Julian - Part 7 free porn video

Not much was said as Sara drove. Naturally she had made me sit in the back, which I did quietly but contemplatively, while clutching a small, sparkly black handbag which Sara had thrust onto my lap as I sat down. "It matches your top nicely," she told me in that motherly tone which had become the default now. "and I've put a few little bits in there for you. Little girls love to carry a handbag like their Mummy after all." I had cringed at the comment, and noticed her put a pale pink rucksack into the boot without explanation. Not that she had explained much at all to me the whole morning, refusing to tell me where we were going or how long it would take by swatting away my questions with a dismissive wave. It was clear she intended to make my descent into childhood as full as possible, and I feared the events of the day ahead, still unknown to me, would probably only confirm this. The truth was that I felt thoroughly defeated. The events of the last few days were racing around my mind in a horrible cavalcade of torment and the shame of it all had taken over my emasculated body. The overriding embarrassment was of Fran seeing me in the pink frock the night before, being bottle fed by a nine year old girl. How was a wife supposed to deal with that image? How was she supposed to ever look at her husband again knowing that he had stooped to such depths? If before I had only sunk to an ocean ridge, then last night I had plummeted to the very bottom. No doubt about it. Earlier, Bethany had taken great enjoyment from my appearance when I had been led downstairs, cooing at my tartan skirt and glittery top and taking great pains to make sure how I knew how "pretty" I looked. To my consternation she had found the catalogue from which Sara had ordered my new wardrobe, and the girl had gleefully taken time to show me the whole pre-teen girl section. It was a bit like looking into a terrible future as I recognised a lot of the outfits straight away as ones that Sara had unwrapped, and for a long while I just stared at the faces of the young girls modelling the dresses and skirts and tops that I knew I would soon be wearing. How the hell had it come to be that I was now one of them? The answer was obvious of course. I had been betrayed. Betrayed by a wife that clearly didn't care much about me any more. Betrayed by Sara and her empty promises about letting me go. Betrayed by my putrid genes, that meant it possible that I could possibly be disguised as a girl. Then worst of all, betrayed by inability to take control of a situation and my tendency to be led and coerced like a lamb to the slaughter. "This is great for me," Bethany had boasted. "because it means she's not trying to get me to wear all of these girlie girl clothes any more. You're just like her little Barbie doll now, aren't you?" Bethany didn't think it was so great though when Sara ordered her upstairs to get cracking on her school work. The girl had been allowed a week off school after I'd broken her nose, but only on the proviso that she did some work at home which clearly didn't fit in with Bethany's plan to spend her time off making my life a misery. It was good news for me however, because it meant the girl couldn't join us in my first trip outside. Not that it made the journey that much better. A realisation that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place washed over me as Sara drove us to our secret destination. If I refused to play the part then people would twig straight away that I wasn't really a girl, and I would have to deal with the shame of being dressed like one in public, which didn't bear thinking about. So I had little choice but to try and not arouse any suspicions as best I could, which wasn't going to be easy. This was brought home to me by something as simple as remembering to sit properly. After 26 years of sitting as a man I had to try and get used to sitting like a girl would do, which meant looking down constantly to make sure my legs were pushed together neatly and that my skirt wasn't riding up inappropriately. This repetitive checking served as a painful reminder of my new status, and my skinny, dainty legs made me realise just how thin I had let myself get. My heart continued to beat loudly as we finally reached our destination, which sat on an old narrow street in the back of the town. We just sat there for a few minutes, with Sara muttering something about being too early and taking the time to adjust her make-up in the rear view mirror. I was simply terrified about the thought of getting out of the car and letting the world see my new, feminised appearance, to the point where it felt like my head was going to explode. I wanted to protest, but I just couldn't find it in myself to do it. "What is this place?" I had asked, in hope more than expectation as Sara opened the door to let me out. It was an old looking building, but one which had obviously been renovated fairly recently because the white paint that decorated the window frames still gleamed in the mid morning sun. Outside there were two blonde women in white smocks standing and chatting, and they gave Sara and I small, discreet smiles as I was frogmarched inside. My stomach had lurched as they looked at me, and I made sure my gaze was averted to the floor which probably only served to reinforce my childishness. Once inside we climbed two sets of stairs, with Sara holding my hand as we walked. It's worth clarifying that, because it was definitely not a case of us mutually holding hands like I had done with Fran on many occasions. Instead, this was holding hands in the sense of a mother holding a small child's hand so that they couldn't go astray or come to any harm. It certainly made me cringe as I caught a reflection of the two of us in a mirror and saw a small blonde girl in a short kilt skirt being led forcefully by her pretty mother. It was another one of those moments when I considered just how far I had fallen in the last five days, all the way from husband and man to daughter and little girl. It became obvious that we were in some kind of beauty parlour from the products that lined the shelves and from the soft smell of cosmetics that wafted through the air. But it didn't feel like a standard salon somehow, because there was a definite stillness to the place which was almost clandestine My curiosity was too strong now. "What is this place? What are we doing here?" Sara gave a little grin. "You'll find out in a few minutes," she replied, before stopping and bending down in front of me and lowering her voice even further. "just remember what we spoke about this morning though. You better behave yourself and do everything you're told to do, or I'll make sure you get dressed in a little frilly dress and taken to see Fran. You don't want your wife to see you dressed like a baby girl again, do you?" I let out a sigh. "But what are we doing here? Can't you tell me that?" I looked down at the ground, feeling thoroughly pathetic. "I'm scared Sara. I don't know what you're planning to do, and what if one of these women knows I'm not really a girl...." "Aawh, don't be scared," she cut in, running her hand down one of the pleats of the tartan skirt that she had forced me to wear. "I won't let anything happen to you." My hand still encased, and my face burning with the embarrassment of being so feeble, we walked up to a empty reception desk and Sara rang the small bell for attention. I looked around as we waited, noticing the multitude of pictures on the wall of glamorous looking women in feminine outfits. At first I though they were simply the standard kind of shots you see in women's salons, but on closer inspection the outfits that outfits that were being worn were very strange. There were some women in police uniforms, some in superhero costumes, even some in schoolgirl attire. Then I spotted the pictures that confirmed that this was no ordinary salon. These were the pictures of grown men in frilly baby outfits playing with bricks in a playpen and of men hugging a teddy bear while wearing pink party frocks. "Do you like the pictures?" a voice said from the other side of the reception desk. I turned to see a pleasant looking blonde girl in her early to mid twenties, wearing the same white smock as the women outside had been. "not many of the men will let us display their pictures, but some don't mind. We're very discreet here, so only friends ever see them. I'm Lisa, by the way. You must be our 11am appointment." She held out her hand to me and we shook softly, like two women would do. Then Sara and Lisa started talking, leaving me standing with my head spinning and not quite understanding what was going on. "It's a little thing we have," I heard Sara say, snapping me out of my fog. "he just can't get enough of me treating him like my little girl and I really like it as well. I know it's a bit strange....." Lisa held up a hand. "You don't need to explain," she smiled. "we get lots of couples in here. You're lucky though, Julia here is about the most believable girl I've ever seen before." I looked up at the two women, who were both beaming happily. I wanted to protest, to make it clear that I didn't like any of this and that I was being held captive by an evil woman, but the words just wouldn't come out. "But you can make it even better right Lisa?" Sara asked, barely containing her excitement and giving my hand a little squeeze as if to mock me even further. "Oh I think so," Lisa replied. "Shall we go into one of the studios and get started?" I emerged from the "studio" two and a half hours later with my head spinning and a heavy feeling in my bones that told me life would, maybe even could, never be the same again. If I thought I had reached the bottom of the abyss before this morning, well, now I had fallen through to the centre of the Earth. I had reached hell. I climbed into the back of Sara's large people carrier car and tried not to cry, holding back the onset of stinging tears by telling myself that it would only further please Sara and her wicked desires. Instead I closed my eyes tightly, but realising that only served to provide an internal cinema in which the horror of the last 150 minutes were playing over and over, I opened them again to see Sara making a phone call. "Hi, it's only me," she said, putting the car into first gear and pulling away as she spoke. "Yep, all finished in there. It was incredible to see, it really was." I didn't know who she was talking to and I hardly cared any more. I wanted to find a hole to climb into and die, or at least never be seen by the world again. This feeling was heightened as I caught my reflection in the car window and saw an even more girlie creature staring back. I was just angry at the indignities that I'd been forced to endure that I wanted to cry. "Oh yes, that was all done," Sara continued, laughing a little but not looking at me. "It's amazing what they can do," she stopped as the other person spoke. "it looks pretty realistic I suppose. I mean, you could tell it wasn't real if you really studied it but it's still pretty incredible. They use a really strong body adhesive to do it, apparently it will stay on for about a month. She gave me a bottle of lotion that will remove it though." I wanted to scream as she discussed my torment so openly over the phone. My hand, with nails newly decorated in a clear nail varnish, slid down toward my groin to confirm what I already knew. An awful flatness greeted my touch and sent a shock-wave coursing through my addled brain as it tried to understand why it couldn't feel what it normally could. I knew the answer to that of course. It was because my manhood had been locked away under a latex fabrication that served as my greatest humiliation yet. The kind of humiliation that no man should ever be subjected to. I hated Sara more than I'd ever hated anyone or anything for putting me through it. "Who are you talking to?" I asked moodily, but wished I hadn't as the high pitched cadence of my voice reminded me of another humiliation. It certainly made Sara smile even more widely, "Oh and you should hear him talk now Anna. The girl had this special herbal drink, I don't think they're really supposed to have it, but it does something to the vocal cords to really mimic a girl's voice. " I caught her looking at me in the rear-view mirror before continuing. "Well no, he has to drink it every day to keep it working, which I'm sure he won't be happy with." She was right there. We had argued loudly in the salon about me drinking the concoction, with Lisa standing nervously in the background. I hadn't been in the best frame of mind after having my penis man-handled by a girl younger than me and then hidden away, so I decided that the "herbal drink" was a step too far. Sara didn't agree of course, and treated my protestations like a mother dealing with a difficult child, "I don't care if you don't want to do it," she said calmly. "I'm telling you that you have to." "For crying out loud Sara," I had argued in return. "this can't go on. Look what you've done to me already." Sara, noticing the odd look that Lisa gave at this comment, shook her head. "Don't listen to him Lisa. He likes to pretend he doesn't want to do this but it's all part of the game. It adds to the fun if I make him do it." She had pulled me into her and whispered into my ear so that Lisa couldn't hear. "if you don't drink it I'm going to ask Lisa here if she has a nice little frock for you to wear and then we're going to walk down the high street for every to see you. Is that what you want? I bet Lisa will have some lovely dresses for you to wear, perhaps a little party frock like you wore last night?" I hadn't argued any further and had drank the awful concoction, with Sara delighted at the high pitched girlie voice that it produced. It was all smoke and mirrors perhaps, but it all added to the emasculation. "They did lots of other things as well," Sara continued, still talking to Anna on the phone. "The girl redid his hair totally, using these profession hair extensions that look fantastic. Yeah, you should see them, they're like a really light strawberry blonde and then she did this really lovely fringe on him." I looked at my reflection again to confirm this. Blonde hair, the kind so light that you only really see it on children, cascaded down my forehead and stopped just above my eyebrows, which had also been tinted to make them lighter. The rest of "my" hair had been plaited and placed into a large ponytail, which was slung over my right shoulder. It was a young girl's hairstyle, a hairstyle that a real 11 year old girl might think a touch too childish, and yet it now belonged to me. It would have been bad enough if that was all that had happened. The fact that my groin was now as a flat as a pancake, meaning that I would have to sit down to go the toilet and the fact that I now sported a silly high pitched voice and a little girl's strawberry blonde hairstyle was all more than bad enough. But I had also been subjected to a lathering with a strange mousse all over my body, which was still stinging like mad. "It's not harmful," Lisa had told me. "and the effects will only last a couple of weeks. But we find it makes the skin much younger looking, you know the sort of pinky, peachy colour that children have." I didn't really, but I could see the difference already. My arms, never particularly masculine and always hair-free before anyway, now looked very soft and delicate, almost like a new born baby. I shuddered as I looked down to see my legs protruding from the tartan skirt, displaying the same kind of peachy colour which Lisa had described. It was all so unfair. Sara smiled as she spied me looking at my new found little girl complexion. "the really funny thing is his eyes though," she told Anna, who I could almost hear laughing on the other end of the phone. "she used these contact lenses which make his eyes look really blue. Then she curled his lashes, I couldn't believe how good she made them, I was jealous actually, and it just looks really pretty." The fact that she was talking to Anna made me think about my dealings with her daughter Ellie the night before. It had been bad enough that I had been made to fraternise with a silly nine year old girl, but now my head span as I considered that I was no longer that different to silly little Ellie. I was still a bit taller of course, but we shared more in our girlie appearances now that I cared to think about. That got me thinking about Bethany, and how there was no doubt now that I would been seen as her little sister, despite that fact I was twice her age and a man! The dark, angry mood continued to coarse through me as I thought more about my situation. I had wanted to stop it everything in the transformation studio and yet I just hadn't been able to find the fight to do so. I had simply been too weak willed. "Lisa showed me a great trick for his Adam's Apple as well, and gave me this concealer which does a great job of hiding it...." Sara stopped suddenly as a burst of police siren exploded into life behind us. I turned quickly and instinctively to look, and my heart sank when I realised the siren was aimed at us. The policeman had seen Sara talking on her phone and was pulling us over. "I have to go Anna," Sara said quickly. "I'll give you a call later." "For crying out loud Sara," I complained, still getting used to the new sound of my voice. "why would talk on your phone when you're driving? God, what are we going to do?" "What do you mean?" She replied, pulling into a lay-by and watching the policeman approach in her rear view mirror. "What do you mean, what do I mean!" I spat back, trying to stay calm. "he's going to see me looking like this! What if he realises, what if he asks lots of questions....." Sara only smiled. "sweetie-pie, after this morning I don't think any one will know that you're a man any more. What do you think is going to give it away, huh? Your cute little high pitched voice or your adorable blonde hair? Or maybe your tiny little peachy legs perhaps? No, don't be silly, just sit still while I talk to him." "I can't believe this. You just couldn't wait to get on the phone to Anna to tell her about all of the horrible things you've done to me, could you? Now look what's happened. He's going to work out that I'm a man and probably arrest us for being...." I stopped to consider what we could actually be arrested for. While the whole thing was incredibly weird and made me look incredibly odd, I wasn't sure that we were breaking any laws. "well, maybe not arrested. But I'll be a laughing stock." The woman, who had turned to face me while I ranted, was only smiling at my concerns "are you finished princess?" That drink really did give you such a girl's voice ? if I shut my eyes I'd swear you were one of the little girls that Bethany used to bring home for tea." "Sara, that isn't helping," I complained, but I stopped talking as the policeman tapped on the driver's window. I probably would have stopped talking anyway, because I didn't like the way my voice sounded so whining It sounded just like a little girl complaining that she wasn't getting her own way. "Look, just stay quiet," she whispered. "And it will be OK." Sara wound down her window and the policeman peered inside. He was quite young, probably early thirties, with jet black hair and a light dusting of designer stubble. I pulled my eyes away from his as he spotted me sitting in the back, but not before I made sure my legs were pushed tightly together so that I was sat like a girl should be. "I'm really sorry," Sara said, obviously trying to pre-empt any lectures. "I know I shouldn't have been using my phone when driving, it was so stupid of me." "It was pretty silly," he replied, still looking around the car. "Was it an important call?" This clearly threw Sara, who took a moment to respond. "Not really to be honest. I shouldn't have taken the call." "Is this your daughter? How old is she?" The policeman pointed to me, and I thought my heart was going to explode out of my emasculated chest as he did so. "Sorry?" Sara replied, clearly flustered. The policeman narrowed his eyes. "It's a simple question. How old is your daughter?" I couldn't believe that, at the very first sign of any kind of interrogation, the always cool Sara was falling apart! The silence in the car was deafening and despite my absolute terror, I realised I needed to break it, "I'm eleven," I said, still amazed at the voice that now came from my lips. "Yes, sorry, she's eleven," Sara added, snapping back to life, before adding totally unnecessarily. "She's just turned eleven." "Why isn't she in school then?" Sara was waking up now. "Oh, we're just going there. I had to take her to the dentist for a check up." "Well why isn't she in her uniform?" "Errm, I've got it with me, she'll get changed at school." He nodded at this, but didn't seem all that convinced with the answer. "and do you think it's a good idea to use your phone while driving your daughter to school?" The policeman proceeded to give Sara a stern lecture about the dangers of not paying full attention to the road, while I fretted over her last comment. Was she really taking me to school? Surely not. Wasn't she was just saying what the policeman wanted her to say to get rid of him? But still, I couldn't help shake the feeling that we had been heading in the general direction of St. Margaret's, and then there was that pink rucksack that she'd put in the boot this morning. Plus, I knew she was crazy enough to try it. "I'm not going to give you a ticket," the policeman said finally, running his hand underneath his nose and over his designer stubble as he did so. "but I am going to need to take your address down so we can send you some documents on car safety to read." "Oh thank you, that's very kind of you," Sara replied, before giving him her address. I couldn't help but smile at the damsel in distress voice that she had adopted, which was far from the authoritative tones that I'd become accustomed to in the last few days. The policeman looked at her for a moment, and I wondered if he had just been suckered in by a classic case of feminine play acting. "You're going to St. Margaret's right? I'll follow you to make sure you get there OK." "Oh, OK. Thanks again," Sara replied, clearly surprised. "That's OK. Now you Ladies take care, and hey," he turned to me, "tell your Mum not to use her phone again, got it?" I smiled weakly, and felt a massive sigh of relief and he walked away from the car. I looked at his licence plate as he climbed into the panda car and and almost laughed. AG12 GRL. I just couldn't get away from the word girl. Then I remembered about the pink rucksack. "Sara, you're not really taking me to St. Margaret's are you?" "What? Just sush a second while I see if he's really going to follow us there." She watched the police car avidly in her rear view mirror. "he was a little bit creepy," she continued. "I didn't like the way he looked at me. Yep, he's following us alright." "He's making sure you're taking me to school! He didn't believe you when you said we were going there, I could tell by his eyes! There's something I don't like about him Sara." "Don't get excited," the woman replied, pulling out of the lay-by and back into traffic. "We were going to the schoo anyway because I had to drop some stuff off for the PTA." I felt momentarily relieved, before realising that didn't stack up. I knew she had been part of the PTA at St. Margaret's, but Bethany didn't go there any more. "Yeah well they asked me to stay on," she replied when I asked about this. "What are so worried about, anyway? Oh wait, did you think I was going to enrol you?" She laughed loudly, placing her hand over her mouth. "You did, didn't you? You really thought I was going to try and get you into a girl's junior school!" She studied the rear-view mirror again. "Look, you can't just enrol someone in a school. You need the proper paperwork, birth certificate, stuff like that, before you can do that. And where do you think you exist on their systems, hey? What would they say about a girl that has just appeared out of nowhere?" I thought about all of this for a second, and it definitely made sense. "so you are really just going to drop some stuff off? But what is the rucksack in the boot for?" "It's got the papers in it that I need to hand in. Minutes from the last meeting if you must know. God, it's really hard to keep the speed limit, I don't normally but I don't want creepy policeman back there pulling us over again." We drove the rest of the way in silence, with Sara breathing a loud sigh of relief when the police car finally sped off in the distance as we reached the school gates. There was a sign on either side of the entrance, one which said St. Margaret's Primary School for Girls and one which said St. Martin's Primary School for Boys. Standing outside the gate was an middle aged woman smoking a cigarette, who Sara told me was the receptionist. "I didn't know there were two schools here," I remarked, as Sara began to drive down the wide, paved entrance road. "I thought this was just a girl's school?" "Oh no," she replied, turning left as the road forked into two. "The boy's school is down the right there. Left for the girls and right for the boys, that's the little saying we have. I've never actually been to the boy's school to be honest, but I think it's about the same size as St. Margaret's." We pulled into a small parking space next to the reception. Nearby I could hear the high pitched voices of girls playing, so I guessed that it must have been lunchtime. The sound of children playing never really changes, and I remembered that excitable din from my school days. "You can wait in the car," Sara told me. "I'll only be a minute anyway." I watched as she touched up her make-up in the rear view mirror, while feeling hugely relieved that I was being allowed to stay in the sanctum of the car. The thought of being seen by other people was still a terrifying one even after the transformations of the morning, so I slouched down in my chair a little as Sara got out and headed for the entrance. It was while sitting there that I had a sudden realisation that I needed to stop all of this now. Through a mixture of my own stupidity and Sara's strange desires I had let the situation go way too far. Without meaning to, I found my hand sliding down to the front of the silly tartan skirt to feel that ridiculous flatness again and it served as confirmation that I needed to escape. What was the end result really going to be if I didn't? Did I really think that Fran was going to take me back if I rode out the punishment? Besides, it was stupid to think of it as a punishment any more when it was so clear that it was really the whim of a dangerously perverse woman that I was being subjected to. I felt like a fly stuck in an elaborate web. Yes, I needed to escape, and now. Where was I going to go to? Did it matter? Anywhere had to be better than the current situation, even going to the police station and confessing all. Sure, everyone would think I was the biggest oddball that had ever walked the earth when they found out, but I had simply reached my tipping point on a day when I had had the very last shreds of my manhood so cruelly taken away from me. So, feeling a surprisingly steely resolve once more, I grabbed for the door handle and got out of the car. Then I looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching and started walking as fast as I could, looking down at the ground and cursing the odd sensation that came from the wind circling around the hem of the humiliating skirt I was wearing. But I was really doing it, I was really leaving. I didn't know where I was headed, only that I needed to get out of the gates and back into the real world where my manhood could hopefully still be recovered. I was going to escape my girl prison, going to say goodbye to a world where I had to wear dresses and tights and have my hair in pigtails, or be forced to play with dollies by a spiteful teenage girl and her strange mother. It was a world that I didn't belong to, and the other side of the school gates offered my salvation. So it was no surprise that my heart was beating quickly and loudly as I reached the metal that marked the school exit. Behind me I could still hear the din of children playing, but the sound had faded now and seemed distant. The noise that was louder now was the grown up rumble of the street. I was almost free. "Hey, does your Mummy know you're out here?" The female voice had come from my right hand side. I wasn't going to stop to see who it was but her arm reached out and grabbed mine, stopping me in my excited tracks. "hey, get off me," I cried, trying to wriggle away from her. I looked up to see the receptionist that we had spotted at the gates when we came in. "You drove in here with Sara just a minute ago," the woman said, in a gnarled elderly tone that had been made coarse by years of smoking. "Does she know you're leaving?" The old woman was strong, too strong for me in my enfeebled state. "Just let me go," I squeaked, "you don't understand." I considered telling her that I wasn't a girl, but those words just wouldn't come out. "Please, I need to get away. Let me go." The woman looked confused for a moment, before seemingly coming to some kind of realisation. "Oh pet," she said, her eyes full of compassion, "are you frightened about coming to school? Look, why don't we just go back inside and talk to your mummy, hey?" The woman started to walk back towards the school, pulling me along with her. "No, you don't understand, it's not about that." My mind was screaming at me to tell her that I was a man, but I realised that I just couldn't stand the embarrassment of saying it. So instead I tried to pull in the opposite direction, away from the woman. "Now come on," she said, almost laughing at my pathetic attempts to escape her grasp. "You'll hurt yourself or fall over and ruin that pretty skirt you've got on." The steely resolve that I had found earlier was being washed away by a totally feeling of helplessness yet again. Even this old woman, who had probably seen thousands and thousands of children in her time, could see absolutely nothing in me that told her I was anything other than a silly little girl. I opened my mouth to scream the truth, but no sounds come out. What the hell was wrong with me? We headed into the entrance of the school and the receptionist, still holding my hand tightly, started walking me up the hallway. "I'm guessing your mum is in with Mr. Lindegaard. We'll just make sure she knows you're OK." I had no idea who Mr. Lindegaard was and I didn't care, all I knew was that I had failed miserably yet again to improve my situation. I stood silently as the receptionist knocked on a red door at the centre of the hallway and then poked her head inside. I didn't listen to what she said, I was too busy trying to contain the million voices in my head berating me for being so feeble and pathetic, but Sara quickly left the office and came to kneel in front of me. "I can't believe you tried to run off," she said, taking my hand from the receptionist and shaking her head. "You're such a silly girl, aren't you?" I managed no response as Sara thanked the old woman and turned back to face a man who I presumed to be Mr. Lindegaard, "I'm sorry about this," she said to the man. "I don't know what got into her, running off like that." "It's OK," he replied, looking concerned but friendly at the same time, before adding cryptically. "It's only natural I suppose." Sara stroked my strawberry blonde ponytail. "Yes, I suppose so." She turned back to face the man. "But thanks for seeing me today. I better get her home." We walked quickly back towards the car, me with head spinning at the events of the last few minutes, and Sara with a strange look on her face that I couldn't really make out. She thanked the receptionist once again as we left, and the woman gave me a sympathetic smile. "I can't believe you tried that," Sara said as we moved into the car park, angrier than ever. "I just can't believe it." She shunted me into the back seat and drove away from the school while slowly shaking her head. "It's bad enough that you argue with me at every turn, but now you think you can just run away?" I didn't reply, there didn't seem to be much point. Instead we drove for the next five minutes in silence, or rather Sara drove while I sat with cheeks burning and a whole new sense of worthlessness. For some reason my mind focused on one of the deep pleats that ran ornately down "my" tartan skirt, a girlie feature on a girlie garment. Its delicate nature seemed to sum up my situation. Sara broke the silence as we pulled up to a busy four way street, the light changing to red just as we approached. "You still think you've been hard done by don't you? That you're a big man and you don't deserve to be punished." "This has gone beyond a punishment," I replied, glumly. "See! There you go again, feeling sorry for yourself. And the best part is that you think you can just up and run out when you've had enough! Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you Missy, but I'm the only one that'll decide when this finishes." The light turned to green but we didn't move off, making the driver behind bib his horn which Sara simply ignored. "and where were you going to go, all dressed up in your little skirt and girlie top? Back to Fran? I'd love to have seen her face when you rocked up to the front door!" Any mention of Fran still made me angry. "I don't know where I was going to go, I just want to get away from you. Oh, and don't talk to me about Fran, you don't know her." She laughed at this. A hollow, patronising laugh that made my blood boil. "I know her a lot better than you think, little Miss." "Don't call me that!" The light changed back to red, the driver behind almost apoplectic with rage now. "But that's what you are," the evil woman replied. "You need to stop worrying about adult things like Fran, they really don't concern you any more," she reached out and touched my bare leg. "you need to start thinking about stuff that girls think about, and learning how to be my little lady. We need to start on your girl lessons again I think, especially now that you look the part." She glanced down on my groin, which made my cheeks burn with shame. "For crying out loud Sara, I'm a 26 year old man! What's wrong with you?" The light turned back to green, but we still didn't move. Instead Sara stared at me with a not unkind look in her eye. "that's the problem, you're still thinking like a man. You need to relax, learn your new part," her gaze turned sterner. "because you're not going anywhere until I'm finished with you, understood?" I sighed. "Sara...." "Ah ah ah, don't call me Sara," the driver behind bibbed once again as the light turned red, louder this time. "Now, tell me that you've been a bad little girl today." "Oh come on!" "I'm not messing around," she replied. "You need to say it." I knew that there was no point arguing. "OK, I've been a bad little girl, happy now?" "Getting there," she started to pull away finally as the light turned to green, "but we've got a long way to go Miss." As we drove away my attention was drawn to an industrious spider that had built a web on one of the wing mirrors. It wasn't an analogy lost on me at that moment. There was much mirth from Bethany about my new appearance when we got in, but it was expected and I let it wash over me. I was terrified that Sara would tell her about my new groin though, the idea of the girl knowing that was beyond shameful, but thankfully the woman kept quiet for once. The thing that Bethany loved most was my "girl lessons" which Sara become obsessed with, probably in the hope of brainwashing me into my new role. The younger girl just loved to watch me struggling with some shameful function and particularly enjoyed me learning to do my own hair. This consisted of Sara sitting me down in front of the vanity every evening (after I'd been dressed in my bedtime pink t-shirt and shorts) and teaching me how to brush out my new long blonde hair and put it into a ponytail with one of a number of colourful hair bands. I also learnt how to do plaits, a time consuming and difficult lesson with Bethany especially enjoyed, "Ah, you're so pretty," she mocked the night that Sara made me place a pink bow in my now plaited locks. "Look at you doing your hair with your Mummy." These weren't my only girl lessons. Far from it. I still had to clean the house in the morning, always wearing either the awful gingham school dress or a grey skirt and blouse, but Sara started to make me pick out my own clothes to change into in the afternoon. It's one thing to be dressed in the clothes of an 11 year old girl, but it's another altogether to choose them yourself. I was given particular praise on the Saturday when I wore the tutu style pink skirt - I had stupidly decided it might garner me some bonus points - but I realised it was a huge mistake when Sara made me sit on the patio and paint my nails a matching pink. I was worried that Sara appeared to be pushing me to a younger age. It was only apparent in brief moments, like when she served up my dinner on a childish princess plate or when she made me complete a colouring book laying on the front room floor, but it was all to obvious to me that the added humiliation appealed to her. I knew this from the look in her eyes, which was not unlike the look of lust that I used to see from Fran. How times change. Meanwhile, as well as watching me struggle with girlie hairstyles, Bethany loved subjecting me to terrible girlie television. Every evening, while she and Sara would settle down to "adult" programmes, I was forced upstairs to watch some god-awful tweeny sitcoms on the Disney Channel. You know the kind, loud teenage girls learning valuable moral lessons about life while shouting a lot. I was always desperate to turn over and watch the news or a documentary, but the evil women had put a lock on the channels leaving me with only Hannah Montana or similar for company. I wish I could tell you that I fought all of this with constant complaint, but the truth was that the fight had been sucked out of me. I still hated every awful moment, every silly outfit and every silly girl lesson, but I didn't see the purpose of arguing any longer. Plus, as horrible as it all was, I was coping. I had tottered over the edge at times, but I was definitely coping. That was until Sunday. It started badly, with Sara bursting into the room at 7am. "C'mon sleepy madam, we've got a busy day ahead today." "What are we doing?" I asked sleepily, embarrassed to find I was clutching the Teddy Bear that had become my new bedtime companion. It used to be a sexy woman that shared my bed, now it was a large teddy bear. Perfect. "Haven't I told you already," the woman slid over to the windows and opened the blinds. "Oh actually I didn't, did I? Anna has invited us round for a barbecue." I knew she hadn't told me, but it was no surprise. Why give me the chance to argue about it? "What? Who's going to be there?" I asked nervously as Sara stripped away my sheets, without concern for my modesty. "Everyone silly," she replied. "Now be a good girl and get in the bath. Make sure you're nice and smooth." She nodded down at my legs, exposed as they were. I knew that also entailed hiding my Adam's Apple and putting in my baby blue contact lenses. "Hold on, do you mean that Anna's husband will be there? What if someone says something? What if he can tell? What if Louise says some....." "Calm down, you're getting all worried again. Anna's husband won't be there, he's working away this weekend. It's just going to be a few people from the school and a few of the girls" friends I suppose." I was filled with a sense of dread straight away. "Oh no, I'm not going to have to sit with Ellie again, am I?" What does a few friends mean?" Sara sighed as she sat on the bed and pulled down the bottom of the nightie that I had picked out to wear. I noticed with a sense of shame that it wasn't much different to the nightie that Sara was wearing. "look, we'll see what happens when we get there. You've been really well behaved the last few days, wearing that lovely skirt for me yesterday and not arguing with me, so don't ruin it. Now come on madam, up and in the bath." I sighed as I swung my painfully thin legs over the side of the bed. "just tell me one thing, is Fran going to be there?" "What? No, Fran wouldn't be interested in coming. Too many kids there for her." And then the woman laughed, and shook her head a little. My head span as I considered that one of those "kids" would be me. Not just a kid either, but "one of the girls'. The next horrible revelation came when Sara brought in my outfit for the day after I'd dried myself from the bath. "What's this?" I complained. "What do you think, it's a swimming costume." "I can't wear this! Oh God, you didn't say there'd be swimming!" Sara had opened the wardrobe, paying hardly attention to me standing by the bed holding the purple all in one. "Anna has a swimming pool, so there might be swimming with it being so hot." "Will you be swimming?" "No, of course not silly. I mean the kids might want to swim. You can put the cossie on under your dress, just in case." It was moments like this when I further realised just how crazy this woman was. "For crying out loud, they're going to know that I'm not a girl when they see me in this!" Sara turned to look at me, considering the point. "You mean down there? I wouldn't worry sweetheart, you won't look any different to the others." "Not in a swimming costume Sara! They're going to be able to tell, I just know it." The woman sighed, and as quick as a flash she had me stood in front of her and was pulling the costume up my naked body. "No-one is going to be able to tell anything, you've got nothing to show there now. Plus your legs and arms are as skinny as any little girls' I've ever seen. There," she said as she snapped the costume into place, "take a look at yourself if you don't believe me." I stepped sheepishly toward the full length mirror, feeling about two feet tall after being dressed in such a girlie item. When I saw my puny frame in the mirror, flat groin and all (I still really understand how Lisa at the Salon had hidden everything so well) I just wanted to cry. How had I become the tweeny girl looking back at me in the purple swimming suit? Sara was right, I would look no different to any of the other silly little girls at the barbecue. She had turned me into one of them. Sara stood up. "Now, if you've stopped being silly why don't you do you hair nicely while I get dressed and then find a nice sun-dress to wear over your cossie. It's going to be a scorcher today." Defeated again, I sat down at the vanity table and started brushing my hair using the large purple hairbrush that I'd inherited from Bethany. I decided to keep it simple, a straightforward ponytail held in place with a purple scrunchy band, while wondering how the hell I could let all of this continue. I was even colour co-ordinating now, for heavens sake! Worse was to come though, even before we left for the terrible barbecue, and it would come in the shape of Bethany. She had been wronged, and was ready to take her annoyance out of me, "I can't believe this," she cried, storming into the room just as I slipped a white sun-dress over my head. "I have to go back to school tomorrow wearing this stupid thing." She pointed to the nose splint, although she hardly needed to. I wasn't exactly going to forget what I'd done. "You knew you'd have to go back to school," I replied tiredly. "And you shouldn't just barge in like that." Her eyes narrowed, a nasty smirk forming. "oh no, I don't want anyone to see me in my swimming costume," she sneered, imitating my high pitched voice before reaching out and lifting the sun-dress up. "Let me see your costume Julia, oh it's so pretty on you." Then she spotted how flat my front was, and put her hand to her mouth. "Oh God, you can't even tell that you're a boy now. Did you get something done at the salon?" "Don't Bethany." "Oh my God, you did. Did they chop it off?" "Of course they didn't!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Was it really so small that it could be hidden like that? How sad." I had no interest in discussing something like that with a thirteen year old. "why can't you just leave me? Haven't I been through enough?" This was the wrong thing to say. "Haven't you been through enough? Look at my face! I've got to wear this stupid thing back to school, with the prom coming up, remember? Everyone's going to laugh at me and it's all your fault." She flicked up my dress again, revealing a splash of purple in the full length mirror. "I'm sorry you have to back to school tomorrow, but you knew that. Why are you getting so upset now?" "She told me that I could have another week off." The girl pointed downstairs to her mother. "But then she saw how little homework I'd done. It's not fair." For the first time in over a week I felt a pang of happiness. "Tough," I laughed, and even though I said it in my new girlie voice while wearing a girls swimming costume, I felt like a man again. This was my next big mistake. "Oh really? Tough? You want to go there?" I could hardly contain the laughter. "I'm sorry Bethany. Perhaps you'll find a boy that likes girls with a broken nose?" I don't know why I said such a horrible thing. I felt immediately bad. If I had expected Bethany to fly into a rage, I would have been sorely mistaken. "You think this is funny," she said, coolly. "Well, let's have some fun today, shall we?" With that she left the room and slammed the door. I was still laughing when she returned a few moments later, phone in one hand and some kind of clothing in the other. "Why don't we take a lovely picture of you in your sun dress and send it to Franny, hey?" I went cold. "No Bethany, don't be stupid." I reached out to try and grab her phone, but she pulled it away and started taking the pictures. "Aww, you look so pretty in your 'ickle dress Julia, why don't you do a twirl for your wife? I bet she'd love to see that, wouldn't she?" "You don't have her number, how would you send it?" "Dur, I'll find it on Mum's phone. Or maybe I'll send her an email? Which would be better?" The thought scared the life out of me. "Please don't. I beg you." The girl smiled widely. "Oh, you're so pathetic. You know what, I think that purple swimming costume is far too grown up for a sad little thing like you." She threw me the contents of her left hand. "here, change into this instead." I looked down to see a childish polka dot bikini in pink and yellow, the kind with frilly fold over trim that very young girls wore. "Mum bought me that when I was about eight, in fact I think it was to go to some silly little barbecue like today. God, that woman is clueless. As if I'd ever wear something some babyish, it's like something a four year old would wear!" "This won't fit me Bethany," I said, desperately hoping she'd see sense. "it's for ages 8-9 for crying out loud!" "Well, let's find out," she headed out of the door. "And don't put your sun-dress on top of it yet, I want to see how you look." I stared at the offending articles with incredulity, trying to think of a way out of it. The thought of complaining to Sara briefly came to mind, hoping that she'd want me to wear the purple costume, before I realised that she would surely love to see me subjected to this pathetic bikini. So, shaking my head, I pulled off my clothes and with a deep sigh, ran the bikini bottoms up my legs. At first I didn't think they'd fit, by the time I'd reached my thighs they were tight, but as though to mock me they stretched into place with humiliating ease. They were designed for an 8 or 9 year old, but they fitted me. Same for the bikini top, which took some pulling but eventually came to rest on my emasculated torso. When I creeped over to the mirror this time, all I wanted was to put the swimming costume back on. "Have you finished Julia," the girl said, entering without knocking once more and then laughing loudly. "Oh wow, you look like such a little doll." She started to fuss with the bikini top. "What are little Ellie and Amy going to say when they see you? I bet their outfits will be much more grown up, and they're only nine! They'll probably laugh at you." "Please don't make me wear this," I begged once again. "I'm sorry I said that about your nose, I really shouldn't have." "You know, you used to sound really pathetic apologising all the time, but now you sound like a girl it suits you," Bethany handed me back the white sun-dress that I'd had on previously. "now put this back on while I go and get ready. Oh, and do something nicer with your hair, will you? Why don't you put it in a couple of nice plaits," she started rummaging around in the box of hair bands, producing two pink and yellow ribbons. "and use these as well. They'll match your bikini perfectly." I looked in the mirror again at my emasculated body in the childish two piece. It really was something that a pre-school child might wear ? what was Sara thinking buying it for her eight year old daughter? And what the hell was I doing even considering wearing it! "I won't wear this, it's not fair! The swimming costume was bad enough but this makes me look ridiculous." I started to take off the bikini top, but was stopped by Bethany grabbing my arm. "You will wear it, or I'll just have to send these little pictures to your wife. God, it sounds so ridiculous talking about you having a wife when you look like a baby girl. You're such a freak." "Send the pictures," I shot back, trying to wrestle free of her grasp but deep down knowing I couldn't . "after the way she saw me the other night, does it really matter?" But the look on Fran's face as she watched me being bottle fed by Ellie came back to mind and I shuddered. Perhaps the girl was right, I wasn't sure I could bear her seeing me like that again. Bethany let go of my arm, grinning knowingly. "OK, it's up to you. I'm going to get ready now. If I see you downstairs in the swimming costume rather than this pretty bikini I'll know you really don't mind me sending the pictures. God, I've got to decide what to wear as well. I think I'll go for some denim shorts or something, and no way am I wearing any swimming gear. That's for babies." She snapped the strap of the terrible bikini top that she'd coerced me into. "Now don't forget to do your hair nicely like I asked. Two pretty plaits, that's what I want to see, OK?" We both knew she'd won. I thought of that spider's web again as I felt my head drop and reached for the sun-dress. The worst part was that neither Sara or her evil daughter really knew the worst part. I'd never learned to swim. Sara had been right about it being a hot day. We left at around eleven and it was already stifling, to the point where I was almost (almost!) glad I'd chosen to wear the light sun-dress. Bethany had indeed worn a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt, tied up to her belly button, while Sara had chosen a pair of plain white shorts with a strappy top. So I was the only one in a skirt again, unsurprisingly. Of course, Sara had been delighted when she'd seen the effort that I'd made with my hair. I wanted to tell her that Bethany had made me put it into the two ornate plaits, but the teenager shot me a look that told me it was best not to. I didn't know if Sara had spotted the bikini as well, but I guessed not as no comment was passed. My stomach churned as we drove to Anna's house. I was made to sit in the back of course, with Bethany jumping into the front seat without question. And why wouldn't she? Why should I, the apparent little girlie girl in the pretty sun-dress and infantile bikini, get to sit up front? But I didn't mind too much, as my thoughts were taken by the day ahead. How many girls were going to be there? How many adults? What the hell were they going to say when I told them that I couldn't swim? Sara had packed a hamper which she pulled from the boot as we got out of the car. Anna's house was big, bigger even that Sara's and that was saying something, and I could already hear the excited yelps of children as we knocked on the front door. In fact I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I hardly noticed Sara grab my hand and didn't make any effort to pull it away. I thought Anna would never stop laughing when she saw me. We had to go upstairs eventually, because it had started to look odd, "I mean, he looks so perfect," the woman said between laughs. "And he looks even younger. I mean, if it wasn't for the height I would easily say that he was the same age as Ellie." My cheeks burned as the woman inspected my puny, feminised body. I had never wanted to be somewhere else so badly. "We're going to need to be careful," Sara warned her friend. "You know, we can't say anything about him being a man today." "Oh I know, I know. I just can't believe that he's a grown man, and yet he's going to fit in so well with Ellie and all her friends." Sara grabbed her friends shoulder. "Anna, just remember that there are some people coming today who really can't find out, or we'd be in a lot of trouble." The woman laughed at that. "oh, I think we'd have a lot of explaining to do if anyone found out. But don't worry, I won't say a word. He'll be treated just like Ellie's other friends, how's that?" And then she rubbed the top of my head, leaving me feeling about two foot tall. The woman led me back downstairs and into the garden, where I spotted Ellie and Amy straight away. Ellie was wearing a flowery play-suit, while Amy was wearing a pair of sports shorts and a plain white t-shirt and both girls gave a little squeal of delight when they saw me. Clearly the events of a few nights ago had been forgotten, because they saw me as nothing more than another playmate. But before I could be subjected to that, Bethany pulled me to one side. "make sure you play nicely with the girls now Julia. Remember those little pictures I've got. Oh, and I'll probably be taking a few more today. What would Fran think about you playing with all these children?" "You're an evil girl," I spat. But she only smiled. "oh boo-hoo. Now, make sure you go along with everything they want to do, and try to be a bit more enthusiastic about it. You look the part, you should start acting it as well." Ellie was the first child to talk to me. "I like your dress," she said sweetly. "Do you like my play-suit? My Mum bought it yesterday for me." "Yes, it's nice," I squeaked, feeling terribly self-conscious. "Hey, it's the baby," Amy chimed in, remembering our horrific game of families. "You got into trouble, didn't you? For pulling my hair." I ignored her, but felt my cheeks go red at the memory of it. But the good thing about children is that they don't hold a grudge, and Amy didn't mention it again. Instead she went back to her colourful chalking on the patio, where she was drawing a girl with long black hair. "Do you want some chalk too?" Ellie asked me, pushing numerous pieces of coloured chalk in my direction. "We're drawing supermodels, are you good at drawing?" "Not really," I thought. But it didn't matter of course, because what little girl really was? More guests started to arrive as I started to draw on the pavement. First was another of Ellie's friends called Maggie, who I glad to find was wearing a sun-dress not unlike mine. It really is coming to something when you're glad that another little girl is wearing a dress like yours, but I didn't want to be the only one in a skirt. Maggie was quiet, more like Ellie than Amy, and had long blonde hair pulled into a pony tail. Just like I had wanted to do, before Bethany's evil intervention. Maggie took some chalk and joined in our game. Next up was another girl called Hayley, who was definitely more Amy than Ellie. She stomped into the middle of our drawing area in her black leggings and purple t-shirt and told us all that she could draw much better than that. Hayley arrived with her parents, who both paid scant regards to us silly children and sat down with Anna, Sara and Bethany who were sat on garden furniture at the head of the lawn. That was when Bethany called me over to her for the first time. "Are you having fun with your little friends," she mocked. "You look like you really fit in with them." "What do you want Bethany?" "Oh look, you can't wait to get back there and keep drawing your supermodel! Are you going to draw her a big pretty dress and sparkly jewellery? You're having fun, aren't you?" "No, I hate this, you know that. Hey, where's Louise? Is she not coming?" "She's still in her room, getting ready. Have you thought about what the other girls are going to say about your bikini yet? They probably haven't worn anything so babyish since they were in nursery." "Stop it," I groaned. "Stop being so horrible all the time." "You're such an infant," the girl said mockingly. "Well go on then, back to your little friends." She pushed me in their direction, smiling to herself about her wicked plan. A couple of other girls arrived shortly, and happily these were the last two. The first was called Sanjula, who was very shy and had to be forced from her mother's leg. But shy was good, compared to the terror of a girl who arrived last. Her name was Ruby, and she was clearly the leader of the class, in so much as the other girls made space for her in the middle of the patio and were quick to give up their best pieces of chalk when asked. Ruby was wearing a short flowery skirt and pink t-shirt, and her nails were perfectly manicured. She was clearly going to grow up to be a very pretty girl with her long brown hair and large, matching brown eyes and she already moved and talked like someone who knew that they were better than everyone else. It made me think how beauty can get you very far in life. Anyone who says otherwise is na?ve. Ruby arrived with her parents, a well groomed couple who wouldn't have looked out of place in Hollywood. The mother, who had long brown hair like her daughter, swanned over to the adults table and embraced Anna with a kiss on either cheek, before sitting down and immediately joining in with their gossip. There were six women there now, not including Bethany, and they were starting to talk more loudly as the day wore on and the wine flowed. There were only two men at first, Hayley and Ruby's fathers, and they were tasked with getting the barbecue started, while the women nattered. Neither man looked much older than me, and oh how I envied them as they drank their cold beer and talked about grown-up things. But I wasn't one of them any more, Sara had made it so that my place was kneeling down on the ground with a bunch of 9 year old girls, drawing bloody supermodels with coloured chalk. The last person to arrive was another man, and I half-recognised him. He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts with a fashionable printed t-shirt and had a clean shaven look about him that made him look younger than his years. He looked nervous to be there, furtively glancing around as Anna led him into the garden. "Hey, it's Mr. Lindegaard," Amy whispered. "Why is he here?" And that's when I remembered who he was. The headteacher from St. Margaret's of course, the one who had looked at me so strangely when I had tried to run away. No wonder he looked so nervous, coming to a party where his students would be. I wondered for a split second why he'd want to come, but then Sara leapt out of her seat to greet him and it all became clear. It was becoming obvious to me that Sara wasn't a lesbian, after all. So the afternoon passed. The girls tired of chalk drawing and we moved onto skipping instead. Bethany, who had been joined by Louise now, loved watching me skipping and holding the rope for the other girls, and a few times I spotted her taking pictures. "You're not very good," Ruby spat at me as I tripped over the rope again. "Here, watch how good I am." There was a definite hierarchy to the group. Ruby was top, the other girls quick to give into her every whim. Then came Amy and Hayley, who were loud and obnoxious and bossy towards the quieter girls like Ellie, Maggie and Sanjula, but not Ruby of course. Then there was me, the strange girl who was a bit older but belonged with the quieter girls who were happy to be bossed around. In fact, I wanted to cringe when Sanjula grabbed my arm while Ruby was skipping, as though she thought me no threat. In her eyes, I was just another shy little girl like her. At the head of the garden the adults were getting louder, fuelled by the drink and the first offerings from the barbecue Sara looked very happy, sitting next to Mr. Lindegaard but not too close as to raise suspicions, although at one point I spied her grabbing his thigh under the table. Sandwiched into all this was the periodical glances over at me, which probably made her even happier. It was when Bethany called me over again that the day really started to fall apart. She and Louise were sat far enough away from the adults that they couldn't hear us. "you really do fit it with the girls, don't you," the girl mocked, making Louise smile. "I mean, your skipping needs improving but apart from that." "What do you want?" I asked, looking down shamefully and wanting to be anywhere else. "That's not very polite," Louise interjected. "You should be nicer to Bethany, especially as she leant you her bikini today." Both girls laughed at that. My cheeks burned reader than the sun in the sky above. "She made me wear it, she blackmailed me." "Yeah, but you were horrible to me, making fun of my nose again." Louise let out a mock gasp at Bethany's revelation. "you were making fun of her nose after you broke it? That's not very nice at all! Certainly not how a man would act." I found myself fingering the hem of my sun-dress without realising it. "you're right, it was mean of me. But I don't think this is a fair payback." Again, both girls laughed. In fact, Louise rocked back in her chair such was the ferocity of her laughter. The girl, obviously unaffected by the sun, was wearing black jeans and heavy make-up and still clearly found me pathetic. "Anyway," Bethany continued once her laughter abated. "We want you to go to my Mum and ask if you can take your sun dress off." "What? Why would I do that." "Because you're hot, silly." "But they'll see what I'm wearing underneath, even before we go into the pool," I hissed. "Everyone will laugh at me." "Too bad," Bethany replied. "Unless you want me to send these pictures? I've got some great shots of you skipping with the girls that I'm sure Fran would like." I looked over at the other children, who were still skipping and singing rhymes loudly. What would Ruby say about the infants two piece when she saw it? Or Hayley? I hated myself for even caring what those silly girls thought, but the truth was that I did. I wanted to remain anonymous. "Please Bethany, anything but that." "Too bad," the girl repeated. "Now go back to your friends for a little while so Mum doesn't know we made you do this. But you'd better ask in the next ten minutes or so, or else." She held her phone up, proving a point that I didn't need made. Louise wasn't finished though. "You have to make sure you grab her hand and say something like. "Mummy, can I take my dress off, I'm really hot." Bethany loved this. "Oh yeah, and say it's OK because you've got your bikini on underneath. God, you're going to sound so pathetic." I slinked back to the children