The Girls of Summer: 1

 

Just as summer vacation begins, Hunter's family discovers that he's been hiding two very big secrets.
I hope that everyone is healthy and happy in this very challenging world. Here's a little bit of sweet
fluff that, hopefully, will make you feel better as the story goes on.

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Author's Note: Looking forward to your critiques for this story!! ~Clara.
 
This version of The Girls of Summer: 1 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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Chapter 1
 

"It's not the end of the world, sweetheart." Joyce smiled as warmly as she could while she drove along the highway, heading home from the doctor's office. "Dr Clement said that it will probably clear up on its own in a few years."

"Yeah... 'probably,'" Hunter said, shaking his head. "She said that it would 'PROBABLY' clear up, but how do we KNOW it will?"

She reached over from the driver's seat and patted his arm. "Then Dr Clement will advise us as to how to proceed from there."

Hunter shook his head and looked out the window. "This just sucks."

"Alright, I think it's time that we stop being quite this dramatic, Hunter. You're not the first boy to have this kind of a situation. It's just a hormonal imbalance. Lots of boys have it."

"Yeah, well, I've never met another boy with tits like mine." Hunter folded his arms and tried to lessen the size of the breasts that had been developing on his chest.

"Hey!" Joyce snapped and she laid a soft backhanded tap on her stepson's left cheek. "That is a demeaning and disrespectful word, young man, and I will not have you refer to a beautiful part of the human body in such a way. Not when you're talking about me, or your sister, or any other woman - and especially not when you're talking about yourself. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, knowing that the tap he'd just received was probably the most severe corporal punishment that his stepmom would ever impose on him.

"Now, this isn't the end of the world. Half the population of the world - well, apparently more than that, according to Dr Clement - develop breasts, Hunter. And besides, Dr Clement said that you just need to stop trying to hide them, keep them clean and the rash will go away."

"Great!" Hunter said, with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Joyce heard her stepson sniffled a little and her heart sank. "Alright, sweetie... what's really the problem?"

"Mom," he sniffled again, "you don't get it. I already have bigger t... breasts," God, he hated that word, "than almost any of the girls in my class."

"Oh, now, I'm sure that's not true..."

"Yes, it is, mom! I swear to God, it's true! I was really looking forward to next year... going to the middle/high school and being able to do sports, but... now I can't. I can't run track because these things bounce like crazy when I run... I can't play baseball because when I swing, they swing with me - and it hurts like hell... and that's what sucks the most, because until last September, I was the one of the best ball players in my age group at the Y. Now, I can't even swing a bat without hurting myself."

Joyce sighed. "I know. I know." She thought for a moment, then said, "I can't really offer any advice about the ball team, Hunter, but... now, hear me out and don't get mad... if you would just consider - JUST CONSIDER - a sports bra..."

"NO!"

"... Hunter, who would know!? And then you'd be able to play baseball and maybe run track."

"No! No! No! NO!" The boy was emphatic.

"No one would know, sweetheart."

"Bull shit!"

"Hey! Language!" Joyce was ticked off. She had strict rules about language.

"Mom, come on! I'm in class with girls all the time. I can tell when they're wearing bras, mom! I can see the outlines through their clothes, no matter how dark the clothes are. And besides, I've looked at those bra online and, yeah, they seem to keep the girls' tits still..."

"Hunter!"

"...but they make it really obvious that the girls have breasts. Everything is like... pushed... and gathered... like... up here and... just... no."

"Alright." Joyce shook her head. "Look, sweetheart, I don't want to fight. I know you've had a tough day, but you were brought up to speak respectfully to adults. I will not be spoken to in the manner you've been carrying on. If this continues, then I will have to speak to your father about this. Understood?"

Hunter took a deep breath and calmed down. "Alright, mom. I'm sorry. I'm just..." he shrugged and took another deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Just then, Joyce's phone rang and the Bluetooth connection on the car's radio displayed the caller's name. It was her husband, Bob. Hunter's father. Joyce pushed the 'accept' button on the radio display and answered the call.

"Hi, Bob," she said.

"Hey, babe," Bob's voice said. "How did things go with the doctor?"

Joyce didn't look at her stepson. She knew he didn't want to rehash the doctor's visit at this time, but the boy's father deserved to know what was said.

"Well, it's pretty much what we expected. He's got a very severe case of gynecomastia and, just like the online resources stated, he should out grow it in time."

"How long is 'in time?'" Bob asked.

Joyce took a breath and explained. "Well... it could be a few months, or... it could be a few years. She said that if he doesn't develop correctly by the time he's seventeen or eighteen, then she'd consider other treatments like... surgery... or hormonal supplements."

"Jesus..." Bob huffed on the other end of the line, seemingly unaware that his son could hear him. "Joyce, he's only twelve, now. Christ almighty, he's already bigger than Mary Ellen was at fourteen. What if he gets as big as his mother was? How can he go through high school like that?"

Joyce shot Hunter a glance. She was never thrilled to have Bob bring up his poor, sainted, departed first wife, but she had been a very statuesque woman. The kind of women with the natural curves and perfect deportment that other women envied. Joyce knew her pretty well and liked her a lot. They'd been neighbors and Kate, that was her name, Kate, had been a good friend when Joyce had divorced her first husband. That was when, Joyce's daughter, Mary Ellen, was still an infant. Sadly, Kate had passed away from a very aggressive cancer not long after Hunter's birth. In fact, they'd only found the cancer because of blood work that they'd done as part of her prenatal health regime. Poor Katie had been faced with a choice - Abort the child and begin her cancer treatment, or postpone the treatment and carry the child to term, which, of course, would carry a lot of risks. Kate chose the latter and the cancer destroyed her body by the time Hunter was born. She died a few weeks later.

Joyce had stepped up to help Bob with his infant son and within a year, Joyce and Bob had decided that their friendship and their new found desire to be together were good reasons for them to team up and become a family. It wasn't the most romantic courtship, but it was a very happy marriage and the kids even got along pretty darned well.

"I guess we'll just have to hope for the best." Joyce sighed.

"What about the rash?" Bob asked, referring to the very irritated area around the bottom and sides of Hunter's new breasts.

Joyce shook her head. She knew last night why the boy had that rash and she'd already told her husband what had caused it, but he wanted a doctor to confirm everything. "Just as I told you last night," she said, with a bit of attitude, "it was caused by Hunter wearing that filthy ace bandage day and night. It pushed his breasts flat against his chest, but it created areas that caught sweat and because he never put the damned thing into the laundry, it was filled with bacteria. He just suffered his first case of 'Sweaty Boob Rash.' Every girl who hasn't changed her bra everyday has suffered the same problem. He just needs to wash better and stop wearing that foolish thing."

"Did she say anything about having him wear a bra?" Hunter's father asked, causing Hunter to groan.

"As a matter of fact, she did," Joyce said, ignoring Hunter's dramatics. "She said that he's probably already a large 'B' cup and we should look into getting him something to support them in order to avoid stretch marks and keep his breasts from sagging. So far, Hunter isn't very receptive to that, though," Hunter grunted and shook his head, "so we're going to have to get some plain camis for him to wear to keep that rash away."

"Am I on speaker?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, dad, you are," Hunter said, sullenly.

"Oh... hey, pal. Sorry. I didn't realize that." Bob was obviously embarrassed about talking so freely about his son's condition within earshot.

"I'm not wearing a bra, dad," Hunter said, still staring out the window, "and I'm not sure what a cami is, but if they are girly, I'm not wearing one of those, either."

"Alright, buddy," Bob's voice said. "Just stay calm and remember that whatever Dr Clement suggested is for your own good. I understand that you DON'T WANT to wear a bra, but if your mom says that you need a camisole, then that's the end of the conversation. You'll do what she says. End of story. Got me?"

Hunter shook his head. "Dad... I'm not going to..."

"Hunter!" Bob said, tersely. "You're twelve years old. Your mother and I will discuss things and you will follow our instructions? Is that clear? Look what happened when you tried to do things on your own. You ended up with a rash so bad that it ended up causing cuts on your chest. Right now, your health is more important than your vanity. What mom says, goes. Any questions?"

"No, sir." Hunter shook his head again.

"Alright, then," Bob said and he went silent for a moment. "Ok, guys, why don't we put this on hold for now and we'll all talk when I get home."

"Dad?" Hunter asked.

"Yeah, pal?"

"What... what about camp, dad? I mean, school is out and I'm supposed to go to baseball camp in like ten days."

"We'll figure that out, pal," his father said, sounding a bit sad.

"Dad..." Hunter looked at the radio display as if it was his father's face. "... I... I don't want to go, now, dad. Please. Don't make me go."

There was a moment of silence. Bob knew that his son had been looking forward to baseball camp since they signed him up for it back in December as part of his Christmas presents. "I won't make you go," Bob finally said, "but... let's talk about it before we cancel everything. Ok?"

Hunter just nodded, as if his father could see him.

"Ok, Bob," Joyce said to her husband. "We'll see you tonight."

"Ok," Bob agreed. "See you tonight." The call ended.
 

~^~
 

Mary Ellen had just gotten out of their large, built-in pool and was about to sit on the lounge chair when she heard her mother and brother come in to the house. "Hi! I'm on the patio!" She called into the house through the sliding door.

A few minutes later, Joyce came out onto the patio, shaking her head.

"How did it go?" Mary Ellen asked.

Joyce sat on the dry lounge chair next to her daughter. "About as well as could be expected, I guess. Dr Clement basically confirmed what we thought. Hunter has a case of gynecomastia and he's going to have to just deal with it for now."

"And he's ok with that?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Joyce laughed, "he is definitely NOT ok with that, but there's nothing we can do about it for now, so..." She shrugged. "I think we'll just need to be patient with him for a while. Maybe be a little extra nice to him for the next few weeks, ok?"

"Yeah, of course." Mary Ellen nodded. "Did the doctor say anything about him needing a bra or anything."

Joyce nodded. "She was particularly adamant about him requiring a sports bra if he's doing anything athletic. She told him not to think of it as a bra, but as another kind of athletic supporter."

"And?"

Joyce glanced up at the window to her stepson's room to be sure it was closed. "He cried," she said quietly.

"Oh, the poor kid," Mary Ellen said, sympathetically. "Did they measure him?"

In fact, it had been Mary Ellen who had accidentally walked in on her stepbrother the previous afternoon and found him shirtless and checking out his rash in the bathroom mirror. When she saw the size of his breasts and the severity of his rash, she had no choice but to tell her mother.

Joyce nodded. "He's at least a 31B, leaning a little towards a larger cup size. He may actually be a C cup in some bras. We'd need to try on some or take him for a fitting to be sure. It doesn't matter, though. I don't think I'll ever get him to wear one."

"But, mom, if this goes on for a long time, or if he gets bigger..."

"I know. I guess we'll just have to take things one step at a time and hope for the best."

Mary Ellen nodded. "I guess." She thought for a moment. "Geez, I never expected my little brother to have breasts as big as mine."

"Probably not the most helpful observation," Joyce said. "In fact, it might be best not to ever mention that to him. He's pretty sensitive about everything right now and, well, if you were to tell him that you were the same size and he actually looked at you like you were a girl, instead of his sister, he might have a heart attack right then and there."

Mary Ellen smiled. She knew what she looked like. She was thin and athletic and had a tight, well toned body that looked great in a bathing suit or a pretty dress. "Well, he's not 'the same size' as me. He's still like over a foot shorter than me."

Joyce smirked. "Which makes his breasts look even bigger on that little body."

"True," Mary Ellen acknowledged.

Joyce looked up at the bedroom window again. "Now, we have to figure out how to get him to get out of his room and get back to being Hunter. I was hoping to get him into the pool this afternoon. It would help his rash to get into the water and soak for a bit. The sun would help, too."

"I'll go talk to him."
 

~^~
 

"Bob?" The project director asked for the second time. "Hey? Bob?"

"Huh? What?" Bob asked, confused for a moment.

"Are you ok?"

Bob looked at his colleague and shook himself back to reality. "Oh... sorry."

Veronica looked at Bob and concern passed across her face. "Is everything ok, Bob?"

Bob looked around and shrugged. He'd known Veronica for more than twenty years and he considered her one of his closest friends, even though they only really hung out outside of work a few times a year and that was usually work related, too. "I don't know, Ronnie... The boy is having some health issues."

"Oh, no! Bob... is it serious? Is he going to be ok?"

"Serious?" Bob shrugged, "In the great scheme of things, I suppose not, but it's pretty serious to Hunter. He's pretty cut up about it."

"Oh, my God, Bob. What is it?"

Bob gave her a quick update on what he knew from looking things up on the internet and his conversation with Joyce.

"Breasts!?" Veronica asked, shocked. "Little Hunter is growing breasts?"

"He is," he said, shaking his head, "but his breasts are not quite as little as 'little Hunter.' He's kept them bound so we didn't know until last night and... Ronnie... my son had a pretty damned healthy pair of boobies on his chest. He says he's bigger than any of the girls in his sixth grade class and, to be very honest, I believe him. If he was my daughter, I'd be nervous about him attracting 'the wrong kind' of attention. As is, with him being my son, I'm just nervous he'll attract any kind of attention at all."

"Wow... Bob... I'm so sorry. I hope that everything works out for Hunter. I feel terrible that he's going to miss out on his baseball camp. The poor kid. I know that my Wanda looks forward to her softball and cheer camps every year. She'd be devastated if she lost out on those."

Bob nodded. "Well, I think I'm going to have to leave it up to The Boy to make that decision, though. I'd hate to force him to go and have him end up in an embarrassing situation. He's always been a bit of wallflower - never taking the initiative to make friends. Camp kind of forced him to interact with the other kids, but... if those interactions are mean or unwanted... Like I said, we'll let him decide."
 

~^~
 

Mary Ellen tapped gently on her stepbrother's bedroom door. "Hunter? Can I come in?"

There was no response, so she gently pushed the door open and peaked inside. Hunter was laying on his bed with his back to the door. She walked in as quietly as she could and she sat on the bed, rubbing his arm.

"Hey," she said, quietly. "How are you doing?"

He shrugged, but said nothing.

She petted his arm a bit longer and then he asked, "Did mom tell you everything?"

"Yeah," she said.

"So, you know that my boobies are going to get bigger, right?"

That made her smile, just a little. She knew he was upset, but the way he said 'boobies' made him seem even younger than he was. "She said that MAYBE they'd get bigger and MAYBE they'd stop growing soon."

Hunter shook his head. "You didn't hear the way the doctor told her the news, Mae. She made it sound like I should get ready to work at that restaurant over by the football stadium. You know the one I mean? The one with the owl on the sign?"

"Oh, Hooters?" Mary Ellen said, then realized that she'd fallen into Hunter's trap to have her say the name and not him.

"Yeah. In a couple of years, you and your friends can go to Hooters and I'll be working as a waitress there. I'll be happy to serve you."

"Oh, stop it." Mary Ellen laughed, knowing that laughing was what he'd intended for her to do. "You're just feeling sorry for yourself. Come on... let's go swimming."

Hunter's head swung towards her. "Are you nuts!? I'm not going outside without a shirt on! You saw my tits last night and almost had a heart attack! What if my friends saw me like this?"

'Friends' seemed like a odd word for Hunter to use. He was a bit of a loner. Not ever getting too friendly with anyone from school or the neighborhood. Mary Ellen always assumed it was because he was so much smaller than his classmates. At twelve years old, he should be at least five feet tall, but he was only forty nine or fifty inches tall, max. She wasn't entirely sure of his height, recently, they were having some work done in their kitchen and Hunter was standing next to a four-foot by eight-foot piece of plywood that was leaning on the wall on its side and she realized that Hunter's head was barely taller than the four-foot tall piece of wood.

"I wasn't suggesting that you go shirtless," Mary Ellen said, a bit sternly. "Wear a tee shirt. Who cares. But you need to get out and get some air and the doctor says that soaking in the pool will be good for your rash. Besides, it's hot out. The pool is the best place to be on a day like this."

She got up and pulled his swim trunks off of a pile of laundry that was sitting on his desk. When she returned to the bed, he hadn't moved, so she grabbed his legs and pulled him towards the foot of the bed, placing him on his back in the process. Then, before he could say a word, she grabbed a hold of the basketball trunks he was wearing and the boxers beneath them and pulled them completely off his body.

"Hey!" He screamed while covering up his still hairless penis. "What do you think you're doing!?"

"Helping you to get ready for the pool." Mary Ellen laughed. "And you don't need to cover you dingus, Dingus. I've seen it before. I used to change your diapers, you know."

Then she held up his swim trunks, just above his reach.

"Come on," he said, while still trying to keep himself covered. "Give me those."

"On two conditions," she said, with the kind of superior smile that only an older sister can pull off. "One - you agree to come swimming in the pool with me."

"Ok," he agreed. "What's the second condition."

"You never, ever refer to your breasts or anyone else's as 'tits' ever again."

"Deal."

Mary Ellen smiled. Then, instead of handing him his trunks, she threaded his legs through the holes and guided the trunks up his legs as if he was a child.

When she was leaning over him, Hunter couldn't help but notice how beautiful his stepsister had become and how nicely her breasts were displayed in her swim suit. "Hey," he said, quietly as she busied herself with dressing him, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she smiled.

"Do you ever get used to those?"

She giggled as she pulled the waistband over his rump. "My 'boobies'?" she laughed.

Hunter turned a bit red at her giggling. "Yeah."

She stood straight and looked down at her body. "Yeah. I'm used to them. In fact, I like them. I like them a lot. Don't you?"

He shrugged. "On you, sure, but on me... not so much."

Mary Ellen laughed, then went to the the bureau and grabbed a white, sleeveless tee shirt and helped her stepbrother stand up. As if in a trance, he held up his arms and let her pull his cartoon-tee off of him. Then she pulled the ribbed, sleeveless tee over his head. She took a very close look at his breasts as she lowered the sleeveless tee over his arms and head. She did take note of the fact that his breasts didn't really look a lot like the breasts on the men on the gynecomastia information sites. Those men had typical, small, male nipples. Hunter's nipples were pink and plump, though. Like hers had been when she was starting puberty. Maybe that was because the men in the pictures were all older, though and had a lot of testosterone in them. Hunter was still a kid. He probably didn't have enough male hormone in his system to keep his nipples little.

When she'd settled the tee shirt on him, she took note of the fact that it really did not do a very good job of hiding his new assets. In fact, it kind of clung to him in a very female manner. Oh, well...

Without any discussion, Mary Ellen turned and took Hunter's hand. "Come on. Let's go swimming."
 

~^~
 

Bob and Joyce sat at the kitchen counter and spoke quietly.

"Do you think that you can find a camisole that won't look too girlish for him?" Bob asked. "I mean... I understand that the doctor wants him to be wearing appropriate clothing that will offer him some protection and maybe some support, but if they look too girly... I just don't think that he'll wear it."

"I don't know," Joyce said, raising her eyebrows. "There are plenty of girls and women that don't love silk and lace. They must make camis for them, right? I'll take a ride to Walmart or Target after dinner and see what I can find. Do you want to come with me and see if you can help me find some masculine lingerie?" She chuckled at her little joke.

"Sure," Bob said. "You know, I was talking to Ronnie about this situation and she was saying that her daughter - you know, Wanda? - well, Wanda buys this kind of Spandex undergarments that she wears while playing softball and cheering. She says it's very plain and very supportive. She buys it at Ray's Sporting Goods over by the college. Maybe we should take a look there, too."

Joyce looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Well... ok, but... do you really think it's a good idea for you to be telling Veronica about this? I mean, Wanda's only a year or so older than Hunter. They're kinda friendly, right? They'll even be going to the same school next year. I'm not sure that talking about Hunter's medical issues with the mother of his friend is a great idea. What if she says something to Wanda and she says something to a friend, and... You see what I'm saying, right?"

"I do," Bob nodded, "but I think that Ronnie will be discreet about it. She's a parent, too. She'd expect us to be discreet if the shoe was on the other foot."

"Ok," Joyce conceded, "but going forward, let's just keep things between us. Ok?"

Bob nodded. She was right. "Ok. Sorry. I just needed to get some things off my chest and there was no one else at work that I..." Bob's attention was drawn to the sliding door that led to the patio. "Jesus," he muttered, causing Joyce to turn and look out the slider as well.

Joyce shook her head at the sight of her stepson standing by the pool side wearing a white, sleeveless tee shirt that had gone nearly transparent with the pool water. Through the material, the shape of his breasts were very well defined and his nipples were obvious as well - not just their plump shape, but their darker color.

"Oh, Geez," she muttered. "I'll get him something darker to wear in the pool. They sell women's swim tops that look like tee shirts, too, and those have a bra shelf in them. We'll look for one of those at Ray's Sporting Goods, too, but... just look at him, Bob... We can't let him walk around like that! If that was your daughter instead of your son, you'd be having conniptions!"

"Don't fool yourself, babe. I'm having conniptions right now. I'm just keeping them well hidden."
 

~^~
 

The wet shirt hadn't been lost on Mary Ellen, either. She noticed her stepbrother's breasts and nipples as well and she knew that she had to help him out a bit. He needed something to help him be more... modest.
 

~^~
 

Because he'd had such a tough day, his parents let Hunter choose what they'd have for dinner. He chose his favorite - Plain pizza with extra cheese from Mama Columbo's a few blocks away. He was still upset, but the pizza was a great comfort food.

After dinner, Bob and Joyce went out to 'pick up a few things,' while Mary Ellen and Hunter stayed home. Mary Ellen had planned on going out with her friend, Effie, but when she heard her parents were going out, and when her mother explained why, she decided that she'd stay home to keep her younger step-sibling company.

After a brief discussion, they watched a Star Wars movie on Disney-Plus, and since they had both seen the film many times, it afforded them the opportunity to talk a little. Mary Ellen noticed that her stepbrother had a hard time getting comfortable. Something about his chest was irritating him and he shifted his position several times until he seemed to rest comfortably.

"Sooooo..." Mary Ellen said about ten or fifteen minutes into the movie, "...how are you feeling?"

Hunter shrugged. "I'll be ok, I guess, but... I am going to miss the guys in the park and playing sports."

"What are you talking about?" She laughed. "There's no reason to say goodbye to your friends or sports just because you have breasts."

"Girl's breasts," Hunter corrected her. "The guys will make my life miserable if they find out." In fact, they already made his life miserable, just because he was small.

"Huh. They don't sound like very good friends."

"I guess they aren't, but they're all that I had and I'll miss them."

Mary Ellen gave his thigh a sympathetic rub. "What about sports, though. I know you can't do anything that might expose your chest right now, but you can still play baseball."

He shook his head. "I can't. These things already hurt a lot when I had that Ace bandage on. Without that, I can't play."

"What about a minimizing sports bra?"

"I'm a boy, Mae. I am not wearing a bra."

When Mary Ellen spoke again, she spoke in a comical imitation of his sulky demeanor. "I know you're a boy, Hunter, but you're a boy with boobs and a boy with boobs needs to wear a bra. Just like anyone else with boobs."

He shook his head. "You sound just like mom."

"Because she's right - AND I certainly do not sound like her." Mary Ellen said, using her normal voice, again. "Come on. A bra isn't that big a deal. It's like anything else. The first few hours that you're wearing one, it seems weird, but then... it just seems... normal."

Hunter just shook his head. The idea of a bra was just too weird to even consider. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure." Mary Ellen was remaining upbeat. In fact, she kind of liked talking about something other than school and sports scores with Hunter for a change.

"What's a shelf?"

She squinted at him for a moment to see if he was serious. "It's something you mount on a wall or in a closet and you put things on it."

That made Hunter squint back at her, a little confused. Then he realized what she meant. "No, I mean what's a shelf in girl's clothing. Like, the doctor said if I wasn't going to wear a bra, mom should get me a cami with a shelf. I don't know what a cami is or a shelf."

"Ahh." Mary Ellen nodded, understanding the question, now. "Well, a cami is, essentially, an undershirt. It's usually a little thinner and softer to... you know... make the girls feel good." She made a show of hefting her breasts to demonstrate what she meant by 'the girls.' "And as for a shelf, well... it's kind of a bra, I guess, but not. It's kind of a... band of support, I guess. It just... you know... keeps you from bouncing. It's sewn into the cami - or sometimes into tops so you don't have to wear a bra."

Hunter thought and nodded. It didn't sound that bad. "Do you ever wear stuff like that?"

"Yeah, of course." Mary Ellen laughed. "Everyone does. Oh, hey... wait here a sec. I'll be right back." She stood and hurried to the stairs to run up to her room.

"Should I pause the movie?" Hunter shouted after her.

"Not unless they changed it since the last time we watched it," she called back.

Seconds later, Mary Ellen returned with a black pajama set. It just looked like any set of summer weight short pajamas. "Just looks like a pajama top or a tee shirt, right?" She smiled, holding up the tee shirt style pajama top. Hunter noticed that it wasn't just black, it had a lot of little white dots on it and across the belly area, there was a white line that outlined the shape of a cat's head with a nose and whiskers also displayed within the outline. Other than the black with the white design, the only other color was two pink triangles in each of the cat's ears and a small pink circle to indicate the cat's nose.

Then, Mary Ellen made a big show of turning the top inside out, as if it was a magic trick. Then she showed her stepbrother a band of flesh colored, stretchy material that was sewn into the interior of the front of the top. "Ta da!" She said with fanfare. "See? That's all a shelf is."

That didn't look too bad. "So... does it show when you're wearing it?"

"No. Not at all. That's the point of a shelf. It's all very subtle and, to be honest, it's more comfortable than a bra. See. No lace or silk or bows or ribbons. See, the shelf is attached to a kind of built in undershirt and it fits nice and snug, but the shirt hangs loosely over that. No big deal, right?"

"I guess." Hunter chuckled at his stepsister's playful hard sell. Then he shifted about a bit to get comfortable again. He also used his upper arms to adjust his breasts as he fidgeted.

This did not go unnoticed by Mary Ellen. "You're not very comfortable, are you?"

He was a little surprised that his maneuvers had been noticed. He shrugged and smirked. "Not really, I guess."

"What's wrong?"

He shrugged again "I had to put this cream all over my rash and it's helping, but it's kinda uncomfortable. And my..." he thought better of what he was going to say. "... never mind."

"Hey, come on, Hunny," Mary Ellen said, using the nickname she'd used for Hunter since he was an infant, but she'd stopped using a few years ago because Hunter felt it wasn't grown up or masculine enough. In fact, he usually hated the nickname so much, that the affectionate nickname 'honey' had unofficially been banned from the collective family vocabulary. "You can talk to me about anything. You know that."

He sighed and looked down at his chest before looking up again. "It's just that... everything is kind of sore and itchy."

"That's probably just the cream doing its job."

He shook his head. "No. Not the cream. My..." God he hated talking about this. "...my... nipples."

Matt Ellen felt terrible about the embarrassment Hunter was exhibiting. She hadn't meant to embarrass him. "Your nipples? They're bothering you?"

He nodded. "Before, when I wore the stretchy ace bandage, it was kind of tight and not too rough against them, but now... they're driving me nuts!"

She nodded and patted his head. "That's because your shirt is irritating them when it moves across them." She thought for a moment. "Here. Stand up."

He did and Mary Ellen immediately started to lift the hem of his tee shirt to remove it.

"Hey, hey, hey! Mae! What are you doing?" Hunter said, holding his shirt down.

"Seriously?" Mary Ellen looked peeved. "You're going to act embarrassed about me seeing your breasts? If you recall, I walked into the bathroom and got quite an eyeful of them, last night AND I helped you get ready for the pool like two hours ago. So, they're nothing I haven't seen before. And besides, I have a pair just like them. Let me take off your shirt. I promise you'll feel better after I help you."

Still uncertain, Hunter raised his arms and let his stepsister pull his shirt off. Immediately the irritation on his nipples subsided, but he knew he couldn't sit around like that all night. Then, without a word, Mary Ellen straightened out the pajama top she'd been showing him and prepared to put it on him.

"Oh, no you don't!" Hunter said, sounding a bit frightened.

"What?" Mary Ellen stopped and looked at him. "What's wrong? I told you I could help. The material in the shelf is meant to feel comfortable against sensitive nipples. Now, come on. It's just a tee shirt."

"It's a GIRL'S tee shirt."

"Yeah. It's a girl's tee shirt. Do you think you might be able to find a boy's tee shirt that is designed to support breasts and make itchy nipples feel better?"

Hunter didn't respond.

"I thought so. Now, come on. You need to try this. Just put the shirt on."

It took a few moments of thinking before Hunter finally nodded and relaxed. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Who would I tell, Hunny? Come on."

He sighed and let her put the shirt onto him.

"I bought this from a site in the UK," Mary Ellen explained, "and I got the sizes mixed up. It's too small for me. It should fit you perfectly, though."

And it did. When Mary Ellen finished pulling the shirt onto Hunter and adjusting his new growths in the shelf-bra, he felt better right away.

"Better?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Much. Thanks."

He touched his breasts on the sides and from below and in front. "It doesn't make them look bigger, does it?"

Mary Ellen smiled at that. In fact, it kind of did make them look a little bigger, but the way that the shirt hung, it didn't over emphasize anything. She could have explained that, but the poor kid just needed to find relief and she knew from experience that this was the easiest way to calm down the itchiness. "Not at all. It just looks like a cute tee shirt."

"Yeah... Cute... Great."

She laughed at that. "If you want, I can talk to mom and find tops like this for you that are, maybe, a little plainer."

Hunter nodded. "Thanks. That would be great."

It was a warm evening and they hadn't installed the air-conditioning units into the windows yet, so Mary Ellen made another suggestion. "Come on, now. You've got the top on and you already feel better. Now, take off your jeans and put the bottoms on. They're just like gym shorts."

He sighed, but figured that it really didn't matter. They were just like his gym trunks - black with an elastic waist and white piping around the bottom.

He undid his jeans and slid them down, but Mary Ellen spotted an issue.

"Umm... you'll have to take off your boxers, too. They're too long for these shorts."

"But... all I have is boxers."

She nodded. "Just take them off and slide these on. It doesn't matter. Like I said, they're too small for me, so I never wore them and they're yours now, so who cares if you go commando for a night."

That seemed to make sense, so he slid his boxers down and stepped out of them, too.

Mary Ellen knelt and held the bottoms open so he could step into them. She didn't mean to, but since Hunter's penis ended up directly in front of her, she couldn't help but take a good long look at it. Wow. He really was a 'little' boy. His boy parts looked pretty much the same as they had the last time she'd changed his diaper. She didn't know if this was normal for a twelve year old, but she was certainly going to look into it. She'd seen his breasts, so she knew that female hormones were doing a job on him, but his little penis and the complete lack of any pubic hair indicated that his male hormones had yet to show up for work. She wondered if the doctor had said anything to her mother about this. She would ask.

"There you go!" She said, settling the waist band into place. "They fit you nicely."

"They're kind of short."

"They're meant to be so you stay cool in bed. Huh... They look like they were made for you. Do they feel good?"

Hunter nodded. "Yeah. They're really soft - both the shirt and shorts. They're pretty comfortable."

Mary Ellen raised her eyebrows at his approval. "Well, I guess you just learned the first rule of girl's clothing. They're softer than boy's." She laughed at her own words. "Ok. I helped you, now I'm going to get my hair brush and you're going to brush out my hair."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I was nice to you and helped with the itching, so you owe me a favor. Or maybe just because you love me and we're having a really nice sister... I mean... sibling... night. Tell you what - if you do a good job brushing out my hair, I'll brush yours, too. Deal?"

"Deal!" Even though Hunter's hair was just a few inches longer and a lot shaggier than most boys, he'd always loved the feeling of having someone else brush his hair. It was so elegant and relaxing. This seemed like a nice way to end the evening.
 

~^~
 

Bob pulled the car into the driveway, shut off the motor and looked at his wife. "Ready?"

She heaved a sigh and asked, "Do you think he's going to resist wearing these clothes?"

Bob laughed. "Joyce... he's a twelve year old boy who likes to play sports and get dirty. Yeah, I think he's going to resist. What boy wouldn't?"

"Well, I've heard there are boys that like these kinds of things."

"Sure there are... and when I was twelve, we called those boys sissies."

"Oh, that's really helpful, Bob. Let's try not to throw around words like that in front of Hunter, ok?"

His wife's quick reaction surprised Bob. "Come on, Joyce. You know I wouldn't say something like that to the boy. I just meant... well... you have to admit... this is a bit unusual... buying camisoles, sports bras, a swim top and even pasties for a boy."

"They're not pasties... They're nipple protection in case he wants to play sports. You heard the saleswoman say that a lot of athletic girls swear by them."

Bob bounced his head from side to side. "Yeah... and if you put a little glitter on them, they could be used at a strip club."

"Robert!" Joyce was shocked. "How could you even suggest..."

"Hey, I'm just teasing," Bob said, with a nervous laugh. "Relieving the pressure through humor. Ok?"

"Well, stop it," Joyce said sternly. "Nothing about this is funny and we need to impress upon our son that we are doing this for his own good."

"Alright. I'm sorry. No more jokes." Bob took a second to prepare himself. "Are you ready for World War Three?"

Joyce nodded. "I guess I am."

"Then let's go."

They opened the trunk and took the five bags of clothing - most of which could be classified as lingerie - out and headed for the front door. When Joyce's hand touched the nob, she turned to Bob and said, "Nothing but positive remarks. Ok?"

"Ok," he nodded.

Joyce opened the door. They could hear the sound of 'The Empire Strikes Back' coming from the TV room.

"Leave the bags here," Joyce instructed, quietly. "We'll introduce everything a little at a time. Ok?"

"Sounds like a plan," Bob said, adding his bags to the ones that his wife had left on the hallway settee.

They looked at each other, took a long, steadying breath and stepped into the TV room...

...where they both stopped and stared at the scene in front of them.

Unbelievably, their angry, defiant son was sitting on an ottoman in front of the couch and he was wearing what was obviously a set of pajamas designed for a tween-girl with a sweet little kitty cat illustrated on the top. The shorts were so short that it took a moment for either of them to be sure he had any pajama bottoms on at all. Behind him, sitting on the couch, the boy's older sister, well, stepsister, sat brushing his unruly hair in such a way that it was actually off of his face for the first time in several years, AND there was something about the way she'd brushed it that made Hunter look decidedly... unboyish. His eyes were closed and he was luxuriating in the feeling of having his hair brushed.

Mary Ellen smiled at their reaction.

Suddenly, Hunter seemed to sense that someone was looking at him and he opened his eyes. He saw his father and stepmother looking surprised. He blushed a bit and then said, "Oh. Hi."

"Hi," both adults replied, but Joyce continued, "So... you look a bit more relaxed than you did when we left."

"Yeah, I guess," Hunter admitted, standing to return to the couch, but when he stood, he realized what he was wearing. "Ah, shit," he muttered, then looked at his parents with panic on his face. "I can explain. It's not like it looks. I was just..."

Mary Ellen stood and put her arm around her younger step-sibling. "It's no big deal. Hunny was uncomfortable because of his rash medicine and his... well... his chest was itchy. So, I made him comfortable. I bought these pjs a few weeks ago. They are too small for me, but fit him and there's a shelf-bra in the top, so he could relax. That's all. If you're upset at all, be mad at me. Not Hunny."

It took Joyce a moment just to get past her daughter calling Hunter 'Hunny' without having him go ballistic. Once she got past that, she said, "Mad? We're not mad at anyone. We think this is a very..." she was stuck for a word.

"Pragmatic," Bob offered.

"Yes... a very pragmatic solution and I am very pleased that you were mature enough to see that these clothes will benefit you, Hunter." She completed her thought, then was about to push a little further. "Umm... since you've already tried on a top like that, maybe you'd like to take a look at what we..."

Suddenly, Bob seemed to have a coughing fit that interrupted Joyce's words.

"Oh, gee, Joyce," he coughed to his wife, "I'm sorry I interrupted you, but could you give me a hand in the kitchen for a moment."

"What?" Joyce was nonplused for a moment.

"The kitchen, dear. Please," Bob stated, flatly and took his wife's hand to lead her out of the TV room. He pretended to cough all the way down the hall.

When they were alone in the kitchen, Joyce asked, "What was that all about?"

Bob smiled and said, "Look, babe, we came home expecting to find the boy resistant and angry. Instead, we found him already wearing something similar to what you bought. That's a win, Joyce! It's already nine o'clock at night. Do you want to upset things at this point, or just accept the win and move on?"

Joyce considered that for a moment. "Ok. You're right. He's already been cooperative. Let's call it a night and tomorrow I'll try to get him to try on some of the things we bought him tonight."
 

~^~
 

Joyce swung her legs into the bed beside her husband and as she squirted some skin lotion into the palm of her hand and then began rubbing it into the skin on her hands and arms, she asked Bob, "So... how are you holding up with everything that's going on?"

Bob stopped working on the crossword puzzle he had open on his iPad and looked at her. "I'm ok, I guess. Mostly just worried about the boy, you know? He's always been such a... boy. Baseball, video games, adventures in the woods... all boy stuff. Now, he just seems scared to show his face outside, afraid that his friends will find out. To tell you the truth, I get it. It would be easier to tell them that he had a fatal disease. At least they'd understand that. This just seems so... weird."

"Well, I have to admit, this does sort of explain a few things about Hunter's behavior over the last few months," Joyce said, still rubbing the flowered scented cream into her arms. "Like - Remember at Halloween when he refused to go trick or treating? Or how he didn't even tell us that the school had sent home permission slips for the kids to go to that recreation center for their field day? There was a pool there, Bob. I'm sure that's why he faked being sick that day and stayed home. I knew he wasn't really as sick as he pretended to be, but I could tell that he was upset, so I gave in. Now, it makes a lot more sense."

Bob nodded. "This baseball camp thing is really upsetting to me, though. I know he's going through a lot, but... he just liked it so much last year."

"Bob, come on. Not only is there a pool there, but it's an overnight camp. The boys see each other getting changed. Hunter would be in the aged twelve to fourteen group. Do you really want your tiny twelve year old son undressing in front of big fourteen year old boys who are going to see that he has some pretty well developed breasts? Bob, he could get raped for crying out loud."

"I think you're exaggerating a bit," Bob said, hoping to ease his wife's sense of panic, "but I get your point." He thought about how they might be able to have the boy go to camp without those situations arising, but then something Joyce said struck him. "You said his breasts were 'pretty well developed' and you told me on the phone that he was probably a little bigger than an B cup, but none of that means a lot to me. How 'well developed' are these breasts of his?"

Joyce thought for a moment to come up with some kind of a comparison. "Do you remember when I first moved into the house down the street? Back when I was married to Peter and before I got pregnant with Mae?"

"Yeah, sure," Bob nodded.

"I had a nice figure then, right?"

Bob laughed. "Yes, Joyce, you did, and you still have an amazing figure."

"Well, I'm glad you think so, but the point I'm trying to make is that I was only in a B cup then. I used to be very self conscious about my breasts, especially when I was near bigger women like Hunter's mother, but I still looked nice, right? Oh, wait!"

She grabbed her phone and showed Bob a picture of herself and Bob's first wife standing next to the pool in the back yard of the house she currently shared with Bob. "We took this picture the first day that you guys had a party by your new pool. This is just before I got pregnant. Look at what my breasts looked like in that top."

Bob looked at the picture and saw Joyce wearing a bikini top with a skirt-type wrap around her waist and she was a knock out. His heart sunk a bit. "So, you're telling me that Hunter's breasts are already that big?"

She nodded. "And Bob, I'm five eight. Hunter's four one. Those breasts look even bigger on that skinny little body of his. If he was my sixth grade daughter, I'd be scared that she'd be attracting the wrong attention and could come home pregnant before she turned thirteen. Frankly, I'm feeling the same kind of fear for Hunter. Not that he'd get pregnant, of course, but that he could attract the wrong kind of attention and that something bad could happen."

"Jesus," Bob muttered as the huge reality of the situation hit him.

There was a quiet knock on the half opened door. They turned and saw Mary Ellen's head peek around the door. "Hey. Can I come in?"

"Of course." Bob smiled at his stepdaughter.

Joyce curled her legs closer to her bottom and tapped the empty area she'd created as an invitation to sit.

As Mary Ellen sat, she said, "Umm... I just... well... you know that I'm worried about Hunny, too, right? Well, I did a little research online just now and... Did the doctor say anything about the fact that Hunny has, like, no pubic hair or any real development down there at all?"

This caught Bob by surprise and he looked to Joyce who pursed her lips and blinked for a moment. "Can I ask you how you know that?" She asked her daughter.

Mary Ellen didn't look guilty or embarrassed at all. "I put him into those pjs tonight, mom, and I did it so that I could intentionally get a look at that part of him just so I could check."

Joyce pondered that for a moment. "I'm not sure how I feel about that, Mae. I mean... you two aren't really brother and sister and I'm not comfortable with the possibility of any kind of shenanigans going on when we trust him to your care."

"SHENANIGANS!?" Mary Ellen sounded shocked. "Are you kidding me? Mom, that's ridiculous! I don't care who's uterus he came out of, Hunny is my baby brother and I've helped to take care of him his whole life. I looked because I love him and want to make sure he's ok, and... well... is he? Did the doctor say anything about that?"

Finally, Joyce nodded. "Yes. She did mention that he does seem a bit late to start puberty, but she also said that's not all that unusual. If you recall, Mae, we were worried about you at that age, too. You didn't start your period until you were thirteen and a half. Children don't develop on a strict schedule, Mae. She says it's nothing to be worried about."

"Mom, he's got boobs as big as mine and a dick the size of a two year old."

"Mary Ellen, that is enough!"

"No, it's not, mom. It's not nearly enough. Something is very wrong with MY LITTLE BROTHER and I don't think his pediatrician is up to the task of dealing with it. I think we should bring him to a specialist or something."

"When you did your research, did you also happen to read that nearly eighty present of all boys experience some level of gynecomastia during puberty and that nearly sixty five percent of middle aged men do as well? This is not an uncommon thing, Mae. Dr Clemente knows what she's doing."

"Some form, mom. They suffer from some form of gynecom... whatever... but they don't grow big old hooters like Hunny did."

Bob could sense a big blowout pending, so he interrupted. "Ok, girls - take a breath. Both of you. Let's all calm down and focus on helping Hunter out. Ok? Mary Ellen, we cannot thank you enough for getting him to wear that pajama top with the... thing... in it tonight. That was a big step forward. Joyce, you are doing a great job at managing all of this insanity. Hell, even Hunter's handling things pretty well, now. If there's anyone who needs to get more with the program, it's me. So, Joyce, if you don't mind, tomorrow I'd like to talk to Dr Clemente myself and just hear her diagnosis - straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak - and then I will jump into this matter with both feet. Now, we all love Hunter and we all want what's best for him. So, let's all be on the same team and not start sniping at each other. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Both mother and daughter nodded.

"Good. Let's move slowly, cautiously and, for Hunter's sake, gently forward and if we need to see a specialist, then we'll see a specialist. Ok?"

"Ok." Both women agreed, again.

"I'm sorry, mom," Mary Ellen said. "I... I just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

Joyce spread her arms and hugged her daughter. "I know, baby. Don't worry. He'll be ok."
 
 
To Be Continued...