Here is the story of my first time. It was over forty years ago, so I have used a bit of poetic licence. The basis of the story is true - I was dressed up by my sister
and her friends as the bride. To the girls, it was just a game they played one rainy day, to me the start of a life long journey.

It was one of those typical English summers days we all remember from our school holidays - it couldn’t make up its mind to be sunny, cloudy or wet.
So far it had been sunny at breakfast cloudy, then drizzle; now it was cloudy looking like rain. 

In the lounge of an average suburban semi-detached house was someone else who couldn’t make up his mind. Steven had been sitting in the front room of the house trying to read a book, but he was bored and restless. The echo of girlish laughter came clearly from upstairs where his sister and her friends, Carol, Eileen and Jill were playing. Although Steven was only seven and his sister and her friends eleven, he was already having his first crush on Jill - she was the apple of Steven’s eye tall, slim, pretty with the cutest little fringe and long blonde hair down to her waist. Steven was a shy boy at the best of times, but in the presence of Jill he was a blushing stammering mess; it didn’t help that bossy Carol was there as well - she loved teasing and embarrassing Steven.

The quandary in Steven’s mind was, did he go upstairs on the pretence to go to his room and try and catch a glimpse of Jill, or did he continue with the adventures of The Secret Seven (Enid Blyton). After much thought and pacing backwards and forwards towards the door, he made a decision that unbeknown to him would have a profound impact on his life. 


“Oh, what are we going to do?” sighed Carol.

“I thought we would be up the park by now,” Margaret smiled, “to see Jill’s boyfriend,” she added.

“I haven’t got a boyfriend,” protested Jill, rather half-heartedly and with a rather wistful look on her face.

”Jill’s got a boyfriend, Jill’s got a boyfriend,” they all chanted.

“Ok, Ok come on let’s play something while we are waiting,” blushed Jill.

“Don’t change the subject - anyway you just want to play weddings,” laughed Eileen. “Yes and you always want to be the bride,” giggled Carol.

“So what, I like playing weddings,” said Steven’s sister Margaret in her matter of fact way.

“Ssh,” hissed Carol.

“I think I hear something.” She put her finger to her lips and slid off the bed, making her way towards the door. As quick as lightning, she dived out
the door and grabbed Steven by the ear, dragging him into the room, where the girls burst out laughing. “Trying to listen in on our conversation were you?” chorused the girls.

“I think that calls for punishment, don’t you,” cried Carol with glee. 

The girls thought about this but Eileen, who liked Steven, was against this and made Carol let go of Steven's ear. Eileen suggested that they let Steven play with them, but the girls argued that they were going to play weddings and none of them wanted him to play. After all, the only part he could play would be the groom and no one was keen on marrying him, least of all his sister. 

At this point Carol smiled. “He could play the groom, or the priest, or the best man or the father of the bride or,” with a long pause, “the bride.” Steven who had been sitting there staring at Jill was suddenly brought back to the present.

“I can’t play the bride. I’m a boy,” he said rather indignantly and, in truth, rather to loudly. 

“I think it’s a great idea but what would he wear?" said Jill.

 “Yes that would be a problem suggested,” Eileen rather hopefully in Stevens defence.

“Don’t I have a say in this?” piped up Steven.

“No...” interrupted Margaret and then looking at Carol, “He could wear my Communion dress.”

“Do you still have the veil and everything?” asked Carol.

“It's in the box in the bottom of the wardrobe.”

“Ok, you two go make some space in Steven’s bedroom and we’ll get the blushing bride ready,” added Carol to Jill and Eileen taking control of the situation. “And you!” to Steven ”Don’t say a word!” 

Eileen and Jill went off to Steven’s room that he shared with his older brother Jack.  Steven heard furniture being moved around and hoped they wouldn’t move too much as Jack, who was 16, would blame him if he thought the girls had been in their room. 

Carol had delved into the wardrobe and found the box Margaret had mentioned which contained the veil, tiara, little white ankle socks with bows, a gold cross in a velvet box and white gloves. 

“Do you remember Sister Mary Saviour saying we were all to be Brides of God?” mused Margaret.

“Now girls, straight backs, heads up and small steps - we don’t want to disappoint the Bishop!”  They both laughed at Carol’s imitation of the girls' headmistress. 

Carol put the box on the bed and both she and Steven turned to see Margaret pull her Communion dress out of its bag. It was typical of its kind in the 60’s, a left over from the previous decade: a simple satin dress with lace overlay, tight bodice with peter pan collar and short puffed sleeves, the skirt flaring slightly designed to take an additional petticoat to give it real bounce. The net petticoat was taken down from its hanger. Steven stood there paralysed, like a mouse waiting for the snake to bite, his mind racing with a million thoughts at the same time, but his brain not able to process any. The only thought that came through his befuddled mind was what would it be like to wear that dress and those petticoats. It was this single thought that dominated and seemed to block out everything else in the room. 

“Right, come on get those clothes off,” teased Carol helping Steven pull his t-shirt off and take his shorts down. Quickly they put the socks on, arranging the pretty bows on each side, then the petticoat, helping Steven step into it. The petticoat had a tight fitting nylon yoke from the waistband to the first layer of net and this fitted snugly around Steven’s waist and over his cotton y-fronts. The dress was then dropped over his head and rustled as it spread out over the petticoat, the buttons were done up at the back of the bodice and the girls stepped back for a look. 

“Isn’t he a little sweetie...back straight, head up, small steps,” she mimicked again. Steven was finding the net petticoats prickly against his skin.

“Hmm...” said Margaret.  "Looks ok for her Communion, but not exactly right for a bride.  Stand still -  stop fidgeting.  Hmm...I know what’s wrong with you -  I had the same problem. Mother made me wear a half slip under the net petticoat which stopped most of the tickling accept on my knees,” she giggled. 

“Perhaps we should put him in tights - that would be more grown up,” said Carol

“Yes, let's,” agreed Margaret.

Steven said nothing, but just stood there, not knowing whether to pull the dress off, scream, or just run away. For some reason he didn’t understand, he felt almost imprisoned in the clothes and unable to do anything other than what he was told.

The girls took the clothes off, including the socks and got out a pair of Margaret’s best white tights. “Well, this is the 'something new'.”  Then she rummaged in her drawer to bring out her silky nylon half slip but, as she, did a pair of very frilly blue panties fell on the floor.

“Well that’s 'something blue',” laughed Carol.

Steven just stood there as the girls put the tights on him and smoothed them up his legs, telling him to pull them tight around his crotch; then the blue panties were pulled up, with Carol allowing the elastic to snap as she settled them around his waist.  Next was the very silky nylon half slip. As this last garment was pulled up around his waist Steven gave an involuntary gasp, as he had never experienced sensations like this. He couldn’t describe them -  happiness, bewilderment, feeling emotional, almost as if he wanted to cry. The girls carried on in silence as if the dressing of Steven had taken on a life of its own.

Steven stepped into the petticoat and Carol pulled it up around his waist, there were now four layers of silky material encompassing his not yet ripe manhood. The dress was dropped over his head and the various layers adjusted, the dress was buttoned up behind him and he felt a slight tightness at the waist and neck, the sensation of imprisonment but such glorious imprisonment returned.

“Come on then on with the shoes”, Margaret’s voice broke Stevens reverie, Carol strapping his feet into a pair of his sisters white sandals.

“Ok stand still” Carol had a brush ready and combed Stevens beat nick hairstyle forward and into a fringe, then attaching the veil to the tiara she fitted it into his hair then she dropped the front of the veil over his face. He was then given the gloves and he put these on himself. 

"Oh dear, no bouquet!” thought Carol out loud.

“What about the flowers in the hall?  Just put the stems into an old white sock to protect the dress,” suggested Margaret. Carol disappeared downstairs and came back with the flowers and, as suggested, wrapping the stems in an old white sock. 

“Ok, let's look at you - hold the flowers in front of you about waist high.” Carol pushed Steven’s arms into position. Margaret had gone into the other room and Steven heard her tell Eileen and Jill that the Bride was now ready. “'Fashionably' late," laughed Jill. 

Carol explained that she was the Father of the Bride and Steven had to take her arm and walk slowly into the other room. Margaret was the priest, Eileen the best man and Jill the groom; this made Steven blush a deep red behind his veil. The humiliation of it all - wearing a pretty dress and being paraded in front of the girl of his dreams - just didn’t seem right. Before Steven could do or say anything Carol was hooking his arm around hers and
he was clasping the bouquet tightly so as not to drop it.   

“Straight back, head up small steps and off we go,” laughed Carol. 

As they walked into the bedroom, Steven found that the tightness of the half-slip forced him to take very small steps. Steven could see the girls were wearing Jack's and his blazers and shirts and ties over their shorts (which just made Jill even cuter). They all hummed the wedding march as he came in, and Carol paused in front of Margaret and handed Steven over to Jill, who took hold of his hand. Margaret did a good job of a wedding service, paying particular attention to the “Love, Honour and Obey” part. Steven had relaxed and was just letting all the wonderful sensations wash over him when he heard his Sister say, “You may now kiss the bride.” What followed was as if it was being played out in slow motion as Jill lifted the veil and kissed Stephen confidently on the lips, as the girls all giggled again.

“Ok, who's next?” said Carol.

“That’s me,” said Eileen, rather to keenly, to make Steven comfortable. Over the next half an hour or so Steven was married to all the girls, including his sister, and by this stage he was really relaxed, carefully taking small steps and copying the way he had seen the girls walk. 

As the last marriage was taking place and Carol was kissing Steven, the sun came out.

“Great, we can go up the park!” shouted Jill, clapping her hands and doing a little dance. Then, as abruptly as it all began, it was all over and the girls were leaving the room, without so much as a backward glance.

“What about me?“ Steven heard himself say in a very timid voice.

“No, you can’t come.  You don’t want to get your dress dirty -  you just stay here and do the tidying up,” teased Carol.

“And make sure you put your dress and petticoats away properly,” said Jill, which was like a dagger to Steven’s already fragile heart.

“See you!” chorused Margaret and Eileen and, with that, Steven heard the front door close, and he was left alone in his pretty dress and petticoats. 

Steven wandered back into his sister’s bedroom and looked at himself in the mirror.  He took the veil and tiara off and put his sister's Alice band on. He felt that he really did look like a little girl - a very young version of his mother. He went into his parent’s bedroom - something he wouldn’t have dreamed of doing normally but he wanted to see himself in the full-length mirror on his mother's wardrobe. He spent a while in front of that mirror curtseying and pulling poses, as he had seen his mother and sister do when buying a new dress or getting ready for a night out. He wandered back into his sister's room and began reading the teen magazines the girls had left behind. He had looked at the magazines before, but now with a completely different eye, imagining what he would look like in the different outfits. 

“Steven, you better get your room straightened before Jack gets home, and when you’ve done that, I want you to lay the table for me”.  His mother's voice brought him back to reality, and he took one last look at his reflection in the mirror, promising that he would do this again just as soon as he could. 

Panic! Steven couldn’t reach behind to undo the hook and eyelet or the top button no matter how he tried - they just wouldn’t budge.  He thought he had only been trying to get out of the dress for a matter of minutes, but it must have been longer.

“So there you are,” said his mother, smiling as she entered the room.

“The girls made me do it, they were playing dress up and Carol said...” Steven started to blurt out the whole story.

“Now just come here let me give you a hand.” His mother unhooked, then unbuttoned the back of the dress.

“Can you get out of the rest yourself? I really must get back to the dinner.”

“Leave all the clothes on the bed - I will put them away later” 

Steven hurriedly undressed and laid everything out on the bed before putting on his own clothes and going to tidy up his room. He went down to the kitchen and his mum reminded him to get the new tablecloth from the cupboard under the stairs.  

Steven was very quiet at dinner that night, but nothing was mentioned in front of his father and Jack - in fact nothing was ever mentioned again.   

After dinner that Sunday the family sat down to watch an old western on the television; Steven loved westerns and often thought he would like to be a cowboy when he grew up. Watching the film that night was strangely different - instead of watching for the guns, the fist fights and horse riding, Steven took more notice of the ladies, the way they walked and talked, their hair, the saloon girls' outfits and, of course, the beautiful crinolines of
the ladies at the celebration ball.

Although he didn’t realise it at the time things had changed for Steven, just how much he would learn in years to come but, as they say, ‘That’s another story entirely.’


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