Blake is picked on by some bullies and rescued by some girls who invite him to join the Girls-Only Club.
Problem is you have to look like a girl to belong to the club.
As a result Blake discovers his true inner self....Pamela.

 

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CAUTION: Part 5 of the Girls-Only Club contains extremely explicit sexual scenes and some scenes of violence and is rated XX because of this content. If you are adverse to reading this type of material, even if it is brief, please skip reading this posting of Part 5 of the story arc entirely. You have been warned. ~Sephrena.

Image Credits: Title Picture purchased and licensed for use from

123rf.com - photo_16375217. Divider licensed for use in publishing from Photoshopgraphics.com ~Sephrena.

Acknowledgments: The Girl's Only Club was first written and posted chapter by chapter at alt.sex.stories.tg in the late 1990's. The author has long wanted to acknowledge a debt to Nostrumo who gave much pointed and useful criticisms of the chapters prior to release - saving the plot from many more bizarre excesses than it already has. His advice made this a much better story than it would have been. ~Pamela

Historical Note: This second edition of The Girl's Only Club clears up a vast number of typos, misspellings, bad punctuation, miss-named characters and so forth. Moreover, those already familiar with The Girl's Only Club will realize that some changes to the plot have been done with the most significant ones in the last chapter. In fact, the modifications are designed to make the outcome more consistent with my original plan for The Girl's Only Club than the somewhat abrupt and incomplete ending (particularly in regards to Joanna) that was originally posted. At the time, I had become convinced (wrongly) that no one was reading The Girl's Only Club, so I had ended it prematurely, and the Joanna subplot had become an unfortunate victim. This revision helps to remedy this at least in part. While an additional chapter concerned with the aftermath of Blake's transition to Pamela seems logical, it is also anti-climatic, and I prefer to let each reader imagine in their own way how things turn out for Pamela in the future. ~Pamela.

Historical Versions: Originally posted at Asstr.org in 1997 (Girls-Only Club 1 - 15), Nifty's Archive in April of 1998, Crystal's Storysite in 2002, and Fictionmania in 2011. ~Sephrena.

Legalities: Archiving and reposting of this story *unchanged* is permitted provided that: 1) You must have contacted the author, Pamela, and have asked permission first and received said permission to host this particular work. 2) No fee be charged, either directly or indirectly (this includes so-called "adult checks") or any form of barter or monetary transfers in order to access viewing this work *and* (3) PROVIDED that this disclaimer, all author notes, legalities and attribution to the original author are contained unchanged within the work. 4) The author of this work, Pamela, must be provided free account access at all times the work is hosted in order to modify or remove this work at her sole discretion.

This work is the copyrighted material of the respective author. ~Pamela

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Chapter 13
 
Later that afternoon, the assembled wedding party stood outside in the pleasant, fragrant air deciding who would go with whom to the church. Juergen announced that, in as much as he drove a two seat TR6 sports car, he had room for just one passenger, and would Pamela like to go with him? Blake was pleased at the attention and agreed, but not before the girls teased him about being Juergen's 'date.'

Out of earshot of Juergen the Girls-Only Club members whispered advice to Blake. "Don't let Juergen be the next man to get the better of you Pamela!" Karen said.

"Don't you worry, I won't let him touch me!" Blake said.

"Yeah right! Just don't let him park the car anywhere except at the church!"

"Karen, I've decided to not let anybody take advantage of me, and I mean it. Only when I'm in love will I let a boy touch me, and then he had better love me back!"

"C'mon girls you can trust Pamela with me!" Juergen called out, as if he was reading their minds. He led Blake away up the block to his car and held the door open for him and watched as Blake gracefully sat his bottom down on the seat and swung his legs inside and waited for Juergen to close the door. Juergen ran around to the driver's side and got in.

"I hope you won't mind the wind," he said.

"I don't know, I've never ridden in a sports car before. It may mess up my hair a bit, but I guess I can brush it out when we get to the church."

"That's what I like, a girl who's a good sport!."

Juergen started the engine and pulled the car out into the road following the other cars to the church. Blake sat quietly afraid to give Juergen any indication that they were on a date. After a few minutes, Juergen turned the radio on. As the sound came up, Blake heard an aria from an opera, then Juergen quickly changed the channel to a rock and roll station.

"Wasn't that classical music?" Blake asked.

"Yes, I guess it was."

"You can listen to it if you want to Juergen."

"Really? I was afraid that you would find me old fashioned."

Blake was amazed that Juergen would be self-conscious. "You don't have to pretend you're someone else for my benefit. Anyway, I like classical music also."

"You mean you don't mind my liking opera? That's fantastic. You can't imagine how much Brad and the other guys tease me about it."

Juergen switched the station back, and they rode on listening to the beautiful singing. Blake asked, ""What opera is playing?"

"It's Don Giovanni by Mozart."

Juergen talked on about different singers and operas he had heard. "I've never met a girl like you before Pamela. I mean one with whom I can feel natural. To be able to talk about music with someone and not be laughed at, is wonderful. I guess I'm getting carried away a bit. I've only known you for a couple of hours, but I guess I just want to say that you're special." Juergen blushed thinking about what he had said and became tongue tied and couldn't continue.

Blake sensing his embarrassment decided to soothe him. "Thank you for saying that Juergen. That's kind of you." He decided that he wouldn't say more, even though he was moved by what Juergen had said. He wanted to do what a real girl would do, and he was afraid to say too much. Better to let Juergen feel a little awkward then to completely reassure him.

They reached the church and Juergen parked the car at the end of the parking lot away from the other cars. "We have a few minutes before we have to join everyone," Juergen said. He looked over at Blake and said, "I think you're awfully pretty Pamela." Blake forced himself to keep looking straight ahead through the windshield. His heart was racing as he anticipated that Juergen was going to try something with him. It would be nice to kiss him, Blake thought, but vetoed the idea immediately. I must not give in to temptation.

Blake turned his head toward Juergen and said while smiling, "I think we had better go in." Juergen smiled back, and got out to open the door for Blake.
 

 
The rehearsal went smoothly. Blake and Juergen formed the fifth pair to walk down the aisle. Behind them were Amy and her escort, and then Mrs. O'Connor, Brad's parents and then the bride. Since Beth's father was deceased, an old and dear friend of the family, whom Beth and Kathy had always called "Uncle Frank," took over the duty of escorting Beth down the aisle.

As much as Blake enjoyed his walk down the aisle holding onto Juergen's forearm, it would be a thousand times more exciting when he got to do it wearing his bridesmaid dress. His excitement turned to a sudden overpowering panic, however, when he realized that the hundreds of guests filling the church would be watching his every step. He couldn't go through with it! He would have to tell Mrs. O'Connor to find someone else. He was about to run to her when he glanced at Juergen and their eyes met. He realized that Juergen would be with him every step of the way, and there was no reason to be afraid. After all Juergen would hold onto and comfort him if he should become faint with fear.

At the end of the aisle he had to walk up two small steps to the dais where he would join Penny and Karen on the right side of the bride and groom. He would be facing the entire congregation at that point and he again started to feel panicky. But Karen took his hand as soon as Juergen brought him up to his spot on the stage and he again felt soothed. "Promise me you'll hold my hand Saturday!" Blake whispered to Karen and she said, "of course I will Pam. Don't worry!"
 

 
Juergen wanted to sit next to Blake at the rehearsal dinner, but Blake said that the girls needed to sit together. "I'm sorry Juergen, but you'll still have some dances with me at the wedding!"

"I'll be happy to drive you home after the dinner."

"You can drive me back to Kathy's house. I have some things to do there before I can go home."

"I'll wait."

"Oh, no Juergen, it's really all right. My mom will come get me later."
 

 
The dinner was a lot of fun. Blake especially liked joking with the girls about the different attributes of their escorts. Blake kept secret some of his discoveries about Juergen, like his love of opera, since he didn't want to be the cause of the other boys finding out. It was nice having a small secret about a boy; it made for a bit of intimacy, a bond between them.

Blake sat silently during the ride back to Kathy's place, letting Juergen tell him about himself. When they arrived at their destination, Juergen parked the car a few houses up the block and they sat in the darkened car. Juergen took Blake's hand and held it. "I really like you Pamela."

"Thank you, Juergen."

"Would you mind if I kissed you good-bye?" While he said this he put his arm around Blake's shoulder and leaned toward him.

Not knowing what a girl should say in answer to such a question, Blake hesitated and said, "we barely know each other."

Juergen gently turned Blake's face toward his own, and Blake felt his hot breath as he moved his lips towards his. Blake smiled and turned his face away and looked down. "Juergen, I really do like you, but I don't think I'm ready for this yet. We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other better later on." Blake couldn't believe his courage in being able to say this. Inwardly, he felt ecstatic, like he finally was able to reach a level of self-confidence the same as the other club members. He knew that it would be nice to kiss Juergen but it would have to wait until the right time.

Juergen smiled at Blake and moved away. "I'm sorry, Pamela. I'm not that sort of guy, it's just that I've never met a girl like you before. Just to know that you like me is good enough." With that he got out of the car and walked around to Blake's side to escort him up the block to Kathy's house.
 

 
Mrs. O'Connor drove Blake back home after he had changed out of his clothes. His mom and dad were anxious to hear about his experience and asked him several questions about the rehearsal and dinner which he answered cheerfully. When he was done he went upstairs to take a shower. He felt giddy with excitement at the thought that there were just three more nights until the big day. "What a glorious wedding it will be," he said to himself. He imagined the girls together in their dresses, the photographer shooting their pictures, dancing with the boys and especially some time with Juergen so he could get to know him better.

Upon entering the bathroom, Blake was about to start the water running for his shower when his mother knocked on the door calling "I've got a clean towel for you."

"Just a minute," he answered, and wrapped his old towel around his waist and opened the door for his mom. She was holding a pile of freshly laundered towels which she proceeded to place on shelves in the bathroom.

"Mom, I can't wait for the wedding, it's going to be so much fun."

"I'm sure it is. I just love weddings myself. No matter how many times I've gone, I still weep when the bride says her vows."

"Have you ever been a bridesmaid?"

"Yes, a couple of times, when two of my best friends were getting married." Blake tried to imagine his mother as a young girl at the weddings. From the pictures he had seen of her as a youth, she must have been very beautiful. She had gained a little weight since then, but she was still a very attractive woman. Today she was wearing a simple yellow cotton house dress, one that he had seen her wear a hundred times before. Her large breasts reminded him of the D cup bras he had gathered up and folded from the laundry and which she must be wearing right now under her dress. He wondered what size her bras were back when she was a bridesmaid.

"Did you have to wear a special dress?"

"Yes. Each of my friends had picked out a whole color scheme for the bridesmaids and the flower girls."

"I wish I could have been at yours and dad's wedding," Blake said impulsively, and then laughed when he realized how ridiculous that sounded. His mom joined in the laughter, "I guess at least half of you was there! I mean the egg part." They laughed together at this while looking at each other in the large wall mirror.

After a minute, Blake could see his mother's smile begin to fade and then drop rapidly into a frown. Blake had the sense that something was wrong. Her face finally formed a bewildered expression he had never seen before.

"What's the matter mom?" Blake asked, his eyes raced around the room to see if he had accidentally left a bra or panties lying about. But he remembered that he had carefully tucked them away in his room before going to the bathroom.

His mother seemed to be starring at the side of his chest and he looked at himself in the mirror to see what she was seeing. He didn't notice anything unusual until his mother said in a very quiet voice, "you've been wearing a bra."

The words fell into Blake's ear like molten lead ingots. An intense hot feeling shot through his face and chest. The scene was unreal and he wasn't sure she had really said it, but the expression on her face reminded him of the awful sickening reality of her words.

"You were wearing a bra, weren't you? I don't understand." She was pointing now at his chest and he looked down and noticed the presence of a perfectly well defined red indentation where the bra he had been wearing all day had been pressed tightly against his skin. The marks were so clear, that one could see the pattern of lace on the elastic straps.

"Mom," he tried to say.

She looked up at him, and he saw her expression turning to sadness or anger and he had the impression that tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Where is the bra?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"I'm sorry mom. I didn't want you to know. Mom,.."

"Where is the bra?" she interrupted him.

"It's in my room." Blake was terrified of what she might say or do. "Look mom please let me explain."

"Where did you get it?"

"I bought it mom. Let me..."

"Where did you buy it?"

"At the mall. Mom, you've got to let me.." She wasn't listening to him and his voice trailed off.

"You were wearing a bra at the rehearsal? Did everyone know it?"

Blake's mind raced to decide whether he should lie or not. Once he started to lie he would have to tell a thousand lies. On the other hand, the truth could mean the end of the wedding for him, the end of his membership in the Girls-Only Club, the end of his friendships with Amy, Karen, Penny, Kathy and Janet. While he hesitated, his mom said, "I see, Blake, everyone knew."

Defeated, she sat down on the closed toilet seat and put her head in her hands. With tears in her voice she asked, "how did they know?"

"Mom, I'm so scared to tell you. Please don't feel bad."

"Blake, you have no idea how much this hurts. Just tell me."

"Mom, I was dressed as a girl at the rehearsal and the dinner. You see, I've become a girl, I guess." His words sounded phony and kind of silly.

His mother looked up at him with tears on her cheeks. "You've got other clothes? What else? I don't understand."

"Mom, I'm sorry, but I have a bunch of dresses and things. I like to wear them."

"What kind of horrible sickness has affected you?" she said with a controlled cold anger now rising up in her voice.

"Mom, I'm not sick, please don't.."

"Is it those girls you hang out with lately? Have they been dressing you as their little sissy?" her voice was like steel now.

"Mom, don't.."

"How did they twist you around so? I though you had so much pride."

"Mom, please don't talk about them like that. They didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do."

"Is that Mrs. O'Connor in on this?"

"Mom, she knows about it, but I wouldn't let her tell you about it. It's all my fault."

Her face suddenly sprang alive, and she said, "so you're not a groom at the wedding? You a bridesmaid?!?" She nearly yelled this out, and Blake wanted to beg her to be quiet, lest his dad or someone else hear the commotion. But she said, "your father must never know. You hear me Blake your father must never know."

"I know mom, I won't tell him."

"You're going to never do this again, Blake. I want you to give me your girls' clothes and I'll get rid of them. I want you to call up Mrs. O'Connor and tell her that you can't be in the wedding. If you don't, I'll have her in court and hopefully behind bars where she belongs."

Blake had never seen his mom filled with such anger. His fantasies that she would love and accept him as Pamela seemed like foolish dreams. The hurt and pain in him was so intense that he held his sides and bent over. He began to cry like he had never cried since he was a small baby. Hysterical, uncontrollable tears.

His mother watched him with an angry stare. His nose was running and he reached for a tissue to blow it. He forced out the words, "mommy, I never wanted to hurt you, but I am a girl."

She said nothing. He continued, "Please don't do anything to Mrs. O'Connor and the girls. They're the only friends I've ever had. I love them, mom."

"How can you love people who humiliated you? Who turned you into a little pervert?"

"I'm not a pervert, mom! I'm just a girl who happened to be born with a boy's body."

"Nonsense."

"Mom, for years and years I've wanted to be a girl, I mean I knew I was a girl. It's just that until I met the girls in the club, I hadn't been able to know it consciously. They helped me see that I already had the personality of a girl. It explained so much to me: why I could never really get along with boys, why I never really like to play sports, why I always loved pretty things."

"Don't you realize that they're laughing at you? How can you be so naive?"

The passion in her voice was so strong that Blake suddenly found himself thinking that she might be right. His mind raced back to the first meeting of the Girls-Only Club, and his initial feeling that it was all a joke. Maybe in their special session while he waited downstairs they plotted the whole thing as a game, as a fun activity of the club. After all, the girls were so pretty and popular and he had never spent any time with them before.

A crushing weight of depression sank onto his shoulders. The thought that the entire eighth grade girls were laughing at him was too much to bear. But then what about the adults who knew his secret and especially Mrs. O'Connor? There was no way he misjudged her. How could he have? "Mom, Mrs. O'Connor would never allow the girls to humiliate me!"

"Your Mrs. O'Connor is one very sick woman and I'm afraid that I'm going to have to give her a piece of my mind!"

"I beg you to leave her out of this!"

"Now come with me to your room and show me your bras."

Having no other choice, Blake reluctantly followed her to his bedroom, where he gave her the bra and panties he had been wearing that day. The shock on her face when he actually produced them from the back of his underwear drawer pained him even more. She held the clothes with obvious disgust.

"Where is everything else?"

"Up in the attic I have some more bras." He led her up the stairs to the chest in the attic where he had his collection of girls' clothes. She gasped with surprise at the assortment of clothes.

"Oh God, Blake. Look at these bras and panties. And girdles! Jesus, Blake! How can you be wearing girdles!"

"Mom, you wear girdles, and I wanted to feel closer to you by wearing them also."

The statement touched his mother and she shook her head in frustration. In a softer tone she said, "in a sick sort of way that is flattering, but girls' things are girls' things and boys' things are boys'. You are a boy and you'll always have to face up to that fact. There are many ways to be close to me without dressing like me! Where have I failed you that you can think such strange thoughts?"

She was talking to herself out loud and didn't listen to Blake's protestations.

"Look at this nightie. How could you wear such a frilly thing? Tomorrow after your father leaves for work, I'm going to get these clothes and put them out in the trash." Hearing this Blake began crying again, but his mother ignored him saying, "what about the dresses?"

"They're at Kathy's house."

"OK, wait here while I get the phone." His mom left to find the portable phone and was back in a minute. "Now, I'm going to call Mrs. O'Connor and cancel your participation in the wedding."

"Please don't call, mommy!" Blake sobbed, but it did no good.

Blake gave his mom Kathy's phone number and she dialed the phone while glowering at Blake. After exchanging a curt greeting with Mrs. O'Connor, Blake heard her say, "I've found out everything about Blake pretending to be a girl and I've decided that I won't try and have you arrested, on condition that you promise to never ever see Blake again, and most specifically to never let him have the girls clothes he left in your house or have any contact with the girls in the club."

Blake couldn't hear what Mrs. O'Connor was saying but a heated discussion ensued between the two women. Mrs. O'Connor was doing most of the talking until finally Blake's mom turned to him and said, "I've been persuaded by Mrs. O'Connor to meet with her now to discuss the situation. It's best that you come along with me, so get dressed and we'll leave. We're going to meet her for some tea at local coffee shop." Blake quickly put on his clothes and in a minute they were headed to the rendezvous.
 

 
Blake's mom and Mrs. O'Connor sat facing each other across the square table where the hostess had seated them. Mrs. O'Connor could see that Blake's eyes were puffy from his crying and she tried to give him whatever silent reassurance she could without raising the anger of his mom. The two women made a striking pair: both carried themselves with confidence matching the seriousness of the occasion.

"Look, I'm very glad that you agreed to come," Mrs. O'Connor started. "You're very lucky to have such a truly wonderful son like Blake." Blake's mom smirked at the reference to him as her "son." Mrs. O'Connor picked up on that but continued, "I know that you find that ridiculous coming from me in view of what you have found out about Blake wanting to be, or in fact, actually seeing himself as a girl. But in spite of anything else that might be said, I really do believe that about him. Since he has come into my life, I've been cheered everyday thinking about how much he has developed into the person he really believes he is. Now let me make it clear to you that at the start my first reaction to his being dressed as a girl was exactly the same as yours. In fact, you remember that time I called to say that Blake was staying for dinner?" Blake's mom nodded her head, "well, I originally was calling to tell you that I had found him wearing a dress in Kathy's room."

"Well why in heavens name didn't you stop the whole thing right then and there? It would have been so much more honorable than encouraging Blake's public humiliation and debasement."

Mrs. O'Connor glanced at Blake who was hanging onto every word of the conversation. "You know, a person's first impulse is not necessarily always the best. The girls in the club, in fact, had seen something in Blake which everyone else had missed, and that was that if you just took away his male appearance, then he was a girl, and I mean a truly effeminate, delicate girl. The truth of that hit me while I was about to tell you what I had discovered. In a flash I saw the little girl in Blake yearning to be born. If you could have seen the happiness in his face while wearing the dress - you know it's the hopelessly feminine bridesmaid dress that he was to wear to the wedding."

Blake's mom interrupted, "Bridesmaid dress! That's why you were asking me all those question before about weddings and my being a bridesmaid?"

"Mom, I was trying to get close to you pretending I was your daughter."

"But you're not my daughter, and I don't want you talking like that!" Looking up at Mrs. O'Connor, she continued, "Mrs. O'Connor, I don't know where this conversation is going. You claim to see a girl in my son. I'm sorry to contradict you, but I see a boy in my son. What's more, if I wasn't as nice a person as I am, I would take you to the police for the way you've acted on your perverted ideas about Blake." She was starting to get angry again and Blake's spirit began to sink.

"I understand that you're very upset about Blake," Mrs. O'Connor said as gently as possible, "but as hard as it is for you to understand right now, I also love and care about him, and my actions are born purely as a result of affection."

"Mrs. O'Connor, this sounds so sick to me. To even have to discuss whether or not he's a boy. And to say that it's an act of love to dress Blake as a little sissy, to train him how to wear bras and girdles, to publicly display him as a bridesmaid in a frilly pink dress. It's incredible. Let's go Blake!" she said and began to rise.

"Wait one more minute, please" Mrs. O'Connor said desperately as she put her hand on Blake's mom's arm and looked imploringly into her eyes. A tear had formed in Mrs. O'Connor's eye which touched Blake's mom in a strange way, so she let her self sit down again, but just on the edge of the chair, as if she were about to leave.

"You know, I've raised two daughters myself," Mrs. O'Connor said with a tearful sound in her voice, "and I think I know the behaviors and attitudes of young girls very well. Especially about those little impulses girls have which make them girls, I mean, makes them feminine and not masculine."

"Mrs. O'Connor, I've raise two girls myself, and two boys also!"

"Then you know very well indeed that girls interact differently among themselves than boys. They're more social, less competitive; often times they want to nurture babies and play with make-up and dress up in mommy's clothes. I've seen Kathy and Beth when they got their first period, their first nylons, their first heels. I remember how proud they were to wear their first bras and how they walked around for weeks making a point of thrusting out their chests to let the world know that they had become women! I bet that both of us can remember when we got our first bras and little did we know how big we were going to get!"

Mrs. O'Connor chuckled a little at the thought and Blake looking back and forth between the two women could see that his mom let out a tiny smile also.

"After all we're both D cups now and I for one had no idea where I would end up when they started growing!" Blake looked at Mrs. O'Connor's large chest and then at his mom's and wished he could be like them. He prayed that he would be able to confide that to his mom someday.

"I also remember when Kathy and Beth first got interested in boys and the fantasies they had about them. They made a point of wearing just the right dress or jeans each day, and learned how best to style their hair and put on make-up. When I think about all these things that Kathy and Beth went through, I have to say that I have seen them all in Blake, and he acted no differently than either of my daughters."

"But I've never seen him like that," Blake's mom interjected impatiently.

"I'm afraid to say that that isn't the case," Mrs. O'Connor said contradicting her.

"What in tarnation do you mean!" Blake's mom said sharply.

"Do you remember the day we met in the bra department at Lord and Taylor department store?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, there was a young lady there, of whom you said, and I think it's just about a direct quote: 'That's a very pretty bra you have on young lady. You look beautiful in it. How precious you are... it's so refreshing to meet a shy and modest girl. You have such a pretty young body and you look so good in that bra. I wish my younger daughter would only act as feminine as you!'"

"Well, I do remember meeting that very lovely young lady. I believe that Pamela was her name, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Pamela was the name we had given her." Blake's mom was puzzled as to her meaning. "Don't you see that that supposed young lady was Blake!!!!"

Blake's mom seemed to turn to stone as the full meaning of the words registered in her mind. She closed her eyes and then slowly slunk back fully into her seat like she'd been hit by a bullet and were dying. Her hand came up to hold her head and she rested an elbow on the table. Blake stared at her with eyes wide open and then glanced at Mrs. O'Connor whose eyes were now flooding with tears.

The waitress came and asked if they wanted more tea and Mrs. O'Connor said to pour everyone a new cup. Blake saw a tear drop roll out of his mom's eye and then heard her sniffle a bit. From deep inside her a very tired and hoarse voice said, "so, that was my little Blake." She turned to look at him, and her gaze was filled with astonishment and tears.

Taking a big chance, Blake reached across the table to touch his mom's hand and said, "mom, I'm Pamela and I so desperately want to be your daughter. Can we be mother and daughter?"

She didn't answer, and Blake continued, "looking back, mom, though I didn't really know it consciously, I guess I've wanted to be a girl for as long as I can remember. Do you remember when I was in kindergarten and the kids put on a show for the parents? The girls had to do the Can-Can and they wore beautiful pink crepe paper skirts, with dozens of layers? The boys had to do the Mexican hat dance in cowboy costumes. I remember being intensely jealous of the girls. I wanted to wear a skirt and dance with them, but I couldn't. The next best thing was I got to do was to play after school with one of the girls in my class, I think her name was Betty, and she let me try on the skirt one day in her bedroom. I remember jumping around and pretending that I could do the Can-Can. Later on, after I saw the movie "The Parent Trap" I fell in love with Hayley Mills and I wanted to be her. I remember feeling embarrassed by that. I mean my friends were fantasizing about being baseball stars, while all I wanted to be was her."

"I'll bet millions of young girls wanted to be her," Mrs. O'Connor said. Wearily, Blake's mom said, "Mrs. O'Connor, I'm sorry for the mean things I said. You understand don't you?"

"Of course, I do."

"Blake, you'll have to give me time to adjust, you know this is such a shock to me. But, if nothing else, a mother always wants her children to be happy, and I'm willing to do what I can for you. If becoming a girl will make you feel natural and complete, then I guess I'll learn to love you like that, as my daughter. Of course, it's not just me that counts here, and you should be warned that your father will not take this like me. He will rage and he will storm and eventually, when he sees there is no hope, he'll probably turn his back to you. Your father might very well never love you again."

Both happy and sad at his mother's conciliatory speech, Blake decided to only concentrate on the positive. He stood up and gave her a tearful hug of joy. "Mom, I've never been so happy about anything in my life. I know this is hard for you but I'll make you sure that you did the right thing." He sat down again and took the hand of each of the ladies and held them. Mrs. O'Connor then took the hand of Blake's mom and the three of them had a small communion together, thankful that everything had worked out OK.

The waitress came with the tea and the special moment ended. "Mom, I wish you could see me in my bridesmaid dress," Blake said.

"Of course the dress is yours to keep after the wedding" Mrs. O'Connor said, "you'll be able to model it for her any time."

"I'm not sure I can handle it right now, Blake. Seeing you in dresses will be a hard adjustment. You've given me the terrible duty of letting your father know about it. I can't let you tell him, since he'll need some time to get over his anger before he sees you. Anyway, have you thought about your future as a woman? I mean what about your penis, honey? Will you get an operation?"

"I don't know, mom. I've thought a lot about it, like if I should live as a true girl and maybe marry a man, or else live without surgery and marry a woman, if I could find a woman to love me like that. The one thing I do know for sure is that I want to have babies. I really want to be a mom one day."

"How could you ever become a mom? Do you mean adopt a baby?"

"Well that's possible. I was also thinking that if I married a woman she could have the baby and then I could be the mother."

"How sad, Blake, that you'll never have a normal life. This sounds so complicated and unrealistic. A woman like you describe would be hard to find. And if you loved a man, everyone would consider you gay and it's hard to imagine you could get a baby to adopt."

"It's still better than me trying to be a man when I'm not. It's like even right now I feel naked without a bra on. And I'm wearing boys' underwear for the first time in weeks and it seems so wrong to me. I really like knowing I have something pretty on, something lacy and soft. Then I feel OK."

"Blake, you sound like a much younger girl than you are chronologically. I hope that you'll be able to mature emotionally and become a true woman. For example, while women do enjoy feeling pretty, and they like pretty clothes, it's not a major obsession with them. They aren't always thinking about their bras, and I'm sorry to say, if a woman was as flat as you, she might very well not bother with a bra, and she wouldn't even miss it in the slightest!"

"But lots of woman who have small breasts wear padded bras, or even have surgery to get bigger. That's how I feel mom."

"I suppose so. How big a bust do you want?"

"Well, so far the girls have given me some A cup breasts, and while I like them a lot, I really do want to have at least a B cup size or maybe even a C cup, you know like Janice. I mean I want them to be real breasts. I would love to have surgery, I guess. "

They chatted some more until Blake excused himself to go to the restroom. When he was gone, his mother said, "well, I guess this will eventually solve one of the nagging problems in our family."

"What do you mean?"

"Blake's sister Ann has become quite the body builder. She gave us a display of strength the other day that was staggering. She can lift over a hundred pounds."

"Incredible!"

"Yes, but poor Blake has become an object of ridicule since he can't keep up with her. Imagine being a boy and having your younger sister be stronger than you! But now I can see what has happened. By some odd twist of fate, Ann really wants to be a man while Blake wants to be a girl. I don't see how this happened since Barry and Janice turned out so perfectly!"

After sipping some tea she continued, "once Ann finds out that Blake wants to be a girl, and that I tolerate it, she's going to want to be treated like a boy! Her father already treats her like one and I doubt that he's the slightest bit upset about it!"

"That's a double standard."

"You're right, Mrs. O'Connor. You think that it would be OK for boys who want to be girls to be allowed to be girls. The more I think about it the more I can see how feminine Blake has been. He likes helping out with the dishes and chatting with me and his sister Janice. He even volunteered to wash Janice's lingerie!"

"I'm sorry you've missed some of the important milestones in her growing up. You don't mind my referring to Blake as a 'her'?"

"It seems strange but I guess it's necessary. So I take it she wants to be called Pamela?"

"Yes, somehow the girls in the club decided on that name. Blake seemed to them to be a Pamela, whatever that means."

"You took her shopping for a complete wardrobe?"

"Yes. I'm sorry that we lied to you, but we obviously couldn't tell you what was going on. We spent a delightful day at the mall and then at a lingerie shop, picking out clothes."

"I saw that you got her many girdles. Isn't that unusual for such a young girl?"

"Pamela insisted. She really loves them. She and the other girls had an hysterical time trying them on. You should have seen them. You know she likes them because you wear them."

"God knows that I wish I didn't have to!" and the two women laughed. "I should pay you for the clothes you bought."

"Absolutely not! It was my treat."

"Is there anything else she really needs?"

"You can ask her, but I think she needs some everyday kind of pantyhose, so she doesn't have to wear the expensive department store kind every day."

Blake came back and sat down hearing the last part of the sentence. "Who are you talking about?"

"About you," his mother said. "If you're going to be one of my daughters, then I'm going to have to make sure you have everything a young lady needs to have. Mrs. O'Connor says that you need some more pantyhose. What else? Do you have enough panties and bras? And what about slips?"

"Gosh, mom, I think I have enough of those, at least as much as Janice does. There are a million other things I would love to have though! Like I have only the one nightie you saw and no pajamas. I don't have any slippers and I really only have a few dresses and skirts."

"Now you really are sounding like a girl," Mrs. O'Connor said. "No matter how many skirts or dresses Kathy has, she always has her eyes on another one."

"Janice is the same way, though I've never had any luck getting Ann to wear a dress."

"Mom, I also haven't any jewelry. I really want a necklace and a bracelet to wear. Oh, and can I get my ears pierced!"

"I suppose you can, but all this will have to wait until your dad is told, and I can't promise you when I'll summon up the courage to do that. It had better wait until after the wedding, since I'm sure he'll forbid you to go. In fact, I suppose we need to plan when you'll make the transition to Pamela full time. Certainly, since there is only a couple of weeks of school left, it would be best for you to reappear next fall as Pamela, so perhaps at the start of the summer would be a good time? What do you think?"

"That would be wonderful," Blake said hesitatingly, while inwardly feeling a sudden stab of fear at making such a complete change in his life.

"What's the matter?" his mom asked.

"I guess the thought of actually being able to be Pamela all the time is a bit scary."

"There would be no turning back," his mom said.

"I know, mom, but I know deep in my heart that it's the best thing for me."

"Well, it'll certainly be a shocking time for the neighbors, for the kids at schools, for everyone. All of a sudden, we'll have to completely change the decor of your room. Besides getting rid of your boy clothes, we'll have to fill the room and dresser with your girl things. A drawer for your panties, bras and stockings, and the closet filled with your dresses, skirts and blouses. You'll be able to get some jewelry boxes and you can keep your perfumes on the dresser top, like other girls do. When our relatives and friends come to visit, there you'll be Pamela, just another one of the girls in the family. Of course, there are still those serious issues about your surgery and hormones and so forth. I guess we'll have to have a talk with Dr. Peterson, or probably actually Dr. Wentworth, and maybe get our lawyer involved so the school will let you enroll. You might need some sort of official change in your birth certificate. Just think of the whole town seeing you as Pamela! The first time you show up at the dinner table in a dress, I dread to think of your poor father's expression."

"I'll just try and be the nicest girl a daddy ever had and that'll make him love me again."

"I wish it were so simple."

"I really don't want to hurt dad. I hope you understand that."

"Of course, I know you don't want to."

"One last thing I want, mom, something which I've wanted for a very long time is to take ballet lessons."

"Slow down, honey, we'll have plenty of time to do this all later."

"You see how Pamela is blossoming?," Mrs. O'Connor said.

"I suppose you're right, Mrs. O'Connor. Pamela is here to stay and I think it will be for the best."
 
 
Chapter 14
 
The next morning Blake had put on his panties and was just in the process of lining up his bra to put around his waist, when he heard a light tapping on his door. "Who is it?" he called out apprehensively.

"It's me," he heard his mother's voice.

"I'm getting dressed."

"It's OK, honey I want to see what you're wearing."

Blake opened the door and she came in. "Here, let me help you with that," she said, taking the bra from his hand.

"I can do it mom."

"I know you can, but I guess I just want some opportunities to get to know you better as a girl. I remember teaching Janice how to wear bras like it was almost yesterday, and, well, I think it might help my adjustment to you becoming my daughter if we share some experiences like that."

"OK, mom, I think that would be great."

"I remember that when Janice and Ann were small they often watched me get dressed. They knew what my breasts looked like. They were fascinated how I could fit these big things inside my bra," she indicated her large prominent bust. "Janice was a little late in developing - you would never know it now! - and she used to lift up her tops to show me her chest. And she would say, "Look mommy, do I need a bra now? Please, please, can I get a bra?" and I would have to say, 'not just yet Janice but I'm sure in no time you'll be ready.'"

"That's really neat, mom, I wish we had those kinds of memories!"

"Janice and I sometimes played a little game, 'pick me a panty' I think we called it. I would sit on the end of the bed, and I would cover my eyes and she would go in my dresser drawer and pick out a pair of panties for me to wear. I had to try and guess the color. She always tried to make it as difficult as possible - usually going way down the pile to the bottom - to the panties I didn't wear too often. They were the lacy ones that I only felt right about wearing on special evenings."

"It sounds like you and Janice had a lot of fun. I remember hearing the two of you laughing together in your bedroom, and I always wondered what was going on."

"When you very little, Janice and I let you wander about while we played 'pick me a panty'. You were too young to know what was going on. Sometimes when I wasn't looking Janice would put one of my panties over your head like a chef's hat or something. The two of you used to get hysterical laughing at the joke. And you would run around saying in baby talk something like 'panty hat panty hat'."

Blake had a sudden sense of remembrance, a dim hazy image of his mother's panty drawer and looking at the panties with Janice. "Did Ann ever play it?"

"One time. She hated fancy panties. The second time we tried to do it, she wanted to me to give her one of your fathers jockey shorts to wear so we never did it again."

Blake and his mom laughed together at this. "I guess I'm too old to play that with you now," Blake said.

"It would be silly for a girl your age, Pamela! But maybe one day after you've officially become a girl, we could play something like that. Just to get to know each other better."

"That would be fun, mom, but seeing each other naked, isn't that a problem?"

"You mean seeing your mother naked? I should hope that it wouldn't be once you're Pamela!"

"You're right mom. I'm sorry. There are so many little things about changing to Pamela that I haven't become fully aware of. Though I absolutely can't wait for it to happen, I so much want to be in dresses all the time."

His mother smiled at him and held up the bra she was holding, "Now put out your arms and I'll slip the bra on you."

Blake held his hands out and after his mom had put them through the bra straps she turned Blake around so she could attach the back hooks.

"That seems to be a good fit," she said.

"It's very comfortable, mom."

"Those are very pretty panties you have on. Are you going to wear pantyhose too?"

"Yes mom, underneath my jeans. Do you think it's silly?"

"A little, I guess. You don't have any knee-high stockings?"

"No."

"Well, I'll get you some today. They're what a girl might normally wear under her jeans, unless she were wearing sneakers."

"Yes mom. But I think I'll probably only wear dresses and skirts next year, I don't think I'm the kind of girl who wants to wear jeans."

"Sometime in the summer I'll take you shopping for some fall dresses and skirts, to get you ready for school."

"Thanks, mom."

"I want to tell you that I'll love you just as much when you become Pamela as I do know. Last night was a shock to me but I'm so glad that Mrs. O'Connor had the strength to fight for you and to convince me of your femininity. I only hope I can do as well with your dad."

Blake went up to her and embraced her. "I love you so much, mom."

"In some ways you're the daughter I've always wanted. Janice was certainly girlish at your age, but she was also ambitious about her Navy career and she would rather wear jeans than skirts most of the time. Ann, of course doesn't even own a skirt, and I could never get her into one if I tried. When I was your age I was sort of like you. I had my dolls and a closet full of pretty dresses and I dreamed about having some babies. It wasn't that I didn't want a career also, but I knew in my heart that having a family was a very high priority with me and making a safe and pretty world for my kids meant a lot. I used to have a magnificent doll house that I played with all the time. It's somewhere in the attic. Neither Janice or Ann ever took to playing with it."

"I would love to play with it mom! It would be so fantastic! I love miniatures."

"There's one other thing I want to talk to you about."

"What's that?"

"It's just, I don't think you ought to let your sisters or brother or any of our relatives know about your changeover to a girl, at least until after I break the news to your dad. OK?

"I won't mom," Blake said. Technically speaking he wasn't lying but he felt a pang of guilt not telling her about Janice, which he couldn't do since he didn't want to get her into trouble for keeping secrets from his mom. Of course Blake definitely would not tell his mom about how Ann found out.

Blake's mom smiled at him and left the room saying, "I'll fix your breakfast. See you downstairs in a minute."
 

 
Blake sat down to a bowl of cereal his mom had prepared for him. He was eating in silence when Ann came in the dining room. "Get me my breakfast, I want an English muffin with butter," she ordered him.

Realizing that she was in a terrible mood, Blake immediately got up to fetch her breakfast. "It'll take me just a second."

"Hurry."

In the kitchen he went to get a muffin to put in the toaster hoping his mother wouldn't find it strange. "You're really hungry today," she said.

"I'm getting it for Ann."

"Why are you doing that?"

"It's nothing mom. Ann likes me to get her breakfast. I don't mind doing it, really."

"Blake, this is silly. She's perfectly capable of getting her own breakfast. You tell her to do it herself."

"Mom, it's best if I just get it."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"Tell me the truth."

"She might hurt me mom. I'm afraid she'll get mad and punch me or something."

Hearing this, his mom got angry and walked out to the dining room after telling Blake to follow him. "Ann what's this I hear about you threatening to hurt Blake if he doesn't get your breakfast for you?"

Ann scowled at Blake who tried to look as if it wasn't his fault.

"Blake's lying, mom. I just asked him to get it and he doesn't mind. Anyway he likes being my servant."

"Don't you ever refer to your brother as a servant, young lady. Just because you can beat him up doesn't give you the right to enslave him!"

"But mom..."

"Ann, I won't hear of it. Don't take advantage of people who might be weaker than you or less able to defend themselves. Being a bully is not acceptable in our family."

"But being a sissy is?"

"Ann, if you don't apologize to Blake this instant, you'll be grounded this afternoon."

"Mom!"

"Say it!"

"I'm sorry, Blake," Ann said with a clearly phony voice.

"That's better. Now I don't want to hear of any more problems between the two of you," his mom said as she went back to the kitchen.

Ann got up to get her muffin and Blake ate as fast as possible so he'd be gone before she got back. Unfortunately, he was just about to leave when she came in.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said venomously.

"I have to get ready for school."

"Sit down you little perverted tattle tale." Blake sat down. "Now I want to go over once again some of the rules of our relationship which you don't seem to have learnt yet."

"Ann, I swear I didn't tell mom."

"Shut up. Now apologize."

"I'm sorry Ann."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry I spoke out of turn with you. And I'm sorry that you got in trouble with mom. I promise I'll never do that again."

"What will happen to you if you do?"

"You'll beat me up and make me cry."

"And what else?"

"You'll tell dad about... you know what."

"About what?"

"You'll tell dad that I wear bras and panties."

"What bra are you wearing today?"

"It's my 'almost a B' bra."

Ann laughed, "you're 'almost a B' bra. How cute Blake. Show it to me."

Blake pulled up the front of his shirt revealing the bra. "Come closer." Blake walked around the table and stood next to her. She reached underneath the bra cups and grabbed his nipples, one in each hand. "Now girls really like their nipples pinched, don't they?"

"Yes, Ann."

"Do you like your nipples pinched?"

"Yes, Ann."

"Good, cause that's what I'm going to do, and you better not let mom hear." With that she pinched his nipples as hard as she could and Blake felt a huge surge of pain in his chest. Just when he was about to scream in agony she let go.

"Feel good?"

Holding back tears, Blake said, "no, Ann, it hurt."

"I thought you told me that you like your nipples pinched, or didn't I hear correctly."

"I did say it, but you pinched them too hard. You've got to be gentle with a girl's nipples."

"Be gentle with the fairy's nipples! Are you telling me what to do?"

"No, Ann, I'm sorry. Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

"You insolent little twerp! How dare you talk to me like that!"

"I'm sorry Ann, but I don't mean to be rude to you. I just feel like you hate me and are trying to hurt me. I'm scared of you!"

"Blake, there's only one reason I hate you and that's cause you have a fucking penis that should have been mine."

"But how did I ever take it from you?"

"I don't care if you didn't do it, it's just that as long as you've got it and you act like a little sissy girl, it's just a waste."

"But I wish I didn't have it, Ann. I want to be your sister, and if I could, I'd always try and be good to you. I mean if you want to be my brother, that's OK I would be happy to look upon you as my brother."

"I want your penis, Blake."

"You can have it!" Blake said emotionally.

"Someday, I'll get it," Ann said ominously "Now get the fuck away from me."

"Yes, Ann," Blake said as he left the dining room as fast as he could.
 

 
After school that day, Blake went home with Kathy to tell Mrs. O'Connor that everything was going great with his mom. She wasn't home, however, and Blake decided that he would like to get dressed up and maybe take a walk through the town. From among his clothes he put on a wide pink peasant skirt and a sleeveless white blouse. He applied some make up and put on his wig. He styled it until it looked good in the mirror, but he decided to nonetheless ask Kathy if it was okay. He knocked on her door and she called for him to enter. She was sitting at her desk doing homework.

"What can I do for you Pam," she said. When she looked at him, she exclaimed excitedly, "you've styled your own hair! It looks really nice."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do Pam, I would never lie to you!"

Blake thought that he might have offended her and said, "I'm sorry Kathy, it's just that I sometimes wonder if I'm really pretty or not. You might say I'm pretty only because you don't want to hurt my feelings. When my mom was angry with me yesterday she accused you girls of playing a trick on me, but of course she doesn't think that way now. But to be honest Kathy, and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but I did sort of begin to doubt it. I mean, here I was a boy just a few weeks ago and now I'm about to be a girl all the time. It's happened so fast and I can't help but be a little afraid. Do you know what I mean?"

Kathy nodded sympathetically, "I do Pam, and I think that maybe the rest of us club members have been a bit guilty of taking you for granted as being a girl now. It's a lot more of a struggle than we realize, I guess."

"One thing which I want to know truthfully," Blake said, summoning up his courage, "is would you girls ever have found me suitable as a boy friend, I mean when I was Blake?"

Kathy stared at him intently and Blake couldn't imagine what she was thinking. He was scared that she would be offended or even worse think that his becoming a girl was just an act. "Of course I'm absolutely one hundred percent happy that I'm Pamela now, but I can't help but be curious. You know it never came up in our club meetings, at the start."

"Pamela, it's OK to ask these things, but maybe the answers will make you sad. Speaking for myself, but it's probably also true of the others, I think I saw you as being a very nice friend but not a boy friend. How can I put it, Pam? You weren't masculine enough as Blake. You were too delicate, too pretty, you didn't have that kind of masculine strength that I'm attracted to sexually. But those feminine qualities you have are things that make you such a beautiful girl friend of mine."

"But what about my penis. Isn't that sexual?"

"Is it sexual for you Pamela? You never acted like you wanted us to react sexually to your penis. For me it's never seemed sexual. Your penis, or clitoris, seems kind of feminine to me, if that's possible. You're so lovely in your dresses and so sweet, you're more like a little sister to me. The boy in you is not there. In our private club meeting about whether we should let you join or not we talked about this very issue because we were concerned that maybe as you grew older some masculine traits might start to come out. But it just seemed impossible to us. We felt that your body had this sort of desperate need for breasts, like it was incomplete the way it was. We were so happy you agreed with us."

Blake thought about what Kathy was saying and then said, "then no woman would ever be interested in me, to marry me, so I could have children."

"Well no typical woman who wants a real man, but I would think that maybe women that prefer being in charge of their boy friends by taking the man's role, they might want him to have a penis put to also be feminine. I bet there are a lot of girls out there like that. One of them could make you her bride and give you a baby. The bottom line is that most girls prefer real men and I think that as Pamela you feel the same way. I mean would you want to date a boy who was effeminate and cross dressed?"

"I guess not."

"But you'd still like them as girl friends."

Blake thought about Juergen and Barry and tried to imagine them crossdressing. It was a silly thought; they were so masculine, there was no way they would look anything but ridiculous as a girl. "I guess it's good what your saying Kathy. I mean if you could actually think of me as being a boy, then I would not have ever fit in the Girls-Only-Club. I wouldn't want any boys who just dressed up as a girl to join. I would only feel OK about boys who were so girlish that they didn't seem to be boys at all."

"Exactly our feelings about you, Pam!"

"I think I'm going to go for a walk outside. It's such a beautiful day. Do you want to come along?"

"I'm sorry Pam, I've got a report due tomorrow which I've got to get done. But hopefully another day soon."
 

 
Blake set out on an aimless path walking through different neighborhoods until he came to one of the large avenues. He walked along it lost in his thoughts when out of the corner of his eye he sensed that a car was following him. He turned enough to see that it was a bright red convertible and the top was down. A voice from the car called out to him, "hey wait up Pamela!"

Blake stopped and turned and saw that it was Randy. Blake kept on walking slowly and Randy sped up so that he was ahead of him. "Wait up, Pamela!"

Blake was scared and walked faster and Randy yelled out angrily, "you better stop."

Blake stopped and turned toward the car. Randy parked it and got out and walked over to him. "That's better Pamela. I almost got the feeling that you weren't happy to see me."

"What do you want Randy?" Blake said trembling.

"I just wanted to say hi to you, that's all."

"Well hi Randy, I've got to go."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm visiting a friend."

"Which friend?"

Thinking quickly, Blake made up a name. "Carly."

"Where does she live?"

"Right down there," Blake said pointing down a side street. It was a wealthy neighborhood with large homes separated by sizable distances. "I'll take you there."

"No thank you Randy, it's just a short distance."

"I'll follow you to make sure you're OK."

"There's no need."

Randy grabbed Blake's hand and spun him around hard. "Look here Pamela, you're period has got to be over by now and my cock is ready for you."

"Randy, don't talk to me like that."

"Aren't we being uppity? One day you're a slut and the next you act like you're pure."

"I did what I did because of Joyce."

"Why?"

"It was an initiation into her club."

"Sucking off four guys and getting your ass fucked? No decent girl would ever do that!"

Blake was hurt and tears welled up in his eyes. "That wasn't the real me, Randy. I'm not that kind of girl."

"You did a pretty convincing act that you love a good cock. And you'll never find a bigger one than mine."

Blake didn't have to be reminded of the mammoth organ lurking in Randy's pants. He said, "size isn't everything," and realized that sounded pretty lame in reference to Randy.

"It was the other night!"

"I'm sorry Randy, I've got to go."

"It's too bad, Pamela. I always get the girls I want, and I want to see what your pussy is like wrapped around my cock." He grabbed Blake's arm with a vise-like grip and led him forcibly to the car.

"Now get in and we'll go back to the forest where we were the other night."

Blake struggled futilely against Randy, but as luck would have it, two well dressed women came by on the sidewalk staring at them, and Randy let go of Blake's arm. Immediately, Blake ran off behind the women and kept walking. He didn't look back to see Randy's angry face, but he heard him get in the car and start the engine. He knew that Randy was following behind him waiting for his chance. The women walked up the block of large homes with Blake ten paces behind them. They turned into a side street and went up a walk way to one of the houses leaving Blake on the block alone. Terrified, he walked swiftly and then ran as fast as he could in his heels and holding his skirt down. His efforts were not doing any good. In a minute he would be out of breath and Randy would get him for sure.

Blake came to an intersection and realized that the street name was familiar though he couldn't remember where he had heard it before. Looking up the road he saw a large estate with a Victorian manor house on it and remembered that it belonged to the two nice ladies he had met the day he went bra shopping at the mall.

What were their names?

Molly was one of them and he couldn't remember the other. Looking behind himself, Blake saw that Randy had parked the car and was running to catch up to him. Blake turned up the driveway of the large estate and ran to the front door and rang the bell. Intimidated by the grandeur of the place, Randy stopped half way up the driveway watching to see what was happening.

After what seemed an eternity, the door opened and Blake was face to face with Molly. "Yes?" she asked, what can I do for you?"

"Don't you remember me Molly? I met you at Lord and Taylor's. I was buying some bras and panties and we met in the ladies room. I helped you put you're earring on?"

"Why yes of course, I remember now. You're name was, Paula, Penny,..."

"Pamela."

"Yes Pamela. Why how good of you to come by. Please come in."

Blake entered the house. Looking backwards he saw Randy walking back to his car.
 

 
"Look who's here Grace," Molly said as she escorted Blake to the enormous living room to present him to her sister. Also present was a younger woman dressed in skin tight black leather pants and a white blouse with wide lapels.

"Grace, do you remember Pamela? You know from the other day when we were shopping? She helped me put my earring on in the ladies room."

"Yes, yes of course I do. My what a pleasant surprise! We're just sitting down to tea, will you be able to join us?"

"Thank you, ma'am, that's kind of you, I would love to," Blake said shyly. "I'm sorry for just dropping in, I hope it isn't rude of me."

"Tush, tush, Pamela, don't even think that. It's such a treat for us to see you again. And we can introduce you to our grand niece, Joanna."

Joanna was the woman in leather pants. She stood up and extended her had toward Blake who shook it. She was strikingly beautiful, with flashing dark eyes, straight, dark black hair. On her lips she had dark red lipstick. Blake noticed a twinge of amusement in her expression. "Pleased to meet you Pamela."

"Thank you," Blake said, "I'm pleased to meet you too."

A servant came in carrying a tea tray who placed it on a coffee table in front of Joanna. Molly asked the man to bring another cup and saucer.

Blake sat down and blushed sensing that all eyes were upon him.

"So what brings you over here?" Molly said.

"I happened to be passing by on a walk, enjoying the flowers and I noticed that I was on your street, so I thought it would be fun to say hello."

"Joanna," Molly said, "Pamela was the sweetest girl when we met her. She had been shopping for new lingerie and she was so excited!"

"She has the most delightful taste in bras and panties. Just pinks and very feminine blues and yellows with lots of flowers and lace. It was such a breath of fresh air to meet a girl like her."

"Don't go on like that Molly," Joanna said laughing, "you're so predictable. Pamela, I've heard this speech a hundred times before about how modern girls just want to dress and act like boys."

"It's true, Joanna dear. Look at yourself! You're wearing men's pants and a pirates top and those shoes. So plain and unladylike."

"But very comfortable, just like men feel."

"How would you know how men feel? There's nothing more comfortable than a dress and pantyhose, isn't that true Pamela?"

"I quite agree, Ms. Molly," Blake said crossing his legs and gathering his skirt to his side.

"See how pretty she's dressed now, and how perfect her legs look. In the old days we wore corsets that made us even more beautiful," Molly said.

"Indeed," Grace added. "There's nothing like a good corset! They gave us wonderful posture and a sense of elegance. And oh, the delicate lacework! It was a true art form that women got to enjoy in a world hidden from men."

"You're so silly, Grace and Molly! Corsets were nothing but one-woman prisons that made them useless for anything other than being ornaments for men."

"Being an ornament for a man, as you say, actually had many advantages for women. With a good corset on, we gained an authority over men that gave us unlimited power in manipulating them."

"I met a woman at the girdle shop, when I was buying my girdles," Blake broke in excitedly, "and she was saying the same thing. She told me that I could get any man to do what I wanted with the right corset on."

"She's a woman after our own hearts!" Molly said.

"Molly, don't you have a trunk of corsets in the attic?" Joanna asked.

"Yes we do!"

"Let's see what Pamela really thinks about them! We'll make a bet. I say that after she tries one on, she'll hate them and you can bet that she loves them!"

"A splendid idea, Joanna. You two run along upstairs and after you've got Pamela dressed in a corset, bring her down for us to see."

"How do you feel about that Pamela?" Joanna asked.

"It sounds like fun!" Blake exclaimed and he followed Joanna up two flights of stairs to the attic.
 

 
In the attic they found a steamship chest filled with corsets. Joanna searched through them saying, "let me see... do you want a black one or a pink one or a red one? I'll bet you want a pink one. Ah, here's a perfect one to start with." She held up a pink and white striped corset and held it up for Blake to see. He took it from her and examined it closely. It was a complicated affair with many hooks and strings and Blake was at a loss as to how it was to be put on.

Seeing his confusion, Joanna said, "I know it's really medieval isn't it. I'm sure we can figure it out together. You first better get undressed."

"Joanna, there's something I have to tell you," Blake said as he unfastened his blouse and took it off.

Joanna stopped rummaging through the chest and looked up at him. He was wearing just a bra and had unzipped his skirt and was holding it up with his hands.

"My aren't you precious," Joanna said smiling at him. Her eyes were riveted to his and he saw them dart down to look at his breasts. She got up and walked over to him. She was a couple of inches taller than him and he had to look up slightly to see into her face. She had a strange expression, slightly amused but masking some deep inner calculation. "What did you want to tell me?" her voice was firm and commanding in tone but in a gentle way, like a mother who finally was allowing her daughter to speak after having first admonished her about rushing her words.

Blake let the skirt fall to the floor around his ankles. "Joanna, you see, um," he suddenly realized this was going to be more difficult than he thought, "you see my panties?"

Joanna took a step back and looked down, "why yes Pamela, they're so very pretty."

"No Joanna, I wasn't trying to tell you about my panties. I mean, look at my panties." He was frustrated trying to get it out right. "I mean in my panties, look in my panties."

"You want me look at your vagina? I'm sure it's quite a pretty one and I'd love to see it once you pull your panties down."

"No, that's not what I want to show you! What do you see when you look at the front of my panties?"

"I see a lot of pretty lace and a little ribbon. Trust me, they're really beautiful. You have the most exquisite taste in panties of any girl I've ever met."

Blake could tell she was teasing him and he laughed and said, "I know you must think I'm crazy, but I just don't want you to be surprised when I take them off."

"Are you're trying to tell me that you're having your period? I really think I can handle seeing a bloody pad. I've seen enough of my own!"

"No, Joanna. It's not that, it's just that inside my panties I have something that maybe I shouldn't have, I mean that you weren't expecting maybe."

He could see Joanna's face pass through a momentary puzzled expression to sudden enlightenment. "Oh my goodness, you're telling me that you have a tattoo? Some horrendous tattoo?"

"No, not a tattoo. Guess again."

"A scar?"

"No! Don't you see a little bulge there?"

"Don't tell me you're really a little boy!" Joanna exclaimed.

"No, well yes, no well no, no yes." Blake was tongue tied. "Joanna! I'm a girl, but in my panties I have a penis! Do you see what I'm saying?"

"You're a transvestite?"

"No, not really, not now. For a while, I guess maybe I was but now I'm a girl. That's why I'm telling you this. So you'll understand when you see it." Blake pulled down his pantyhose and panties and stepped out of them so he was wearing just his bra. Though his penis was doing its best to be invisible, it was clearly a penis nonetheless.

"How darling Pamela! God you sure fooled me and my aunts. A little boy dressed up like such a pretty girl. Imagine that. God are you cute!" Joanna looked at him intently and smiled.

"You see Joanna..."

"Pamela, you don't have to do any explaining to me. Not another word. I think it's just marvelous how precious you are. All your concern about getting me upset. If anything, I'm very happy you're a boy who has become a girl. You're the type of boy who could make some woman very happy one day."

"What do you mean?" Blake said surprised.

"It's just that a lot of women would find you a safe affectionate partner. They can get the benefit of you having a penis, assuming that you don't transition or have it cut off, so that you can give them children and so forth, but you won't be competition to them in other areas. They can be the breadwinner with you being dependent on them."

"But I may want a career too!"

"Perhaps, but I don't think that the things you need to do to be effeminate like worrying about your pretty lingerie and dresses and makeup and so forth, will give you time to advance your career. But don't look so down, that's no problem. Millions of women choose to be housewives, or have a career from their home, such as writers and artists and so forth."

"But Joanna, I do want to be a scientist. Well, I do want to be a mother first but I also want to be a scientist."

"Well maybe one day your husband or wife or whatever will let you be one."

Blake thought about this and said, "it sounds like you don't respect me."

"Don't think that for a second!" Joanna took Blake's hands in hers and looked at him sympathetically. "If I had the chance, I might even want to have you all for myself!"

"Do you really mean that?" Blake said incredulously.

"I certainly do!"

"Aren't you interested in real men? I mean you're so beautiful and everything."

"That's real isn't it?" Joanna said touching the tip of Blake's penis with her finger.

"You know what I mean. I'm emotionally a girl and I don't see how you could find me attractive."

"Pamela, you might have guessed by looking at me, if you were more experienced anyway, that I'm a male kind of woman. I like making the decisions, I don't like men telling me what to do. I especially don't like them controlling me sexually. In fact, Molly and Grace, bless their hearts, have given me so much flack about not dating."

"You're not a Lesbian are you?"

"No, not really, though I've done some experimentation. No, I don't date very much because most men turn me off. All that body hair and muscles and sweat."

"You don't like penises?"

"They're OK. They're the one thing I can stand about men. What about you, Pamela?"

"Well, I'd be lying if I said that I found strong men repulsive. Part of me likes to feel their hard biceps and to be held in their arms and I don't mind their chest hair. And I guess there really is something nice about a long hard penis, the way it makes me feel kind of important because I can give it so much pleasure."

"It sounds like you've had a lot of experience!"

"I don't want to give you the wrong impression Joanna. A few men have had their way with me in the last couple of weeks because I didn't know how to stop them, but everything is much better now. I feel a lot more confidant that I can be respected by men. In fact, I sort of have a boy friend now, or at least I think I do. He's a very nice man, who likes opera and I think he's wild about me."

"What's he going to do when he finds out you have a penis?"

"I don't know Joanna and I'm scared about it. In fact, part of me thinks that maybe it's a bad idea to have relationships with men cause I couldn't have a baby with a man, for example. It's very exciting to me what you said before, about that you might like a girl like me, because if I met someone like that, it could maybe solve all my problems."

"But women wouldn't have bulging biceps and broad shoulders."

"Well that's not that important. Most of my girl friends are a lot stronger than me, so I guess that a woman like you would be so much stronger than me it would be like you were a man in comparison."

Joanna looked at Blake mysteriously.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Blake asked.

Joanna walked over to him and put her arms around him and drew him in close to her so his bra was pressed against her blouse. "Pamela, why are we talking so abstractly about 'if I met a woman like you' or 'if I met a boy like you'? The fact of the matter is that we have met each other. Isn't that true?"

"I was too shy to say that myself Joanna, but I do feel like you're special." Blake looked up into her face and felt an excited twinge of emotion race up and down his spine.

Joanna leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on his lips and Blake felt like an ocean of blood was running up to his head and he felt dizzy. She broke off the very tender kiss after a few seconds and said, "Now let's see what you look like in that corset."

Joanna helped wrap it around Blake's waist. It was a Victorian wasp-waist corset, heavily boned with front hooks and top-to-bottom back lacing and a fluted waist. Four garters with metal fasteners dangled from the bottom hem. "Now we have to take off at least four inches from your waist if we're going to be wearing this properly. Is that OK?"

"Yes, Joanna. It might be a little old fashioned, but I think it's really pretty and I like the boning and the way it's shaped."

"We'll see if you still feel the same way when we're done." Joanna laced up the back, pulling in the strings as hard as she could. Blake felt the air being forced from his lower lung and the tight grip of the corset on his waist.

"Breathe out while I do it, so we get it tighter," Joanna said and Blake let out his air as she gave the laces a mighty tug with her knee up against his back. The corset jumped in a couple of inches and Blake found himself thrust into a whole new realm of femininity. After a few more mighty pushes the job was done and Joanna tied the end of the strings into a bow. She helped Blake put on his panties and then some stockings and fastened them on the garters and helped him put his heels on.

Blake felt utterly helpless in a way he had never anticipated. The corset was controlling his every gesture and thought. He could take only small girlish steps now and he instinctively held out his hand for Joanna to guide and escort him. He was acutely conscious of his figure, his breasts held up high and jutting outward and his behind pulled out and to the rear.

"Joanna, I feel so wonderful."

"Go on, Pamela, it looks so completely painful to be in that."

"No, no Joanna. For me it's a liberation from my male self. I've never felt so feminine, like I could swoon in your arms and do anything you want me to."

"Well that's the exact opposite of what your friend at the girdle shop said!"

"I don't know, Joanna, I guess I'll never be that kind of woman. If anything she's more like you than me! I don't know what I'm saying! I just feel wonderful in some new sort of way I've never felt before. I want to float though the house. Let's go downstairs and see Molly and Grace, can we!"

"Of course, Pamela, that was the point of dressing you up! Just take my arm!"

Joanna held out her arm, like Juergen had done at the rehearsal, and Blake gently laid his hand on her forearm. She led him down the stairs and he felt dizzy with ecstasy. His legs swished delicately in their small steps and his arms lost their muscles as he had become light as a feather. At the bottom of the stairs he rushed forward to the ladies exclaiming, "Molly and Grace, I can't tell you how much I love wearing a corset. It feels wonderful in a whole new way!"

Blake excitedly embraced them and laughed and pirouetted around them on the hardwood floors. "And I love Joanna so much. She knew exactly how to lace me up!"

"See Joanna? Didn't we tell you that corsets are a woman's best friend! Look at Pamela, she's in love with the corset and she's in love with you."

"And with you and Grace!" Blake said.

"She's in love with all of us!" Molly said.

"Come, come Pamela, sit down here next to me," Grace said as she guided Blake to the sofa next to her. Blake found that he could only sit with his back rigidly at attention with his breasts thrust forward.

"It looks like the two of you outfoxed me," Joanna said. "You must have known how some girls respond to corsets!"

"We did tell you, but you wouldn't listen. Anyway, your aunts have seen an awful lot in their time and we do know the power of corsets. I'll bet that Pamela is going to find it's hard not to want to wear one all the time!"

"Can I?" Blake said.

"Sixty years ago, in Paris, when we were young, but not nowadays my poor dear, you'd be treated like a mental patient if you did."

"Well, when I'm home sometimes!"

"But you can't get into it without someone to help you. For that matter you can't get out of it unless someone unlaces the back!" Joanna said.

"I don't care, then I'll just keep this on the rest of my life!" Blake laughed. "But it's your corset, so I'll need your permission."

"Pamela, you can wear it until you have to go, and then when you come back - and of course we hope you'll come again - we'll let you try another one on. We've got dozens as you saw," Molly said.

"Speaking of going, I guess I do have to go," Blake said dejectedly.

"When will you come again?"

"Whenever you invite me!"

"Molly and Grace, let me get Pamela out of that corset so she can get going," Joanna said, "and she and I'll set up a time to meet again."

"Splendid idea," Molly said and Joanna led Blake back upstairs.

In the attic she unfastened the laces and unhooked the corset until it came off. "Your breasts look so real," Joanna said when Blake was standing naked gathering up his underwear to put on.

"I want to get real ones, I mean I'm definitely going to get real ones put in by surgery, you know silicone ones as soon as I can. I want to be at least a C cup like my sister, or maybe even a D cup like my mom."

"God, Pamela, you'd be impossibly sexy with a chest like that!"

"Do you think so?"

"You're slender in just the right way to have large breasts. But what about your penis?"

"Well if I did ever decide to lose it, it wouldn't be until after I've had my kids. So the answer is maybe one day I'd lose it and get my very own vagina but I don't know for sure."

"Of course, for me, I'd always want you to have it, but I understand that it could get in the way of your feeling as feminine as possible. It certainly ruins your chance of wearing bikinis." Blake and Joanna laughed despite the fact that they knew there were very difficult problems to be overcome before they could manage to get the kind of relationship that would make them both happy.

Joanna said, "Well it's all very far in the future anyway. Now, come, let me walk you down to the road."
 

 
After saying good bye to Molly and Grace, Blake stepped outside with Joanna and they slowly made their way to the end of the property.

"How can I contact you Pamela?"

"I'll give you my phone number and address." Blake took a pen and paper out of his purse and wrote down the information for Joanna.

"In a few weeks I think I'm going to be Pamela all the time. Then we could be girl friends!"

Joanna looked puzzled at Blake and he said, "you see only my mom knows right now and she's going to tell my dad in a couple of weeks. Once he knows, I can then be Pamela all the time."

"You're younger than I thought."

Worriedly Blake asked, "please don't be upset."

"I think we'll have to wait a few years to find out if our relationship can work out."

Blake held back tears. "But Joanna..."

Seeing his tears, she but her arms around his shoulders, "there, there, Pamela. I didn't say we shouldn't see each other, just that, well you know, with your parents involved it'll be very restrictive."

"But we'll be girls, I mean you'll be my girl friend and then we can see each other as much as we want."

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, I'll give you a call next week to see what your doing."

"I'd really like that Joanna!"

They exchanged a brief kiss and Blake set off homeward. Randy was nowhere in sight and Blake decided to stick to small streets on the way back to Kathy's house so it would be very unlikely that Randy would see him.

On the way home Blake decided that he had some important thinking to do. Within a short time he had acquired Juergen as a boy friend and now Joanna as a girl friend and maybe much more. He felt the early pangs of love for both of them.

What could he do? What should he do?

Joanna was right about one thing. The problem might be solved very fast after Juergen finds out that he has a penis. The thought that Juergen would be repulsed by him, made Blake ill. He would never want to do that to Juergen, yet, unless he was to have surgery almost immediately, Juergen would eventually find out. To prevent Juergen from learning his secret he would have to be chaste with him. Kissing could be the only thing that they do for a long time to come until he knew which path he wanted to follow. Of course he could give Juergen pleasure with his mouth and hands, but Juergen would want to reciprocate, and that would be a problem.
 

 
When Blake arrived back at Kathy's house, Mrs. O'Connor was home and she and Blake sat down in the living room to chat about what had gone on since she had met with his mom. "Mrs. O'Connor, I wanted to tell you that everything is turning out great with my mom, and she and I can't ever thank you enough for all you've done for us."

"I am so glad for you Pamela! But I must admit that I'm a tiny bit sorry about what happened since I'm a little jealous of your mom. I would so much like to feel that you're my daughter."

Tears filled Blake's eyes and he leaned over to hug her. "Mrs. O'Connor, you'll always be a mom to me, and just as close to me as my real mom! Please don't ever feel jealous like that. I can't stand the thought. You know I love you more than anything!"

"I didn't mean to upset you, honey, I do believe what you're saying and I'll always see you as my daughter. You must promise to visit me as often as you can after you become Pamela."

"I certainly will, you know that!"

"This has been such a busy time with the final preparations for the wedding. I've been running around like the Mad Hatter. Have I told you what time to show up here Saturday morning?"

"Twelve O'clock noon."

"Yes, that should give you an hour to get ready before we drive over to the church for the ceremony at 1:30. By all means you better be prompt!"

"You can count on me!" Blake said, realizing with limitless excitement, that the big day was almost here.
 
 
Chapter 15
 
Saturday morning finally came, and Blake awoke feeling more excited than he had ever felt in his life. This was going to be the most perfect day in history he thought! He imagined the girls and himself standing together in their bridesmaid dresses waiting to march down the aisle: their pink lacy gowns, white arms, pink high-heeled shoes and their long hair perfectly set and resting lightly on their shoulders. As much beauty as they would radiate, however, it wouldn't compare to that of Beth who was certainly the most beautiful bride ever.

The scene on the dais: how it must look to the guests with the pretty girls and the masses of flowers and the handsome groom and the escorts standing to either side. Thoughts like these raced through Blake's mind as he stretched and got out of bed. He couldn't stop smiling, he felt giddy. Taking off the panties he had slept in, he put on a fresh pair. It fact it didn't really matter which ones he wore today anyway, since he had a matching bra, panty and slip waiting for him that Mrs. O'Connor had specially picked out for the girls to wear at the wedding. These were made from a pure ivory colored silk fabric blend with a delicate pink floral lace pattern similar to that of the dress itself. Though it wasn't absolutely necessary to have done this, Mrs. O'Connor thought it helped emphasize to the girls just how special the day was.

Another cause for Blake to be excited was that the Girls-Only Club members had decided that he was grown up enough now to merit an increase in his breast size. The bra that was waiting for him at Kathy's house was a B cup as were new breast forms that the girls had gotten for him. The idea of being more womanly by having a larger chest thrilled Blake so much so that he could not imagine how he would be able to wait until noon to see how the new bra and breasts looked and felt.
 

 
On Saturday mornings Blake's family ate together: cheese omelets cooked by Blake's dad. Sundays the family ate French toast cooked by his mom. As was the case every Saturday morning, Blake's dad was in a very good mood. "So Ann, do you think you're going to win a trophy today?" he said. She was entered in a weight lifting competition as part of the yearly sports festival held downtown. It had been the talk of the family for weeks, since it had required some special petitioning of the event organizers to get Ann permission to compete in an event which was supposed to be for boys only.

"You bet, dad. None of those geeks is gonna stand a chance against me!"

Blake shuddered thinking of Ann's huge biceps, and how she probably would win seeing how much she hated boys and had something to prove. Luckily his mom had already told him that he wouldn't have to watch Ann compete since he needed to prepare for the wedding.

"I can't wait to see their faces when you do your first lift," Blake's dad continued. He was clearly very proud of Ann. "We're all going to be rooting for you, aren't we?"

"You bet!" Barry said.

Before Blake could say anything, his dad looked at him saying, "maybe this time next year you'll enter the competition and give Ann a run for her money! How are your workouts coming along?"

"Just fine dad," he lied. He had no intention of ever developing biceps.

"You watch Ann do her lifting today and I'm sure you'll get inspired to work out even harder!"

Alarmed, Blake said, "I think it's really great and all, but you know that I have to get ready for the wedding. I already discussed it with mom and she said I wouldn't have to go downtown, not that I don't really want to see Ann and all." He tried to phrase it so as not to give Ann the impression that he was actually quite happy he didn't have to go. He was looking forward to taking a delicious bubble bath once everyone had left.

"What time is the wedding?" his dad said.

"About 1:30, but I have to be at Kathy's house at noon time sharp to get ready."

"Well, the weight lifting competition runs only until noon. We could easily get you to Kathy's before 12:30. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you were a half hour late."

"But I wouldn't be able to get dressed in time."

"Jesus, Blake, how long does it take you to put on a suit?"

"Just a few minutes, but..."

"C'mon, Blake, your sister has worked really hard for this, and it's important that the whole family be there to cheer her on. Ain't that right Ann?"

"Yes, dad. I think it'll be really good for Blake to watch me so he could learn better how to develop his physique. Don't you agree, Blake?" she said it threateningly and drilled him with her eyes. Blake knew better than to protest any further, but he still hoped his mom would intervene.

"I'm sure it will be Ann, but..." he looked at his mom imploringly.

Blake's mother had a worried expression on her face as she said, "Mrs. O'Connor is expecting him at noon, and it does take a lot of time to get ready for a wedding."

"Maybe for the bride and bridesmaids, with their makeup and skirts and everything," his dad said, but for a guy, I remember at our wedding I got dressed in a minute. Two minutes, if you count the time I had to spend trying to get my Windsor knot correct."

Blake's mom smiled, "you never did get it right, dear. An extra half hour might have done the trick. Anyway, it would cause them a lot of unwanted concern if Blake was late."

"Then we'll have him call her up and let her know. I'm sure Mrs. O'Connor won't mind at all."

Blake felt his heart sag. He tried to smile and think positive thoughts, but he knew he better not protest any more or Ann would take it out on him later.

"It's OK, I guess, so long as we really do leave at noon."

"Don't worry," his dad said, "we'll get you to your precious wedding. Now, lets leave right after breakfast so we have some time to catch some of the other sporting events. I think the kick boxing competition is on at ten."

"We don't have to rush down there," Janice said, "these sports days are so boring, at least for the girls."

"Speak for yourself," Ann said, irritated.

"This year they're having a fashion show in the auditorium to keep the girls interested," Blake's mom said.

"Yuck," Ann said.

"It's going to be a Jessica McClintock fashion show. I think it'll be mainly prom dresses."

"Sounds neat," Janice added.

Blake wanted to voice his agreement with Janice, but kept silent. Under the glare of Ann he tried to act like he didn't care at all.

"Could we leave a little before twelve?" Blake said changing the subject back to their departure time. He tried not to sound too insistent.

"Don't you worry, Blake, we'll give you plenty of time to get ready. Then it's settled, we'll leave as soon as we finish breakfast."

Blake felt anxious and disappointed. A bubble bath would have been just absolutely perfect for this special day. Maybe he would still have time to take a quick shower at Kathy's house. If they left for Kathy's house at noon, he would only be fifteen minutes late.

"OK, Dad. It'll be fun to watch Ann," Blake said as cheerfully as possible.
 

 
Blake's family drove downtown to the sports festival in their minivan. As soon as they were parked, Blake's dad suggested they watch the kick-boxing competition. Barry and Ann seconded the idea, but Janice and Blake's mom protested.

"I hate kick boxing," Janice said, "I can't stand to watch the fighters kick and punch each other."

"I agree with Janice," Blake's mom said. "It's not a civilized sport and we shouldn't encourage it by attending."

"Jesus, mom, kick boxing is the greatest," Ann said, "can't we go dad?"

"Honey, the kids really want to see it. Why don't we split up. You and Janice do whatever you want, go to your fashion show, and I'll take the rest of the kids to the boxing. Then we can meet at 11:15 for the weight-lifting exhibition."

"Splendid idea," Janice said.

"But dad!" Blake broke in, "I don't want to see the kick boxing either."

"Why not Blake?" his father said with exasperation.

"It's like Janice said, it's too violent for me. I can't stand to see the people getting hurt."

"They wear protective helmets."

"Still it really frightens me," Blake said.

Ann laughed and pretended to be a kick boxer fighting him. After a few fake kicks she landed one in his stomach which partially knocked the air out of him and he yelled in pain and had to fight to hold back tears.

"Ann!" his mother yelled and put herself between them. "How many times have I told you to stop picking on Blake. You could have killed him with that kick."

Addressing her husband she said, "dear, let Blake come with me and Janice. It won't do any good to keep him together with Ann."

"Jesus, honey, whatever you want, but I don't see how you can possibly take Blake to a fashion show. He'll be the only guy there."

"What are you talking about? Lot's of men love fashion shows, especially sophisticated men."

"Yeah right. OK, you three do whatever you want. We'll meet you later."
 

 
As Blake, Janice and his mom walked toward the pavilion, his mom said, "are you sure you won't mind the fashion show?"

Blake looked at her funny and then realized that she was saying that for Janice's benefit, since she wasn't supposed to know about his "secret." "Of course not, mom. In fact, I'm very excited about it."

Janice gave Blake a worried look and rolled her eyes up when their gazes met. She put a finger to her mouth as if to say, "ssshh." Clearly, Janice was afraid that their mom would find out his secret. Blake realized that something had to be done to let Janice and his mom know that both of them knew the secret. Before he could decide what to do, they ran into Valerie and a group of girls from his school.

"Hi, Pam! I-mean-Blake!," Valerie called out and Blake turned beet red.

His mother turned to him saying, "Pam?"

"Oh, my God!" Janice exclaimed.

"Janice!" his mom exclaimed.

"Mom!" Janice exclaimed.

"I'm sorry Blake!" Valerie exclaimed.

"Blake, say something!" Janice exclaimed.

"It's OK Janice!" Blake cried.

"Janice, is it really OK!?" his mom said.

"Really? You know?"

"I know! You know?"

"Yes, mom!"

They turned to Blake and he said, "I want you to meet Valerie. She's in my class."

"Blake!" his mom and Janice said together.

"Nice to meet you," Valerie said then introduced the other girls.

There was an extended silence in which everyone smiled, and Blake's mom and Janice looked back and forth at each other and then at Blake. Finally, Blake's mom said, "are we all going to the fashion show?"

"Yes!" said Valerie and the girls.

"Blake," Blake's mom said, "why don't you, Valerie and the other girls run ahead to the show. Janice and I will join you there later. In fact, you sit with your friends and we'll meet you outside the theater at 11:15. Do you have a watch?"

"No, but Valerie does."

"OK, just keep track of time and we'll see you later."

"Thanks mom," Blake said, and he and the other girls went ahead laughing and giggling amongst themselves.
 

 
Janice and Blake's mom looked at each other and at the same moment said, "I'm not even going to ask!"

"But really, mom, when did you find out about Blake?"

"Just the other day; it was such a trying experience! Do you remember when Blake and I went out together that night?"

"Yes."

"Well it was to meet Mrs. O'Connor. I was going to give her hell, even threaten her with a law suit, but then something happened and I got this vision that there was no use pretending that my son Blake was a boy. He really is so girlish and I could see that it would probably make him happy for the rest of his life if I could just accept him as the Pamela he so desperately wants to be!"

"That's sweet of you mom. I saw the same thing in Blake a few weeks ago and I also didn't have the heart to reject him. He's so innocent and there's something so feminine about him, it makes me want to buy pretty things for him, just to see how happy it makes him. You know how some girls gravitate to pretty flowery dresses and heels and look so delicate. I'm afraid that Blake is that sort of girl."

"Me too Janice. It's just a crazy thing, and what's even more bizarre is how Ann is turning into a muscle man. She's so strong and so hates her female side it's frightening!"

"She really terrorizes Blake, too, and I'm getting more and more afraid to stop her from bullying him. I know she could kill me, so just imagine how easily she could kill Pamela!"

"She's made him into some sort of servant. Whatever she tells him to do, he runs to do it. And he never contradicts anything she says. In the past, he used to stand up to her. I wonder if she's blackmailing him or if he's just afraid of getting hurt."

"Maybe she knows about him wearing bras and panties?" Janice said.

"It could be. She could be threatening to tell his father or me. I guess it means that I shouldn't delay letting your father know about Pamela, though I don't relish it one bit. He's going to have a heart attack, besides maybe killing Blake on the spot!"

"I know, mom. I'm really terrified about dad finding out. How exactly did you find out?"

"It was completely by accident. The little dear hadn't realized that after wearing a bra all day, it leaves a red indentation in your skin that stays for quite some time. I was delivering some clean towels to the bathroom while he was in there and when he opened the door to let me in, I could see plain as day the outline of a bra across his chest and sides. You can imagine how I almost died. Though now it sort of seems funny."

"I can't wait until he really becomes my sister," Janice said, "Ann was never ever feminine. With Pamela I'll be able to help her pick out dresses and shoes, you know, do girl type things together. Go to the mall or beauty parlor with her. Help her discover more and more of her feminine self. Maybe even double date one day."

"That will be nice. Another interesting thing will be to see how his grandparents take the news."

"And our aunts and cousins! It's going to be an incredible period of time!"

"But the hardest part will be his dad. I hope once he accepts that Blake is a girl, everything else will fall into place."
 

 
As they joined the line of girls entering the pavilion, it was obvious that Blake was the only boy intending to see the fashion show. When they got to the front, a stout woman guarding the door said sharply, "I'm sorry young man, but the fashion show is for girls only. Can't you read the sign." She pointed to a small sign on the wall nearby which Blake hadn't noticed.

"But I'm a girl," Blake protested.

"Yes, he is," Valerie added for emphasis.

"Don't be ridiculous. No boys! Now step aside so I can let the rest of girls in."

"But I am a girl!" Blake said with some agitation as he moved over.

"Give me a break. Do you want me to call the manager?" the woman said testily.

Valerie said, "why don't you! Pamela is my girl friend and it's really insulting to call her a boy! Isn't it Pamela!"

Seeing the commotion, a short matronly woman walked over to the group to find out what was happening. Addressing her, the stout woman said, "Mrs. Parker, this boy is trying to get into the show."

"I'm sorry young man but this show is just for the ladies. You have all the wonderful sport events going on outside just for you. This is a show strictly for women and girls to be enjoyed without the interference provided by men!"

Blake was distraught. "Mrs. Parker, please. I'm a girl. My name is Pamela. I wear girls' underwear. Every day now. I mean I never wear boy's underwear anymore. And my mom knows all about it. In fact I'll be wearing dresses all the time next fall." He started to fight back tears.

"You're wearing boys' clothes, you have a boy's hairdo and for someone your age you're completely flat chested. Do you want me to inspect inside your jeans?"

"Look Ms. Parker," Valerie spoke up, "Pamela is still transitioning to being a girl full time. Look inside her blouse." Valerie lifted up the front of Blake's shirt and showed off his white bra. Mrs. Parker gasped slightly at the sight. "And she's wearing panties also, do I need to show you?"

"You kids are trying to play a practical joke on us!" Mrs. Parker said, "and I'm not going to stand for it."

Just then a voice called out, "what's the commotion?" Blake recognized Brenda from the girdle shop.

"Hi Brenda." Blake said, "they won't let me into the fashion show cause they don't believe I'm a girl!"

"How ridiculous!" Brenda said, and turning to Mrs. Parker continued, "Pamela is as feminine as any girl I know. She bought like 6 girdles from the shop where I work."

Blake blushed as Valerie and the other girls laughed. Mrs. Parker couldn't suppress a chuckle also and then said, "well, that may be the case but it would be disruptive to the other girls to have her in the hall looking like a boy."

"Can't you make an exception?" one of the girls asked.

Just then Blake's mom and Janice entered the lobby and approached Blake and the others. "Mom, am I glad to see you," Blake said. "Could you and Janice tell Mrs. Parker that I'm a girl. She won't let me in the show cause it's supposed to be girls only."

Before Blake's mom could speak, Mrs. Parker said, "all right, all right. I'll let Pamela in, but she must first change into a dress, so no one complains to me later."

"Where am I going to get a dress?"

"We don't have time to drive her home to get one," his mom said.

"Don't worry. Everyone else go on in and enjoy the show while I find Pamela a dress. I know I saw an old dress lying around the office. Come with me!" and Mrs. Parker led Blake to her office adjacent to the lobby. She went through a couple of closets until she found what she was looking for: a pink sun dress with a wide skirt and sunflowers embroidered on the bodice. She had Blake take off his shirt and jeans and slipped the dress over his head, and then zipped up the back.

"Not too bad a fit. I think it'll do!" Blake said.

"Now you run along and take your seat! Wait! first let me brush your hair so you look more feminine." After a minute of changing the style to Pamela's she said, "all done. Now hurry up, the show is about to begin!"

"I can't thank you enough, Mrs. Parker."

"The pleasure is all mine."

Blake ran back to the lobby and then into the pavilion and looked around for Valerie and the other girls. Row after row of women filled up the large hall. A long runway had been constructed out over the center aisle for the models to show off the dresses. Blake saw Valerie and the other girls waving at him from a row halfway down the orchestra level. To get there he had to maneuver past an entire row of 20 girls, excusing himself as he passed each one. Finally, he took his seat next to the runway with Valerie to his right.

"That's a pretty dress they found for you," Valerie said.

"Aren't I lucky! I guess it could have been too big or too small or too weird!"

Looking at the girls seated near him, Blake was aware of how flat chested he was. "I should have stuffed something in my bra!" he said.

"Put your socks in it; you can wear your sneakers barefooted, lots of girls do that. Then let me put some lipstick on you."

"Okay."

When she was done, he felt a lot better, except he wished he was wearing pantyhose. "I don't suppose you have any pantyhose Valerie?" he whispered to her.

"Fraid not!" she said. She was going to ask the other girls if they happened to have an extra pair in their purses, when the lights suddenly went out and the show began. A spotlight lit up the center curtain and an announcer came out smiling and waving at the audience. Blake almost fell out of his seat when he realized that it was Mr. Morris.

"Oh my God!" he said under his breath, "it's Mr. Morris!"

"Who's he?" Valerie whispered.

"He made me give him a blow job!"

"You must be kidding!"

"No! The other girls will tell you."

"God, how disgusting!"

"I'll tell you about it later!"

Mr. Morris was just like Blake remembered him. Poised and self possessed, he described what the show was about, the kinds of dresses they would be seeing. His many jokes relaxed the audience. As he spoke, he sidled out onto the runway, dragging a long cable attached to a microphone. When he reached a point opposite Blake, the cord wouldn't extend any further and he stopped there, swiveling around looking in all directions while joking with the audience.

Blake was too stunned to listen carefully to what he was saying, but he perceived that Mr. Morris was looking for someone from the audience to answer some questions and to assist him up on the stage. The girls around him raised their hands trying to get Mr. Morris to pick them.

By bizarre accident Mr. Morris picked Blake, even though he hadn't raised his hand. In a booming voice, he asked "how about this young lady? Come on up and lets find out what you think about Jessica McClintock." The spotlight was turned directly on Blake who saw that Mr. Morris had leaned toward him offering his hand to help him step up onto the runway.

Blake shook his head and whispered, "please take someone else!"

"No, no, no!" Mr. Morris's loudly intoned, "don't be shy, you're too lovely to pass up! We want to see you, now come on up!" Mr. Morris obviously found Blake's reluctance amusing and was not going to take no for an answer. Finally, Blake stood and reluctantly climbed onto the runway by first sitting on it then tucking his legs to the side and sitting up onto his knees. Mr. Morris took his hand and helped him onto his feet.

In front of so many people Blake felt shy and awkward and he nervously wrapped his bare arms across his stomach, Mr. Morris grinned at Blake while keeping up his banter with the audience. To avoid the blinding spotlight, Blake looked down at Mr. Morris' feet.

"So what's your name young lady?"

"Pamela."

"Pamela, a very pretty name." Blake looked up and saw confusion in Mr. Morris's eyes, and then heard him say, "don't I know you from somewhere?"

Lying, Blake said, "I don't think so." Mr. Morris' expression suddenly changed, as if he had seen a ghost, and Blake had the impression that he had mumbled some epithet under his breath. Holding the mike away from the two of them, Mr. Morris whispered, "of all the girls in this place, how in heaven's name did I end up picking you?" Then putting the mike to his lips he said, "So tell me Pamela, are you a local girl?"

"Yes, Mr. Morris"

"Are you going to your prom next month?"

"I don't know yet. No boys have asked me." The audience laughed.

"I can't imagine a girl as pretty as you not going. Maybe someone has a brother who could ask Pamela?" There was a smattering of laughter and a shout of "yes!" followed by more laughter.

"What kind of dress would you want to wear to the prom, assuming you were going?"

"I don't know, something with a full skirt. Maybe pink, or light blue or yellow. I know! I'm sure I'd want a Jessica McClintock dress!"

This was greeted by much laughter and some applause. "Tell you what Pamela. It's time to see our first dress. Come over here with me and help Mimi, describe it, will you?." Without waiting for a reply he led Blake to a lectern off to one side of the stage where they were joined by a middle aged woman in a long sequined gown.

"Hi, Pamela! and everyone of you girls!" Mimi intoned in a syrupy voice, "have we got dresses for you! Now, Pamela why don't you kick things off by telling everyone about our first gown."

Startled by the attention, Blake nonetheless found his composure and recited into the microphone from a card Mimi handed him: "Our first number from the new 1997 Jessica McClintock collection, worn by lovely Dolores, is a Magenta duchess satin dress with skinny strap bodice and fitted shawl jacket."

To large applause, a beautiful raven-haired woman came sweeping out onto the runway wearing the gorgeous dress. Blake excitedly joined in the clapping. While Dolores began her trip up the runway, Mr. Morris tapped Blake on the shoulder and whispered to him, "Mimi can handle the rest. Come with me." He indicated a passageway through the curtain to the backstage area. Not knowing what he was supposed to be doing next, Blake followed Mr. Morris and found himself among a scattered assortment of stage props including a large overstuffed arm chair.

Alone with Blake, Mr. Morris said, "just as pretty as I remember you Pamela. I've been thinking a lot about you."

"Mr. Morris don't start up your seduction routine on me."

"Pamela!"

"No, let me finish! You took advantage of me and made me do a disgusting act which I could have you put in prison for."

"Pamela, Pamela, why are you talking so cruelly? I did you a big favor that day. I made you come to terms with yourself, didn't I?"

This was an unexpected bit of logic which Blake tried to digest before he continued his scolding.

"Preying upon a young girl like myself is really horrible. You could have caused me all kinds of emotional trauma!"

"You watch too many movies Pamela. While I admit that I did sort of take advantage of your innocence, you were awfully innocent, and if it wasn't me then certainly some other guy would have had you in the same position. I'll bet that I helped you grow up much faster and start to behave more like a real girl. In fact, just look at yourself today. No one would ever know that you're a guy underneath that pretty sundress."

Blake found his anger waning by the flattery. It was very hard to know if Mr. Morris had been bad or not. There seemed to be some truth in what he was saying.

"Look, Pamela, here comes Dolores, watch what she thinks about me."

Blake turned around to see Dolores quickly walking towards them in the magenta gown.

"Hi Dolores," Jim said, "do you know Pamela?"

"She did a great job introducing me," Dolores said, "now sit down and spread your legs, I've got to get to work!"

While Mr. Morris sat in the armchair, Dolores fell quickly to the ground in front of him and with his help opened his fly and removed his penis. "Let me make sure Jim. This is still the one hundred/one thousand deal?" Dolores said.

"Same as last week, honey. Better luck this time!"

"You fucker," she said, and she avidly sucked on Mr. Morris's cock. It had happened so fast and seemed so incompatible with the show going on just outside the curtain that Blake was dumbstruck.

Seeing his confusion, Mr. Morris said, "let me explain, Pamela. The girls and I have a little contest which we do at each of these shows. They take turns sucking on me after they come off the runway and until the next girl shows up. Then they run to the dressing room to switch dresses and wait their turn until they're back on the runway, and then they get another shot at my prick. The one who's sucking on me when I come wins a thousand bucks. To make it fair, I give them each a hundred bucks just for participating."

"What a bizarre thing,.." Blake couldn't think of a word to describe his surprise. Dolores, who was working steadily on the cock, stopped for a second to say, "Jim, you're gonna have to raise the stakes. I'm not sure all this work is worth a hundred bucks." She resumed using her mouth to go over and around every part of Mr. Morris's balls and penis. Her long fingernails rested lightly on the scrotum as she rhythmically slid her mouth up and down the cock. She stopped again to say, "it's not as easy as you might think and it's definitely not luck. In the early rounds, we just do a basic job to get Jim aroused. Later, we have to be very careful not to get him to the point where he'll easily come for the next girl. You see, you have to decide whether to go all the way or not, and if you start an all out effort and you see it's not going to happen, then you had better cool him down real fast before the next girl comes, and then hope you get another chance in the next round. You have to be very quick and skillful since you only have about a minute until the next girl shows up."

As she finished saying this another model came up to them wearing a lilac crepe dress with braided trim at the neckline and empire waist. "Move over Dolores, let me at him."

"He's all yours Sylvia," Dolores said, "now I've got to run and get changed!"

Sylvia wrapped her hands around Mr. Morris's penis and lifted it up to her face. "You're such a pig Jim, letting Pamela watch this," she said, "let her go back to her seat."

"Sylvia, don't worry about Pamela. She's already joined the club."

Taking the penis out of her mouth, Sylvia asked, "no shit! Pamela, he got you to suck him off already?"

"He made me do it a few weeks ago," Blake said.

"Man alive, he spends half his time with his cock in some girl's mouth!"

She plunged her mouth down on the cock, took a mighty suck and then eased back out keeping just the sensitive head in her mouth. She must have been doing something really special with her tongue and lips, because Blake could see the organ start to pulse out to a full erection. Jim even let out a slight moan. In what seemed like just seconds, however, another woman appeared behind Sylvia and tapped her on the shoulder. Sylvia immediately let go of the cock and stood up.

"A thousand bucks is a thousand bucks. Jim knows how to motivate us girls. The pay for modeling this show is shit."

"Now, now Sylvia don't give Pamela the wrong impression. Someday she might want to do some modeling," Mr. Morris said.

As Sylvia ran off to get changed, Mr. Morris continued to explain to Blake what was happening. "You see it's part of the rules that you have to let go the moment you get tagged. If you hesitate just a second you're disqualified." Mr. Morris talked calmly to Blake, who wondered how he could concentrate on what he was saying since the next woman was vigorously sliding her head up and down on the shaft. She was wearing a black Shantung bodice dress, white full organza ballet length skirt, with black embroidered floral motif. Stopping for a second she said, "we're definitely starting to get somewhere Jim, but it's going to be a while yet!" She resumed her sliding motion, not too fast or too slow, evidently trying to get him aroused but not explosive.

In a minute a beautiful blonde woman appeared in a red Dupioni silk two piece outfit with V neckline blouse, silk flower pin, bodice pleat details, and full floor length skirt. She tapped the kneeling woman on the shoulder who let Jim's cock slide out of her mouth and then jumped up quickly to her feet. The blonde gracefully lifted her skirt and settled in between Jim's legs. She began kissing the penis and started sucking it very gently while running her hands over Mr. Morris's balls. The penis seemed to be getting very much solidly erect now.

Over the next few minutes, several more women appeared, and then Dolores was there again, now wearing a melon ice Dupioni silk two piece jacket with softly dipped neckline, knotted buttons down the front and short petal sleeves with full skirt. Blake had lost the exact count, but figured that there were about ten women altogether.

"Well how are we doing?" Dolores asked to the penis as she kneeled in front of it.

"It's really cookin!" Jim said. His face was flushed and he evidently was very much enjoying the action.

"Well, from the looks of it, your not going to blow off until the third round. I think I'll just stoke the fires a little bit, right now." She resumed her sucking very much as she had done during her first round, only this time the penis was staying fully erect and Jim appeared to be moaning almost continuously.

"Jesus, Dottie, you're the best!"

"Fuck you, Jim," she said as Sylvia came up to her wearing a white full organza ballet length skirt, with black embroidered floral motif. "He says the same thing to everybody," Sylvia said looking at Blake.

Sylvia examined Jim's swelled organ, "looking good, but I ain't going for the gold just yet. I think next round will just about be it."

"That's what Dolores said!" Blake exclaimed. He was getting excited by the action. It even crossed his mind that he would like to join in.

As if reading his mind, Mr. Morris said, "I'm sorry you can't join in, Pamela, but I would be happy to give you a private opportunity some time."

Blake blushed and tried to protest, but Mr. Morris said, "come, come Pamela, you know you'd really like it."

Another woman had appeared wearing an A-line dress with softly curved neckline, short sleeves and white silk chiffon ballet length skirt. "Mr. Morris," Blake said, "you're awfully conceited. Actually I find this whole thing to be preposterous!"

When Blake started to say something more, Mr. Morris indicated for him to be silent, "we're getting close to blast off, you better just watch from now on, so we don't shortchange anybody."

The newest woman was clearly undecided what strategy to take at this transitional phase, as she alternately sucked very hard and then stopped, trying to sense its reaction. "With a little bit of luck Jim, I'll get you the next round. You better save it for me or I'll cut it off."

Mr. Morris said, "you know I can't do that even if I wanted to!"

The woman then squeezed the penis hard and Blake saw a drop of precum rise up on the end. The woman licked it up saying, "OK Jim, I meant what I said!"

As the next woman came, she got up and said, "he's only just started to precum. It's still gonna be a while."

"Yeah, it takes awhile after the first precum before he starts oozing constantly. When he does, we know that we have to start thinking about the end game."

Mr. Morris was clearly no longer in a position to talk. His cock was bright red and extended, with each girl squeezing it hard to see if they could get some pre-cum from it. Blake could see the women getting more involved with each detail of their manipulation of the cock. The woman just ahead of Dolores came in a black satin dress with empire waistline. Taking stock of the situation as the model ahead of her was getting up, she said, "OK it's bingo time. You better shoot off for me!"

Jim couldn't mutter a reply. He was slumped back in the chair, with legs spread apart, under the control of his inflamed penis which pointed like a spear toward the rafters of the theater. This time as the woman positioned herself at Jim's feet, she had her head turned so one eye could look towards the direction where the next woman would come from.

She began a powerful display of sucking, putting the full penis deep in her throat and using both hands to vigorously squeeze and roll the balls while slapping Jim's buttocks. Her head went up and down in a series of motions leaving her an extra second or two to manipulate the sensitive end. Just as it seemed that Jim's cock was convulsing toward an orgasm, the woman could see the curtain rustling where Dolores would be coming from.

Instantly, she grabbed the base of the penis and gave a sharp bite to the soft flesh on Jim's abdomen. She then spanked him hard on his behind and growled, "you better save it for me you fucker!"

"Ouch!" he yelled, as Dolores came up and without wasting a word began plowing into the penis. Where the bite of the previous model had caused a slight sagging in the erection, Dolores' mouth caused it to rigidly snap back to attention. As she worked the cock like a machine, she kept one eye toward the curtain. As Jim moaned more and more deeply, she began licking the underside of the penis near the end, forcing the phallus down hard against her tongue.

Suddenly, with the first movement of the curtain she repeated the tactic of the previous woman and viciously grabbed the base of the cock and gave Jim a nasty pinch on the buttocks. He yelled in pain and as she got up she gave the cock a parting squeeze just as Sylvia came up to them. She got down between his legs and frantically worked the cock with her tongue, while her hands kneaded the balls.

The spectacle had Blake mesmerized as he got caught up in the tension as to which of the women would win the thousand dollars. From the look on Jim's face and the condition of his penis, Blake couldn't imagine that he wouldn't come any second now and he found himself inwardly rooting for Sylvia to get the winning orgasm. Inside his dress he realized that he had developed an erection of his own which luckily wouldn't show under the wide skirt of the sundress. He wished he could help Sylvia somehow, but stayed away so as not to risk disqualifying her.

Once again, he saw Sylvia stop suddenly when her sharp eyes picked up movement in the curtain. She gave Jim a vicious squeeze on his balls causing him to shriek and then put a viselike lock on the base of his prick until the exact second when the next woman came. Blake couldn't see how Jim could last any longer, he was nearly in a dead faint, alternating between intense moans and sudden cries of pain. In fact, six more girls came and went, until it was the turn of a blonde model named Audrey who was two before Dolores in the rotation. While standing over Jim, she placed her mouth over his cock and fell down all the way to the shaft and then rapidly back up again. She repeated this motion again and again as if her face was a vagina. By the tenth time it was clear that Jim was done for. His body began convulsing and his penis thrust out anticipating Audrey's next swallow. As she bore down on him, Jim screamed with pleasure, so loud that it would certainly have been heard in the auditorium, if it weren't for the music accompanying the show. Jim's cock squirted semen up onto Audrey's mouth, on her face and in the air. Blake let out a small cheer of excitement and congratulations to Audrey, who quickly got up and said, "that'll be a thousand big ones Jim." They were then joined by the next model who said, "shit, Audrey, you're too damn good!"

"Sorry dear, maybe next week. I think I just drew a good position."

"Jim, you've got to raise the booby prizes. A hundred bucks is hardly worth the effort," the losing model said.

Jim was just now coming to his senses after the explosive orgasm. His stomach and pubic hair was covered by a huge puddle of cum. "How about I give you fifty bucks if you clean me up with your mouth?" he said to the model.

"What a shit you are! Make it a hundred."

"OK," he said and the woman got down next to him and lapped up the cum. Just then Dolores reappeared and after Audrey explained what was happening, she too got Jim to agree to an extra hundred dollars for cleaning him off. Blake watched the two women licking Jim's stomach and genitals and in an odd way he felt jealous. Though his mind told him it was the worst sort of sexism, he nonetheless felt excited by the purely animalistic behavior of the women.

The models finished their job and left to change into their last dresses. Blake said, "I don't know how you can get away with treating women like you do."

"Come help me get dressed," Jim said ignoring his remark. Blake felt a twinge of anger and humiliation but also felt like his womanhood was being challenged, so, while Mr. Morris pulled his underwear up his leg, Blake guided the soft penis into it and then pulled up Mr. Morris' pants as he stood up.

"As I said, Pamela, you can suck on it any time you want. Just give me a call."

"Mr. Morris, you just spent like two thousand dollars for that blow job, how much will you pay me?"

"Pamela, you're not a whore. Why are you talking like that?"

"I could really use the money, that's why! You remember you told me that you might help me become truly Pamela?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, since I first met you I've decided to really become a girl. Even my mom knows about me and is OK about it."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"But you know, my family isn't very rich or anything and I would really like to, you know, become a lot more like Pamela."

Mr. Morris looked puzzled and Blake blurted out, "I would really love it if you could pay for my having some breasts implanted. Like maybe B or C cups I think would be nice with my figure. They cost about five thousand dollars I think. If I couldn't get them from you I might have to wait years until I can afford them. And of course I would let you feel them or kiss them if you wanted to, I guess as long as I wasn't married or going steady." Blake sounded like he was pleading for help and it touched Mr. Morris. He put his arms around him. "My dear Pamela, I would love nothing more than to help you out. Five thousand is chump change for me. Jesus, I earn that in one hour at the TV station. Look, I'll even get my secretary to research the best plastic surgeon in town, and as soon as you want, you go get it done, on me!"

Blake put his arms around Mr. Morris and hugged him tight. "Mr. Morris you're too wonderful. Just as soon as my Dad knows and everything is OK I'll contact you. My mom and I are hoping I can go to school in the fall as a girl, so maybe this summer I could have the surgery!"

"Only too glad to help out. However, I really hope you'll be able to visit me at the station every so often, if you know what I mean. Here's my card." Blake knew exactly what he meant but didn't mind. It wasn't much work giving Mr. Morris blow jobs and he stood to benefit a lot.

Mr. Morris stood up and looked at his watch. "A little after twelve, I have to get ready to finish up the show."

Not believing his ears, Blake cried out, "after twelve? Did you say it's after twelve?"

"Yes."

"My God! I can't believe the time! I've got to run! How can I get to the main lobby from here?" he implored Mr. Morris.

"I'm not sure. There must be a way through the dressing room. Go through there." He pointed to the door through which the models had been going after leaving Mr. Morris.

Without looking back, Blake ran to the door which led to a corridor. Following it, he ended up in the dressing room where the models changed outfits for the show. Dolores stood in front of a mirror taking off her bra, when Blake ran up to her. "How can I get to the main lobby from here?" he said anxiously.

"I'm not sure Pamela. That door leads outside," she said pointing to a door with an exit light over it.

Blake ran to it, pushed it open and found himself on the street on the side of the theater. After getting his bearings, he ran up the block toward the main entrance hoping to find his mom and Janice waiting for him, but they were nowhere in sight. He ran into the theater lobby and knocked on the door of the manager's office. It was locked and no one answered. He figured that Mrs. Parker must be watching the show.

Blake had to pee terribly and decided to use the ladies room hoping that someone would return to the office by the time he was done. He entered a stall, lifted the sundress, pulled down his panties and sat on the seat trying to pee. Nothing would come out. He tried and tried, and though his bladder ached, he was so nervous he couldn't go. He got up, got dressed and ran out back into the lobby. No one was around. A large clock in the lobby showed that it was 12:15. He ran to the back of the theater and squinted around in the dark looking for an usher. Up on the runway the pretty blonde model was strutting around in a gorgeous white dress and he could see that Mr. Morris had rejoined Mimi at the podium.

Blake's agitation caused a woman seated nearby to get up and approach him. It was the ticket taker. Blake excitedly whispered to her that he had to change back to his clothes and the manager's office was locked. The woman told him to wait a minute while she went down the aisle into the dark and kneeled down to speak to someone sitting in an aisle seat. After what seemed an eternity Blake saw the manager come walking towards him.

Out in the lobby, he said, "I'm terribly sorry, but I've got to meet someone and I'm late."

"You could keep the sundress, dear, if you want it."

"Thank you, I do love it, but I've got to be back to being a boy I'm afraid."

"OK, whatever," and she led him back to the office. Blake ran inside and quickly changed back into his jeans and shirt while the woman watched.

"I'll come back for the dress sometime, I really like it," Blake said. He was about to rush out the door, when the woman said, "I don't suppose you would want to take off your lipstick, would you?"

"Oh my God!" Blake said, and he furiously wiping it off with his fingers.

"You're just smearing it around your face. Here, let me help you." She used a tissue to remove the lipstick. "OK, I think you're all set."

"I can't thank you enough," Blake said and ran off. Crossing the lobby he saw that it was 12:20.

Outside again, he was disappointed to still not find Janice or his mom. He couldn't imagine that they wouldn't wait for him; on the other hand it was so late, that they might have already gone to see Ann. Unable to make up his mind he ran back and forth up the block hoping to catch a glimpse of them. A sharp pang of anxiety shot through the pit of his stomach and inflamed his already swollen bladder. Every step he felt it would burst. He ran down another block and still couldn't decide what to do.
 

 
At Kathy's house, the Girls-Only Club members were almost fully dressed. They had been helping each other put their bridesmaid dresses on, fastening the back zip and making sure the skirts rested correctly on the layers of crinolines. As they congregated in Kathy's room taking turns in front of the mirror touching up their make-up and hair, Kathy said, "where in the world is Pamela? It's already almost twenty past. How is she ever going to get ready in time?"

"I'm really starting to worry," Penny said, "it's so unlike her to be late."

"And especially for the wedding day. She's been just dying to wear her bridesmaid dress!" Janet added.

"It's still a little early to worry that much," Amy said trying to sound confident. "I'm sure it's just some minor problem."

"You don't think we should call her home?" Kathy said.

"Let's give her five more minutes," Karen said.

While they continued to get ready, they couldn't help but worry that Blake might be in some sort of trouble. A few minutes later, Mrs. O'Connor came across the hall from her room. She was still in her slip, and her make-up was partially completed. "Any sign of Pamela?" she asked the girls.

"None!" Kathy said with obvious alarm.

"Mrs. O'Connor, I think we ought to call her house and find out what's happening."

"Good idea," Mrs. O'Connor said, and she dialed Blake's number from the phone in Kathy's room.

The girls gathered around her to listen. After a minute Mrs. O'Connor hung up the receiver saying, "No answer. I suppose that's a good sign, it could mean that she's on her way. When she comes in, however, we'll have to help her get dressed as fast as possible."
 

 
With each step jarring his overloaded bladder, Blake walked and ran back and forth up the blocks surrounding the theater. There was no sign of his mom and he was in a state of panic. In the distance the clock on top of the bank building tower said that it was almost 12:30. Behind him he saw the girls were starting to exit the McClintock show. "I should have just run to the weight lifting event," he thought as he agonized over the situation. Tears filled his eyes and he felt anxious thinking about how the girls must be worried to death about him, or maybe even furiously angry.

He finally decided to go to the weight lifting arena, but he knew that first he had better relieve his bladder or else he would have an accident. He headed against the current of girls back into the pavilion and without thinking headed to the ladies room. Inside he saw that there was a long line waiting for the stalls. The women ahead of him starred at him with surprise. Blake couldn't figure out what the problem was until he realized that he wasn't wearing the sundress anymore. Turning to leave he ran right into Valerie.

"Pamela, what happened to you?"

"I can't explain, Valerie, I've got to run, I'm late for the wedding. I'll tell you in school!" With that he ran out of the ladies room and into the men's room next door. It was empty, but he went to a stall anyway since he no longer felt comfortable standing up to pee. The pressure on his bladder was so intense that it gave him an erection as he sat trying to pee. He tried to think of various mundane subjects to soften it a bit and finally a little pee came out. Just when it was about to turn into a flood, his penis hardened again and then he had to again turn his mind away from his anxiety at being late. This caused some more pee to come out and then abruptly it stopped. He was now absolutely beside himself with panic and began crying. Through his tears he looked down on his panties, his penis stiffened again and then, as had happened at Kathy's house a few weeks earlier, it began uncontrollably spurting semen. It would now take several minutes until he could pee again, so he pulled up his panties and jeans and decided to just run to the weight lifting exhibit and worry about finishing his peeing later.

When he got to the weight lifting exhibit, to his overwhelming relief he saw his mom and Janice standing with his dad, Barry and Ann at the back of the hall. When his mom saw him she said, "where in the world were you?"

"You missed seeing Ann win the competition!" his dad said.

"You're going to be late for the wedding!" Janice added.

"I know, I know, I know," Blake exclaimed, "I'll explain it in the car! Can we go now?"

"Thanks a lot for rooting for me," Ann said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry Ann, I was intending to come, I mean I really wanted to come, but it wasn't my fault I missed it." He was lying now, but he would say anything just to get everyone walking toward the car. "I'm so sorry, there was no clock in the hall and I was sitting with Valerie and some friends from school and I kept asking them for the time, and I guess their wrist watch was an hour off. You know the time changed last weekend and I guess Valerie forgot to change it. I did think the show was kind of long, but she kept reassuring me she had the right time. Can we go now to the car?"

"It sounds like a lot of BS to me," Ann said.

"I'm really disappointed in you, Blake," his dad said. "Besides the fact that you lost all track of time watching a fashion show, this competition really meant a lot to your sister and you missed her incredible performance."

"I know dad, I feel just awful. If there was anything I could do to make it up to her, I'd be happy to."

"Well, to tell you the truth, they're going to have the award ceremony where they present Ann with a trophy in a few minutes. Let us stay for this and then we'll get you to Kathy's house."

"But that'll push the time to after 1 O'clock!"

"Blake, you'll still be able to get ready, and it will be a nice gesture to Ann."

"Yeah, Blake, it's about time you did something nice for me, instead of thinking of your self all the time."

"Ask me to do anything else except this! All the girls and Mrs. O'Connor and Beth are all going to be worrying to death about me! Please, please, Ann, let us go now!"

"Screw you, Blake," Ann said, and Blake fought back tears welling up in his eyes.

"Blake!" his dad said, shaking his head.

His mom rushed over and put her arm around him causing him to sob. People sitting nearby in the stands turned their heads to observe Blake. His mom said, "dear, we promised Blake we'd get him to Kathy's by 12:30, and it's now getting on to one. While we're proud of Ann, we really should get moving for Blake's sake. I'm sure Mrs. O'Connor must be frantic wondering where he is."

"Oh, Jesus in heaven!" his dad said, "c'mon Ann, I guess we do have to go, even if Blake screwed up. We should have taken two cars. Anyway, we can come back to pick up the trophy after we drop Blake off."

"But dad if I leave now, they'll give the trophy to someone else."

"They'll hold it for you, I'm sure."

"They won't dad."

"I'm sorry, Ann, but we have to go."

With obvious resentment, Ann turned and followed the rest of the family out the door heading to the car. Blake was glad that Ann didn't put up a bigger fight. Hopefully, once he got to Kathy's house, he would be able to get his dress on in just a minute or two so the wedding party would not have to wait long for him. Blake tried not to show his impatience at the snail's pace with which they walked to the car. Clearly, Ann was slowing them down on purpose, but there was nothing he could do about it.

When they got to the car Blake quickly took a seat in the back, while Ann took forever getting her stuff together and finally getting in. His dad started the engine and they took off in the direction of Kathy's house.

Ann sat sulking in the back looking out the window. Suddenly she turned to Blake saying, "so Blake, did you find a nice dress to wear to the prom?"

Barry laughed and even Blake's dad couldn't suppress a snicker.

"Ann!" her mom rebuked, "that's uncalled for."

"Answer me Blake!"

"There were some dresses I liked and Valerie and the other girls were very glad to hear my opinion about them," Blake said hoping that Ann would stop trying to tease him.

"How much weight do you think that you could lift Blake?" Ann said.

"I don't know."

"Ten pounds?"

"Ann!"

"As much as me?"

"Of course not, Ann, you know that you work out and I don't."

"I can't believe my older brother is such a sissy. I bet they wouldn't even let you into a girl's weight-lifting competition."

Blake was scared of the direction to which Ann was leading the conversation. "I don't know, Ann, do they even have such contests?"

"What are you implying? That I'm some sort of freak?"

"Of course not Ann."

"No more a freak than you going to watch a fashion show, and sit there with the other girls discussing which dresses you like."

"Ann, I've told you many times to not talk that way to your brother!" her mom scolded her.

"Do you also offer advice on picking out bras and panties?"

"Ann!" her mother said sharply from the front seat.

"Ann, please stop teasing me. You know that if I didn't have the wedding I would love to see you get the trophy."

"You could have waited two more minutes."

"But I'm already very late."

"I can't believe that I had to give that up so you can go off to this stupid wedding."

"It's not stupid." As soon as he said it, Blake realized that he should have held his tongue: a fundamental rule of their new relationship was that he never contradict her.

"Blake, what did I say about contradicting me?"

"I'm sorry Ann, it was stupid of me."

Overhearing this exchange, Blake's dad interrupted, "Blake, I don't understand why you're so afraid of Ann."

There was silence as Blake didn't know what to say. If he said he was afraid, his dad would be mad at him. If he said he wasn't Ann would kill him.

"Well, Blake, answer me. Why are you so afraid of Ann?"

He decided to take a chance that Ann would only hurt him some other time and said "I'm not afraid of her."

As soon as he said it, the look on Ann's face told him he had made the wrong choice. "Oh, yeah?" she said, and in an instant she had grabbed his arms and forced him down on the seat. In a rage she said, "I'm so sick of you and your stupid little girly shit."

"Ann!" Blake's mother cut in.

"Stupid little fairy princess. I gave up that trophy for Blake and his stupid wedding."

"I don't care, Ann. Watch your language or you're going to be one sorry young lady," her dad said.

Fuming, Ann released Blake and went back to her side of the seat. After a minute she said, "I don't know why you call me the young lady, dad. Blake's the one wearing a bra and panties."

Blake froze and nearly passed out with fright. He looked at Ann with pleading eyes. "What do you mean by that remark?" his dad said, puzzled.

Looking directly at Blake with a smirk she said, "exactly what I said. Blake's been wearing girls' underwear for weeks now. Why do you think he spends so much time with those girls. They made him a member of the Girls-Only Club cause he now pretends he's a girl all the time."

Blake's mom and Janice sat still with their faces turning red. His mom was only able to muster a faint, "Ann! Why are you making up such nonsense?"

The pace of the car was slowing and Barry turned around to look back at Blake and Ann. Blake said, "Dad, she's lying!" but Ann reached over, grabbed his shirt and lifted it.

"Oh, shit, dad!" Barry said incredulously, "Ann's right. Blake's wearing a bra!" The car swerved to the side of the road and stopped suddenly as his Dad jammed on the brakes. Turning around to look for himself he said, "holy shit Blake! What the fuck is going on?"

"Your language dear!" his mom said.

Blake started to cry and Ann said, "see he's wearing panties too" and she pulled down the side of his pants revealing the lacy elastic band of his panties.

Through his sobs Blake said, "Dad, I can explain," but his dad was not listening.

"The first thing I'm going to do is take you home and whip the shit out of your backside. Then you're going straight to a psychiatrist."

"But the wedding!"

"Fuck the wedding! You're not going to any fucking wedding."

"Dad!" Janice said.

"Dear!" his mom said, "you can't."

"Oh can't I?" his dad said, and with that, he started up the car and drove off burning rubber toward their house.

 
 

End Part V
 
 
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