The room went silent, save for a few stifled bursts of laughter from younger cousins. Paul had gone so red he was almost sure the pressure might cause his head to lift off and fly up the chimney. His hands were drenched from the bracing shock of the moment. Was this for real? She couldn’t possibly have just said what she said, with all those eyes on him?

            “I suppose that’s the most straightforward way to put it!” his Aunt Kathleen tittered from nearby. Mumbles of agreement circled the room.

            “Oh, so that’s why he’s got all the funny cartoons of Alice saved on his computer that you showed me, Nettie!” one of the cousins said, enlightened. “That makes sense now.”

            “So gross…” another of the cousins spat. “I don’t get it.”

            “Maybe it’s the skirts and petticoats,” Aunt Debra offered helpfully. “Perhaps they light a fire in our little nephew.”

            “W-Wait, wait, time out. I…” Paul said about the chatter. He didn’t have a game plan, but he knew he had to protest before this went south any further. “T-That’s… I mean, come on, Mom. Did you hear what Nettie just said? What kind of joke-”

            “It’s true, though,” Nettie cut in innocently. She rose from chair and sauntered with hands behind her back, one foot in front of the other, toward the epicenter of the room. The girl stood beside her blue-bedecked sister and smarmed at their younger sibling. “Why the heck would I need to lie about something so weird and gross?”

            “Because you two like to embarrass me, and you know it!” Paul retorted.

            “Well, that is true,” Elise admitted.

            “Only in this case, you deserve it,” Nettie said. “On account of how you get turned on by dresses and petticoats from Alice in Wonderland.”

            “No!” he huffed. “That’s a lie.”

            “I’ve seen how many times you used to rewind that movie. Over and over again. Nothing but Alice and her big poofy dress,” she rambled. “You used to not even blink while you watched it.”

            “Shut up, Nettie!” he groaned.

            Deep inside, Paul knew he had precisely zero moral ground to stand on here. Of course they were one hundred percent correct. But he was ready to fight tooth and nail to prevent that information coming out now, in this room, surrounded by a crowd of women. How could he possibly be seen by any of them again, let alone look in a mirror, if that casual tidbit was hanging in the air like rot?

            “Now kids,” Patricia murmured soothingly. She waved her hand between the opposing factions of her offspring. “Let’s not bicker in front of the company. I don’t think we’re getting anywhere like this.”

            Paul breathed a sigh of relief. Good. His mother would shut this nonsense down and make his sisters apologize.

            “Because, really…” Patricia continued with a flourish. “…the only way to solve an issue such as this is tangible, physical proof. Not just speculation and rumors.”

            The boy’s blood turned right back to ice. His heart was in his throat. What was she saying?

            “That sounds very logical to me, sis,” Aunt Debra agreed. Her thick fingers gingerly played with the variety of studded and jeweled rings she wore on her opposite hand. All the while, though, her smirking countenance stayed trained to Paul on the center cushion of the couch.

            “If someone is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, it seems only natural we should keep up the same rules,” Aunt Kathleen said. She threaded her long, silver-blonde hair between the formed loop of her thumb and index finger as she, too, narrowed her attention to her increasingly anxious nephew. Her fingernails plucked caramel-colored nylons over the knee.

            “Thank you, Kathleen. That’s very true,” Patricia said, obviously concurring with her two sisters completely. She laid her palm against her son’s cheek, her cooler fingers caressing down to his neck.

            Paul could actually feel a pit forming like a black hole in his stomach. His own two siblings were grinning encouragingly at him now. Baiting him.

            “Yeah, Paul,” Nettie said. “If you want us to believe you so bad, why don’t you prove it?”

            “You could do that, couldn’t you, little brother?” Elise challenged. Her fingers knitted together. “Couldn’t you stand to look at someone… like me… all gussied up, and not get hard from it?”

            “I… what kind q-question is that? I…” Paul sputtered. “Mom!”

            “It does seem like a reasonable request, sweetie,” Patricia whispered into his ear. Her hand still cupped his warm cheek, sampling his temperature. “We have our perfect trigger right here. Now why don’t you go ahead and get those handsome pants of yours down?”

            “WHAT?” Paul almost fell off the couch, but by grace of his mother’s firm embrace, he stayed where he was.

            “It’s no matter to us,” Aunt Kathleen said helpfully. “And who can you trust to keep a secret better than family?”

            “Some of us changed your dirty diapers way back when. Believe us, we’ve seen it all down there,” Aunt Debra said, earning a few potent chuckles from the back. “Really, the only boy in the family? How could we have forgotten?”

            “Don’t be shy, hon,” Patricia slurred into her son’s ear again. “C’mon. If you’re so sure you’re right, go ahead and show us.”

            “Do it!” one of the cousins shrilled.

            “FINE!” Paul didn’t mean to shout his answer, but he was tense and rosy now with nervous despair. Mad as this all was, he wasn’t getting out of this sticky situation without some proof, or things would never be the same. He had to snuff this filthy truth out now before it could plague him for the rest of his life. Gulping, he fumbled with his belt and tugged his trousers down to his ankles.

            “We can’t even see it,” Nettie commented obviously. “I can’t see his wiener.”

            “Almost there,” Patricia encouraged. “Paul, your…”

            “All right, all right,” he groaned through gritted teeth. He moved with a purpose now, yanking his underwear over his thankfully dormant member and casting it on the floor. It wasn’t that he was exactly on board with this turn, but he’d come this far now; there was no way he wasn’t going to get some satisfaction at his family for putting him through such wretched embarrassment.

            A hush fell on the room. Paul heard some immature snorts and whispered gags from the cousins, but that aside, everyone was simply focused on him and his unfortunately exposed lower half. The boy blinked. He slumped his head back against the couch, painfully aware that he was currently half-naked before more than a dozen of his almost-entirely female kin. His mother’s hand was still flush to his cheek.

            At the very least, he thought in the hollow of this surreal moment, he was in absolutely no danger of an erection now.

            “Good boy,” Patricia congratulated. Her fingers thrummed on her son’s chin. “Now, Elise? Would you do the honors?”

            Honors? What more was there to do? Paul lifted his head to see his oldest sister, billowing blue dress elegantly clutched in either hand, was marching toward him. With frightening authority, she planted one mary-jane up on the couch by his leg, then stepped fully up onto the furniture, leaving her brother to face the opened, alabaster void of her petticoats.

            “W-What?” he managed dumbly. She smiled.

            As the full train of the outfit was hoisted up and over Paul’s head, he was able to truly appreciate the sheer mass of it for the first time. He disappeared into the snowy layers of fabric while they bristled about his cheeks and ears. Elise’s stockinged thighs fastened themselves around his head. And then it occurred to him that he was literally experiencing the physical form of Alice herself, “growing” right before his eyes. Right above him, in fact. The very instant he had that thought, he tried to force his focus elsewhere, but it was too late; the image was in his brain like a virus.

            “Huh,” he heard Nettie say. “Looks like something’s happening downstairs.”

            No. Impossible. With all these people around, there was no way he could manage to get it up, no matter the circumstances.

            The boy felt the familiar tingle in his crotch. Sure enough, his penis was growing.

            Paul went to move his arm in a bid to bat the wedding cake-like geometry of Elise’s dress away. However, he found his mother had a strong grip on his wrist now. He was kept subdued between the combined effort of his parent and a scissor-hold from his sister. It was also at this moment Paul found he had to inhale and was only doubly drawn into the lacy portal of his sister’s undercarriage. The smell. So sweet and satiny, suggestive of daffodils, yet with all the inherent warmth of human skin. His half-mast was quickly approaching full mast.

            “Well, my, oh, my,” he heard Aunt Debra remark.

            “Would you look at that…” Aunt Kathleen laughed.

            Red in the face, dry in the throat, Paul remained frozen. He tried diverting his arousal in every philosophical direction: dying animals, world hunger, pulpy gore. None of it was any match for the existential joy of being here, right now, inside the fluffy snowstorm of Elise’s petticoats. She curtsied, dipping her brother’s head ever higher in the swirling folds.

            The boy quivered, his erection now complete and aching for attention, especially after he was forced to cut his earlier session short. Unable to help it, he panted for release.

            With a start, then, Paul flinched as a firm yet articulately controlled shape landed squarely on his nethers. By the warmth and contraction of soft flesh, not to mention distinctive thready terrain of nylon, the boy realized someone was pressing her foot into his cock. Not content to merely squash down on his junk, the foot began stroking up and down along his shaft with surprisingly practiced motion. It was jacking him.

            Every single muscle, nerve, and tendon in Paul’s body screamed at him to act. Thrash, fight, jump away. Do anything to prevent what was coming. But he didn’t. Couldn’t.

            “So much for proof, hmm, Paul?” Aunt Kathleen remarked as she kneaded her nyloned sole on her nephew’s penis. “I can’t say I’m seeing a convincing case here. Can you, Debra?”

            “Not at all.”

            “What about you, Patricia?”

            “I’m afraid we’re getting answers to all of our questions right now, just as we suspected we might,” Patricia sighed, obviously let down. Her lips returned to her son’s ear. “Aren’t we, dear?”

            Abrasive as the nylon material was, it didn’t take more than a minute of the swooshing sole and scrunching toes to put Paul over the edge. He sucked in the stuffy air of his sister’s petticoats and convulsed as he ejaculated onto the silky sole of his aggressive aunt. A collective gasp enveloped the room.

            Elise gathered up her dress again. She stepped royally down from the couch. Paul was left exposed once again, still half-clothed but more naked than ever before.

            “Well,” Aunt Kathleen murmured with a broad smile. She wiped her damp foot along her nephew’s rumpled pants to dry off. “I suppose the prosecution rests, doesn’t it?”

            “That didn’t even take very long!” Nettie sneered.