Note to readers.Edited by Patricia Marie Allen
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?

 

“You need a bra,” mom said.

“Definitely,” dad added.

“What bra?” I whined. “I’m a boy…”

“Take it like a man,” dad said, “you are a girl this summer.”

“We need to buy you a bra,” mom said.

“I can take one of Tiff’s,” I offered.

“No!” Mom complained. “It’s not good to borrow underwear. Even if it’s your big sister’s.”

“Ha-ha,” dad chuckled. “You’ll see now what it is to be a girl – a shopping trip with your mom ahead.”

“I can’t,” mom said.

“Why not?”dad wondered.

“I have twenty-four hours shift tomorrow,” mom said. She worked in the hospital. It could be day shift, grave-yard shift, or twenty-four hours shift. Tomorrow she’ll leave at six in the morning and come back the next day at ten.Then she will sleep in till the afternoon the day after tomorrow.

“Will you be so dear to take her to the mall tomorrow?” she asked.

“Her?” dad asked.

“As you’ve said yourself – Ronnie will be the girl this summer,” mom replied. “Back to bra problem. Will you take her to the mall tomorrow?”

“Huh… No…” he replied. “I have three surgeries planned. A day after tomorrow I’ll have classes till eleven and then I’m free until planned surgery at two.”

“Very well,” I said.

“What?” dad asked.

“I too am busy tomorrow,” I replied.

“What will you do?” mom inquired.

“I’ll help Alice to get ready.”

“Why you?” mom wondered. “Isn’t this her mom’s duty?”

“Her mom is working the same as you.”

“Do not talk like that,” mom complained. “I’m always here for you.”

“Yes, of course!” I replied, “You and I will go tomorrow to buy my very first bra.”

“Don’t whine! You know I’m working tomorrow.”

“Exactly, what I said.”

“Anyway, you too are busy tomorrow,” mom said. “How exactly you’ll help Alice?”

“Hair and make-up.”

“MAKE-UP???” she shrieked. Then she added more calmly, “what do you know about make-up? Another question is how do you know about it?”

“A. My primary task is to stop her when she makes a clown of herself. B. You insisted for I take Home Economy classes along with a workshop. I got all basic knowledge like skin types and colors, foundations and contouring, and filling and shading.”

“Do you really know how to apply the make-up?” dad wondered.

“Sure I do,” I replied. “Haven’t you noticed that I’m a straight-A student?”

“You are, indeed,” Dad had to agree.

“That means I have done all homework, all assignments, and did all projects in all classes. Including Home Ec.”

It was like some gears were turning in mom and dad’s heads. Mom wanted to say something but only sighed and resigned. Dad sighed too.

“You know how to do a hair then?” mom asked after a while.

“There is not much doing. Only to curl the ends. Alice keeps her hair shorter than I do.”

“And her date?” dad asked suddenly.

“What date?” I wasn’t sure I understood what dad was asking. “The date is tomorrow night. The prom night.”

“I mean her boyfriend. The one who will take her to the prom,” dad explained.

“Ah… I see. Ozzie Carter. Why asking?”

“What does he think about all this…?”

“About what?” I asked. He better say it straight, not equivocated.

“About a boy helping his girlfriend Alice get ready for prom,” mom explained.

“What boy?”

“You,” dad said.

“I? I’m not a boy. You have said I’m a girl this summer. And I’ll be not alone.There will be other girls too.”

“Are these girls your friends like Alice?” mom asked.

“Yeah, they are. Why asking?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” dad asked.

“Yeah, I do have some.”

“SOME?” dad raised his eyebrows.

“So what?”

“I mean. Your friends, err… girls have boyfriends with whom they go on date. Do you have such a boyfriend?”

“Sure I don’t. Why would I? I’m a boy,” I retorted.

“You say you are a girl.”

“You say I am a girl, not I. And talking of it, I didn’t know I was a girl the last time I saw my friends.”

“There is a boy, who comes to you frequently. Jake? Joe? Don’t remember his name,” mom started.

“Steven?” I offered.

“Yes! Steven,” she said. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Alice says he is.”

“To the hell with Alice!” dad interrupted.

“PAUL!” mom raised her voice and then asked calmly, “don’t you like him?”

“Sure I do! How could be otherwise? We are partners,” I exclaimed.

“What partners?” dad asked worriedly.

“We tune up muscle cars.”

“WHAT?” they asked in unison.

“Cars to show off. Or for street racing,” I tried to explain.

“What do you do with those cars?”

“My domain is EPROM reprogramming…”

“What’s that?” dad asked.

“Chip,” I said. Dad didn’t react. He probably didn’t understand. “Computer. Car’s computer…”

“Ah… I see,” he said.“How?”

“The first thing I do is I switch off EGR. As if it wasn’t invented yet. This way I gain ten to fifteen percent of power.”

“It’s all Greek to me,” dad said.

 

Note to readers. Edited by Patricia Marie Allen
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?

 

One of the most pleasant vacation advantages is no alarm in the morning. And then a day without worries.

I was up at eight. Mom and dad had left already. Mom was a nurse and dad was a technician. His job was those scary shiny things to keep broken bones together.

They both were working but money still was an issue. Mortgage, Tiff’s college, cars, insurance, etc. We tried not to spend where it was possible. There came Tiff’s hand-me-downs. Nothing girly. Just basic most androgynous things – tees, shirts, shorts, trainers, and jeans. If they were boyfriend cut.

I wasn’t in dresses. Alice’s dress was the first I’d put on. And make-up was applied not more than it was necessary for classes and homework.

And now a girl for the summer. Was it a kind of punishment? For something I did but didn’t know I have done.

To be a girl is not only the bra. Girls have breasts but don’t have willy. Good thing my puberty was behind the schedule and I wasn’t hairy and still sounded rather like a mom than like dad. The only thing to accomplish was to hide my willy.

I had glue and a solvent. If they were good for the falsies they will be good for the rest. I pulled my balls inside. It hurt a little but the pain was gone shortly. Then I smeared the glue on my willy and pulled it down and back. After ten minutes the glue had set.

If rents wanted the girl they had the girl now. Until the glue wears off.

Alice had finished her dress. It was perfect. Her hair and make-up didn’t take long. I convinced her to follow our teacher’s words “Less is better”.

At three Alice’s mom came home and I left. From now she will be in charge. Mom has to farewell her daughter to the prom, not the daughter’s friend.

I went home and I was stuck here. Without a bra, I couldn’t go out. I didn’t tell Alice what my rents had planned for me for the rest of the summer. I didn’t want for her to feel guilty for talking me into gluing those falsies on.

Dad had called. He had emergency surgery. He said not to wait for him. It was the usual thing for him to come home late.

The doorbell rang and the door was opened not waiting for me to answer. It could be only Steven. I wondered why mom didn’t remember his name. Steven was just like another son for my rents. The same like I was for Steven’s rents.

“It’s me!” Steve shouted closing the entrance door behind him. “Ron! Where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” I shouted back and then it dawned to me that I was without a bra. “I’m not decent!”

“C’mon man! You have nothing I don’t have,” Steve said entering the kitchen.

I turned around to hide my breasts because mom said they were visible through my tee.

Steve put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around and looked at me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Mom and dad sentenced me to be a girl this summer for helping Alice. Alice asked to model her prom dress and glued falsies on me. Mom said I looked like a girl and I had to be a girl till the glue wears off and I give those falsies back to Alice,” I answered trying to make it clear.

“Alice? Who the fuck is Alice?” Steve wondered.

“She’s my neighbor. She’s from our school but she’s senior and today is Prom day.”

“What she had glued on you?” he asked.

“Falsies. Breasts.”

“Where?”

“Here,on my chest,” I replied pointing to my chest.

Steve squinted and cocked his head to one side, then to another side.

“These are pimples,” he stated at last.

“You don’t like them?”

“I prefer them bigger. Heavily padded bra could help,” he said.

“Doesn’t it bother you that I’m a boy?” I asked.

“Are you?”

“Huh…?”

“You say your mom says you are the girl now.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Sure we are. I like you even more as a girl even without boobage,” Steve replied.

“But doesn’t it bother you what I have between my legs?”

“As far as I can remember there never was much here and…”

“What?”

“Knowing you and your dutifulness I guess there is kind of a void between your legs now.”

“Am I really so predictable?” I wondered.

“I know you from preschool,” he said, “twelve years already. O, boy… Sorry. O girl, can you imagine, we lived together more than without each other.”

A pregnant pause followed.

Then Steve said, “Why am I here?”

“You didn’t say,” I shrugged.

“I’ve got a diagnostic tablet with a universal connector!”

“Free?” I wondered. A thing with software and connector was worth a couple of thousands if new.

“Free. My sis Brie has a friend Molly, Molly has a brother Sean, Sean has a girlfriend Lucy, and Lucy’s dad has a thing. He got to know we do cars. He gives it to us if we will diagnose his two cars whenever he needs them to be diagnosed. Good deal?”

“Excellent! Oh, Stevie, you are the bestest!” I was ready to kiss him. But then I thought it could be inappropriate. Instead, I hugged him and he hugged me back.

 
Note to readers. Edited by Patricia Marie Allen
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?
 

When Steve left it dawned to me he wasn’t surprised I was told to be a girl. Kinda it was ok. Kinda it may happen to any boy. And happens from time to time. As if some of our friends have gone through this and who cares.

There was something behind this girl stuff.

Have I missed something?

Mom and dad say they don’t know Alice. Nonsense! They know and they knew all the time. Spencers are our neighbors. How can it be otherwise?

Mom says she doesn’t remember Steve’s name. Nonsense! We have been together since kindergarten. Our mothers are friends. Or were? They worked then in the same ward and planed their shifts so that mom could babysit Steve and Brie or Steve’s mom could babysit Tiff and me.

Dad says he doesn’t know about me doing make-up. Mom has bought me a make-up starter kit for my classes last year. Don’t they talk to each other?

I wrote questions on a sheet of paper. It sounded to me like some conspiracy.

I’ll give those questions to dad. Will he answer or will he dodge?

There is the saying – the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I made croutons and thick cauliflower garlic stew, dad’s favorite.

He had called saying he may be late. And he was late. It was already ten-twenty when he got home. I warmed stew and croutons and we sat to eat at the kitchen table.

When we finished and dad was about to leave for the night, I slipped him a sheet with questions.

“Can’t it wait till the morning?” he asked.

“No,” I replied, “tomorrow you’ll leave early again.”

He quickly scanned the questions and sighed.

“Guilty,” he said.

He sat down, sighed again, and scratched his elbows. He did it when he was nervous.

“You are like Kevin. He’s really a cousin of some sort, but we’ve always called him an uncle.” he said.

Yes, there was uncle Kevin. But I didn’t understand how I was like him.

“How?” I asked.

“Let say, it was an evident problem for more than a year. You always were a perfect student and overall a good kid. The problem was you were… And you still are sending feminine vibes into the universe. Like if you are a girl pretending to be a boy. In this, you resemble your uncle Kevin. When he was your age he was like you. Kinda a girl disguised as a boy. His mom was progressive and she encouraged him to visit the shrink. Take some tests and evaluations, then maybe blockers and HRT. He refused. Then puberty hit at seventeen. It’s with all boys in our family the same. He became like I – tall square hairy bass. He was a senior when his mom, my aunt found him hanging in the barn. She was in time to rescue him. The next time he tried to cut his veins when in college. He was saved by his dorm roommate. Now he is the most miserable person in the whole family. Despite his perfect education and talent in technical writing. No family, no social life, no smile since he was a kid.”

“I’m not like him,” I complained.

“I know,” dad said. “You are worse. You are in denial.”

“I’m not.”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” dad said. “You never took an opportunity to try Tiff’s girly stuff. You never applied the make-up on yourself though you had all possible excuses and possibilities. And knowledge. You never did your hair though it’s longer than most your girl friends have it.”

“That doesn’t prove anything. Only that I’m a boy,” I retorted.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But let face the facts – you do what no man will do even if paid. Like gluing falsies to try the dress. I can’t believe there is no other girl in your pack of Alice’s complexion. Or participating in make-up, hairdo, or fashion class projects. Yes, you got additional credits. The same credits you could get for shop projects. As an extracurricular activity, your choice was like other girls’ – sitting little kids at preschool.”

“As I say, it doesn’t prove…”

“I know. Every single fact doesn’t prove anything. But all these facts in one place are the proof. You did everything the same as uncle Kevin. As if you were reading his diary, if there was such.”

“I didn’t…”

“I know. He burnt his diary years ago. But now you are comfortable with what you have. The same as Kevin all those years ago. For you, it’s like balancing over a thin line. Now it’s ok. You are feminine on the inside and not masculine on the outside. You want it like it is now. Like tomboy. No obligations. No waves raised. But then puberty will come. It will. It always comes. And that thin line you are balancing on now will become a blade. Razorblade. That blade will cut you in half.”

“So what do you offer?”

“No obligation from you. Just try to be a girl for summer. Not for school. No shrinks, no pills, no shots. If you are lucky and you are like I and other men in our family, you have a year.”

“Are those falsies, glue, and Alice’s dress, all this, the part of the conspiracy?”

“No,” he replied. “It was a coincidence. We knew you were friends. But we didn’t know she’s a senior. And we didn’t know about her class project. It was the chance we couldn’t miss. The chance to make you a girl for summer.”

We stayed in silence for a while. I didn’t know what to say. Then dad sighed.

“Ok,” I said.

“Do you agree?” dad asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I replied. What I didn’t say, was that I had my boy’s bits glued already. Maybe I’ll survive.

 
Note to readers. Edited by Patricia Marie Allen
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?
 

It was late and we called it a night. I was in bed. But I couldn’t sleep. I thought about my near future. And about what dad had said.

I was in the middle of the musing about what it will be. And then an insight popped in my head and I couldn’t chase it away. I couldn’t go shopping with dad. Or could I? One of the rents on my side isn’t just a cardholder. If only that, they could give me some cash and I could go to Walmart.

Why dad? Or rather, why not mom? Was she ashamed to be with me in public? Like she wanted me to help but instinctively she saw it like perversion. Why was she so eager to pass my first bra-buying trip to dad?

It was already almost dawn when I fell asleep. But it wasn’t the real sleep. I was rather dozing.

I woke up when I heard a movement in my parents’ bedroom.

I met dad in the kitchen with his cup of coffee. It was rather a mug. There was “DAD” on it. This mug was my present for Father’s day.

“Will you go with me to the mall today?” I wanted to remind him. But it sounded like I was whining.

“Sure,” he replied. “How could I miss it? It’s an important day to you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… It is,” I confirmed.

I was kinda stuck at home. According to mom and dad, I couldn’t go outside without a bra. I could. But not far. Like to visit Alice. But it was an early morning after the prom night. No. She’d in bed still.

I tried to watch TV. TV at eight in the morning? Only for kids. Not kids like me kids but kids like toddler kids. Ewww… Or sport. Or news.

I was nervous. I didn’t know why. But it was like that. I determined we had no magazines at home. Only two issues of National Geographic in the living room. One twenty-four years old. Older than me. But still glossy. Another was only ten years old. I guessed they were like design elements. A few years ago we had a Sears’ catalog as old as those magazines. But Tiff used it for some class project. So only magazines were left.

I flipped their pages first. Then I read an article about Lucy. I was about to look for more on the net. But mom was at home at last.

“Will you go with me to the mall?” I asked. “Instead of dad.”

“Is your father busy today?” she inquired.

“No… No, he isn’t. I just… thinking… maybe you… like it more…” I tried to suggest.

“Not now,” mom begged. “I’m dead. Maybe later… if dad can’t.”

“Ok. No prob… I’m good,” I assured.

Nothing new. Good or bad. I still wasn’t sure why. But mom didn’t want to go. A. Cuz I’m a boy. Or B. She’s tired. Or both.

It didn’t take long for dad to come home. He didn’t have his coffee.

“Time is money,” he said.

We rode his car to the mall.

I was sure we were about to go to Victoria’s Secret. Like a classic place of extreme femininity. Where any masculinity would be defeated.

No such luck. Dad guided me to some store. I didn’t make it what the store’s name was. Dad led me to the far, far end with ladies’ underwear. It was named lingerie.

I was right. Dad had no idea where to look. And what to look for. I was about to browse through what was on the racks but he dragged me to the checkstand.

“We need the bra,” he said to the saleslady behind the counter.

“For Ronnie here,” he added pointing his index finger at me. Though both rents insisted pointing the index finger at someone was impolite. Very. Scandalous almost.

Well. I could understand him. He was in enemy territory. But so was I.

“Moment, plzzz…” said the saleslady and motioned her hand over her head and a younger assistant approached.

“Hellooo, my name is Lizbeth. How can I help you?” the younger saleslady introduced.

“We need the bra for Ronnie here,” dad recited again. He’d learned that line by heart probably.

Lizbeth turned from dad and looked at me. Like a cat at a mouse. Or Winnie-the-Pooh at honey. Your choice.

“Oh…” was her first reaction. She squinted measuring me from head to the waist and then back again to my eyes.

“I know you,” she said at last.

Shit! It was the last thing I wanted – to meet someone I know. Or someone who knew me but I didn’t.

“You are Steve’s girlfriend,” Lizbeth declared.

“Huh?” dad cocked his head and raised his left eyebrow. I don’t know how he manages to do this. To raise only one eyebrow that is.

“Oh!” Lizbeth said again. She covered her mouth with a hand as to prevent escaping some top-secret information. “I don’t…”

“Ok,” I interrupted, “we are friends.”

“Ah…” dad said.

“You know him. Steve, I mean,” I turned to dad.

“Sure,” dad confirmed.

“So?” I turned to Lizbeth.

“Huh? Yes… Sorry… What size and style?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “This one is my first.”

“Oh… Really? Let’s go to changing room,” and she turned toward the changing rooms.

We were about to follow her. Lizbeth stopped and turned around.

“Stay here, sir,” she said to dad. Her “sir” sounded like the most derogatory word as she’d said it.

Dad stayed at the counter. We both entered the first unoccupied changing room.

“Undress, please,” she said.

I hadn’t much to undress, just a tee. Not the same as the day before but scoop neck again. Only navy this time.

Lizbeth measured with tape my chest and breasts. She groped one breast gently.

“Falsies?” she rather stated than questioned.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“Very smart of you to start with small size,” she said. “Boobs’ fairy isn’t equally generous to everyone. But it doesn’t mean one has to go overboard. I remember my friend; she was as flat as a plank. And one day, good morning America! she’s with D-cup. It wasn’t funny. Rather pathetic.”

Lizbeth wrote numbers down and declared, “23B.”

“What style?” she asked after a while.

“Dunno…”

“I’d recommend full cup. The full cup looks like there is something real inside. With some padding. More volume more fun. Maybe some push-up. Just a little hint there may be a cleavage one day. No wire. Falsies don’t like it. And a lot of lace cuz it’s summer.”

“Ok,” I nodded.

“How much your daddy is ready to pay?”

“Not much, I guess. What I wear is my sister’s hand-me-downs,” I explained.

“Falsies are rather expensive. Professional grade,” Lizbeth remarked.

“Alice did a dress for herself for prom night. She wanted me to be her dummy. I’m flat so she offered falsies,” I said. “So those are really not mine but Alice’s.”

“Who the hell is Alice?”

 
Note to readers. Edited by Patricia Marie Allen
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?
 

I ended with two bras and a seamless panties pack. I opted for some nude color, but…

“When you will have something to show you may want to hide the support,” Lizbeth, the saleslady explained. “But now you have nothing. The bra is the only proof there is something.”

She’s an expert, not me. I never wore anything feminine before. This was the first time. Lizbeth tied the bottom of my tee into the knot. Thus my tee became skin tight and the scoop neck was even more open showing the top of black lace. And my midriff was showing. The overall feeling was new and something exciting.

The bra was the only thing I had to buy. We left after operation “Buy the first bra” was completed. I could spend more time in the mall. Especially that now people looked at me something different. And I liked it. But dad had to return to the hospital. So we left.

I skipped through the parking lot to dad’s car and was waiting for him to press the remote and unlock the door.

He grinned looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You look different,” he replied. “Like you but not exactly the same you.”

“Yeah… I know what you mean,” I agreed. “I feel quite the same as you say.”

He dropped me at home and was about to leave.

“Am I under house arrest yet?” I asked. “Can I meet friends? As I’m decent now?”

“Why not,” dad replied. “Don’t want to change into something different than this tee?”

“Sure,” I said.

Mom was still in bed. She will be till three or four. Then she would start vacuuming rooms and dusting shelves. If I would stay at home I’d got my share of cleaning too. Not that the house was a mess. It was rather her way to relax. Usually after a twenty-four-hour shift.

I called Steve. He was waiting for me in his garage. His job was always dirty. He was kinda blue-collar. While I was white. The collar I mean. Hands too.

I had a bra now. And I wanted to show off. Maybe a little only. I opted for a button-down shirt. Like flannel but it only looked like one. It was of fine material. Not mine. Like all other things, the shirt belonged to Tiff. So it was a girls’ shirt with buttons on the left. I didn’t button up. I tied its hem knotted.

For the bottom, I usually had denim cutoffs. As I was a girl today I choose Tiff’s denim short shorts. My ass wasn’t big enough to fill the shorts tight. But the look was better than cutoffs.

For the same “a girl now” reason I tied my hair in a high ponytail with a plain scrunchie. Atop I tied a ribbon of the same material as the shirt. It was intended to be tied around the waist. But I improvised differently.

Instead of two minutes, it took me about an hour to get ready. No make-up, just eyeliner. Another fifteen minutes later I was in Steve’s garage. His head was under the car’s hood.

I stood at his side and was waiting for him to straighten up to his full height. His wrench slipped off the nut and dropped down under the car.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Steve exclaimed. Then he noticed me and said, “Sorry. Who…”

Steve gaped at me for a while.

“Like it?” I inquired.

“Not bad,” he stated at last.

His stare was fixed on my bra. Or boobs. But there was nothing. And he had to know there was nothing. Only pimples. His words.

While talking with me he tried to look me in the eyes but his gaze, again and again, skidded to my boobs. Or to my legs. And then to midriff and boobs again. He didn’t touch me. But his stare was almost palpable. Like some insect crawling.

Steve always behaved this way in presence of other girls. Other girls…

I felt something creepy to be undressed by his eyes. At the same time, it was kinda exciting.

It didn’t last long. I mean Steve’s gaping at me.

We had a job to do. He continued what he was doing before. Cursing from time to time.

I had a new tablet to acquire to our needs. That was connecting it to my laptop through the universal port and enabling editing of functions. Not only EPROM’s error reset. It was complicated. Both computer and tablet had their own minds. I was cursing from time to time too. Probably more than Steve.

I thought I worked a couple of hours. Maybe three. It was dark when I got out of the garage.

“Shit!” I complained to Steve, “why didn’t you remind me it was late?”

“You were busy, I was busy…”

How did it happen mom didn’t call me? I checked my phone. Well, I wanted to check my phone. I hadn’t it. I wasn’t wearing regular cutoffs. Short shorts had tiny pockets but those were only decorations. No way to put a phone in a pocket like before. No place even for keys.

“I’m so dead,” I muttered. “Mom will kill me.”

“I’ll take you home,” Steve offered.

He had a car that was on go. Marlin. He, Marlin, was older than my dad. Once he was a luxury car. He wasn’t anymore. But he was on the go.

At home, rents were watching TV. I tried to slip past them to my room, but…

“Ronnie, come here” dad ordered.

“I know,” I tried my best to apologize, “I left my phone at home.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I found it after I tried to reach you.”

Mom and dad looked me up and down attentively.

“What’s with your eyes?” dad asked.

“Make-up,” mom said. “I didn’t expect for you to look so…”

“Hot,” dad finished.

“Such a girl,” mom shook her head, “from now on, young lady, your curfew is when the street lights come on.”

“For your safety, princess,” dad added.

 
Supplement 6 (Final) - Robert and Tomboy
 

Note to readers. Don't read if you don't like poor grammar, this is rough.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?
 

June. Saturday. At last whole family at home together. Well, without Tiff. She’s in college.

Mom was after the second twenty-four-hour shift the same week. She was free until Tuesday.

Dad had six emergency surgeries this week and the hospital promised to call somebody else if needed.

I was at home too. Steve with his dad was on the fishing trip. I’d been with them once two years ago. Didn’t like. It was a “Feed the mosquitoes” project. Plus a terrible sunburn. Thank you very much! Steve went only with his dad this year. Alice with her parents was arranging her accommodation near uni. She wanted to take some summer classes there.

We were in the backyard barbecuing. Mom was in a light blue gingham shirt dress. Dad was wearing shorts and a tee. I was in a short denim skirt and cropped tube top with a built-in padded bra.

Dad was busying with the meat and coal. Mom and I prepped young potatoes for baking wrapped in foil and veggies for the salad.

We all were in the backyard. The sun was shining but the weather wasn’t hot. Just comfortable warm.

The car stopped in the driveway.

Mom and dad looked at each other. We didn’t expect anybody. Our backyard isn’t big. Enough just for our family.

We heard car doors open and close. The doorbell rang and somebody entered the home without waiting to be invited. Then the door to the patio opened and there was she – Tiffany, my sis.

I didn’t know how will she react to seeing me in her skirt. And tube top. With tits.

She wasn’t alone.

“Heya!” she said. “Mom, dad, this is Robert and Ted.”

Only as she said this I’d noticed a kitten in her hands.

“Which is which?” dad asked.

“Sorry… This is Ted,” she turned to the man. “He’s my friend and colleague.”

Then looked at the kitten.

“This is Robert. I’ve rescued him the last week. I want to leave him here. The dorm doesn’t allow pets.”

“Why Robert?” dad asked.

“Cuz he’s a boy.”

I was the nearest to Tiff and she handed Robert to me.

He was sleepy. And cute. His fur was still that disheveled not like fluffy puppies. Then Robert yawned and opened his eyes. One eye was normal of yellow color, another one was of steel color without a pupil. He stretched at last showing us his claws – long and as sharp as needles.

“Pantyhose ripper,” I commented.

“He’ll grow up till the pantyhose season,” mom objected taking Robert from my hands.

I didn’t remember talking about having a pet, dog, or cat. Only once dad had mentioned that we couldn’t have a dog cuz of our chaotic being at home schedule.

Now I had an impression mom will take Robert home.

“I have his dowry in the car,” Tiff said.

“What?” dad wondered.

“Litter tray, bowls, crib,” Tiff explained.

Tiff, mom, and I went to the car to take Robert’s belongings. Robert was with us. Mom was showing him where she put the litter tray and crib. He instantly used his toilet.

“He accepts our home as his own,” mom said.

We all went back to dad and Ted. They both stood at the barbecue. Ted was smoking a cigarette.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” I rather stated. Tiff had said more than once she would never live with a smoker.

”I asked Ted to evaluate Ronnie,” she replied.

“Why?” I wondered. I sure wanted to say something else. But rents were here and I didn’t want to be grounded for all summer because of my foul mouth.

“Because, silly, we need to know how much girl and boy you are.”

That made me blush instantly. I felt my cheeks burn.

“It will not take long,” Ted said, “No more than an hour.”

“I suppose you’ll need some privacy,” mom offered, “maybe in the living room?”

I was left in the room with Ted alone. I expected some direct questions kinda how girly I felt or why I wanted or didn’t want to be a girl. Yeah, it was like a quiz. But questions were about everything. And he wanted more detailed answers why I felt one way or another.

One hour and seven minutes later (we had a digital clock in the living room and it was easy to calculate the exact time) we were in the backyard again. We sat at the table on the patio.

“So…” dad started, “what do you think about Ronnie?”

“Definitely a tomboy,” Ted said with a chuckle.

Other adults snickered too and I blushed.

“Ronnie is still rebellious like all teenagers. This adds some boyishness to her character. But only on the surface. Inside she’s one hundred percent girl.”

“But…” I tried to complain.

“I know your biology,” Ted said. “It doesn’t change the end result. But I recommend you to ask for the evaluation of no less than two other specialists. Just to be sure.”

“It proves I was right,” Tiff started, “asking Alice to glue those falsies on you.”

“Who’s Alice?” Ted asked.