"No, I think that's it and quite enough too." I saw her smile at that. "It's almost as if someone made that Chinese curse on me. You know the one about living in interesting times?"

"I don't know how parents survive!" she exclaimed. "You've been with me for what — five or six weeks now, and I feel like I'm either going to have gray hair or a heart attack or both! And the thing is, you're just skipping along, tra la la, and — oh! I'm a girl! oh! I have a boyfriend! oh! I climbed the school building! oh! I have breasts!"

The plot thickens...or is that the gravy???

For my part, I kept looking down at my breasts. They weren't very big, but they were mine. Home grown. I grew them myself, I said to myself proudly, from all-natural ingredients. They were the same size as the little bags I used to use for padding, but these babies were real, and they wouldn't shift or fall out.

"Hon, the fact that you are so anxious may indicate that have never been on a real date. You may have been out with friends and may have received a kiss from a boy that you cared for very much, but dating a strange man that you don't know is a new and exciting experience. You have got to date and play the field if you ever expect to get married and have a happy home life."

Denise and I both stayed out of school on Friday. I had my tea with me, and made sure I didn't miss my daily cup. By now I had breasts like little half-apples, and no longer needed padding to fill my bra. They weren't big breasts, but they were mine, and I hoped the tea would keep them growing.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Marcie," Mr. Bryant said, "but I can't hug you. I can send for the nurse, though."

In spite of everything, this made me laugh. "So she can hug me for you?"

"Yeah, whatever," he said. "Hey, I can only give you a quick kiss with my parents watching."

I smiled. "I understand." I got up on tiptoe, and he gave me a peck on the lips. Resting my head on his chest, I hugged him tight. Then I noticed that my left foot had "popped," like the girl in The Princess Diaries, so I put it back on the ground and let go. "Thanks. I had a lot of fun."

"Maybe your little breasts are growing."

I didn't realize she was joking, so I said, "Maybe. Maybe wearing a bra is making it happen."

"Oh, right!" she laughed. "Are you serious? If that was all it took... Oh, wait! Your breasts are growing? You're not taking hormones, are you?"

Moving his face to within centimetres of mine he said, “I know all about your kind; I’ve read articles and seen a few books on TVs. This is what they want; to be submissive, be tied up and have some guy take advantage of them.” he growled. Startled and scared by his actions I was silent as his hands wandered up my thighs and under my skirt and across my bottom “Well isn’t it? Look at you in your short skirt, tight top and high heeled boots, and made up like a tart; you’re begging for some guy to restrain you and have you aren’t you?” he added, fondling my breast forms.

I was scared and not sure what he was going to do...

“Goodness child, you aren’t usually that quick. Got to do this…..wait for that… I forgot to do whatever…. You are never ready this quickly, have you got everything?”

“Yes Mummy, can we hurry?”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Not wearing any lip gloss today, then?”

Just who is the ‘Doctor’ character, and what does he want with Cathy?

I felt for my willie, but only found a “front bottom”! After having a wee–I had to sit down, natch–I cleaned myself up, flushed, rearranged my clothing and opened the door.

‘Auntie Greta! Can you come here a minute. Something terrible has happened!’

I stood there looking around me. In the distance I could here the shouting of children, girls I presumed as this was a girl’s home after all.

Suddenly, a tennis ball flew through the air and hit me on the side of the head.

‘Ow!’ I said.

"Well, this is what I call home," stated Carol ... Lizzie Jane fell in love with it right away. "It is your home, too -- for you and Philip." teased Carol.
"Don't even mention that rich, stuck-up brat," Lizzie Jane answered sharply.
"Oh, now -- a brat is a naughty little boy," smiled Carol.
"That is exactly what he is!"

I thanked her and went into the inner office. Mr. Bryant and my aunt were there, waiting. "Well, well, well," he said. "My favorite student."

That didn't sound good. I didn't want to be the principal's favorite student, did I? "Am I in trouble?" I asked.