I am a switch

“I don’t really want to label my relationship like that. It isn’t my style.” DJ’s voice was soft as he looked around his sister’s room. Chewing lightly on his painted and plump bottom lip he thought over the situation. “I don’t want to be in charge all the time. But, I certainly don’t want him to be in charge all of the time either.” Frustration welled up in his mind as he stood there. Finally, he stomped his foot in anger. “Look, just do what you are going to do and let me get through this.”

‘Got it. Switchy witchy. I’m sure the two of you will enjoy it. Heck, maybe even another person will too…’ With those words rattling around in DJ’s brain, his body began to move about the bedroom. Stepping back to his sister’s lingerie drawer again, his hands reached in and fished out a new pair of black lace top thigh high stockings. Tossing those to the bed, his hands continued to sort through the lacy fabric until it pulled out a black lace garterbelt.

Sitting down on the bed, PK quickly took over full control of pulling the long stockings up DJ’s smooth legs. Of course, she may have dialed up his sensitivity to such things as a soft moan escaped his lips while she **** his fingers to pull the second one up. ‘Like that huh?’ Wrapping the garterbelt about his skinny waist and turning it around so it was in the correct spot was simple enough. Yet DJ was more surprised when his fingers laced the garter straps through the legs of the panties.

“Why not over?” It felt odd to be curious about this. He knew he should have completely different feelings about some entity forcing him into his sister’s lingerie. Yet he didn’t feel the need to try and stop it.

‘Easier to get them off.’ The short answer showed that even ageless entities have problems lining up back seamed stockings and getting the garter on perfectly.

With that taken care of, his body stepped over to the closet. His hands sifted through the tops on hangers for a moment before reaching in and pulling out a black crop top with built in fishnet sleeves. The collar hanging from the hanger seemed to go with the outfit, so he pulled that off and wrapped it around his slender neck first. Pulling on the top, he was surprised at how easily PK managed to sort out the mess of straps and buckles. Not to mention getting his large breasts situated without a bra.

With the top half of his outfit taken care of, his hands slipped over and began to sort through the skirts. DJ was surprised when PK seemed to select one of his sister’s longer skirts. Stepping into it was difficult. The skin tight black leather knee length pencil skirt had a rear zip and faux corset lacing across the back, while the front was flat and tight. Taking a few minutes to get it in place, he could feel the tightness of the skirt, combined with the satin lining, there was a rubbing against his cock that was not at all unpleasant.

Standing in his stocking feet and looking at the mirror, he could see that the tight skirt and panties would not be sufficient to keep his erections at bay. “Is this gonna be a problem?” DJ asked the spirit while motioning to the growing outline.

‘Nah. Sure, I mean like everyone is gonna see it. But you won’t like get arrested or get detention or anything because of it. The rules are a bit different now that I am here.’ PK bent DJ’s body over at the hips, his wide ass pressing back against the skirt and showing off just how much of his mother’s genetics he had also gotten. Leaning down, his long nailed fingers selected a pair of black stiletto heeled oxford pumps. His stocking feet slipped into each one easily. Worried about lacing them with his new long nails, he could feel PK’s influence as it went quickly.

Walking in the new skirt and heels was a completely different experience to anything DJ had gone through. The skirt had no give to it and restricted his steps. ‘Yep, that’s why they call it a hobble skirt.’ DJ rolled his eyes at the unwanted and unneeded information. Combining the lack of movement with the height of his heels and his gait became a mincing walk. Somehow, he still managed to get his hips to sway with each step.

Mincing over to the door, he reached out and hooked his hands through the strap of a black purse. Now fully made up and dressed, he stepped out into the hallway. Hearing his heels on the hardwood floor for the first time excited and made him nervous.

“So now what?” PK’s influence allowed DJ to get down the stairs of his house thankfully. Each step took significantly more planning and effort than he was used to. The sound of his heels echoed across an empty house like an AK-47 as he made his way to the garage.

‘Well, now we borrow mommy’s car. Cause you certainly aren’t using Jaime’s bike in this skirt.’ DJ’s finger nails looped through the keyring hanging next to the garage and pressed the buttons to open the car door. Sitting down into the chair was another experience in the difference between masculine and hyper feminine clothes.

Without asking where he was going, DJ resigned himself to see this ride through. Pulling his mother’s car out into the street, he sealed off his house with the remote to the garage door and pulled onto the street letting his instincts tell him where to go.