My stepfather happened to be a genuine bastard. Sure, kids say it. Usually it's because he took away their favorite toy, or grounded them. Maybe he even kept them from doing things they wanted to do. However, my stepfather turned out to be different. He took away my dignity and kept me from having a normal life. I only hope he realized how much of a bastard he became, before he took his own life in prison. Perhaps I should give a little history.

In the Spring of 1985, the doctor slapped me on the butt, and I breathed my first breath through a screaming cry. I was given the name Zachary Emlyn Taylor. Though I looked like any other healthy baby boy, I had been born a bit different. I came into this world with hypogonadism, a syndrome that would cause me problems later in life, but somewhat irrelevant at this point in the story. The doctors had no way of catching it, so they assumed I would be like any other normal boy.

For the most part, I did have a normal life as a little boy. I got into trouble a lot with my older brother Justin, who had preceded me by almost five years. Together we wrecked things, and caused general mayhem. My parents loved me as much as any other kid. Through it all, I never knew I lacked anything. I raced through the toddler stage without any signs of trouble. For a long time there were no impending road blocks to my development, at least none that were visible.

Two months after my fifth birthday, my father, Kevin, died in a horrible car wreck. He left my mother, Susan, with a large amount of life insurance money, and my brother and I hefty savings bonds for when we turned eighteen. I loved my real father as much as a five year old could. It was hard for awhile for Justin and I to grasp the concept of our father never being there again, but eventually we moved on.

Perhaps I moved on a bit faster, because I really didn't fully understand it all at the time. My mother took a little more time, constantly crying herself to sleep, but when I reached the age of seven, she had begun to date again. She married my stepfather, Tom Walker, almost a year and a half later, and by the time I turned nine, he had made it his goal to ruin my life.

Aside from taking away the last name of my father, Tom's first move on the agenda was to show my brother and I tough love. To him this meant making fun of our physiques. Usually he would tell us to put some meat on our bones. He informed us that we'd never be taken seriously as real men if we didn't do extraneous labor.

In the course of the next several months we had helped him put a fence in, helped landscape by shoveling in tons of rock, and had helped him put up a shed and dog pen in the backyard. Through the course of each event, I personally was berated as being a sissy and told I needed to be a real man, because I couldn't keep up with them. My brother took it all to heart, and eventually would go on to lifting weights and playing football.

Eventually my stepfather found I couldn't put on a lot of muscle, and he started to take it easy on me. Though his form of taking it easy still entailed the berating comments. The sissy comments came more and more, especially when I decided to allow my hair to grow out. He insisted that I get it cut before school started. My mother liked it.

She put her foot down, and my bushy, curly locks of dirty blonde hair stayed. When it came time to start school, my hair had almost grown to chin length. I thought for sure my mother standing up to my stepfather would be the end of his torment. For a while it seemed that way.

It all started going downhill when I met Tiffany, my first girlfriend, (and I use the term loosely) in the sixth grade. At least once a week, sometimes two or three times, I would go over to her house after school. We would do homework, play games, run around her neighborhood, and basically it was just two kids having fun.

I loved spending time there - mostly to get away from my stepfather, as he would come home early sometimes - but my mother would always pick me up way too early. My mother didn't mind me going there. It kept me from being home alone for a few hours on most days, and she could get me right on the way home from work.

On one of my occasional trips to Tiffany's house, I noticed her painting her toenails a light pink. I remember it was barely noticeable against the color of her skin beneath, and it fascinated me. Why, I asked, would someone waste their time painting their nails to where it wasn't even noticeable? Only it came out in absurd sixth grade vernacular.

"Why do you waste your time with that?"

"It feels good," she responded. A few moments passed. "Would you like to try it?"

I'm sure her neighbors probably heard me say no, but she insisted she only meant to try it on her. I hesitantly obliged and soon found myself on the floor in front of her. She showed me how to apply it on a couple of her toes, and then handed the small brush and bottle to me. It felt like it took hours, but I carefully applied the nail polish to the rest of her toes. As I recall, she had the cutest feet I can remember.

As she cleaned up a few of my mistakes, she must have asked me three or four times if I'd like for her to paint mine. I turned her down each time, even with her assurance that the nail polish remover was right there. We sat and talked for a little bit, until she had me apply a second coat. Soon after I had to leave.

We never said anything about it, but over the course of the week to follow, I couldn't help but to look at her feet and know I painted her toenails. It was a tiny little secret we shared. I'm sure she caught me looking several times, because the next time I went to her house, she broke out the nail polish first thing and asked if I wanted to paint her nails. I showed perhaps too much enthusiasm as I took the tiny bottle from her.

She disappeared into the bathroom, and walked out barefoot several minutes later. After we both were settled, I began the painstaking process of painting her toenails the same light pink as before. The only difference was that I felt more comfortable the second time, and I think she did too. In fact I felt so comfortable with our new closeness, that I stole a kiss on each one of her feet. At the time I don't know why I did it, as we hadn't even shared many kisses on the lips. However, she seemed happy that I did it.

This little ritual of ours went on for several months. She would allow me to paint her toenails almost every time I went to her house, each time insisting that I finish with a kiss on each foot. We used different colors, but she had a fondness for pink. So for the most part we would go through the different shades of pinks.

Every so often I would watch her paint her fingernails to match. Though she offered to let me do her fingernails, I declined with too much fear that I would screw them up. I never told anyone about our little ritual. I was afraid people would get the wrong impression. It just wasn't something little boys do for playtime. So it continued, about once a week, until close to the end of the school year.

I must've been really bored one day. Tiffany sat in front of me. Her feet rested gently upon my folded legs, and her toenails sparkled with a fresh coat of hot pink nail polish. She seemed bored as well, because I remember her staring outside her back door. It was the tail end of December, and too cold to do anything outside.

Either the boredom got to me, or the sheer power of persuasion, but after a bit of pleading, she finally got to me. I agreed to let her paint my toenails. At first I chose the light pink color that wouldn't show, but she seemed upset. She revealed she wanted to paint mine to match hers. I looked at the little bottle of hot pink polish, and reluctantly agreed. I could always take it off. I uncrossed my legs, as she pulled at my socks. After a few quick rolls on the legs of my jeans, she was happily at work.

The feeling surprised me at first. It was strange, but not as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it actually felt good, as she had put it earlier. It felt as if my nails had an extra bit of protection. We sat in silence as she applied the first coat. She seemed to be having fun, and so I didn't put up much of a fight.

I watched her cute innocent face contort into a series of varying degrees of seriousness. Her long black hair had been tied out of the way into a ponytail, but short strands of it fell past her face. Then my eyes fell on her painted toes sitting so very close to my own feet. Each toenail she painted soon mimicked one of her own. Before long she had finished, and her voice snapped me back to reality.

"Do you want me to take it off, or would you like a second coat?"

"I don't see how another coat would hurt."

Tiffany smiled brightly. After a few minutes of drying, she once again set about painting my toenails. When she finished she asked if I wanted my fingernails done. I quickly declined her offer, thinking we'd gone far enough for the day. She still seemed happy, and put her cute little toes next to mine to compare. We spent the rest of the afternoon lying on her bed playing videogames. Our feet up in the air behind us, with matching hot pink toenails.

From then on, our ritual changed. Every time I would go to her house, before we did anything, I would paint her toenails, and then she would paint mine to match. Then I would thank her by giving each of her feet a kiss. Though my polish would be quickly removed before I went home, I could tell she still enjoyed doing it. She seemed a bit sad that mine had to go, but she understood. After our ritual, we would do our homework together, and then goof around for a bit. The entire thing brought us closer together.

Eventually she asked if I could get away with wearing nail polish until I saw her again, and I took the challenge. My only failsafe was my mother's nail polish remover, but I could try to pass it off as my girlfriend getting bored, if I ever got caught. My stepfather and brother most likely wouldn't let me live it down, but I took the chance anyway. It seemed to work, and before long Tiffany had me wearing polish fulltime on my toenails. She would change the color every time I went to her place. I constantly had to make sure it wasn't seen at home.

Summer came fast, and I convinced my mother to let me spend entire days at Tiffany’s house. She would drop me off before work, and pick me up after. What I took as my mom being entirely trusting at the time, turned out to be her way of spoiling me because of the way my stepfather treated me. Only then I was a kid, and really didn't think that deeply about it. What started as a hot summer, turned into one of the hottest on record, and on the last day of June it became almost unbearable.

One day, a Monday in particular, the heat had gotten to us, and we both developed a bit of cabin fever. On that same day, we had just finished painting each other's toenails bright pink. I watched her happily as she painted her fingernails to match. Not wanting to venture outside, I could hardly think of anything inside that seemed worth doing. We had gone through all of our usual options. Television, movies, or video games didn't suit us that day. Neither one of us felt like running around the house.

So there we were, sitting in the kitchen. Our bare feet exposed hot pink nails to the world, and she was putting a final coat on her fingernails. I watched her for what seemed like hours. Tiffany had pulled her hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of her way. She really did look cute. Her face glowed with a certain innocence and youth. While not much could be said about her body, she had started wearing bras, and showed signs of breast growth. Her legs were a bit skinny, but nice, and again, she had the cutest feet.

"I really want to go swimming," she said.

"I don't have any trunks."

"You never bring any."

"I swear I'll bring them next time," I said. "And besides, you already painted my toenails. I can't go like this."

Tiffany looked down at my hands. "Then at least let me do your fingernails."

I thought about it for a long moment, as I watched her finish her own. I'd always turned her down, but it didn't seem less enjoyable than painting my toenails. If it kept her mind off of going to the pool, then perhaps it would be worthwhile. It could always come off.

"Fine," I said. "And I promise I'll go to the pool with you next time."

"Great! But they need a little more work," she said, getting up to leave the room. "I'll be right back."

After several minutes had gone by, Tiffany returned with a small case. I sort of panicked when she started pulling beauty supplies out of the case, but I knew she wouldn't do anything permanent. First she took my fingers one at a time and trimmed them a little. I honestly didn't care about keeping up with my fingernails, so they'd grown a bit the past few weeks. While I pondered about that, Tiffany had set about filing each nail into an oval, and roughing up the tops.

"I hope you don't mind me doing all of this."

"Whatever takes your mind off of the heat."

Tiffany smiled, and continued to work on my nails. After filing them, she buffed them to make them look smoother. Then she put on a coat of clear polish, which she said was a base coat. I had absolutely no idea what this meant, but she claimed it filled in the rough spots on my nails. When several more minutes had passed, Tiffany had started painting each fingernail bright pink to match my toes. She got up to put her beauty case away between coats, and left me there alone at the table. Finally I heard footsteps on the wood floor behind me.

"I was starting to think you got lost," I said.

A familiar, but unexpected voice rang out behind me. "You know, that really is a good color on you."

I turned quickly in my chair to see Tiffany's sister, who apparently had come home early from her summer job. Tiffany's sister, Kate, was five years older and would be a senior in high school in the upcoming school year. Where Tiffany was cute, Kate was gorgeous. She had long slender legs, a nice pair of breasts, and her face looked like that of a budding model. Something about her being the one to catch me doing something I deemed as close to being forbidden, made me feel even more embarrassed. Tiffany entered the room, and brushed past her.

"We're just messing around," I said.

Kate followed her sister over to the table and sat down between us. "Tiff really did a number on you."

"We got bored," I said, with a bit of nervousness in my voice.

"He wouldn't go to the pool with me," Tiffany said. "So I'm painting his nails." She started another coat as we continued to talk.

Kate laughed lightly. "You two act like this has never been done before."

"Well it's the first time I've done his fingernails," Tiffany said. "Most of the time he won't let me."

"Really?" Kate sat up, and seemed a bit more intrigued. "My boyfriend lets me do it all the time." She gave me a teasing, and somewhat taunting look. "You should be more open."

"I'm open!" I retorted.

"We can't think of anything to do today," Tiffany said.

"Well I planned on working all night," Kate said. "But it was slow and they didn't need me at the restaurant."

"You wanna take us to the mall?"

Kate looked at her sister. "I don't want to go anywhere. It's too hot."

"Let's go check the TV again."

I felt Tiffany's hand wrap around my right wrist. She pulled me from my chair, and we made our way into the living room. We reached the couch, and she pulled me down to sit next to her. Nothing seemed interesting, as she flipped through the channels. It was a bit early, and there were only soap operas and talk shows on. The fun channels all had reruns of shows which ran relentlessly, so most of them were watched hundreds of times.

Kate walked in with some bottled fruit drink. I watched her settle into a chair, which somewhat faced us. She feigned interest in our channel surfing, and even commented on which shows were good or bad. However, she didn't demand we stop on one she would be interested in. I was used to that from my brother. He'd deliberately want to watch something I had no interest in, even though I had been at the television first.

"There is nothing on," Tiffany said. She pressed the power button on the remote, and tossed it to the side.

"Board game?" Kate asked.

"More like bored game," Tiffany said, mocking her sister's suggestion. She gave off one of those disgusted princess sighs, and collapsed on me.

Kate looked at both of us, shaking her head. "I honestly don't know how you two make it through the day."

"I'd rather be bored here," I said. "Than be with my stepfather at home."

Kate gave me a concerned look. "He doesn't hit you or anything, does he?"

"No," I said. "Nothing like that."

"He's just a jerk," Tiffany said.

"How so?" Kate asked.

"He runs me down constantly," I said. "His latest thing is saying I'm too small to be a real man."

"That's awful," Kate said. "I mean, you're small… but you're like twelve."

"I think he's the perfect size," Tiffany said, while patting my chest.

"According to him, I should be more like my brother."

"Your brother?" Kate laughed. "No offense, but your brother can be a jerk sometimes."

"Trust me I know." I put my cheek down on top of Tiffany's head. "I hope he grows out of it. He used to be nice."

"I bet your stepfather would go crazy if he saw you with painted nails," Kate said with a laugh.

"I've been doing his toes for months," Tiffany mumbled. "Hasn't got caught yet."

"Wait," Kate said. "You mean you keep your toenails painted?"

"Yes," I said. "It's sort of a secret thing we do."

"We make them match."

Tiffany slipped her left foot behind my right foot, and lifted it in the air for her sister to see. Kate pushed out of her chair. She walked over to get a closer look. I watched her take Tiffany's ankle in her left hand. Then I felt Kate's right hand around my right ankle. She held our feet up close together, and carefully examined them. After a moment she let us go.

"You two have more in common than toenail color," Kate said. "Your feet almost look identical."

Then it dawned on me. This whole time I had been admiring Tiffany's feet, I had never seen the similarities. Suddenly I knew the reason why I liked her feet so much. We had the same feet. Not only that, but we had other things in common. Tiffany and I were both about the same size. I was only about an inch taller than her.

Here my stepfather nitpicked constantly at sissy aspects of my physique, and now I realized why. I had the body of a twelve year old girl! Did she see all of this in me as well? Was this why she tried to get me interested in girly things? I suddenly became very self-conscience, thinking about all of the months of painting nails and even taking those dumb tests in her magazines.

My mind raced. The whole sixth grade had to listen to a lecture about puberty, and I had gone with the other boys. However, with my condition, I didn't really match up with most of the other boys. I definitely didn't fit with the girls. My mother spent the rest of the night explaining everything to me, but that left me even more confused. Her infamous "some little boys develop faster than other little boys" line didn't quite put my mind at ease.

For some reason, I never had seen myself in either gender role, and I had constant reminders of not fitting in. Kids teased me at school, my stepfather and brother teased me at home, and now I felt my girlfriend had been taunting me with it the entire year. Now her sister saw something different about me too. Kate smiled at me. Something was different about it with these two. Why didn't I hate them for it, like I did the others?

While I thought about all of this, Tiffany held her foot up next to mine. I couldn't help but look at her foot. It seemed almost exactly like mine. As I played a bit of footsy with her, Kate flopped down on the sofa on my other side.

"You know," Kate said. "I wonder…"

"What?" I asked, ready to jump on the offensive.

"Well you wear her nail polish," she said. "Maybe you can wear some of her shoes."

"Maybe," I said.

"Would you like to?" Kate asked.

"Wear her shoes?" I gave her an awkward look. "For what?"

"Just to see if they fit," Kate said. "Maybe some other things."

"I'm curious too," Tiffany said.

"I don't know…"

"It would give us something to do," Tiffany said.

"Indeed," Kate said.

I sat and thought for a moment. When our feet and legs dropped back down again, I suddenly realized how big of an ass I'd been. All month long Tiffany had been begging me to go to the pool with her, but I had kept her from it. It was like I had been keeping her from enjoying her summer. Something about what they wanted to do, made me feel embarrassed and a bit resentful. I may have let it show a little.

"They're just shoes," I mumbled.

"I hope I didn't upset you," Kate said.

"You really didn't say anything hurtful," I said.

Tiffany sat up, and looked at me. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad," I said. "What do I have to be mad about?"

"You sound kind of mad," Tiffany said.

"I'm just thinking is all."

Tiffany poked me in the arm a few times. "Thinking about what?"

"I'm thinking I could've gone swimming, and let you have more fun this summer," I said.

"I've had fun," Tiffany said. "You're fun to be with."

"Well…" I glanced at Kate and then faced Tiffany again. "I thought, if it'll be fun for you at least…" She batted her hazel eyes, and I couldn't resist anymore. "I can try it."

Kate faked clearing her throat. "It was my suggestion."

"Can Kate help?" Tiffany asked, looking at me.

"Help me put on shoes?"

"No!" Tiffany jumped from the couch and looked at both of us. "She can do your hair and makeup!"

"What?"

"You said you were open," Kate said with a grin.

Before I could protest, Kate and Tiffany had stood up, and both girls were dragging me down the hallway. We ended up in Tiffany's room. Tiffany sat next to me on the bed, and Kate exited the room, leaving me alone with her. She put her hand in mine and flashed me a smile.

“Are you nervous?"

"I'm kind of embarrassed," I said.

"You don't need to be embarrassed in front of me."

"It's not you so much," I said. "I feel a bit awkward around your sister."

"Because she's older?"

"Well there's that," I said. "But I think she's pretty."

"She is pretty," Tiffany said, with a hint at sadness in her voice.

"Well you are too," I said.

Tiffany blushed. "Thanks."

Kate returned with a small bag. She had changed out of her work uniform, and now had on a yellow t-shirt with short jean shorts. Her tanned legs seemed to go on forever down to her bare feet. Though her toenails weren't painted, her feet were immaculate. I imagined kissing them like I had kissed Tiffany's so many times before. Everything beautiful about Tiffany, had been amplified five times in her sister.

"You can look at me," Kate said. "You don't have to stare at my feet."

My eyes shot up to look at her face. "I…"

"He probably wants to paint your nails," Tiffany said. "He thinks you're pretty."

"Really?" Kate said. "You think I'm pretty?"

I blushed and nodded. "Yes."

"Well maybe you can do my nails later." She walked over and sat next to me on the bed. "Right now I'm going to put a bit of makeup on you."

Kate adjusted herself to where she had one leg up on the bed, and the other hanging over the side. She faced me, and I think purposefully rested her foot against my thigh. For the next several minutes she brushed out my wavy blonde hair. I watched her open up several clips, and felt her place them in various spots around my head. It felt strange getting this much attention from an older girl, and it ended all too quickly.

"He should probably change first," Tiffany said, as she got up and walked to her dresser. "I'd rather makeup get on my clothes than his."

"Probably right," Kate said. "But what's he going to wear?" She looked at me with a smile. "Take your shirt off sweetie."

"I'm sure I can find something," Tiffany said. "Wish we had time for everything."

I did as Kate asked. It felt weird to peel my shirt off in front of an older girl. She fixed a bit of my hair that got messed up in the process. Tiffany came up behind me, and took my shirt. Soon she had me putting on something else over my chest. I soon realized it was one of her bras. My arms went through the straps and then she closed it in the back. Kate helped her adjust the straps on my shoulders.

Tiffany prompted me to stand up. Kate gave a playful tug at my jean shorts. She smiled and gave me a quick wink. I unbuttoned my shorts and unzipped them. Then I felt Tiffany pulling them down, and I released my grip. She helped me step out of them, and I stood before both girls with nothing but underwear on. Tiffany handed a pair of white cotton panties to Kate, who in turn handed them to me. I'll never forget the provocative look she gave me.

"You can step out in the hall if you'd like," Kate said.

"Thank you," I said.

I scurried out into the hallway. Tiffany closed the door behind me, to give some extra privacy. After a quick breath, I dropped my underwear. I stood for a lingering moment with the soft white panties in my hands. Looking down at my bright pink fingernails and toenails, I figured this wouldn't hurt too much, even if I had to wear more. I took a deep breath and stepped into the panties.

"Don't forget to tuck your… you know."

My face turned red as I followed Kate's advice. I thought for sure these things were going to feel different, but I realized they weren't much different than what I had on. However, I felt different. I really couldn't explain it, but they felt better, or at least made me feel better. The two girls beckoning to see me, prompted me slowly, but surely, to come back through the door.

"Too cute," Kate said, still sitting on the bed. She waved me over.

"I can't wait to see the rest," Tiffany said. She seemed gleeful as she took my underwear and put it with the rest of my clothes.

I walked over to Kate. She patted the spot on the bed in front of her. So I got up on the bed, and sat facing her with my legs crossed. After pulling several things out of the bag, she lifted a circular container toward me. It had a mild pinkish red caked powder in it, which she dusted over lightly with a large brush. Then she lifted the brush to my face, and brushed across each cheek with it. I felt the soft bristles tickle my nose for a slight moment. She slapped the container shut and put it to the side.

The next thing she picked up was a square container with a few mixed shades of powder. Kate collected a bit of some light gray on a small brush. She tapped the brush on the container, and lifted it up to my face. I looked at her unknowingly. When she saw my expression, she decided to start explaining about everything.

"This is eye shadow," Kate said. "I need you to close your pretty blue eyes."

I shut my eyes, and felt her move the brush a few times over each lid. She then went back over it a bit lighter, fanning the shadow out to where she wanted it. Her closeness to me, and her light touch, excited me a bit. Even if this stuff had to come off in a few hours, and I never did this again, being this close to Kate seemed worth every second.

"The first thing I put on was blush," Kate said after a moment. "I'm just doing light makeup so it's not too hard to get off." I heard her snap the container shut and open another. "This is some powder to help give you a softer look. You really don't need it with your baby face, but I'm doing it for fun." I felt a large brush go over every inch of my face. "Ok, you can open your eyes."

When my eyes opened, all I could see were Kate's gorgeous green eyes smiling at me. I remember thinking at that moment about how I would kill to have an older sister like her. She always seemed so nice and understanding. Tiffany never complained about fighting with Kate, and I couldn't recall a single time when Kate had been unpleasant. I couldn't stop staring at her, and she had an amused look on her face as she stared right back at me.

"You ok?" she finally asked. "You're not gonna run out of here screaming are you?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I was just thinking it would be cool to have an older sister like you."

"Aw…" Kate gave me a cute sad face. "I think I'm gonna cry."

"That was like the sweetest thing I think I've ever heard," Tiffany said. She had been busying herself by running around the room collecting things for me to try on.

"Anytime you want a big sister, you can come to me."

"Or if you want just a sister," Tiffany said. "I'm here too." She chose this time to come over and sit next to me on the bed.

"Thanks you two," I said. "I feel kind of embarrassed to say it, but I'm actually enjoying this."

"Don't be embarrassed around us." Kate held a tube of lipstick up. "I know it's easy for us to say that, but if this feels good, or even natural to you, then by all means you can talk to us about it."

"I honestly don't know what to think about all of it," I said.

"I think you look kinda cute with makeup," Kate said.

"Not sure his stepfather would agree with you," Tiffany said.

Kate glanced at her, then looked back at me. "You seem to get upset when your stepfather is mentioned."

"I'm just used to being treated a certain way," I said.

"How so?"

"My stepfather constantly is calling me names." I looked down at Kate's bare leg. "Like sissy, girly boy, cupcake, even powder puff." For some reason I couldn't look up at her, like I felt she had hurt me with those words I just said. "He doesn't think I'm turning into his idea of a man."

"I'm sorry," Kate said.

"Me too," Tiffany said.

"Why should you two be sorry?"

"Well…" Tiffany looked down. "I didn't know all of that was going on. I just thought you enjoyed doing certain things."

"To be honest, I really do." I looked at her until she looked up at me. "I like the nail polish, but mostly because it's a secret we share. Then eventually it started to feel good."

"Did we go too far with the makeup and underwear?" Kate asked.

"I don't know anymore," I said. "At first I found it kind of hurtful that you two wanted to do this, but I’m having fun now, or at least I was before this conversation." I gave them a feeble laugh.

"We can still have fun," Tiffany said. "And we can always stop talking about your family." A slight laugh followed. "If it's too much though…"

"Tell us if it's too much, and we'll stop," Kate said.

I shook my head. "That aside, this isn't horrible."

"Have you ever thought of dressing up, or going places as a girl?" Kate asked.

"I don't know…"

"I'm not asking because I'm gonna make you," she said. "I'm just curious."

"I'm afraid of getting caught," I said. "It's fine here, but what if word got out…"

"You're probably right," Tiffany said. "Would hate for someone your parents know to see you like this."

"If at any time you want to do this," Kate said. "I suggest you stay inside."

"Agreed!" Tiffany said. "But you're gonna need a girl's name."

"She's right," Kate said. "Zach just doesn't work both ways."

"How about Missy?" Tiffany asked.

"That sounds too much like someone's mad at me," I said. "Like look here missy."

"I always liked Bailey," Kate said.

"I kind of like that too," Tiffany said.

"Then Bailey it is," I said with a smile.

"Well then Bailey," Kate said. "I'm going to show you how to apply lipstick."

Kate held the tube of lipstick up, and pulled the cap from the top. I watched her twist the tube until the lipstick spiraled up from it. Then she spread it slowly across her upper lip, and put a liberal amount on her lower lip. She squeezed her lips together and moved them back and forth. When she ended the process, her lips were coated in a hot pink color.

"This is the closest one I had to match your nails," Kate said.

She then pulled up a tissue, put it between her lips and blotted them. Afterwards she put on another coat, repeating the same process as before. When she had finished she gestured for Tiffany to come closer. Tiffany crawled around me and sat adjacent to Kate and I. Kate took the lipstick and applied it to her sister's lips. Then handed her a tissue to blot, and reapplied another coat. Seeming satisfied at the results, Kate then handed the lipstick to me.

"Here's a mirror if you need it," Tiffany said, holding up one of the small circular containers.

I took the lipstick in my right hand, and what I later learned was called a compact in the other hand. For the first time since this all started, I got a glimpse of my makeup and hair in the mirror. Some part of me expected a comical look from two girls having fun, but I was pleased with what I saw. Kate had really done a nice job on the makeup and hair, and made me look like a young little lady.

I moved the mirror down so I could see my lips, and held the lipstick up. While I tried my best to emulate what Kate had shown me, Kate had set about applying my same look to Tiffany. The blush gave her rosy cheeks, and the gray eye shadow on Tiffany made her pretty hazel eyes look amazing. By the time I was ready to blot my lips, Kate had brought out Tiffany's eyes even more with some eyeliner.

I worked on my second coat of lipstick, and watched Kate give Tiffany thicker lashes with some mascara. Then she filled in her eyebrows with a pencil, making them a little more pronounced. When Kate had finished, Tiffany looked several years older. The transformation seemed amazing to me, and I couldn't help but stare.

"Would you like me to do that to you too?" Kate asked.

I nodded silently.

Kate took my chin and gently turned my head to face her. "You'll have to hold still." She held up the eyeliner. "Keep your eyes open, and look up."

I did as she asked, and soon felt her carefully penciling in eyeliner on the edge of my eyelids. When she finished with one eye, she let me blink a few times, and then applied eyeliner to the other eye. Kate took her time with the process, being very careful around my eye. She waited a few moments after she finished, to let me get used to having control of my eyes back. While I did this, she filled in my eyebrows with light gentle strokes from a pencil.

"Now keep facing me, but look down at all of our pretty feet," Kate said. "Try not to get too excited."

"He's blushing," Tiffany said with a giggle.

"Because he likes feet," Kate said. "At least pretty feminine feet."

Indeed I was blushing. Once it was pointed out, I couldn't stop blushing. Tiffany scooted back, and put her feet in my lap. The entire time Kate put mascara on my lashes, Tiffany wiggled her toes under my gaze. Kate had pointed out something which I had probably been in denial about for a long time. I think I did like girl's feet.

"I do tend to notice girl's feet a lot," I admitted.

"Of course you do sweetie," Kate said. "It's only natural." She closed the mascara and put it aside. "It explains why you like to paint Tiff's nails, and probably why you wanted her to paint yours." She used her finger to blend the pencil into my eyebrows. "You wanted to copy her somehow, and now…" Kate turned my head to face Tiffany. "You match."

"He…" Tiffany said. "I mean… she, is so cute."

"You're cute too," I said. "And you even look older."

"Yeah, you both do," Kate said. "But you're both missing something."

Kate removed herself from the bed and walked over to the dresser. When she came back, she had several socks with her. She rolled up a couple into a ball, and pulled my bra forward to stuff it in on one side. Then she rolled up two more socks and put it in the other side of the bra.

Tiffany clambered forward, nearly ending up sitting in my lap. She quickly peeled her shirt off. Kate shook her head at her sister's audacity to take her shirt off in front of me, but rolled up some more socks for her. Tiffany put them in her bra and fidgeted with them, while Kate fidgeted with mine. Before long, both Tiffany and I had a set of breasts comparable to a girl Kate's age.

"And there we have Bailey," Kate said.

"We're sisters!" Tiffany said, throwing her arms around me in a big hug.

Kate walked back to the dresser and pulled out some navy blue tights. She tossed them to Tiffany. Then I saw Kate pull out another pair of white tights. Tiffany pushed herself off of the bed, and pulled her white knit shorts off. I watched her for a moment start to put on the tights, until Kate blocked my view.

She pulled at my legs until I let them hang over the side of the bed. Then she gathered the material in a bunch on one leg, and stooped down to slip it over my left foot. After repeating the process on my right foot, Kate began to work the stretchy material up my legs. She had me stand when she reached my knees, and continued to pull the tights up to my waist. I'd never had any sort of form-fitting clothing on my entire lower body before, and it felt strange. With Kate being the one to put them on, it also felt a bit embarrassing, but the experience wasn't altogether unpleasant.

When Kate finished putting the tights on me, she stood and went to the closet. This left Tiffany and I staring at each other. She flashed me a pleasant smile, and I couldn't help but return one of my own. Then a bit of awkward silence filled the air as Kate rummaged through the closet. Tiffany looked almost as pretty as her sister, and almost the same age.

Most boys would kill to see a girl in their underwear, whether they were older or not. However, I didn't feel the same about it as other boys would have. Tiffany was my girlfriend, but to a sixth grader that really didn't mean what it would for older people. I had kissed her a few times on the lips, and hugged her, but really those were the only two things we had above and beyond being good friends. In fact, we had long stretches of time where we were just close best friends. That day in particular, I felt more like her brother, or sister, than her boyfriend.

Kate moved away from the closet, and handed us both a white, short sleeve Peter Pan blouse. Tiffany put the shirt on, and took a moment to admire how her new "breasts" looked in it. I watched her for a minute as I slipped my arms through the somewhat puffy sleeves. The ends of the sleeves rested about an inch above the middle of my upper arm. My eyes trailed away from Tiffany's body, and down to the buttons of the blouse. I wasn't used to the buttons being on the other side, and I had to look at what I was doing.

By the time I had finished buttoning the blouse, Tiffany had already put on a pleated, dark red and navy blue plaid miniskirt. Kate came over to me, and stooped down. She held a pale blue miniskirt in her hands. I remember it being ultra feminine in design. It had a lacey, almost crochet hemline, and a white band across the waistline. When she helped me step into it, and started to pull it up my legs, I could tell it consisted of a light weight summery material.

"That's one of my favorite skirts," Tiffany said. "But I only get to wear it for special occasions." She walked over to us, and handed Kate a pair of white dress sandals.

"Well now Bailey gets to wear it for a special occasion," Kate said, smiling at me.

While Kate helped me into the open-toe sandals, and strapped them on my feet, Tiffany came over and put some clip-on earrings on my ears. She wasn't allowed to get her ears pierced until high school, so she had quite a selection. These were simple little light blue hoops, which matched perfectly with the skirt. I imagined she wore them with it all the time.

Kate finished putting the sandals on my feet, and I could make out my pink toenails under the white tights. I instantly went from five foot nothing, to being two inches taller, and felt like I was looking down on Tiffany. It was short-lived, however, as Kate brought out a pair of dark red Mary Jane heels for her sister. They had a three inch heel on them. So when she stepped into them, we were the same height. When Kate stood up, we found we were merely three inches away from being as tall as her.

"You girls look adorable," Kate said. "You have to let me take some pictures."

"Can we do like a catalog?" Tiffany asked. "With poses and different outfits."

"That sounds fun," Kate said. "I'll get my camera." She paused to look at me. "If it's ok with Bailey that is?"

"I'm fine with it," I said. "As long as it never leaves this house."

"Agreed!" Kate said, and left the room.

"This will be fun!" Tiffany said, gushing with enthusiasm. "You go on into the living room, and I'll get some outfits together."

I took a few careful steps to get used to the heels, and proceeded from her room toward the living room. When I passed Kate's room, she seemed busy trying to get her digital camera and a few other things together. She didn't notice me, so I kept walking down the hallway. Eventually I ended up in the living room alone. I stood there awkwardly until Kate came to join me.

"I thought we could do a few solo shots," Kate said. "Why don't you step over to chair and sit first?"

Following her advice, I moved over to the chair. She demonstrated for me to smooth my skirt out before I sat, and I tried my best to adhere to what she showed me. Kate moved about me, having me sit up straighter, and on the edge of the chair. She had me put my knees together, and cross one foot behind the other. Then she fussed with my hair, told me to put my hands in my lap, and lastly told me to smile.

Kate snapped several photos of me in the chair, and then had me stand. Tiffany came in with an armful of clothing, and went back for more. While she was gone, Kate took several more pictures of me. She adjusted my pose on numerous occasions, and had me stand in various spots. Tiffany came back with a few more garments, most of her sock drawer, and I think every pair of shoes she owned.

"Ok, take a break," Kate said, turning to leave the room. "I'll be back to take shots of the two of you together."

"Are you having fun Bailey?" Tiffany asked.

"At first I thought I'd hate it," I said. "But so far I'm having a blast."

Kate came back with her camera. Soon she had me posing with Tiffany like we were catalog models. She had us do funny poses like Tiffany was telling me a secret, or another time Kate had her kiss me on the cheek and I acted surprised. We changed outfits at one point, and I exchanged my skirt for a black jumper, and my white sandals for black penny loafers. Tiffany changed from her outfit into a dark red dress, still dawning the navy blue tights and dark red Mary Jane heels. She was taller than me for the next few pictures.

After a few more shots, Kate had to go empty her camera again onto her computer. These were the days before memory sticks started popping up for everything, and Kate had spent her own money on it, wanting to be a photographer later in life. As a twelve year old kid, I thought she was pretty good. Then again, I was also completely infatuated with her after today's events.

While Kate was in the other room, Tiffany had me do another wardrobe change. I put on a pair of rose colored jeans and some lacy white socks with a pair of white sneakers. She had me keep the same top on, because she thought it went well with the outfit. Tiffany put on blue jeans with a glittery design of butterflies going up the outside of her right leg. A green no sleeve top, and black ballet flats finished off the look. She had kept the navy blue tights on underneath the jeans.

Kate came back and seemed impressed with the new outfits. She snapped several shots of us in various poses, then sat and waited for us to change yet again. Tiffany kept her green shirt on, but lost the jeans and shoes. She put a simple white cotton skirt on and stole the white sneakers from me to complete her outfit. I started to take my jeans off, and Kate stepped over to me.

"I think Bailey should keep this shirt on still, but go back to skirts," Kate said.

"He can wear my original skirt," Tiffany said.

She handed me the plaid skirt she had on with her first outfit, and I took it in my hands. Kate retrieved a pair of black Mary Jane flats for me, while I stepped into the skirt. When I had pulled it up, and was busy fastening the buttons on it, Kate stooped down and helped me step into the shoes. Then she stood back up and again started taking more pictures.

Kate only took a few pictures of us in these outfits, but decided she wanted us to try something more summery. So Tiffany took off her entire outfit, and put on short jean shorts and a yellow t-shirt. She finished the outfit with a pair of yellow flip-flops. My "summery" outfit consisted of a short black skirt and a white top with a blue butterfly across the bust line. I again finished the outfit with Tiffany's black ballet flats. Kate seemed to like both outfits, and finished out her memory on the camera with several pictures.

While Kate went back to unload her camera again, Tiffany handed me some light pink tights and the white skirt from her previous outfit. As I busied myself with putting these two items on, Tiffany changed into red tights, and used the black skirt I was wearing. She finished her outfit with a red tank top and stole back her black ballet flats.

When Tiffany had finished, she helped me into a light pink sweater over the top I had on, and had me step into the white sandals from my first outfit. Kate entered the room and again approved of the wardrobe selections. She snapped about twenty more pictures of us, until she grew bored by the same background.

"The living room is getting a bit boring," Kate said.

"We could try the backyard," Tiffany said. "Unless Bailey doesn't want to."

"I'm fine with it," I said.

"Well great," Kate said. "But I suggest you two find something to wear that won't make you catch on fire out there."

Tiffany and I laughed. We kicked off our shoes and started shedding our tights. I pulled the sweater off over my head. Kate handed me a hot pink t-shirt, and I replaced the top I had on with it. By the time I had finished, Kate was holding a black tiered skirt for me to step into. I stepped into it while Tiffany kicked over her black ballet flats to me. Once again, I slipped my feet into the flats to complete my outfit.

I watched Tiffany put on a pale pink sleeveless top, and the same white skirt we'd both worn in previous outfits. She put on a pair of white ankle socks and slipped her white sneakers onto her feet. Kate fixed our hair a bit, and messed with the outfits. When she was satisfied with how we looked, she told us to go on out while she got some shoes.

When you're younger, things like heat and humidity might slow you down a bit outside, but for some reason they never really kept you from venturing outside. Sure, some days no kid in their right mind would want to run around in weather nearing triple digits, but on that day both Tiffany and I forgot completely about it. We were both too excited to be playing our little game, that we took the abuse in stride.

I remember spending what seemed like hours out in the summer sun that day. Tiffany and I posed in about a thousand different poses, and Kate must have shot more than double that in pictures. She went in several times to unload the pictures onto her computer, and would return to take more.

During maybe her fifth return trip, we all started getting a little rowdy. I remember Tiffany saying something to the effect that I made a better girl than a boy. It was said in jest, but I ended up chasing her around the yard. Kate took pictures of us the entire time. Eventually our chasing each other ended up in the side yard, and concluded in the front. That's when things got extremely bad for me.

My stepfather's car was parked in the driveway, and my brother stood at the front door. Apparently he had been waiting on someone to answer the door, but none of us heard it from the backyard. At first Justin didn’t recognize me, but then his mouth dropped when he saw Tiffany chasing me. Kate had caught up with us at about the time my stepfather exited the car. His hands slammed down on the top of the old 1988 Chevy Caprice.

"What the hell are you doing?" my stepfather said, a little louder than needed. "I've been sitting out here waiting for you, and you're running around in skirts?"

Justin glanced at Kate, and then looked away from us all. He walked back down the steps toward the car. I imagine he had a thing for Kate, but he never said anything about her. They really never talked to each other, aside from him dropping me off on occasion and her being home. Kate had said he came in to eat sometimes where she worked, but seemed absorbed with his newfound football buddies. My stepfather's voice rang out again only a bit angrier this time.

"Get your ass in the car!"

"But my things are inside," I stammered.

"I don't give a damn," Tom said. "You get your ass in the car. I told you we had things to do today, as soon as I picked up your brother from practice."

"But these are Tiffany's clothes."

"You can give them back to her later. I'm not going to ask you again."

I watched Justin turn and give me a knowing look, which I understood to mean something along the lines of getting my butt spanked when I got home. If I dragged this out any further it would be worse for me. When I turned to look at Tiffany and Kate, they had a look on their faces like they had just ruined my life. I figured whatever happened couldn't be that bad. It might bring some sort of punishment, and even more berating comments from my stepfather, but it wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I'm sorry Tiffany," I said. "I have to go."

"I hope you'll be okay," Tiffany said.

"Don't try my patience, Zachary," Tom said. "You got ten seconds."

"You better go," Kate said.

"Don't worry about the clothes," Tiffany said. "We'll deal with it later."

Tiffany gave me a tight hug, and a kiss on the lips. Kate gave me a nervous smile, trying to make it all seem not so bad. Then I turned and walked down the short hill to my stepfather's car. He shook his head at me, and my head dropped. I waited for him to get back in the car. Justin reached over and opened the back door for me. This surprised me and I looked at him with a questioning look upon my face.

"Just holding the door for the lady," he said in a sarcastic tone.

"Shut up Justin."

Tom leaned over to the passenger window. "Both of you get in the car. Now!"

It didn't take long for my stepfather to pull out of the driveway, once my brother and I were both in. I waved to Tiffany and Kate, before dropping my head back down to look at my borrowed skirt. For a few blocks there was silence, save for the air conditioner blowing on full. Justin stared out the side window.

"What the hell are you doing dressed as a girl?" Tom finally asked.

"We were bored, and they convinced me to play dress up," I said.

"I really don't get you kids today," he said. "All of you city boys are sissified, and don't know a damn thing about what it means to be a man." He looked at Justin. "At least your brother's doing something manly in his spare time."

"We were just goofing around," I said.

"Well couldn't you find something else to do besides letting them dress you up like a sissy queer?" He looked at me in the rearview mirror. "I mean hell, we have to go to the hardware store and my faggot stepson is dressed like a little girl."

"I'm not gay," I said with some anger.

"You sure as hell could fool me then!" He shook his head. "I told you we had to fix the dishwasher today." He looked at my brother. "Hell… we could just have little sissy prissy pants back there wash them instead."

I stared out my window while the inside of the car erupted in laughter. Several degrading comments followed, both from my stepfather, and from my brother chiming in. By the time we reached the hardware store, I'd heard about every insult imaginable. It finally ended when we pulled into the parking spot, and my stepfather turned off the car. He turned to where he could see both of us.

"I can't have you going in there like that," he said. "People in there know me."

"I'll just sit out here then," I said.

"Like hell you are." He reached into his back pocket and got out his wallet. "Since you want to dress like a little girl, I thought of a good punishment for you." He handed me a twenty dollar bill. "Go next door to Wal-Mart and get yourself some panties."

My brother snickered in the front seat. I looked at my stepfather. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he said. "Get enough for a week or two."

I took the money from him. A look of trepidation spread across my face. "Do I have to?"

"Yes you do," he said. "You want to dress like a little girl, you're going to start wearing panties. Now get going. We'll meet you back here."

I shook my head, but this seemed to make him angry. For a moment I thought if I made a scene he would just drag my butt home and ground me. He sat there staring at me, but I didn't want to look at him. It was moments like this one I really loathed the man. If I didn't do what he said, I knew I'd pay for it later.

"Justin go on in to the hardware store."

My brother didn't argue. He exited the car and left me alone with our stepfather. I felt like he had abandoned me. His car door slamming shut seemed like him shutting me out of his life. It occurred to me at that moment, that I really didn't know my brother anymore. Kate had been right about him, but I still hoped he would change.

"I can't buy panties," I said, but I was met with silence. "Please don't make me."

"You better make sure they're your size, or I'll be bringing you back to exchange them."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"To make damn sure you remember this moment to never do this again."

"I won't do it again," I said. "We were just goofing around this one time."

"Well your one time bought you the rest of the summer in panties," he said. "And since you're being so damn stubborn, get yourself some pink nail polish to go with them."

"But I promise I won't do it again."

"I'm really losing my patience with you," he said. "You have less than a minute to get your sissy ass out of this car."

I reached for the handle of the car door. My eyes pleaded with my stepfather. He gave me a stern look that showed he wanted me to get going. So I did. I pulled on the handle, and pushed the car door open. Since I didn't have any pockets, I clinched my fist tightly around the money as I slammed the car door behind me. As I stormed towards the front doors of Wal-Mart, I could hear my stepfather exiting the car.

My mind drifted to the point in time where I held Tiffany's panties in my hands. I had stared at them for a long time before putting them on, and I tried to recall what the tag said. Since this was all new to me, I had no idea about styles or any of that, but I remember the tag saying medium with a seven, a slash, and an eight. Little did I know that this would be the first of many times I would be confused about female sizes. They all seemed Greek to me.

This wasn't all that confused me. When I reached the women's section of clothing, they had three different areas. I didn't have a clue what the difference was with women's and misses. Based solely on the assumption that Tiffany wasn't a misses size yet, I chose to go to the girl's section. My choice was rewarded, because the first thing I laid eyes on was a package that said "Medium 7/8" on the top. It had an assortment of different panties, twelve in all, and they were bikini style.

I took the find as a sign they were set aside for me, and gathered the package in my hand. It really didn't matter to me what style or even brand they were. I just wanted to get the hell out of there fast. The only problem with that, was that I wasn't done with my list. Surprisingly the panties were only eight dollars, so I had about that much to spend on the other item.

After a somewhat long walk across the store, I found myself in the cosmetics department. Specifically I had ended up on the nail polish aisle. I looked at the light pinks, thinking maybe I could pull one over on my stepfather, and make the polish barely noticeable. However, his threat of bringing me back to exchange stuff made me rethink that notion. If I had to wear it the rest of the summer, I might as well have some fun with it. I decided to get a few shades.

The first one I chose was the lightest pink they had, almost a match to natural, in hopes he would let me get away with it. Then I picked out a bright hot pink, almost neon, thinking he'd make me come back and get it anyway. I looked in the bargain bin and picked out two shades of Bon Bons, one in an in between shade of pink of the two I had, and another in a light lavender. For some reason I thought I may want to mix it up some.

When I got to the checkout line, I was so pissed thinking about my stepfather, that I became determined to spend the entire twenty dollars. I picked up some bubble gum at the counter, which brought my total to within ten cents of my goal. The gum inadvertently would start me down a long habitual path of obsessive chewing, but for the time being it satisfied me to spend all of his money.

Without much fuss, and with no second guesses from the cashier, I paid for everything and took off for the exit. I dropped the dime of change I got in some sort of charity box, and continued out into the parking lot. My stepfather and brother were still in the hardware store, so I went to the car and waited by it. For several minutes I stood by the car, under the hot summer sun. He had locked the doors, so I couldn't even get in. I made the best out of the situation and pulled out a piece of gum to chew on while I waited.

Eventually the two of them came out of the hardware store. They walked over to the car, and without a word my stepfather got inside. He unlocked Justin's door, and Justin unlocked my door and let me in. I got in, put my bag in the seat next to me, and buckled up. We sat for a moment after my stepfather started the car, to let the air kick in a bit. Justin was completely silent, and it was my stepfather who broke the silence first.

"Did you bring me back change?"

"I didn't have any," I said. "It was all pretty expensive."

"You went in for two things," he said in disbelief. "How'd you spend a twenty?" He turned to look at me.

"Well…" I said timidly. "My panties were almost ten." I was interrupted by my brother laughing at my last statement. "Shut up Justin!" I kicked at his seat.

My stepfather slapped the back of my brother's head. "You keep laughing at your brother, and you'll be getting your own." He turned back to me. "What about the rest?"

"I didn't know what kind of pink polish you wanted me to get," I said. "So I got a few shades…" I looked at him with a bit of sadness in my eyes. "I didn't want to go back."

"Well I'm still pissed you spent it all," he said, turning back around. "I'm glad you had enough to get yourself some damn gum."

"It was only fifty cents," I said, defending my purchase.

"Remember that when you want your allowance next week."

I sat back in a huff, and folded my arms across my chest. For the entire rest of the car ride home, I stared out the side window and didn't say a word. Justin and my stepfather talked about football, and how great Justin's practices were going. This met with my stepfather making a comment that maybe I should be a cheerleader. I ignored them after that, for the most part, but caught a confession from my brother about how he thought Kate was hot. In more ways than one, I feared what would happen when we got home. Not only that, but I feared what the rest of the summer would be like.