Stuarts Story

STUARTS STORY

 

My aunt came to visit and stayed in the spare bedroom. She went out for drinks with my mum leaving my dad looking after us. After bedtime 11 year old me snuck out of my room with the intention of trying to find some of my aunts clothes and trying them on. This was to see how they felt and and looked and ultimately to masturbate as the taboo was, and still is, a massive turn on to me. I'd worn my mums underwear but this took the risquè element to a new level as it was my aunts clothes I was searching for.

 

I stealthily crossed the landing and quietly closed the door behind me. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor and I was able to find some sexy knickers and a bra. I immediately went hard. I undressed quickly and put them on. There was also a skirt and a blouse and so I put those on too. I looked in the mirror and saw a thing of beauty and was so happy, and turned on.

 

[I didn't know what to do with makeup at the time but do remember thinking I should try that one day and now I know more I think it may be nice to put some on in this scene]

 

I don't know what compelled me to do this but I climbed up onto the windowsill and sat in the window. The curtains were drawn and I peeked through to see if there was anyone who would be able to see me. [The window overlooks other back gardens and a few houses in the distance]. I was confident it was clear and so I drew back the curtains. The window was slightly open and I remember the warm breeze hitting the silky blouse and moving it against my skin felt so sensual. I sat there and started to whisper to the world

"Hello world here I am. I'm pretty and beautiful. Look at me, here I am."

I sat there, content and happy the need to masturbate subsiding as I realised I liked presenting myself this way. I was still hard and would masturbate but I was enjoying the freedom and so sat there for a few minutes.

 

I heard the door open and my dad ask "what are you doing." At this stage the room was in half light and I was behind the curtains so he couldn't see me but I knew immediately that I was caught and had nowhere to go. Before I could answer he turned the bedroom light on and in a stern voice told me to get down from there.

 

The anxiety was building in me at a terrifying pace and I was frozen in place. I couldn't move. Here I was, his eldest son, the son he proudly touted to his mates as the best football player in my team, the son he thought he'd brought up in his own mould, dressed in my aunts clothes. In seconds he was by the window and was pulling back the curtains. I shall never forget how his expression changed from mild irritation to disgust and finally to anger.

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get those clothes off immediately. You can not wear these clothes. It's wrong. Get changed and back in to bed. I will not tell you mum about this and we shall never speak of this again.

 

I had seen the disgust and 10 year old me heard the following message

"Get those clothes off. You disgust me and you are wrong. You should be ashamed of yourself. I'm so disgusted that I never want to think about it again."

 

I have carried this all through my teenage and adult life and now am angry. Why the hell did he not sit down with me and hug me and tell me that it's ok to try new things to see what they are like. Why the hell did he go further with his horrible treatment by making me strip naked in front of him. I'd taken the blouse, the skirt and the bra off but was still very obviously hard inside the knickers. He made me take those off in front of him too and at that point I burst into tears.

 

I was made to put the clothes. Ask exactly as I'd found them, put my pjs on and was shepherded back to my room. "Now go to sleep" and the door was firmly closed behind me. I sobbed myself To sleep and we never have spoken of this incident since.

 

I hid my kink from everyone until 30 years later I was able to tell my wife about it and she now buys me sexy lingerie. I tell friends in the poly, queer and kink communities and they my accept me for who I am and embrace me. Why could a confused and vulnerable 10 year old not be embraced and loved. Anger and sadness fill my heart.

 

 

Copyright @Elle Halley 2016 All Rights Reserved