, they grew up to be good husbands and fathers, just a little macho light, so to speak."

"With three demanding daughters to raise, I forgot my mother's sage words. I recalled them only during my chat with Ann, and I immediately felt sick for having failed you and my Mum. I know the clock cannot be turned back, but I can now help you explore and possibly encompass the feminine side you have discovered.