It was a pleasant Sunday morning and the house was bustling with activity.
I was home from boarding school for the Easter holidays. Mummy insisted on me wearing my Hunting Stewart uniform Kilt to church so I dutifully complied.
We walked for about half a mile to the church and I must have looked a bonny sight with my kilt swishing from side to side. I had this kilt a few years and was outgrowing the kilt and the hem fell about two inches above the top of my knees. I wore a tweed jacket white kilt socks and black brogues and a nice little brown sporran hung in front.What a pretty boy I was.
An easter egg hunt was organised so I joined the others as we scoured the church yard looking for chocolate eggs, adults stood around gossiping as we children feverishly sought out the chocolate eggs. The girls were very pretty in their short dresses and as they bent over to pick up eggs I sneaked a cheeky peek up their dresses at their lovely knickers. Most of them were wearing white knickers but one or two of the more well heeled girls had rather nice pink ones with lacy frills around the legs. I felt my boyhood stiffen as I sneaked a look at the tight frilly pink knickers stretched over Sarah Wimberys tight little bottom, how I would love to feel those super looking knickers, I pondered for a while what they would feel like to wear.
I myself was not wearing undergarments beneath my kilt respecting the strict military tradition of my school. A boy who wore underwear beneath the kilt could expect a dozen of the tawse from the Housemaster. I was proud to be bare underneath but I dont think Mummy was when she inadvertently found out. I had bent over to retrieve an egg that had been placed at the bottom of a dry stone dyke and my kilt pleats rode up at the back giving anyone within sight a full view of my bare bottom. I could feel the cool air and gentle breeze against my bare bottom and dangling fruit, It was then I heard the gasp.
"COME HERE BOY", my mummy bawled out, I straightened up and made my way over to Mummy. She was talking to fellow womens guild member Mrs Wimberly who glared at me in a very disapproving manner. "Why are you not wearing any underwear?"Mummy sternly shook me by the shoulders. I was starting to get worried and squirmed with embarrassment as I became the focus of attention.Girls and boys were now staring at me goggle eyed watching my rather public reprimand. "Mummy we arent allowed underwear at school so I just dressed as I would for school". Mummy shook her head and spun me round to head for home. Mrs Wimberley intervened and suggsted to Mummy that I could borrow a pair of knickers to wear for the service as it was about to start.
Mummy thanked Mrs Wimberley and we headed to her nearby cottage.
Mrs Wimberley asked Sarah to go and fetch a pair of her knickers. Sarah smiled and stared at me as she made her way upstairs. "FETCH A NICE FRILLY PAIR SARAH"Mrs Wimberley shouted upstairs.
I gulped, I was going to be made to wear Sarahs frilly knickers. I faked protest at Mummy, "Please Mummy I will keep my knees together, please dont make me wear girls knickers please please no I will be so ashamed".
Mummy pursed her lips and exclimed "TOO LATE YOU ARE A DISGRACE, A DISGUSTING BOY YOU WILL WEAR THE KNICKERS AND YOU WILL KEEP THEM ON UNTIL BEDTIME"
I croaked "Yes Mummy"
Sarah emerged from her bedroom and came downstairs clutching a pair of pink knickers bunted around the leg cuffs and seat with rows of pretty white lace. There was also pretty little pink ribbons adorning the front and sides of the legs, I felt my boyhood stiffen.
I pleaded to Mummy with my eyes but it was to no avail.
"PUT THEM ON LADDIE"Mummy boomed and I knew then my fate was sealed, "Do as your mother tells you boy"Mrs Wimberley added taking the knickers from Sarah she knelt on the ground stretching the knickers wide for me to step into.
Sarah let out a sharp giggle as I stepped into the knickers. Mrs Wimberley pulled them up tight over my bottom. "There now thats not so bad is it"she said soothinly. I thanked her and we made our way to church.
The service lasted an hour and I felt a mixture of embarrassment and elation at my new underwear. The lacy knickers felt marvellous against my skin and hugged my bottom beautifully. In my boyish excitement I widdled a little into the crotch.
My knickered bottom pressed against the cold hard pew and I could feel the contour of the frills against my buttocks. I felt a very special boy indeed.
I refrained from playing with the others after the service as I didnt want the knickers to be seen. I would sureely be teased mercilessly.
Mrs Wimberley invited us back to her cottage for afternoon tea which Mummy duly accepted. I smoothed the back of my kilt as I sat on the sofa opposite Sarah with my knees firmly together.
Mrs Wimberley commented to Mummy that my behaviour was impeccable and suggested that I should accept the frilly knickers as a gift and be made to wear them each time I was naughty as a punishment.
Mummy accepted the knickers and we walked home. I was a very happy boy with my frilly knickers brushing my thighs as I proudly strode.
Once home I was invited into the dining room. Mummy stepped outside to the greenhouse and reappeared in the dining room flexing a thick bamboo cane.
I was then informed in no uncertain terms my behaviour had caused embarrassment to the whole family and I needed taught a painful lesson.
I slowly bent over the back of a procured dining chair and Mummy folded the rear pleats of my kilt over my back. She tugged at the waistband of the frilly knickers and lowered them down to my knees. I must have been an awfully pathetic sight with my bare bottom sticking out
Mummy then proceeded to beat me hard across my bare quivering rump, by stroke number twelve the cane had shattered at the tip and my painful ordeal was at an end.
Sobbing and whimpering I gingerly pulled my new knickers up over my lacerated bottom and adjusted my kilt.I winced and left the dining room with tears in my eyes grasping my knickered buttocks to tear away the pain
I wore those knickers quite a lot and every Sunday to church and got a good few years out of them. Sarah Wimberly would give me a wink and I would smile and nod back to her. She never told my pink frilly little secret to the other girls and boys in the village.
Yes indeed these days I am often a true scotsman beneath my kilt, albeit in touch with my feminine side and still occasionally slip on a pair of pink frilly knickers under my kilt in memory of those wonderful far off days.