I do not need an alarm clock. Every morning my sisters wake me up. It’s their responsibility to make sure that I am up and dressed. My name is Freddy Gerber, and this a typical Saturday at my house.

“Get up, Freddy!” Michelle demanded. She’s a year older than me, and always the loudest of my sisters. All of my sisters are blonde like my mother, and they are very demanding just like her too!

“Why do you always try to sleep in?” Jessica pulled my covers away. She’s 9 months younger than me, but she acts like she is older. I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

My youngest sister is Heather. She looks sweet and innocent but she has a mischievous side. She sang “Get up sleepy head, get up sleepy head! Time to get dressed, time to get up, start the day!!” loudly in my ear. It was very annoying.

They are already fully dressed and ready for the day. I slept in a long white shirt that says “Strawberry Shortcake” on it with a picture of the red-headed icon on the front. It used to belong to Michelle but she outgrew it.

My sisters rounded me out of bed, and pulled the night gown over my head, leaving me standing there naked. I have just started sprouting pubic hair. I was fortunate I didn’t have an erection or the teasing would be endless.

“No wet dreams last night, Freddy?” Michelle seemed almost disappointed as she rifled through my dresser to choose something for me. My sisters have the responsibility of selecting my clothes. They’ve always chosen my clothes for me since as long as I can remember.

Since today is a weekend, they are being particularly cheeky about it though and taking their time. “Can I please have some clothes, Michelle?”

“Oh, there is the magic word,” Michelle tossed me a pair of frilly pink panties. They also say “Strawberry shortcakes” on the side. They are white linen panties with a little lace around the edge. My mother doesn’t believe in boy’s underwear. She says there is no need. Panties are far more comfortable and there is no point in sorting through underwear and panties. She buys panties in bulk and we all share.

“Try not to stretch these out,” she tossed them at me. I am not very coordinated so I dropped them. When I bent over to pick them up, Hannah playfully kicked me in the bottom. My sisters love me, and I love them, but they also enjoy teasing me.

“Can I have something else to wear this morning, please?” I said as I wiggled into the extra small pair of panties.

“Tuck your wee-wee back behind your legs when you put on panties, Freddy. No one wants to see you smuggling grapes,” my sister Jessica pulled the elastic waist band of my panties out and abruptly pinched my penis. She began to tuck it for me.

“I can do it,” I chided her, but she smacked my hand away.

“You will just play with it. No touching,” Jessica teased. My sister’s aren’t shy about touching my penis but they don’t play with it.

“Sorry, Jessica. May I have some shorts please?”

“Shorts? I think you’d look pretty in a nice skirt,” Jessica giggled. I have a collection of skirts that I wear some times around the house but never to school.

“Fine,” I said.

“Well, if you are going to be huffy about it, you can put on heels and come to breakfast like that,” Michelle laughed.

I do not argue with my sisters very often. I acquiesced. They chose some simple one inch heels. My mom expected me to learn to wear heels just like the girls. She said that if they have to do it then so do I.

I followed my sisters into the kitchen. My father was already awake.

“Hello Jasper, what’s for breakfast?” Michelle said. She doesn’t have to call him Dad. I do though. My father was wearing a champagne blonde wig, full makeup, a bra, corset, panties, stockings, and heels. That’s common attire for him around the house. He does most of the cooking but I sometimes get to help.

“Belgian Waffles with orange slices, a side of grapefruit juice and milk, fresh homemade yogurt and some vegan sausage,” Dad made it sound really yummy.

“Ugh, what about eggs and bacon?” Jessica complained.

“Sorry darling, your mother is on a diet, and she wanted me to make healthy food,” Dad apologized.

Jessica pinched his butt and called him a meanie.

“What can I have Dad?” I asked.

“Same as me,” Dad told me to get the Wheaties out of the cabinet and pour some milk on them. We don’t eat the same thing that the women of the house do. They have special diets for their skin, and beauty regimen.

My father often dresses as a woman, but he can’t pass for one, and he doesn’t try to do the voice of one either. She doesn’t’ expect him to pass for a woman. That isn’t the goal with feminization in our family. Men are expected to be gentle, considerate and passive. We’ll never be powerful like women – even if we dress as them. Mom just wants me and him to learn the patience it takes to apply make-up, how uncomfortable panty-hose feels, and to appreciate what women have to go through in order to look pretty.

I poured my cereal and stood at the counter eating next to my father. There are only four kitchen chairs, and my sisters took three. The fourth is saved for my mother when she gets up. My father and I usually eat standing up over the kitchen counter. I don’t mind and neither does he.

“Did Freddy do something to make you girls angry this morning?” Dad pointed out that I was in just panties. I don’t usually have to stay in my panties around the house but I do sometimes. It can be very embarrassing because the cold air and embarrassment makes me get erections very easily and makes my nipples hard. My chest is naturally hairless. My dad has to shave his. I assume when I am old enough to shave, I’ll shave mine too.

“His dorky face makes me angry,” Jessica teased.

“It looks like he has been sucking on peanut butter, and his lips are stuck together,” Michelle mimicked how I smile. I frowned.

“Oh stop pouting, Princess. We are just playing with you,” my youngest sister teased me. I put on a big smile for her benefit. My father smiled as well.

Many people might think it’s unfair that we don’t wear the pants in the family. I understand that in most families the men are the boss. Mom says that our house is exactly the same way only in reverse. “If it offends someone that men aren’t in charge, then they should understand what it feels like for women in those households, cooking, cleaning. At least, we appreciate you and your father,” is what she would say.

My mom usually gets up whenever she feels like it. This morning the smell of my father’s cooking brought her to the kitchen. My mom usually doesn’t wear any clothes around the house and this morning was no exception. This morning she was naked with a big, warm smile on her face. Her hair looked perfect and she seemed well rested.

“Good morning ladies,” she addressed my sisters, and they replied back “Good morning, mom”. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said to us and my father and I both wished her a polite good morning as well.

My mom has huge tits, and her nipples jut out majestically. They almost always seem to be hard. She loves to tweak them. She reached up and gave them a pinch and twisted them a little. She kissed my father on the cheek. “You look pretty this morning,” she whispered in his ear, but we could all hear.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Dad said. He frequently calls her his Queen, or Ma’am.

“What did you do wrong, Freddy?”

“I guess I have a dorky face, Ma’am?” I replied.

“You have a pretty face, Freddy. Your sisters are just jealous,” she assured me. She bent over and gave me a smooch. There was a brief moment where her nipples touched my chest, and it made me quiver. It was definitely an accident but even brief touches have made hard as a bone. I discreetly retucked my boner between my legs when my mom wasn’t watching.

She down at the table. My mom doesn’t cross her legs at home, but she won’t tolerate me or my father staring between her legs. She has a very big slit with an impossibly complex set of wrinkled lips like a delicate flower between her legs. My mother keeps her pubic hair neatly trimmed and well groomed.

I brought her the food my father prepared. “Thank you, Freddy,” my mom offered politely. Even though I don’ have a skirt on, my mom likes it when I curtsy after I am told thank you. I put one leg behind the other, bent at the knee and lifted an imaginary skirt as I dipped my head.

I do the same for my sisters, but not all of them say thank you. It’s a little embarrassing when we have company but I’ve always been taught to curtsy and sometimes I do it instinctively even at school.

“Which of you girls thought it would be funny to have Freddy wear only panties to breakfast?”

My sisters didn’t immediately volunteer. I know better than to tell on them.

“I guess we all did, mommy,” Heather admitted.

“You should be nicer to your brother,” she chided them.

“He doesn’t mind, do you Freddy?” Jessica asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Freddy? Is that how you address your sister at the table when she asks you a question?” Mom asked somberly.

“Sorry Mom,” I apologized. I turned to face my sister and put down my spoon. I swallowed my food before I spoke. “No Miss Jessica, I will wear whatever you three decide,” I said.

“That’s better. You may talk your playground rough-boy talk outside of the house, but at my table I expect you to speak respectfully to women. Now, would you boys like to put on a fashion show for us later?”

“Yes my Queen,” Dad replied dutifully. I said that I would as well. My father and I get to play dress up, walk out in the living room like models on the catwalk, and the girls rank us. It’s actually a lot of fun.

“Good, do a good job giving us Pedicures and Manicures this morning and I’ll consider it,” she said. Mom is the final arbiter of what we do around the house. I’ve been taught how to give an excellent pedicure and manicure.

My sisters got excited. This is one of their favorite things and my mother loves to indulge them. After breakfast, my father and I clear the table and cleaned the dishes. My mom told my father to bring her a pair of zebra bikini bottoms. He hustled into the bedroom and got them for her. They were the wrong ones.

“Not those, the T-bar,” she harumphed. Dad apologized and brought the appropriate pair for my mom to wear. “Very good, thank you Jasper,” mom said.

Dad curtsied just as I had and waited with his hands behind his back. The girls don’t like it when our hands are at our sides if we are too close to them. Mom slipped into the bottoms. “If you are going to sit at my feet, I don’t want you staring up at my cooter,” she smiled at my father.

“I wouldn’t,” Dad assured her.

“I know. You are a good boy, Jasper, but just to avoid the temptation. Fetch your kaboodle,” she instructed. My father keeps a pink box stocked with nail polish, clippers, nail files, and various beauty supplies. I followed the girls out onto our screened in patio.

My sisters took chairs by the pool. We have a privacy fence but it is possible for our neighbors to see into our backyard. My mother doesn’t care if they see her boobs. She loves to show them off.

My job is to give the manicures. I always begin by removing my mother and sister’s nail polish. My father always takes the feet. He has a particular fascination with feet. He kissed my mother’s feet and began removing her toe nail polish. He doesn’t kiss my sister’s feet, but he does them too.

They gossip and chat, while my father and I clip, file, buff, shine, and paint their nails. They will sometimes change their mind about the colors they want and I’ll have to start all over. If I make a mistake. My mother insists that I be punished. In this case, I spilled some nail polish on my sister Jessica.

“You will never learn to take your time, and be more careful unless there are consequences, Freddy!”

“Yes, Ma’am, I am sorry, and I am sorry Miss Jessica,” I apologized to my sister.

“Take your panties down to your ankles, Freddy,” she said. I removed my panties, and left my Weiner tucked between my leg.

“I am surprised you don’t have a little hard-on. Usually, when you are hurrying and not paying attention it is because of that little sausage link distracting you,” Mom scolded me and my sisters chuckled at how uncomfortable I looked.

“Untuck your wiener, and take one of your father’s lipsticks and paint it completely red,” Mom said. Mom likes to compare a penis to a lipstick being twisted and extended and then put away.

“Gross, it looks like a little doggy penis,” Michelle laughed. I blushed. Mom likes it when I am embarrassed after a mistake because it means that I won’t soon forget and make the same mistake twice.

Once I had it sufficiently coated in lipstick, my mother told me to resume giving them manicures. “Don’t you dare drizzle any of that pecker on the girls or me, or you will spend the entire fashion show with your panties stuffed in your mouth and standing in the corner,” Mom threatened.

I was careful to keep my penis away from my sisters and not drip any of my pre-cum on their delicate skin. That’s a huge no-no.

“Freddy should beat off. He’s hard now,” Jessica complained. I couldn’t help my erection. After painting my dick with lipstick and having it out in front of everyone I couldn’t prevent my boner from materializing.

“I do not want your father to finish the pedicures while we wait for your brothers. Just don’t look at it if it bothers you,” my mom said. I am not allowed to have a visible erection around the house, and I usually have to masturbate right away before it annoys my sisters. My mom says that boys are horny little creatures who can’t help themselves and she is right. I get hard a lot.

“You should get a cock cage for Freddy like the one daddy wears,” Jessica mused. I’d hate to have to wear one of those contraptions. Dad’s cock is controlled and locked away in a tiny metal cage that looks rather painful. I’d imagine if he started to get hard it would hurt.

“Those are a lot of trouble, and your father still has to spill his seed sometimes before he can concentrate. Just ignore his pecker and it will probably go down on its own,” Mom suggested.

The girls went back to talking, and my dad and I focused on giving them the best pedicures and manicures possible. At the end, my penis wasn’t still hard so my mother let me pull up my panties but not wipe off the lipstick.

“Okay ladies, do you want to go swimming?” she asked my sisters. Naturally, they did. It was a beautiful day.

“Boys, you can put on your fashion show out here. Get your music, and outfits and wow us,” she said.

My sisters aren’t exhibitionists like my mom. She doesn’t believe in bikini tops though. They all changed into their bottoms and came out topless to the backporch and began to swim around. My father and I applied make-up, put on our wigs and prepared our show. It’s a quick turn around on an imaginary cat-walk.

I strutted out purposely out to to music, look both ways, turn, pose, and then walk back and change quickly. Today, my father had us wear an ensemble of 1920’s flapper outfits, long sundresses, big “Clara Bow” Flapper hats, form fitting frocks with beads, long satin gloves, and cute little wigs.

The music was old timey Jazz. My father and I can dance the Charleston, which is a lot of fun. Dad loves those musical relics of the past like Somebody Stole My Gal and Kitten on the Keyz. Dad has an old phonograph that he plays the records on because he says the cracks and grooves in the record give it more authenticity. All I know is it’s fun to dance for my sisters and mother.

My father and I struck poses as Clara Bow, Coco Chanel, Joan Crawford, Colleen Moore, Barbara Stanwyck, Bebe Daniels, Norma Talmadge, Theda Bara, Norma Shearer, Louise Brooks, Anita Loos, and then his finale is Gilda Gray “the Shimmy Queen”. The girls talked, played, swam and occasionally cheered us on. Mom would usually direct us to stop and pose.

“Very well done, boys,” Mom said. “I think you both deserve a treat,” mom smiled. “You can bring us all a lemonade, and then apply suntan lotion on our backs.”

My father and I prepared a tray with lemonade and snacks. My mom didn’t ask for any but my father likes to do nice things for mom. You might think that she is cruel or selfish, but my father truly enjoys spoiling the girls and he says so all the time.

Once we served them drinks, we take suntan lotion and warm it in our hands. I started with Heather’s back. My father started with my mom. He is going to end up spending a lot of time on her because she likes a very deep tissue massage and I am too weak to press down hard enough for her.

“Don’t get all weird about it, Freddy,” my sister told me to just do her back. She has a soft and supple back with very little musculature. I love rubbing the white cream all over her back, and I do so very softly.

“Yes, Miss Heather. Do you want me to do your legs?” I asked. I have to ask and not presume that she wants her legs touched.

“Yes, but don’t play with my butt. Just do the legs”

“Take your bottoms off and let Freddy do the butt. You don’t want an uneven tan, Heather,” Mom insisted.

“Yes Ma’am,” Heather sighed. I know she doesn’t appreciate it but if mom tells her to do something she does it. She lifted her body up and slipped her wet bottoms down and off her ankles, and let them slosh. Heather doesn’t have any pubic hair yet, and she has a VERY cute pink asshole.

I am careful not to spend too much staring at her slit and her asshole. If I do, I’ll get a boner or worse she’ll get mad and I’ll end up getting punished. My sister is very sensitive to how much time I spend putting lotion on her butt so I just greased up her butt cheeks quickly.

“Do the whole thing, Freddy. Jeez, you don’t have to go THAT fast,” she insisted. I sometimes think that Heather just likes to make me go slow because she knows I am probably going to get an erection and get in trouble.

“Sorry Miss Heather, I didn’t think you wanted me to do more than your outer butt cheeks” I apologized.

“Do the whole thing Freddy, inner thighs, all around every part of her. If you miss a spot, then she’ll blame you.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I swallowed. I greased up my sister’s inner thighs, just below her pussy. It looked so wet and inviting like a pink Hibiscus blossom about to open. I tried not to stare or even sniff the scent of her pussy. I have a thing for the smell of a girl’s pussy. I tried not to admire her body too hard. I rubbed lotion in my sister’s ass crack and around her anus, but not her pussy. Heather didn’t say anything.