Rent or Forfeit 05

Chapter 5: Reflections

Tommy gazed down at his legs, encased in thick, stretchy material and peeking out from beneath a pair of Monica's shorts. Over the shorts, he wore her hoodie and a T-shirt beneath it. Looking up to see Russell the bear smiling at him, Tommy let out a deep, growl-like groan. "Don't say it, Russell," he said firmly. "I know what I look like, but what choice did I have?”

Terrified that the few remaining items of his own clothing would disappear like every other item he tried to wash, Tommy had worn each piece until they reeked of sweat and grime. Sarah had even threatened to burn them if he dared to sit on her new sofa one more time in his filthy clothes. Consequently, for the last few days, he had been relegated to wearing nothing but women’s clothes. Discovering plenty of unisex hoodies and jumpers in his sisters’ closets, he found them surprisingly warm and comfortable, especially with the recent drop in temperature. This realization had swayed his decision, leading him to the bold choice of exclusively wearing female clothing as his forfeit.

The choice seemed to surprise and delight his sisters in equal measure, who even asked if he was sure. Tommy hesitated for a moment when asked but remained firm in his decision. He was determined not to be seen in public looking like he was, especially while carrying one of his sister’s little handbags.

At that moment, Sarah excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving the room momentarily. In her absence, Monica probed Tommy about his job hunting, asking about his strategies for the week ahead, and how he planned to turn his luck around. Annoyed and not in the mood to talk, Tommy responded with vague answers, his mind clouded by regret. When Sarah returned with a big grin on her face, Tommy sensed trouble. “Done,” she announced as she sat down next to Tommy on the sofa. “Feel free to borrow any of our clothes, but make sure you wash them when you're done,” she added, giving Tommy a sly smile. “Oh, but not our underwear. That would be a bit icky,” Monica chimed in, settling on the other side of her brother. “We’ve donated a few old pairs and put them in the top drawer of your dresser, but you might want to buy a few pairs of your own once you start making some money.”

“What have you done?” Tommy shrieked in fear as he dashed from the room. Entering the bedroom, his worst fears were confirmed. All his clothes were gone, including his underwear and beloved Converse. In their place was a bag of hand-me-down tops and, as promised, a drawer full of old panties. There was also a white fur rug on the floor, and on his dresser, replacing the nearly burned-down candles, sat a pink heart-shaped lamp and a hairbrush.

After collapsing on the bed, he cycled through a succession of emotions. First, he felt anger towards Sarah and Monica for doing this to him. This was quickly followed by frustration for allowing himself to be manipulated. Finally, he felt fear. The absence of any male clothing was terrifying; it meant that if he left, whether of his own accord or if tossed out by his sisters, he would be leaving dressed as a woman.

On the first day, Tommy sulked in his room all day, only venturing downstairs late in the evening when hunger got the better of him. After scrounging for leftovers in the fridge, he went to bed hungry and frustrated.

By the second day, determined not to let his sisters’ threats of changing into a girl become a reality, shoeless, Tommy went down to the living room to use the computer. He spent hours researching ways to make money, some traditional, some not. By the time Sarah and Monica returned from work, he had a few new leads to pursue the following day and felt a little more positive.

That positivity faded when Sarah noticed the run in his tights. “You can’t walk around in just your tights; they’re delicate. Look, you’ve ruined this pair,” she lectured. “Take them off right now. Monica, fetch him a new pair.”

As Monica exited the room, Tommy hesitated, glancing down at his girly shorts before looking back up at Sarah.

“Oh no,” Sarah huffed. “Don’t tell me you’re going commando in my shorts.”

"Err... No!" Tommy stammered, his voice filled with embarrassment.

“Eww,” Sarah cried, pulling a disgusted face. “I think this has gone on long enough,” she added, shaking her head. “I really thought you could change, Tom. But I guess I was wrong.”

“You mean, I don’t have to dress like this anymore?” Tommy asked, hope rising in his voice.

“You can dress however you want, but it won’t be in this house,” Sarah replied sternly, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “Why don’t you go and grab anything you want from upstairs.”

“What? No!” Tommy’s voice cracked with horror. “Sarah, please. I have nowhere to go. Please, I can change. Give me another chance.”

Sarah's gaze pierced deep into Tommy's soul, her expression unreadable as she deliberated silently. The air hung heavy with tension, and after a long pause, she exhaled a weary sigh. "Okay, one last chance," she finally conceded, shaking her head slightly as if to dispel her reservations. "But you wear the underwear I gave you and choose a pair of shoes from either mine or Monica's closet. If you ruin any more of our clothes, you're out of here. Is that clear?"

“Yes! Thank you,” Tommy burst out, a wave of relief washing over him. “I won’t let you down. I promise!”

The scolding in the living room provided more than enough motivation for Tommy to first, reluctantly slip into a pair of his sister's old panties - an experience he found both unsettling and disgusting. Second, he began to rummage through his sisters' extensive collection of footwear. To his dismay, Tommy discovered that he could easily fit into both Sarah and Monica's shoes, as it appeared everyone in the house wore the same size. He also reaffirmed something he already knew: his sisters loved high heels, even their sneakers had strangely elevated backs. With no intention of wearing heels, Tommy found his options limited. After carefully narrowing down his choices to three pairs, he finally settled on a pair of sheepskin boots. He wasn’t particularly fond of the leopard print around the ankles, but with their cushioned insides and flat soles, he could at least pretend they were a pair of house slippers.

What followed was another unsuccessful week where he failed to earn any money online. Therefore, on Friday evening, Tommy once again found himself hiding in his room, staring anxiously at the door. The imminent arrival of his sisters and the dreaded hat loomed over him. Taking a moment to examine his reflection, he wondered what new feminine alteration awaited him. Though he didn't want to admit it, he realized that with the right outfit and a bit of makeup, he could probably already pass for a girl.

His hair was silky smooth and voluminous, thanks to the daily use of the shampoo and conditioner. He had also lost weight—likely the result of hardly eating, as his sisters only ever prepared vegan dishes and served them in small portions. Initially, the change had gone unnoticed due to the baggy jumpers and hoodies he usually wore. But now, recognizing his thinner frame, he couldn't deny that it made him look more like the very thing he wanted least—a young woman.

(See image 05)

Mesmerized by how long and feminine his legs now looked, Tommy was gazing at his reflection when a sudden knock at the door startled him. Quickly, he leapt onto his bed, not wanting his sisters to catch him examining himself in the mirror. Once settled with his legs tucked beneath him, he called out for them to enter.

Monica opened the door and walked in, followed closely by Sarah, who was carrying the infamous hat. Tommy's heart began to race as they approached. "Alright, Tom. Shall we get this over with quickly tonight?" Monica asked, seating herself next to her brother, who looked into her eyes and simply nodded.

Without hesitation, Tommy reached deep into the hat. He rummaged through the remaining options, feeling a sense of unease as he realized there weren't many left. He pulled out two pieces of paper and dropped them on the bed.

Opening his eyes, he unfolded them one at a time. The first elicited a loud sigh. It read, ‘Get hair extensions.’ Glancing up at Sarah, who was grinning mischievously at him, he shook his head and redirected his attention to the second paper, hoping for something less extreme. He was sorely disappointed, opening the folded paper to see the words, ‘Get a spray tan,’ written neatly in Monica's handwriting.