Texts and Laments

His closet wasn't empty. It just wasn't there. It was as if the architect who designed Tim's house had realized that there would be one resident without the ability to own his own clothes, and omitted it from the drawings.

"Great," he said, his hand resting on the wall where his closet door used to be.

He was uncomfortable. The shirt was a little short, Tabby was tall for a girl, but still three inches shorter than he, and showed a bit of his belly. The pants were tight, just a bit too tight, and obviously a fit for a girl. His man-bits felt horrible, squished, constricted. Tabby's panties didn't help, holding him even tighter inside the denim, riding up his ass.

It had felt good to be looked at with desire by Nancy, but was this worth it? No, Tim decided, it absolutely wasn't. How was this justice?! How was this fair?! The next time he saw that old woman, if he ever saw her again, she'd be getting a piece of his mind. She tricked him! Tim had been convinced that she was on his side, that what she was able to provide would be better than his regular life. But this? This was much worse.

Maybe the next day he could head to the mall and pick up some clothes, some men's clothes, of his own. He'd have to wear something from Tabby to get there, but then he could change after he paid. That would work, wouldn't it? Thinking back to the conversation with his sister, she seemed baffled by the idea that he could own clothes, as if reality had been rewritten so that it was an impossibility. Would he be refused service if he tried to buy them? Would the workers act as if he were buying clothes for his sister?

The whole thing made his head spin.

Tim's cell phone beeped, indicating the arrival of a text message. Pulling his phone from the front pocket of his sister's jeans (how it had wedged itself into such a tight space there was a mystery), he looked at the screen. Unknown number.

Hey

Hey, Tim wrote back. Who is this?

Nancy. Gary game me your number. Wanted to make sure you could text if you need a ride.

Thanks. I'll make sure to text.

There was a pause of a couple minutes, which Tim used to add Nancy's number to his contacts. Just as he was about to put his phone on his charger, it beeped again.

You looked good today. Your sister has good style.

Tim groaned. Even texting with his crush he couldn't escape what the old woman had done. How could he? Wearing his sister's clothes seemed to be a defining characteristic of him. No longer was he 'Tim from school', or 'Tim with brown hair', now he was 'Tim who wears Tabby's clothes'.

Thanks, was all he could think to send. He could feel his ears burning in embarrassment.

Gary's going out with his parents tonight, and I'm bored

Tim paused before he responded, taking a moment to stick his hands down Tabby's jeans and adjust her panties to unsuccessfully give his penis a bit more space. Was Nancy dropping hints?

Want to see a movie?

We'd have to take the bus - my car, remember?

I can borrow my mom's car lol

He knew he shouldn't. Tim could feel it. Going out with Nancy was bad news. She was his buddy's girlfriend! But then again, he had already taken the bad end of the deal in losing his clothes. Why not enjoy a bit of the good end? If what the old woman had said was true, they probably would be breaking up soon anyway...

I'm game

Great - CU in an hour. Wear something pretty!

"Shit."

Thanks to telaviv telaviv for the idea!