Feminize her son

I sat in my room crying. I didn't know what to do, but I'd have to do something.

"Come here, son," I heard from across the hall.

I didn't move.

"Come here or I'll hurt your mommy," the voice beckoned. I got up and walked back into my parents' room.

My mom was still naked but now she held a pair of scissors at her neck.

"What are you doing?" I implored.

"Unless you do what I say, I'll stick this in your mom's neck, you dumb fuck!"

I stood perfectly still. "Please, put it down." Peter lowered my mom's arm. The scissors move away from her throat.

"Maybe I'll just cut off a nipple," the voice of my bully laughed and raised the scissors to my mom's exposed tit.

"No, I'll do whatever you say," I pleaded.

"That's more like it," my mom's voice said and the scissors lowered. "Take off your clothes."

I still couldn't move. I was thinking he was going to make me fuck my mom. And part of me wanted to as my cock was still hard from watching her masturbate.

"Take your clothes off NOW!"

Shaking I did. Shirt, pants, underwear were all off in seconds. I stood there with my hard-on pointing at my mother's body.

"Now, put on your sister's panties and bra."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go into your sister's room. Put on her panties and bra and a dress. You've got two minutes or else," my mother's voice commanded.

I ran to my sister's room next to mine and changed into her panties, bra, and a pink dress. We're twins so we're about the same size. I pulled the panties over my hard on. The feel of the panties only made my dick that much harder. I ran back to my parents' bedroom.

Peter was feeling my mom's tits again.

"She really does have a great fucking rack," he panted. He was getting turned on again.

"Please don't hurt her," I begged.

Putting on make-up was the next command and I walked over to my mother's dresser. At his direction, I put on lipstick, mascara and eye shadow.

"Now say how lovely you look," he said.

"I look lovely," I muttered.

"No, say it like a girl," my mother's voice commanded and I saw the hand grip the scissors again.

"I look lovely," I said in a higher effeminate voice. My mother's face looked pleased.