DANNY AND ROSE
Kristy Leigh

Another time, another place.

Another world identical to our own...

Except for one crucial difference.

"You ready yet?"

Danny Richmond looked over towards the doorway, vaguely annoyed at the intrusion. At barely ten years old, he'd begun to resent his sister's constant policing of his behavior. Worse still, she had absolutely no respect for his privacy, particularly when he was getting dressed. He'd complained to his mother about it just last week, but she'd dismissed his protests with a laugh: Rosa had seen him naked since the day he was born, what was the big deal? Wasn't like he had anything to hide.

"You ready yet?" she repeated.

"No, I'm not," Danny replied with a touch of petulance, and turned back to the mirror. At least she hadn't caught him completely naked this time. He stood in the middle of the bedroom in his sheer white panties, meticulously stroking the twists out of his long, blonde hair. A pastel yellow sundress had been laid over the end of his bed, along with a pair of frilly white ankle socks. The clock on the dresser read 8.10.

Rosa stepped into the room, a tall, loping teenager with a denim jacket and the take-no-prisoners attitude peculiar to her generation.

"Yeah, well, Mom said to get a move on," she informed him, "so stop dawdling about and let me do that."

"Hey!" Danny protested as Rose took the brush from his hands. A moment later, she was herding him towards the bed, applying a good-natured slap to his bottom for good measure. Danny gave a yelp of surprise; it didn't really hurt, but he absolutely hated it when she treated him like an infant. She was always barging into his room and acting like she owned the place. Sisters were like that: thought they owned the whole damned world (which wasn't that far from the truth, he would later discover).

"OK, hold still," she instructed. Seating herself on the bed, she made him stand between her denim knees, facing the mirror so she could finish untangling his hair. Danny settled into position without a struggle. Rosie was much stronger than he was; he'd learned a long time ago that resistance was useless. That didn't stop him from voicing his objections, however.

"Why can't Mommy do my hair?" he moped disconsolately, "it hurts when you do it." He winced as the brush encountered a particularly obstinate twist.

"She's busy dishing up breakfast," Rosa replied, readjusting her grip on the brush, "told me to come upstairs and make sure you weren't late for school again."

"I wasn't late last time. I was getting ready."

"You were late because you wanted to try on every dress in the closet," she countered without missing a beat, "that's why I laid your clothes out while you were in the shower."

"Well, I don't want to wear that old thing," he complained, looking down at the short yellow dress, "I want to wear the one with the strawberries on the front."

"You wore that yesterday," Rosa reminded him, breathing in his sweet, subtle child-scent. His hair smelt of baby shampoo and freshly sliced apples.

"I don't care. It's my favourite and I want it."

Rosa chose to ignore him. He didn't really want to wear the strawberry-frock, he was simply testing the limits, the way he did most mornings. Mom said his contrary moods were perfectly natural for a child his age, so they had to be patient with him – firm, but patient all the same. Rosa thought she understood what she meant. The Little Ones were as fragile as pink carnations, everyone knew that.

Anyway, she quite enjoyed these forced grooming sessions.

Placing a hand on his smooth waist, she ran her fingertips along the trim of his panties, grazing his belly button in the process. Her touch was gentle, gliding over his pale skin with a silken whisper. Danny shifted slightly in her arms, though he didn't pull away from her feather-light caress. His complexion darkened as a warm flush spread through his tummy. Part of it was simple modesty: he'd become increasingly self-conscious about his body over the past few months (another reason why he resented her constant invasions of his personal zones).

But there was also a touch of anticipation in his shallow breathing and cantering heartbeat. Gooseflesh hummed across his shoulders as her fingers slid up his torso. Being stripped to his panties added to this sense of unwilling pleasure. Rosa was a girl, she had no right to see him undressed, and yet his head was spinning with excitement. That was part of the paradox: part of you loved being helpless and secretly hoped it would never stop.

"Okay," Rosa said, laying the brush aside and tying his hair back in two long ponytails. She turned the boy around and looked him up and down, flicking an errant curl out of his face. Danny had always been an unusually pretty boy, with his clipped button nose and tiny, sensuous mouth. His frost-blue eyes were large and solemn, the kind of eyes that could melt a woman's heart with a single glance.

"You ready to climb into that dress now?" she asked, knowing he'd probably refuse just out of principle.

"No," he replied, "I want to wear the pink one."

"Well, you can't," Rosa told him, picking up the sunfrock, "it's in the wash. Everything's in the wash; this is the only thing you've got left."

"Don't want to," he answered sulkily, "I don't like it." He looked down at his feet, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Why not?" she coaxed.

"It's too short. Looks like a baby-dress"

"You are a baby."

"No I'm not," Danny pouted, "I'm ten."

"You're nine. Anyway, it's either this, or walk to school in your underwear."

Danny's eyes flickered in momentarily surprise.

"What?" he said after a brief pause.

"Mom said if you don't wear the dress, you have to go to school in your socks and panties." Rosa explained offhand, although no such conversation had actually taken place. She regarded Danny with a quizzical expression, amused by his obvious discomfort. His cheeks had flushed the color of a ripe summer tomato as he considered her words. He studied his sister's face, trying to determine whether she was serious or not. Reading his expression with practiced ease, Rosa raised one eyebrow inquiringly.

"Well, what's it going to be?" she asked, concealing her amusement, "daylight's burning, kiddo."

Danny glanced at the frock in his sister's hands, deciding that she had to be joking. Turning up at school in his underwear would be embarrassing beyond words. His Mommy would never make him go through with it (although he didn't find the thought entirely unpleasant, for some reason). No, this was just another ploy to get him into the sunfrock, he was certain of it. Rosa was always teasing him like this. Well, he wasn't about to give in so easily. He was going to wear his strawberry dress come what may, even if it was in the laundry hamper.

"Okay," he answered with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders, "I'll go to school in my undies." He turned around and stepped toward the hallway, turning his fanny in tight little circles. Rosa watched him indulgently; despite his sometimes exasperating nature, he really was the sweetest little thing on the face of the planet. Smiling to herself in wry, adolescent amusement, she put the dress aside on the bed.

"Danny?" she called, keeping her voice carefully neutral. He looked back over his shoulder at her.

"You planning to go barefoot?" she asked, holding up his frilly cotton socks.

"No," he replied, and started back to the bed. Wild roses stood out on his cheeks, Rosa saw with considerable satisfaction. He was practically fainting with anxiety; she could see that at a glance. Well, serves him right for being so contrary. Hiding a grin, she picked him up beneath the arms and lifted him up on the bed. Leaning back on his palms, he placed his bare feet on Rosa's lap. She drew the socks carefully over his toes, eyes wandering over his sleek, creamy thighs. His legs were slender, supple and rather shapely for a child of eight. She finished adjusting his socks and patted him softly on the knee.

"Don't you think you ought to change out of those?" she said, indicating Danny's plain nylon underpants. Danny looked down at himself in genuine surprise.

"Why?"

"You'll want to wear something prettier than these," she said, tugging at the waistband, "they're going to be on show all day. A lot of people are going to be seeing your panties, Danita, so you've got to wear your prettiest underwear for them."

Danny's eyes widened as he processed the image.

His heart started galloping like a runaway race horse. Suddenly, he wasn't quite so sure this was one of Rosa's tricks. What if she was telling the truth? More than half the kids in his school were female. Most of the girls in his class had seen his undies from time to time (like any other boy, he spent half his life playing around on the jungle gym), but this was completely different. Danny began to regret his impulsive decision. Why had he ever argued with her, especially over something so pointless? For a second, he was tempted to simply capitulate; concede defeat and slip into his short yellow dress.

"You said all my clothes are in the wash," he said doubtfully.

"Not your undies," Rosa replied conversationally, "Mum always makes sure we have a fresh supply." Danny bit his lip in frustration; he wasn't dealing with a rank amateur. He looked over at his dressing table, knowing she was right: there would be a neatly folded pile of vests and pants in the top drawer: folded, stacked and doubtlessly sorted by color. She'd checkmated him again.

"Well ..." he started doubtfully, still wavering with indecision. Sensing his hesitation, Rosa seized the opportunity to settle the matter for him.

"C'mon" she said, reaching out and taking him by the hand, "let's go and find you something pretty to wear to school today." Rising to easily her feet, she helped Danny off the bed and led him over to the dresser. He followed along with his pulse leaping into overdrive. How could this be happening to him? He couldn't back out now, she mightn't even let him change his mind at this stage. What was he going to do? In a few minutes, he'd be walking down to the bus stop in nothing but his panties, curly blond hair streaming down to his waist. This was literally a boy's worse nightmare. He racked his brain for an escape route, some plausible excuse which would allow him to retain some vestige of dignity.

Nothing much came to mind.

Rosa halted before the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. As expected, it was practically bursting with freshly-washed lingerie; pants and vests and crop-tops and all manner of dainty underthings. Releasing Danny's hand, Rosa began to finger through the drawer, painstakingly checking through the various articles. She supposed she was being a little mean, teasing him so mercilessly, but she honestly couldn't help herself. He was so innocent, so vulnerable, so deliciously naive. And anyway, he deserved it; acting like a prima donna when he was supposed to be getting dressed.

"Okay," she announced, "these look nice."

She held up a pair of flimsy satin panties; sheer full briefs with a delicate white trim. They were a soft pink color and decorated with a faint floral pattern on the front and bottom. Danny felt his temperature rise: they were so thin he could see daylight shining through them. Moist, liquid heat swept through his tummy – Rosa was going to make him put them on, force him to wear them in to school. By the end of the day, every girl in his class would know exactly what he usually wore under his dress. Danny looked up at his sister, speechless with embarrassment.

Rosa returned his gaze with a benign, knowing smile. He was blushing from crown to heel, blushing to the very roots of his hair. She knew precisely what he was thinking, she could almost see the panic cascading through his nervous system. They'd reached the moment of truth, the point of no return.

"All right then," she said without further ado, "let's get you into these."

Danny stifled a gasp as she reached for his panties.

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