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"Hey, cutie. Why is your hair up in a bun again? It looks so pretty when it's down." Lori was in Paul's driveway, picking him up for school, just as she did every school day morning at 7:05. "That's exactly why it's up," Paul countered. "I swear it's even lighter this morning than it was yesterday. It was always more red than blonde. Now, it's blonde with just a little red. I just hope no one notices." "Well, what difference would it make if someone did? I mean, people dye their hair all the time. Guys do it nearly as often as girls do. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. You really should let it down." "Lori, please, let's not discuss it right now. I have so much spinning in my head right now... This is going to be a long, tough week for me. Don't make a big deal about my hair, right now, ok?" "Ok," she put the VW in reverse and backed out of the driveway. As she shifted into drive, she said, "but can I ask a few questions?" "Sure." "Great. Are you wearing briefs or panties?" Paul sighed. She wasn't going to let him relax. "Panties." "That's my good boy," she was extremely pleased with this response. "Cotton and plain or silk and lacy?" "They're cotton, not plain, they have little flowers all over them and a little lace on the waist and legs. Satisfied?" "Not really, but it's a start." She shook her shoulders with joy. Their school was just a five minute ride from Paul's. They parked in the student lot, then went into the school. Paul's homeroom was at the far end of the campus, so he usually hung out in Lori's until a couple of minutes before the bell rang, which meant he was hanging with her friends, which was very cool - usually. Today, the conversation was typical Monday morning stuff, cute clothes, weekend dates, tv shows, music, etc., but then Beth showed up. "Hi, guys," she said. Then, "Hey, Rooney, did you dye your hair?" She had not seen it, but she could have been more subtle. "Yeah, I was looking at that too, Paulie," Mary said. "I like it. It suits you." Other girls were complimenting him, too. "It's really pretty when he has his hair down," Lori threw in. Mary said, "Yeah, I saw you at The Dairy Bar, Friday, Paulie. I liked you with your hair down. It looked really good, but you hadn't colored it then. Can we see it down?" "Not right now," Paul stuttered. "I have to get to homeroom in a few minutes." "He's just a little embarrassed," Lori put her arm around him and pulled him close, "aren't you, babe? See, I kinda pressured him to do this and it wasn't supposed to come out this light. He's just not used to it, yet." "Aww, Paulie," Tianna rubbed his back, "I bet it's just fine. Can't we see it?" "Maybe at lunch." Paul smiled and picked up his binder. "I have to get to homeroom. Bye, guys. Bye, Lori." He leaned up and kissed her cheek. "Bye, babe. See you at lunch." Paul rushed through the hallways and made it to homeroom with time to spare. He said hi to classmates and took his seat. First period went by before he knew it and no one said anything about his hair. Second and third were the same. 'Maybe I'm being silly,' he thought. 'No one is even noticing.' Third period was chemistry and his lab partner, Sally Ledger, did complement him and asked him what the name of the hair dye was. She was thinking that she might want to go that color as well. He had known Sally since kindergarten and this was the longest conversation he ever had with her. That was pretty cool. Then, it was time for lunch. Paul wandered in to the cafeteria, grabbing his usual lunch of a free Apple and the free banana, and sat down at their usual table. In less than a minute, all of Lori's gang was there and all of them wanted to see Paul's hair. They were disproportionately excited about the fact that his hair had changed just a few shades of strawberry blond. Finally, Beth just got up and pulled his hair loose. It fell down beyond his shoulders and hung prettily about his face. Rather then get angry and draw more attention to himself, Paul heaved and exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes before burying his face in his hands and grunting at Beth's audaciousness. He waited for the teasing to begin, but instead the girls oohed and ahhed over his new color. They played with his hair and told him how beautiful it was. They all encouraged him to leave it down telling him how much better he looked that way. Eventually, Paul realized that they were actually telling him the truth and not teasing him. They really did prefer his hair this way, too. Oh, what the heck. "See, Rooney," Beth put her arm around him, "it's just pretty hair. Everyone loves pretty hair. Just think of that guy, Dennis, in Drama Club. He's a big, athletic, straight guy who happens to have really pretty hair, right?" He had to admit it. She was right. Denise had lettered in football, track and field and wrestling, but he had a very flamboyant hair cut. Kind of short on the sides with a big whippy-dip on the top. It was all dyed a shocking, unnatural, but not unattractive, shade of red-orange. "She's right, Paulie," Lori threw her arm around him and hugged him tightly. "You don't need to be embarrassed. Just be yourself and everyone will love you." Paul smiled and nodded. "So, are you gonna leave it down, now?" Mary asked. "Wellllll....." Paul was hesitant. "Yes, he is," Lori assured her friends. "Someone give me a brush." She went to work like a woman on a mission, which she was. She parted his hair on the right side and worked his hair till it stayed put. Had she had hairspray, she would have locked it in place. Again the girls complimented him endlessly. When the bell rang, they were all caught by surprise, they had been so involved in his hair that they had lost all track of time. So, they all ran out of the cafeteria leaving Paul to gather his stuff and hustle out without a hair tie to be found anywhere. He hurried to the music wing without making eye contact with anyone. Hopefully, he could get there without attracting any attention. The bell rang just as Paul's hand slammed against the door to the chorus room to keep it from closing. The teacher, Mr Mwangi, was startled by the person slipping under his arm and into the classroom so quickly. "Excuse me, young lady, but where are you supposed to be this period?" He asked with a firm, authoritative voice, not recognizing the student who'd just blown past him. Paul was confused by the question and turned towards the teacher to see to whom the question had been directed. "Oh," Mr Mwangi was startled once again, "Mr Rooney. I didn't recognize you. New hair style I see." "What's?" Paul was confused, then realized what his teacher was getting at."Oh, um, yeah, kinda. It's.... it's a long story." "Uh Huh." He said. "Well, grab your folder and take your seat in the tenor section, please." He grabbed his folder and hustled to the front row of the tenor section. Being smaller than the other boys - and, frankly, almost all of the girls - in the chorus, meant that he was always relegated to the front row, next to the sopranos. "Hi," the girl who sat next to him whispered as he took his seat. "Hi," Paul smiled. Mr Mwangi was taking attendance and his neighbor, a senior named Melissa, whispered, again. "I like your hair, Paul. It's really nice." Uncertain as to how much pride he should be taking in his appearance, he squirmed in his seat a bit, finally grinning broadly and saying, "Thanks. I lost my hair tie." She smiled back at him. He'd sat next to Melisa for more than thirty weeks and she'd never so much as acknowledged that he was alive, let alone speak to him. This conversation had been a very pleasant surprise. One of several already today. "Mr Rooney?" "Yes, Mr Mwangi?" "Perhaps you could stand and join the rest of your section to review Mr Mozart's 'Ave Verum." Paul had not even noticed that the other tenors had stood up. "I'm sorry Mr Mwangi." He stood and held his music. "Thank you, Mr Rooney. Now, from the canonic section, gentlemen..." They worked through the sectional problems for both of the male sections before trying it with the women added. When Melissa stood, she turned her back to Mr Mwangi to place her folder on her seat and whispered to Paul, "Seriously, Paul, you really look stunning with that new color and your hair down. Have you decided to transition?" The question caught Paul completely off guard. 'Transition'!? Did he really come across so femininely that his classmates were EXPECTING him to become a girl at some point? He was so flustered that he couldn't even think of a response for a moment. In fact, he could barely breathe. Melissa looked towards him for a response. He smile was sweet and supportive. She was obviously not teasing him, but asking a sincere question and offering her support. When he shook his head, his face had gone pale and he was suddenly perspiring. He mouthed the word, "No," but no sound came out. The room was whirling around Paul. Transitioning!? What? Didn't she know that he was with Lori!? He didn't only have A GIRLFRIEND - he had one of the BEST POSSIBLE GIRLFRIENDS in the whole school. The last thing he wanted was stop being a guy and being with Lori! "Mr Rooney," Mr Mwangi was hurrying to Paul, "are you alright?" He had begun to swoon without even realizing it and Mr Mwangi caught him, just as his knees gave way. He helped Paul to sit in the rehearsal seat. "I have told you all that if you lock up your legs and lose track of your breathing, you can pass out. You must be careful. Especially, now that the room is warmer than it was in the winter." He looked at Paul, again, "Now, just sit here while we run the piece, Mr Rooney, and if you need to see the nurse after that, I'll call for a wheelchair for you." "Maybe I should get him a bottle of water from the machine in the hall, Mr Mwangi," Melissa was genuinely concerned. "Thank you, Ms Turner, that would be helpful." Mr Mwangi gave her a handful of change from his pocket and Melissa ran to the hall, returning a moment later with a cold bottle of water. She sat in her chair, opened the bottle and gave it to Paul, while the rest of the ensemble kept their attention on Mr Mwangi and Mr Mozart. After a few sips, Melissa leaned in and asked, "Are you feeling better?" Paul nodded. He actually was, but he was still confused. Her earlier question had so unnerved him that he'd almost passed out. Who does that? "My cousin transitioned a few years ago," Melissa was speaking as comfortingly as she knew how, "and she had a few episodes like this when she first started her hormones. I guess it just takes a while for your body to get used to things. She's fine now. She's actually kind of pretty in a mannish kind of way, but you're going to be beautiful. You're already cute and you're just starting." She gently pulled his hair to the back of his neck, allowing him to cool off a bit. "Oh, and you've pierced your ears, too! That's nice." What was she saying? Hormones? This was just supposed to be a little secret to make his mom and grandmother - and Lori, of course - happy. What was going on with everyone around him? "I'm not transitioning," he whispered. "I just dyed my hair and pierced my ears because... well... it's too complicated, but I don't intend to..." "Mr Rooney?" Mr Mwangi's deep voice demanded Paul's attention. "Yes, sir?" "Are you feeling better?" "A little better, yes, thank you, Mr Mwangi." "Good. Then you have three choices: 1) You may sit and be silent for another few minutes while you drink your water quietly 2) You may ask me to call for the nurse 3) You may join your section and assist us with Mr Mozart's music But you absolutely, positively may NOT continue to sit in my classroom and chat with Ms Turner whilst your classmates and I work to interpreter one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written!" His tone was serious and even. He never raised his voice or lost his temper, but there was a threat in it that scared Paul enough to keep him from dwelling on the things that Melissa had said. "Do I make myself crystal clear, Mr Rooney?" "You do, sir," Paul stuttered. "If it's ok with you, sir, I'd like to stay seated for another minute of two and drink my water. I think I may just have been dehydrated, before." "Fine. Ms Turner, I trust that you are well enough to join us." "Yes, Mr Mwangi." Melissa stood and patted Paul's shoulder gently, "I'm sorry that I was talking. I was just concerned about Mr Rooney... um, Paul." "Very good, then, and I am sure that Mr Rooney thanks you for your concern, do you not, Mr Rooney?" "Yes, I do. Thank you, Melissa." Paul needed to clear his head. Melissa's caring smile didn't help at all. He needed to talk to Lori and his mother about all of this. "Paulie," Lori was trying to be reasonable, but still keep things on track as they drove towards the nail salon, "you said yourself that Melissa Turner never said a word to you until today. I'm happy that she was nice to you and all, but why should what she thinks matter to you at all? You've told me that You want to do this for your mom and grandmother. You've told me that you like to dress up. You've told me that you enjoy the pampering. I've told you that I love you this way. So, what's the problem? Let's just stay focused on what needs to be done right now if we're going to have you ready for Saturday. Ok?" Paul was looking at Samantha's red peasant dress, which was laying across his lap. Lori had brought it so that he could change before going to the nail salon. She also wanted to put 'just a little' makeup on him and, of course, he was supposed to put on one of his padded bras so that the nail-girl wouldn't ask any questions. "Lori..." Paul was in a deep quandary. He really liked everything about dressing, but he'd rather that it remained a secret for now. How would he hide things as the week wore on? "I admit that I really like this, but I can't go to school looking like a girl." "Why not?" "What!? Why not!? You know exactly why not!?" "No, I don't, Paulie. Look there are lots of boys at school who have their hair done in salons. Lots with long hair. Lots who have their eyebrows done. There's at least a half-dozen who wear makeup. Most of those guys are straight guys who just want to look nice. You're no different except you're reading more into people's reactions than you should." "Lori! Melissa assumed I was transitioning! That I was becoming a girl! How could I possibly read more into that!?" "Well, baby, the truth is that Melissa is right. You are transitioning and becoming a girl." "What!?" "But only for the photographer on Saturday." "And that's another thing - originally, mom was going to take the picture herself. Then you and Beth and Abby got involved and now she has a professional photographer coming. This has turned into some kind of big production!" "And you're the star, baby." Lori pulled to the side of the road and stopped the car. "Here's what we need to do, baby," she smiled at him. "First, you need to calm down. You agreed to help your mom and I agreed to help you. We have to follow through with those promises. Paul hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, but eventually nodded, "Ok." "Good. Now, following through means that you're going to have to deal with a few things at school. People will notice some of the changes you'll be going through this week and some may ask about them. I suggest that you're honest with them. Tell them that your doing something for your family and that these things are mostly temporary. I bet you that no one questions you beyond that. You'll see. Things will be fine as long as you stay in control of the situation. I promise." He breathed deeply and shook his head while he thought about things. "Alright, I guess." He finally said. "Do you think you could talk to the girls that you hang out with and ask them to kinda make sure that I'm not alone too much this week? If I was with someone in the halls, I'd feel better. The teachers will help me in classes." "Sure, babe. They'll be thrilled to help out!" She squeezed his knee reassuringly. "But..." she smiled at him, "right now, we need to get you into that dress so that you can get your nails done, ok?" He nodded and shrugged. "Ok. Where are we going to do this?" Lori's smile was broad and happy, again. "There's a McDonalds down the block from the salon. We'll stop there and we'll use the ladies' room. It's just a one stall room, so the door locks." Paul nodded his assent. If Mr Mwangi thought he was a girl, then he should be able to get into a ladies' room without anyone looking sideways at him. Except for the moment between when he took off his sneakers and socks and the moment that he put on the red flip-flops that Lori had brought for him, when he had to put his bare feet on the floor of the McDonald's rest room, the change of clothes was fairly uneventful. Lori made short work of putting a little make up on his face, which did make him look closer to his own age - maybe not eighteen years old, but at least sixteen or seventeen. Lipstick was definitely different than lip balm, but it wasn't all that challenging to wear and the eye makeup was easy to get used to. Lori insisted that they have a drink and some fries before they left. She paid, of course, since his clothes were in a gym bag and his wallet was in his pants' pocket. They sat in a booth and ate and drank their snack. "Baby," Lori reached across and rubbed Paul's arm, "relax. We're miles from school. Why would anyone come here when there is a McDonalds and a Burger King right down the street from the school?" He smiled and tried to relax a bit, but also remembering all of the training he'd had at The Hen House last night. He sat upright with his back not touching the back of the bench, his legs crossed at the knee and his dress was nicely smoothed below his rump. Soon, they were finished, back in the car and pulling up to the nail salon. "Hello, ladies. What can I do for you today?" The receptionist was a middle aged, slightly plump woman of Asian descent. She had way too much makeup on, but she had an infectious smile. "Hi," Lori took the lead. "We have a three-o'clock appointment for mani- pedis." She consulted her binder. "Yes, I have you right here. Lori Carter and Polly Rooney. Come with me, ladies." So far, so good. The receptionist hadn't noticed anything odd about him. They were seated at adjoining stations. Two young ladies, also with Asian features, appeared and began speaking to them in a rather harried manner. 'Please, soak your feet in this. Please, put your hand here. Sit back. Relax. When was your last pedi? When was your last mani?' Paul couldn't think as quickly as they were speaking. Lori answered for him more often than not. When the questions of length and color were put to Lori, she knew just what she wanted. When the same questions were put to Paul, he didn't know quite how to answer. Lori jumped in. "For her hands, she'd like French nails, not too long, maybe a half an inch, with squared tips and an extra shiny finish. For her toes, she needs a nice, right, shiny red and all of her toes nicely rounded." "Ooh," the manicurist said, "Are you in a wedding? A junior bridesmaid or a flower girl?" 'A flower girl!?' Paul thought. Lord, he looked older than a flower girl, didn't he? He checked the mirror. Yes. He definitely looked like a teenager. "No," he finally answered, "nothing like that." "She's having a formal photograph taken of her this weekend. We want her to have a classic look. Her dress is made of gorgeous, white lace and she'll be wearing open toed shoes, too. Everything very formal and pretty." "Oh, that sounds nice," the manicurist smiled. "You're a pretty girl. You'll look beautiful in a photograph. They should make a painting of you!" "Thank you," Paul smiled and blushed. Why was everyone so much nicer to him when he was in a dress, or just because he had prettier hair? He had always been a polite young man, but no one treated him like this until he became a girl. Well... not really, but... almost a girl. When the acrylic nails were applied to his fingers, he nearly screamed because they were so long, but Lori assured him that they would be cutting them back. Suddenly, he chair was pushed into a reclined position and another technician pulled his foot from its soaking basin, dried it and began working on shaping his toes. Oh! The feeling was beyond exquisite! It just felt wonderful and relaxing. She could go on doing that for hours and he wouldn't mind one bit! "What do you think, Paulie?" Lori asked. "Ahh." Paul moaned. "This feels so good. How come I never did this before?" "This is your first pedicure?" the manicurist asked. "It is," Paul smiled, "but it is wonderful." The manicurist said something in an Asian language to the woman working on his feet who replied enthusiastically. "She says you should close your eyes and enjoy it." He decided to do just that. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the feelings of having his fingernails and, more importantly, his toenails manipulated and massaged. He never drifted off to sleep, but he was extremely relaxed. "We need you to sit up now," The manicurist's soft voice encouraged Paul to open his eyes and sit up. He glanced to the right and smiled at Lori, who held up her fingers and shook her dark cranberry colored fingernails at Paul. They looked absolutely decadent in their beauty. "Pretty, Huh?" she smiled and he nodded. The lady at his feet said something that Paul could not understand, but the manicurist translated, "Do you like your toes?" He looked down and saw his toes with brightly painted, bright, cherry red toenails. Knowing that he could cover those with shoes and socks, he smiled and nodded to the woman. "Very pretty," he smiled at her and wiggled his toes. That was one of the most pleasant experiences he'd ever had and he would be happy to do that again. Then he glanced at his hands and saw his fingernails. Natural looking bases with perfectly sculpted, white tips that protruded a half-inch beyond his fingertips. His face went white when he thought about going to school in the morning. Lori saw him staring at his hands in shock, so she intervened, "Oh, Paulie. Didn't Joyce do a lovely job on your fingernails? They are absolutely perfect for your photograph on Saturday, aren't they?" Not wanting to make a scene, Paul nodded, then turned to the manicurist, Joyce and said, "Oh, yes, Joyce. They look just perfect. Thank you, so much." Once they were in the car with the doors closed, Paul held his hands out, fingers spread and wiggled them at Lori. "Well?" Lori started the car, then looked from his fingers to his face and back again before saying, "What? Your fingers are lovely. Classic. Julie did a wonderful job on them. Is there something that you don't like?" "Is there something... Lori, I want to do everything I can within reason to make everyone happy, but how can I hide these?" "Paulie, they're beautiful. Why on earth would you like to hide them. We've already discussed staying in control of this. The girls will be be with you between every class. What can go wrong? I made sure that she didn't use any color. I doubt that anyone will even notice." He let his hands drop into his lap and shook his head. He noticed that the nails stood out in beautiful contrast to the flowers that adorned the red peasant dress - a dress that belonged to Lori's twelve-year-old sister. He blinked his eyes and tried to think through his dilemma." "I bet that your mom will love them, too. She text me while we were in the salon. We're meeting her at a store on Cambridge St in twenty minutes." "Are we stopping at McDonalds again so that I can change back into my regular clothes?" She smiled and put the car in gear. "Baby, there's nothing irregular about the clothes you're wearing now, but, regardless, we're going to have you fitted for breast-forms, so I'd suggest that you stay in your dress." When she reached the stop sign at the exit of the parking lot, she looked at her pretty, little boyfriend once again and asked, "What's wrong with that dress? Don't you like it? It's always been one of our favorites. It was Becca's first, then mine, then Merrie's and now Sammie's. I bet that she'd be happy to make a gift of it, if you like it. Don't you like how it feels?" Paul thought about it. As a matter of fact, it was incredibly comfortable, but there was something that scared him about wearing it - it was so thin and light and it hung so loosely that it felt was if it was barely there. The panties he was wearing, too. They were made of much thinner and softer cotton than his usual briefs. He felt soft and vulnerable and his penis had been tucked for so long, now, that it actually did feel a bit disconnected in a way. But he knew it was there and he knew that the only thing separating it from Lori's touch was lessthan a thirty-second of an inch of soft, pink cotton. He thought about all of that and compared it to his 'regular clothes.' "I do like the dress, Lori. It's very comfortable and pretty." "Alright, then. Let's enjoy this week. You're happy. I'm happy. Your mom is happy. Now, let's go get you some nice, plump boobies." They parked in a municipal lot and walked down the street till they came to a small, tasteful looking boutique called 'Athena's.' It was tucked in between a Starbucks and a tuxedo rental shop. The windows were adorned with beautiful, lacy bras, nighties, stockings, jewelry... It looked exotic and elegant to Paul. Normally, he'd never think to even stop and look at the window for fear that passers by would think he was a pervert. Obviously, these were not concerns for Lori. She strode casually to the door, commenting on an article of lingerie that she thought was beautiful, although Paul had never heard of the article of clothing, nor could he imaging how or why it would be used. When he looked around at the store's inventory, everything was screaming 'female' and 'you do not belong here.' It made him nervous - so much so that he felt a tug as his penis and scrotum contracted slightly with fear. "Oh, here they are, now," Lilly announced from the counter where she'd been chatting with a saleswoman. Lori hustled towards her, but stopped, went back a few steps and grabbed Paul, pulling him along with her. "Lori, this is Stacy," Lilly introduced the women. They shook hands and said their hellos and nice to meet yous. "And this is my son, Paulie. See what I mean. The padded bra doesn't give him the tear-drop shape of a natural breast. He wants his breasts to look as natural as possible for the photographer." Paul nearly died. He expected some sort of story to preserve his privacy. Something like, 'my daughter hasn't developed yet,' or 'he is playing a woman in a play,' or something - anything other than 'he wants his breasts to look as natural as possible!' "Mom! Seriously!?" He hissed. "Oh, sweetie," Stacy said, "don't worry about that for a moment. No need to be embarrassed here. I cater to all kinds of people. Woman who have lost breasts due to illness. Woman who want to even out their breasts. Men who want to look like women and even boys who want to look like girls." While she'd been speaking, Stacy had come around the counter and was already pulling a tape measure around Paul's torso. "30," She muttered as she walked back to the counter and picked up a tablet and started typing into it. "I see what you mean, Lilly," she continued on, obviously in a 'work' mode, "it doesn't look 100% natural. Even if we use an older style bra, like the girl in the picture did, it will look much better if the breast beneath the cup is a natural shape and not a rolled up sock. A 'B' cup will give him a nice, girlish shape, too. Come here, dear." Paul stood still for a moment, then, with a slight push from Lori, he went to the counter and looked at the tablet. "You see, Polly," Stacy barely breathed when she was on a roll, "there are cup sizes and there are cup sizes. The girl in the picture looks a little older than you, she was, what, eighteen or nineteen?" "Eighteen," Lilly said. "And you're, what, fourteen or fifteen?" "I'm eighteen," Paul said, a bit hurt. "It's the dress," Lori laughed. "It's my twelve year old sister's. You should see him in it without makeup. He looks like a sixth grader." "I do not!" Paul couldn't believe this! Had his girlfriend and mother lost all of their filtering mechanisms today, or did women just always discuss embarrassing things without any thought for the consequences? Lilly laughed. "I bet you do, Paulie. Your brother was at least your height in sixth grade, probably taller and definitely broader. "Here, look at these Polly," Stacy, interrupted. "For an eighteen year old who is fit and hasn't carried a child, her breasts should be high and perky and look healthy. The nipple, as a rule, should be high on the tear drop shape and should have a little movement when she walks or runs, but not just swing around. What do you think of these? They are very supple, the nipple is pronounced, but don't protrude too much and they have a little weight to them, so they'll move naturally when you walk. You can even bath and swim in them." The item on the screen was fairly nondescript. It was a lump of silicon that had the shape of a natural breast, but it was just a beige lump. "I like the shape, Stacy," Lilly said, "but can we get them in a flesh tone?" "Oh, sure. We can make them as realistic as you'd like, but every addition is a little more expensive. We can match her skin color easily and, of course, a little makeup will make it perfect. We can make the nipple and areola more realistic, too. As a matter of fact, we can make them so realistic that she could take of her bra in public and no one would even suspect that her breasts weren't real." Paul opted not to correct the barrage of female pronouns that had just been directed at him, but he had to admit that the idea of breasts was very exciting. His penis was stirring in his panty-gusset. "It's a once in a lifetime opportunity for Paulie to experience what it's like to be a woman," Lilly purred, obviously enraptured by the idea of purchasing breasts for her little boy. "I think we'll go all in and get the best. What would that cost us?" Stacy and Lilly continued to talk prices, breast types and different types of adhesives for attaching the breasts and securing his manhood - that second thing seemed a little unnecessary to Paul, but no one seemed overly interested in his point of view. Meanwhile Lori put her arm around Paul's shoulders. "You ok, baby? You look a little overwhelmed." He shrugged. "I'll be ok. It's just a lot to think about." She kissed the part in his hair and breathed in the smell of strawberries, flowers and hairspray. She really liked it. "What's to think about? You'll just look like a girl, and the breasts will make you look a little older, too. Of course, once you've had your makeup and hair done by Aunt Alison, you'll look a little older, anyway." She rubbed his rear end through the thin material of the dress and panties as she continued. "Just imagine what those will feel like when their attached. You'll feel like a girl every time you move and they jiggle on your chest. Just like mine do. Won't that be nice?" "Attached? Don't they just sit in my bra?" She smiled and caressed his bottom some more. "The basic ones would, I'm sure, but your mom is buying you the best. Those are glued to your chest. You heard what Stacy said. You'll be able to go topless and no one will be able to tell. If we glue your wee-wee between your legs, you'll look just like a girl. Like my girl." This was a lot to take in. The idea of being that much of a girl made him want to leap up and scream 'hallelujah,' but it also scared him to the point of feeling that now familiar sensation of his genitals contracting. He cupped his left hand over his mouth and his right hand on top of the left as he considered how small and pretty and vulnerable and female he'd be if he did this. "Oh, Paulie, look at those nails!" Lilly looked with amazement at his hands. She took them from his face and held them in her hands as she inspected them. "Oh, Lori, she did such a good job! They make your hands look gorgeous, Paulie." "Thanks," he smiled at the attention, but he was still concerned about keeping them concealed at school. "Oh, honey," Lilly loved the look of his hands. "We need to get you a couple of pretty, sparkly rings so that everyone notices these. They're so pretty." "See, baby" Lori jumped into the conversation before Paul could say anything, "I told you. You need to embrace these things. You've never looked this cute before. You need to show off the new you. Not hide it." "Oh, yes, Paulie," Lilly continued. "Why just look at this little dress of yours. How cute can you get? Why wouldn't you want everyone to see how adorable you are in this?" "Yesterday, Lori said I looked like Holly Hobby in this," Paul was trying to make a point. He wasn't sure what it was, but at the core of it, he wanted to express that he thought that the dress was cute, too, but if he had to dress as a girl after school, then he at least wanted to look like a girl his age. "Oh, you're right, Lori, he really does," Lilly gushed. "Oh, Paulie, I wish you could enjoy this as much as we do. You are just adorable, sweetheart." Stacy interrupted the flow of conversation, which was fine with Paul since there didn't seem to be any possible way to point out that he wanted to be a big girl without sounding like a child. "Ok, Lilly, good news. Our supplier has exactly what you need in stock. I can have it for you tomorrow. These are perfect for you, Polly. They will do everything real breasts will do - shy of breast feeding a baby. You can wear anything, no matter how revealing. Even a bikini. Lilly, I ordered the adhesive for the prosthesis and that other adhesive we discussed. Those will secure her girls AND her boys nicely." "This is going to be so freaking awesome, Paulie!" Lori was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she spoke. Paul noticed how her breasts bounced with her and he thought, "I wounded what that will feel like." The Dairy Bar wasn't very crowded. Monday nights were much less busy than Fridays and Saturday's. "Lori, I already put in your order," Beth called from a booth where she sat with several of the girls from Lori's group at school. As Lori and Paul approached the booth, a series of 'Awws' erupted from the girls as they caught sight of Paul in the youthful, red, flowered, peasant dress. He looked around and there were just a few, older couples enjoying their burgers or fried fish, so he relaxed and got into the spirit of things. He took a hold of the hem of the spacious skirt and gave a slightly clumsy, slightly self-consious curtsy, eliciting more 'awws' and some applause. Beth stood to meet them. She hugged Paul patted his back. "Aww, Rooney, you look adorable. Like a little, Russian peasant girl." "You look great, Paulie," said one. "That's adorable, Paulie. Lori, did you pick that out?" said another. He smiled at the attention. He felt safe with these girls. They always made him special, kind of like his was their mascot or something. "Oh, Rooney! Look at his toes, girls! How cute!" Beth bent low, put one arm behind his waist, the other behind his knees and, seemingly effortlessly, lifted him up as if he was a bride being carried over the threshold on her honeymoon, and she held his feet towards the girls for their inspection. For his part, Paul, instinctively, threw his arms around her neck to keep from falling, let out a high pitched, girlish squeal of delight allowed himself to be their play thing for the time being. They'd always treated him well, but this kind of attention was new and exciting and wonderful. Not just being part of their group in a new way, but the feeling of being lifted and swung around, the air flowing up up under his dress and billowing the skirt. He loved it. When she put him back down, Lori said, "Show them your fingers, baby." He did and suddenly, these things that had made him so apprehensive became a source of pride. The compliments were coming in waves as the girls showered him with compliments. The food was good and greasy and they all shared a huge plate of fries and chatted about school and friends and boys and college and prom. At some point, Lori noticed that Paul was looking towards the rest rooms. "Do you need to use the ladies' room, babe?" Paul bobbed his shoulders from side to side a few times before nodding that he did. "I do, too, Rooney," Beth said. "I'll take you with me." She jumped up and offered a hand to Paul, who took it and headed off to the ladies' room with her. Paul had been in the men's room at The Dairy Bar dozens of times. It was just like a million other men's rooms. Two urinals, one stall and two sinks. The ladies' room was a bit bigger than the men's. Where the men's room had a band of blue tile around the walls, the ladies' had a powdery pink band. It also had four stalls, the same two sinks and a long, padded bench. Beth saw Paul staring at the bench and it occurred to her that this was probably unique to a women's lavatory. She smiled and said, "It's for changing a baby's diapers or breast feeding. People used to be more bashful about breast feeding in front of other people," and she entered a stall. Paul lingered there a moment longer, looking at the bench, then letting his gaze wander to the bodice of his dress where his padded bra created a protrusion in the line of the garment. Obviously, he knew that women breast fed their children, but, up until this moment, he'd really only considered breasts as beautiful, feminine and desirable. For the first time, he considered the actual biological function of breasts. How extraordinary it must be to not only bring a life into the world, but to then have the responsibility of creating food with your own body to sustain that life. What must that feel like? To have a life that dependent on you? To feel that life cling to you? Attach to you? To have another, beautiful, helpless, little being draw milk from your breasts so that that tiny life could thrive. It was just biological, yet it was magnificent and miraculous. He looked at his own, padded imitation of breasts and he felt strangely impotent and inferior. He entered the stall, all these thoughts swirling through his head, pulled his panties to his knees, raised his dress, sat, pushed his limp penis between his thighs and relieved himself, while wondering, suddenly and shockingly, what it must really be like to be a girl - a woman. It had never occurred to him before how truly superior a woman was to a man - to any man. It was a revelation and it was awe inspiring. When he was done, he wiped, tucked and adjusted himself before stepping out of the stall. Beth had finished washing and was seated on the bench, using her phone to check one social media platform or another. When he'd washed and dried his hands, he looked at Beth who patted the bench next to her and said, " Let's chat, Rooney," and she smiled. Paul sat as he'd been taught, knees together, dress smoothed under, back straight and not touching the wall. Once seated, he crossed his knees and made sure the hem of the dress was perfect. He made quite the little picture of femininity, especially in contrast with Beth who was somewhat sprawled on the bench next to him. This contrast did not go unnoticed by Beth. They sat in silence for a moment or two, until Beth drew herself forward, hunched forward and put her elbows on her knees and let out a long breath before speaking. "We're friends, Rooney, right?" Paul had always thought of Beth as Lori's friend, not his, but, come to think of it, he had been spending a lot of time with her since October when he'd started dating Lori. "Sure," He said, "I guess so." She smiled at his response, but didn't challenge the way he said it. She nodded and proceeded cautiously. "Ok, so, we're friends. Well, I want to ask you something, as a friend. Is that ok?" "Sure, I guess so." "Ok..." she chose her words carefully. "So... on Saturday morning, I saw you in a dress for the first time, right? And your mom explained it, ok?" He nodded. "Then, yesterday morning, you came downstairs in some kind of old-style negligee and your hair in curlers, looking much more like a girl than you did on Saturday, right?" Again, he nodded. "So, today you show up at school with your hair dyed and your ears pierced. Again - all explained away." He was getting nervous. Where was this heading? He shrugged. "Now, you show up here looking cute as a button, but kind of over the top girlie, if you know what I mean." Paul felt some shame and knew that his cheeks were red. He could feel them burning. He nodded, but he wasn't smiling. He could feel embarrassment burning his throat and tears threatening to leak from his eyes. Beth could see that she was upsetting him, so she paused and took both of his hands in hers as she sat somewhat taller. "Look, Rooney, I'm not judging you, or anyone else. That's not what I'm getting at. I just want to ask you... well, I guess that what I'm trying to say is... Aww, shit, Rooney, I'm no good at this, but I need to ask you - Where are you going with this? I mean, are you going to start dressing girly all the time, because you can't really be doing it part time for long. And... well, are you ok with all of this? I mean, no one's forcing you, right? Your mom, or Lori? They're not making you do anything you don't want you to do, right? I mean, I love Lori, but I know how obsessed she can get and if she's putting too much pressure on you, you can tell me and I'll talk to her." A tear fell down Paul's face and his eyes closed in demure thought as he considered her question. Things were definitely moving very fast and his mom and Lori were unquestionably moving faster than he had expected, but the truth was - no - they were not forcing him to do anything that he didn't want to do and was actually very happy to do. It was exciting and he felt... right... when he was dressed. He shook his head, throwing his hair behind his shoulder, used the ring finger of each hand to wipe away the tears that had already escaped his eyes, as he sniffed back more tears. He struggled to smile as he turned towards Beth. "Beth, I don't know what to say. You're so kind... I didn't expect you too... I mean, if anyone was going to tease me, you know..." She put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a loving shake. "Don't kid yourself, Rooney. I may have a tough crust, but I love all you guys." Paul smiled and even laughed as he struggled not to cry. "So, tell me the truth, Rooney. Is anyone forcing you to do anything you don't want to do? You can tell me. If you need help, I'm here for you." He shook his head, again, and finally he was able to smile a big, full, pretty smile and laughed as he admitted, "No, Beth, thank you. No one is making me do anything I don't want to do, but thank you, so much, for caring so much. I'm really touched." She gave him a final hug before releasing him. After a moment, she asked again, "So, where is this all headed, then?" Paul shrugged, rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I don't really know. It's all happening so fast. I mean I like it - I mean I REALLY like it - but should I be doing it at all, let alone full time, you know? I just don't know how to answer that." Beth nodded. He'd given her an honest answer. Now, it was time to join the others again. "Ok, Rooney," she helped him to stand, "just remember that I'm here for you if need anything. Anything at all." Paul gave her a tight, thankful, chaste hug. In true male style, he'd never examined his relationship with Beth, before. He wasn't even sure she liked him. He certainly never expected her to show him this kind of friendship. As he released her, she kissed his right cheek, then patted his left cheek. "Remember, Paulie, I love you, too. I used to think of you like a little brother. I like you as my little sister, too." Paul beamed. "You called me 'Paulie.' You've never called me that, before." She gripped his shoulders firmly and turned him towards the door, pushing him forward as she headed for the exit. "Yeah, well, forget about it, Rooney. It'll never happen again." When they returned to the booth, they were holding hands and laughing. They joined the others and talked and laughed and teased each other until it was time to go. He'd slept the night in a light blue, cotton nightie that his mom had picked up for him Monday evening, and when he came downstairs, his hair was still braided. He had started brushing his hair one hundred times in the morning and evening as Lori's mom had suggested and he liked how it looked and felt, but one of the girls at The Dairy Bar last night had suggested that, if he brushed his hair, then braided it before going to bed, then, again, brushed it in the morning, his hair would have more body - so, he was trying it. "Oh, how pretty you are this morning, Paulie," Lilly gushed. What a change she'd seen in him over the last few days. Gone was the sloppy, artsy boy with the stringy, greasy boy-bun, and in his place was this rather meticulous young lady, experimenting her way into womanhood - much the way that a twelve or thirteen year old girl did. Trying just a tiny bit more each time she went out. "Thanks, mom. Do you think you could help me put my hair into a neat bun this morning? It's always kind of messy when I do it." "Well, yes, I certainly can, but, maybe you should consider leaving it in a braid for today. It looks so nice." "Mom," Paul smiled at her, "it's hard enough to hide what's going on around here this week from the people at school as is. If I wear a braid to school, how will I explain that?" "Explain what? That you want to look nice? Since when has that been a crime?" "You know what I mean, mom. Will you help me out" Lilly gave a loud, long, dramatic, noisy sigh. "If I must, I must, but I want to go on record as saying that I think your braid is absolutely adorable in I think that it's a shame that you aren't man enough to wear it to school." She smiled at him and kissed his forehead, then placed a plate of fruit salad in front of him. "Tell you what. You eat your breakfast and I'll brush out your hair, then I'll do the bun after you're dressed." While Paul munched his melon and apple bits, Lilly gently undid the braid and, with a soft bristle brush, began brushing his hair. "It is amazing," Lilly commented, "how much better your hair looks after just a couple of days of care. The conditioning and brushing have helped immensely, not to mention this color. Oh, Paulie, all of this beauty that we found... I hope that you keep some of it after this week. It would be such a shame to waste it, now." Paul just smiled at his mother's flattery. When he'd finished, he hustled upstairs, removed his nightie, folded it neatly under his pillow and picked out his clothes for the day. First, a pair of beige, silky panties with the lacy front and side panels. He tucked himself in securely, then placed the matching bra in his book bag so he could put it on after school. He went to grab a pair of jeans, but decided that they would be too rough. He'd gotten used to nicer fabrics. Instead, he grabbed a pair of dress slacks and pulled them on. Still not as nice as a dress, a slip or a petticoat, but better. Then he had a revelation. He grabbed the bag that Lori had brought over on Friday and rummaged until he found what he was looking for. There it was! A pair of sheer pantyhose. That would feel better than the rough fabric. He took his time and put them on correctly, then noticed that there was a pack of the type of tee shirts that he usually referred to as 'wife beaters' in the bag. He grabbed the bag. It read, "Layering Tee Shirts. Pack of 3. Cotton/Lycra blend." He took out one of the white shirts and slipped it over his head. It clung to him pleasantly and hung over the top of the pantyhose, assuring him that they would stay concealed. He looked in the mirror. Ok. Kinda cute, but he missed his breasts. He grabbed a pair of Star Wars socks - they had markings that looked like the markings on R2D2 - and pulled them on, lamenting that they would cover his pretty, painted toes. Oh, well. Best to just enjoy these things 'in the closet,' so to speak. He pulled his dress slacks on for the second time, then grabbed a white polo shirt, but he stopped as he was taking it off the hanger because something else had caught his eye. There, in the back of the closet, was a Hawaiian shirt that he'd worn to a neighborhood luau-themed party last year. It was a men's shirt, but it had a light blue background with hibiscus flowers all about the material. It was lightweight and pretty and comfortable and hung loosely about his small frame. It was perfect for a bright, sunny, breezy Tuesday morning. He looked in the mirror, again. Again, it looked cute, but with a padded bra and a little makeup and he'd look HOT! He smiled at his playfulness. He really enjoyed this, but he had to remember not to get carried away. Geez, his hair did look good, though. It was shiny and silky and had a nice amount of body to it. When his mom was combing it, she said that he should "undercomb" it, too. He guessed she was right, because it looked great! Maybe he'd just wear it down today. He'd see what his mom thought. He slid on his moccasins and hustled back down to the kitchen. Lilly caught sight of him and wondered what he must be thinking. Yes, he was wearing boy's clothes - and they were 'boy's clothes. He was too small for men's sizes - but they were all, well, maybe 'androgynous' was a bit of an understatement. They were kind of girlish. The flowered shirt was loose and swung about him and his slacks were a tad big, too and had pleats in the front, making them puff a little. The long hair and deck shoes moccasins didn't help, either. "What do you think?" He asked and spun on the ball of one foot. He'd never asked her that before. Obviously, he thought he looked nice. Well, what could it hurt? Kids dressed in sexually ambiguous clothing all the time, right. She kind of liked this look for him. "You're adorable, Paulie. Do you want me to put your hair in a bun for you?" "I don't know, mom. What do you think?" She smiled. There he was. Her pretty, little son. Right now, it didn't matter what he wore. He was going to look like her pretty, little daughter no matter what. Oh, how she hoped he'd stay in skirts and dresses like those kids she'd read about in magazines. Wouldn't it be wonderful to take him out shopping and to restaurants and, oh, just about anywhere and have them both dressed beautifully? Look at how he was acting right now. He'd be so much happier if he was always a petite, little lady. She knew it and she knew that deep down deep inside, he knew it too. "Do you want me to try the bun, then we can always take it out if you don't like it." He agreed and sat in a chair at the table while she grabbed a brush again and started grooming him and, again, she hoped he'd want to stay this way. She'd shared so much more time with him in the last few days than she'd ever shared with him before. Boys were great, but every mother wants at least one daughter to spoil. "Paulie," "Yeah, mom." "Could you do a little favor for me?" "Sure, mom. What do you need?" Lilly pulled a section of hair from both sides of his face and pulled them to the back of his head where she took a Bobbie-pin and held them together, in place. "Just for this week, while you're kind of my son and my daughter at the same time," she added a few more pins to hold everything tight. Then she sprayed a little hairspray on his head and ran her hands through his hair to separate all of the hair from around the back of his neck, leaving a section of hair hanging from each of his temples, and she created a ponytail below where she'd pinned the first sections. "Would you mind terribly calling me 'mommy?'" He laughed softly as she took the right side remaining section and took it to the left side of the pony tail and pinned it in the back. "Sure, mommy. That's fine with me." She did the same to the left side and pinned it, too. "Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot to me." Through the window, she noticed that Lori was pulling into the driveway. Lilly took all of the hair and wound it loosely to create the bun, then pinned it securely before adding a few more pins. Lori came through the door, "Hi! Are you all set to go? It's almost 7:..." Lilly pulled a few strands loose near his face to fame it and he was perfect. His hair swooped from his perfect part to the sides where it hung loose and softly before swooping back up to the large, loose bun at the back of his head. It was a far cry from the sloppy topknot he usually wore. It was an elegant woman's hairdo. Understated and beautiful. Lori stared in shocked awe. Lilly smiled at Lori. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." "Wait, what?" Paul felt his head, realizing that the bun was much further back, looser and bigger than usual. He got up and headed to the mirror in the hall, but Lori stopped him, held him at arms length and looked at his new look with watery eyes. Then, suddenly, she pulled him into a tight hug, closed her eyes and smiled. Everyday, he was more and more beautiful. More of a defenseless little girl and she loved it more each time and each time it caught her by surprise. "You're so beautiful," she whispered. "You did such a great job on his hair," she said to Lilly. When she let him go, she was shaking with emotion. "Are you going to school like this?" Paul looked at both of the women, confused. He turned away and walked to the mirror. It was so simple and elegant. Nothing like his grandmother and not a quick brush out or an attempt to imitate someone else. This was Paulie and he knew that he could go into any place in the world and the only thing that anyone would think would be, "She's a good looking woman." His stupid attempt at being androgynous with the Hawaiian shirt looked ugly and insulting to this beautiful face and hair. He didn't know why there were tears on his face, but there were. He turned to the women standing near him. "I... I can't." "Can't what, baby?" Lori asked as she rubbed his back. "I can't go to school like this. I want to, but I can't. I'm not that strong." "Come back to the table, sweetheart," Lilly nodded her understanding. "I'll take it out." "No, please," Lori said with quiet urgency, "keep it for a few minutes. You look like such... well. There's no other way to say it... such a grown up girl like that." That was definitely part of it for all of them. Finally, Lilly asked, "Paulie, how many absences do you have this year?" "Huh? Just one. Why?" "Well," she kept her words calm, but she really wanted to do this, "I don't have any showings today, so Linda can run the office this morning, so I was thinking... you know that sleeveless, yellow dress that Lori brought over Friday night?" "Yes." He'd stopped looking in the mirror and was looking at his mother, curious as to her point. "How about if we did this? You put on that dress, I'll put on something nice, too, Lori, you can run home and put on something, too, then we all play hooky this morning and go to the country club for a lovely, weekday breakfast. After that, you can come back here and change, then be in school by 10:15, or 10:30. That way, you guys can still be in school for a half a day and I can take two of my favorite girls out for a nice, sit down breakfast. Beautiful clothing, beautiful surroundings and delicious food. No one there will know you. What do you say?" Lori looked to Paul. For a moment, each waited for the other to commit to an answer, but suddenly they both burst into giggles. "Yes," "Sounds Great," "I'll call my mom and tell her." "One thing, though, Lori said. "I don't need to go home. I was hoping to take Paulie out for a cheap-movie-night date, tonight, so I brought a nice pair of slacks and a pretty blouse. That will due, won't it?" "Perfect," Lilly clapped her hands. "Go get your clothes and you two get changed in Paulie's room while I change in mine. Paulie, you may need a little help with the dress. If you need anything, a slip, or chemise, just come and get it from me. Lori, you do Paulie's makeup while I do mine and we'll head to the club." Wait. Did his mother just suggest that he and Lori get changed in the same room? Together!? Had she actually forgotten that he was a boy!? Oh, well. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. There were a few giggles from Paul's bedroom, but, for the most part, they behaved themselves. There was a knock on Lilly's door at one point. "Yes?" Lilly called, as she worked on her lips in her vanity mirror. "Mommy," Paul called through the door, "Lori says that I need a short, half slip for this dress. Do you have one I can borrow." She smiled. Who'd have ever thought that her son would ask her that question. "Come on in, sweetheart." She rose and went to her bureau and pulled open a drawer, searching. As Paul entered, he was shocked to find that his mother was dressed in slacks and heels, but on top, she was covered only by her bra. "Here you go, Paulie," she smiled as she turned, then realized that she was shocking her son, dressed as she was. She laughed, "I'm sorry, honey. I always do my makeup before I put on my blouse. It keeps me from making a mess. I hope I didn't shock you." He smiled and realized that he must have looked like an idiot. Himself in a bra and panties, acting as if his mother, who was wearing a lot more clothing the he was at the moment, was being, somehow, inappropriate. "Try it on, honey. Make sure it's short enough." Paul did as instructed and stepped into the short, silky ring of fabric. It was cream colored and had tiny flowers embroidered around the hips. It felt lovely as it slid around on his silky panties, and, although a little loose, the half slip would do fine for breakfast. "That should do fine, Paulie, and it looks very pretty on you. I'm sorry if I surprised you, half undressed like this. Most boys don't even think about their mothers even having breast and here I am, nearly exposing them." Paul shrugged and smiled, then turned to the door, before stopping with his hand on the nob. "Mommy?" "Yes, Love?" She returned to her makeup regime. "When Keith and I were babies, did you...?" He reconsidered asking the question. "Never mind." "No, honey. Go ahead. You can ask me anything." "Alright, but if it's weird, just say so, but I've been wondering lately... did you ever breast feed either of us?" She stopped powdering her face and turned to look at her son. "Well, yes, honey, of course. I breast fed both of you. Why?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Is guess that I never really thought about it before, but that must be an amazing thing to be able do, Huh?" She smiled as she thought about it. "It is, dear, it truly is. Sometimes you feel live a slave to biology while at other times it feels miraculous to have that connection to another person." Paul nodded and looked a bit wistful. Lilly looked at the pretty boy with his pretty hair, lacy padded bra, femininely embroidered half slip, little white heels with red toenails peeking out and perfectly manicured fingernails, who was lost in thought and she knew that the clothes and pampering, for better or for worse, were definitely entering his psyche. "Why do you ask, honey?" Again, he shrugged. "I never really thought about it before, but for some reason, I just started thinking about what it must be like." She smiled. It was definitely for the better. He turned and walked back to his room to change. The country club was, as one would expect, lovely. Paul had only been there once before for a reception following his father's funeral, but that was a long time ago. He didn't remember much about it. For Lori, this was her first visit. Typically, Lilly only used the country club as a place to network with affluent clients. She'd have a meeting over a meal or drinks, maybe twice, maybe four times in the course of a month. The yearly membership fee was very steep and just having a meal there was expensive. So, if she couldn't write it off as a business expense, she usually stayed away. But today was a special day: Breakfast with her daughter and her girlfriend. Paul sat in the back of the SUV, behind Lori, who was in the passenger seat. As they drove up the long, winding driveway and the country club came into view, he was very impressed with the opulence - even from the outside. Nothing too flamboyant - stucco, field stone and large, exposed beams - but it was all put together beautifully. Well proportioned and it looked perfect in with the wide, deep green fields in front of it and the dense New England woods closing in behind it. "Wow," he said from the back seat. "Are we dressed well enough to go in there?" Lilly was in dress slacks, smart, businesswoman jewelry and an elegant blouse, while Lori was in wonderfully tight, grey slacks with nice, three inch sling-back heels and a silky blouse that had what she referred to as 'cold shoulders', which just meant that her shoulders were exposed, elbow-length sleeves and it fit loosely so that it hung sexily from her ample breasts. As they got out of the car, Paul checked his look. The soft, cotton, summer dress was sleeveless and buttoned up the front, with eyelets all about the bodice and a moderately full skirt that ended several inches above his knees. It fit loosely, too, and it blew easily in the breeze, making him aware of its flimsy material every moment that he was outside on this sunny day with its gently, late spring breezes. The scoop neck showed off his grandmother's pendent beautifully and his mother had given him several, sparkling rings to wear as well. He'd seen himself in the mirror and he knew that no one could tell that he was a boy, but he was still feeling a little nervous and excited due to the possibility of discovery. More than that, though, he was thrilled by the sensations and how these clothes made him feel; cute, adorable, delicate. Like a pretty girl; a real, honest to goodness, pretty girl. It was absolutely wonderful. They entered the foyer, which had deep, rich woods and regal looking, green fabrics everywhere. "Good morning, Mrs Rooney," the hostess enthused. "So nice to see you, again. Oh, and are these two beauties you daughters?" "Oh, good morning, Rita," Lilly enthused in return. "Yes, these are my girls. This is Lori and this is Paulie." "Lori, it's lovely to meet you, and oh, Polly, what a lovely dress you're wearing. Oh, so adorable." Paul blushed. "Thank you, ma'am." The hostess laughed, "Oh, so polite! Well, you are very, very welcome, my dear. I have a lovely table in the alcove reserved for you, Mrs Rooney, just as you requested. Follow me, ladies, please." They wound their way through the restaurant with Lilly stopping occasionally to greet people and introduce them to 'her girls.' They sat in an alcove with a lovely view of a river in the distance. It all seemed so fancy and grown up and elegant - especially while wearing these pretty clothes. Fruit, eggs, mini muffins, cow cheeses, goat cheeses, omelets, bagels, lox, hollandaise sauce, bacon, kippers, granola... they had everything and it was all delicious. Eventually, Lori excused herself to use the ladies' room. "Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" Lilly asked. Paul nodded, smiled and wiped a little dab of yogurt fro