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Rainbow - Copyright 2000 by Samantha Michelle Standard warning and disclaimer: All characters are fictional. If you see yourself, buy a new mirror. Contains subjects some people may find offensive. If you are one of them, why are you reading this? Protect your kids. If you are worried about them reading this sort of material, please censor free speech and use a safe surfing program such as net nanny. Or better yet, teach them early and lovingly to understand and accept different lifestyles. Before they learn from bad experiences. All constructive comments are welcome. Please e- mail to me: [email protected] or [email protected] Finally, this is a piece of adult fiction. If you are underage, or if you find it offensive, please go elsewhere. Quickly. ----- Rainbow It was the beginning of my sophomore year, and I was trying to be the big little guy on campus. The high school campus. And getting nowhere. My sister and her friends were thoroughly tired of my attempts to catch them undressed. I could not get to first base with the easiest girl in the school. And my face was breaking out like a lava field. I had an incredible interest in girl's underwear, and the girls who wore them. But they treated me like a fungus. The girls, that is. Partly because I was so little. You know it's bad when a freshman says you look just like her kid brother. The one in grade school. The only things I had going for me were I was really intelligent, could out-swim a fish, and had thick, really long hair that got me at least a little attention from the female side of the world. So I managed to get really decent grades despite everything. I made the swimming team. And I still didn't get dates. One of my acquaintances, since I had few friends, asked if I had ever worked with a miniature camera that connected to a computer. "Dig this!" He pulled out something about the size of a golf ball. "All you do is hook it to a serial port and a power supply, and you get really good pictures. My Dad uses them all the time to set up store security systems. This one has a broken mount, so he gave it to me." My mind went into overdrive. "Mind if I borrow it for a few days?" I think I was drooling. "No problem, you can have this one, I've got several more." As he walked away I had evil thoughts dashing through my head. I almost failed a test in chemistry, which would have been a first. Mar, actually Marcie, my older sister, Lisa, and Nancy, her two closest friends, were chatting away in her room when I got home. When they saw me they closed and locked Mar's door. I went searching for a long serial cable. Friday, Mar went to Lisa's for a sleepover. Mom and Dad went to a show. I raided Dad's shop for tools. By the time anyone got home, the camera was concealed in the trim above her closet, and the wires ran through the wall to my computer. I had it set for a really good view of her bed. So I shut down the computer, and jerked off in a pair of her undies to thoughts of my own private strip show. Saturday, I missed her, and the same happened Sunday. I was so mad I was spitting. Pictures of Mar sleeping, cuddled up with a stuffed animal were not what I wanted. So I worked on my graphics program, and figured out how to get my computer to store a series of pictures automatically. And came down with the flu. So I was off the computer and onto the toilet until the weekend. When Mar announced that Saturday Lisa and Nancy were spending the night, I sneezed Jell- O out my nose. Mom made me go to bed really early, but I left the computer on, and hoped for the best. Sunday, I was well enough to do homework, and with Mom in and out of my room, I was afraid to see what I had collected. Sunday night I found what I was looking for. Three very good looking girls (Mar is really built) running around in their underwear. Lisa took off her bra, and I discovered she was wearing a lot of padding. Nancy had big, heavy boobs. And unless the camera was lying, she was shaved down there. I was so horny I shook, but I managed to remove all the extra pictures, and store the good ones in a hidden directory. Then I took care of the back-pressure. By the end of the week, I could give a good description of how Mar got dressed, and what she did with a funny looking round thing that took batteries, which she kept hidden in drawer. I was walking like a peg-legged pirate most of the time. My grades were not doing well, (that meant anything less than an A) so Mom was all over my case the next weekend, and all the week after. Soon I was caught up, and Mar had another sleepover planned. So I reprogrammed my computer, and on Friday night I let it run. My eyeballs almost fell out Saturday night when I checked the pictures. I had heard of girls doing other girls, but one of them was my sister, and she looked like she loved every minute of it. So my collection of pictures grew, and I fantasized a lot about joining them. But I still didn't have a date. It was almost Christmas when I dropped a box of books on my toe, and Mom took me to the emergency room for x-rays while Mar was having a sleepover. I was in so much pain it never dawned on me that Mar might do anything with my computer. With the monitor off, nothing was visible anyway. I learned much later that Mar's computer was having trouble reading a disc on which they had some homework files, so she decided that since I was out, she would use mine. When she turned on the monitor, she found herself looking at her own room on the screen. So they searched my computer, and found my picture collection. It would have been better it they had told Mom and Dad. Or strangled me. It was several weeks later that my little camera stopped working. I found something inside had burned up, so I carefully cleaned up my stuff, and enjoyed the pictures I had collected. It was about this time that the doctor prescribed some new medicine for my face. It seemed to help a little, but it put me into a super-sound sleep that even an ice cube on the back would not interrupt. I guess I should have been suspicious when Mar found out, and grinned evilly. One morning the next week I woke with both cheeks of my butt aching. But I could find nothing wrong, so I did some exercises, and it seemed to help. Two weeks later my face started to really clear up. But I was feeling weird. Sometimes happy, sometimes crying for no reason. And I was not as horny all the time. And again I woke up with my butt sore. By February my face was completely free of blemishes, and my skin felt really smooth and soft. And I seemed to have stopped gaining hair on my face and body. Which was fine, because it was swimming season, and I usually shaved it all off in hopes of gaining a slight edge. My chest itched, and my nipples seemed to be getting bigger and darker. But I ignored it, figuring it must be the medicine Mom was giving me. They had said that temporary breast enlargement was a possible side effect. Mom noticed, and the doctor reduced my dose. I got teased at swimming practice, until the coach informed the others that I was taking medicine that caused the problem, and that if they made fun of me they were off the team. He found me a girls top to hide things at meets, and I really liked the way it felt, so I wore it whenever I swam. In late March I realized my hips, legs, and butt were getting bigger, and stronger. And I was actually getting smaller around the waist. But I was still swimming fine, and Mom did not notice, especially since I was now wearing a psuedo- baggie look that could hide a small car. I again woke up one morning with my butt sore. For some reason it always seemed to happen when Mar was having a sleepover. It was the end of April when I went back to the doctor for a follow-up on my acne medications. He took one look at me naked, and came unglued. They took a lot of blood, and stopped my medications. Mom was really upset, but Mar simply laughed when she heard I was starting to look like a girl. It was at the follow-up the next week that the doctor said I had a hormone imbalance, and that I needed to be checked monthly. He also told my Mom that I would probably grow to look a lot more like a girl before they could get my hormones back in balance. She cried all over me. Mar suggested I wear a skirt, so I could bend over and the boys could look at my panties. She got grounded for a week. By early June the doctor said my hormone levels were very slowly improving. But I now had a big butt and hips, and jiggled painfully when I walked. The doctor and Mom recommended a bra, and I finally agreed. But that was all. Whatever was wrong, I was still a boy, and boys did not wear girls clothes unless they were weird, or gay. Mom and dad sent me to see a counselor, saying I needed help in handling my changes. The counselor kept trying to tell me that I should consider dressing in girls' clothes and learn to live with my being different. I made suggestions she become something less disgusting and disappear. And I continued to change. By the early August I had a figure almost as good as Mar's. My voice had quit breaking, and was stuck at a high alto. So I was taken to a hospital where they ran a bunch more tests. Three days after I got home, Mom and Dad called a family meeting. I will never forget that evening. Dad did the announcements. Mom held me. Mar just sat back and laughed, at least at first. "Brandon, we received a full report from the specialists today. There is both good and bad news." I stared at Dad. I was already miserable. And the good news lately had only been less bad. "The good news is that it appears your hormone levels should, if things continue the way they are going, be back to normal by this Christmas.? I had gathered this from what the doctors at the hospital had said. "And you are in excellent health. They were really happy to tell us that it appears your male organs are functional, just quite a bit smaller than normal." Mar giggled, and Mom's scathing look shut her up. It didn't seem to matter. Girls would never even consider someone who was a freak like me. "The bad news is that the changes cannot be reversed without major plastic surgery and special hormone therapy. And there is a chance that the hormones could damage your heart and liver at the needed doses." Mar screamed, and ran out of the room sobbing. Mom chased her down, and brought her back in. I was still staring at Dad, the shock slowly working it's way into my brain. He began again. "They can't do anything until your hormone levels have been stable for several months. When I asked how effective the surgery and hormones would be, they were not overly optimistic. Their opinion is that they can probably make you look like a boy again, but you will always be small and somewhat feminine. The surgery will also mean many weeks in the hospital, and the cost won't be covered by our insurance." He looked pained. "They estimated the whole procedure will cost almost fifteen thousand dollars." "Brandon, I've already called your counselor, and she wants to see you tomorrow morning. Your mother will take you." He looked at me with pain in his eyes. "Please work with her. It's your life that we are trying to make better, not ours." I nodded, and silently made my way to my room. Sleep was hard coming. I liked girls. I hated almost being one. The next morning Mom had a splitting headache, but took me to my appointment anyway. She said it was a two-hour appointment, and she would be back to pick me up. She gave me a hug, winced and held her head, then left. I got the same briefing from my counselor. And a push to accept how I looked, and to quit fighting against my body. It was not a pleasant session; neither of us was willing to give an inch. Mom was not there when the appointment ended, and I waited for an hour, wondering where she was. My counselor saw me sitting, and after finding Mom was supposed to have picked me up, she went into her office, saying she would call my Dad. When she came out, her face was white, and her expression scared me. She woodenly told the person who was supposed to be next that she would have to reschedule, and asked me into her office. When she closed the door, she held me. "Brandon, I just talked to your father." Her voice was breaking "Your mother died of a brain hemorrhage about an hour ago. There was nothing anyone could do. I'm sorry." I stared up at her, and felt my world falling apart around me. She held me until I finally cried myself out. Then she took me in her car to the hospital, and stayed with me until Dad was able to take over. We met Mar at home, and when she heard, her screams sounded like knives. Mar and I wound up holding onto each other while Dad notified relatives. Two days later they held the funeral. Dad was a wreck. Mar and I looked like we felt. Awful. We hugged a lot of relatives. And went home to a horribly empty house. Dad was despondent for the next couple of weeks. I kept going to my counselor, and refusing to talk, getting more depressed every day. Mar looked haunted every time she saw me. Finally when Dad was out, she grabbed me and pulled me into her room. And told me why I had turned into a girl. About her and her friends finding the pictures on my computer. And how they had somehow gotten some slow release female hormones, and given me shots while I was sleeping. "We just wanted to teach you a lesson for taking those awful pictures, but we thought that when the hormones wore off, everything would go back to normal. We never meant to make it permanent." She broke down completely, and I held her until Dad got home. For some reason I didn't tell him. She did. I guess I figured it was as much my fault as Mar's. I went into my bedroom, and erased all the pictures. We cried on each other's shoulders again when I told her the pictures were permanently gone, then she looked at me, and wailed that she wished she could change me back that easily. I had one appointment left with my counselor before school was due to start. It lasted five minutes. I told her to shove her ideas. And walked out as she told me not to come back. Dad was upset, but I said I wanted everyone else out of my miserable life. He looked really worried. When I got home I barricaded myself in my room. And thought. The next afternoon I grabbed Mar, and told her what I was going to do. Mar was putting the finishing touches of clear polish on my chipped nails, as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "Brandon, are you sure you want to go through with this, I mean, like, the doctors said that with plastic surgery and a year or two of male hormones you will be able to pass for a boy again." "Mar, you know what else they said. Weeks in the hospital, risky surgery, huge medical bills. And the very real possibility that the hormones would damage my heart and liver. And for what? A chance to look like a sissy for the rest of my life?" I shook my head. "Like it or not, and I don't, I'm stuck like this. You and your friends did way too good a job." "We never intended it to be permanent, it just..." "The way to hell is paved with good intentions. And you guys laid down a really good piece of concrete." I watched as she ran crying out of my room. I had hurt her. But I didn't feel any better. I was still undecided about facing my future. Mar really did not understand. And I had been very careful that no one knew of my other option. What was it my counselor said as she told me not to come back? Quit wallowing in self pity and get a life? I looked in the mirror. A very plain teenage almost-girl looked back, the pain of living twisting her face. I looked at my room. Books, my computer, the sports trophies I had won before they turned me into a... a freak. A pair of shoe laces holding my last flying model to the ceiling. I remembered getting laughed at when I took it to the field last week, dressed as much like a boy as my body would allow. "Fags don't fly airplanes", was all I heard as they ran me off. From the beginning I steadfastly refused to dress in any way like a girl. Except wearing a bra because it HURT if I didn't. Mar came back in, and stared at me. She looked awful, and I wanted to rub her face in it again. But it wouldn't come out, and I held myself and slowly collapsed to the floor, whimpering. She picked me up and carried me downstairs. Dad was sitting on the couch, watching, as she carefully set me in the big recliner. He looked exhausted, and I knew it was partly because of me. "Brandon, I spoke with your counselor today, and she said it was pointless for you to continue. She recommended that I have you hospitalized, so you can receive medications and much more intensive therapy." I had sort of expected this. I stared tiredly at him. "You. And only you, are making your life miserable." I started to say something, but he indicated quiet. "Neither your sister or I can change the past. If I could, your mother would be here to help you through this." I could see the pain in his eyes. Mom's sudden death had devastated him. "And the longer you spend trying to be something you're not, the worse it's going to get." "I'm not trying to be anything. I'm a dammed freak, a boy stuck in a girl's body. I look, move, sound, and dammit, even smell funny. I've got no friends, people treat me like I've got AIDS, and..." "And you are throwing another pity party." I shut up. He was right, but there was so much pain... "Because you are afraid to face the fact that under that cute girlish exterior there is a wimpy little kid who needs to grow up." "I am not a dammed sissy wimp!" "Really? Then why are you refusing to face reality? Scared of the big bad boogie-man? Afraid someone will figure out that you are so insecure about who you are, not what you are, that you might pee yourself? Terrified of actually being human and caring because it might make you look weak?" I stared at him, and tried to scream "NO", but nothing came out. My head hurt. And suddenly I felt very sick. I sagged to my knees, managed to grab a wastebasket, and vomited until I was dehydrated and raw. When I finally looked up, they were staring at me. "Had some trouble stomaching the truth?" He did not sound sympathetic. I got sick again. When I looked up a second time, Mar was standing there with a glass of water and a towel. Dad was still on the couch. He looked worse than I felt, and I knew he was close to breaking. I carefully rinsed the bile out of my mouth, and cleaned myself up. Dad stared at me. "Brandon, I talked with Lisa's dad about you yesterday." I gave him a pained glance. Lisa was one of the conspirators who helped Mar made me into a girl. Her father was a research psychologist, who I was certain did not know about her involvement. Mar's eyes were wide open in fright. "He told me that your problem has nothing to do with how you look. It is how you look at yourself. He asked me if I would have you join him at a meeting he needs to attend. The only stipulation is that you must dress as femininely as possible." "Great, now you want someone to parade me around and show off your little pet weirdo." I stared at him. "If this is a way to get me hospitalized..." "No, if I was going to do that I would have drugged your orange juice this morning." His look said he was not joking. "Please, he said it might help you to learn a little more about yourself. And he promised to take you to Sandy's for dinner." That got my attention. Sandy's was a seafood place that I loved, but we could rarely afford to visit. "Um, can I get lobster?" He smiled. "Whatever you want. He said he is paying for it." He looked thoughtful "But don't toss your dinner all over him." Mar giggled. I stuck my tongue out. The tension, at least for the moment, was broken. Mar announced that we had about four hours, and that she was in charge of my appearance. "Are you willing to dress the way I want you to, and just let it go?" I nodded "Sure, it's not like it can get any worse..." An hour later I was beginning to think she had found a way. I was showered, lotioned, and powdered, and all the hair below my neck was down the drain. Like when I swam, but more so. Soon I was dressed in a very tight panty-girdle, real stockings, a new, very supportive bra, and was having my hair done by Lisa, whom Mar had called for help. I was having a mixed reaction. I hated everything but the bra, and the stockings, which felt strangely good on my hairless legs. Shortly they were working on my face, and I tried to object when they plucked my eyebrows. "Remember your promise!" I decided to sit through it. It was almost three when they finished lacquering my newly extended nails. I felt like an idiot, and wondered how anyone could do more than stab themselves with talons like the ones I was now wearing. Even though they were only a quarter-inch past the end of my fingers. When Lisa pulled the outfit I was to wear from a suitcase, I tried to back away. Fifteen minutes later I was wearing an ankle-length denim skirt and a very fitted, revealing western style blouse. My hair had been combed out, and I discovered that Lisa had given my normal mouse-brown hair red highlights. It fell in soft curls down my back. They refused to let me look in a mirror, and I was afraid I was being turned into a clown. The boots they brought were a good fit, and had over three- inch heels. Finally they finished working on my face, and added jewelry and heavy earrings. They were smiling, and I demanded they show me what I looked like. When they uncovered the mirror, I looked right past myself trying to find my reflection. Then I stared at her. She looked about eighteen, and although not beautiful, was strangely attractive. Her hair was awesome, and she made me horny just staring at her. I wobbled on the high heels, and they had to hold me up and get me to a chair. "I just got aroused by looking at myself..." I paused "I look just like a... a girl going out on a date..." "Damn straight, Sis, you look great." "But, I'm not supposed to..." I heard the doorbell ring. "You are supposed to relax and learn about yourself. And don't drop food down your cleavage." Dad gaped at me when he saw how I appeared. I was still in shock when Dr. Simpson, Lisa's dad, escorted me out to his car. He opened the passenger door for me just like I was a girl, and helped me with my seat belt. I felt like a complete idiot. Worse, I looked like a real girl. Dr. Simpson interrupted my internal conversation by introducing himself as Charles, and began asking me about my life. He was easy to talk to, and I guess I needed to talk, because I was pouring out the story of how I wound up like this when I mentioned Lisa, and he sputtered. "Lisa?!" He pulled into a parking lot and stared at me. "Lisa, as in my daughter Lisa?" I nodded. He looked really mad for a moment, and I wondered if I was going to find myself walking. "Can I make an educated guess that a girl named Nancy was also involved?" I nodded again. "I wish I had known, maybe there was something I could have done." I shook my head. "By the time my doctor figured out what was happening, it was too late. They said they couldn't mess with my hormone levels until they stabilized, and apparently the shots the girls gave me are some new, long-duration kind, so they still can't be sure I've finished changing." He nodded, and pulled back on the roadway. We continued to chat until he stopped at a rather fancy subdivision, saying he had another person to pick up. I started to panic, and he made it really clear that I looked fine, and no one that didn't need to know would have any questions. When he pulled up at a big green house, I screamed. "No, I know the kids who live here...!" As the front door was opening, he stared in shock at me. "How...?" "Tony was on the swim team with me. Oh god, I'll be killed..." I started to shake, and was ready to run when the back passenger door opened, and someone got in. "Hi doc, see you have a new girl for the meeting." I jumped up and looked at the person in the back seat. She was tall and absolutely gorgeous. And looked familiar. She stared at me. "Don't I know you...?" I slid down against the seat belt, and started to cry and shake. Suddenly the person in girl in the back started to cough. Dr. Simpson broke in. "Time for introductions. Brandy, meet Tammy. I think you two have met before. Probably as Brandon and Tony." I sat up and spun around. And stared. The gorgeous girl in the back seat was my old swimming buddy, Tony. And he, or was it she? seemed to be happy looking like a girl. Now I was really confused. "Tammy, Brandon has a medical problem that has turned him into Brandy. But she really does not understand that the person inside is the same. If you don't mind telling her your story it may help her cope." Tammy agreed, and Dr. Simpson recommended we sit together in the back. As I switched seats I saw she was wearing a microskirt and really high heels. And her legs were killer. Now I was getting aroused by my friend. Her voice was soft and low. And very feminine. "Brandy, the best way to begin is to say that I have always felt I should have been born a girl." I stared at her. "I guess it is how I look at life. I am happier doing girl things, I get along a lot better with girls. And I feel so much better when I am dressed like one. So I started to borrowing and wearing my Mom's stuff when I was five or six, and got caught when I was ten." She paused. "To make the story short, my Dad blew a fuse, and I got sent to a shrink, who tested me and then sent me to Dr. Simpson. Dad didn't like the diagnosis, and sent me to three other psychiatrists. But he finally came around a bit when Mom threatened him with divorce when his three consultants all gave the same diagnosis." She smiled at me. "I suffer from something called gender dysphoria, which means I have a woman's personality in a man's body. It doesn't mean I'm gay. I really do like girls, and yes, they excite me. But I'm not happy or comfortable looking or acting like a guy." She gave me a sad look. "If what Dr. Simpson says is true, that you have a medical problem that is causing your body to become female, I wish to god I could transfer it to me. For both our sakes. As it is, I'm taking hormones to try and make me more feminine, and using a lot of padding. I hope to come out as a girl at school this fall." He looked at the expression of shock in my eyes. "And you really don't want to be a girl at all, do you?" I shook my head. He pulled me to him and held me, just like Mar always did. I wanted to scream that boys did not hug each other. But it just wouldn't come out. So I simply burst into tears. Tammy popped open her shoulder bag, and handed me a bunch of tissues. It was not long before we arrived at out destination. When we went inside, I almost ran back out screaming. Tammy anchored me in place, and she and Dr. Simpson almost carried me to a couch, where they pinned me between them. There were over thirty people in the house. Some were beautiful. Some looked like linebackers in skirts. But from the conversations, they were almost all males. One of the beautiful ones, who was obviously not wearing any padding above the waist, jiggled over and gave Dr. Simpson a hug. He introduced her as Betsy, and said she was the host for this get-together. She obviously knew Tammy, but gave me the once-over before asking to be introduced. "Betsy, meet Brandy; Brandy, Betsy." She shook my hand gently. He continued. "Brandy has had, for her, the bad luck to have no choice in becoming a girl, and is really uncomfortable about the change. Maybe you can introduce her to Fran, Josie, and any others that unwillingly transitioned." She smiled at me. "Well, you damn sure are cute and pretty enough." She looked at my chest. "They're real, right?" I nodded, totally embarrassed. "Hey, most of us here would give our last year's earnings to have a natural figure like yours." She dragged me to where what appeared to be four young women were having a heated discussion on something. So I was introduced, with a description of my problem, despite my trying to disappear into the scenery, as Brandy to the group. One woman, actually a pretty, dark haired Hispanic girl about my age, introduced herself as Fran, and gave me a hug. "Hey, I was in a similar pickle as you last year." She grabbed a much taller, masculine looking girl, and introduced her as Josie, saying she too was a prisoner in panties. Josie sounded as feminine as a bass drum. But she was smiling. The two others departed, leaving us alone. "So what strange quirk in life got you trapped in a skirt?" Fran was direct and to the point. I motioned to an empty couch. And spilled the entire tale of my being feminized by my sister and her friends. When I was finished, they had tears in their eyes. "Damn, that's a lousy way to get stuck in a dress. But you say your plumbing still works?" "They say it's fine, and I keep trying to get aroused while wearing this damned girdle, and it hurts!" That got a laugh from Josie, and a frown from Fran. Josie spoke up. "I was a boy, including my plumbing, until last summer. I was a real tough guy, or so I thought, always in trouble with the law. One night I tried to break into a storage yard." He looked pained. "They said I slipped, and landed crotch-first on the razor wire." I almost doubled over in sympathy pains. "Anyway, at the hospital they told my mom there was nothing left worth saving, and they recommended I consider undergoing a sex change. She was so pissed at me for doing something stupid and illegal, she told them to go ahead." He looked wistful. "So now I have an innie instead of an outie, and am taking hormones and trying to learn to sound and act more like a girl. The only good thing about it was that the Judge tossed out the charges, saying I had suffered enough. So I have a new name, and a totally clean record. And have to sit to pee." I gave her a hug, then realized what I was doing. The dammed hormones were affecting my brain. I looked at Fran. She was crying quietly. "My mom always wanted a daughter, and when my Dad ran off with his mistress a little over three years ago, Mom decided I was to be her revenge. So she fed me lots of hormones, much stronger than those your sister used,. and gave me shots, saying they were to help me get over my Dad's leaving. By the time someone rescued me, the hormones had made it impossible for me to father children, and I looked just like a girl except for a tiny penis. So I can still get a hard on, but it's too small to do much with. And I still like girls, which makes it worse." She shrugged. "So I'm now taking small doses of hormones to finish the job, and keep me from growing a beard. And being a girl is not all bad. I've got a lot of friends, and have discovered how much nicer girl's clothes feel. I haven't decided if I'm going to get surgery done when I'm old enough to make me into a complete girl. So now you know you're not alone. And no, dammit, I would not wish this on anyone." We sat and sniffled at each other until Dr. Simpson came by and collected me. As we walked away, he asked if they had told me their stories. "Neither wants to be a girl, so why do they try?' "Because being neutral is really boring." I had to think about that. "And they can't ever be boys again, their plumbing doesn't work. But mine does, sort of..." He smiled. "Your next discussion will be with Wendy, who is a lot like you. The only difference is that she changed because of a medical problem. She's also a bit older, and is married to a wonderful genetic woman who is the mother of their two kids." I stared at him. "A girl would marry a boy who looks like a girl?" He snickered. "You have a lot to learn about love. It comes from inside." Soon I was being introduced to Wendy and a cute redhead, who was apparently her wife. Wendy was pretty, but sort of plain. Kind of like a much bigger me, I realized in fear. She spoke up, "Dr. Simpson says you are another unwilling convert to the pantyhose and heels set." I nodded. "Well, don't let the woes of Fran and Josie get you too depressed. I was a perfectly normal teenage boy" His redheaded companion made a rude comment about normal, "until I hit puberty. Then I suddenly started to grow boobs, and get fat in the butt. When the doctor's finally figured out why, they told me it was a genetic problem that I would have to live with until I quit changing. After the changes were finished, they said surgery was possible, but until then I should learn to dress and act like girl. So I was teased and roughed up and generally wanted to die, but then I met this goofy girl," (she hit him), "who was more interested in the person than the clothes. And was a closet lesbian." (she blushed and smiled wickedly), "and who taught me to like my breasts." This caused me to blush, as I had used their sensitivity to masturbate way too often lately. "Anyway, when it came time I could have the surgery, she convinced me that I should stay like this, and spend the money on college, and a marriage license." (they hugged). "That was six years ago. I have a master's in accounting, and Sherry here" (he hugged the redhead) "teaches kindergarten and has been kind enough to get pregnant twice." (she kissed him). "So, although I think I would still rather be a guy, well, I'm happy and don't want to change back. Besides, I've developed this silk fetish that is really hard to indulge when dressed in a business suit." This was a whole different perspective. I asked his wife a lot of questions, and basically got the feeling that she didn't care if he was green and spotted. She said she married the person, not the clothes. Now I was really confused. By the end of the evening I had met guys who wanted to be women, some that had gone all the way, and some who were giving it a test drive. Tammy was glowing, and asked me to dance. I felt like a fool. But she was enthusiastic, and talented, and I found myself enjoying the closeness. I wondered if I was becoming gay. But I doubted anyone would mistake Tammy for anything but a really pretty girl. And inside, I grew a little knowing that I could do the same if I chose. Tammy held me the whole way back. We dropped her off, and she asked me to keep her secret until fall. I pointed to myself, and said, "like I'm going to say something?" She giggled. When I was dropped off at home, Mar and Dad were waiting for me. Over a bowl of ice cream they gave me the third degree until I told them all about the people I met, except Tammy. Mar cried when I told her about Wendy and her wife. Dad cringed and turned green when I described what had happened to Josie. Mar helped me get undressed, and stuffed me in a flannel nightgown before tucking me in. As she was leaving I started to cry. She came back, and I managed pull my self together for a moment. "Mar, I'm so scared, I don't want to be alone." She gave me a hug and half-carried me to her room. And snuggled me like a teddy bear till I fell asleep in her arms. I woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast. Mar was nowhere to be seen, so I figured she was doing the cooking. When I entered the kitchen, I found Lisa, Nancy, and Mar all waiting for me. Before I could say anything, Mar stuffed a piece of toast in my mouth, and handed me a plate of bacon and eggs. So I sat, munched, and watched them. They got their own, and joined me. Lisa was the first one to speak. "Brandon, none of us wanted to permanently hurt you, you do understand that much?" She and Nancy looked really sad. I was tired of fighting. I nodded. "Mar called us last night and told us what was going on. And this morning Mom and Dad read me the riot act. I guess Dad called Nancy's mom, because she barely escaped alive." Nancy nodded, making strangling motions. "We can't change what had happened. We both know that." She looked at Mar and Nancy, who were nodding. "But we can help you..." She looked at her feet "learn how to be a girl, at least on the outside." She looked at me. "Please? It is the only way we can help..." "So I'm to be your Barbie doll?" It oozed out. Mar started to cry, and Nancy looked like she wanted to run. Lisa just winced. "No, you will not be played with. You are not a toy." She grabbed Nancy and Mar and looked at me. "Dammit, this is the only thing we can do. Please, let us try to show you that being a girl is not all bad." I just shook my head. "Why bother. The first guy who sees me will pound me to a pulp as a faggot. Just like they ran me off the ball-field when I tried to fly my model." "Not with one of us, or any of our friends around, they won't." She looked at me. "Mar told us you destroyed those pictures, even knowing you couldn't change back. Please, let us at least try." "So what are you going to do, teach me how to wag my butt, so some guy will try and molest me? I'm not gay. I like girls. But I'll never get a chance with one like this." I put my head in my hands. I was surprised when they held me. "No, we'll teach you to be a young woman. And you may be really surprised at what some girls want. Most of us can't stand jocks." I gave her a hard look. "Tell me honestly you would, if you were not involved in this, consider me boyfriend material." She tried to say something, and shook her head. I looked at Nancy. She shook her head also. "Case closed." I started to get up, and found myself pinned to my chair by Lisa. "Damn you, quit feeling sorry for yourself. If it's a piece of ass you want," She took a deep breath "Then you can have me whenever you want until I graduate. And I'm a virgin." I stared at her in shock. She stepped back, and took off her clothes. She no longer needed the padded bra, and had a beautiful body. Mar and Nancy were holding each other. I managed a very small tent in the nightgown. "Well, I see it still works. Here or upstairs, your choice." I managed to breathe, then handed her back her clothes. "No. I can't do that. Despite what you think, I not that kind of person." I looked hard at them. "If I live, I'll make a great old maid." I headed up to my room to be alone. It was half an hour later, as I was staring at the ceiling, that they came into my room. Lisa had her clothes back on, and they sat on my bed and looked at me. "Other than getting your old body back, which was pretty wimpy anyway, what can we do to help?" "I was not wimpy" "Brandon, when we gave you those shots we also looked at you naked. You looked like a sixth-grader with a few extra muscles. And you never were very big down there." That hurt, because it was true. "With your size, long hair and narrow face, most people thought you were gay or a sissy anyway." I hung my head. "But I was a guy..." "I hate to burst your bubble, but you look a hell of a lot better as a girl. And you are still a guy, even if it is small, where it counts." I felt awful. Because they were right. "If the right girl gets to know you, it won't matter if you are purple and have feathers. But you won't have a hope looking like a girl in drag. So give us a chance. Besides, this way you can legally get into our locker room." I realized how absurd this all was. At least if I appeared as a pretty girl I could at least look and dream. And I thought of Tony/Tammy. She was a fox, and I had a better body. What I didn't have was her attitude. "Give me a few minutes alone. I need to call someone." They looked afraid "And no, I'm not going to hurt myself. Now get out." When they were gone, I pulled out the phone book and called Tammy. When I got off the telephone, I knew it was going to be a long day. I headed downstairs, and gave them a weak smile. "Do any of you remember Tony from the swimming team?" They nodded. "Was he a hunk or a looser?" They all voted major hunk. "He is on his way over, in about fifteen minutes." They stared at me. "When he gets here, you can explain to him what you want me to do, and what you are planning on doing to me. Standing in your birthday suits. Or the whole thing is a wash. You can wait in the kitchen till I call you." I headed for the living room, leaving them with their mouths open. When the doorbell rang, it was Tammy, not Tony. He looked at my disheveled nightgown. "Hey, it's been a rough morning." I closed and locked the door. "Okay girls, it's show time." I wondered if they would do it. Three very red girls walked stiffly into the room, without a stitch of clothes on. And stared at Tammy, who was wearing a miniskirt and a tank top. Mar was the first one to get her voice. "Hey, you said it was Tony, not some bimbo that..." Nancy's "Oh my god" stopped her. Nancy was pointing and giggling. "Nancy, what the hell's so funny?" "Take a closer look at her." Mar and Lisa went over, looked, and when it hit they both slid to the floor. "Tammy, meet the three who made me into a girl." "Girls, meet Tammy, who used to be Tony." I wish I had a camera trained on them. Soon we were all sitting around the kitchen table. Tony and I were down to panties, and the girls were still naked. "So it's like you are a girl inside? And want to look like Brandy?" Tammy nodded sadly. "God, tiny tits and all and you are still turning me on!" Lisa was wiggling against her seat as she talked. The tent in Tammy's panties said the feeling was mutual. Tammy asked the girls, "What you want to do is teach Brandy how to look and act like one of you, without trying to change him into someone else?" They all nodded. Lisa was now sitting on Tammy's lap and nibbling on her ear. Tammy looked at me. "I wish I had been given the chance they are offering you. Even if it's not your choice. Give it a whirl. And they are right, you look a lot better as a girl." I gave him a raspberry. Lisa looked like she was trying to give his ear a hickey. "Lisa, you told me I was not boyfriend material. What's so different between me and Tammy?" "I like tall girls." It took a while to digest that. "And Nancy doesn't like boys." Now I began to understand some of what I saw on the computer. Nancy was quite a bit taller than Lisa. I suggested we get dressed, and do some planning. Lisa requested the loan of a bedroom. Tammy seconded the request. They got Mar's room. Mar made a ceremony of loaning them some protection. While we got dressed, they provided sound effects. Tammy and I were comparing notes on how to tuck things away when Dad got home. He gave Tammy the evil eye, wondering what a beautiful girl like her was doing alone in the house with me. We didn't enlighten him. The three girls were away on a mission. It was almost nine when they started dragging bags of stuff into the living room. They were followed by Mrs. Simpson, and Mrs. Hanover, Nancy's mom, looking like wardens. After a very short set of instructions to their daughters, and threats of dire consequences, they grabbed Dad and dragged him out the door. Mrs. Hanover stuck her head back in and said they were going out to dinner and to talk, and would be back very late. When they drove off, Tammy and I looked at Lisa and Nancy. Mar looked like she had been too close to a grenade. Lisa managed, "If we can't help you get your life back, we are going to be sent to a special girl's military school in Alabama. Where the girls wear crew cuts and don't shave anything." She looked really scared. "Mom says their motto is: ?We turn girls into real men." Tammy and I cringed. Mar added shakily that their moms were more than willing to pay her tuition if Dad agreed. "So if you want revenge, all you have to do is tell either of our moms, and we get two years of marine boot camp. Or worse." I nodded. "They intercepted us on the way back from shopping when we tried to get some stuff from home." She looked at me. "If you want them to ship us off, please tell us now. Don't keep us on a hook. We didn't try to destroy your life." She broke down crying and Tammy grabbed and held her. Mar and Nancy were shaking. "Revenge won't help me. I don't think anything can. So quit whining and lets get started." It was a very subdued group that set out the contents of their travels. Much of it was used, but in great condition. Tammy said she was jealous, she barely had enough clothes for a week. It looked like I now had enough for a year. I was surprised when two of the bags contained clothes much too big for me. Lisa gave Tammy a hug, and pointed at the resulting piles. Nancy handed me a package with a smile. Inside were three spandex thongs with instructions. Lisa gave a similar package to Tammy. Ten minutes later there were two sort-of girls in their new undies unhappily trying on clothes. Okay, it was actually a blast. Tammy's enthusiasm helped. Several outfits landed in the "Yeech" pile. One was a really pretty dress. If I was a ten-year- old on the way to church. Tammy tried on a little green outfit. It was awesome. I got so horny I almost ruined myself. Mar said Tammy could work street-corners for quarters. It joined the pile. When we were finished, Tammy and the rest agreed I had an excellent wardrobe. Nancy's "most of the other girls will be jealous" made me grin, then sit and cry. I got a group hug. When Nancy started to give me a body massage, I stopped her. "You said you don't like guys." She gave me a hurt look, "I don't want to have sex with you, but at least I want to do this. Please?" I looked at Mar and Lisa, and Tammy, who gave me a thumbs-up. Mar tossed a comforter on the floor, and in a few minutes I felt like a piece of bread dough. Almost naked, relaxed bread dough. I was sensually being turned into putty as the others quietly raided my room, and took all my boy clothes and put them in bags, then restocked my room with the new clothes. Not that I noticed, or cared. I creamed my new undies and made all kinds of funny noises when she softly sucked on my breasts. I woke up to the sound of giggling. Mar was standing there with a camera. I was wearing a pink flannel nightgown with little animals all over it, snuggled up to Mar's big teddy bear. And Nancy, wearing a similar nightgown, was wrapped around me. Flash! I was too relaxed to move. Mar giggled "Your first sleepover pictures." I stuck out my tongue. Flash! My fuzzy brain said "brilliant move." I snuggled back against Nancy. She was warm and her breasts were so nice pressing against my back... When Dad and the others returned, I suspect they gave birth to a bushel basket full of porcupines. The five of us were all curled up in the living room, on and under a huge pile of blankets and pillows. Sound asleep. Tammy and Lisa were entwined. Mar was wrapped around Lisa. Nancy was using me for a teddy bear, with my face buried in her cleavage. I was out like a light. At least that was the description provided by Dad the next morning. When I woke up, there was the smell of food, and the sight of three moms and one dad staring at us. It was then I realized I had been sleep-nursing on Nancy's breasts, and was still firmly attached. I glanced up, and she had this incredibly content smile. It was probably the embarrassed red glowing beacon I became that woke the others. We were trying to shrink into the covers when Nancy's mom started to giggle. Soon all the parents were sitting around laughing. Once they had ascertained that we had not thrown an orgy they told us we looked so cute they couldn't keep from taking pictures. And they held up three cameras. Tammy tried to apologize to her mother, and got told that teenage girls held a lot of sleepovers. That caused her to break out in happy tears. It was suggested we get dressed, as there was food in the kitchen. It turned out we were all in nightgowns, but Nancy had to pull hers up and fasten the top. Her nursed nipples were huge. I was surprised when she gave me a really sensual hug. In front of her mother. There was no question all four parents seemed happier. Over breakfast Dad told us why. "We met with Dr. Simpson early this morning, after we found the five of you asleep together. Aside from some concerns about his daughter's virginity, he said that you and Tammy were acting like teenage girls, which was extremely important." Lisa looked mortally embarrassed. He looked at me. "He said that if either of you were still acting as boys there was no way you and Tammy would have slept together with the other girls under the same covers. Was he right?" Tammy and I nodded. "But I don't want to be a girl!" My protest sounded pretty feeble. "Ready to give up sleepovers?" That was Nancy. I turned bright red. "Um, well..." "And that long rayon party dress that we had to lace you into, and you begged us not to take off?" I shut up and sat down. "So not everything about looking like a girl is all bad?" I nodded. "And I'll bet that you wouldn't want to give up those wonderfully sensitive boobs of yours." Now I was glowing. "Help?" Everyone broke out laughing. "Besides, you can't wear four inch heels, which make you so much taller, as a guy." She came over and hugged me. "We know you'd rather be the little boy Brandon than the pretty little girl named Brandy. But you are finding out it's not all bad news." She held as I cried. I never noticed settling my head comfortably between her breasts. Mar whispered in my ear that if I wanted a pacifier it would be a good idea to use my thumb while her Mom was watching. I quickly untangled myself, and looked guilty. Nancy's Mom was giggling. We got a lecture on birth control from Lisa's mom. And Tammy and I were advised we had appointments at a beauty salon at one, for complete makeovers. When I asked, "What's a makeover?" it got the other three kids giggling. They were told they had to take us. Tammy suddenly looked scared. Lisa gave her a wrap-around hug. She quickly looked a lot less scared. Beauty parlors stink. Perming solution stinks worse. And waxing should require anesthesia. Or tranquilizers. But when Tammy and I walked out, the three girls were making jealous noises, and every male in the area was tracking us like we were edible. The girls had me wearing a low-cut lycra mini-dress, an almost indecent push-up body- shaper, and real stockings. And what felt like stilts, but were actually four inch plus platform heels. Tammy was wearing a tight leather microskirt, pantyhose to show off her incredible legs, and a padded bra under her crop-top. And heels taller than mine. So she was over six-five, a foot taller than me. Between the short, tightly clinging skirt and heels I swished and swayed as I walked. I was afraid to touch anything with the painted talons they had given me, even though they said they were almost as strong as steel. Tammy was strutting and her eyes were wet with happiness. I gave her a hug. "This is what you always wanted, isn't it?" She looked down at me, and smiled. "I'm glad to have you with me. I was afraid all my friends would abandon me, and..." I gave her a hug, and she shut up and hugged me back. We spent the afternoon cruising the malls with the girls, who were muttering about having created monsters. Several kids who knew Tony and me gawked, but none seemed ready to take on the five of us. We were about to head home for dinner, and a second night of sleepovers when we were confronted by the worst three of the brainless muscle set from school. They started teasing and taunting Tammy and me, calling us fags and making obscene motions. We tried to retreat with the girls, and they boxed us in, getting physical. Suddenly Mar whispered something in my ear. It made sense. I pulled down my top to get the leader's interest, and kicked him as hard as I could in the crotch while he was staring. He went down with a grunt. So with everything I had, I soccer- kicked him in the face. The platforms have very hard toes. He crunched. Meanwhile one of the others had grabbed Tammy, and let go fast when she shredded his face with her new nails. I saw her pivot and kick, and heard a snap as his knee collapsed sideways. Lisa proceeded to kick him in every vulnerable spot. That left one facing Mar and Nancy. He must have had the majority of their IQ points. He turned and ran. Into a mall guard, who maced him. Nancy and Mar pulled Lisa off the one that had attacked Tammy. I was carefully watching the one I kicked, but all he was doing was screaming and holding his face and crotch. Mar called Dad and Dr. Simpson while we talked to the police. An ambulance had taken all three of our attackers to the hospital. None of us knew their names, but one older woman came over and got the police's attention. We all recognized her as one of the teachers from the school. She proceeded to give names and histories, and said she saw the whole thing and would love to testify. Dad and Dr. Simpson arrived and after verifying we were okay, confirmed Tammy's and my identities. We got some funny looks, but when Dad and Dr. Simpson said they would be pressing charges, the policeman in charge smiled, and read off a list. Assault. Assault and battery. Attempted sexual assault of a minor. Disturbing the peace. He added that if they could think of anything else, they would be sure to add it to the list. He then looked at Tammy and me. "If we prosecute, you two are probably going to have to testify. And then you two dressing as girls will make the papers." Tammy started to shake, looked at me, and I nodded. She then stood to her full height. "This is who we are." She looked at me, and I hugged her. "We will testify." Dad gave me a crushing hug, and Dr. Simpson hugged Tammy. We managed to get home intact. Dad called the other parents. By the time they arrived, Tammy and I were better, but Dr. Simpson spent an hour with us to make sure we could handle what happened. Mrs. Hanover was livid, and left saying she had some pressing business to take care of regarding our three accosters. Nancy giggled, and said they would be lucky if they got solitary. She didn't provide details, other than her mom used to date the District Attorney. We ate a very quiet and subdued dinner, and crashed early. Lisa and Tammy slept together. Mar used me for a teddy bear. So did Nancy. This time Nancy stuffed a very erect nipple in my mouth, saying I needed a pacifier. There is something about having your hands full of soft breast, sucking on warm nipple. I was asleep in minutes, feeling her quiver and listening to her make happy noises. Sunday morning we made plans for the first day of school. Dad and Dr. Simpson were going to be there to answer any questions. I was given some paperwork that caused a lot of discussions. Once signed, if I agreed, I was officially on the road to becoming a card-carrying member of the panty brigade. Tammy had already done hers at the beginning of summer. "Brandy, this is the start of what is called a real life test. For a full year you must live, dress, act, and try your best to be a teenage girl." I looked at him in horror. "No, you don't have to go out with boys." I relaxed a bit. "But you will have to use the girls washrooms, and if you are brave enough, the girls locker room." That got a lot more discussion. I finally signed. Nancy had to head home early, and Lisa left with her Dad. Which left Dad, Mar, and me staring at each other. Dad suggested we go out and get a steak. I wore a long skirt and loose blouse. And the heels. All we got were compliments. Monday, Dad drove Mar and me to school. We met up with Dr. Simpson, Tammy's mom, and Tammy, and headed for the administrative offices. It looked like the story of what happened at the mall had gotten around, and there was a lot of whispering and pointing. Tammy and I were shaking and jittering so badly Dr. Simpson made us each take a pill. By the time the principal was ready to meet with us, I don't think a bomb would have made us jump. It tuned out to be a no-brainer. We were registered under our female names, and told how to report any harassment. All of us were surprised when the principal told us there were two other students like us, and asked if he could tell them who we were. "Um, did you hear about an assault at the mall Saturday?" He looked puzzled, but nodded. "Tammy and I were the ones assaulted, so everyone in the city will know who we are soon enough." He grimaced. Since Tammy was a senior, and I was a very advanced junior, and needed the moral support, we got our schedules changed to take the same classes. Including gym. That had been the subject of a lot of discussion Sunday, but we both liked to exercise, and figured that it would at least squelch any rumors. We got stared at and joked about all morning, but most of it seemed to be friendly. And congratulated by a lot of girls and even some guys for putting the three muscleheads out of circulation. We were too nervous to eat lunch, and spent the time being hugged by Mar, Nancy and Lisa. Who also chased away anyone bugging us. At two, there was the mandatory all-school back- to-school assembly where, as always they read the rules of dress and conduct. We almost screamed when Mr. Kimball, the Principal, called us by name to the stage. This was not in the plans. When we finally met him at the podium, My heart was trying to go into overspeed, and Tammy looked like a ghost. "I want to introduce you to two new, formerly old, students. You probably know them from the swimming team as Brandon and Tony. Due to medical necessity, both of them are undergoing the difficult and stress-filled change from male to female lifestyles. The new students are Brandy and Tammy. They have the wholehearted support of their parents and the school. I expect that you will treat them with respect, and help them adjust smoothly to their new lives." "Normally I would not place them in the position of being in the spotlight so soon. But an inexcusable, criminal attack on them occurred this weekend because they were different. Three former students, who were supposed to be seniors this year, taunted and assaulted them at a mall on Saturday. Two of them remain hospitalized from injuries received when these two and their friends defended themselves. The third is in jail. The three have been permanently expelled from this school, and are facing multiple criminal charges. The District Attorney has assured me they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." "I will not accept any form of intolerance or harassment of any student for any reason. Should any such act be reported, it will be investigated, and the individuals involved will be suspended or expelled, and turned over to the police, if appropriate, to face criminal charges. There will be no further warnings." He paused to let his speech sink in. "So rather than worry, treat them like any other new students, except they are not freshman, so no stupid pranks. And to make it clear to everyone from the start, they will use the girls' washrooms and lockers. Anyone objecting to this should see me immediately after this assembly." He turned to Tammy and me. "Welcome to our school." We shook his hand, and jittered our way back to our seats. Of course as soon as the assembly was over, we desperately had to visit the washroom. Inside, the first question we got was, "Are your breasts real?" Tammy shook her head, blushed and said, "still growing". I nodded. We grabbed the first available stalls, and remembered to sit. When we got out, there was a welcoming committee of senior girls. They looked like a lynch mob. We were told to stand and be inspected. If we hadn't just gone we'd have peed our panties. They looked us over, squeezed us and prodded us like we were groceries. Wendy, their leader, a big girl with an incredible body, who was also head cheerleader, conferred with the others. Finally, we were pushed out the door into a waiting crowd of girls. Nancy, Mar, and Lisa were there, each held firmly and looking scared. Wendy, nicknamed Wedgie by a lot of guys, and who was well known as a hard-assed bitch, spoke out. "Listen up. We have inspected them, and they are not making fun of us. In fact, a lot of you should take lessons from them." There were hisses. "So as long as they behave like us girls," someone hit her with a pair of panties, and she smiled, "they have my friends' and my support and protection." She looked up at Tammy. "You're cute. Got a girlfriend?" Lisa's "Hey, she's mine, so keep your hands off!" got a lot of laughter. And Lisa turned bright red when she realized what she had said. Soon we were reunited with our friends. Amazingly, we made it to the bus without further problems. Our parents debriefed us over a dinner at Lisa's place. Dr. Simpson was upset about the principals' speech, and our being "inspected" by the girls' Gestapo. Nancy spoke up. "Dr. Simpson, what Wedgie and her friends did would have happened eventually. But now no one will dare to bother Tammy or Brandy." "Who is this Wedgie, and what makes her so special?" The parents seemed upset. "Wedgie is Wendy Ashton, Sarah and Fred Ashton's youngest daughter." I looked confused. To me she was just a bitch. They looked impressed. Mrs. Hanover provided an explanation. "Fred Ashton is the power behind the politics in this town. And Sarah, who I know fairly well, is the meanest divorce lawyer this side of New York. If Wendy takes after her parents, crossing her is a very bad idea." Nancy giggled. "Um, Mom, did I tell you Wedgie and I have a date for Friday night?" That got a lot of discussions started. We were stared at a lot over the next two weeks. Several parents tried to sue to keep us from using the girls facilities. And found out we were covered by anti-discrimination laws. A couple of fundies accosted us in the locker room. Some of Wedgie's cronies tossed them out the back door wearing only towels. Tammy and I got pinched. Lisa and Mar said get used to it. Tammy was wearing a padded girdle, so it didn't hurt. I wasn't. OUCH! After that, things settled down. I was put on a maintenance d