Twinsies: Going Cheerleading - Part 2 - The Stand In
It was almost noon by the time we arrived at the gym that her cheerleading group had rented to practice in for the two days until competition. Before we got out of the car, Ms. Weaver changed us again, helping Megan into a pull-up, and Kirsten into a pair of pink panties which matched her outfit.
The only reason I discovered the color of her panties was because of the events of my own changing. Ms. Weaver laid me down, undid my diaper, cleaned me off, and then handed me my underwear. That was all pretty much normal; Kirsten, however, had other plans.
“No mom!” Kirsten called from behind her, “He’s gotta wear these.”
Kirsten handed her mother something and, a moment later, I was offered a choice between powder-blue panties with a tiny butterfly on the front, or my standard tighty-whities.
“It’s girl’s underwear though.” I whined at my girlfriend.
“You gotta match!” Kirsten called back from outside the car. I relented and, reluctantly, accepted the powder blue panties, pulling them up my legs. Outside the car, while Ms. Weaver attended to changing Megan, Kirsten looked at me triumphantly.
“See, now we’re still twinsies!” She said, raising her skirt to show an identical pair of panties, except for the fact that her’s were pink. I smiled at her and at getting to see her panties. She looked towards her mom the whole, brief, two or three seconds that she had her skirt up. She would’ve definitely got in trouble if her mom caught her showing me. Everyone cleaned up, we headed into the gym on the outskirts of Las Vegas. There were already a number of cars parked and I got the impression we were one of the last groups to arrive.
The competition was on Sunday but, because it was summer, the group was meeting on Friday and Saturday for rehearsals. I didn’t want to get in the way of Kirsten’s cheerleading stuff. I knew I was here to play with her in the mornings and evenings only. Noon until 3PM was cheerleading time, Ms. Weaver had explained. So Megan and I sat, amusing ourselves with a deck of cards, though I kept track of whether Kirsten was performing. She’d ask me to watch her, and I was going to make sure to do so. I also thought I could be helpful by keeping Megan occupied.
As the practice was about to begin, however, I sensed a certain amount of discord. The adults all looked concerned as they talked nearby and soon the girls were gathering around them too. I caught the conversation because Megan and my impromptu card game happened pretty close to where they were talking.
“Veronica broke her arm; her mom tells me she’s had it put in a cast and she’ll be okay.” the coach explained sadly to Ms. Weaver and the other moms. “It won’t look right missing a girl, but we can still perform.”
“But,” one of the girls said, realizing what had happened, almost in tears, “then we can’t do the second pyramid. Stacie and me can’t lift up Kirsten on our own…”
The girls looked sad as the stood around. I knew Kirsten had been practicing for this for a long time. What a bummer to have one kid in a small cheerleading group break their arm right before the big competition.
“We’ll have to change the whole routine,” The coach said.
“That’ll…but they only practiced these ones.” A parent said angrily.
“If only we had a stand-in.” The coach said. “But you all said every child should get to be in the competition, so I didn’t prep one. I like the idea behind putting in every kid, but then this happens sometimes…”
“There’s no one that could stand in?” Another parent lamented.
Suddenly, the girls eyes all turned and focused on me. I gulped. For the first moment, I wondered how they could possibly be looking at me. A boy couldn’t be a cheerleader, right? But, of course, I was wearing makeup and studs, and sitting in a powder-blue skirt. They thought I was a girl; I certainly hadn’t given any other indication. The fact that I had actually fooled them all thrilled me but I was also super scared now that I was actually noticed.
“She could do it, right?” One girl said, asking Kirsten. “She’s your friend, right; she’s our age?”
“But…” Kirsten replied, as shocked as I was that her dressing me up really worked. “She’s never done cheering before…”
“Yeah,” another cheerleader added, “but, even if she sucks, it’s better than only one pyramid. Plus, we’ve got two days to practice and you could show her other stuff afterwards…”
I felt the weight of fifteen eyes on me as I looked desperately towards Kirsten. No help was forthcoming there. I looked up at Ms. Weaver, she was flashing me an apologetic smile.
“I could… try?” I said, my voice creaking with worry.
“Do we have a uniform for her?” The couch asked worriedly.
“I brought a spare! We can try it!” A girl said, running for her bag. A few moments later I was pushed into the changing room with Kirsten and a cheering uniform in my hand.
Kirsten helped me strip off the skirt and t-shirt, down to pastel blue panties Kirsten had insisted on. I blushed at being in a room in only girl’s panties, but Kirsten was all business at this point. The cheer uniform was a mostly black piece, with silver glitter all over it and blue lettering on the front. The skirt flared out tightly, basically leaving panties on display whenever anyone moved too much.
For better or for worse, the uniform fit me like a glove. I moved in front of the changing room mirror, worriedly, briefly that I would be exposed. However, even with my panties on display, it wasn’t obvious I was a boy. After all, while I may be decently hung now, such was not the case for nine-year-old me. Add to that the fact that I was a late bloomer when I finally hit puberty in high school and it made sense that no one noticed.
As I took one last glance in the mirror, it struck me again how cool it was that I could look so completely different with so little effort. I was much more interested in the secret, subterfuge aspect than I was about the fact that it took the form of me looking like a girl. Kirsten and I reveled in the fact that the adults couldn’t even tell.
The skirt and the top on, Kirsten checked me over once more, then pushed me back out in the room. The girls gave a happy cheer as they saw the fit and, immediately, the coach called us all into order.
“Okay girls, you’re going to have to help out…” The coach started, pausing as she realized she didn’t know my name.
“Stephanie!” Ms. Weaver, gratefully, called out from the sidelines. I suddenly realized how bad this could have gone had she not saved me there. I looked over at Kirsten, her eyes were wide and I knew, from that expression, she’d been about to say my real name.
“Stephanie, right.” The coach added. “She had no idea what to do. I want to show her the routine twice, Kirsten, can you do Veronica’s bit?”
“Okay then. Stephanie, watch Kirsten, do the best you can and try to memorize exactly what she does.”
Two grueling hours later, my legs were already a little wobbly. While the other girls had took a break, the coach spent some extra time working with me. I could lift Kirsten up into her pyramid now, and the coach said that was the most important part, but I had to admit I ended up in the wrong spot a number of times.
I started feeling really nervous. I was worried I was going to ruin the competition for them. Even when I got the placement right, I could tell I didn’t have the poise of the other girls, the way they strutted around between moves. Their crisp arm and leg movements made it look like I was just flailing around in comparison. I kept trying to copy it but I felt like I was bringing their whole group down.
I felt really anxious as the girls returned from break. We all got in line again. I tried to remember the coaches instructions. I didn’t bump into anyone for the first routine but that barely kept my anxiety in check. We got Kirsten and the other girl up in their pyramids and safely down. As the second routine started, which I hadn’t learned as well yet, I immediately stepped off in the wrong direction and bumped full on into another cheerleader, turning left when I should have turned right. She fell on her butt, I felt my bladder release in surprise.
Oh god, my bladder. I hadn’t used the restroom since we’d gotten here. I’d gotten so nervous I hadn’t even thought about it. Suddenly, there was a heavy pattering on the floor, and I looked down to see a puddle forming beneath me. I felt the hot pee rushing into my panties, and down my thighs into my socks and the floor below. I immediately cried out, in anguish, and ran for the bathroom door, running inside and locking in behind me. My legs felt like lead, not wanting to move while I was still peeing, but I forced them too. Luckily, it also shut off my bladder.
I heard the murmuring behind me as I slammed the door. I started crying the moment the door shut behind me. I sat on the toilet, releasing the rest of my pee there, angry that I couldn’t have just remembered to use it in the first place. I was such a stupid baby, I thought, as I wiped at my eyes as I finished peeing. I was going to ruin their competition and I’d peed myself in front of everyone. Very quickly, there was a rap on the door.
“Stephen…ie?” Kirsten asked. “Can I come in?”
I got up, opened the door and Kirsten quickly let herself in, closing it behind her.
“You okay?” She asked as tears slipped hotly down my cheeks. I shook my head. “It’s okay. They know it was just an accident.”
She offered me a pull-up, probably from her mom’s bag. I pulled the soaked panties off from under the cheering outfit, tossing them in the sink, and pulled the pull-up on quickly. At least the pee didn’t seem to have gotten on the cheering uniform; I could be grateful for that. My legs still felt gross. Kirsten had gotten a wet towel though, and handed it to me. Gratefully I wiped down my legs, cleaning the pee away.
“I’m going to ruin your competition.” I said, sadly.
“No, no!” Kirsten said emphatically. “It’s way better than being down a person. We know you can’t be as good; we’ve practiced all year.”
I nodded as, gently, Kirsten took my hand and guided me back out to the room. The puddle had already been cleaned up (I later found out by Ms. Weaver), and the girls were all looking at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said ashamed. “I just got real nervous. I don’t want to screw stuff up for you guys.”
“It’s fine. You’re doing us a big favor.” The coach said, honestly. “From now on though, promise me, even if you wet yourself, just keep going like nothing happened. Unless you’re injured, no one ever stops the routine. Can you promise me that?”
I nodded. “I promise,” I said apologetically. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know;” The coach said and shrugged. “But now you do. If you don’t react, probably no one will notice- if you leave the stage, everyone notices.” I nodded again. “You ready to give it another try?”
I sucked in a deep breath, nodded, and we broke into the second routine again. It went a lot better. We kept going through it and, while I was still uncertain at a few points, the coach assured An hour later we were finished, Kirsten and I were exhausted, and we started packing up to head home.
“Hey,” The girl that had offered me her uniform said, walking up next to us.
“Hi,” I said, embarrassed. “Sorry if I got…anything on the uniform…”
“It’s okay; Ms. Weaver said she’d wash it before returning it. I’m sure that was real embarrassing for you.”
I nodded, it certainly had been embarrassing.
“Do you wear pull-ups a lot?” She asked, continuing. Her interest seemed genuine.
My jaw dropped. How did she know? Suddenly, I imagined the scene that must’ve occurred while I was in the restroom. For Kirsten to have gotten to me so fast she must’ve grabbed a pull-up from her mom’s bag and ran across the room without hiding it. Of course they all knew what I was wearing now… I blushed.
“Just…sometimes…” I tried to explain, humiliated.
"Thanks so much for doing this. You’re a life saver."Another girl said from a few feet away. Relief washed over my at the change of subject.
“I’m sorry I suck.” I replied back, sadly.
“Well, you’re not as good as us, but I think you’ll do well enough on Sunday that we might place.” She added, considering. “Besides, Kirsten would’ve been so disappointed if we couldn’t do her pyramid.”
“Not to mention,” The coach added, walking over to us, “if you didn’t join we’d have had to rework the whole routine for seven instead of eight. That means totally different positions. Their movements would look much worse if we had to do that, with only two days to practice it. You’re allowing them to keep the routine they practiced for.”
Those comments made me feel a little better but I still kept going over and over the moves in my mind. I would be good enough to impress Kirsten on Sunday, I swore it. I retrieved Kirsten’s blue panties, which I had soiled, in a plastic baggie and Ms. Weaver took them from me and threw them in a bag. Soon we were all packed up and headed to the hotel.
“Well, that was exciting, huh Stephanie?” Ms. Weaver asked as I got in the car. I blushed.
“His name is Stephen, mom!” Megan corrected, giggling. I was glad she hadn’t said that inside.
“We’re going to call him Stephanie this whole weekend.” Ms. Weaver explained to her youngest. “Or we risk screwing up and embarrassing him if the others find out, okay?”
“Okay,” Megan and Kirsten intoned.
“And, Stephanie, if you’re not okay with this, it’s okay to speak up and I will stop it right away.” Ms. Weaver added to me. “You’re seriously helping Kirsten and the other girls out but it’s not something you have to do. I can always just say you had to go home.”
“It’s okay; I want to do it.” I added, and Kirsten looked at me with Bambi eyes. I could tell she’d be crushed if I tried to back out now. With that settled, we headed back to hotel for our first evening in Vegas.