Bikini Beach: Mommy's Girl
By Ellie Dauber (c) 2001

Has Jill Nash figured out a way to use the magic of Bikini Beach for her own evil ends?

Bikini Beach: Mommy's Girl
By Ellie Dauber (c) 2001

"Alex, what are you doing downstairs?” Jill Nash stood in the living room doorway glaring at her sixteen-year old son.

Alex jumped, pulling his long legs off the top of the coffee table. "I'm just watching SPORTSBEAT, Mom. They're doing a feature on East Side's football team. Mr. Graham said we should watch it for English class.” Alex's high school team was the likely city champion for the third year in a row, and the whole school was justly proud.

"You watch too much TV. Go do your homework or something."

"But, Mom. This _is_ my homework. We're going to talk about it on Monday."

"Don't argue with me, Alex Nash. Go do your homework."

"But it's Friday night. Nobody does their --"

"You'll go now, or you can forget about leaving this house for the weekend."

Alex sighed and clicked off the set. His friend, Joe Cleary, had talked about taping the show on his VCR. Maybe Alex could watch it over there on Saturday. He got up and walked slowly towards his room. He was careful not to slam the bedroom door, no matter how much he wanted to. There was no sense giving his mother something else to scold him for.

He sat at his desk and stared at his German textbook for a minute. Then he leaned over and opened the bottom drawer. It was still there, hidden under a stack of old Dungeons and Dragons game books, the picture of his Dad that was taken only a few weeks before his parents had divorced. "If Mom ever found out that I still had this," he whispered to himself. His father was in the Army, currently stationed in Europe, so his mother had almost sole custody.

"Still had what?” Alex looked up in horror. His mother was standing at the door. She walked over as he frantically tried to hide the framed photo.

"Still had this old D&D stuff, Mom.” He took his hand away. The drawer seemed filled with game material.

"Nice try, Alex, but no sale.” She began rooting through the drawer. "What have you got in here? Drugs, condoms, some of those filthy magazines? Ahah!” She grabbed the frame and pulled it out. "This -- this is even worse. I told you that I didn't want anything of your father's in this house."

"Mom, that's mine. You have no right...."

"No right. You little bastard, I have every right.” She pulled the picture out of the frame. A moment later, she had a cigarette lighter in her hand. Alex was too startled to move. She lit the picture, watching the flames spread up from the bottom. When it was half gone, she dropped it into his wastebasket.

Alex ran over and tried to pull it out. Too late. Only a small corner was left. Alex looked down into the waste basket and tried very hard not to cry.

"I'm not entirely heartless," his mother said. "You can keep the ashes if you want them.” She laughed and walked out of the room. "We'll talk about this more in the morning."

* * * * *

It was almost 11 AM when Alex's mother knocked on his door, waking him. "Get dressed, you ungrateful little punk. We're going out. Oh, and bring a suit; we're going swimming."

Alex sat up slowly. He stretched and ran his fingers through his mop of brown hair, scratching his head as he did. "Swimming? Well, that was something new.” He got dressed, putting his swim suit on under his jeans. After he washed and brushed, he took a spare towel to wrap a pair of undershorts for after the swim.

* * * * *

Less than a half-hour later, his mother pulled the car into the parking lot of the Bikini Beach Water Park. Alex sat up and watched a number of young women, most of them in bikinis or very revealing one-piece swimsuits walk into the park. 'If this is Mom's idea of punishment,' he thought, trying to hide his grin, 'I'll have to misbehave more often.'

"Are you going to sit there all day like a bump on a log?” his mother asked. "I brought you here for a reason. Now get moving."

"Yes, ma'am.” He quickly got out of the car and followed his mother to the gate. He'd heard about this place. There were some weird stories about it. 'But I can live with this kind of weird,' he thought as he watched a very pretty girl about his own age walk into the park ahead of him. She was wearing a gold-colored top the size of two dollar coins and a matching thong bottom that wasn't much bigger. 'Yes, I can definitely live with this.'

A slightly heavyset older woman was sitting behind the gate. She reminded Alex a little of one of his great aunts. "I'm Mrs. Nash," his mother said. "I spoke to someone here this morning about... passes."

"Yes, yes you did, Mrs. Nash," the old woman said. She seemed to fumble under the counter for a bit, but then she pulled out two purple bits of paper. "And here they are. I believe you said that you were paying by credit card."

Jill handed the other woman her MasterCard. "It's a bit expensive, but it will be worth it."

"Oh, I'm sure that the result will be most satisfactory.” The old woman handed Jill the two pieces of paper and the credit card receipt. Jill signed and handed one of the two copies back to her.

"Thank you. The locker rooms are just through the gate. Please be sure to shower; it's a local health department regulation. Enjoy yourselves."

They separated to change clothes. Alex noticed that the men's locker room was smaller. "I guess with a name like 'Bikini Beach' most of the people who come here are girls."

Alex found an empty locker. He pulled off his shirt and hung it on one of the inside hooks. Next went his pants, his shoes and socks. The towel with the undershorts went on a small shelf at the top of the locker. He did a couple of muscleman poses in a mirror near the door. He was no strongman, but he exercised enough, riding his bike, pick-up ball games, the usual stuff, that there wasn't an ounce of extra fat on him. "Now to find that blonde in the thong," he said and walked towards the door.

Then he remembered about the shower. 'What the heck,' he thought. He turned it on and got in. It was nice, with a pulsing head that he wished the shower at home had. He closed his eyes to enjoy it, so he didn't notice the pink mist rising off the water.

He turned off the shower, not noticing that he now had to reach up slightly to do so. As he walked to the door, his entire body felt different, kind of off balance. The room seemed different, too, bigger somehow.

When he got near the door, he saw a young girl, no more than ten. Her hair was the same shade of brown as his, but in pigtails. She looked a lot like him, or like his cousin, Suzie, out in Wyoming. Yeah, Suzie was about that age. But who was this girl, and what was she doing in the men's lockers, especially only wearing the frilly bottom of a two-piece bathing suit?

"She's adorable," a voice said. "Even prettier than I expected."

Alex spun around. "Mom, what are you doing in here, and -- and how did you get so tall?” His mother was standing there next to the old woman. A pretty brunette, maybe in her twenties, stood a few feet away. They all looked so big.

Alex looked down at his own body. He seemed smaller, chunkier, now, like he still had some of his baby fat. And his green trunks were gone, replaced by -- no, it couldn't be. He looked at what he now realized was a mirror. But instead of himself, a sixteen-year old boy, he saw that pretty little girl.

"That's right, dear," his mother said. "You're a girl now. Your name is Alexandria, 'Lessa' for short. You've been such a handful since your father deserted us, maybe this will --"

Alex wanted to cry. "Daddy didn't desert us. He 'vorced you ‘cause you was acting so mean to us.” What was the matter with him? He not only sounded like a little girl, but he was talking like one. He still knew all the right words, but he couldn't say them. And he found that he was thinking of himself as being "Lessa," not Alex.

The old woman handed Mommy -- that was how Lessa thought of her now -- a top that matched her frilly bikini bottom. "We must get back to work now, Mrs. Nash. Saturday is our busiest day. Please put this on your daughter before you take her into the Park.” She turned and walked through the door with the young brunette.

Mommy put Lessa's arms through the straps and reached behind to tie the top in place. "Can you believe it," she whispered. "All that magic power, and they believed me when I told them that you were misbehaving and needed to be transformed into a little girl?"

"How long will I be little, Mommy?"

"Just for a while, dear. Now come along.” She took her new daughter's hand and opened the door. They walked down a path past a sign that said "Junior Lifeguard Academy.” Ahead of them, Lessa could see a group of girls gathered around a tall blonde in a Bikini Beach staff shirt. Some sort of class seemed to be ending. The blonde waved at the girls and walked down another path.

"You go over and play with those girls," Mommy said. "I'll come and get you when I'm ready to go home."

"But they're just kids," Lessa argued. "Please change me back. I'll behave. I promise I will."

"I can't. The spell lasts until a few hours after the Park closes.” She knelt down and looked Lessa in the eye, holding her head so the child couldn't look away. "Now, listen to me. You aren't Alex now. You're Lessa, and you will talk and act just like the nine-year old girl that you appear to be. You _have_ to act that way. It's part of the spell. Now scoot."

She stood up and started walking away. Lessa wanted to follow, but something -- something was calling to her from that pool where the girls were. She couldn't help herself. She turned and walked over.

* * * * *

By late afternoon, Lessa had made several friends. The five of them were playing a game of follow-the-leader crossing and re-crossing the shallow end of the pool on the backs of a row of heavy-duty plastic tortoises. It was Lessa's turn to lead, and she was crossing using steps she remembered from the Monty Python "Silly Walks" sketch. The other girls were laughing so hard at how she was walking that they were having trouble memorizing the steps for when it would be their turns.

"Lessa!” Her Mommy's voice startled her, and Lessa fell unto the water.

"You lose," one of the other girls, Mandy, said. "We don't have to copy you unless you get all the way across."

"That was my Mommy," Lessa said. "She scared me. I get to finish."

"No you don't, Lessa, dear," Mommy said. "We have to leave now. Say goodbye to your friends. Maybe we'll come back tomorrow, and you can finish the game."

"Tomorrow? I thought -- I mean, the spell.” Lessa looked at her Mommy in a panic. She expected to be her big brother, Alex, tomorrow.

"Maybe you thought wrong," Mommy said. "We'll talk about it later.” She reached out her hand, and Lessa took it without thinking. "Now let's go change."

As they neared the locker rooms, Lessa tried to walk over to the men's. "No, silly," Mommy said. "That's for icky boys. Your clothes are in here.” She kept a firm grasp on Lessa's hand, leading the youngster into the women's lockers.

Mommy suit was dry, so she just put on her summer dress over it. Lessa looked around. There were a few others, including that pretty girl in the thong bikini in the locker room. They were all undressed or nearly so, but Lessa just wasn't interested in watching. Mommy reached down and helped her untie her top. Then, almost without thinking Lessa wriggled out of the bikini bottom.

Mommy wrapped a towel around her and began to pat her dry. "Not interested in naked women any more are you, _Alex_," she whispered. "I guess you won't need those PENTHOUSE magazines that used to be hidden in that shelf in your closet."

Lessa realized that she hadn't been interested. They were girls just like her. Why should she look? Why? Because she was really a sixteen-year old guy who used to dream about getting inside a girls' locker room. Only, now she wasn't that boy. "How long will I be like this, Mommy? Please tell me."

"Don't worry," Mommy said with a smile. "It's not like you're going to be a little girl forever.” She took away the towel and handed Lessa a pair of yellow panties with pictures of the Powerpuff Girls on them. Now get dressed."

Lessa stepped into the panties and pulled them up to her waist. They were followed by a matching undershirt with frilled straps, rather than sleeves. Alex's jeans were now a pink skirt that she snapped shut at the waist. She recognized her shirt from a small stain on the side, but it was now also a pale pink, and now it had a sleepy, striped kitten on it instead of the East Side "Tigers" logo. After she put on the shirt, Lessa reached back and pulled out her pigtails from inside the shirt as if she'd had to do it. Her socks and sneakers were also pink.

They were out the gate and on the highway in minutes. "I'd love to take you dress shopping," Mommy said, "but I'm a little tired. We can do that tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But you said I wasn't going to be like this forever. You said that the spell ended a few hours after the Park closes."

"That's right. You won't be a little girl forever. You'll be a big girl eventually, then a wife, and a mother. The spell ends a few hours after the Park closes on the day that your pass expires. I bought you a _lifetime_ pass.” She laughed. "I told them that you were out of control, and the only way to keep Alex out of reform school -- or worse -- was to give him a second chance as Lessa. You should have seen how concerned that... Anya and her grandmother were. They were so happy to help.

"I'll -- I'll stop you. I'll tell them the truth. I'll tell Daddy."

"You can't, Lessa. Actually, you can, but it won't do you any good. Anya told me that even they can't reverse the spell once the shower transforms someone. They were stupid to set things up that way, but then, they were stupid to believe me, too."

"Daddy will believe me. He'll do something about this."

"Actually, dear, he won't believe you. The world changed when you took that shower. As far as your father -- or anybody else -- is concerned, Alex Nash wasn't born sixteen years ago. In fact, he was _never_ born. But Lessa Nash, well, she was born nine years ago. I get to watch you go through puberty again, watch you get cramps, grow breasts, the whole woman thing. In a few years, you may even get to like being a girl."

"No, no.” Lessa's eyes filled with tears, and she cried the rest of the way home. She jumped out of the car as soon as her Mommy parked in the driveway and ran inside. She didn't stop until she was in her room upstairs.

_Her_ room? There was no sign that it had even belonged to a teenage boy. The walls were pale blue now, with frilly yellow curtains on the windows and a matching spread on the bed. Sports gear was replaced with dolls or other feminine toys. The sports posters -- Mommy would never have let Alex hang pictures of girls on the walls -- were now pictures of ponies and sunsets and kittens. Worst of all, the dresser and the closet were filled with girls' clothes, even dresses.

Lessa threw herself onto the bed. She instinctively clutched at a stuffed purple giraffe, "Joffy" -- she somehow knew its name -- and she began crying again.

Her Mommy was in the hall outside. "If you decide you want some supper, just come downstairs. I'll make you a sandwich."

"Just go away," Lessa sobbed.

"All right, dear. I know little girls just need a good cry now and then. You just come down when you want."

Lessa lay there sobbing for a while before she drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

The room was dark, when a hand on her shoulder woke Lessa up. "Who?" she asked, turning over to see if it was Mommy.

"Shhh!” It was that girl, Anya, from the Park. "Come with me, please, Alex."

"Alex?” Lessa wanted to shout, but stopped herself at the last instant before she spoke. "Have you come to help me? Mommy said you couldn't."

"Mommies can be wrong sometimes. Take my hand please."

Lessa stood up and took Anya's hand. She felt a tingling sensation, and she was suddenly standing on the street about a block from her house. The old woman was standing a few feet away. "Just in time," the old woman said with a gentle smile. "Goodbye, Lessa."

Lessa felt a different sort of tingling. She felt her body growing. She felt stronger. A cloud seemed to be lifting from her mind. Then she felt something else, something sprouting back between her legs. She reached down. It was back! _Alex_ was back.

Alex looked down at his body. He seemed to be back to normal, but he was still wearing that skirt, the kitten blouse, the whole girly outfit. For some reason, they still fit. He reached up and touched his head. He still had pigtails. "What -- what about my clothes?"

"All in good time," Anya said.

Just then, a car turned the corner and pulled up near to where they were standing. A tall man with graying hair got out and walked over to them. He looked very closely at Alex, who wanted to hide, considering what he was wearing. "Alex, I'm Mr. Corry from Family Services. Is there a reason that you're, umm, dressed the way you are."

"His mother made him put on those clothes at my water park," the old woman said. "You didn't want to be dressed like this, did you Alex?"

"No -- no, ma'am, I sure didn't.” Alex wanted to say more, but the words just didn't want to come out. This time he didn't mind.

"I thought not; from what I'd been told.” He waved his hand, and a police car came around the corner and pulled up in front of Alex's house. An officer walked up and knocked at the door.

* * * * *

Jill Nash was watching television, when someone knocked at her door. She opened it to find a policeman. "Are you Mrs. Jill Nash, ma'am?"

"Yes, why, yes I am. Is there something I can help you with officer?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's about your child."

"Lessa? My little Lessa? It can't be. She's upstairs in bed."

"May I see, ma'am?"

The officer's tone worried Jill. "Yes, of course. Right this way.” She led him to the stairs.

"Can you describe your child, ma'am?"

"Of course. Lessa -- her full name is Alexandria Susan Nash -- is nine and a half, about four foot six, ninety pounds. She has blonde hair done up in pigtails. Her eyes are green. She was wearing a pink skirt and a matching shirt with a picture of... a kitten, oh, and pink sneakers and socks."

She opened Lessa's door and turned on the light. "She -- she's gone. My little girl is gone. Where could she -- how could she --?"

"I'm right here, Mom," Alex said. He, Mr. Corry, and the two women had quietly followed his mother and the cop to his room.

"No, you can't be Alex. You're my Lessa, my little girl.” Jill Nash was wide-eyed as she looked at her son. Then she looked at Anya and the old woman. "You saw her. She was a little girl."

"We saw her," the old woman said. "That's why I called my friend, Ronnie Harris, and then I called Family Services when she said we should. Shame on you, Mrs. Nash, making your _son_ live like a little girl."

The cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs and put them around Jill's wrists. "Jill Nash, you're under arrest for child abuse and endangerment. You have the right to remain silent....” He finished reciting Jill's rights and led her down the steps and out to the police car.

"Do you have any...boy's clothes," Mr. Corry asked.

"Maybe in the back of his closet," Anya suggested. Alex looked. He found a pile of clothes stuffed on a shelf and some underwear bunched up in a small basket underneath. He pulled out an East Side sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, along with male underwear, shoes, and socks. The women went outside while he changed into the more familiar, male clothing.

"What happens now?” he asked Mr. Corry. "Will Mom go to jail?"

"Your mother will probably spend some time in a good psychiatric facility. You can spend the night here, if you like. We'll contact your father in the morning."

"He's in Europe," Corry said. "In Brussels."

"So I understand. The Army has a whole system for dealing with family problems. I wouldn't be surprised if you're over there with him in a few days. You may even get to stay with him."

"Great.” He finished dressing. "I think I would like to stay here till Dad and I can get together. There's a guest room down the hall that's a bit more, well, a bit more my style."

"No problem," Mr. Corry said. "Oh, the ladies that called us wanted to talk to you before they left -- talk in private, that is. Do you mind?"

"Not after the way they helped me," Alex said.

"Okay," Mr. Corry said. "I'll let myself out. I'll be back about 10 AM, so we can firm up the details of this thing.” He smiled as if there was more that he knew, but didn't want to say. "You can come in now, ladies."

Anya and the old woman walked in. "Good night, Mr. Corry," Anya said as the man left. When she heard him walking down the steps, she gently closed the door behind her.

"I -- I don't know what happened," Alex said. "But whatever it was, thank you."

"Your mother thought that she could trick us," Anya said. "She was right about one thing, though. We couldn't have reversed the spell of a lifetime pass."

"That was why I didn't sell her one," the old women said. "I caught a bit of her thoughts as soon as she got out of her car. By the time you two were at the gate, I knew her entire, very nasty plan. I sold her a modified one-day pass. It looked like a lifetime pass, and when you changed back, your clothes and this room didn't."

"Will they always stay like this? I'd like to get some of my guy stuff back."

Anya smiled. "They'll stay like this long enough to be photographed and used to get your mother committed for the long rest she needs. Then they'll switch back, but slowly. They'll probably be back to normal by the time you and your dad come back for them this summer. In the meantime, a friend of ours is going to fix it so no crooks get interested in the place."

"How can I thank you?” Alex asked.

"You helped us as much as we helped you," Anya said. "Your mother showed us a flaw in our set-up."

"Yes," the old woman said. "I created Bikini Beach to protect women in a lot of different ways. Sometimes there are women that Bikini Beach might need to be protected from, women who'd abuse its magic to hurt someone else. It's something we always have to be watching out for."

"So we're even, then, ma'am?” Alex said.

The old woman smiled. "Call me 'Grandmother,' please. I like to feel close to the young people we help.” Alex nodded, and then he ran over and hugged her. "Well, after that, I'd say that you're even, Alex, but, Anya and I, well, we're a little odd."

The End