Part Six

Chris didn’t want to encourage Amy’s annoying enthusiasm with a response. If she was fishing for him to ask what she had in mind, it wasn’t going to happen. She could just say it without including him in the suspense.

Huffing a bit, Amy continued, “You’re going to shave your legs, Chrissy.”

The outlandish suggestion was enough for him to ignore the immediate use of the feminine name now that he had technically agreed to it. Under duress, but still. He had affirmed the gross extension of his name out loud. This latest idea, however, was way too much. “Fuck, no,” he replied, “I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?” she pouted, “Ugh, you’re never any fun! It’s literally winter, Chrissy. It’s not like anyone’s going to see.”

Right, except he was literally wearing shorts at the moment. While Chris did wear jeans more often than not in the colder season, places like his cousin’s house usually had enough heat going that dressing casually was preferable. “I said ‘no,’ Amy,” he responded. Trying to argue with her would just lead to her using twisted logic to dismiss his points. Chris had dealt with her enough over the years to know at least some of the traps to expect. Not that it necessarily prepared him for them, considering his current underwear situation and new nickname. “Think of something else.”

“You really won’t shave? It’s so easy! Besides, you’re a boy. That means it’ll grow back in less than a week.” Amy let out an exaggerated sigh. She strutted past him and flopped down backwards onto the nearby bed. “Whatever. Hmm, let’s think about what else you can do to keep me from telling anyone about your secret.”

Since Chris had never shaved anything but his face, he didn’t know what to make of Amy’s little white lie. He still didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of actually doing it, especially considering how much she had already coerced him into, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about looking like that for very long if he did. Of course, he didn’t know the truth of how long body hair actually took to grow back. Still, the explanation amidst her whining wasn’t enough to make him cave. He’d rather wait to hear the alternative first.

“Oh, I know!” she exclaimed, “You can wear one of my bras. We’re about the same size, and I bet I have some padding around somewhere for you to use.”

Definitely not. That idea was humiliating for a completely different reason. He might have been inclined to put something like that on if it could be as invisible as the panties were underneath his clothes, but stuffing the borrowed bra? No way. “Amy, come on. I’m not going to-”

“You’re not going to do anything fun!” she groaned. Sitting back up on the bed, Amy gave him a stern look. “Choose, Chrissy. Pretty bra, or pretty legs?”

Feeling a little more pressured from the sudden attitude pivot, Chris failed to consider the concept that he didn’t have to choose one or the other. However, Amy had set things up in a way where it felt like an either/or situation for him. Of the two options, there was a pretty clear winner thanks to how his cousin had presented each of them. “I’ll shave,” he reluctantly muttered. Suffering through jeans and sweatpants for a few days sounded better than letting Amy and her friends see him with curves on his chest. After all, the whole point of this was to hide the fact that he was wearing panties; putting on a bra would almost do the opposite.

“Good girl,” she giggled, “I knew you’d come around, Chrissy! Here, you can use my bathroom.” She quickly planted her feet on the ground and stood back up. Walking right back over, Amy took his arm and began tugging towards the upstairs hallway. “Trust me, mine’s better! The guest bath is so small.”

The ‘Chrissy’ thing was bad enough, but ‘good girl’ was almost worse. Not only was it patronizing and clearly a jab meant to go with the pink underwear he was stuck in, but Amy also said the phrase offhandedly and moved right past it. If Chris complained, she’d probably roll her eyes and say she was kidding, or teasing; something like that. So he sucked it up and let it go, the same way he let her have his arm instead of making a big deal about it and giving her any more ammo.

Amy didn’t hold on for very long. Once they were in the bathroom a couple doors down, she made short work of detaching herself and opening one of the lower drawers. She procured a fresh pink razor and set it on the counter, and was even kind enough to start running the water. “The whole leg, Chrissy!” she said, “And don’t take too long, okay? More than ten minutes, and we’re putting you in a bra anyway.” With a wink, she slipped out of the private bathroom and closed the door behind her.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that Chris realized how long it had been since he was alone. Amy had basically attached herself to him at the hip ever since he opened her present to him, and apparently only the privacy of a bathroom could separate him from his obnoxious, devious cousin.

Sighing to himself as he waited for the water to heat up, Chris cringed as he stripped. Taking off his shorts again revealed the image of himself wearing the girly underwear in the mirror. In a flash, he whisked off the lace undergarment, relieved to be temporarily liberated from both Amy and panties. But that relief didn’t last long, considering the task before him.

Taking the razor and the shaving cream, he pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shower. Jesus, where to start? The whole thing was absurd, but he needed to get to it. Less because of Amy’s parting words, and more because every second made the impending task more daunting. He hesitantly lathered up the left leg and began the arduous process of removing every inch of hair. He had to rinse the razor after almost every swipe due to how much hair was removed each time. It’s not that Chris was particularly hairy compared to the average high school boy, but it still took forever due to taking things from ‘never shaved’ to ‘fully shaved.’

Unfortunately, Chris figured out the weakness of Amy’s threat way too late. Despite the attempted kiss with Sadie, and the fact that he was stuck in panties all weekend, it was still his cousin and her friends. He saw them twice a year; three times at most. They weren’t even friends on social media. The much needed solitude and the hot steam cleared Chris’s head, and he realized that Amy could tell Anna and Sadie anything she wanted. It didn’t matter. While it would be embarrassing for them to learn about the feminine underwear Amy had tricked him into, he’d only have to deal with that for so long. They’d be out of sight and out of mind the moment he went back home.

Of course, Chris had already shaved one full leg before coming to the conclusion that letting Amy waste her blackmail was the better play. “Shit,” he muttered to himself.

Now he was committed. Half the job looked more ridiculous than seeing it through, so Chris got to work on the second leg.

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