Lucy returns to Bikini Beach with her friends. Glenn Matsumoto's work leads him to an unwanted visit to Bikini Beach as well. The final four-sevenths was previously published as "Bikini Beach: Glenn Matsumoto Visits".

        The Disclaimer

Bikini Beach and its main characters are copyright 1998 by Elrod W.

Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and wrong. As this story is told from a particular point of view by the protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist, and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and rejected.

Despite this I will admit to pushing the limits of Bikini-Beach canon, perhaps even going outside on occasion.

This post (https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog-entry/64659/muse-wrestli...) persuaded me that waiting to complete and revise my long stories before posting posting may have been an ungood idea. As it is, the sequel still isn't complete more than half a decade later. Consequently, there is NO WARRANTY that this won't be revised as part of the final story.

        Tuesday, August 5

I couldn't wait, I was returning to Bikini Beach to meet the girls again! I was walking to the bus station, and would take the bus to Bikini Beach. I had to hurry, the bus was due to leave shortly. I tried to run, but my muscles were so utterly slow, I was hardly getting anywhere.

Having made it to the mall, I had to push my way through the crowd. But no, the transit center wasn't at the mall, it was a couple blocks away! I had to push my way through the mall, back to an exit close to the transit station.

I was on the bus, and because I was going to Bikini Beach, I had to wear my bikini. But I was a boy and boys didn't wear bikini tops, like girls bras. I quickly removed my top and tossed it away.

The bus arrived at school in good time. As I got off the bus, the children around me pointed at me and shouted, "Hey look! Luke's wearing a bikini bottom!" Everyone was laughing and pointing at me. I was in trouble now, but it was too late to return home for my clothes. I had to attend school as I was. The Principal approached and stood over me, glaring down at me sternly. He opened his mouth, and--

-- I woke up hyperventilating in embarrassment, my heart beating rapidly. I slowed down my breath, and finally got hold of myself, telling myself it was only a dream, another nightmare. Oh, and I was going to wear a one-piece at Bikini Beach this time, not a bikini.

I got up to go to the bathroom, then returned to bed.

        .
        .
        .

Today, being Tuesday, would normally be a free day for me -- free of activities, that is. Of course, we had to listen to the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon, and I had to spend some time helping Ma with the chores. My Lucy voice sounded so much more pleasant on the recording than I remember sounding as Luke.

Peter was with us for breakfast, as was Pa. Pa departed as soon as breakfast ended and the Lesson was finished. Peter stayed for just a moment before departing. "Are you going to Bikini Beach today?"

"I hope Ma lets me."

"Say hello to the twins for me. Ah, and Carol, too." His voice brightened and his face blushed faintly mentioning Carol. It was embarrassing.

That reminded me that I'd forgotten to take the Pill this morning. I had to somehow slip up into my room and take it before I forgot again.

"I understand the twins meet their friends again today," said Ma, who'd overheard the exchange. "Carol was a very nice girl, and I'm sure they're all very nice as well. Are you planning to take the bus again?"

"I'm pretty sure the twins are taking the bus. I hope to take it with them, although I'm sure I can make it on my own if I arrive too late."

"You go and pack your things, and I'll phone Mrs. Miura to ask when to meet the twins," said Ma. I promptly dashed upstairs, and selected one of my one-piece swimsuits.

I didn't want to change into my swimsuit at Bikini Beach, in the woman's changing room. I wanted privacy about changing into my swimsuit, especially if the suit was going to arouse me like my leotard yesterday.

I put things I thought I'd need into my knapsack, including sunscreen and, of course, my Bikini Beach membership pass. I also used that opportunity to take the Pill. Then I undressed and stuffed a clean set of panties and bra in the knapsack.

It was now the time -- no more delay. I put my swimsuit on. Stretching the shoulder straps over my arms and shoulders and letting them snap into place, I was aware of the tightness at my crotch. I couldn't help a high-pitched "Mmmmmmmmmmm!" which I muffled as much as possible, holding my arm up against my mouth. I put a tee-shirt and jeans on over my swimsuit. My jeans felt tight around my hips as I pulled them up, but they slipped into position and felt comfortably snug about my hips, crotch, and waist.

When I got back downstairs, Ma had already finished talking with the twins' mother. "Tracy and Becky have already left home, and their bus to Bikini Beach departs from the transit center in about fifteen minutes. I'll take you to the transit center, and get you a bus-card. Let's go."

Along the way, Ma pointed out a bus stop. "This bus goes to the transit center, where you can change buses for any destination in the city." I'd noticed those signs, and also seen the buses go by, but I'd paid little attention. I knew I'd pay more attention in the future. "The stop closest to our house is actually a block away in the other direction," Ma continued.

Ma arrived at the transit center and parked in one of the drop-off places. "Here's a bus-card machine." Ma indicated a machine a couple stops over. We went over together, and Ma got me twenty dollars worth of bus rides. "You get an extra ride if you spend twenty dollars or more at once," she said. "The bus to Bikini Beach should arrive... around that crowd of girls. You have your Bikini Beach pass, I hope. Here should be enough money for lunch and dinner if necessary." She handed me a bundle, which I stuck in my purse. "Have a wonderful day, and see you this evening."

Ma departed, and I made my way toward the crowd of girls, hoping that I'd find Tracy and Becky, and maybe even Carol or others of the girls.

I found Becky and Tracy in a relatively empty spot a little ways from the crowd of girls.

"Hey Becky, Tracy!" I called out, as I ran toward them.

"Lucy!" they cried out. We met together in hugs and giggles. "Glad you're returning to Bikini Beach," said Tracy.

"Of course! Your friends are all wonderful, I want to see them all again. Oh, by the way, Peter said to say hi."

I stood back and looked them both over. Tracy was wearing an overlong translucent tee-shirt over her bikini, while Becky wore shorts and tee-shirt and, like myself, was carrying a knapsack. I could see through the tee-shirt that, like me, she was wearing a one-piece.

Becky giggled. "Tracy really enjoys exposing herself and being ogled. Bikini Beach has influenced her. Although Friday was a bit much for her."

"I thought that Bikini Beach was supposed to be a place for girls to enjoy the water without being ogled by boys," I said.

"SOME of us consider Bikini Beach a training ground, preparing girls to go out in public in skimpy clothing, practically naked, without shame." We all jumped, startled and embarrassed. The speaker turned out to be a middle-aged woman, sitting on one of the benches, dressed in a bright green nun's habit. She continued, "Young ladies, if you know what's good for you, you'll avoid that place like the plague and learn to dress modestly."

I was tongue-tied, frozen for words.

Becky wasn't. "And probably miss out on all the fun I could have while I still had the opportunity, right? I don't think I'd be any better off. And I suspect that anything short of a nun's habit violates your sense of modesty. Heh, you probably view even Lucy as immodestly dressed." She indicated me.

"Of course," answered the middle-aged lady, looking me over. "This young lady's form-fitting clothes outline her body and emphasize her naughty bits." I realized my jeans went smoothly down over my crotch, without a bit of space between them, clearly indicating what I now lacked down there. "You can even see her swimsuit through her shirt." She turned toward me. "Believe me, if you were my daughter dressed like that, I'd give you a good switching."

My mind freed up, freeing my tongue. "Perhaps you'd like to see me in a karate uniform instead, Ma'am." I shoved back into a vacant area with a loud, "Hah!" and let loose a roundhouse kick. It was quite sloppy because I wasn't used to my female balance, and I was wearing, as she put it, form-fitting jeans, but it was still a good-sized kick.

"Oh!" she put her hands over her left breast, breathing heavily and rapidly. "How ghastly! I had no idea girls these days were so violent as well as immodest in their dress!"

"Only older ladies like you get to be violent with your switches?"

"Of all the,..." she began. "You can't even tell the difference between discipline and violence!"

"I know what violence is, and you spoke violence with your switch. I only get violent in self-defense, ma'am. Or defending others. Or practicing with a friend or brother, or sister. You really don't want to try switching me or spanking me -- talk about violence! And I like the freedom to wear clothes that I want to wear. I also like the freedom my dear friends here have, to wear the clothes they want to wear."

The middle-aged lady sighed. "Girls these days. Mark my words, young ladies. You'll ultimately come to a bad end, tormented by memories of immodest exposure, and wishing you'd taken my words to heart."

"Oh?" asked Becky inquisitively. "How well do girls at universities such as MIT turn out?"

"I have no idea what this MIT is, but if they have girls dressing like you, you can be sure they turn out rotten."

"It's Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Ma'am," said Tracy. "Come on, girls, looks like the buses have arrived. Let's leave Madam Ignoramus behind." I saw that two buses were there ready to board.

As we waited in line to get on one of the buses, I thought about what I'd said about the freedom to wear clothes that I wanted to wear. I realized that, thanks to Pa, I didn't have that freedom. Sure, I didn't mind wearing jeans and knee-length shorts as Luke or Lucy. Slacks were okay as well. Wearing a dress was still embarrassing, especially a miniskirt with tights at piano lessons and walking through the mall. On the other hand, the Sunday dress was certainly better than my uncomfortable Sunday suit. But short-shorts and tank-tops and other sleeveless shirts? Bikinis as swimwear?

I was letting fear of Pa influence my dress? Perhaps I should assert myself more, or secretly wear short-shorts or miniskirts when he wasn't around. I'd done that a few times in my life, such as July 4th, when I wore a formal miniskirt dress suit primarily for clarinet lesson with Brandon.

Whoa, whoa, what was I thinking! I'm Luke, not Lucy. None of that actually happened! I shuddered at my unwanted crush on Mr. Oregon.

We got on the bus, and Becky managed to find a seat, but insisted Tracy take it. Meanwhile Becky and I stood, and held onto the poles.

"You seem introspective," said Becky.

"Just thinking about what I said earlier, about the freedom to wear what you wished, and thinking about Pa's views on girls in skimpy clothing."

"Your Pa's nothing like that woman back there," said Tracy.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Jeans, capris, and long shorts are fine with him. And he grudgingly accepts short-shorts, leotards, and one-piece swimsuits for swimming, sports, and exercise, although he's uncomfortable with them. I don't think he knows anything about me going to Bikini Beach. I'm not going to tell him, that's for sure."

"Did you notice that Becky's also wearing a one-piece?" Tracy asked me.

"Yeah, I noticed," I said.

Becky giggled. "It's surprising how transparent these tee-shirts are."

"Becky never had problems with bikinis before," continued Tracy. "But this morning, she decided that they were way too revealing. She suddenly became like a born-again prude."

"Hey, you're practically naked in a bikini!" said Becky.

"So she's wearing an old one-piece now. And she realized they're not modest either. Not only that, they have their own problems." Tracy giggled.

"Shut up!" said Becky.

"Especially when they're two years too small." Tracy giggled some more.

"Shuddap, Tracy!" Becky clenched her free hand into a fist, even as she blushed.

"I agree, Tracy. Shut up!" I realized that Becky may have had the problem I had with the swimsuit this morning, as well as yesterday with the leotard.

"I slipped a bikini in her knapsack," continued Tracy, ignoring our requests. "Just in case she changes her mind. But of course, it never really killed anyone to be caught in the middle of a crowd with an uncontrollable powerful orgasm." The last three words were surprisingly loud, as the conversation on the bus had gone silent in the meantime. Tracy gasped, blushed, and buried her face in her hands in her lap.

"Oh, really?" snarked Becky.

Tracy didn't say anything, buried in her shame as she was. I didn't say anything further, and just pretended that I didn't know Tracy. Becky said nothing further, but I could sense her gloating inside at Tracy's predicament.

The conversation on the bus picked up again, and continued (for the most part) as if nothing had happened. I couldn't really tell whether they were talking about us, or ignoring us now.

We arrived at Bikini Beach in due time, and got in a line leading from the bus stop to the turnstiles, for those with membership passes. Tracy called out, "Hey, Vanessa!"

Hearing Vanessa's return greeting in the distance, I looked around, and saw Vanessa along with her mom and little sister in another line for the turnstiles, a line for those who parked their cars.

My Bikini Beach membership pass worked perfectly, and we got through the turnstile before Vanessa's family.

"Let's wait for Vanessa, so we can go in together," I suggested, to Tracy and Becky's agreement. I was stalling, getting progressively more and more nervous, both excited and scared, about entering the Wondrous Ladies Room.

Vanessa came through the turnstile. "Hey, Tracy!" They promptly hugged.

Becky greeted and hugged Vanessa, while I greeted Mrs. King and Helen. "Hello, Mrs. King. Hi Helen!"

"Hi, Lucy!" Helen exclaimed excitedly.

"Hello, Lucy," said Mrs. King. "Always great to meet a friend of Vanessa's."

"Good to see you again!" said Vanessa, as we hugged.

As we walked together to the women's changing room, we passed the men's room.

We entered the women's changing room. To my surprise, we found Carol and Feline both inside. They had already changed into their bikinis and were just coming out of the showers.

Carol promptly hugged me. "Lucy! So great you could come again."

"It's wonderful to see you again," I replied. "Peter said `Hi'."

"I'll be sure to see him again," she replied, as she greeted and hugged the rest of us. "It was hilarious the way Peter and your Pa kept competing for my attention last night. Hilarious, flattering, and just a bit creepy."

"Just a *bit* creepy?" asked Faline. "Why, Lucy's Pa has got to be old enough to be your father! Not only that, he's married to Lucy's Ma... isn't he?"

"Of course," I answered. These insinuations about Pa were beginning to make me sick. "Let's change the subject."

"Will Xena and Jen be coming again?" asked Faline hopefully.

Vanessa answered, "They're coming later. I talked with them yesterday, and they have Cantonese classes today from nine to eleven."

We followed Faline and Carol back to their lockers. A few lockers were still empty here. As I was already wearing my swimsuit under my clothes, I chose a locker at random and removed my tee-shirt and jeans. My flip-flops went on, and I was ready for the shower.

I heard Becky emit a muffled high-pitched moan. At the same time, Tracy said, "Look, both Lucy and Becky are wearing one-piece suits. As if they were modest, appropriately covering their legs and shoulders."

"For modesty in girl's swimwear," said Vanessa, "One has to go back a century in time."

"Do any of you have any idea how practically naked you are in bikinis?" asked Becky in a huff, sweating. She was pulling at the bottom edges of her swimsuit. Her swimsuit was creeping up her down there.

Tracy said, "You don't really think you're swimsuit is any more modest down there than a bikini bottom, right? Not with that wedgie, it isn't. Two sizes too small in precisely the Wrong Plaaarrrallllllgghhh!" Becky had just grabbed Tracy's neck and was yanking her back and forth.

"Enough!" snapped Vanessa, raising her arm to slam down on Becky's arms. Becky let Tracy go. She turned and buried her face in her arms, leaning her forehead against the lockers.

"What did I just do?" Becky wept softly.

Tracy coughed several times before recovering. "Becky, that wasn't nice," she rasped, coughing a couple more times. "Why do you think you had to wear a two-year-old one-piece? You had no problem with bikinis. Both of you even wore bikinis last Saturday, when you first came."

"We had no choice!" Becky turned her head to face Tracy, still teary-eyed.

"Eh? Excuse me?" said Tracy.

"I agree, that doesn't make sense," said Faline.

"Okay, what about `We had no choice' don't you understand?" asked Becky.

"Everything," said Faline and Tracy in unison.

I of course knew perfectly well what Becky meant. I also knew that nobody would believe us, even if we could say it. It would be major embarrassment if they ever found out.

"Like, you couldn't have simply picked out your one-piece and worn that? That, my lovely twin sister, is what's so incomprehensible." She coughed again.

"Hrumph!" said Becky.

Vanessa intervened again. "Tracy, Faline, there are various reasons one might be compelled, or merely feel compelled, to wear a bikini at Bikini Beach. Especially a first-time visitor. Let's just leave it at that. Please, Tracy. You're disturbing both Lucy and Becky. You already got one bad reaction from Becky."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Becky. I'm sorry, Lucy," said Tracy, gently sliding her hands over her hair.

"I'm sorry for..." Becky started crying again.

"I'm sorry, too," said Faline. This led to another group hug among us all. Group hugs almost made the arguments worth it.

As Carol was hugging me, she said, "Lucy, I'm so sorry about yesterday. It wasn't any of my business why or whether you wanted to visit Bikini Beach, and I shouldn't have pushed you."

"Thank you... It's okay," I answered, and we hugged harder.

When we broke apart, I noticed that Becky was out of her one-piece, and putting on the bikini that Tracy had slipped into her knapsack.

We went and showered as a group. The water was surprisingly soothing. Becky went up and soaped Tracy down. I could see the guilt in Becky over what she'd done to Tracy.

Finally we finished showering and went out for a morning of fun at Bikini Beach. I kept thinking of Jen and Xena, hoping they would come. We met up with Carol's sister Nancy and Nancy's friend Cindy, and stayed with them for a while.

Eventually, noon came, and it was lunchtime. As we approached the eating place, we finally met Xena and Jen, still with Jen's mom.

"Hey! You finally made it!" exclaimed Vanessa, as we all surrounded the girls, hugging them. "We were worried you wouldn't come!"

"How was class?" asked Carol.

"It's a bit boring, I'm afraid," answered Xena. "It's mostly the same thing over and over again, with new vocabulary and new characters."

"More advanced classes get more interesting," said Jen. "We're reading a young-adult novel from Hong Kong now."

We went to the eating place near the entrance, and joined Vanessa's mother and sister. Jen and Xena sat with us, even though they'd already eaten before coming to Bikini Beach.

After lunch, we rested for an hour or so in a shady spot near one of the ponds. Several of us dozed off -- I know I did.

Tracy was the last to wake up. We talked quietly among ourselves while she still slept. When she awoke, she said, "I rarely sleep this well. I wish I could sleep here at night."

"That would be cold, possibly wet if if rained, and overall uncomfortable," said Faline.

"True," answered Tracy. "But my sleep has been haunted deep in the background. And I've had nightmares of being stalked by a monster. It feels just like the haunting. But now, no haunting, no nightmares."

"You never told me," said Becky.

"Actually, she mentioned a nightmare last week," I corrected her.

"Yep, you're right," answered Becky.

"I think that was the first one. I had a couple more since. I managed to avoid waking up screaming, at least."

"What kind of dreams?" asked Becky.

"I only have vague images -- can't remember enough to say anything." Tracy wept.

"Everyone, this is getting too depressing. Let's all go have some fun!"

All eight of us had a wonderful time the rest of the day, until Bikini Beach closed at dusk. Aunt Yuko appeared late in the afternoon and joined us.

But finally, Bikini Beach had to close. Aunt Yuko took me home as well as Becky and Tracy, so we didn't have to take the bus home at night.

Aunt Yuko dropped me off first. Ma was away at her Firmlove meeting, but Peter met me when I entered.

"Hi Lucy. Mrs. Matsumoto has invited both of us to join Daisy and her for lunch with Mr. Matsumoto. I said yes for both of us. Was that okay?"

"Sounds good. Thank you, Peter."

"It's scheduled for eleven tomorrow, so that we can make it to Taekwondo and ballet at one." Of course, Peter would make sure there was no conflict. "Mrs. Matsumoto will take you to Mr. Matsumoto's office tomorrow."

The prospect was a bit scary, but of course, I wasn't going to miss it.

"Also," Peter continued, handing me a letter. "This came from Westside High for you. I think it's about marching band."

I opened it, and sighed. I had to show up for band the following three Saturday afternoons before school actually began. We were going to practice marching band before school began. That meant missing time at Bikini Beach with my friends. It also reminded me that school began in three weeks minus a day -- the Monday after my Bikini Beach membership ended and I returned to Luke.

        Wednesday, August 6
        Lunchtime at Mr. Matsumoto's Office

Remembering yesterday's confrontation with the "nun", I considered asserting myself with Pa about freedom to wear what I choose, including bikinis and short-shorts. Unfortunately, down at breakfast, whenever I had the opportunity to do so, I couldn't work up the courage to speak up. Of course, I couldn't speak up during the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon.

Between the Mental Work and the recorded Lesson, Peter remind us, "Lucy and I are having lunch with the Matsumotos. Mr. Matsumoto invited us."

"Mrs. Matsumoto informed me of it yesterday," replied Ma. "It's a splendid idea, and a wonderful opportunity."

"I agree," added Pa. "It's a splendid time to see the business world in action."

I stayed home all morning, helping with chores, reading, practicing clarinet and piano, and even indulging in memories and thoughts of Bikini Beach and my new friends there. About an hour before I had to leave, I began to get ready for lunch with Mr. Matsumoto.

I realized that this was a business lunch. Ballet itself was embarrassing enough, but this time I couldn't wear my ballet leotard and tights under jeans or a ballet rap-around skirt. I had to dress up properly for lunch, and change at the ballet studio. I only hoped I could do it. I knew I would have to do it sooner or later, but the prospect was scary.

I decided to wear my olive miniskirt-jacket outfit -- the same outfit I wore on July 4th for clarinet lessons with Brandon. Ah, Brandon... I let his face float before me, until I shuddered and shook myself, `No no no!' If Pa knew I had this -- well, the confrontation would have occurred right then and there. Ma actually got me this one time when we went shopping this summer. I picked out a white sleeveless blouse, olive anklet socks, and black shoes. I had another set from a couple years back that was now too small. (I'd considered wearing that for Brandon on July 4th, but I decided against it, as it might have split on me.)

As I was about to depart for Daisy's house, Ma came up and said, "That's an excellent outfit for a professional dinner. I heartily approve. Enjoy your dinner. But a sports bag is out of place. Here, take this small briefcase. You can put your ballet kit in that."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll see you later," I said, transferring the contents of my bag to the briefcase.

Daisy opened the door almost promptly when I rang the bell. "Lucy! You look so..." She trailed off, and hugged me. I lifted her up; she felt a whole lot heavier now than when I was Luke. I had to crouch and use my strong leg muscles.

"Hi, Daisy." I let her down.

"Come on in, Lucy. We're about to go." She was wearing an almost adult-like navy-blue skirt and jacket, with a white blouse. She even wore tights with miniature heals!

Then I saw Mrs. Matsumoto. I didn't conk out as I did as Luke, but she was still gorgeous -- especially in an adult version of Daisy's dress suit. Together, they made an awesome identical mother-daughter image.

"Mrs. Matsumoto!" I shook her hand, and then she embraced me in a hug. I hugged her back, but didn't attempt to lift her up -- especially since she was taller and heavier than me.

"Shall we go now?"

We got in her car, and drove to Mr. Matsumoto's law office.

Peter was already in the front waiting room when we arrived, talking with the secretary. He was wearing his own suit.

Peter turned at our entrance. "Looks like they've arrived. Hey, ladies!"

I noticed how Peter briefly glanced at Mrs. Matsumoto, before Daisy embraced him. "This is my kid sister, Lucy." He told the secretary, indicating me.

The secretary stood up, and we shook hands, and then she shook hands with Mrs. Matsumoto. "Mr. Matsumoto is still in his office, drafting a motion. I expect him out shortly. Please, all of you, have a seat."

I sat down, and Daisy glanced from Peter to me before coming and sitting on my lap.

I turned at the sound of someone entering, a boy a year or two older than me, I guessed. He looked around before his attention zeroed on Mrs. Matsumoto. She stood up as he went to her.

"Hey, gorgeous! What's say we go off and find a nice quiet place for some fun!" He was about to embrace her. Peter jumped up to intervene, but too fast for me to do anything other than blink, Mrs. Matsumoto did something and the boy was on his back on the floor.

"Oh, I'm so in love," the boy exclaimed to the ceiling. "This lovely lady is so hot, so sexy!"

"She's also my wife, young man," growled Mr. Matsumoto, emerging from his office.

"Dad," said Daisy. "Something's driving him."

"What do you mean, Daisy?" asked Mr. Matsumoto.

"I can't say it, but it feels like something strange in his mind is pushing him to behave like that. He also imagines himself a lady!"

"Yes!" exclaimed the boy excitedly. "Yes-yes-yes! I'm so in love!"

Daisy continued, "He was saying `yes' to what I told you. He came here because he wants to talk to a lawyer, any lawyer. When he's alone, he's so angry about always failing, always destroying himself."

It was just an instant, but I spotted a flash of gratitude and surprise in his expression, glancing at Daisy.

"Excuse me, Daisy. I have to get up," I said. She quickly dismounted from my lap and I stood up and nervously approached Mr. Matsumoto. I tried to speak softly so that only he would hear what I said. "Mr. Matsumoto, there's something about Bikini Beach that may help him." I was wondering how I could possibly explain without sounding crazy, about Bikini Beach changing boys to girls, and affecting their memories.

He grimaced, but said, "Thank you Lucy, that is an idea." He went over to his wife. "Ellen, we have to talk alone. Sorry, everyone." They entered his office.

I never even get a chance to explain my idea!

That was probably a good thing, now that I thought of it. It meant that he must have known something about Bikini Beach, and was taking Daisy and me seriously.

Meanwhile that boy returned to his feet. He turned to me, leering lecherously. "Hey, babe." He approached.

I was paralyzed with fright for a moment, before I remembered. I jumped back into a TKD fighting stance, shouting, "Hah!"

"Ooooooooo, I so love Hot Action Babes," said the boy as he approached, but Peter grabbed him by the shoulder and twisted him around.

"Buster, stay away from my sister," said Peter. "Unless you want your life expectancy slashed."

Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto returned to the outer room. "Young man, I may be able to take you on as client or refer you to another attorney better qualified for your case. But first, you must accompany me somewhere that might help your mind."

"No psychiatrist, no psychologist!" the boy exclaimed.

"No, not those. Someone who may address the problem more directly. I'm sorry, everyone, but our lunch date is off. This must be done immediately. Peter, I request your help escorting this young man to my car."

"Of course, sir," he said.

Mr. Matsumoto took him by the arm, and Peter followed behind them as they left the suite. The last I heard from them was Mr. Matsumoto asking his name. "We can't keep calling you `Young Man'."

"Or 'Buster'," added Peter.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Matsumoto, all of you," said the secretary. "Maybe the lunch date can be rescheduled another time."

"That's okay. Thank you very much," said Mrs. Matsumoto.

Daisy and I followed Mrs. Matsumoto back to the car. "Would you like me to drop you off anywhere, Lucy?"

"How about the mall?" I asked. Ballet was there, and perhaps I might meet Becky and Tracy, and possibly even Carol!

        ******************************

GLENN AND PETER escorted the boy, who had given his name as Jim, to Glenn's car. Jim got into the front passenger seat. As Glenn went around and entered the driver's seat, he said, "Peter, I don't think I'll need you any further. Thank you for your service."

Glenn drove off, heading for Bikini Beach. Inside, he was a bundle of nerves, and he kept telling himself, `Keep this professional, strictly professional. I am asking for a service for which I will pay a fee. Don't confront Grandmother with my views of her practice.' The thoughts kept running through his mind.

"Where are we going?" Jim asked.

"Bikini Beach. They have facilities to help you."

"Be still, my heart!" He breathed heavily. "Acres and acres of lovely ladies and gorgeous girls in abbreviated attire. Peter should really have come!"

Glenn fumed a moment, then told himself that if Daisy was right, this jackassery was imposed on him. That reference to Peter, it occurred to Glenn, cheering up his mood, may have slipped under the radar: Peter was needed to help Glenn keep control.

Eventually, Glenn turned off the freeway and reached the Bikini Beach parking. He drove up to the drop-off area. To his surprise, Grandmother herself was waiting, and she waved and signaled him to stop in front of her.

Glenn got out of the car and walked around to greet Grandmother, holding his hand out for a handshake, which Grandmother shook firmly. "Good day, Ma'am. I wish to consult with you about a professional matter." He went to the passenger door and opened it, letting Jim out, and taking his shoulder. "This young man is a potential client, but he has a certain difficulty describing his situation or articulating his desires." `Strictly professional. Strictly professional,' Glenn's mind echoed. He was concerned that he'd gone personal by insinuating a problem of his with Bikini Beach practice, even though his statement was accurate. "I wish to stay with him until we resolve his issue, so do you have valet parking? And what do you charge?"

"Normally, we don't do valet parking," replied Grandmother. "However, I do see your problem, and an employee will be out shortly to park your car." Grandmother quoted a fee.

"That's eminently reasonable," said Glenn. "I will require a receipt, of course." Glenn got out his wallet and paid the fee. The employee came out, wearing a Bikini-Beach tee-shirt over a bikini, and Glenn squeezed Jim's arm an instant to remind him, reminding himself as well that he had a perfectly wonderful wife -- and that this would be out of range of the permitted. She had a receipt pad, from which Grandmother made out the receipt.

"Good day miss," he greeted the employee. "Here are the keys." He handed her the keys, slipping her a couple dollar coins as tip.

Grandmother led Glenn and Jim into her office, meanwhile describing her consulting fees, including progressive deductions for length and number of memberships purchased.

"Your fees are reasonable, Ma'am, and I agree to them. Confidentiality is another issue. Whenever someone consults with me in my position as a lawyer, I must maintain confidentiality. I am allowed to consult with experts, or obtain services, and provide the necessary information, but I must require similar confidentiality from them."

Once they were seated in Grandmother's office, Glenn opened his briefcase and handed Grandmother a sheet. "This is my standard confidentiality agreement." Glenn was worried. Not only was he scared of Bikini Beach and upset about what had happened to Alan/Ellen ten years earlier, he would really be at a loss if Grandmother refused the agreement. He was consulting with Bikini Beach's Grandmother only because he knew of no one else.

Fortunately, Grandmother said, "I have no problem with this agreement," and signed it. Glenn promptly signed it as well.

"I see a problem with this young man," Grandmother continued. "I have blocked the bimbo spell he's been under, but the block has to be temporary -- at least until we figure out what to do."

"Thank you, thank you! Thank you, ma'am!" exclaimed Jim.

"The problem is the mage who transformed him," continued Grandmother. "If we reverse the transformation, or remove the bimbo spell for more than twenty or thirty minutes, it becomes likely that the mage will detect it. Consequently, time is critical. So, young man, let's hear your story."

Glenn had his notebook and pen all ready.

"My real name is Wendy Levine, and I was 28 years old at the time. I was a graduate student at the University in the neuroscience department, and my family lives in another part of the country. I was approached by someone a couple years ago, and we discussed my research for a little, and then he promptly offered a huge salary to join his team of research scientists. By that time, I was having serious ethical issues with my work. To make a long story short, I ultimately declined the offer, and I was changed to persuade me to reconsider my decision."

It occurred to Glenn that the use of magic might render legal solutions useless, and he might be out of his league.

"Now, as far as most everyone knows, I am James Steedman, fifteen years old, sophomore-to-be at East High, football player, and resident slime-bucket to the girls -- although many girls take to it. Mr. Matsumoto, I hope you accept my apologies on behalf of your wife and your visitors."

"I accept. I realize you weren't yourself at the time."

"Thank you. My so-called parents were both strangers when I first woke up in bed in their house. They behaved as if I were always their son, and I couldn't behave otherwise. I would have thought it was pretense on their part, if I weren't compelled myself. My brother and sisters all seem to believe as well." He paused. "I realize that this is totally unbelievable."

"I agree, it would sound unbelievable," said Glenn, "if we weren't at a place where such things are practiced." `Keep it professional,' he thought to himself. `Keep personal issues out.'

Grandmother said, "Mr. Matsumoto is correct about the nature of Bikini Beach. Here, men and boys who visit become girls and women for the duration of their guest passes."

"Does that mean you can reverse this and I can become Wendy again?" asked Jim eagerly?

"We could, but because of the mage who transformed you, we won't restore you until we've dealt with him or her. We wish to keep him as ignorant as possible of what's happening. We will even have to return you as the `slime-bucket' if we can't come up with a plausible reason for you to change.

"For now, we need to provide a cover for Mr. Matsumoto to interview you properly, as your potential attorney." Grandmother looked at both Glenn and Jim. "Here's my proposal: Jim, you tried your schtick on a girl you met near downtown. She, to your surprise, joined you and proposed an afternoon together at Bikini Beach. You agreed for (*throat-clearing*) obvious reasons, and as a shock to the system, you became a girl yourself.

"Mr. Matsumoto, you would have to be that girl who encounters Jim and takes him to Bikini Beach: a sixteen-year-old girl just getting off from work. For reasons you'll understand, you and Jim took the bus here instead of driving."

Grandmother paused, apparently awaiting a reaction.

`Keep it strictly professional,' Glenn told himself, shuddering internally. `Do what's needed professionally. Don't let either fear or personal resentments rule you.' "That sounds reasonable. But what about your reality-shifts?" That was what disturbed Glenn the most, the affects on people's minds and memories.

"On Jim's part, it would be a standard local shift. When she gets home tonight, the girl Jim will be thought of as a daughter and sister until sometime around midnight. The next day, they will only remember Jim, and forget that he visited Bikini Beach.

Grandmother turned to Jim. "If, as I suspect, your family consists only of non-magical innocents or lackeys of the villains, they won't know any better. If one of your family members is a mage, especially the mage who changed you, he'll know. We hope, but we can't be certain, that he'll only see the cover story -- the trip with the girl to Bikini Beach for the day. If you can identify the mage, please, it's critically important, inform me as soon as you can.

"As for you, Mr. Matsumoto, we need to establish the cover story. It has to be a global reality-shift, in which, outside of Jim's local shift, you as the girl brought Jim the boy to Bikini Beach for a fun afternoon as a girl plus an attitude change. You will be your wife's oldest daughter. Your wife will now be a single mother, with a corresponding drop in your standard of living. Don't worry; it will last only until around two tonight. You will retain all the information, including the notes that you take here today and any other research you may do.

"You would have to go in first, to establish the global reality-shift, where you bring Jim here. You will know what to do when you change. Is this satisfactory?"

Glenn was seriously frightened, but he tried to keep it in. "It will do. Jim?"

"It's great!"

"I'll sell you two single-afternoon guest passes, and today's consultation will be free. It will be important, of course, for you to make optimal use of your time here to get all the information possible -- but also enjoy the attractions here just in case we've attracted the attention of the mage."

Grandmother prepared two guest passes for them, and quoted a rather expensive price. Glenn paid by credit card. "I have to phone my wife and also my paralegal, before doing anything."

"Certainly," said Grandmother, handing him a phone.

First, Glenn called his office manager and paralegal, Darline, and told her that he would be out of the office the rest of the day. Then he called home, hoping Ellen would be home by then.

"Hello?" answered Ellen.

"Hi Dear," said Glenn. "I'm at Bikini Beach now."

"I was hoping you'd find an alternative, but I guess it was necessary."

"The problem is serious, and I have to spend the rest of the afternoon here to take his case."

"I take it that means..." Ellen trailed off.

"It's only this afternoon and tonight, but our living situation will change. I don't know how." That last wasn't exactly a lie, because he didn't know how their situation would change. It would lose face to state outright that he'd be a teenage girl, Ellen's older daughter. The prospect itself was scaring him.

"Just don't get yourself trapped, Honey," said Ellen. "You have no idea what traps exist until you set one off, in which case it's too late."

Glenn shuddered, thinking back a decade earlier, when Alan had been his best friend and college roommate, until crossing Bikini Beach. Even then, Alan's change to Ellen would only have lasted a month, except that Glenn had knocked up Ellen, freezing the change permanently. Fortunately, things had worked out very well, and neither Glenn nor Ellen would give up (or kill off) Daisy for anything.

Now, if they were trapped, they would all be trapped in the impoverished life of a single mother.

"I'll do my best," he said.

"Love-ya," said Ellen.

"Love you too. Bye." Glenn hung up.

"Neither of you will become pregnant today, the primary trap that would force you to stay transformed for life," said Grandmother. "Both of you will be girls on the Pill, having taken it this morning and consistently the past couple of years. Mr. Matsumoto, it's your time to go. Shower; the water does the change. Best wishes."

Glenn took his pass and went to the men's changing room. He hesitated at the changing room a good solid minute before opening the door and entering. There was no way he could mentally prepare himself for what he knew was coming. Was he really going to change? To a girl? To a teenage girl?

He would know what to do, Grandmother said. He hoped he would do the right thing.

After showering, Glenn realized that he was now a girl named "Glinda", and Ellen was now her mom. He felt strange all over. Despite Grandmother's assurances, he didn't know what to do. He decided to return to his locker--

*******************************

Glinda was still in her McDonald's uniform, sitting between Jim and the window on the bus to Bikini Beach. The bus was exiting the freeway. Jim's arm rested on the seat back behind her, and just then he placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled back at him.

Jim was such a hunk, and was even being nice for now. Too bad his famed infamous sliminess had to emerge when she'd suggested the afternoon and evening at Bikini Beach: "Acres and acres of lovely ladies and gorgeous girls in abbreviated attire!" She thought that perhaps an afternoon spent on her side of the eternal gender divide might just be the thing to smooth out his rough edges. It occurred to her with a momentary pang of surprising jealousy, that that would probably make him irresistibly attractive to all girls everywhere. As it was, many girls apparently took to his very sliminess.

Back at the transit center, she'd phoned Mom at work and told her about taking a friend to Bikini Beach. She wondered if Mom knew anything about Bikini Beach's changing boys to girls. If Mom did, she didn't give any indication; Mom only wished her a fun afternoon. The hint of disapproval was no doubt due to Bikini Beach's well-known expensive memberships and guest passes.

Then at the bus stop, he'd scanned the waiting ridership, mostly girls already in their swimwear under tee-shirts, and said, "Oh my, the steam's going to fog up the whole bus. How is the driver ever going to make it to our destination?! This bus is going to be a sauna, with all the beauteous babes in bikinis."

`Little does he know,' chuckled Glinda to herself. `He's going to be one himself.'

"Of course," Jim continued, turning back to Glinda, "You out-steam them all, you in your lovely McDonald's uniform." He scanned her up and down. "I fear for my heart, when I see you on the other side of the changing rooms."

"Oh, poof!" Glinda exclaimed. "Flatterer!" She swatted him lightly in affection.

The bus arrived at Bikini Beach, and they disembarked with the rest of the passengers.

The lines weren't long at all at this time of day, and in almost no time, they reached the ticket booth.

"Hello, may I help you?" asked the young lady manning the booth.

"We wish to purchase two guest passes for the afternoon," said Glinda.

"We have a three-week special, for the price of three day passes," said the ticket lady.

"I'm afraid we must decline the offer. Maybe next time. For now, just the afternoon and evening."

As Glinda handed over her credit card, Jim fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I should pay."

"No, you're my guest here," said Glinda, as the lady took and swiped her credit card. "Miss, our decision to visit Bikini Beach was spontaneous, and we didn't stop to get swimwear, assuming that Bikini Beach would have some for sale."

"Certainly. We carry a variety, which we sell at excellent prices." She directed them to a table off to the side.

A tiny blue and silver thong bikini beckoned to Glinda. Now *that* would be daring, she thought excitedly. Bikinis were routine, ordinary, boring, and conservative. Mom need never know if she wore this at Bikini Beach.

A middle-aged woman also looking over the swimsuits leaned over and said softly, "Young lady, you probably don't want to be in one of those for hours on end. Not unless you're the masochistic type who enjoys being sawed in half down there. Dental floss is meant to clean your teeth."

Glinda quickly dismissed the woman's advice, realizing that this just might be her once-in-a-lifetime chance to wear such a thing. Meanwhile, Jim got swimming trunks extending down to his knees. Glinda was surprised; she expected something more in the spirit of Speedos, or at least the old-fashioned swimwear boys used to wear a generation earlier, considerably shorter than these days.

"Shower when you change," said the saleslady, as Jim this time paid for both swimsuits. "It's a Bikini Beach health requirement."

Jim and Glinda went to their respective locker rooms. Glinda hoped she would recognize the female Jim on the other side.

        That Evening

GLENN, NOW GLINDA, a sixteen-year-old Japanese-American girl, got off the bus from Bikini Beach with Wendy. It was now eight-thirty and already dark. They'd had lots of fun at Bikini Beach.

Glinda had recovered her memories of Glenn, and the job she had to do, in the showers of the women's changing room. She realized that Grandmother had temporarily made her completely Glinda in the men's changing room and shifted her to the bus, to keep the situation as plausible as possible. Jim had probably temporarily forgotten his purpose and reality as Wendy.

As a side bonus, Glinda remembered Alima al-Hamdani, who had consulted Glenn a week earlier. She realized that Glenn had completely forgotten her. As soon as Glenn returned, he would have to go back and check his records. Right then and there, Glinda extracted her notebook and jotted down everything she remembered about al-Hamdani's consultation. She suspected that his complete loss of memory of her and her consultation was due to a reality shift. A mage may have done something to her.

She'd had to push through the mortification and physical strangeness of being a hot teenybopper girl, especially in the skimpy thong bikini. She'd wondered what possessed her to choose it, but now she had to live with it.

Worse still, she'd discovered that she really was that masochistic type the woman had alluded to. She thought back to accounts Glenn had once read about the most brutally painful ways of death, and thought she might actually enjoy being inverted and sawed in half down through the crotch.

She'd recognized Wendy, the female Jim, immediately. She was wearing an identical thong bikini except for the green color. They'd both gone bug-eyed at each other upon meeting. But Wendy's mind was apparently the mind of the original Wendy.

Wendy had recovered first, and spoken. "Shall we get down to business now?"

"Yes, of course," said Glinda, now with Glenn's mind.

During their enjoyment of the activities -- waiting in line and relaxing at the pools -- she'd obtained plenty of information from Wendy. How useful it would prove, that was another question; it was primarily about the research done in her department. The use of magic had changed things, and she now suspected that she was out of her league, where the law would be useless in solving the problem. Nevertheless, once she turned back to Glenn, he would do his best to help Jim.

Bikini Beach was intended as a place girls and women could relax, enjoy swimming, and enjoy the waterpark rides without boys ogling them. It didn't keep half the girls they met from ogling them, though. But they both managed to disregard them and do their work and enjoy the activities.

At one point, Glinda brought up Alima al-Hamdani, and asked if Wendy knew her. She thought the apparent Bikini-Beach-type reality shifts were a point of commonality in the two cases.

"She joined our department shortly before I got zapped," replied Wendy. "I never got to know her, and I never thought of her while I was Jim."

So that was al-Hamdani's "true major", Glinda realized. Wendy explained that the department was a combination of magical studies and applied neuroscience with emphasis on mind influence.

They both went to see Grandmother to discuss al-Hamdani's issue. Grandmother agreed to check to see if a reality-shift occurred. "It's also possible that you were bespelled to forget Ms. al-Hamdani."

"I'll check my records back in the office tomorrow," Glinda said, noting it in her notebook. "I assume correctly that I'll still remember this, Ma'am?"

"Yes, you will remember, as long as the mage doesn't find out and have a chance to bespell you."

"So, if my notes of Miss al-Hamdani are intact, that means that I was simply spelled to forget, but if my notes are gone, that means a reality-shift."

"Probably, although the mage could as well make the notes disappear. The simplest way would be to see if the University has any records of such a student."

"Of course," Glinda said.

After bidding Wendy goodbye at the transit center, she automatically went to the bus that stopped near the apartment building she now lived in. She was momentarily disoriented when she realized where she was going, but then remembered.

She spotted a black man who lived with his little sister on the same floor as herself. "Hey, Andy." She went up to him.

"Hi, Glinda. How have you been?" he asked.

"Today was fun. This afternoon, I went with a friend to Bikini Beach." Of course, Glinda didn't tell him it was a guy, and calling him a friend was a minor exaggeration -- although if Glinda remained Glinda, she could envision them becoming friends or more. She wasn't going to say anything about Bikini Beach's transformations.

The bus was ready to board. She sat next to him, and they continued talking. "Interesting," he said. "Jen's mom took Jen and Xena to Bikini Beach last Saturday. She got them long memberships in the water park." He sighed. "They went again yesterday. Jen and Xena have been together so much -- Xena's even taking summer classes with Jen; she's practically moved in with her, and often speaks Chinese with her. They've already made new friends at Bikini Beach, so I'm probably going to see even less of Xena than before."

Glinda felt sorry for him. Xena was a nice little sister, only about three years younger than herself.

Eventually, they got off the bus and walked the half block to their apartment building, and upstairs to the second floor. Glinda momentarily thought of giving Andy a hug, but decided against it. Andy opened the door, and first Xene then Jen appeared.

"Hi, Jen and Xena. Andy, looks like Jen's sleeping over for the night. Good night, all."

"Bye" and "Good night," said everyone.

It occurred to Glinda, as she continued on to her own apartment, that she had just passed the one possible trap: possibly making love with Andy and getting pregnant despite her birth control pills. Now, if no one invaded the apartment and raped her...

As she inserted her key and opened the door, she wondered if Ellen or Daisy would remember her as Glenn. It momentarily occurred to her that they might be back at the old house. But no, Ellen greeted her as she entered.

"Hi Glinda." They hugged. "How was Bikini Beach?"

Glinda stood back and looked Ellen over. Mom -- she had to think of her as Mom now -- looked older, tired, care-worn, jaded. She now had to work to support Glinda and Daisy, as well as take care of them. It occurred to Glinda that Mom might have been unhappy with the expense -- and also with Glinda going to Bikini Beach. But she wouldn't bring it up if Mom didn't.

"It was fun for both of us, a new experience." She didn't know if Mom knew that she had taken a guy to be changed, or that she had done it to untwist his mind and get necessary information. In fact, in this reality, Mom had never told Glinda or Daisy about her own experience with Bikini Beach. "Hey, Daisy!"

Daisy was approaching slowly and warily from the hallway, dressed in her sleepwear, apparently ready for bed.