a day as someone else
Sighing, you agree. You bend down to pick up your clothes when you feel a pair of hands squeeze your butt hard. "Hey!" you squeal in your high pitched voice.
"Sorry, couldn't resist," he laughs, giving your butt a pat. "Please continue."
You quickly fold up the clothes, ready to get this over with as soon as possible. You lift them up and walk over to the kitchen sink, open the cabinet and pull out the trash bin.
You grimace at the insides: the remains of what appeared to be a turkey. You turn to Billy, who had followed you over. "Do I have to put them in?"
"Hey, you promised, babe," Billy answered with a grin.
Grimacing, you put your clothes inside the bin. Promising never to do another favor for Billy again, you ask, "What now?"
"Now, we relax on the couch," he answers with a smile.
"But what about me?" you ask. "I'm freezing!"
"Don't worry, babe," he smiles, "You can share my blanket."
"No," you say, shaking your head. "I've had enough. I demand a change of clothes."
"Fine," he grumbles. "I've got something that'll fit you." He walks into his room.
You grab the blanket, and wrap it around youself. After a minute, Billy comes out holding a short black dress.
"I got this for Amy when we were going out, but she dumped me before I could give it to her." He tosses it to you.
"Damn it, Billy!" you yell. "I am not your doll! I'm not even really a girl!"
"You certainly look like a girl," Billy argues. "I got a *very* good look."
"I am not a girl! I'm a boy, I'm your friend!"
"So you say," Billy says without any confedince in your story. "But I say you have," he taps each of your breasts, "Two. Boobs. And one..."
You swat his hand away before he could touch you there. "I didn't always," you protest.
"I see little evidence of this," he notes. "What I do have is great evidence that you are a girl, and girls wear dresses."
"I'm really me," you protest. "Ask me anything!"
"____ could have coached you," he says. "Put it on, or get out wearing nothing but ____'s dirty pants."
"Sorry, couldn't resist," he laughs, giving your butt a pat. "Please continue."
You quickly fold up the clothes, ready to get this over with as soon as possible. You lift them up and walk over to the kitchen sink, open the cabinet and pull out the trash bin.
You grimace at the insides: the remains of what appeared to be a turkey. You turn to Billy, who had followed you over. "Do I have to put them in?"
"Hey, you promised, babe," Billy answered with a grin.
Grimacing, you put your clothes inside the bin. Promising never to do another favor for Billy again, you ask, "What now?"
"Now, we relax on the couch," he answers with a smile.
"But what about me?" you ask. "I'm freezing!"
"Don't worry, babe," he smiles, "You can share my blanket."
"No," you say, shaking your head. "I've had enough. I demand a change of clothes."
"Fine," he grumbles. "I've got something that'll fit you." He walks into his room.
You grab the blanket, and wrap it around youself. After a minute, Billy comes out holding a short black dress.
"I got this for Amy when we were going out, but she dumped me before I could give it to her." He tosses it to you.
"Damn it, Billy!" you yell. "I am not your doll! I'm not even really a girl!"
"You certainly look like a girl," Billy argues. "I got a *very* good look."
"I am not a girl! I'm a boy, I'm your friend!"
"So you say," Billy says without any confedince in your story. "But I say you have," he taps each of your breasts, "Two. Boobs. And one..."
You swat his hand away before he could touch you there. "I didn't always," you protest.
"I see little evidence of this," he notes. "What I do have is great evidence that you are a girl, and girls wear dresses."
"I'm really me," you protest. "Ask me anything!"
"____ could have coached you," he says. "Put it on, or get out wearing nothing but ____'s dirty pants."