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Chapter 20 Games Cheerleaders Play The traffic light turned red. Brad knew he could make it. "Gun it!" he thought to himself. But instead he stopped. Brad had always been a good kid and did his best to follow the rules. But after his father died, things changed. He began to take risks. To disobey. His behavior became more and more reckless until the accident. Brad started his journey in this new body with difference and defiance. Caged in a prison of female flesh, Brad rebelled against the dictatorship of society, his mother, and especially Jenn Tech. But the body he now inhabited seemed to have its own system of government, and Brad had never read "The Feminine Manifesto." Ever so slowly, the perceptions and urges that ruled his new form took root. And though it was against his belief system, there seemed to be some hope offered by the new regime. Upon parking his VW, Brad found himself at the Victoria's Secret offices for a photo shoot. They did his makeup and his hair, and dressed him in the sexiest unmentionables on the planet. The photographer kept telling Brad how beautiful he looked in each and every outfit. As the shoot went on, Brad's confidence grew and grew. And when it was all over, Brad felt a sense of connection to his female body and the world. "Beep! Beep!" came the sound of a horn. The light had changed green and it was time once again for Brad to continue on his journey home. Soon enough, the car pulled up in the driveway and Brad gracefully exited as he had many times before wearing a short dress. He confidently stood up straight, before bending back over to grab the shopping bag full of goodies. It seemed Victoria's Secret had a stake in Brad wearing their clothes, even the things you weren't supposed to see. Beauty was not just something for the eye, beauty was a state of mind. It was like a higher plain of existence. Along with the coaxing by the photographer at the photo shoot, Brad was being indoctrinated to the sensations someone wearing the sensual lingerie should feel. "What'cha got in the bag?" his mother asked him as he walked in the front door. "Just some things they want me to wear before my next photo shoot," he answered. "I didn't think there was going to be a next photo shoot," his mother said to him. The only reason she agreed to let her seventeen-year-old son, in the body of a female supermodel, participate in such a shoot was the promise that it was a one-time event. The money was to be used towards some high-tech brain reorientation to get Brad's mind working like a teenage boy's should. Sheila was becoming more and more concerned that her son was becoming female in mind, which could have a long-term impact once he changed back. "Well, they haven't actually picked any photos for publication yet," Brad explained. "There's no guarantee they'll use any of them." "So?" Sheila asked. "So if they decide not to use any from this group," Brad told her, "then we don't get paid. Meanwhile, if I go on another shoot and they happen to use all the pictures from both, we'll actually be moving ahead." "And why are you accepting all that clothing as a gift?" "Because, Mom, they told me I not only need to look sexy, but feel sexy down to the deepest core of my being." "That's just it, Brad," Sheila told him. "I don't think it's good for you to feel sexy down to any core of your being. Money or not, we need to start that treatment ASAP." "Why?" Brad asked as a tear welled up in his eye. "So I can feel miserable and embarrassed for the rest of the summer?" "I know it doesn't seem to make sense," Sheila said to him, "but your acceptance of all this is really scaring me. Don't you remember how you felt when you put on your first bikini top? Or how mortified you were when we showed up at the Brown's with you dressed like Hannah Montana?" "I hated it, Mom," he said. "And why did you hate it so much?" "Because I'm really a boy deep down, and boys shouldn't wear clothes like that." "And now look at you," she said as she pulled them over to a mirror. "What should you be saying about your clothing, and your makeup?" Brad reflected for a moment on the summer. His mother was right. He fought her every step of the way as they tried to drain his masculinity. But now, it was gone, and Brad reasoned to himself that something just wasn't right. "I shouldn't be feeling this way," Brad said with a sense of shame. "And how are you going to feel about all this once you change back?" "Change back?" Brad asked aloud as he gazed upon his reflection. For all of a month, Brad's every thought was to fight this girl stuff until he could become himself again. But somewhere between the bridal shop, the photo-shoots at Victoria's Secret, the dancing and exercise, and the sexual feelings, those thoughts slowly drifted away. "We all miss you, you know," his mother said. "I miss my son, Randy misses his teammate, and Allison misses her boyfriend." Brad was silent as he continued to stare into the mirror. He looked deeply into his bright blue eyes hoping to see himself... His old self. But there was only a blonde girl staring back at him with blinking expressive eyes. Sheila's son, Randy's teammate, and Allison's boyfriend were not to be found in the looking glass. An eerie sense of despair washed over him and a tear rolled down his cheek. If earlier he had felt a connection to his temporary body and the people around him, it was now gone. Brad had never felt so alone. "When?" was the only word he could get out as his voice locked up on him. "Tomorrow," Sheila told her female son. "You're due back at Jenn Tech tomorrow. They're going to reset your brain patterns so you don't feel so much like a girl." The next day came all too soon. If only for a few more hours, Brad was going to enjoy his femininity. He showered and shaved everywhere girls do, as he was unsure if he would ever want to do that again. He picked out a pink lace boy-shorts and matching bra. Next he took out the nail polish remover and went to work on his bright red fingernails. It took a little time and some careful concentration until his fingers and toes were bubblegum-pink. Once dry, it was time for some makeup which featured a pink blush and lipstick as well as hints of pink in the eye shadow. He pulled out a pink top that buttoned down the front, but showed plenty of cleavage. It had a wasp waist, a collar, and three- quarter length sleeves. Then he pulled out a white and pink checkered miniskirt which he pulled up and stretched over his thighs. He slipped into the pink high heels and fastened the straps around his ankles. Brad was standing there in his room admiring how pretty he looked when the phone rang. He was surprised at who was calling him as he put the device up to his ear under that curtain of long blonde hair. "Hi Allison," he said to his girlfriend. Or actually, his ex- girlfriend. They hadn't spoken in almost 10 days. "I'm just calling to let you know what time the van is picking the cheerleaders up for Beach Weekend," she said. This was the big event that was a high school tradition. The cheerleaders and the football team rented condos along the beach and hosted a summer pep rally. Since two of the cheerleaders who were sisters moved away that summer, and a third injured her knee, the squad really needed extra girls to fill the stage. And since Brad had picked up on all of the cheers and dances so quickly, Allison had talked him into going as a substitute cheerleader. But Brad had thought that all changed when Allison broke up with him. "You still want me to go?" he asked. "It's not about what I want," Allison said. "It's about what the squad needs." "I've got good news," Brad told her. "News that affects us." "There is no us," Allison retorted. "The reason I'm so girly is because my brain has developed like any teenage girls would," he explained. "But Jenn Tech has the technology to fix that. They can make it so that I like girls again." "I knew it!" Allison said. "I knew you liked Randy." "Come on Allison," Brad asked of her. "In just a couple of hours, I'll be just like the real me. I'm really glad you called, because I want your advice." "My advice?" "Basically, I have two options," he began. "Professor Chase says they can reorient me right to where my brain was before all this happened. I'll still retain the muscle memory from the dancing and stuff, but my mannerisms will be much more guy-like. It'll shrink certain areas of my brain and enlarge other areas. I won't have the same obsession and flair for makeup and girl stuff." "Will that affect the job you're working at?" Allison asked. "Yeah, I'll basically I'd have male mannerisms in this same body. Being a fashion model will definitely have its challenges." "So does that mean you won't be able to help us cheer?" "I'll still have perfect muscle memory, but my facial expressions and mannerisms may not be as expressive when I'm not concentrating. I'm sure I'll feel utterly embarrassed to be doing these routines, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." "And the other option?" "They can change my orientation, but leave other key centers of the brain as is. Essentially I'd be very effeminate, but I would go back to liking girls." Allison was quiet until Brad thought the call had dropped. "You still there?" he asked. "Yes," was all she answered. "So whad'ya think?" Silence. "Mom wants me to do the first option, but I think it would be a lot easier on me if I chose number two." Silence. "I'm doing this for you, you know." "For me?" Allison asked. It was clear she wasn't happy. "So you're asking me whether I want you, Brad Dowdy, to be a bull-dyke or a lipstick-lesbian?" Not happy was definitely an understatement. "Do you really think I'm going to date you or have sex with you while you look like that?" "Allison, no," Brad said. "You're taking this the wrong way." "And you really think I want you lez-ing out on all of the cheerleaders this weekend?" Allison said as her voice raised. "You're going to ruin me!" she screamed as she hung up the phone. Early the next morning, Brad walked into Jenn Tech wearing a pink- checkered miniskirt and a sun top. This would be the last time Brad would want to do this, so he accessorized to the max. With pink bungley bracelets, earrings that dangled, and flawless but understated makeup, Brad decided to enjoy the femininity of being girlie. Inside a pink tote bag, Brad carried a t-shirt, baggy shorts, and flip flops. With an uneasy feeling, he approached Marla at the reception desk. "Flirty skirt!" The compliment took Brad off guard. "You like it?" He pulled it out for Marla to see. Marla loved it. The sheer, two-layered skirt had playful pleats and was perfect for a summer day. "Look at you! So cute!" "Yeah cute," Brad said with a sigh. "Let's get this over with." "What's wrong, sweetie?" Marla asked as they started the trek to Professor Chase's office. "They're undoing some of this," Brad said. "Some of what?" "They're using magnetic fields to reshape my brain so I'll react like a guy." "Oh honey, why would you do that?" "Because I am a guy." "I don't think so," Marla said with a huff. Brad's poise was as graceful as anyone Marla had seen. She witnessed his confidence grow as the summer went on. His gait seemed so natural. "You are anything but. At least for the summer." "I'm enjoying this too much," Brad said as he motioned to his accessories. "What's wrong with that?" Marla asked. You only live once, you know." As they approached the massive pine door of Professor Chase's office, Brad faced himself in one of the many mirrors. "I didn't ask for this, Marla. This isn't who I should be," Brad mouthed as the blonde beauty in the mirror mimicked his words. "True," Marla said supportively. "Maybe you didn't ask for this. Maybe it isn't who you want to be." Marla paused as she studied the female boy. "But isn't this who you are?" # # # Saturday came oh too soon. Brad stared at the phone for a moment before moving his eyes to his reflection. A forlorn feeling engulfed him as he grabbed his car keys and threw them in his purse. And with the gait of a supermodel, he walked through the house and out to his car and he headed for the high school. Recognizing Allison's BMW and the other cheerleaders' cars, Brad parked to join them. He looked at his watch. 6pm. He was right on time. "Oh my God! She's even prettier in person than in those photos," Kelly the cheerleader said. "Randy's not even gonna look at you as long as she's in town," said Kendra, another cheerleader. "Shut up," Alexis said and stuck out her tongue. By that time, Brad had exited the car and walked up. He was wearing the outfit that he had worn to Jenn Tech and was carrying a very-full pink duffel bag that said 'Victoria's Secret.' "Hi," he said. "I'm Tiffany." And though he already knew them, he was then introduced to Kendra, Ashley, DeeDee, and Kelly, and reintroduced to Alexis. They were all wearing dark blue shorts and powder blue T-shirts that said, "Vikings Cheerleader." "You better go get changed," Kendra told him as she tossed him an outfit. "Mrs. Morgan, our varsity cheer coach, wants to see what you can do." "We all do," Alexis added. Though Alexis was smiling, Brad sensed a feeling of cattiness. He grabbed the outfit and headed for the girls locker room. Meanwhile, the football team had just loaded up on their bus. They hooted and hollered as Brad walked by until he heard Randy shouting to be quiet. Brad tried to look straight ahead as he finished his walk to get changed. When he returned, Allison and the cheer coach were there with the girls. "Line up! Poms down!" Allison ordered. She must've won the captaincy. Allison was dead center of the squad, and Brad was all the way at one end. Mrs. Morgan began pacing from one end of the line to the other. "We're down in numbers, girls," she said. "So we're going to have to make up for it in spirit!" By this time, she had made her way down to Brad. "Aren't you a tall one," she said to him. "And pretty, too." Mrs. Morgan paused for a moment. "I'm surprised they let you out of the Victoria's Secret catalog to come along with us." How did she know that Brad closed for Victoria's Secret, Brad wondered to himself. But after a chorus of giggles, he realized that Mrs. Morgan had made a joke at his expense. Brad had been around these girls before. But tonight something was different. They seemed kind of... mean. "Cheer three!" Allison shouted. "Ready... Okay!" Allison led the squad through a series of routines. Brad hit every count perfect, much better than Alexis or Ashley. After about the fifth one, Mrs. Morgan stopped them. "Very nice, Pretty-Girl," the cheer coach said. "Looks like you ladies have some competition... on and off the field." Brad wondered why they were treating him like this. But the cheer coach continued, "We'll arrive at the condos around eight o'clock. Allison will have the sleeping assignments, and you can take the evening to get to know each other. Lights out by one a.m., breakfast is at eight, and practice at ten. As long as you girls can act like ladies, I'll be staying in the next condo over. But if you can't behave yourself, I'll be joining you. Now load up." Brad climbed into the back of the van hoping that Allison would join him. But she spent all the way up front in the passenger seat next to Mrs. Morgan. Although there were three rows, the rest of the girls just piled in to the first two, leaving Brad sitting by himself. They sang songs and chanted cheers for the ride down. But none of the girls even acknowledged Brad, and before long he just quietly stared out the window. It looks like this was going to be a very long weekend. When the girls reached the beach condos, they found they were staying in a very spacious condo on the fifth floor overlooking the water. With plenty of bedrooms, it was two girls to a room. Brad was assigned to room with Alexis, the girl who had a huge crush on Randy. If she had seen Brad's pictures at the banquet with the quarterback, it would only make matters worse. If only he had stayed home. It was a fairly quiet night once they got to the beach. The girls unpacked and flipped on the big screen TV for a chick flick. Several of the girls had already changed into their jammies, so Brad decided to do the same. He had no idea of what to bring to a pajama party... Whether to bring sexy lingerie or conservative PJs. After seeing what the other girls were wearing, Brad went comfy: a cotton tank top and drawstring pants that had Victoria's Secret emblems all over it. He sat in the back of the room and quietly watched the movie. After it was over and the girls all had a good cry, a pillow fight broke out. Brad thought it best to get out of harm's way, and he retired well before curfew. Allison did her best to observe her ex-boyfriend's behavior. Which treatment did he get? He didn't act real masculine, but then again he didn't necessarily seem feminine either. The way the girls had shunned him, it was hard to tell anything about his behavior. After Brad went to bed, Allison told the girls how he had borrowed her prom dress without asking. She apologized to Alexis for making her room with him, and then made sure the other girls knew not to trust the sexy bitch. And though she said she was sorry, the rooming of Alexis and Brad was deliberate. Since Alexis was obsessed with Randy, Allison hoped sparks could fly. When Brad woke up at seven the next morning, he noted he was by himself. Not just in the room, but the whole condo. The girls had woken up super early and quietly snuck out. Brad cleaned himself up and went downstairs to the buffet breakfast in the lobby. As Brad walked in, several of his football teammates stared at him while the girls didn't so much as wave. He wanted so much to catch up with his old buddies, but their leers were quite intimidating. He gathered some food on his tray and sat down with the cheerleading squad. "Gotta go," Kendra said. "We are starting practice early," Alexis added as the girls stood up and left Brad sitting by himself. He was too scared to get up and join his former teammates, so he sat there and quietly ate his breakfast. He sensed they were all staring at him, so he bent his head slightly forward and used his curtain of blonde hair to make sure he didn't make eye contact. But after a couple of minutes he saw a muscular if not unfamiliar pair of legs approach. "Why are you sitting by yourself?" Randy asked him. Brad looked up with a big smile on his pretty face. "They're being mean." "Mean?" Randy questioned. "Is Allison aware of this? You know you're really helping them out just by being here." "I think it's Allison who's behind it all," Brad told his friend. "Allison?" Randy asked in disbelief. "Allison loves you. And besides, she doesn't have a mean bone in her body." "She's freaking out about me," Brad explained as he gestured to his voluptuous body. "She thinks she's losing me for good, and she's angry that I'm adjusting." "Dude, adjusting is an understatement," Randy said to his friend. "I think I'd be a lot more freaked out about the situation than you are." "But that's just it," Brad continued. "I'm not supposed to be freaked out. It's all part of the science that's behind all of this. My brain, like my body, has developed like a normal teenage girl." "Well haven't you explained that to her?" "Of course I have. And even though I told her I went back to have parts of my brain reset to the male spectrum, she freaked out more. She thinks I'm going to go lesbian on the cheerleaders." "So they made you a lesbian?" Randy asked. "Does that mean until yesterday you were... I mean you liked..." "Don't worry about it," Brad told his friend. "It's her. I like guys... Allison freaks out. I like girls... Allison freaks out. Do you have any idea how hard this is on me?" "So let me get this straight," Randy continued confused. "You are into guys, or not into guys?" "Oh forget it," Brad said as he got up from the table. "I've got to get to practice." Randy watched as the cheerleader skipped off. Maybe Brad was right. Maybe they weren't going to change him back. What if they didn't? Was Brad really attracted to men? What kind of guys did Brad like? Athletes? Football players? Quarterbacks? Or were they forever in the friend zone? Brad met the rest of the cheer squad in the aerobics room of the condominium. The girls still were ignoring him, when Mrs. Morgan entered and ordered the girls to line up. Allison took center, with the others flanked around, and Brad stood a little too far out on the end. "Tiffany," the cheer coach said. "Over here." Brad walked towards the center of the line and stood next to the teacher. "Girls scoot down," she instructed the group. "What's going on?" Allison asked. "You, too, Allison," Mrs. Morgan ordered. "I said scoot down." "But I'm the Captain," Allison protested. "I have to be in the middle." "You are the Captain," the cheer coach agreed. "But there's no rule that says you have to call the cheers from the middle. Allison you're in spot two... and Tiffany... front and center!" "But Mrs. Morgan," Allison protested. "You can't do this. I've worked so hard." "Well, Tiffany here is the tallest," Mrs. Morgan explained. "So for the sake of visual symmetry it makes sense. And no offense girls, but Tiffany has hit the moves stronger than most of you. This puts our three strongest dancers in the middle and our weakest on either side." As the group looked at who was on each end, it was Alexis and Ashley. If Brad could've disappeared into thin air, he would've been gone with the wind. But unfortunately for everyone, he couldn't, and he stood there, to be the center of attention of the crowd and the cheerleaders. Practice for the pep rally continued until Mrs. Morgan felt satisfied. She dismissed the girls and told them they could hit the beach until four o'clock when they needed to get ready for the pep rally. As the girls changed their bikinis, Brad didn't even try to follow. He had never felt so unwanted in his entire life. He stayed in the condo and read a Cosmo magazine one of the girls had left out. By three o'clock, Brad had hopped in the shower early and was decked out in full uniform by the time the girls returned to the room. An hour later, they walked downstairs as a squad even though one member was actually an outcast. As the girls went through a series of cheers intermixed with a series of dances, Brad was in the spotlight. As the football team stood in lust of the blonde bombshell, wondering who she was, Brad just shimmied and smiled as he concentrated on the routines. And it wasn't just the football players ogling him, but many of the fathers as well. Stuck up on the stage, Brad didn't see all of the moms smacking their husbands as they stared just a little too intently at the seventeen-year-old blonde girl. Brad's beauty was wreaking havoc everywhere. After the dances, the cheerleaders stood stage right as they introduced the starting players. An eerie feeling washed over him when they introduced Jimmy Radcliffe as the starting tight end. It was as if Brad was fading out of existence, in the world was moving on without him. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your humble quarterback speaking. We had a great year last year and made it all the way to the state semi- finals." The crowd applauded while Brad and the cheerleaders bounced up and down. "But more important than the X's and O's are the Jimmy's and the Joe's who don a football uniform every week and put their bodies on the line. And while Jimmy... Radcliffe that is... and Joe "The Buck" Buckman are returning for their senior years along with a host of others, I want to take a moment today to remember a great teammate and even a better friend. " "Oh no," Brad thought to himself. "I really don't want him to talk about me." "Brad Dowdy was almost taken from our earth in a horrific automobile accident. But through the marvels of modern medicine, Brad's life has been spared and he's expected to return just in time for the season. And though Brad is not here in body today, I know firsthand he is here in spirit. And though many of you called him a hero for his feats on Friday nights last fall, it's his friendship, his camaraderie, and his acts of kindness that truly make him great. I challenge you to look to your left and to your right and appreciate your family members and friends for who they are. And whether they're paddling around in a wheelchair or a star athlete, there is a glimmer of greatness in everyone. I challenge you to find that glimmer in those around you and help make it shine." Standing over to stage right with the rest of the cheerleaders, Brad looked at Allison to see if she was listening. Their eyes met for a moment and Allison gave him a dirty look before turning away. Having paused for applause, Randy's speech continued: "Let us not forget the greatness of our friend, Brad Dowdy, and let us not forget the greatness of each other." The crowd cheered. "And one more thing," Randy continued. "Go Vikings!" The crowd was going crazy as the cheer squad was bouncing up and down. With pompoms in the air, they kicked and they screamed. That is all of them but Allison. And all of them but Brad. The two stood flat-footed as they took in Randy's words. Brad was deeply touched, but Allison felt deeply disturbed. She couldn't believe what Randy was saying. He clearly had no idea what had really happened to Brad. And he could never understand why it hurt her so. Of all the ways she could lose the man she loved, this had to be the worst. It was as if he was being devoured by sharks. But with each bite they took, someone would run behind and replace it with a part of someone else. Like at Ground Zero after 9/11, something would eventually be rebuilt. Bigger or smaller, better or worse, it would never quite be the same. Though Allison stood somberly, Brad took the cue from the other girls. Pompoms in hand, he shot his arms up in a V-formation and high-kicked shouting, "Go Vikings! Go!" The pep rally ended and Brad tried to hang with Randy until curfew. Every few minutes, he would catch one of his former friends and teammates staring at him. Occasionally Brad would notice a cheerleader looking over at him with a disgusted look on her face, and then turning away quickly. But when nine o'clock came, Mrs. Morgan ordered the girls upstairs. While the boys were allowed to stay down for a couple more hours, the cheer coach wanted to go to bed early. Brad follow the girls upstairs, and then Alexis as she entered their sleeping quarters. Then as Alexis and Brad changed out of her uniform, Brad snuck a glance. This was Alexis the cheerleader! One of the hottest girls in school. It was Randy's ex-girlfriend. As she stood there in her bra and panties, Brad tried to twitch his groin muscles. He so desperately wanted to feel some sense of arousal. Being with the hottie would have made the old Brad rock hard. But now... he felt... Nothing. "Um..." Brad said, not knowing what to say. "You have a really nice body. I was just admiring it." "Uh, like thank you," Alexis said, as she pulled on her pajamas. "But, please. Yours is perfect." For a moment, Brad was at a loss for words. Then he said, "You're sweet." You're sweet? Why would Brad say something like that? The girls finished changing. Alexis left, and Brad was feeling he might be better off staying put. So he hopped on the bed, and turned on the TV. He was happy to be alone. It surprised him when a pretty head peeked through the door. Alexis was back. "Want to come out and join us?" she asked. "We're playing a game." Chapter 21--Screwed "Want to come out and join us," Alexis asked, "we're playing a game." "Really?" Brad asked. It was the first thing they include him in all weekend. "What kind of game?" "It's a great way to get to know people," Alexis informed him. Brad hopped out of bed and walked out into the living room. The girls were seated on the floor around the coffee table where Brad saw no board game, no cards, no nothing. "So, what're we playing?" he asked. "It's called 'Truth or Dare.'" Brad was in uncharted territory. He had heard Allison mention playing it on several occasions, though he had never done so himself. They explained the rules to him as follows: each person would get a turn asking and being asked to choose a truth or a dare. If you chose truth, you would be asked a question and would be expected to answer it openly and truthfully. Failure to do so would result in each of the girls being able to ask you another truth question or dare you to do something that was probably embarrassing. Brad decided he'd be a sport and play along, hoping it would break the ice with the girls. More importantly, he was hoping it would break the ice with Allison. "Okay, Tiffany," Allison said to Brad, "you get to go first. Pick somebody." "I pick... Kelly." Brad thought for a moment. "Are you a virgin?" The girls giggled as Kelly responded, "No." "Who's the lucky guy?" Brad asked. "Out of turn," Allison said. "You already asked your question. So now someone gets to ask you something. Who wants to ask Tiffany a question?" "I do... I do... I do..." came a chorus of girls. "I pick... Kendra," Allison said, exercising her authority. "What's the farthest you have gone with... Randy?" Kendra asked him. Brad was taken aback. "Randy? We're just friends. I haven't done anything with Randy." "Do we call bullshit, girls?" Allison asked. "A unanimous bullshit means each girl can ask you a truth or Dare you to do something. Remember, we all saw pictures of you two at the banquet." "I hugged him," Brad said to the group. "Bullshit," Alexis said. "You better tell us." "I kissed him," Brad admitted, "but just on the cheek. We were just putting on an act. I wanted him to look good." The questions went round and round, but seemed to be coming back to Brad most often. "So what I want to know, Tiffany," Allison said to him, "is why you needed to put on an act with Randy. But, that's not my question." She was looking Brad dead in the eye. "I think Randy is one of the hottest guys at our school. In fact, he is one of the hottest guys on our planet. So I'm wondering why you needed to put on an act that you are attracted to him. Are you not attracted to men?" "I... uhh..." Brad said. He was speechless. "It sounds to me like we have a lesbian in our midst," Allison finished. "Ewww, I slept with a lez?" Alexis asked sounding totally repulsed. "She saw me naked!" "Gross..." he heard Kelly say. "You don't understand," Brad pleaded. "She's just trying to bait me. No matter what I say it will be wrong." "Sounds like bullshit to me," Allison said. "I call penalty. One dare." "Since I had to sleep in the same room with her," Alexis declared, "I claim the dare." Allison looked around the room as the girls nodded their heads. "I acknowledge your claim." Alexis pulled her arms out from behind her back. "Look what I found in somebody's duffel bag," she said as she pulled a white marabou babydoll and matching panties out for everyone to see. The nightie had faux fur over its breasts, and was sheer and see through. The panties were also covered in fur. "I dare you to model this for us." "Fine," Brad said. Seeing he didn't have much of a choice, Brad figured he would humor the girls and he slipped into the bedroom to change. Though Alexis had missed the matching faux fur sandals in the closet, Brad donned them for the total effect. "So did you plan to wear that for one of us?" Allison asked. "Or were you saving it for Randy?" "That's an out of turn question," Brad said, showing he was picking up on the rules. "I don't have to answer." "Touch? Tiffany," Allison said. Though trying to follow Allison's lead, the other girls were intimidated. As Brad donned a short marabou robe, the other girls were really surprised. Not only did Brad have the most amazing lingerie, but he knew how to wear it. And God was he beautiful. The questions went round and round again. Brad was shy about the questions he asked the other girls, as he didn't want to be embarrassed himself.... But now it was his turn to ask Allison something. "Truth or dare, Allison?" "Truth." "What did I do to make you hate me?" Allison started to answer, but instead she stared silently. After sixty seconds, Brad said. "Looks like you forfeit. I guess you get a dare." "Fine," Allison said with a huff. "Dare!" "I dare you to be nice to me the rest of the night." Allison again was silent for a moment. Then, with a taunting smile she said, "Forfeit! That's after the game ends. You forfeit your dare." It was clear Brad wasn't getting anywhere with her. Seeing that none of the girls would take his side, the former boy's heart hurt. Now it was Allison's turn to ask him a question. "Truth or Dare?" she asked. "Truth." "So which would you consider yourself," Allison asked. "A bull-dyke, or a lipstick-lesbian?" "Allison," Brad asked, "please don't ask me this in front of everybody." "What are you afraid of?" she queried. "That they know you're playing for the other team?" "This is a conversation we should be having in private," Brad said to her. "Why should I be discussing your lesbian sexuality in private?" Allison asked. "The last thing I would want would be for anyone to think we were dating." "Allison, please," Brad pleaded, "please don't go there right now." "See what we have here girls?" Allison asked. "I swear... I had no idea when we first met, but I think we have a lesbian on our hands." "Yuck," said DeeDee. "Gross," Ashley agreed. "Why are you doing this to me?" Brad asked Allison. "Because you aren't who you say you are," Allison said. "I love you, Allison," Brad confessed. "I though you loved me, too." "See what I mean?" "You don't understand," Brad pleaded. "Nothing I can do will make you happy." "I need a man to make me happy," Allison said as her voice rose in pitch and tears welled up in her eyes. "The last time I looked, you're not a man!" "I'm not a lesbian," Brad confessed. "I never did it. I never got my brain reset." "Are you just trying to play on my emotions?" Allison screamed at him. Meanwhile the girls were in silence. This was weird. Brad tried to calm her down. "I delayed the procedure. Chillax." "Chillax," Allison repeated. "Did you just tell me to chillax?" "I can't even talk to you anymore," Brad said with his voice rising. "You're such a queen." Brad rolled his eyes and turned away. "A queen? Now I'm a drama queen," Allison challenged. Brad turned back to face her. "I'm sorry Allison," Brad tried to apologize. "I don't know where that came from. Can we please talk?" "Just get out," Allison screamed. "You aren't who you say you are," she yelled as Brad stared at her. "I said, 'Get out!'" It was fight or flight, and at this moment Brad Dowdy chose flight. Allison was not only making him look bad in front of the squad, but embarrassing herself as well. He hoped eventually he could reason with her, but now was not the time. He grabbed his pink duffel bag, and ran out into the hallway. As the door shut behind him, Brad realized how he was still wearing that sexy nightie. Thank God he had put on a robe. Back in the condo the cheerleaders weren't sure what just happened. It was perhaps the strangest exchange any of them had ever seen. Even stranger, the squad captain was now lying on the floor curled up in a ball and crying. They could barely make out her words. "Please don't leave me," Allison snorted and gurgled. "I miss you so much. I miss you. Please come back." "Damn her!" Brad grunted while sneaking down to the lobby where he could change in the bathroom. Were was he going to sleep? Should he wake Mrs. Morgan? She would certainly be mad, and if Allison and the girls got in trouble, he would have to face even more of Allison's wrath. No, that wasn't a good idea. Making his way through to the lobby ladies room, Brad noticed a plethora of couches and big comfy chairs. Should he sleep there? What if Mrs. Morgan woke up real early and found him sleeping there? Or maybe in a beach chair out by the Gulf. As he pondered his next move, Brad entered the ladies room and dropped his robe. As he rifled through his duffel bag for something else to wear. "Ugggghhhh!" Brad shouted and pounded his fist on the counter. "I unpacked my clothes." There was nothing in there but some makeup and accessories to his current outfit. Having seen the other girls unpack conservative pajamas, Brad left his sexy outfit in the bag. While comfy girl PJs waited for him upstairs, he was for the moment stuck. Brad had only brought this sexy outfit because he listened to her, because he trusted her... Now he felt betrayed, and it really hurt. Had the others brought sexy outfits for some unknown girl ritual and Brad hadn't, Allison would've been mad at that, too. All Brad knew was that for the moment he was alone. He was a complete failure at getting along with people, albeit girls, that he had never had a problem with before. He almost started to cry. "Why? Why? Why?" Though Allison's actions appeared to be motivated by hatred, Brad thought deep down, they were rooted in pain. What had he done to hurt her? Nothing. He hadn't done anything wrong. So after feeling sorry for himself, Brad started to get angry. "Bitches," he said as he leaned tensely on the counter staring into the mirror. "Who do they think they are?" They were the prettiest girls in school, that's who, but wasn't Brad just as pretty? Brad shut his eyes his mind drifted back to the photo shoot from Thursday. People doting over him, helping with makeup and styling his hair. He thought about how beautiful he felt in those amazing outfits, and how confident he was that he was doing the right thing. He opened his eyes to the mirror. The skin was pretty and the outfit was stunning, but the girl in the mirror had no makeup. Her skin was dry and her hair was starting to frizz. Brad pulled a bottle of lotion out of his bag. He pulled his nightie off, and began to apply the moisturizer to every square inch of his skin. He applied some makeup. He slipped the super sexy nightgown back on, and went to work on his hair. First he straightened it with one hot iron, and then curled it with another. He wasn't done yet... Brad dug deep into his bag and pulled out earrings. They were danglers, with a white furball on the end of each hanging from the chain. It looked like he had cotton balls or bunny tails dangling from his ears. Brad reached back into his bag one last time and pulled out the final touch. It was a white lace hairbow. Brad stared deeply into the mirror as he formed a sense of self. He was just as pretty as they were, in fact he was prettier! Brad calmed down and thought about what to do next. There didn't seem to be any other options; he would have to wake Mrs. Morgan... or did he? Ten minutes later, Brad looked around at the foyer with Spanish tiles and tropical plants. There was only one door, as the penthouse unit had the whole floor. Brad thought back to last year and remembered half the team was in this luxurious unit, and the other half on the floor below. The difference was that there were at least four units on each of the other floors. He nervously walked up to the front door and stared at the massive brass knocker, contemplating whether or not he should be doing this. He swallowed, and knocked as softly as he could with the one pound brass knocker. But it wasn't Randy who opened the door. "Lord have mercy, there is a God," Brian said as he looked to the heavens and clasped his hands together in a mock prayer. "Is Randy here?" the female boy asked. "I think he's asleep already," Brian informed him as his eyes surveyed Brad from head to toe. Though Brad was wearing a robe, it had a deep cut neckline exposing the furry cleavage of his nightgown. "But, if I may offer my services..." Brian started. "Wake him up, Brian," Brad said as he stomped a furry foot before softly but emphatically saying, "Now!" "How'd you know my name?" Brian asked. "Every girl in town knows Brian Martinez," Brad said as he gently touched Brian's arm. "Of course they do," Brian said with a smile. "Now please go get Randy," Brad said softly. "Please!" "Be right back," Brian said and disappeared. Especially the last few weeks, Brad was sounding more and more like a teenage girl. "What a tool," Brad whispered. "What a tool." Waiting for Randy to appear, Brad composed himself. He was both embarrassed and thrilled the way the quarterback reacted when the former boy behaved like a girl. Brad was slipping more and more with the passage of each day. He had to do his best to act like the old Brad around his teammate, he just had to... but why did he spend thirty minutes in the bathroom making himself pretty? Before he could answer his own question, Randy appeared. The rest of the world, including Allison, was treating him like a typical teenage girl. Well, maybe not typical. Not only did they treat him like that, but he had to perpetrate the ruse. Whether at the bridal shop or cheer weekend, he had to act like a typical girl. It was only with Randy that he still had refuge. "The girls threw me out." Brad spoke slowly and deliberately, trying to sound calm, cool and collected. "Can I come in?" "No, you can't come in," Randy said, thinking of the curfew. Brad knew Coach would have Randy's behind if the star athlete was caught with a girl up here, so Brad wasn't surprised when Randy grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him inside, ushering him through a sea of devouring eyes. Football players high-fived, as their former teammate's robe and nightie bounce about like a bell, causing Brad's pantied bottom to jiggle under marabou panties. For the rest of the team, it was further proof that Randy was king. As they entered the master bedroom, Brad was amazed at how much room there was. The bed was the huge, as was the television. There was a couch, and a bathroom connected. Brad jumped on the bed and started to relax. "Geez, Louise," Randy said to his friend. "What's that getup?" He was referring to Brad running around in a robe. "The robe is nothing," Brad explained as he propped up on his knees. "What are you doing?" the quarterback asked. "Can you believe they made me wear this?" Brad flashed open the robe. "Bitches." "Jesus Christ. Why are you wearing that thing?" "We were playing 'Truth or Dare,'" Brad explained. "They dared me to wear it and Allison tried to humiliate me." "Humiliate you?" Randy asked, not believing his friend. "She loves you, Brad. What could possibly make you think she was purposely being mean to you?" "I don't know." Brad thrust his head back, threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "Are you being over-sensitive?" "I'm not over-sensitive." Brad walked in front of Randy. He pulled his hair forward over his right shoulder, then his left, and looked his friend in the eye. "Why would Allison do this to me?" 'Maybe it's because you are so beautiful,' Randy wanted to say, but he didn't. But what he didn't realize is that's exactly what Brad to hear. The boy encased in girl-flesh was fishing for a compliment. But Randy didn't bite, so the female boy filled him in. Several minutes later, Randy couldn't believe his ears. Did girls really act like that in private? Maybe it was better if he didn't go there, so the star quarterback changed the focus. "Proving you aren't interested in cheerleaders in their unmentionables must have been nuts." Randy knew that even though Brad was in love with Allison, anything in a cheer skirt made the real Brad Dowdy turn his head. With the former boy looking like he just stepped out of a lingerie catalog, Randy soon realized the irony of the situation Randy gave his friend a once over. "It's certainly driving me nuts." Brad felt his pulse quicken. Did Randy really just say that? The female boy's looks pleased Randy? In 'that' way? Brad gently stroked his friend's forearm and looked him in the eye. "That's the thing. I don't have to 'control myself.'" "What do you mean you don't have to...?" Randy played mental gymnastics in his head. "Does that mean..." "Can we change the subject, please?" "You brought it up," Randy rebutted before the two thought about what Brad just admitted. So after thinking about it for a moment, he tried to inject some humor. "Hey Brad," the quarterback taunted as he flexed a bicep and gave it a kiss. "You want a piece of this?" Maybe that was the wrong thing to do. "You wish." Brad rolled his eyes and turned away causing the fur- covered hem of his robe to lift in the air and his hair to swing over his shoulder. Then he surveyed the enormous room. A king sized bed, a television the size of a wall, a huge couch, and a small kitchen. Brad peeked into the bathroom where he saw a hot tub. "This is ten times nicer than where I was staying," Brad said as he surveyed his surroundings. "I hate to admit it, but it's star treatment." "Didn't the defensive ends stay here last year?" Brad asked. "Yeah they were the rising seniors and the Sultans of Sack. This year it's mine, just mine." "Well tonight it looks like it's ours," Brad declared as he nervously brought his shiny blonde hair forward and looked his friend in the eye. For no reason, they both started laughing. "No, it's not ours," Randy tried to be serious. "We need to get you out of here. Do you know how much trouble I'll be in if we get caught?" It could be even worse if they don't, Randy thought but didn't dare say. Controlling himself would be quite the challenge. "Yeah? Well do you know how hard it will be on me if I have to get the cheer coach involved," Brad argued. "Allison will hate me forever. It's best if I handle this myself." "So you're going to go talk to her?" Part of Randy hoped the answer was 'yes,' but what the rest of him desired was just plain wrong. "I've got something better," Brad said as if he'd devised a master plan. "She thinks I want to sleep with you, so that's exactly what I'm going to do." Randy gulped as his heart started to race. "You want us to have sex?" His heart wasn't the only area where blood was pumping. That was his best friend standing there, but look at him... her! "No, you freak. I said I'm going to sleep here," Brad countered and slapped him in the arm. "Then when nothing happens, I'm going to rub it in her face." "That is, if you don't rub it in my face first." Oh no! Randy shouldn't have said that. Brad hit Randy again. "And if she wants me to be like this," Brad reasoned as he once again brushed his long hair forward. Then he put his hands on his hips and shifted his waist like a rotating socket to one side. "Then I'm going to be like this." Randy gulped. Brad hopped on the king-sized bed. "This thing is huge," he said. "As much as I like to be a gentleman and give you the bed, I'm afraid that won't be possible," the quarterback said in an attempt to gain some separation. "We've bunked together before," Brad said. He tapped the mattress. "Plenty of room." "This is a really bad idea. Maybe you should go." Or maybe the girl should stay. A wind tunnel of swirling emotions blasted through his head. "Don't make me leave, Randy." Brad sounded like a spoiled teenage girl who had to have something or she'd die. "Please." "Okay, you can stay!" "Yay!" Brad said with a golf clap. "That's a pretty nice couch. I'm sure you'll enjoy it." "Huh?" "Remember? I strained my throwing shoulder," Randy explained. "Doc says I need a firm mattress." Brad thought for a moment before noticing the heating pad on the other side of the bed. He remembered when Randy pulled the same muscle last season. While the rest of the team was sweating it out in the hot Florida sun, Randy spent practices on the massage table. Getting the blood flowing in that area sped up the healing. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" Brad's focus instantly changed. Once again he sounded perturbed. "Is there a masseuse here?" "No. But I went yesterday. It won't kill me to miss the weekend," Randy admitted. "You need it every day." "Nothing I can do about it now." Brad stood and looked up at the athlete contemplating a solution. He was really upset. Despite the former boy's diminutive size and absurdly feminine appearance, Brad's anger was intimidating. "My boss recently rewarded me with the most amazing massage sessions," Brad told his friend. "I've picked up some tricks." "You want to massage me?" "Don't get excited," Brad said, speaking from his gut trying to sound as unemotional as he could. The excitement had been getting the best of him to. "I don't know if that's a good idea," Randy said as his blood flow fluctuated again. "Dang it, Randy. You need to take care of yourself," Brad argued in as bellowing of a voice as he could muster. He concentrated on slowing his speech down, too. "How am I supposed to catch passes this fall if you can't throw?" "I'm okay," the quarterback told his friend. "It can wait two days." "No, it can't," Brad told his friend with a much softer voice. The former boy didn't realize he was slipping. It got Randy's attention. For such a gentle tone, it sure was persuasive... especially with a tug on the forearm to go along with it. "Lie down, please." Randy walked over to the bed, lied down on his stomach, then his good friend Brad went to work. He pushed down on the shoulder and twisted Randy's arm. Crack! That was a joint popping. "Oh wow," Randy said. "You are good." "Told you," Brad gloated. The thought that he was pleasing Randy brought a strange sense of feeling to the former boy. Randy closed his eyes trying not to think that the sexiest girl he had ever seen was running her hands up and down his back. But as the marabou cuffs of Brad's long-sleeved robe tickled the athlete's back, it wasn't easy. "Brad," Randy said purposely calling him by his male name, trying to remind both of them of a line they should not cross. "Stop." "What's wrong?" "Can you do something about those sleeves?" "Huh?" "Unless you want a repeat of the movie theater you need to lose them." "I'd say that's your problem," Brad said with a laugh, provoking a reaction with a soft tickling with his angelic cuffs and his fingernails. "Better?" "Dude!" Randy boomed while thinking with his logical head. "Lose the sleeves and quit the fingernails. Or stop." Whoa. Brad's heart dropped. In fact, it hurt the female boy's feelings. "You really don't like that?" For some reason it bothered Brad that Randy wasn't happy. "That's the problem," Randy answered in a much softer voice. "I do." That did it. Now Brad's heart jumped. Not exactly sure what he was feeling, Brad tried to pull the sleeves up on the robe. But the form fitting garment funneled with the contours of the arm, making it impossible to pull them up. "You're so transparent," Brad said as he disrobed and tossed the garment on the bed. "Well, at least this will piss her off more." Lying on his stomach, Randy saw Brad's very sexy robe now resting by his head. "What will piss her off more?" "Doing exactly what Allison wants... or at least what she's accusing me of." "Accusing you?" Randy asked, fearing the situation was spiraling further out of control. "She thinks I was planning on wearing this nightie for you," Brad said with a huff. "Like 'my' wearing it will make 'you' happy. Here it goes." Before Randy could tell the gorgeous blonde to cover back up, the former boy rushed into view to show him. "This is for you, Randy," Brad said in a sweet voice as he curtsied. "I'm wearing this just for you." "Jesus Christ." "I know, right?" Brad tried to once again talk from the gut, but something threw the former boy off his game. Did Randy like or not like it? Though emphatic, the quarterback's response was utterly vague. So he fished for an answer. "Can you believe I was dumb enough to bring this to beach weekend?" "Seeing is believing," Randy said, trying to play it off. Seeing Brad in that nightie left Randy alarmed and excited. This was his best friend standing in front of him, his teammate. Forget sleeping on the couch, Randy needed to send this the former boy with the girl parts down to see Cheer Coach Morgan. Brad needed to go far away... ten walls and two floors away, but for some reason he didn't change the play. Besides, a little looking couldn't hurt. Randy could stop at any time. "Ready?" "For?" "For what Allison thinks I'm doing." Brad turned around and adjusted his boobs. He turned around with a display of cleavage and a perky smile. With his girl-arms at his side he flapped his wrists and bounced lightly up and down like he was super- excited. Then he stopped, composed himself, and turned like was wearing a prom dress in the bridal shop. Then, catching Randy's big brown eyes, a wave of nervousness like the most intense stage fright flooded over the poor girl in her nightie. In the bridal shop, strangers blanketed Brad with compliments gradually changing hiss fear into confidence. But now, cowering terror returned. He felt like he had a hole in his stomach. Randy silently stared at his best friend wearing that spectacular nightie over an even more spectacular body. He didn't know what to say. Even if he did, Randy probably couldn't say it. After a moment, Randy got a hold of himself. He tried desperately to look the blonde boy-turned-girl in the eye, but even that was sexy. "Maybe you should stop now." "Whatever you want from me Randy," Brad said with a curtsy. That girl- voice was back. "You're the man." Brad curtsied again, but bowed forward just a little too much. Randy's eyes shot to Brad's cleavage which for some reason made Brad smile. "There. I did it," Brad said as he composed himself. "I wore the nighty for you. Are ya happy?" Randy didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. Lack of communication frustrated the former boy. Brad needed an answer. "She so thinks you're gonna try to get with me," Brad told him. "Think you can control yourself?" "I can if you can," Randy challenged back. It was a threat and a promise that sent shivers up Brad's spine. This time Brad gulped. And he wasn't going to let it go. "Do I look ridiculous in this or what?" The former boy laughed. Then, with a highly skilled head toss, his blonde hair whipped around the back of his shoulders. So Brad brought it forward again. "Um, I wouldn't say ridiculous." "What would you say?" "What do you want me to say?" Randy asked as he raised his eyebrows. "I don't know," Brad answered. But he did know. He knew exactly what Randy was supposed to say. Worrying he might say something stupid, the normally unflappable Randy decided just to shut up. That decision confounded Brad to no end. Didn't Randy realize how much time it took Brad to make himself up like that? Foundation. Blush. Eyeliner. A palette of eyeshadow. Lipstick. Not to mention painting his finger AND toenails. And then there was the outfit. When Allison said to bring something sexy, he spent hours obsessing over which of his newly acquired lingerie would be the most appropriate. Some of the his sleepwear looked really slutty. Others looked like something his mom would wear. But Brad's nightie was pretty and playful. Wasn't it? And why did any of this matter to Brad? Baffled, Brad sat down and continued the massage. Randy kept his eyes closed. The massage felt good. But not too good. "Zebra three. Zebra three. Echo. Red Bingo. Red bingo. Blue 32." He ran football plays in his head. Brad was working hard on Randy, he was getting pretty mad. Pissed at Allison. Pissed at Randy for not taking care of his arm. Pissed at Randy again for not noticing his appearance. He worked that anger into the massage. Five minutes later, Brad shook his wrists. "Sore. Let me change angles." "Sounds good," Randy replied as Brad popped onto the bed and got on his knees where he began to work on Randy's shoulder from the opposite side. "Much better," Brad said as he massaged his friend. Without the strength he used to have, Brad used the full weight of his body to manipulate Randy's hulking flesh. "Ahhhhhhh," Randy exhaled. He shut his eyes and let Brad continue his work. The now female former tight end worked Randy's sore shoulder hard. In doing so, he flipped his hair to one side and tilted his head so the soft blonde mane tickled across Randy's strong neck. With both hands, Brad worked Randy's shoulder as if he was giving CPR. One compression. Two compressions. Three compressions. Having to reach a little too far across Randy's body, Brads wrists and forearms burned that much quicker. Trying to use his upper arms too, occasionally Brads nipples danced across Randy's back sending pulses through them both. Randy knew he should put an end to this, but it just felt too good. And as the athlete lay there with a smile on his face, Brad didn't want to stop. Seeing Randy like this was strangely satisfying. Contemplating how to minimize his wrist pain, Brad decided to straddle Randy's back. Propping himself up on his knees, the former boy tried not to let his nightie touch his quarterback. But while lingerie was sufficiently elevated his recently lotioned legs scissored Randy's midsection. "Brad," Randy said as he felt the blood rush to his penis. "This is definitely too much." "You're right," the boy encased in girlflesh agreed. So he widened his straddle and went on. "God, this feels good," Randy said with a smile. Not very sturdy in this position, Brad's knees kept slipping out from under him. If Brad had a cock, his balls would be gliding across Randy's back. But with his sex organs on the inside, he had a little room to spare. Eventually panty fur brushed Randy's back causing the quarterback's eyes to shoot open. And then Randy felt the sensation of something that felt like lips kissing his back. The contact caused them both anticipation and panic. "Oops," Brad said. "Let me reset." He propped himself back up and continued. "Good idea," Randy agreed. At least his words did. "This isn't easy," Brad complained as his passion returned to anger. "You could at least compliment me on something." Randy flipped onto his back. He grabbed Brad's arms and pulled the former boy down. When Brad's crotch touched down on Randy's rock hard abs waves of electricity surged through them both. "This feels wonderful," Randy told the girl that was once his tight end, the person he depended on the most when everything was on the line, both on and off the field. Ready to say something sarcastic, Brad's angry feelings began to slip away and he stayed silent in the moment. Then Randy spoke again. "You're my best friend in the whole world. I am so lucky to have you in my life." Brad couldn't believe Randy said that. It sent his heart aflutter. "You mean that?" "With all my heart." Those words caused the blonde beauty to blush. Not just his face, but neck and shoulders and even his boobs got red. Could it really be coming to this? Was it time? Nope. "Shut up," Brad said with a laugh as he pushed Randy's shoulders down against the bed. The former boy leveraged by scooting his butt down a little further. Turned out Randy's washboard abs weren't the only part of him that was rock-hard. The scared and excited blonde girl tried to pull away. "Not this time," Randy said. He grabbed Brad's wrists and yanked the girl down on top of him. Brad's eyes got big and she tried to pull away, causing her nipples to dance across his chest. But Randy put her in a bear hug and it felt really good. Even with Randy's heat seeking missile pounding her defense, Brad felt strangely at peace. She closed her eyes and it was then they kissed. Part of her pretended this wasn't real. But most of her licked and slurped. Then her eyes shot open and she pulled away. "No!" part of her screamed inside. She wasn't going to let them turn her into a girl. She wasn't. In one powerful swoop, Randy flipped them over. He was now on top of her with Randy's throbbing penis pushing against his teammate's sex. The only thing stopping them was a pair of athletic shorts and a marabou panty. As Brad stared deeply into Randy's eyes, she knew what she had valued as a guy didn't matter anymore. Brad now lived in another world. She closed her eyes hoping Randy would kiss her again. "There's no undoing this if we keep going." "I'm sorry," Brad answered. This was Randy... a teammate... a friend. If this continued he would never be able to show his face in the huddle again. "Maybe this is a mistake." "You're sorry?" Now it was Randy's turn to be steamed. "You really want to stop now?" But Randy didn't move. Randy could feel Brad's breath. And Brad could feel the Randy's erection pressed firmly against something she used to hate. "I don't know," Brad whispered as her heart beat faster. "Are we making a mistake?" "Probably," Randy replied. But he kissed her anyway. Brad arched her back then lifted her shoulders as for Randy pulled her nightgown off. Slowly and gently Brad wiggled for what seemed to be an eternity. Eventually Brad was freed from the garment allowing Randy to introduce his hungry lips to Brad's breasts. "Magnificent," he somehow managed to say. "Oh my God!" The girl squealed. She shut her eyes and threw her head back moaning tenderly. It took a while, but Randy must have kissed every inch of her body. By the time he pulled her panties off, they were sopping wet. "This is it," Randy told his friend. Now it was his turn to have second thoughts. "What will this mean?" "Don't think about it," she replied, nuzzling tighter against his hulking frame. "YOLO, Randy." "No. I'm not having sex with my best friend," Randy told the girl as he propped up on his knees. Brad's heart was a pitter-pattering. She could feel the blood pulse through every square inch of her skin. She couldn't stop now. "We'll still be friends," Brad tried to explain. She would have said anything to keep it going. "Friends with benefits." "What do you mean by that?" Randy asked. "It's just physical," Brad answered as he also propped up. "Keep your emotions out of it. Pure physical pleasure. We're just friends. We're still friends." Randy thought about what Brad just said. Sounded reasonable. Sounded smart. But no. "I can't do that. Not with you. We aren't just friends." "Then let us be something more." On their knees and face to face, Brad moved closer. She didn't know exactly what to do, but it felt so good to be close to him. Brad looked down. From somewhere the courage and curiosity came allowing her to touch it. She touched it through Randy's shorts. Next her hands went inside the nylon shorts. Then she touched it. Brad touched Randy's member. Brad gasped and looked up into Randy's eyes. Still scared, Brad gathered all the strength to hold it with her hand. Her eyes shot wide open as she looked up at her best friend. This thing was huge! Randy hopped off the bed and stood just long enough to toss his boxer- briefs to the floor. The blo