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My Uncle Wally's Boy Wife

One I did not know what I could expect, as the Greyhound pulled into the bus station. I did not know a whole lot in fact, as I was a rebellious know it all, fifteen year old brat. My parents were pretty good as far as parents went. I had not locked a roof over my head, or enough food on the table, but I had always resented the fact that my parents were not rich enough to give me everything that I wanted. I knew in the back of my mind that this was a pretty immature attitude, but what the hell, it was the way I felt. I also did not hesitate to let my parents know how I felt, after all, it was their fault, right? I did not ask to be born into such a poor home.

If they had really wanted kids, they should have waited till they had a lot more money for them, before they had any kids. At fifteen, I had reached my last straw, though I was too thick headed to know it. Last week, the school I had been attending finally gave up on me. I was not a really bad kid, it was just that I was always getting caught at some stupid prank or another. They had expelled me, and told my parents that I was not welcome back. That was it.

My mom cried all night. My dad threatened to beat the shit out of me. I decided that I did not have to put up with it, so I just left the house. I was gone for two days. When I got hungry enough, I went home. I went home to a very solemn home indeed.

Mom and dad just looked sadly at me. They told me that they had come to the conclusion, that because of the way that I treated them, that I must really hate them. I told them that it was stupid to say that, but they just sadly looked at me, and told me that this is what they believed. They apologised for being the kind of parents that had produced a kid like me. They told me that in a last ditch effort to try and make something good of my life, they had asked my mom's brother in California if he would be willing to take me in. Uncle Wally had said yes, on the proviso that they would not criticise him for anything that he may do to try and redeem me.

It was up to me. If I did not want to go, I could leave the house right then, and it would be over. I would be welcomed back, if and when I could show that I was endeavouring to make something positive with my life. The idea of being able to live in California was intoxicating. I did not need to think about it. I knew already that if I was kicked out of the house, that I could not make it on my own.

I had nearly starved in the last two days. I figured that no matter what this uncle that I had never met might want to try, it would be easier to live on the streets in California than it was to try it where I was. I agreed to go. The next morning, my mom packed my bags for me, gave me $40.00 for spending money on the way, and she said good bye to me, wishing me the very best. She did not try to make me promise anything stupid, like to obey my uncle or something like that. I figured I was finally getting out of prison, a prison not of my own making.

The trip took two days and two nights. When we finally pulled into the bus station, I was so exhausted from trying to sleep on the bus, that I had difficulty in keeping my eyes open. My first impression of my uncle was that he was stocky, maybe around 5'8" or 5'9" tall. He looked like he could take care of himself. He was in his late forties. frame. frame.

I figured that until I could figure the angles, that I had best try to get along with him, and his rules. I did not even notice that he did not pick up my luggage, as he greeted me, and led me out to his convertible. It was not a muscle car, but it was a nice looking blue convertible, with white plush seats. It looked kind of new, but maybe he just took good care of it. On the way home, he told me that my mom was really worried about me. He told me that they had a number of telephonic conversations, and that between my mom and dad, and him, that they had concluded that what I needed in my life was a paradyne shift.

The unfamiliar term perked me up, as far as it could, considering how tired I was. I asked him what he meant. He smiled at me. "Well, you see that big store over there? Well, suppose that you was born in that building. Suppose that as you grew up, that you gradually explored that whole store, learning every department that is in it. That store is your whole life to that point in time.

Everything you know is based on your experience in that store. Everything you understand is based on the things that you have learned in that store. Then one day, you accidentally find the front door. Suddenly, as you go through that door, you realise that your entire understanding of the world, which was all focused around the inside of that store, has to be re-evaluated, because you have discovered a world that is beyond anything that you had ever encountered before. You will have to relearn everything. You would have to learn to appreciate and understand things now from an entirely new perspective.

Does that make any sense to you?" "Yeah... I guess? What does that have to do with me.?" "Well, the paradyne that you have lived in up till today is what has moulded and contributed to your character and personality. We all know that it is not the best of results. That is sort of like growing up in that store that we were talking about. What you need is a paradyne shift. In other words, you need to go through a door, and enter a different world, in order to grow up and get on with your life.

There is far more to life that you think that there is." "I think I understand?" "Good. As of today, consider yourself as standing out in the parking lot. You now have a new life to live, one that will be completely different than anything that you have been used to before. Okay?" "Sure, I am game for anything, I guess." "Good. Here we are. This is my house." He pulled into a three car wide driveway.

There was no garage. The house looked kind of like a stucco bungalow, the kind that you might expect to see in a western movie or something. It did have a very large picture window that I liked, and I could see lots of house plants on the inside. It still did not dawn on me, that when we left the car, my four bags of luggage were not there. I was excited. This was not the house of a wealthy man, but it was a really nice little house.

I would like living here, I was pretty sure. For the first time, I was glad that my uncle was not willing to completely give up on me, the way that every one else in my life had. He led me into the large living room. There was a large mantle and fire place along the far wall. It looked far bigger on the inside, than it had looked from the out side. I smiled.

This was more my style. I was drained, and was only half conscious of him taking my hand, as though I was a little girl, and leading me into the kitchen. I sat on a bar stool at the island counter, and he poured me an orange juice. It was the freshest orange juice that I had ever tasted. Then uncle Wally took my hand and led me into my new room. The fact that the room was obviously that of a teen aged girl registered on my mind, but I was too tired to ask if he had another room that I could use.

I was amazed that I seemed to have suddenly lost all of my strength. I sagged onto the bed. He smiled down at me, and he started to take all of my clothes off. He spent a bit of time looking down at me. He smiled, and he told me that I was going to make a very pretty young lady. Then he sat me up, and pulled the top half of a very soft pink night gown down over my head.

I watched helplessly as he then raised up each one of my legs, and started to pull a pair of pink panties up my legs. I was astounded at how wonderfully soft they were. I was also astounded to find that they made me feel like a girl. Worse, as my uncle pulled out the pink satin sheets, and worked my lifeless body in under them, I started to get a raging hard on. I was so ashamed, especially when he noted it, and reached down to lightly caress me through the silk panties. He was making me feel like a sissy...