Sibling Rivalry: Pink With Hearts
Amy awoke the next morning, trying her best to ignore the events of the following day. The embarrassment had been too much to bear, so she had chosen to pretend that it had not happened. Breakfast was not easy, with Jess sat next to her, a snigger across her face. She still had no clothes to wear.
“What am I wearing today?” she asked her mother.
“I’ve got something for you to put on upstairs. We’re going to the mall today, and we can pick you up some outfits.”
Amy shuddered at the thought. She finished her cereal, and went upstairs to prepare herself for the day. After showering, she wrapped herself in a towel and entered her bedroom. Once there, she discovered that her mother had meticulously folded her outfit for the day on the edge of her bed. It pretty much resembled her old school uniform. A grey, knee-length skirt, with a white blouse and grey pullover. As she picked it up to examine it with disgust, her eyes grew wide at the sight beneath it. A pair of pink underpants, with little red hearts on them. They were all worn and so very un-sexy, as she hadn’t even picked them out of her draw in at least 5 years. She contemplated going without the underwear, but if her mother found out there would be hell to pay. She slipped into her panties, and realised there was nothing else.
“Mum!” she yelled. “Where’s my bra?”
Her mother appeared in the doorway and Amy quickly picked her skirt up and held it in front of her, embarrassed by the hideous underwear, even in front of her Mum.
“Little girls don’t wear bras, dear,” she replied, patronisingly.
Amy sighed, and put the remaining clothes on. By the time she had finished scraping her long brown hair back into a ponytail, and applied a hint of make-up, her Mum was already growing impatient.
The car journey to the mall was unbearable. Amy was reluctant to talk to her mother, with the contempt she held her for her at this moment in time. Instead, they listened to the radio. Amy couldn’t recall the actual songs that were on; her head was elsewhere, which is where her body longed to be. They eventually arrived at their destination, and without much conversing, Amy and her mother headed straight for the clothes store. Once inside, Amy was told to wait, as her mother would be choosing the outfits and Amy would only slow her down. So she did as she was told for once and parked herself against the wall. As she stood there in anticipation, she noticed two schoolmates shopping together. Anna and Denise, whom Amy could not stand. If Amy was a b*tch, these two were super-b*tches. They were both cheerleaders; both stunningly beautiful, with perfect bodies. They hadn’t noticed her at this point. She began to browse the lingerie section, before returning to her original spot. After a while, her mother returned, carrying several items.
“Here you go. Let’s try these on.” her mother said with an almost psychotic smile.
Amy took the pile from her and headed off to the changing rooms.
“Where are you going?” her mother asked.
“Fitting rooms.”
“They’re occupied. Just do it here, we haven’t got much time.”
“You’re joking!”
“It’s only a skirt! No one wants to look at you in your knickers, missy! I’ll stand right here.”
Amy took a deep breath, and quickly removed her skirt. She immediately shot her hand down to cover her knickers, and looked around. No one was looking. Standing in a relatively busy shop in her underwear would have been bad enough, but doing it in these childish pink panties just made it a hundred times worse. One hand covering her underwear, she beckoned for the new skirt with her other hand. In a panic, she scrambled to get it on. It would not fit. Handing it back to her mother, she pushed her for the next item. It was a hideously childish dress. She tried to get it over her head, but it would not go.
“Perhaps if you take off your clothes it might fit, dear.”
“I’m not going topless in here. I’m going to the changing room. Give me my skirt and the rest of the pile, I’ll be back in five minutes.” she said, fidgeting and paranoid that someone might see her in her knickers.
“Just go. No one cares that your in your knickers dear.”
“But…” Amy was shocked. But she couldn’t kick up a fuss. Hurriedly, she grabbed the pile from her mother, and shuffled across the store. She walked quickly, but was soon noticed. There were gasps and laughs as people caught sight of this pretty brunette, walking across the store in her little pink panties. With her hands holding the pile, she could do nothing to hide her shame. She just looked down, especially to avoid eye contact with the cute shop assistant.
“Nice knickers!” she heard him laugh as she wiggled passed him.
The fitting rooms were across the store. She must have passed at least twenty people. Some of them applauded, some of them were just shocked. Most commented on the panties themselves. She eventually reached the fitting rooms, and to her dismay found herself in a queue. She wiggled in discomfort as she stood in the middle of the clothes store; her pink knickers on show to all and sundry. She saw everyone staring and her and whispering to each other. For five minutes she stood with every inch of her long, golden legs and babyish underpants exposed to the general public. She even had to endure a small boy stood behind her, chanting ‘I can see your knickers!’ at her. There was nothing she could do, her hands were full. She tried to imagine herself in jeans. But the reality always came back to her. She only had her knickers on. Somewhere, she could hear her mother watching and laughing. She also heard two girls, which she thought to be Anna and Denise, in hysterics. She just prayed they had not recognised her.
Eventually, after an eternity had passed, she reached the desk before the changing rooms. She was greeted by a clerk, who was trying not to laugh.
“Excuse me miss, but are you aware that your briefs are on show?” she said with a smile.
“Yes. Just let me into a changing room, please.” Amy spoke through her teeth.
She was handed a tag, and literally sprinted into the cubicle. Behind her she heard applause. How could she ever face that crowd again. How could she ever forgive her mother? She sat down for a while, and stared at the pile of clothes she had been given to try on.
|