Newly Not Cis

Don't Put Your Bra With the Washing

As always thanks to Trismegitus Shandy. Links to their work in the comments.
Announcement I guess. I started uploading my work to Scribblehub. I update there more frequently but it is all old chapters that have been re-edited and re-written. Those versions are a lot more detailed and are better, they have all been written with more concrete ideas in mind. Also, they have better titles.

His usual routine had become: wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast and leave as fast as he could, so he wouldn't be seen by his mother. He threw himself out of bed and began to dig through his clothes for what he needed. He had put everything he couldn't wear anymore deep within his cupboards. He didn't need the reminder that he couldn't wear half his wardrobe anymore.

Everything he did wear was laid out on the floor where he had thrown it after getting home from school. He dug through the pile of jeans and hoodies on the floor to try and find the most important and uncomfortable thing he had ever worn. He was starting to get used to wearing the bra. He didn't like it, of course; he didn't see how anyone could like wearing those things, but he had made it a part of his routine to put it on. Even the pain it had caused him yesterday wouldn't stop him from trying to hide his new breasts. He had to have put it somewhere. He searched his floors, his drawers and everywhere he might have stuffed it to keep it hidden, but he still couldn't find it. He remembered wearing it yesterday; it was hard to forget the damn thing after it had caused him so much pain and humiliation, but he didn't remember where he had put it afterwards.

"James, we need to talk!" his mum shouted from across the house. Her voice seemed shaky. It wasn't the usual calm tone his mum usually took.

He couldn't leave without his bra. How was he meant to keep them under control? The first night he'd had the damn things, they'd only barely poked out from under his clothes. How was he meant to hide them now that they might have grown?

"Now!" she said louder.

"I'm just looking for something, Mum, I'll be out in a second!" he replied. He kept digging. It had to be in the pile. It had to be somewhere.

"Now!" she yelled. It sounded like she was panicked.

He needed to put on whatever might be able to hide his body. Any of the baggy old clothes that were laid out on the floor would do. He had looked up some methods of minimizing his chest without a bra and decided now was likely the best time to put them to the test. He tried to put on an extra shirt under his baggy hoodie. It didn't eliminate the issues, but it did minimize them a little bit. He hoped it would be enough to keep her from noticing. His mum wouldn't be looking at his chest. What reason would she have for doing so? He tried to reassure himself it would be fine.

It was not. Upon coming out to the lounge room he had a heart attack. There his mother was, holding the bra he had been looking for.

"James, can you please explain this?" She looked at him with disgust, concern and fear. She held the bra like it was a contaminated object she didn't know what to do with. He could tell her eyes were scanning his body. She had almost definitely noticed the two lumps on his chest. "What is it for? And why are you wearing one so early in the morning?"0

He was done for. The only thing going through James' head was different ways he could escape, none of which were possible.

"It's not what you think," was all he was able to get out. There was no getting out of this. He could guess where she was going. He'd heard her talk about LGBT people. He didn't want to know what his mum thought of him.

"Well, I think it looks like you have been wearing a bra." The way she had said 'you' was so accusatory it made him want to shrink. "I knew I should have gotten you away from that Kieran kid, or something like this might happen." She sounded so disappointed in him. Like he had spit in her face by being like this.