Dreams, Secrets, and Transformations: Beyond the Enchanted Looking Glass

The Meadow - ch1

The hot sun outside beamed down on the roof of the garage, making the air inside feel like an oven. Denzel, a rather dark skinned fourteen-year-old boy with a fuzzy, nappy mess of unkempt black hair in bad need of a trim, squinted through the sweat rolling into his piercing brown eyes as he rummaged through a stack of boxes full of old clothes in the corner.

He had just arrived here at his grandmother's house two days ago, to stay with her for the entire summer. This morning she had left him alone while she went to her church's simi-annual bake sale, and he figured this would be the perfect opportunity to find something interesting to try on. He had already found an interesting fuzzy, bright pink jacket that smelled faintly of his grandma's favorite perfume, but it was this box labeled "Janelle's Old Clothes" that really caught his eye.

Janelle was his mom.

Digging into the box, Denzel's heart skipped a beat as he felt something hard beneath his fingers. He had found a pair of shoes.

Pulling the shoes out from under all the clothes and into the light, Denzel saw he had uncovered a pair of shoes that made his heart race. They were high-heeled shoes with a few thin straps, similar to another pair he had seen his mom wear before.

With trembling hands, Denzel lifted a foot and held the shoes next to it. His breathing became rapid and shallow as more blood rushed to his nether regions. They looked like they just might fit, like they were made just for him. He couldn't believe how good they looked and couldn't wait to see them on his feet, but he forced himself to have patience, telling himself he wouldn't put them on until he found a dress first.

Denzel carefully pulled a few dresses out from the box and held them up to his body, one at a time. Most of them, he could tell, were either too big or too small for him, but he kept digging until he found some near the bottom, that he believed might be a perfect fit.

He settled on a light blue sundress with tiny pink flowers printed all over it and carried it over to the full length mirror in the corner of the garage. He carefully stepped out of his shorts and T-shirt and slipped the sundress over his head, feeling the soft fabric brush against his bare skin. He adjusted the waistband until it was just right and then took a step back to admire himself in the mirror.

The dress hung down to just above his knees, revealing the soft, smooth, hairless skin of his legs. Denzel was on the swim team at school so he had to keep all body hair shaved off during competition season. He then used the excuse that it itched when it started growing back, so he could keep it shaved year round.

Admiring himself in the dress, Denzel turned this way and that, twirling around until the hem of the dress flared out around him. He couldn't help but smile at how cute he looked. He wished he could wear a dress like this all the time. He imagined himself going to school in it, or going to the park with his friends, or even going to the beach. He felt a thrill run through him as he began to picture in his mind, all the different things he wished he could do while wearing this dress.

As he continued to admire himself in the mirror, he noticed something else. There was a box tucked away in the corner of the garage that he hadn't seen before. It was small and yellowed but he could tell it had once been white, with a delicate, lace and faux pearl-trimmed lid and a large lacy bow that was long since smashed flat and covered in dust. His curiosity piqued, he walked over to the box and gingerly lifted the lid.

Inside, he found a stack of neatly folded white underwear. There was a bra, a negligee, and even a pair of silky thong underwear with a little ruffle along the front. At the bottom of the box was a simple white wedding veil. He felt a flush of heat rise up into his face as he realized what these undergarments must have been for.

Denzel carefully took the bra out of the box and held it up to himself. He could tell it would probably fit, since his mom had been a young bride.

He slipped his arms out of the dress and let it hang around his waist while he fumbled with the bra. Eventually he got it on and adjusted the straps, marveling at how soft the fabric felt against his skin. He took a deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness wash over him. He had never worn anything like this before, and yet he couldn't help but feel drawn to it.

Denzel stepped back in front of the mirror, studying himself carefully. The bra gave his chest a subtle lift, making him look more feminine. He couldn't believe how good it felt. He took a deep breath, sucking in his stomach, and then reached for the lacy thong. He hesitated for a moment, feeling self-conscious, and a little guilty for putting on the very garments he knew his mom had most likely lost her virginity in on her wedding night, but eventually he managed to pull the thong up under the dress and adjust it into place.

The feel of the delicate fabric against his skin was intoxicating. He pulled the top of the dress back up, put his arms in, and affected a slow feminine walk, placing one bare foot across in front of the other, allowing his shoulders to drop and his hips to sway as he sauntered over to the full-length mirror that hung on the wall, approaching it with a sense of excitement and anticipation he had never felt before.

As he again stood in front of the mirror, admiring himself and feeling more confident and feminine than ever before, Denzel remembered the shoes. Turning from the mirror, he returned to where he had sat the high heels earlier. Strapping them around his feet, he practiced walking around the garage in them, swaying his hips and adjusting his posture until he felt graceful confident and feminine in them.

Next, he slipped the fuzzy pink jacket on over the dress, clasping it around his shoulders and admiring himself in the mirror. The smell of his grandma's perfume filled the air, and for a moment, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. As hot as it was in the garage, Denzel wouldn't have tried the jacket on, but it looked like something a haut couture high fashion model might wear on the cover of a magazine, so he just had to see what it would look like on him. He spun around, twirling the ends of the jacket's faux fur cuffs, feeling lightheaded and giddy.

Denzel strutted back over to the mirror in the heels, anxious to see how he looked in the full ensemble. When he laid eyes on his reflection, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe how girly he looked. He admired the way the shoes accentuated his legs, making them appear longer and more feminine. The heels elevated him slightly, giving him a new found sense of confidence and an allure.

He couldn't help but strike a pose, twirling around and admiring himself from every angle. In that moment, he felt more like a girl than he ever had imagined he could.

After a few mi utes, the heat became unbearable and Denzel slipped the jacket off, casually tossing it across the garage with a flick of his wrist, and turned back toward the mirror. He almost fell, but he took another step forward, feeling the smooth fabric of his mother's dress hugging his body. At that moment Denzel's ankle twisted and he lost his balance.

The world spun around him as he felt himself fall, helplessly hurtling in slow motion towards the full-length mirror. He was already wondering how he was going to explain the blood and broken glass to his grandmother, before he even made contact with the mirror.