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Angie's Girl by Pamela ([email protected]) There are a lot of kids in my neighborhood. Lots of opportunities to play baseball or football with the guys, and sometimes I do play ball with them, though not too often lately. I'm not a very good ball player. I have a hard time swinging a bat forcefully and I can't catch very well. The worst part of it is when I have to throw the ball since no matter how hard I try to throw it like the other guys, they say I throw like a girl and they laugh at me. I know I'm not very strong and my arms, in particular, are kind of thin and girl like, and I just can't seem to figure out how to throw like a boy does. I have often wondered if my problems fitting in with the guys have to do with my not quite being a boy the way they are boys. I mean, yes, I have the boy equipment, but I also have a feeling inside me that maybe in some ways I am also a girl. If that were true it could explain why I can't throw like a boy. I throw like a girl because as far as that part of me is concerned, I am a girl. But this makes me wonder what other parts of me are girl parts. In fact, I wonder if my mind is that of a girl and not a boy. One thing I do know for sure is that I love watching girls be girls and I love to then fantasize that I can do the same as them. For instance, when I see the girls at recess playing hopscotch, I wish I could play with them. Or, a girl could come to school wearing a dress that I thought was pretty and then I'd think about how much I'd like to come to school in the same dress. If I see girls putting on makeup, like on a TV show, I find myself wishing I could do the same as them. On the other hand, I can watch a boy hit a home run in baseball, yet I feel no desire to do what he has done. I think what this means is that I probably would rather hang out with girls than with guys. About the time I first began realizing these things about myself, a girl named Angie moved into our neighborhood and started attending my school. She is an amazing, charismatic girl and within a year of her becoming part of our community, all the girls in our school vied to become her girlfriend. She became unbelievably popular and I got swept up in the same tidal wave of desire to be her girlfriend, even though I'm not even a girl. Angie is incredibly cool and she's very pretty, knows exactly how to dress in the coolest styles. She always knows the best music to listen to. After some time, Angie acquired a group of close girl friends that became known by the kids in our area as Angie's girls. They're like a little gang of girls with Angie as their leader. There's Francesca who's short and kind of tough, Angelica who's the most delicate and feminine of the girls and also kind of quiet, Brigitte who is thoughtful and Gail who's the most talkative. They're pretty nice-looking girls too. I think Angelica and Brigitte are very cute. But as nice and cool as these girls are, they all look up to Angie as being the star that they orbit around. I'd love to be part of their group and join the other girls in orbiting around Angie myself. She's so neat. I desperately want to be one of Angie's girls. I regularly see Angie and her girls hanging out together during recess at school or in the park on weekends. I especially love watching Angie - like the way she moves her hair out of her eyes while she's talking. But I like watching the other girls too. They all seem so confident to me. They know what they like and dislike and they know what they want to do. One time I saw them dressed up for a school function and I was blown out by how cool they looked in their fancy dresses, their high heeled shoes, the way their hair was done up and how pretty they smelled. I think that was the night that I had sort of an epiphany as to who I wanted my friends to be. No longer would I try to hang out with the guys and be made fun of or ignored. No. I would try and get to be a friend of Angie and her girlfriends. Become one of Angie's girls! My plan for becoming part of their group was to "run" into them on the weekends, I mean accidentally meet up with them and get involved in a conversation and then hope they'd like me to stay. I sort of know where to look for them on Saturday mornings, and on my third weekend of looking for them I ran into them. We were coming towards each other on a path in the main park in town and there was no way for them not to see me, or for me to run away from them if I lost my nerve. It was the perfect situation. As I came up to them, I suddenly got very nervous and was afraid to look at them, but then I forced my head to look up and saw that Angie was looking at me. I gave her a loony smile and nodded my head in recognition. Though she barely nodded her head to me it was enough for me to think that she had acknowledged my greeting. I blurted out before she completely passed me, "Hi Angie!" To my surprise Angie stopped and the other girls with her. Maybe it was the abrupt way I had said "hi", but the girls were laughing. The way they were looking at me I had the feeling that they must have stopped because they found something amusing about me. Angie looked at me with a slightly amused expression and didn't say anything. Feeling embarrassed I said, "I was wondering what you're doing." Angie said, "we're walking on the path." The girls laughed again and so did I. "I meant that I wondered where you're headed. Maybe I'm headed the same way." "So, let's see, " Angie said sarcastically, "we meet on the path from opposite directions and yet you might be headed our way?" Her girlfriends laughed again. "I guess what I meant was..." I desperately wanted to ask them if I could hang out with them and I blurted out, "I thought that maybe I could walk with you where you're going, since I'm not really going anywhere." This made the girls laugh again. The joke was obvious, and I quickly said, "I mean that I don't have a fixed destination. I'm just going for a walk." "Why aren't you playing baseball?" "I dunno. I just didn't feel like it today." The girls stared at me and for a reason I'll never really know Angie said, "OK, you can walk with us." "Oh, thank you, Angie!" I exclaimed. I was truly surprised that it would be so easy to get to hang out with them. "Don't get too excited," Angie said. "You can walk with us, but we're going to Gail's house to hang out at our clubhouse. That's private, just for us." I had had only a vague idea that Angie and her friends had a club house. Now that she had mentioned it, I recalled that I had heard it mentioned somewhere. "That's OK," I lied. The fact was that I'd do anything to be in their clubhouse with them. The girls started up walking and I went with them. We could walk two abreast along the path and I found myself beside Francesca. I was shy and didn't know what to say but she was in my biology lab and she asked me some questions about what we had done in class that week. I was known in our school as being one of the smart ones, so I was happy to help her, and she seemed to appreciate that I knew the answers to her questions. When we were silent again, I said, "I think Angie is so cool." "She's the greatest," Francesca said. "It must be so neat to get to hang out with her," I said. "We do have a lot of fun together. You sound like you're trying to say something." I realized that I must have sounded very obvious about wanting to join their group. "I guess I'd do anything if I could be like you girls and get to hang out with Angie." "You mean, be one of Angie's girls?" Francesca said and laughed. "Well not exactly one of her girls," I said sheepishly. "Hey Angie!" Francesca said loudly so all the girl could hear. "I don't think you should say anything to Angie!" I said partially under my breath, aghast at what it looked like Francesca was about to do. "Angie should hear what you said," Francesca said. The girls had stopped. "What did Blake say?" Angie said. "Tell her, Blake," Francesca said. "I didn't mean for you to hear," I said feeling terribly embarrassed. "He said," Francesca said, "that he'd do anything to be one of Angie's girls." "Well not exactly a girl girl," I said. Angie looked me over and I averted my eyes. "Be one of my girls, but not exactly one of my girls?" "I'm not a girl, so I guess I can't be one of your girls, but I'd love to hang out with you and the girls anyway." "Are you some kind of sissy?" Angie said. "What do you mean?" I said alarmed. "You want to be like one of my girls even though you're a guy. Normal guys don't hang out with the girls. They play ball and video games. I think a guy would have to be a sissy to want to hang out with the girls." "Why does it mean I'm a sissy?" "We do girls stuff together. To hang out with us, you'd have to be a boy who wants to do girl's stuff." "Even if it meant I'm a sissy, I'd love to hang out with you." "Let's face it," Gail said, "you want to be one of Angie's girls, plain and simple. You're a boy who wants to be a girl!" Angie resumed walking and the girls immediately joined her. I stood there for a second and then continued following them. I wasn't sure if I was welcome or not, but they hadn't told me I couldn't tag along. In short order we left the park and headed up the street to Gail's house. Up the driveway on the back of the garage there was a door and Angie opened it and entered, followed by the other girls. When I approached the door, Francesca came out to meet me shutting the door behind her. "This is our club house," Francesca said, "so good bye." "You mean I can't hang out with you?" "Only Angie's girls can hang out here with her," Francesca said. I felt terribly rejected and alone. Inside the club house was a world I wanted terribly. I wanted to be with Angie more than anything. My emotion caught up with me and I began to cry. I tried to hide it from Francesca, but it did no good. I was sobbing uncontrollably. Francesca stared at me a long while and said, "I've never seen anything like this. I've got to tell Angie." She left and went inside the club house. A few minutes later Francesca came out and said, "the problem isn't with you as a person. If you were a girl Angie might like you to be one of her girls. I like you too and so do the others. But the problem is that the last thing Angie wants is a boy hanging out in our clubhouse, or even a boy who does girlish things. You can understand that, can't you?" "I would try and be like any of the girls. I'm sure I could be like a girl so Angie wouldn't even think of me as a boy. All I want is a chance to be a girl like you and the other Angie girls. I'd do anything. Anything Angie asked of me. I'd do anything." My voice trailed off. I was sure that I had said all I had to say. There was nothing more to add. It was either Angie would give me a chance or not. I looked up hopefully at Francesca and she said, "Give me another minute!" and she went back inside. This time Angie came out herself and I was shocked to see her. She walked over to where I was and stared at me a full minute, and then walked around me staring at me from all angles. "You don't have any obvious boy traits that would prevent you from looking feminine. No muscles. And you have a delicate bone structure." She looked at me some more and said, "kneel down." Without hesitation I knelt in front of her and looked up at her. "You do have a little bit of grace to you, now get up." I stood up. "OK, I'll tell you what. You've piqued my curiosity enough that I do think it's amusing if you could try and become one of my girls." I burst into tears and said, "I can't thank you enough Angie. I swear I'll be a perfect one of your girls." "You haven't heard everything yet. Just pretending you're a girl in order to play with us is not good enough. For you to be one of my girls, you've got to really feel, act and look like a girl." "I know that I'd definitely feel like a girl if you would let me play with you. And I've always wanted to act like a girl, and I'll do whatever I have to look like a girl." "That's a lot easier said than done. Right now, you don't do anything like a girl. For example, you don't wear dresses and skirts." "I'd love to wear a dress if it would allow me to be one of your girls." "Girls wear more than dresses. We wear bras and panties and sometimes we put on panty hose and garter belts and stockings. Stuff like that!" "I'll wear a bra. And panties. I want to wear whatever clothes you're wearing." "Your parents will never let you do that and what about the kids at school if they find out, and they will." "My dad's away for a year. He's a marine." "Your mom won't let you." "I could make sure she doesn't find out." "Even if you dress like a girl there's other things. What about your hair and your nails? We all have nail polish and you don't." "My hair is already kind of long and I'll just grow it longer. I'll wear nail polish!" "You're unbelievably naive." "I can put on polish when I'm going to meet you and take it off before I get home." "Impossible." "I'll wear a light pink shade that maybe no would notice. Please Angie," I said, "I'll learn how to act like a girl and think like a girl. I'll do anything. I'll be such a big help to you all. Anything you tell me to do I'll do!" I sensed that Angie's resolve was cracking, and I felt that I had to persist. "As I said, the other kids at school might beat you up." "They won't if you tell everyone to leave me alone. One word from you and they'll be nice to me." Angie stared at me a long time and finally said, "this is too funny. OK, I'll let you be one of my girls, but just provisionally. If you don't make it and I have to kick you out, I want a promise from you that you won't complain. That you won't say anything at all. You'll just leave and never come back. Understand? Besides myself with joy and emotion I cried and sobbed and said, "thank you Angie. I promise that if you decide you don't want me as one of your girls then I'll go quietly. I promise. I do I do." "Remember, you have to show me that you won't bring even an ounce of boy energy into our meetings." "I'm sure I can be a girl!" "I don't want you to show up with a bunch of weirdo girl clothing that you found in a free box or in your mom's rag pile. If you don't look as good as any of my other girls, then I don't want you. Got it?" "Yes Angie. If I can't dress as well as any of your other girls I won't show up." "One last thing is that while you're trying to convince me that you deserve to be one of my girls, we're going to use you to do any and all stuff around the club house that we want you to. Let me tell you, it won't be glamorous." "I'm happy to do anything. No matter what! I can't believe how happy I am!" "It's going to be like a hazing. I'm warning you. No complaints or you'll be history. Got it?" "I so love you Angie! I want to be just like the other girls. Anything that would make you happy." Angie stared at me like I was crazy and then shook her head. It seemed to me that she must know that she has this effect on people. How else to explain how the other girls in her gang would do anything she asked of them? There was something about her that just made me want to be with her as much as I could. "OK, so run along," Angie said. "When you think you're ready to hang out with us, then give me a call and I'll tell you when." "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I said to Angie and watched as she returned to the club house. I had never been so happy in my life. I resolved to get myself some clothes and whatever else I'd need to fit in with the girls. *** As I walked home the reality of what Angie expected of me began to weigh me down. I was confident that I could behave like a girl and even feel like a girl. What seemed impossible was getting a nice wardrobe of girls clothes that fit me and would make me look as good as the other girls. I didn't know where to begin finding such clothes even though I obsessed over it that day and night and the next day and night. I couldn't come up with anything. The one thought I managed to get was to enlist the help of a girl who I could confide in. No one came to mind except possibly my older sister Janice, but even that seemed like a stretch. She was just a year and a half older than me and didn't really shop too much on her own. And besides, the reality of saying to my very own sister, "Hey Janice would you help me buy a bra," was much too frightening. Then is also my younger sister Sofie, but she is too young. I'm pretty sure she isn't wearing a bra yet though Janice certainly is. None of the girls I know in school would ever be appropriate to ask. There is my Aunt Ruth, but she doesn't live in our town and I really can't imagine that she'd not tell my mom. I could shop by myself, assuming I can figure out sizes, but I have no money and even if I did, I knew I didn't have the courage to go by myself to buy girls' clothing. I became despondent over my problem. I was so close, yet so far from Angie. A week went by and one day when I came home from school, I sought out my mom to relay a message to parents from the principal. I found her folding the laundry. I could see that there was some of her clothes in the basket from the dryer. "Mom," I said. "What honey?" she said as she continued to fold the clothes. "What are you doing mom?" I said. She laughed and said, "Sky diving." I laughed with her. My question was clearly silly. At that moment my mom picked up a bra to fold and suddenly inspired by the opportunity, I said, "What's that?" My mother looked at me a bit startled. "It's a bra. Don't you know that?" "Girls wear bras, don't they?" "Yes," my mom said warily. "Why?" "You must know why." She stared at me with a puzzled expression. "I mean why do they have to?" "Well they don't really. In the hippie era girls didn't always wear bras. Lots of girls even burnt their bras to symbolize that they had the freedom to choose what they wanted to do with their bodies." "Did you burn your bras?" "No," my mother said. "I was too..." she started to say and stopped and sort of glanced down at her chest. "Do girls like wearing bras?" "I suppose so. Certainly, young girls love them. It's a sign that they're growing up when they wear their first bra." "Some of the girls in my class wear bras." "I shouldn't be surprised. Girls mature earlier than boys. When some girls in a class get their first bra, then all the other girls want their first bra. None of the girls will want to be last to get a bra. That's for sure." My mother laughed. "What are you laughing about?" I asked. "I was remembering when I was your age. I got my first bra as a hand- me-down from your aunt Mabel. It was practically brand new, and I was laughing thinking about the joke your grandma used to say - that in between the time she bought the bra in town and she got it home, Mabel needed a bigger one." My mom laughed again and when she didn't see me laughing, she said, "You see she was growing so fast." I smiled and pretended to laugh. "Did grandma take you to buy bras?" "I suppose so. Sure, all mothers take their daughters shopping for bras." At the very next moment my mom and I started to speak simultaneously. I said : "Like you take me to buy clothes, but not bras" while my mother said: "What is your preoccupation with bras?" We both stopped suddenly, and my mother said, "What did you just say? You want me to take you bra shopping?" She looked horrified. "What?" I asked, not understanding what led my mother to say what she did, though the thought that she would take me to buy a bra caused a surge of adrenalin to run through me. "How long have you felt this way?" she asked. "I didn't, I mean I don't know how ... Forget it mom, you don't understand." "How can I forget it? You ask all these questions about bras. I'd think you were my daughter and not my son. Boys your age might snap the bra straps on girls, but they don't talk about them like that. This could have been a conversation with your sister." My mother looked at me strangely as if in a new light. She said, "Take you bra shopping? Imagine that. If only your father knew. The last thing I can do is bother him with this. Lord knows he's got enough on his hands with keeping world peace." I wanted to protest, to set my mother straight on what I was really trying to say. But I held back. I really needed a bra if I was to have any chance of becoming one of Angie's girls. While my mom seemed shocked, she also seemed to be thoughtful like maybe she wasn't against the idea of bra shopping for me. Imagining what that would be like sent a tidal wave of excitement through me. If being a girl for Angie seemed wonderful, being a girl for my mom seemed as wonderful if not more so. It was a feeling I had never had before. "Are you envious of girls because they wear bras and you don't?" The thought popped into my head that I was envious of Angie's girlfriends because they got to be with her, and since the reason I couldn't be like them was because they wore bras and I didn't, it seemed like my mother's instinct was right. Somewhat stiffly, I nodded my head slightly and said, "I guess I've sometimes envied girls" I said. "You're envious of Janice getting to wear bras, aren't you?" "No, mom," I said not very convincingly. If the truth be told I was somewhat envious that Janice got to be a girl and I didn't. I felt that even more about Sofie. She was still playing with Barbies and she still liked to play dress up in cute puffy dresses with her friends. I was always jealous of the dresses she wore to church or to family gatherings. "Some young boys do like to play with their mommy's clothes. Is that what this is about?" I was now beet red. I croaked out in a strange voice, "no I don't want to." "I mean I could see you wanting to wear my clothes, what with your father gone for so long. Is that it? You've become kind of fixated on me?" "Mom!" "You don't have to feel bad. I mean it's not hard to see why a young boy would fall in love with his mother, particularly if his dad is away for so long." My mom grew silent and I could see her thinking. A smile came across her face and she said, "you would be absolutely swimming inside my bra. And my panties as far as that goes." I tried hard to follow what my mom was saying and an image of me wearing my mom's bra came to mind. Like she said, I imagined it being very big on me. It would be big on Angie too I imagined. My mother stared at me and in a calm voice said, "Look honey. If you were truly not interested in wearing a bra, you'd have flipped out and run away and been spitting angry. Instead I see you weighing your options, trying to see where this conversation goes. Is that right?" I halfheartedly shook my head and my mom said, "Tell the truth. I know I've struck a nerve with you. I know my own son." My mom stood in front of me and looked down at me. "Look at me," she said, and she put her hands on my shoulders. I raised my head up and saw that her bosom was right at my eye level. She was wearing a yellow blouse with buttons down the front. It was a bit tight and I could see the buttons straining and a slight opening where I could see a bit of the white of her bra. All I needed was a bra like that and maybe a nice yellow blouse like my mom had and a skirt and then I could be one of Angie's girls. It seemed so attainable now. "But mom," I tried to say but was choked up with emotion. "No buts. You're embarrassed but it's too late for that. I don't believe in ignoring this subject because it makes you or I uncomfortable. Is that OK?" "OK, mom." "Good. I know that mommies can be quite overwhelming to young boys. You're just starting to notice girls; hormones are stirring in you and then there is mommy with all her femininity and female maturity. You probably don't have a clue how you could ever be anything other than helpless around your mommy. I know that my clothing can have an irresistible allure to you. Mommy's bra for example." I looked down at the ground. "Look at me," she said again, and I looked up into her face. Our eyes met. My vision of her blurred as my eyes filled with tears. "Have you ever peeked inside my lingerie drawer?" she asked me. I felt my heart jolt a bit. Yes, I had done that on a few occasions. I'd opened the drawer and just looked in. I had been amazed at the pretty scent that came from the drawer. Some kind of perfume was in there. I nodded my head slightly and said, "But I didn't touch anything." "Your dad and I never dreamed that you're this kind of boy. It's a shock, and definitely will be so to your father, but I can see clearly now how you are overwhelmed. Women are powerful, and especially our clothing." "I don't know mom," I said through some tears. I felt scared and reached out and clung to my mother, burying my face between her breasts. I felt her unbuttoning her blouse and she pulled it away and I felt her hand on the back of my head as she gently pushed me against her bra. "Yes. This is what a bra is, this is why we wear them. I can certainly understand how helpless you feel. Are you envious? Do you want to wear a bra so badly that you don't know what to do?" I burst fully into tears and my mom said, "Go ahead and have a good cry. When you collect yourself, we'll see what we can do about getting you your own bra." I felt like I was immersed in a giant sea and I didn't know which way to swim. Everything my mother had said was true and I could see that stonewalling her was not going to work. She did know me, even better than I knew myself. The only thing I knew that she didn't was that I worshiped Angie. I'd do anything for her. I'd love to have a bra so that I could be one of her girls, that was for sure. My mother picked up one of her bras and handed it to me. "You see to me it's just a bra. But I can only imagine the magical quality it has for you." I hung my head down and said in a tiny voice, "I guess you're right." "This weekend we'll go shopping. Sofie's been asking me for a trainer bra for some time now. We'll all go shopping and, who knows, maybe I could just sort of get you a bra while I'm getting Sofie one? How's that?" "Thank you, mom." My mom laughed again and shook her head. "Your poor father. If he only knew. And it's so funny the way he told you that you'll have to be the man of the family while he's away. Ironic, isn't it?" "I'm sorry mom." "Go run along and do your homework." Back in my room I lay down on my bed and cried. I cried because I felt so naked and embarrassed in front of my mother. I felt like I had let her down. I cried because I could now see that there was a path to being one of Angie's girls. This weekend would decide everything. *** As promised my mom drove Sophie and I to the mall to shop for our bras. The two of us sat in the back seat together, which was our custom since Janice usually sat up front with my mom. Sophie had a remarkably sweet disposition, which perhaps came from being the youngest child and always the center of attention. If she felt the slightest bit annoyed that her older brother was accompanying her on her first trip to buy a bra, she did not reveal it. On the drive over to the mall my mom explained to Sophie that her brother would also be getting a bra just like she was. The reasons were too complicated to explain, but my mom hoped that she would be a good sport. Sophie's only reaction was to ask me what kind of bra I wanted. She was determined to get a blue bra and when I said that I didn't know what color I wanted she said I'd probably find one that I'd fell in love with and that would be the color I wanted. Out of curiosity I asked her why she knew she wanted a blue bra and she said, "silly, blue is my favorite color. I do like pink too, but blue like the sky is my favorite. Jenny and Becky both got white bras cause their mom said that white goes with everything. Is that true mom?" Jenny and Becky were identical twins that were Sophie's best friends. From the front seat my mom said, "I wasn't paying attention. What's your question?" "Jenny and Becky's mom said that white bras go with everything." "She's right. Most bras are white for that reason." "Is it OK if I get a blue bra?" "Sure honey. We'll get you a blue one and a white one." "Thanks mom. Blake doesn't know what color he wants." "Probably white?" my mom asked. "Sure mom," I said. "He should get to pick a color also," Sophie said. "What other color do you want?" my mom said. A little shyly I said, "pink." My mom couldn't hear and said, "what color was that?" "He wants a pink bra, "Sophie said. I could see from the rear-view mirror that my mom rolled her eyeballs a little when Sophie said I wanted a pink bra. "Sure. Whatever. So, we'll get Sophie white and blue bras and we'll get Blake white and pink bras." "Are Jenny and Becky wearing bras to school?" my mom asked. "Yes! Sophie said. "Last week they came to school wearing bras. They were showing them off in gym class!" "I knew there was some reason why you've been badgering me to get you a bra!" Sophie laughed. "Don't you think I need one mom?" "I'm not so sure. You really haven't started to develop yet. I think any month now we might see a difference. I didn't have my first bra at your age. I was almost a year older!" "But don't I need a bra more than Blake?" Now I really saw my mother roll her eye balls. "Your brother is getting a bra for other reasons." "What other reasons?" Sophie said. "It's too hard to explain." I looked at Sophie and she must have sensed that this wasn't a good topic to talk about and she said, "after Jenny and Becky got bras, then Sally came in to school with her first bra." "Did she now?" my mom asked. "Did Jenny and Becky get the same bra?" The twins often dressed identically. "Yes, exactly the same." "What brand was it?" "I don't know mommy. It's a pretty bra. It's white but it has some pretty lace trim around it. If I see one, I'm sure I'll recognize it!" *** When we arrived in the bra section of the department store my mom took us to the racks of bras that were for young girls. She seemed to know her way around the bra department very well, probably because she had taken Janice here a year earlier. "So, any bras you see around here should be OK for both of you." Sophie was completely thrilled to be getting her first bra. She first sought out blue ones and then gravitated to looking at other colors as well. I watched as she curiously examined many different styles. She touched the bras gently and arranged them so she could get a good look at them. I began imitating her and found myself concentrating on what I was looking at and touching. There were many different styles running everywhere from very plain kind of athletic bras to much daintier bras made of filmy fabric. I liked the more feminine bras. My mom saw me engrossed with a pink bra and she said, "that's a very pretty bra, but maybe you ought to think about getting a bra with some padding in it." "Padding?" I said. "Yes, some bras have padding in them so that girls can feel like they're a little bit larger. Since you're not likely to develop, a padded bra would probably be a good idea." "What about me? Sophie said. "I don't think you need a padded bra, honey. You'll soon fill out whatever bra you get. All the girls in our family never have a problem with that." As we continued to look at the bras a saleswoman came over and asked my mom if we needed any help. My mom said, "actually, my daughter is getting her first bra and it would be helpful if you could measure her. I think she's a 30-band size, but it'll be good to check." The woman was more than happy to help, and after finding a tape measure she put it around Sofie's chest and said, "yes indeed, 30 is perfect for her. You're definitely looking in the right section here. All our starting bras are here." My mom smiled at the woman and said, "actually, could you measure my son too? The two of them fight light cats and dogs and I know he'll be jealous if he doesn't get measured as well." Luckily the saleswoman saw the humor in what my mom said, and she then put her tape measure around me and reported that I was a 32-band width. "If he were getting a bra," she laughed, "it would be a 32!" "Thanks," my mom said. "You're such a brave boy, going bra shopping with your mom and sister," the woman said. I blushed and nodded my head and said, "I know!" causing the woman to laugh. A short while later Sophie and I had chosen a couple of bras each and we headed to the fitting room. The saleswoman was busy with another customer and my mom had Sophie and I enter into a small partition with a mirror on the wall and a curtain drawn across the opening. "I'm not so sure they allow boys in here," she said out loud to the two of us, "but the truth is that Blake had better try on the bras for comfort before we invest in them." Sophie and I took off our tops and my mother helped us both on with our bras. First Sophie tried on her blue bra and I had on my pink bra. The band widths seem to be just fine. With my padded bra I had a small bust, at least in comparison to Sophie, though I could see when she had taken off her blouse that she did have small breast buds. Especially her nipples were wider than mine and a bit puffed out. If my having a bigger bust now bothered her, Sophie did not give any indication. The fact was that she was totally enchanted with her own bra and admired the way she looked in it as she could tell from the mirror. I tried to imitate whatever I saw Sophie doing. I stared at my pink bra from every angle. I put my arms at my side and turned sideways. "Are your bras comfortable?" my mom asked. "Oh, yes, mommy," Sophie said. "What about you Blake? Is this the kind of bra you want?" "I like it mom," I said. "It's comfortable." The fact was that since I had never worn a bra before I didn't know what comfort meant. If it meant that the bra was not tugging at me or pinching me then it surely was comfortable. "It is a pretty bra. Both of you look pretty in your bras." Sophie laughed slightly and then giggled. "I can't believe I finally get my own bra! I can't wait to show my friends All the girls will be so excited when I go to school on Monday." My mother looked at me and said, "and you will only wear your bra at home. Right?" The one thing I could never do was lie to my mother. There was something about me that abhorred lying and I'd rather tell the truth and take my punishment, then lie and have to live with the awful feeling I had lied. In this case, my face gave away the truth and my mother said, "you're planning to wear the bra to school?" "No, no, mom," I said, "but I would like to wear it if I play with Angie and her friends." "What in the world are you talking about?" my mother said. Sophie knew all about Angie and she said, "is she going to let you be one of her girls?" I nodded my head excitedly. "You're talking about that sweet girl Angie in the neighborhood?" my mom asked. "Yeah," I said. "What do you mean by her letting you be one of her girls?" "She has a group of girls that she plays with." "Angie is super cool," Sophie said, "and the girls that get to be one of her girls are really cool also." "They have a club house at Gail's house in her garage and Angie said that I could play with them if I could dress like the other girls." "What kind of weird thing is that?" my mother said with some agitation. "It's not Angie's fault!" I said, alarmed. "I asked her if I could play with her and she said that as much as she liked me, she couldn't have a boy playing with her and her girls. It would change everything. I was so disappointed that, I got kind of emotional and so she thought about it and decided that if I could manage to be like her other girls, then she'd let me be one of them." "So, this bra is to get you in Angie's club? To be one of her girls?" I nodded my head, "but I also need to get clothes so I can look like one of her girls." My mother sat down on the bench in the little changing area. "I still don't understand why you want to be one of Angie's girls. I mean I don't know why anyone would want to be one of Angie's girls. Do you understand what I'm saying? " "But mom," I said, "Angie's the greatest! Everything she does is so neat. If I could be one of her girls, I'd get to be with her all the time!" "What about your..." my mom said as her voice trailed off. "God, I wish your father were here." "I'm sorry mom," I said in a voice that signaled I was about to cry. "You are so sensitive Blake it's as if you were a girl!" She handed me a Kleenex and I blew my nose. "So, what if there was no Angie around here, would you still want to wear a bra and play with girls clothes?" It was a great question and I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know mom." Sophie had been following the conversation and she said, "I think Blake could be a very nice sister to Janice and me if he wanted to be. He's not like the other boys at school that are often mean to each other and tease the girls." "You're so sweet natured Sophie," my mom said. "Thank you, Sophie," I said. "I really like your bra!" "It's so pretty," Sophie said, "and yours is so nice too. Pink is my second favorite color." Wearily my mother said, "Blake, I'll get you the bras and some other things on one condition." "What mom?" "That I reserve the right to decide the rules, all the rules as to when you can wear your bra and other girls clothes. For example, if I decide to not let you wear the clothes to Angie's house then that will be that. No argument. Got it?" "Gail's house, " I said. My mother gave me a look and said, "Gail's house." "I promise you mom. Whatever you decide!" "I want you to promise that no matter what I decide you'll obey me without any drama." "I won't be dramatic. I promise mom." "OK, good. Now both of you try on your other bras. This trip is going to take more time than we thought." *** My mom picked out some panties for Sophie and me: blue for Sophie and pink for me and several pairs of panty hose that would likely fit both of us. At the counter to pay for the clothing. if the saleswoman was surprised to see that my mom was buying two bras with a 30 bandwidth and two with a 32, she didn't say anything. She had seen me leave the girls dressing room with my mom and Sophie. No doubt she would have a story to tell her husband that night. To buy the rest of my outfit my mom took us to a girls clothing shop in the mall that she particularly liked. Sophie was excited about helping me decide on a skirt and blouse to wear and as we walked through the mall, she told me what her favorite skirts were and what she thought would look good on me. I was very happy for the advice since I had no preconceived notion of what to get. Sophie suggested that I get a plaid, pleated skirt like the girls wear in parochial schools, and a pretty blouse in a solid color. My mom agreed with Sophie that that was the kind of choice she had in mind. I don't know if it was fatigue that finally took over my mom's judgement, but in the girl's dress shop she dropped all pretense of hiding from the sales staff her intention of buying me a skirt, blouse and shoes. She even said, "I need to find a skirt for him," and "do you have a pair of low heels that would fit him?" Perhaps the women who worked in the store thought I was being dressed for a costume party or to act in a play, since they did not offer any resistance to my mom's wishes. In fact, they made a point of recommending sizes that would fit me the best. My mom also bought Sophie a new skirt which make her very happy too, and it wasn't long before we returned home with our packages. "I think it was a successful trip," my mom said. "I'll be happy to not have to do that again any time soon." "I'm sorry mom," I said. She looked at me with her mouth clenched in an odd way, as if she was thinking carefully about something. Suddenly, she shook her head as if to wake herself up and said, "Let's see how you look Blake. Put on your outfit and we'll see what's up." I went to my bedroom and got dressed as best I could. The bra I figured out how to put on from what my mom showed me in the store. The blouse was like my shirts except the buttons were on the other side. The skirt had a zipper and a button at the top which I figured out. The pantyhose were another story and I had to call downstairs to my mom to come help me but them on. She came after a little while and taught me what to do. It wasn't easy to learn, particularly because she stressed that I had to be very careful not to cause a run or get them on twisted. At one point she said, "I had this same lesson with Janice and now with my son. Whoever would have thought that!" With her help I had the pantyhose on and then my shoes, so my outfit was complete. "Not too bad," my mom said and then she led me to a full-length mirror in her bedroom and I got to see what I looked like. I was most struck by how girlish I looked. If I hadn't known who I was looking at I would have thought it was a girl. The skirt fell to a perfect height at my knees and flared slightly. The blouse was a light pink shade and I could make out the faint outlines of my bra underneath. Thanks to the padding I had a slight bust, one that was very much appropriate to a girl my age. "You're a lovely little girl," my mother said. "I am?" I asked. "The clothes bring out a femininity in you that I never fully saw before, even though I always did wonder about how you'd ever survive as a man in a man's world." "What do you mean?" I said sounding worried. "Like you've never been good at baseball. The other kids were always right that you threw like a girl, and you always did. I wondered why they ever chose you to play and why they didn't make a lot more fun of you." Tears formed in my eyes and she said, "and right on cue you're crying. You're more sensitive than most of the girls I've known even though everyone tries to say that girls are the sensitive ones. OK, I'm sorry, please stop crying." My mother held me as I sobbed into her chest. When I regained control of my emotions she said, "The truth is you do look very pretty. Really as pretty as your sisters are." I smiled feebly and said, "Thank you mom." "Let's make some dinner, OK?" I went with my mom to the kitchen and helped her prepare the meal. When it was ready, Sophie and Janice came to the dining room at the same time. When Janice saw me, she said, "Oh my God Blake. Why are you dressed like a girl?" "Isn't he pretty?" Sophie said. "Mom took Blake and I shopping for bras today and then she got Blake a whole outfit so he could be one of Angie's girls." Janice sat down with a thud in her chair. "You're going to be one of Angie's girls? You're not even a girl!" "Angie told me that if I dress like a girl and if I act like a girl, she'll let me be one of her girls." My mom overheard the conversation and came in with the dinner and put it on the table. To Janice she said, "You know about Angie's girls?" "Duh, mom. Everyone knows about Angie's girls. It's like a really big deal to be one of her girls. Most girls would do anything to be an Angie's girl. I can't believe she's giving Blake a chance to be one." "You'd think she was a rock star or something," mom said. "She is sort of like a rock star," Janice said. Janice studied me closely and said, "Yeah I can see that you made a good choice in outfit. It's got the right amount of fashion without having too much. None of Angie's girls would ever upstage her, but they're never slobby." "Please!" my mom said, rolling her eyeballs. "From everything I hear these little things are important. Blake had better be very careful with the details or Angie will never let him be one of her girls." I grew increasingly worried listening to Janice and I said, "But what do you think I need to do? I'll die if she won't let me be one of her girls." "One obvious thing is make-up. You'll have to really work on getting the right make-up. And your hair and your nails and you better not have any blemishes." "Can you help me with the makeup and everything?" I said. "I'm kinda busy with homework," Janice said. "Please, please, pretty please," I said. "Come on Janice," Sophie chimed in, "why don't mom, you and I all help Blake with his makeup and hair and nails. It'll be so much fun!" Sophie did not exactly wear make-up at her age, but she was very interested in the subject and loved learning more about it herself. "OK, OK, OK," Janice said. "I'll help, but mom really needs to take the lead." My mom said, "If I've gone this far, I guess there is no pulling out. After all the dishes are done and Janice has finished her homework, we'll see what we can do with Blake's make-up." "I don't think he needs much," Janice said, "I mean he already looks like a girl. I'm not even wearing a skirt and he's got that little plaid pleated skirt. It's kind of adorable actually." "I so agree with you," Sophie said dramatically. "It's the perfect skirt for Blake." "I probably have one or two dresses that Blake could wear," Janice said, "I mean girly ones that are sort of just waiting to be handed down to Sophie." "You'd let me wear your dresses?" Blake said incredulously. "Dresses I wasn't going to wear. You can't wear my other clothes!" "Of course not," my mom said. "That's kind of you Janice, we'll go through your old dresses and see if any fit Blake." "That's neat," Sophie said. "Angie might also like him to sometimes wear a pretty dress." "We don't know if he's going to become one of her girls," Janice said. "I think Angie's going to love him," Sophie said. "I hope you're right," I said. "If I do get to be one of her girls, I don't know what kind of dresses or skirts she'll let me wear. I guess I could show her the dresses and if she likes them then maybe I could wear them." "You're getting way ahead of yourself," my mom reprimanded. "Remember your promise. I haven't even decided if I'll let you leave the house looking like a girl. And it really troubles me that you'd let Angie decide all these things." "I'm sorry mom," I said. "I realize you're excited but understand that it's a very big adjustment for me. Not only for you to pretend to be a girl, but to pretend to be a girl because Angie wants you to." There was a long silence as everyone ate their dinner. Blake sat up erect as he ate and made sure to be as neat as possible. No dropping food crumbs on his pretty new blouse. "I think it's nice that we can all be girls here," Sophie said breaking the silence. "Instead of just three of us, we can have four and its even cozier!" Janice said, "So Blake is my sister now. Go figure." *** After the dishes were cleaned up and Janice had finished her homework, Sophie, Janice and my mom helped me with my make-up. They showed me all the basic information I needed to know. When we were done, Janice took me to her room to show me the dresses she would give me. One of them was a pretty pink dress with wide skirt and lace details on the bodice and skirt. "Try it on. If it fits you can keep it. I never really liked this one. It's too frou frou for me." I held the dress in my arms and looked at it closely. "You probably will want to wear a crinoline with it." Janice said. "A crinoline?" "To puff it out. It's the kind of dress that you want to puff out the skirt. Some girls really like that feminine style, but I'm not too wild about it. I'm sure Sophie loves that." Janice stared at me and said, "you look lost." She went to a drawer and took out a pink frilly sort of stiff looking thing and said it was the crinoline that she wore with the dress. "Try on the dress and then you'll understand." She handed the crinoline to me. As I held the dress and crinoline, I felt my heart racing and then I saw what it must truly be like to be to a girl. A girl viewed the dress as an extension of her being a girl. It was clothes like this that girls wore. That was inseparable from being a girl. That was something that I'd have to concentrate on when I went to play with Angie. I'd have to expect to always wear dresses or skirts just like the other girls. That was probably what Angie was driving at when she was talking to me. She knew that that would be very hard for me to do. Luckily, I've had this insight now, so I won't mess things up later. I went to my room and put on the dress and figured out the crinoline. I had to ask Janice to zip me up and she showed me a trick in how I could do it myself as I put the dress on over my head. It would be an understatement to say that I loved the dress and I loved the way I felt in it. The skirt my mom had bought me was nice too, but this was special. There is definitely something magical about wearing a dress that brought out your strongest girl feelings. I felt my face softening and my heart slowing down and otherwise feeling at ease. "We've got to show mom and Sophie," Janice said. "You're so frigging pretty in that dress it's kind of weird." "You think so? It makes me feel very pretty. Do you think my feeling pretty is the same as the way a girl might feel pretty?" Janice looked at me and said, "I suppose so. Sure. I guess I did feel pretty in that dress too, and it was probably the same way you feel now." We went downstairs and joined my mom and Sophie in the living room. "Oh, my goodness," Sophie exclaimed, "you're sooo pretty! Isn't he mom?" "Yes, I suppose so," my mom said. "He's as pretty as any girl!" Janice said. "I agree," Sophie said. My mom had me turn around a few times. "It's amazing Blake. You do seem like a girl. I don't know why I never really noticed it before." I sat down on the sofa between Sophie and my mom and Janice sat down on the other side of Sophie. "It's so neat you get to wear a crinoline," Sophie said. My skirt was bunched up around me because of the crinoline and Sophie was smoothing the dress with her hand. "I think Angie is going to love having you as one of her girls," Janice said. "She'd be crazy not to," Sophie said. "Mom?" I said. "What?" she said having a good idea what I was about to say. "I think I'm ready to try and become one of Angie's girls. Would you let me go to the clubhouse in my new outfit?" My mom looked at me. It was one of the situations in a parent's life when the thought of saying no seemed like a huge mountain to climb. Inflicting pain on one's kids who are so eager for something is always hard to do, and sometimes it is very very hard to do. Wearily she said, "OK, I'll let you go, but I'm going to drive you there and drive you back. You're not walking through the neighborhood as a girl. Got it?" "Oh, thank you mom!" I exclaimed in a state of bliss. I would call Angie at the number she gave me and tell her I was ready. It was a dream come true. *** At 2AM, Blake's mom awoke to receive her weekly planned skype call from Blake's Dad. "Hi, honey," she said sleepily. "Man, you look so good!" her husband said. They chatted awhile and Blake's mom filled him in on a lot of the news in their family and neighborhood. "What's new with Blake?" his dad said. "Does he have a girl friend?" He said it half-jokingly, half seriously. "Well to tell you the truth," Blake's mom said, "he is sort of trying to see a girl." "Fantastic! Who's that?" "A girl named Angie who lives in the neighborhood. He hasn't exactly asked her out yet, but he's been chatting her up and I think he might call her tomorrow." "That's my boy! Is she pretty?" "From everything I hear, she's one of the prettiest girls around here." "Tell him to remember everything so he can give me the low-down next time I speak to him." "Sure, I'll tell him to tell you everything." *** The next day I called Angie up. At first, she acted surprised to hear from me and I even had the feeling that she didn't remember who I was. After I explained, she said, "I never thought you'd actually go through with it." "Angie I really want to be one of your girls. My mom bought me a pretty outfit, it's a pleated skirt and a blouse and a bra with some padding." "You're mother?" "She took me shopping." "You're actual mother?" "She sort of found out that I wanted to get a bra. And then I told her about how I wanted to be one of your girls and she then got me a whole outfit." "She's helped you?" "I really really want to be one of your girls if you'll let me, and she doesn't want to stop me from something I really want." "You have a remarkable mother." "Thank you. So, can I come to the club house?" "A promise is a promise. You come by on Saturday at 1 O'clock. We'll be expecting you. *** Saturday morning when I woke up, I was more excited than I had ever been in my life. Somehow, someway I was going to make sure that Angie would accept me as one of her girls. After breakfast I washed up extra careful. Then I put on my bra and panty and then my pantyhose. It was hard getting them on right, and I had to take them off a couple of times and put them back on. Finally, I was sure that I had done it correctly. I put on my blouse and skirt and combed my hair and sat in front of the mirror and put on my makeup just the way that my mom and sisters had shown me how to do it. The time passed slowly until it was finally 12:45 and my mom drove me the half mile or so to Gail's house. We pulled up there at exactly 1 O'clock. "Call me when you want me to get you. I'm worried about you. I hope they don't hurt your feelings or make fun of you. You know that your sisters and I will always love you." "Don't worry mom. Angie and her girls are very nice. It's not like them to be mean. Even if they say I can't be one of her girls, they'll be as nice to me as they can." "That's good to hear. Anyway, good luck." *** I waited until she drove off then I summoned my courage and walked to the door to the clubhouse and knocked. I could hear voices inside while I waited until finally Francesca came out and greeted me. I could see surprise in her face, and she said, "Come in, we've been expecting you." I follower her inside which was really a fairly large room that was well furnished with a long sofa facing a plush love seat. Angie sat by herself on the love seat and Angelica, Brigitte and Gail were seated on the sofa. Francesca motioned for me to stand in the middle between Angie and the other girls. "Angie, here's Blake," Francesca said and sat down on the sofa. I faced Angie and trembled slightly in the silence as she seemed to regard me closely. "You've come a long way Blake. I like your skirt and blouse, they become you." "Thank you, Angie," I said. "One rule you'll have to obey until and if we decide you can be one of my girls, is that you only speak to answer our questions." "I'm sor..." "Good, it looks like you're a quick learner." I remained silent telling myself to be very careful about not talking. "Take off your skirt and blouse," Angie said. It took me a second to realize what she was asking, but then I began unbuttoning the blouse and very carefully took it off to reveal my bra. "Your bra is padded?" Gail asked. I nodded my head. "You can speak when spoken to," Angie said. "Yes, Gail. My mom thought that it was best for me." "She did well. It looks like it was made for you," Angelica said. I smiled and unhooked the skirt and unzipped it and stepped out of it, so I was now in my bra, panties and pantyhose. "Turn around slowly," Angie said. I did as she said. I felt shy in front of the girls wearing just my underwear. "Even though he's a guy you'd never know it seeing him like that. He looks like a girl. Am I crazy?" Angie said. "You're so right," Bridgett said. "I mean look at his skinny little girl arms and his legs are shapely." "There is a little bulge there. It's not too much. I suppose he's really underdeveloped," Angelica said. "Pull down your pantyhose and panty so we can see what you've got there." Angie said. I did as she said, exposing my little member to her and the other girls. Angie looked at it and said, "Turn around so the girls can see." I did as she said and Francesca said, "It is really small, but just enough to push out his panties a little." "It's a problem," Angie said. "Those things can get large, quite large." She got up and walked over to the girls and they formed a huddle speaking in low voices. When they were done Angie walked back to where she had been. "I'm sorry to say Blake, but you'll have to put on your skirt and top and go. I don't think you're going to fit in." Her words hit me like a sledgehammer into my solar plexus. I burst into tears and my mind raced to find some words to say. But I remembered that I had promised Angie that I would not protest if she rejected me, and so I turned away from her and pulled up my panty and pantyhose and fumbled around putting on my skirt and blouse. I was shaking so violently from the pain I was feeling that I could barely get the buttons buttoned. When I was somewhat dressed, I walked toward the door and then practically ran. I knew that I would be wailing any second. The moment I got to the door and was about to leave Angie yelled out "STOP!" I froze in place and hunched over looking at the ground. "Come back here!" I slowly turned and walked back not knowing what she wanted. I didn't think that I had left anything behind. When I stood in front of her again, she said, "Look at me." I looked up at her. She was smiling. It seemed so cruel and out of character for her. "That was a test Blake. You had promised that you'd not complain if I rejected you and I had to find out if you really meant it. And you did. And I am very pleased. We are all very pleased. You did beautifully. Not a word of complaint. You obeyed me." The reality of what she was telling me sank in and my tears stopped. "We've decided that you are enough of a girl to at least be on probation as one of my girls." My jaw dropped and my eyes widened in excitement. "You can say something now," Angie said. I screamed and shook like I was one of those girls at a Beatles concert in the 60's. "Calm down, calm down," Angie said. "I can't thank you enough Angie, I'll do everything I can to be a girl that you can be proud of. I'll do anything for you. Anything." "For now, I want you to sit on the love seat next to me." Angie sat down and patted the seat next to her. I sat down as gracefully as I could. Janice and Sophie had coached me on how a girl sits by keeping her legs together and smoothing her skirt under her. I had practiced the motion a hundred times and did it now with the utmost care. Gail giggled and said, "Angie, he sits down like such a girl." "I am a girl," I said, "I'm one of Angie's girls, well almost!" Angie said, "if you're going to be one of my girls, the first thing is that you'll have to wear something more substantial than panties, so we never have to see that thing of yours." The thought crossed my mind that if I could I'd take a magic pill and make my penis fall off. "I want you to buy yourself a nice panty girdle or a girdle or something like that. They come in different levels of control. Get at least medium or even firm control and that'll stop the bulge. I'll leave it to you to decide which one to buy. Maybe your mom could help you since she probably wears panty girdles, most mom's do." "OK Angie. I'll get a pretty one for sure!" "I think you should definitely also get a girdle that you wear with stockings. It could be open bottom or a panty girdle. One with garters. That way you won't have to wear pantyhose," Angie said. "I will," I said. Angie looked me over as I sat next to her. She leaned in and sniffed me. "You've got to wear a hint of perfume. We all do. Just a little, you don't want to go overboard. But just a little scent is nice. And of course, you'll need to get your hair done up. Your nails look nice. Did your mom help you?" "My sister Janice did them." "Your whole family is in the act," Angie said. I nodded my head up and down. "Janice gave me a couple of her old dresses. They're like new. One is so pretty. It's pink and the kind that I'd wear to a party maybe. And it has a pink crinoline that goes with it. That you wear under the skirt so it poufs out." "We'd all love to see you in that dress for sure," Angie said. "We'll think of an occasion that will give us an excuse for you to wear it." I answered many more questions from Angie and the other girls until finally Angie said, "Now I want you to do some chores for us. Girls that are on probation have to do some cleaning to show that they care about us and the clubhouse." "We all did that," Francesca said. "I'm happy to help you anyway I can," I said. "Good, then in the alcove back over there," Angie said, pointing to the far corner of the room, you'll find a small kitchen. There are some dirty dishes that you should clean and dry. When you're done with that, you can clean the kitchen including the stove and oven and the refrigerator. Make it shine." "I'm happy to," I said standing up. "You'll see some aprons hanging on a hook. Wear one so you don't get your pretty new clothes dirty. Let us know when you're done," Angie said. I walked to the alcove that she had pointed to and just like she said, there were many dishes that needed to be washed and the appliances had to be cleaned. Though the work was not glamorous, I felt elated to be contributing to Angie's club house. I was almost a part of the group. Soon I would be as much one of Angie's girls as the others. While I worked, I could hear the sound of the other girls talking and after about half an hour Gail appeared and said, "The kitchen is starting to look pretty good. Keep up the good work. When you're done Angie wants to inspect the kitchen." I nodded my head and continued with my job. About fifteen minutes later I was done, and I hung up the apron and straightened out my clothes and walked to where Angie was. I stood silently while the girls talked. After a minute or two Angie said, "So you're done?" "Yes Angie, I think it's clean now." Angie got up and followed by the other girls she walked to the kitchen area to see what I had done. I tagged along behind them. I watched as Angie checked a lot of things to make sure they were done well. But I had truly done a very nice job since I didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize my chance of being one of Angie's girls. "Very nice, you've done a very nice job. Hasn't she girls?" While the other girls seconded Angie's opinion, I couldn't help but notice that for the very first time Angie addressed me as a "she." I didn't know if it was a slip of the tongue or not, or whether it had any significance. *** When my mom picked me up at Angie's house, Sofia and Janice were in the car. They immediately bombarded me with questions as to what the clubhouse was like and was I now one of Angie's girls. "I'm pretty sure that Angie and the other girls really like me. I'm on probation for a month and then I'll be officially one of Angie's girls!" "That's so exciting," Sophie said. "I'm glad you're so excited, Blake," his mom said, "but really don't you feel like you have worth independent as to whether Angie wants to make you one of her girls or not?" "Mom, she's Angie! Being one of her girls is like the highest honor I can get." "Blake's right mom," Janice said. "All the girls in Blake's grade dream about becoming one of Angie's girls. There's nothing better!" "Blake is so lucky!" Sophie said. Blake's mom shook her head in frustration. Obviously, children could not see the wisdom of what she was talking about. Angie was like some sort of cult leader. Hopefully, it was just harmless and would blow over eventually. Of course, as far as her family was concerned, it wasn't entirely harmless. She had essentially lost a son and acquired a third daughter, though if the truth were told, Blake had never been very much of a son. Blake's father had been endlessly frustrated with his inability to throw a ball like boys do. "Tell us about the clubhouse," Janice said. "There's a love seat facing a sofa. Angie sits on the love seat and when she wants to say something special to one of her girls, she invites her to sit with her, while the other girls are on the sofa. So, after I arrived, she checked out my blouse and skirt and decided they were nice. Then she checked out my underwear. She wanted to see what bra I was wearing and what my panties and pantyhose looked like." "Oh, lord," Blake's mom said from the front seat. "That reminds me mom," Blake said. "Angie wants me to wear panty girdles or regular girdles with stockings instead of my panties and pantyhose. Yeah, she said the girdles should be medium or firm control." "Why in the world?" his mom said. "She thinks it will hide..." "I get it, I get it," his mom said intuiting what Angie's goal was. She obviously didn't want him to have a bulge where girls do not have one. "Can I get a panty girdle?" "In due course. Give me some time to absorb the concept of my son begging me for a panty girdle." "So, then what happened?" Janice said. "Well, they tested how honest I am! Angie had made me promise before I came that if the girls decided not to let me be one of her girls, then I would go quietly without complaining. Well, Angie said to me that they decided to not let me in the club and even though that made me cry and get very upset, I quietly left without arguing. Well, no sooner had I gotten outside the door, then Angie called for me to come back in. She had been testing me! Since I was honest, I passed the test. So, then she said I could be one of her girls as long as I made it through my probation!" "Unbelievable," Janice said. "Angie is so cool," Sophie said. If Blake's mom's eyeballs rolled around anymore, they were likely to unscrew from her head. What kind of kid was this Angie she wondered? "What do you have to do on probation?" Janice asked. "Today, they had me cleaning their kitchen. They have a kitchen in part of the club house, and I washed dishes and otherwise did a whole bunch of cleaning." "All right, I've heard enough," Blake's mom said. "You'll be cleaning our kitchen tonight and every night. If you think you can clean up Angie's kitchen and not ours, forget about it!" "I'm sorry mom," Blake said. "You're right. I'll clean our kitchen. That's one of the things about Angie's girls. They're responsible and help out. We're not lazy!" "And I've heard that Angie's girls always do their homework and study hard for their tests!" Sophie said. "That's true," Blake said. "So, as one of Angie's girls you're going to take school more seriously?" his mom said. "Oh, definitely, mom. Angie wants all her girls to do well in school. That way, we'll always be available to do fun stuff. You see, if we get bad grades, we're likely to get into conflict with our parents and then they won't let us out to do things." "What sort of things do Angie and her girls do?" Blake's mom asked. "I know they ice skate, roller blade, go to movies, shop at the mall, things like that," Blake said. "Do they do things with boys?" Blake's mom asked. "I'm not sure," Blake said. "What if they do?" "Is there something wrong with that?" Blake said. "Say you all dance together. Will you be dancing with a boy?" Blake's mom said with some alarm in her voice. Blake had not thought about this at all. The one thing for sure was that if Angie wanted her girls to be dancing with the boys, then he would definitely want to be dancing no different than any of the other girls. "I'm going to be one of Angie's girls, so I guess I'll be doing whatever she wants her girls to do. If we're all dancing with boys, I'd want to dance with the boys too." "You don't find that ridiculous?" "What mom is saying, Blake," Janice said, "is that boys usually don't dance with boys." "But Blake is now a girl, isn't he?" Sophie said. "She's right, mom," Janice said. "Blake might have been a boy, but he's our sister now. He's one of Angie's girls and so he is a girl." Blake's mom felt a headache coming on. How in the world did she get into this mess in the first place? Too bad Blake's dad isn't here. Anyway, this is what he gets for re-enlisting and being away for another year. "Whatever," Blake's mom said. "Mom, can we eat in the diner?" Sophie said. "Yeah, mom, we love the diner!" Janice said. "Your brother is with us dressed as one of Angie's girls," Mom said, "and the deal is that he's not to be seen in public." "Mom, no one is going to know that Blake is a boy. He looks as much like a girl as Sophie and I do," Janice said. "Please, please, pleasey please," Sophie said. "All right, all right. Anything for peace and quiet." They pull into the diner parking lot and get out of the car. Mom watches her three children run to enter the diner and get a booth. It was true, no one would see anything different than three girls. Blake was as feminine in his movements as his sisters. It was as if Blake had gone from awkward boy to confidant and graceful girl. Something was now aligned that hadn't been before. *** The next day in the evening Blake's mom got a call from the guidance counselor, Mrs. Blakely, at his school. "I am concerned about what many of the children seem to be talking about today and thought that you need a heads up." "What could that be?" "Many of the kids are saying that Blake has become one of Angie's girls. I mean he is a boy and they're calling him a girl. The rumor is so widespread that I'm afraid that this could cause a poor outcome for Blake. You know he could be ostracized and teased mercilessly." "To tell you the truth, Blake has been going through some gender identity issues of late and he has become friends with Angie and her girls." "So, the rumors are true?" "I'm afraid so." "Where do we go from here?" Mrs. Blakely said. "Let me say that all this mess revolves around Angie. She's the one that the kids seem to be infatuated with and somehow Blake got dragged into her orbit. I think you need to talk to her. Maybe she has a solution to the problem." "Good idea. I'll set up a meeting with her and see if we can nip this in the bud." *** After meeting with Angie later that day, Mrs. Blakely called Blake's mom and said, "I've spoken with Angie. She says that there are, what she calls her paparazzi, that keep track of all that she does. They saw Blake enter the clubhouse dressed in a skirt and that is the origin of the rumors. However, she has taken the step of forbidding anyone from bullying, teasing or otherwise making fun of Blake. So right now, Blake is in a protective bubble at school. No one dares to cross Angie for fear of retribution from the coolest kids in school." "What a world we live in," Blake's mom said. "But I guess I have to be thankful that Angie is able to protect my son." "Yes, we are lucky that a crisis is avoided. In fact, Angie made it clear to me that Blake is welcome to come out of the closet, so to speak. She encourages him to dress like one of her girls at school and not just after school. No one will treat him poorly if he does so. So, I expect your son will be asking you tonight if he can go to school tomorrow dressed as one of Angie's girls." "Oh, boy. I need to go knock my head against the wall," Blake's mom said and she could hear Mrs. Blakely laughing. *** Sure enough, that night during dinner, Blake asked his mom if he could go to school dressed as a girl. "If I did, I could join with the rest of Angie's girls and have lunch with Angie. Also, I could hang out with her and the girls at recess." "Why can't you hang out with them now?" "Because she only hangs out with girls, mom. It'd be crazy for a boy to be sitting with her." "Even when you put on your skirt and blouse, Blake, you're still actually a boy underneath." "I guess so, but Angie doesn't care about that. She just wants her girls to all be dressed pretty if they're going to be with her." "Look, Blake, you're driving me crazy with all this. I'm tempted to just say that you are now officially a girl. No more being a boy or a brother to Sophie and Janice. No more being a son to me and your father. You should just be a girl. A girl all the time. No more boy. I'll tell the school that you have switched from boy to girl, in other words, that you've my permission. Is this what you want?" "Yes, mom," Blake said with no hesitation. "Angie will be pleased, I'm sure." "But what about you?" "If Angie's pleased than so am I!" "Of course, you're going to have to deal with your dad at some point. When he returns, he might not let you be a girl any more. If you skype with him and he sees that you're a girl, he's going to be very upset with you." "Does dad love Sophie and Janice?" "Yes, of course," Blake's mom said. "Then I think he'll love me as a daughter also. Why shouldn't he?" "Probably because you've been his son, and he likes having a son. And, you're his only son." "Wouldn't it be unfair that only Sophie and Janice can be girls for dad, and I can't?" "Perhaps it's not fair, but you need to take the issue up with God. He made you a boy." "I think dad will love me whether I'm a boy or a girl." "I hope so, Blake." What she didn't say is that she hoped her husband would still love her after he found out that she let Blake become a girl. *** Before the next meeting of Angie's girls, Blake asked his mom for some money to get his girdles. She sent Janice and Sophie with Blake to the mall to do the shopping. It was too painful for her to directly supervise buying a panty girdle for Blake because Angie wanted him to wear one. The less she knew the better, at this point. Janice was thrilled to be put in charge of the girdle shopping. It made her feel very adult. At a specialty lingerie store, Janice carefully examined the various girdles for sale and guided Blake into making some astute choices. Luckily for Blake, there was a nice selection of prettier girdles, ones that were more attractive than the bland beige foundation garments that are readily available. The three sisters took the selected girdles into the dressing room and Janice and Sophie watched as Blake put on each one offering him comments as to how pretty the girdle was and how well it fit. "Angie doesn't want a bulge down there," Blake said, "so tell me if you can see one." Among the different styles of girdles, the open bottom girdles definitely removed any bulge. For the panty girdles, the ones with firm control did a pretty good job of disguising the bulge. There was sufficient money to buy two open-bottom girdles and two panty girdles, plus several pair of stockings. "That was so much fun," Sophie said. "I like that you're my sister, Blake. And I like that you are so pretty and that you like pretty clothes." "I agree," Janice said. "It's so nice that now we're all girls." *** Angie proved to be true to her word and Blake was able to attend school as a girl without so much as a peep from any of the students. In short order, all the girls welcomed him as being one of their own. Taking a cue from Angie, Blake was now referred to as a "she" and no longer a "he." His teachers adjusted to the change and it was slowly forgotten that Blake had ever been a boy. It was only in the girl's locker room getting dressed for gym class that Blake's penis was sometimes spotted by the girls. It too was eventually relegated to being a meaningless vestige of a former life. Blake's mom tried to be pro-active concerning the hormonal changes to Blake that were sure to come in the next year or two. She took him to the pediatrician and then a psychologist to have them proscribe a treatment that would allow Blake to develop more in the direction of a girl than a boy as he entered puberty. Estrogen pills were prescribed and ended up having the desired effect. Blake developed some not insignificant breasts and a feminine aura. The doctor had determined that Blake had an unusually low testosterone level which helped to explain his feminine tendencies. Blake's natural gravitation to more girl-like mannerisms began to show up in the occasional weekend family skyping with his dad. At first his dad had privately asked his mom if she saw anything unusual in Blake. She denied that as long as possible, until finally she decided that Blake had become so feminine, it was pointless to try and pull the wool over his dad's eyes any longer. On a fateful weekend a couple of months before dad was to return, Blake's mom confessed through sobbing tears to her husband what had happened to Blake. "Don't be mad at me. I didn't know what to do. I desperately wanted you here to help me figure this out. I ended up doing what would make Blake happiest. And despite everything, he is terribly happy now. I've never seen him so happy. So, I hope and pray you're not mad at me. If you are, I can understand. If you want to divorce me, I'll understand..." Further conversation had to pause while she collected herself. Finally, Blake's dad said, "Do you know that my best buddy in our squad, Glenda, who also happens to be our sergeant, is trans-gendered?" "Really?" "Yes, really. Glenda once was a guy but she's a girl now and a damn good sergeant. And besides her, there are a few other transgendered in our platoon." "I had no idea." "So, if Blake wants to be a girl, or actually is a girl, I understand." Blakes mom started weeping all over again because of the huge weight lifted off her shoulders. "What hurts most is that you think that I would scold you or divorce you for this. I left you with three kids because I trust you a hundred percent to do what's right." "I'm so sorry." "Anyway, I can understand your emotions. So, put on Blake and let me hear firsthand about his new life as a girl." Blake's mom called Blake to the computer who excitedly began talking to his dad. She then left the room and the last thing she heard was Blake saying, "Dad, I've become one of Angie's girls!" The End