Creating Gigi

By: Mardee Louise Prynne

 

The athletic field occupied a full and rather deep block. A large concrete grandstand overlooked the quarter mile cinder track; a chute to the left offered a straightaway for the 220. A baseball diamond was set up on the center of the oval track; very strange foul lines. Soccer goals appeared in the fall.

Adjacent to the chute was a collection of concrete tennis courts and a row of handball courts. The handball courts were used for a local hybrid of tennis and squash. The real attraction was the many social opportunities the courts offered. Girls preened for boys. Boys acted silly to impress the girls. Dates were made, secrets revealed and not a little petting went on between the back of the grandstand and the train trestle a few yards away.

There were protocols to be followed. Few with social pretensions would appear at the courts on Sunday before noon. To be there early might mean you didn’t have a date the Saturday night before.

I had no pretensions so I was often there early on Sunday. I was good at handball, a game we actually played according to the rules. The Sunday morning quiet offered me an opportunity to practice serves and "killer" shots with no competition for the court.

You must understand that I was socially awkward. I aspired to be "cultured." My blue collar family had given me up as weird and, despite my athletic prowess, looked at me as a sort of faggot. The girls I developed crushes on were miles above me. The girls I attracted never seemed attractive to me. Not that they weren’t good looking; it was just that they were part of the world I wanted to escape. The girls of my own social standing liked me but thought my interests strange. At times they treated me as one of the girls. This left me out of the dating scene.

 

It was about 7:30 AM on a spring Sunday. A girl’s bike was in the bike racks! Forgotten yesterday? The bike was a Raleigh, a very popular English make back then. Someone really didn’t care if she left a bike like that. I’ll bet her parents were pissed. I put my Schwinn racer in the rack and took my handball glove and ball from the seat bag. As I walked to the courts I saw her. This was not a local girl!

Even from a distance I saw class and style. She was medium height, slender with flaxen hair cut in a short page boy. Sitting on a bench in front of the grandstand, she sipped a cola from a bottle. I stared in disbelief.

She stood, smiled in my direction and waved. I looked around to make sure there was no one else she might be greeting.

I was drawn to her immediately. I waved back and shouted "Hi." As I approached I noticed she had a field hockey stick. This game was played only in private high schools in the Brooklyn of the early fifties. My heart sank as I felt the gap between us grow even as I neared her.

She was lovely. Fair skin with just a sprinkling of freckles on her nose. Intense blue eyes. Her white shorts were folded up. A spotless short-sleeved white blouse was open enough to revel the lace edge of a tanktop undershirt. Her jewelry consisted of a small watch and diamond stud earrings. My heart beat accelerated as I reacted to her unaffected natural beauty. Her fair complexion, her grooming set her apart from the girls in this Italian and Jewish neighborhood.

"My name is Tenley," she volunteered as she extended her hand. I shook it awkwardly and was surprised by her firm, no nonsense handshake.

"We’re new here. Mum and I just moved into a house we’ve rented. We’re from England." Her accent had announced her origin with no need for explanation.

"My name’s Mitch."

"I do want to get in a bit more drill before I go home and shower for church. People around here seem so standoffish. You’re not like that or you wouldn’t have responded to my greeting. I do hope we can chat soon."

She picked up the hockey stick, tossed a ball onto the grass of the field and began a ritual of drills. I couldn’t say if I was more impressed by her speed of movement and of reflexes or by the clear outline of her white panties through her shorts.

"Okay. See you around," I said awkwardly as I stood open mouthed watching this angel.

A minute or two later I was at the handball court. My concentration was off; I kept looking back at Tenley.

Soon I was involved in a doubles game with some of the guys. Two were brothers, the third their cousin.

 

Tenley stood outside the chainlink fence of the court. She had no trouble getting my attention. Her face was framed by a girls’ version of the skimmer. The round straw hat with a turned up rim on the brim had a sort of scarf or ribbon around the crown. The look added to her attractiveness.

"Hi Tenley," I said warmly as we finished the point.

"I meant to give this to you, my phone number." She passed it me through the fence.

"Well hello!," my playing partner said as he leered at Tenley.

"Are you always so vulgar or are you trying to impress me?"

Laughter from his brother and cousin as his face reddened.

"Do call," Tenley said warmly.

"I will."

Tenley waved and walked toward the bike rack

My companions were suddenly mean. "You snub my sister but you run after that skinny bitch in a second. Mitch, you forget where you come from. Snub my sister, hey."

He shoved me and I found myself surrounded by the three of them. I figured I could take any one or even two of them if I got in a good shot. No way could I handle three.

Tenley was suddenly there. As Vinnie stepped toward me, Tenley shoved both her hands into the small of his back. He staggered forward barely avoiding a fall.

Vinnie turned cursing expecting to find one of the guys jumping into the fight. His jaw dropped as he realized this slip of girl had dared to attack him.

"Just thought I would even things up a bit."

"Look girl, this is none of your business. We’re friends. Just playing. So butt out."

Tenley stared calmly at Vinnie. He didn’t see the backhand slap coming. His head twisted with the force of the blow.

"But you see, I am definitely not playing. Never, never talk to me like that."

Vinnie shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. He was angry and frustrated. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen. If a guy started with him., he knew what to do although he was more bluster than anything else. But this slender, angelic looking girl had disrupted his whole style. I had the distinct feeling that he was afraid of Tenley. This girl didn’t know the rules of Vinnie’s little world. She might just be fast enough to beat his ass and humiliate him.

"Just forget the whole thing! You can’t even tell when friends are playing around." He backed away not daring to turn from her.

"I’ll ride home with you," I said to Tenley.

"Well, I am glad to see that there’s at least one gentleman around here."

Vinnie cursed me roundly as Tenley and I rode off.

 

"This is where mum and I are living. I’d invite you in but the place is a bit of mess what with unpacking. I’ve also got to get ready for church. Mum found an Episcopal Church not too far. No C. of E. in the States." Tenley rested her hand on mine as I leaned on the handlebars of my bike. "Are you all right?" I blushed as she asked the question. I realized I had been staring intently into her eyes. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you." Tenley kissed her fingertips and touched them to my lips.

"Do call. Promise?" Tenley called after me as I rode down her driveway.

 

Sitting in the cool darkness of the parish church, I reflected not on my soul but on the intense attraction I felt toward Tenley. As different from the girls of the neighborhood as my Roman Catholicism was from her Church of England and its Episcopalian offshoot here in America. I was a little concerned that Vinnie, ass hole that he was, would try to get even with her.

 

That evening I called Tenley. I was afraid her mother might answer and I didn’t know the ground rules for talking to parents of girls who were from outside my narrow world. Fortunately Tenley picked up. Her voice rose a few decibels and picked up speed when she heard my voice.

"Please, please come visit. I want to see you. Mum has to see that you really exist and that I didn’t invent you."

A few minutes later I knocked on Tenley’s door. I heard her bound down the stairs. Silence as she composed herself. I peeked through the high stained glass door window to see her comb her hair with her hand.

The door opened. "Mitch! Hi." she said enthusiastically. A quick but affectionate kiss on the lips as I stood awkwardly on the threshold.

"Come in at once," laughed Tenley as she pulled me into the vestibule. "Place is a mess down here so we had best chat in my room. Well not just a room but I’ve got a sitting room-study too."

I followed her up the stairs. Although there were a few days to go to Holy Week and Easter, Tenley already had an outdoorsy glow to her fair, smooth skin that seemed to radiate from within. She wore a long shirt or tunic which she tied loosely with a silk scarf. It reached to mid thigh. Soft ballet slippers drew my attention to the perfect ankles and tapered calves. I wondered if her choice of underwear would be as unusual as her choice of outer clothing.

Tenley stopped short. I almost ran into her. She turned, took my face in her hands, and bending forward from two steps above me, kissed me. Despite her polished English style, she was not the least reserved when it came to a kiss. Her tongue brushed over mine as she pushed my face from hers. "That’s how I wanted to greet you at the door. Mum would be upset if the neighbors started whispering."

The firm, muscular yet alluring curve of her thigh was inches from my face. Tiny golden hairs on her thighs moved as I breathed. I wrapped my arms around Tenley’s thighs and carried her to the top of the stairs. She ran her fingers through my hair as she smiled at me.

"Second door on the right," giggled Tenley.

I deposited her on the bed.

Tenley stood facing me the tips of her fingers traced the contours of my face. She sat down on the bed and curled her knees to her chest. Her chin rested on her knees as she wrapped her arms around her legs. Her face grew wistful, almost sad.

"Mitch, I’m so attracted to you. You’re so much more than the boys I knew back home...I’m afraid to let my feelings come out. We’ll hurt each other if we get involved. What ever happens between us will have to end and it will all too soon..."

I felt a lump rising in my throat. Did Tenley have regrets about what was amounting to nothing more than a flirtation?

A knock at the door interrupted this adolescent melodrama.

"Excuse me Miss Tenley. Mrs. Crichton asked me to let you know coffee is ready. She would like to meet your friend."

"Thank you. We’ll be down in moment."

Tenley slipped on a pair of dark slacks. She raised her skirt as she pulled them on and zipped them. Turning from me as she did so allowed me the briefest glimpse of the shiny white panties that caressed her tiny but shapely bottom.

Tenley’s every move was seductive without being in the least affected. A wistful smile melted my heart as she pushed her hair behind her ears. Her fingers rested on my hand. "Come down and meet my mum."

 

Tenley’s mother was an attractive, sophisticated lady. She explained she was in the art business and would be in New York for about eighteen months. If business opportunities were fruitful she would stay for several years and so might Tenley. She chose to live in this neighborhood so Tenley could experience a social milieu she had never known. Mrs. Crichton would also be lecturing in art history at New York University and at the New School.

I made a few points by explaining that I knew very little about art but had discovered the museums of New York and was educating myself by visiting them regularly. I didn’t tell her that my family thought that I was weird and my friends mocked me for this interest.

My acceptance to the municipal college system was met with mixed reaction by my family. They could see college as a sort of advanced trade school so one can be in a position to earn more money. My announcement that I would study liberal arts was met with a severe decree: "You do that, you get no support from us. You’ll pay your own way and you’ll pay your board."

Tenley became enthusiastic. "Mummy, this is wonderful. Mitch can show me the museums..."

"Yes, quite. I’m sure Mitch is quite bright. I admire his drive to learn the things that have made us civilized. I’m sure he’ll be quite suitable a companion for you."

 

Tenley and I walked around the block. She slipped her arm through mine as she rested her against my shoulder.

"Mummy’s a bit protective. Don’t take her aloof reaction too personally. She really does approve or she wouldn’t have commented at all."

"Tenley, I really think your special. I understand what you said upstairs. I know this will end when you go back home...but can’t we just let our feelings happen?"

Tenley paused, looked up at me through teary eyes and kissed me.

"Mitch, promise you’ll never hate me."

She put her finger over my lips before I could answer.

 

Homeroom the next morning. Vinnie was all enthusiastic.

"Big doings at the Avenue P handball courts next weekend. Doubles. You and me can make some easy bucks. No one in the whole city can beat us."

"Not on Saturday. Only Sunday. I’m going to the museum on Eastern Parkway with someone."

"You’re fucking strange. You’re gonna leave me hanging for some paintings?"

He was not happy but he was okay with it until he mulled it over.

"That skinny one from the courts, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Mitch, Mitch. I know you want to get out of this place. You don’t want to work with your hands like your father and his father before him. I accept that `cause your my friend.

"But you’re going about it wrong. That girl’s not from our world. You’re a joyride for her. When the novelty wears off, she’ll throw you away like a broken toy."

"Thanks, Vinnie, for caring. I’ll get through it." Given what Tenley had said in her bedroom, I suspected Vinnie wasn’t far from the truth.

 

That evening I called Tenley. There was an apologetic, almost sad tone in her voice. Maybe Vinnie’s prophecy was coming true sooner than he would have guessed.

"Mitch, about Saturday." Here it comes I thought. "Mum had my car shipped in. They’re going to get it ready but I have to pick it up late Saturday morning. We just have to put off the museum. But I do want to see you later in the day and on Sunday too if you care to see me."

I explained the situation.

"I’ll be at the Avenue P courts as soon as I can. Where on Avenue P?"

"Actually they’re on East Fourth between O & P. Nearer to P."

"I’ll never understand. I’ll see you then."

 

The school week ended on a high. I aced a renaissance history essay exam. For some dopey reason I wanted to show it to Tenley. Maybe she would tell her "mum" how great a student I was. Why the hell should I care about "mum"? Vinnie was right. This wasn’t going to last worth shit.

I went down to the courts to practice some doubles with Vinnie and the guys.

 

Saturday was a fine crisp day. Betting was heavy. Vinnie and I carried a few challengers to keep things interesting. This brought us more than a few bucks from some of the local gamblers who appreciated that we kept the betting going.

A couple of serious games later in the morning. Our speed, stamina, and concentration were holding up well.

Around eleven I started looking around for Tenley. Vinnie noticed.

"Mitch, Mitch concentrate on what we’re here for. She shows or she don’t show. Either way you’ll live." Vinnie was starting to sound like my grandfather.

I walked over to the street vendor to get a soda. A manual transmission car roared as the driver gunned the engine for attention. The sound told me this was no American car. I turned to see Tenley behind the wheel of a classic MG-TD: right hand drive, clam shell fenders, oversized headlights. Both Tenley and the car were classics.

Tenley smiled and waved. I walked to the car, bent over Tenley who looked up at me. We kissed. Applause from the hangers on.

Tenley pulled to the front of one of the few parking spaces on the street. Like any civilized person, her intent was to back into the spot. Some jerk in an Impala convertible nosed into the space as she started to back park. Tenley got out of her car and challenged the guy. The driver ignored her insistence that it was her space.

"Excuse me you rude creature but you’re not going to take my space."

"I already did. Why don’cha take this?" The loudmouth brandished his fist at her through the open window.

I started running toward them. Vinnie joined me.

Tenley calmly grabbed the driver’s hand and wrist between her hands and applied some sort of pressure hold. The driver bellowed in pain. Tenley released her grip and grabbed his hair. She started pulling him over the door of the car amidst laughter and cat calls from the crowd. The driver fell to the street landing on his knees. He flailed his arms to keep Tenley way from him. My slender English rose applied an arm bar. Her opponent was in big trouble.

The driver’s wife or girlfriend called the two cops who had been watching the courts from their cruiser. The cops pulled up and laughed. "This girl is the one who assaulted him? Lady, she should kick his butt. Might straighten out his brains. Give her the space before we lock you up for disturbing the peace."

Great applause and approving comments from the crowd who knew the driver as a pain who lived on that block. Tenley was the heroine of the moment.

After Vinnie and I dispatched the last two contenders we sat on a bench and counted up our money. About two-hundred eighty dollars for each of us. I was wondering how much money changed hands that the gamblers tipped us like that. Not that we didn’t’deserve it. There weren’t many guys who could control the point spread as regularly and as effectively as Vinnie and I.

 

Tenley and I went out for Chinese early that evening. A light steady, spring rain started around dusk.

"Mitch, I know you’re wondering but please don’t ask me how I learned to fight so well. I promise you’ll know but not just yet."

"Do they have a lot of Chinese restaurants in London?"

Tenley smiled as I compliantly changed the subject. "Lots, mostly take aways. Lots more Indian restaurants than here. About as many as the Chinese places in this area."

Tenley studied the menu. She screwed up her mouth. "Really? Now what part of China is tomato egg drop soup indigenous to?" Her eyes glowed with her buoyant mood.

"A Brooklyn specialty. Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it."

"What was it they were saying when they made ‘arrangements’ before each handball match? ‘You’re on,’ wasn’t that it? Mitch, you’re on!"

We ordered and were served.

"Oooh, I love it!" Tenley was loosening up as she reacted to the tomato egg drop soup. She had replaced her funk of the previous weekend with a large dose of verve.

Tenley sat with her back against the wall and stretched her legs along the bench of our dark booth. She bit the end off the egg roll. She turned slowly to me as she rested her foot on the edge of the bench. Her skirt slid over her thigh. Unfortunately the table prevented me from seeing her inner thighs and her panties.

Tenley giggled as she assumed a more modest pose.

 

We squeezed under a small umbrella as we strolled back to Tenley’s house. Tenley put her arm around my waist as she pulled mine around hers.

The maid who had knocked on Tenley’s door during my first visit handed us towels as we entered. "Tea or cocoa, Miss Tenley?"

"Nothing now, thank you. You may retire."

"Yes miss."

"Mum is out until late this evening."

I found myself in a sort of sitting room. Tenley steered me to a small couch. We snuggled close together. I found I was more relaxed with Tenley than I had ever been with any girl before. We sat back listening to the rain.

"No handball tomorrow I should think. This sounds like a long rain. Can we do the museum if that’s so?"

"God, yes. I’ll do anything with you."

I noticed a picture album on the coffee table. "My baby pictures, that sort of thing. Care to see?"

"I want to know everything about you forever, from day one to forever. Of course I want to see."

She was a beautiful baby, an adorable toddler. The first day of school in her jumper and hat.

Tenley pointed to a lovely woman who held her in the early pictures. "My real mother. I’ve no memory of her. Mummy adopted me. She was my real mother’s friend.

My dad. Wasn’t he ever so handsome? RAF officer in the war. Shot down just before I was born."

A picture of a three year old child scampering nude on the lawn of a large country house. "You were so ..." I started to say cute when I noticed that the child in picture seemed to have a penis. Yet the resemblance to Tenley was uncanny. I was reasonably sure she didn’t have a brother. Must be a cousin. Still, it was her face.

Tenley closed the album. Her mood changed when she saw I had noticed that picture. "Some other time." She closed the album and so closed my brief glimpse into her early years.

Tenley leaned over me as she guided my hand to her breast. She covered my face with kisses. "God, Mitch.... don’t ever hate me. I want you so much. Don’t let me hurt you but don’t ever hate me." She was shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Had I not already fallen in love with her, I might have cut out of her life. Her mood swings were too extreme. Then the was this recurring theme of her not wanting me to hate her.

"Nothing you could do or say will ever make me love you less." I kissed the tip of her nose.

"I’ll be by for you around noon. Will you be okay or should I wait until your mother gets home?"

"You are so, so caring. I’ll be fine. Annie is used to looking after me."

We walked hand in hand to the door. "Mitch, I want so much to love you."

"Amen to that."

 

I walked home with a Cole Porter song running thorough my head. The one that starts "I am dejected, I am depressed yet resurrected, sailing the crest...so in love with you am I."

Damn me for a fool, for not keeping my place in the order of things. Why did I have to go fall in love with a snobby little English girl? Protestant no less. Delicate English flower my ass. She can kick butt with the best of them.

 

There was note on the door when I got home.

Call Tenley. She needs to hear form you.

P.S. Who is Tenley and why does she talk

so funny?

My mother’s sense of humor!

 

Tenley picked up on the first ring. "Oh Mitch. I miss you so much. I’m so confused...I don’t want to love you because it’ll hurt too much when we have to part.

But I do love you. I knew it when I saw you, when I sensed you were made from a finer clay than ...oh I just want you and I want you to want me."

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the Saints...Slow down girl! I have feelings for you that are much more complex than I’ve ever dreamed possible. And I know I’ll never hate you"

"Promise?"

"Promise"

"Night Mitch"

"Night Tenley"

 

Annie answered the door. "I’ll tell Miss Tenley you’re here. Please come with me." I was shown into a study off the front hall. Mrs. Crichton rose to greet me.

"Mitch. I’m so very pleased that you and Tenley have taken an interest in each other. From what she tells me you’re a fine young man. Really quite impressive how you are educating yourself in so many things.

"I’m sure Tenley will benefit from your being able to show her so many of the attractions of New York."

She was warm yet I felt as though she saw me as some sort of convenient buffoon, a gavone who would act as a tour guide for her daughter. I could be discarded with no remorse when I was no longer a convenience.

Tenley’s mother was tall with light brown hair worn in a French knot. She had a figure that my Jewish friends would describe as "zaftig," juicy. She wore a blue knit dress with a fitted top and a looser skirt. Grayish stockings highlighted her superb legs made all the more shapely by high heeled pumps.

Mrs. Crichton seated herself in a Queen Anne chair on one side of the fireplace. She motioned me to take a seat. "Please relax. You seem awed by me. No reason for that. I’ve never been comfortable with the boys who’ve shown an interest in Tenley until you. Tenley is really impressed and drawn to you as she should be. I will not stand in the way of you paying sincere attention to Tenley.

"She’s different from most young people. But I sense you’re open enough to understand her, to adapt to her, to even love her. And I do mean love her in every sense of that word."

Mrs. Crichton leaned back and crossed her legs. She fanned her skirt flashing the dark welts of her stockings. There was a wistful, concerned, and caring quality to her voice and to her facial expression as she talked about Tenley.

"I know I’ll never deliberately or even carelessly abuse your trust. Tenley is so different from the girls I’ve known. She’s become very precious to me in the few days we’ve known each other. I just hope I can be worthy of her...for however long she’s interested in me."

"You see Mitch, Tenley’s mother’s short life became a hell that I failed to protect her from. I’ll not let that happen to Tenley. I get the sense you wouldn’t allow that either."

"Mrs. Crichton, the only reason I would part from Tenley would be if she asked me to or to keep from hurting her."

"Thank you, Mitch. I believe you."

A light knock at the door and Tenley entered. She sat down next to me on the small couch. Leaning her head against my shoulder, she rested her hand on mine.

"Well, Mum. Isn’t he every bit as yummy as I said?"

"He’s that and more. Don’t go treating him as you’ve treated some of the others. Cling fast to him."

"Oh mother! Don’t lecture. We must go. The museum opens in half an hour. May I take the MG?"

"Please do. And take an umbrella. You might enjoy a walk in the rain. Spring rains can be so romantic, what?"

Mrs. Crichton walked us to the door. She kissed Tenley. To my surprise she kissed me warmly. She stood between us, one hand on each of us. "Take care of each other."

Tenley wore a pink dress with a white Peter pan collar. Her white gloves were so ladylike as to be an almost surreal touch.

We slid into the MG. She pulled her skirt above her knees. "The better to work the pedals," she offered by way of qualification. The white garters led my eye and my imagination toward pleasures I couldn’t have conceived.

The MG maneuvered through the wet, green park toward the Brooklyn Museum. Tenley deftly parked the car in the one space left in front of the museum. We walked hand in hand into the museum.

We strolled the galleries not really seeing the exhibits nor the other visitors. We held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes. Coffee in the cafeteria. We held hands across the table.

"Can I take you to dinner?"

"You must have studying to do. Why don’t we eat at my house? Mum has an appointment with friends in Manhattan. It’ll just be the two of us and that will make it very special.. Annie can make us omelets and salad. White wine. I’ll phone Annie."

The phone booths were at the entrance to the gift shop. Tenley stepped out of the phone booth. I took her hand and led her into the gift shop.

"They have wonderful reproductions of ancient jewelry. I want you to choose something so we can have a keepsake of our first date."

"Mitch, you’re so sweet, such a romantic..." Then that pause and the sadness in her eyes. I beat her to it this time.

"Tenley, don’t ever think I might come to hate you. I promised I never would."

She leaned her face toward mine and kissed me lightly but lingeringly.

We leaned over the showcases. Tenley pointed excitedly at a small brass figure on a matching chain. "Bast! An Egyptian goddess. Please, Mitch. That one. It just suits me."

I hooked the chain around Tenley’s neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Ooooh, I’m so pleased!"

Tenley held the figure in her palm as she offered it for my inspection. The goddess Bast had a figure to rival even Mrs. Crichton. The odd aspect was that this clearly female figure had a penis!

 

The street lights were coming on as we drove home. Annie had set the table in the breakfast room. Warm French bread was on the table, a bottle of Riesling chilling in a silver wine bucket. Tenley used a waiter’s corkscrew to open the wine. My innocent looking angel was as skilled in opening a wine bottle as she was in so many other things.

Annie cleared away the salad plates. Tenley refilled the wine glasses. She fingered the figure of Bast looking as pleased as Punch.

As she filled my wine glass, Tenley bent over me. "Thank you. I just love it."

Her mouth enveloped mine as our tongues probed deeply.

Annie cleared her throat as she entered to serve the omelets.

"Miss Tenley, will you be needing me? The coffee is set up. Just add hot water."

"Thank you. Good night Annie."

"Good night Miss Tenley. Good night sir."

This slight recognition from Annie gave me a sense of acceptance, a feeling that I was less a non-person than on earlier visits.

A door closed. The sound of a television in Annie’s room. We were effectively alone.

"Let me play for you."

"Pardon."

"Piano. I play the piano."

I followed her to the sitting room. She seated herself at the Steinway parlor grand. The lid was partially raised.

"Come sit with me," Tenley suggested as her fingers roamed the keys. "Hasn’t been played of late. We had a tuner in this week.

"We have a Boesendorfer in London. Boesendorfers are so neat!"

I had no idea of what a Boesendorfer meant.

"Oscar Peterson plays one," commented Tenley. I had heard Oscar Peterson’s recordings and listened to him on a jazz radio station. A Boesendorfer was a piano of some kind! I realized the limit of my experience. A surge of hesitation came over me. It would take some work to come up to Tenley’s world. God and Mrs. Crichton willing, I might just make it.

"Shall I show off first?"

She didn’t wait for an answer but played Liszt’s "Fantasies on Hungarian Folk Themes." There was no music in front of her yet she played on! I knew something about Liszt from reading and from listening to recordings I borrowed from the main branch of the Brooklyn Public Library. It was awesome how this small girl had the power to play this difficult piece so well. It was beyond my wildest dreams to be sitting with this beautiful girl who could play so well, with such intensity. Would, I wondered, the passion with which she played translate to our love?

Tenley moved her hands from the piano and lowered them to her lap. I jumped to my feet and applauded. "Bravo, bravo! Tenley, you’re so phenomenal! I must have done something right for me to be here with you."

Tenley rose, pulled her skirt to the side and curtsied.

Again at the piano. Her touch changed. Debussy’s "Girl With The Flaxen Hair."

"The title suits you. You play it so well."

"Mitch, thank you. But don’t you see how much you know of things that matter. You don’t belong here. You belong with me. We belong together."

She wrapped her arms around my neck as we stood with our bodies touching. I hugged her, pulled her close against me. My hands roved over her back as she drove her tongue deeper into my mouth.

My hands cupped her bottom. I felt the hem of her panties through her skirt and slip. Her belly ground against my groin. Suddenly Tenley leaped against me and wrapped her legs around my waist Her nylon covered bottom rested in my hands.

I sat back on the piano bench as Tenley tightened her legs around my waist. She feverishly rubbed her body against mine. We fell to the floor.

Somehow Tenley opened my belt and lowered my trousers. She pulled my cock from my briefs. I pushed her away. "Tenley, don’t do something you may not be ready for, something you may regret."

"Oh shut up and let me love you! Mitch, I need you so badly...not just now, but forever."

"I need you Tenley. You’re my life, my hopes, my ..."

The sound of taxi discharging a passenger broke the mood.

"Your mother!"

"Really, Mitch. Don’t be so bourgeois! Mummy’s been around. She expects the same of me. And she does approve of you."

But the mood had been broken. Our assignation would wait.

 

I phoned Tenley every evening. She refused to see me during the week until after finals and Regent’s exams. We agreed to meet early on Saturday. Tenley wanted me to learn tennis.

"Wow, the sun glare off your tennis dress will blind me. No fair!"

Tenley wore a one piece tennis dress with a very short pleated skirt. The top was open enough to show the lace edged cotton tanktop. I wondered if she were wearing a brassiere.

She bent at the waist as she adjusted her white crew socks. Her skirt rose to show me the back of her panties! It was pretty obvious that she wore ordinary panties and not the shapeless things that came with tennis outfits. I was transfixed by the white nylon, aroused by the curved seam of the reinforced crotch that so beautifully framed the mysteries that had so enthralled me.

The early morning sunshine was overwhelmed by clouds. A steady rain called off the lesson. Tenley had brought her bike. "You pedal and I’ll sit on the seat."

We were in Tenley’s house in a few minutes. Annie was out shopping. "Mum"

had to go into the city to meet a potential client. I wondered what "mummy" did for or with or to her clients.

Tenley led me to her room. She opened the blinds. Trees and foliage kept the back garden private. "No one can see in," assured Tenley.

She went to the hall linen closet and returned with two large towels. Tenley threw a towel over my head and began drying my hair. I never knew a kiss as light and as fleeting as the one she gave me at that moment could be so sensual, so arousing.

Tenley looked at me wistfully. "Hold me, hold me. Don’t ever let me go!"

Her arms were around my neck. The hug lasted and yet was too short.

"Get out of those wet things before you catch a chill." She undid my jeans as she spoke. The rain became a storm as the light from outside faded from the room.

Tenley pushed my arms up and pulled my tee shirt over my head. I kicked off my sneakers. Tenley knelt down and removed my socks. She nuzzled her face against the front of my Jockey shorts. Her tongue tickled my navel. "Everything off," she said firmly as she rose to her feet and pulled my briefs down.

Tenley sat on the edge of her bed. She extended her leg straight up as she undid her tennis sneaker. She repeated this with the other leg. The shoes fell to the floor as she wiggled her feet. I dropped to my knees and rolled her socks off her feet. Massaging her arch, I kissed her toes, her ankles. Her legs parted. The panty crotch was taut and full.

The rain punctuated our breathing.

Tenley stood in front of me as she unbuttoned the tennis dress. It feel to the floor as I extend my hand toward the swell of her tiny breasts under the soft cotton tanktop. Her nipples hardened.

Turning her back to me, she wiggled her panties down over her cute bottom. She turned to me giggling as she revealed thin cotton panties under her outer nylon panties. "For comfort and hygiene. The nylon knickers were to tease you, to make you want me."

"I want you, I want you now and for all time."

She crossed her arms and grasped the edge of her tanktop. Her arms rose pulling the tanktop over her head. Her breasts were tiny domes with soft pink nipples. I kissed them slowly. My tongue circled her nipples as she quivered and suddenly sucked in air.

Her hand cupped my balls as if she were weighing them. Her tongue ran along my neck, buried itself in my ear. I shivered and moaned.

Tenley stepped back from me. "Mitch, you promised you would never hate me."

She hooked her thumbs in the waist band of her panties and pulled them down. Her cock sprang from between her legs! She was rock hard.

I was totally fascinated, totally aroused and even more in love with this unique beauty. "Tenley, you’re so, so beautiful. I love you."

Our cocks touched. We drew closer in a tight embrace as we fell onto the bed. Tenley straddled me, her balls just inches from my face. I tried to lick them but she teasingly pulled back. Her hand grasped my balls as she sunk her nails into my tender skin and squeezed. It was both painful and arousing. I was writhing and moaning as I yielded to the control of my lover.

Tenley knelt over my cock. She kissed the tip. She began nibbling the bottom of the shaft. I was wild with passion. I pushed Tenley onto her side and tasted her precum on my tongue. My mouth took her cockhead as my tongue swirled around the rim. Tenley yelped and thrashed. Instinct guided me as I sucked more and more of her shaft into my mouth.

Tenley pushed her face between my legs. Her tongue found a place I didn’t know existed; that wonderfully sensitive spot between the back of my balls and my hole. I quivered, my legs thrashed. I yelped and moaned.

Again, Tenley’s cockhead was in my mouth. She sucked my cockhead as she massaged the base of my shaft. My body arched as I came with a scream. An instant later Tenley pumped her warm cum into my eager mouth. It was wonderful!

We lay on our backs, heads resting on the other’s arm. We faced each other and kissed deeply.

"Do you hate me, Mitch?"

"Tenley, I love you all the more for what you are. You’ve raised me to ecstasy I never dreamed possible. No real girl can ever be half of what you are to me."

"Is it just because I have a penis?"

"Not just because. It’s all woven together. You’re you. Your uniqueness, your talent, your polish, your sincerity have made me fall so in love with you.

"And now I’m so afraid of losing you; so afraid that I’ll wake up and you’ll be a dream that’s gone."

"No, I won’t be gone. Mitch, you’ve got years of schooling ahead as I do, but I know we’ll make it work Just have faith."

She put my head on her chest and stroked my hair. I fell into a deep, relaxed sleep.

 

About three hours later I was awakened by a Tenley’s hair swishing lightly over my face. She smiled down at me and kissed me. The storm had subsided into a steady rain. My clothes, freshly laundered, were folded neatly on the edge of the bed.

Tenley stepped back and gazed down at me. An ivory silk kimono hung open showing a matching chemise that fell loosely over her body, a body whose secret I now knew.

"Do you hate me?" she said softly, seriously.

"Tenley, I love you more than ever."

She handed me a tooth brush and led me into her bathroom. She turned on the shower. After draping the kimono over a chair, she slipped the straps of the chemise off her shoulders. The ivory silk fell slowly down over her body. I followed with my eyes. The small but real breasts. Her deep navel. Her cock and tight scrotum. The sight of this beautiful being who was so much more than either sex again aroused me.

"Do behave. Annie is making lunch for us."

The shower we shared was a sensual yet innocent, unselfish exploration of our bodies. We kissed deeply as we allowed the water to rinse way the soap we so eagerly applied. It rinsed away many of our tensions and fears.

 

We dressed. Watching Tenley dress was more exciting than watching most real girls undress. She chose a powder blue bra and matching panties. A white blouse and a Royal Stuart kilt; a real kilt! Knee socks and penny loafers completed her ensemble. So wholesome yet so desirable.

"May I use the phone?"

"Of course. Not necessary for you to ask."

My twelve year old sister answered.

"Mitch, it came!"

"Open it."

"No! You said you’ll kill me if I open your mail."

"Rosie! Come on. This is different."

"What’s it worth to you?"

"Just do it."

Silence. A few seconds later, a scream. "Yes! Yes! You did it! Mitch, you did it."

I hung up in disbelief.

Tenley looked at me. "Good news?"

"Yes. Big time good news! I won a major scholarship to New York University. Tuition, room, and board. There’s a catch. I have to find money for expenses and to live on during the summer and during breaks."

Mitch, that is so, so fabulous! Mum will be so proud that you’re a scholar!"

"Tenley, this may be none of my business...What is it your mother does in the art business?"

Tenley grew serious. "Mummy is a sort of private detective. She tracks down missing and stolen art pieces. We manage to live very well. Please don’t ask me more right now. Mummy will tell you as we’re together even more.

"She managed to raise me in good circumstances and to send me to some very fine schools. I’ve been living as a girl ever since I can remember. That’s part of why Mummy had me trained in combat sports, martial arts stuff. I could be discovered if anyone I didn’t trust tried to be intimate.

"Mummy sensed my musical talent and provided me with an excellent musical education. I’m going to audition for a teacher in New York. I know I probably won’t be a concert artist but I would like to teach.

"I feared loneliness and perpetual rejection until I met you.

"I’m rambling. Lunch is ready."

 

Annie had set a lunch of cold roast beef and cheese before she discretely vanished.

Tenley and I served ourselves from platters left on the sideboard. Tenley poured my first English ale.

We sat on either side of the corner of the table. She took my hand and kissed the palm. Her eyes gazed at another place and at another time.

"Mitch, you really should know more about me. Now that I feel secure with you, I want to tell you things about me.

"My real mother was a scientist of some sort doing very hush hush research for the war office. Mummy had been her best friend forever. They were very, very close...intimately close if you catch my drift. Oh, they loved men. That much is obvious or I wouldn’t be here.

"Mummy was in some cloak and dagger counterspy thing. That’s how she got the skills she uses in her work.

"Well, my mother was pregnant with me but no one thought to check on the effects of materials she was working with. I was born a perfect baby except that I was sexually ambiguous!

"The doctors often create female genitalia at birth when that happens. I mean they do it surgically. My mother wouldn’t allow that. Mummy made sure that I remained unaltered.

"She and daddy wanted to see if my psyche, my personality would turn out to be that of a girl or of a boy.

"Thanks but no thanks. I’m very happy being what I am. I really am a girl mostly but I don’t ever want to change my body."

I pressed her hand. "Tenley, don’t ever change anything. I fell in love with you and I want you to be the you I fell in love with. And I want to share my life with you just as you are."

"That sounds like a marriage proposal."

"It is, kind of. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a courtship though?"

"Mitch, you’re such a romantic. I love you for it."

I paused. "There’s a practical side to it also. My family isn’t ready for it yet. They don’t even know about the scholarship and I’m not sure how to tell them.

"The only one I’ve told anything to is my baby sister. Rosemarie is like me. She wants a different life from what’s expected in the family. We’re allies that way."

"Rosemarie sounds more than a bit like you. She has to be wonderful. I want to know her. I’m sure she and I will get on famously."

 

Tenley drove me home so I could change and spend some time with my family. My mother wasn’t feeling well lately and I was beginning to feel concerned.

My older sister had joined the Navy as an enlisted woman the week after she graduated from high school. That was almost a year ago. My father cursed her for leaving. I sided with Maria. She did the right thing. My father was a tyrant. He thought girls were in the family to be maids for him. He really loved my mother and treated her well according to his code. He never abused her in any way, shape or form.

Mother was a bright lady who liked to read and could have done more with her life than keep house for my father. I resembled her and, in some ways, identified with her family who were more tolerant of education and of culture than was my father.

 

"Ma, I’m going to college in September."

"It’s not that I don’t like the idea. Your father needs you in the business. You’ll be a partner soon. The money is good.

"Besides, there’s no way your father will pay for college. He won’t even let you live here free while you go.

"For me, Mitch, work with your father. Maybe he’ll be okay if you go to school at night. Maybe to be an accountant would be good. He’ll see that as being a better business man.

"I want peace with between him and you. Rosemarie is young yet. Things could change. Please, Mitch. I need peace in this family."

I explained to her about the scholarship. Mom cried and laughed. "I won’t tell him until you’re ready to go."

 

Rosemarie stood waiting for me in the doorway to her bedroom as I came up the stairs. "Thanks for leaving me flat, big brother. First Maria, now you."

"Rosie, Rosie so much is happening. I promise I’ll be back for you. I’ll help you get out of here when you’re ready.

"There’s someone I want you to meet. We should spend time together, the three of us."

"Is that the girl who almost slapped Vinnie’s head off? He’s such a jerk. Christina was at the Avenue P handball courts two Saturdays ago when she yanked some fat asshole out of his car. She must be Super Girl and Wonder Woman rolled into one. Christina said she’s beautiful, not dyke looking like you would expect a girl who can fight like that to look."

"Rosie, you have some spy system. And since when does my little sister know about dykes?"

"Mitch, I’m twelve! I know lots of things."

"Teach you that at St. Brendan’s?"

"Not in class anyhow," she laughed. "But daddy’s going to send me to a girl’s high school. He doesn’t want me ‘corrupted’ by public high school like Maria was."

"If being made aware is being ‘corrupted’ then I’m all for corruption. What are you doing tonight?"

"Mom and dad are going to the movies on Avenue J. I’ll go to any other movie. I don’t need dad looking at me to make sure I remain a saint."

"Why don’t you come to the movies with Tenley and me? I want you to know her."

"Neat."

Mom wasn’t feeling well so my folks stayed home. Rosie stayed with them. Someone had to fetch and carry. Dad sure wouldn’t.

 

That Monday my mother saw a doctor in Manhattan. She was admitted to University Hospital for tests and exploratory surgery. Pancreatic cancer!

As much as I was disaffected with the Church and my whole cultural background, I knelt at my mother’s bedside and prayed with her and for her. I prayed for Rosemarie, that she might survive with her emotions and values in tact.

I called Maria who came back to Brooklyn. My father wouldn’t let her in the house. She stayed with Mrs. Crichton and Tenley. I was very moved by the support we got from them.

Tenley and I picked Maria up at Idelwild. Maria looked great. Her one piece summer uniform flattered her. She had lost a little weight but her figure looked fabulous. Her rich black hair was short but stylish. The Navy had done well by her.

Tenley carried the clothing bag that held Maria’s dress uniform while I carried her overnight bag. Maria was left with a small case.

Maria leaned over the car seat and whispered in my ear. "She’s so elegantly beautiful, so polished, and so charming. Hold on to her, little brother."

Tenley looked at me and smiled. "Better do as big sister says."

 

Mrs. Crichton was most supportive of Maria. She made Maria feel relaxed and was always available to her yet allowed my sister her privacy.

My sister was delighted when Mrs. Crichton told her about her work in World War II and how she transformed that into a lucrative business.

Maria had become a very skilled secretary while she was in the Navy. She worked in units involved in important projects. Second class petty officer in less than a year in service was no easy feat. Mrs. Crichton’s adventures served to whet Maria’s appetite for excitement beyond a desk job in Washington.

Maria who had always been aware of the power over men and women that sexual attraction had given her had become more adept, more subtle in her seductive skills. She had a new "shtick." She sat with her legs demurely crossed, her skirt tucked tightly under her. Her foot would wiggle ever so slightly as her shoe tangled from her toes. This called attention to her superbly muscular legs. She would fuss with the buttons of her uniform to reveal a bit of lace on her slip or bra. Maria could get anyone’s attention. She used to tease me when I was hitting puberty. She was ever more desirable now. If she were not my sister, Tenley might have had serious competition.

 

A week before my mother’s death Rosie was offered a scholarship to an elite girls’ academy in Connecticut. Mrs. Crcihton was clearly the guardian angel for both my

sisters.

My mother died in mid July. Her requiem mass was the last time I ever entered a Catholic church.

Our father would not acknowledge Maria at the wake. Rosie and I sat with her in a pew behind my father during the mass. We thus effectively severed our ties with our father.

The severe dress uniform gave Maria a sophisticated beauty that our neighbors couldn’t help notice and comment on. Our father squirmed uncomfortably when those offering condolences commented on how proud he must be of Maria.

 

The three of us went from the cemetery to Mrs. Crichton’s house. There was no point in maintaining the fiction that we had any feelings left for our father. Rosemarie would have to remain with my father for a few more years but most of her year would be spent at school..

Maria announced that she had, through some mysterious providence, been assigned to Naval Security, the investigative arm of the Navy Department. She thanked Mrs. Crichton for this with a warm kiss on the lips!

 

It was mid-August. Tenley had been helping Rosie shop for school. I was working in an art gallery on Madison Avenue. Needless to add that Mrs. Crichton had introduced me to my employer. No more summers with my father doing tile work. No more learning the business form the ground up. Or was it from the grout up?

I met Tenley and Rosie for lunch. Tenley said she had a surprise to show me. Rosie looked like that cat that swallowed the canary.

We soon walked up the stairs of a double brownstone in Chelsea. To my surprise, Tenley unlocked the front door.

"We’re leaving Brooklyn, all of us. Mummy, you and me. Your room is next to mine. Well, you do need an address when you’re not in school. There’s a room for Maria whenever she wants to visit.

"Mummy will have her offices for the art brokerage business and for her investigative services here. Of course so very few people know about the investigative part."

 

I wasn’t clear on the timing of the move but I was sure it had something to with some mysterious project that probably involved Brooklyn. My guess proved true when the papers reported a number of arrests of some jewelers in Brooklyn who had been selling objects stolen from holocaust victims. Documentation had been sent to the FBI and to the Kings County District Attorney. An independent investigator had intercepted much of the material and had returned the objects to their rightful owners. The commissions and reward money amounted to a substantial sum.

 

 

Tenley and I decided we were going to be the first to spend a night in the new home. We wouldn’t be alone; Annie would be there to look after us.

I met Tenley in front of a store called Henri Bendel on fifty-seventh street. She was laden with packages. "Just wait until you see what I bought. For your eyes only." Her smile promised intimacies that were new and even more exciting than the thousand unexpected sensations she gave me every time we explored lovemaking.

"I want you to watch me dress for dinner."

 

Tenley came form the shower looking as innocent, as pristine and as subtly sexy as a Maxfield Parrish painting. She stepped into black silk brief panties with only the slightest hint of lace at the leg openings. She stood as she hooked the black lace bra in front of her. The beige lining of the bra would conceal her nipples and gave her even more allure for its mystery. She turned the cups to the front, bent forward, slid her arms into the straps and comfortably adjusted her breasts in the cups. She stepped into a garment that was part half slip, part garter belt.

Tenley did her eye makeup, applied her lipstick. She needed nothing else. The wholesome glow radiated from her inner depths. A pearl choker and matching teardrop earrings.

She sat on the edge of her bed as she rolled her stocking, eased it over her foot and drew it quickly, efficiently over her golden skin. The fingers that so adeptly brought me to heights of ecstasy snapped the garters closed. Tenley slipped on the black T strap pumps. With the grace and fluidity of a ballerina, she bet at the waist and closed the tiny buckles. Her sweet bottom was inches from my face. I longed to run my tongue along the lace edges of the leg bands, to kiss the base of her spine as she eased her panties down. That would all wait until we returned.

Each move, each gesture brought me deeper in love with my unique, my complete lover. She stepped into the black dress and turned her back to me. I kissed her ears as I zipped the dress.

Tenley was elegant beyond belief. Watching her dress had been seductive beyond endurance.

The legal drinking age was eighteen back then. "Let’s skip dinner. Just drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I don’t want to wait for you to love me, Mitch." I would have been a fool to argue. .

 

Annie had espresso and Fra Angelico set up for us.

Tenley was as relaxed as a cat as she settled back in the chair. She curled her legs under. Her skirt was well above the level of ‘decency’ yet she lost none of her elegance and gained more innocent charm by the unaffected naturalness of her movements..

She sipped the cordial. "Oooohhhh, that is so delicious," she purred. Her tongue probed the glass. I rose, tipped her face toward mine and kissed her.

"Mmmmm, you’re even more delicious."

Tenley stood up and put my arms around her waist. We began to dance as Tenley hummed.

A few minutes later we stood in Tenley’s room. The soft light from the street lamps gave the room a pleasantly dim glow.

We undressed each other. I kissed every part of Tenley as I helped her undress. I sat on the edge of the bed as she stood before me in her panties. I traced the edges of her cheeks where the panties had ridden up. She put one foot on the bed next to me. I worked my tongue under the leg band and licked the soft skin of her scrotum. Once more her enchanting bottom. I slowly pulled her panties down kissing the base of her spine. My tongue probed lower in that warm cleft between her cheeks. She lowered her panties and kicked them aside. Her hands were on my face as they guided me to her cock. My mouth closed over her cockhead.

Tenley pushed me back on the bed. Her tongued teased my nipples as her fingers roamed over my cock. Tenley was now in control.

As I lay on my back Tenley knelt over me and ran her tongue around the rim of my cockhead. Her lovely tail was inches from my face. I raised my head and kissed her hole. She writhed and screeched as my tongue probed her bottom.

Tenley fell to her side. I kept my head between her legs and alternated licking the back of her scrotum and plunging my tongue into her virgin asshole.

She rolled another back and pulled me between her legs. Her hand was on the back of my head as she drove her tongue deep into my mouth. The sensation of tongue gliding over tongue quivered to the soles of my feet.

"Fuck me, fuck me," she pleaded as she drew her knees to her chest. She guided my cock against her hole. She raised her hips as I thrust into her. A yelp as of pain as I entered her for the first time. We both moaned and screamed as Tenley rolled her hips from side to side. I felt the orgasm build as I started to throb uncontrollably.

Tenley screamed as she shot a stream of warm cum onto my belly. I thrashed as wave after wave of rapture swept through me. The orgasm went on and on as we shared intense ecstasies.

We collapsed in each others arms, too happy to move, too out of breath to speak.

"Thank you, thank you," said Tenley covering my face with kisses. "That was more wonderful than I dreamed it would be."

We lay side by side holding hands.

"And, Mitch."

"Tenley."

"Thanks for not hating me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

My father’s death left Rosie in limbo as far as guardianship. He left a very specific will but failed to arrange a testamentary guardian for Rosie who was almost a high school senior at that point. Mrs. Crichton arranged for an attorney specializing in wills and probate to look after Rosie’s interests. Rosemarie came to live in the brownstone in Chelsea soon after that.

 

Rosie moved in over her winter break. Mrs. Crichton, Tenley and I drove to Connecticut in a borrowed Ford Town & Country station wagon, the old Ford "woody" type. A mover had transferred her belongings from our old house in Brooklyn to the brownstone earlier in the week.

Rosie was on the steps of her residence hall when we pulled up. Her Loden coat was open to the midday sun. The six foot muffler in school colors was draped loosely around her neck. She was still in one of the many uniforms of St. Swithin’s Academy. Her olive complexion, her long well brushed black hair was an exotic contrast in a school girl where blond hair and blue eyes were the norm.

Mrs. Crichton and I got out of the car. Rosie ran down the steps and into my arms. We exchanged no words but the silence of our hugs and of our tears spoke of the family love that still survived.

Rosie turned to Mrs. Crichton who extended her hand. Rosie took Mrs. Crichton’s hand in hers but suddenly embraced her benefactress. I was glad to see that her years at a super WASPy Episcopalian school hadn’t completely obliterated her Mediterranean passion.

A school porter materialized out of nowhere and loaded Rosie’s bags into the rear of the station wagon. The three of us squeezed into the front seat of the wagon. We headed down route seven.

Rosie shed her Loden coat when she got in the wagon. Her feet rested on the transmission hump. To alleviate her discomfort, she frequently shifted position. The skirt of her jumper was above her knees. The black tights highlighted her shapely albeit muscular legs. Rosie rested her hand on the edge of the seat and furtively brushed her fingers over Mrs. Crichton’s stockinged knee.

Rosie chattered nervously. She sincerely thanked Mrs. Crichton for all she had done. Mrs. Crichton responded by pressing Rosie’s hand in hers. Rosie managed to hold on to Mrs. Crichton’s hand and rest in her on her own thigh!

"Damn," I thought to myself. "Little Rosie is a very efficient flirt...and she’s even good at flirting with women!"

 

Annie had a late supper ready for us as soon as we unloaded the car and settled Rosemarie in her room. I returned the station wagon to the garage where Mrs. Crichton’s friend kept it.

Rosie was standing in the downstairs hall looking morose. Mrs. Crichton approached her, took her hand, and led her to the front sitting room. She put her fingers on Rosie’s chin, tilted her head back and looked into her eyes. A warm, sincerely caring tone communicated as much as the words of support she spoke.

"Mrs. Crichton," Rosie began as she choked back tears. "I don’t deserve all that you do for me...I ..." She sobbed and began to cry in earnest.

The older woman hugged her, pressed Rosie’s head to her breast. "There, there...Just let it all out. You’ve been brave for too long."

Mrs. Crichton guided Rosie to a couch. She sat Rosie down and helped her curl up in fetal position. The older woman sat at the end of the couch. Rosie’s head was soon on her lap as Mrs. Crichton stroked her silky black hair. It looked so incongruous; this nubile teen in tears, curled up like a baby, and sucking her thumb. And yet I had not seen Rosie this peaceful in all the years since Maria left home.

Lecher that I was, I noticed that Rosie’s schoolgirl skirt and risen up on the back of her thighs exposing her panty covered and very well formed tush. My baby sister was no longer a baby. The pink cotton clung to her curves and accented the deep cleft between her firm, high, round nether cheeks. I took a deep breath as I wondered when the baby fat had dissolved leaving the firmness of the young woman.

Rosie had been muttering through her tears. Mrs. Crichton comforted her. "No, Rosie. No one will think you love your mother’s memory any less for letting me take care of you." Rosie smiled and then wept openly, a long cathartic interval.

A car stopped outside. The interval between the car door opening and reclosing before the car drove off suggested it was a taxi. I heard Annie open the front door.

Maria stood in the doorway of the sitting room. Her well tailored winter uniform flattered her. She saluted. "Petty officer first class Maria Fiorenza reporting as ordered."

Rosie jumped off the couch and threw her arms around Maria. "We’re all here. We’re all together here. We really still are a family...Mrs. Crichton made us a family again."

The noise brought Tenley down from her room. Her long legs showed as the front of her full length blue velvet dressing gown parted with each step. The lace hem of her short slip accented the creamy complexion of her thighs. Maria eyed Tenley up and down as she appraised her. "Tenley, you’re more beautiful each time I see you. My brother has found so much of what he needs in you. I hope he has as much to offer you."

"Never you fear. He surely gives me at least as much as I give him. Maria, there are things about me that most men would find less than attractive. Mitch accepts me for all that I am, and I do mean all! I can ask for no more." Tenley spoke with an authority that clearly cut off any further discussion of what Mitch and Tenley might mean to each other.

Maria turned her attention to Mrs. Crichton "Thanks so much for this family reunion. Really has been so difficult since our mother died. Never did imagine we would be together again." She pressed Mrs. Crichton’s hand in hers and kissed her gently on the lips. If Maria hadn’t closed her eyes she would have noticed that Mrs. Crichton reached out to embrace her but paused as if the hug would have been inappropriate. Yet there was an intensity, an electricity that communicated more clearly than words the growing magnetism between Maria and Mrs. Crichton. Perhaps it was the intensity of the hug they would have shared that gave Mrs. Crichton pause.

Rosie returned from her short trip to the kitchen. "Annie needs tomato juice. I’ll walk over to the all night grocery and get some." She slipped into her Loden coat, threw her scarf around her neck, and slapped her uniform beret on as she stepped out the front door. She paused to pull her shoulder length hair from under her coat collar.

My sisters were different from each other. Both undeniably beautiful but as different in face and figure as they were in personality. Rosie turned to us before she closed the door. "I’m a big girl. Don’t even think about walking with me." Her black hair and olive skin must have set her apart as the exotic one in the WASP world of the St. Swithin’s Academy for Girls. Her slenderness coupled with her classically Italian features gave her the look of Marisa Pavan or Pier Angeli. A closed mouthed smile gave her the radiance of a saint in a medieval painting. She closed the door and was off to the store. Our baby sister alone in the streets of Manhattan in the late evening! Our father would have said "Corrupted!" Our mother would have been proud of her baby’s confidence.

 

Uncertain of Rosemarie’s skills in negotiating the pitfalls of New York, even in the relatively safe nineteen-fifties, I stepped out onto the stoop "Just for breath of fresh air." Tenley joined me. We held hands and looked toward Seventh Avenue just to watch traffic. Of course we were anxiously awaiting Rosie’s safe return.

We looked at each other and smiled as Rosie turned the corner onto our street. A commotion made her turn to see a petite teen being pursued by two larger teens or early twenty something thugs turn the corner. Rosie put her shopping bag on the roof of a parked car and dashed across the street as one of the thugs caught the quarry and pulled her to the ground.

"Buzz off, girl. This has nothing to do with you. Buzz off and don’t get hurt!" He lunged at Rosie in a feigned attack. His ploy didn’t work. Rosie kicked his knee cap. As he fell off balance she grabbed his jacket , yanked him forward and down and brought her knee into his gut. He gasped and stepped back. Seeing Tenley and me charging across the street in addition to the rough handling from a preppie looking girl caused him to bolt. He ran off leaving his companion to face Rosie’s wrath.

The remaining thug had the victim on the ground and was talking to her. Rosie spoke loudly but without urgency or panic. "Get off her, shit!"

"This is private business so get lost and you’ll be all right..."

"I’m making this my business and you’re the one who has to worry about being all right." Rosie launched her full weight against him knocking him sprawling on the side walk. A startled look as he realized his companion had abandoned him. He got to his feet and jabbed at Rosie who parried the blow with a rising block as she shot her fist into his ribs. The former tormentor blanched at the realization he might have started something he couldn’t finish.

The tough back-pedaled as Rosie pounded away at his ribs. He assumed a boxer’s stance as Rosie brought a right cross to his face. He reeled back. My baby sister closed in and landed an uppercut to his jaw. The tormentor was now the tormented as Rosie jabbed blow after blow to his middle. He brought his fists up again only to receive a one-two combination that left him reeling as blood spurted from his nose. Rosie closed in once again, this time punching her larger opponent square in his crotch. He fell to his knees gasping for breath. It was over in less than two minutes. Tenley and I applauded.

We turned our attention to the petite waif whose green eyes were as wide as a deer’s caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The boyish figure, the elfin face could have belonged to a boy or a girl. Despite this teen’s strawberry blond ponytail, smooth skin and fine features, I was uncertain whether this was a boy or a very slender, flat-chested girl. The vee neck sweater had been yanked up high enough to reveal the pink elastic band and pink satin of what were clearly panties. This girl had an eerie, otherworldly attractiveness that in other contexts would easily have drawn the attention of men and the jealous glances of women.

Rosie knelt on one knee and comforted her.

"Thank you...but please don’t call the police. It’ll be worse for me later if you do. They just wanted me back home. They’re my cousins, one at least. They want me to say the other’s are too. My family doesn’t like me out when there might be people from outside the neighborhood, like tourists hanging around. You see... No, you’ll never see. Just leave me. I know I sound ungrateful but just leave me, please."

Tenley and Rosie helped the girl to her feet. "I’m Tenley and this is Rosemarie."

"Thank you again. I’m Kerry."

"Please come to that house if you ever need help or want to get out of whatever situation you’ve gotten yourself into" Tenley tilted her head toward the brownstone.

Kerry was silent as tears ran down her cheeks. "I’ll be okay. They won’t really hurt me. I just have to pull myself together."

We reluctantly left her as she sat down on the curb and hugged her knees. Looking back as we opened the door of the brownstone, I saw Kerry get up, brush off the back of her jeans and walk hurriedly west across town.

 

We were soon enjoying the late cold supper that Annie had set out for us. Adjourning to the front sitting room for coffee was next on the schedule. I sat on the small couch nest to Rosie. Tenley perched on the arm next to me with her hand resting on my shoulder. Maria sat with her knees together on the Queen Anne chair to the side of the fireplace. As Mrs. Crichton entered with the coffee things, Maria raised one knee and slowly crossed her legs giving everyone a liberal showing of the black welts of her dark uniform stockings and of the shimmery whiteness of her panty crotch. She looked at Mrs. Crichton and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Mrs. Crichton and Maria were soon engaged in conversation.

Rosie spoke in a voice so low as to almost be whisper. "Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Tenley?"

"About what?"

"That girl, the one whose cousins were dragging her home."

"Just what is it you’re thinking about her or maybe about him!"

"Yeah! I just had this feeling and then when I was kneeling down to talk to her..."

"You noticed the bulge in her jeans; ever so slight but enough to raise some questions. My guess is that her family doesn’t want to become a sort of tourist attraction, local freak to be gawked at and tormented."

"They sure protect her in weird ways."

"I know. If we get the chance we can help her live however she wants to and as whoever she wants.

"Most peculiar was that Kerry spoke with an American accent, New England I think, but those two she said were her cousins were definitely from the UK, most likely lager louts from Liverpool or Manchester!"

"She better learn to use a gaff.," I added.

Rosie looked at me. "What is a gaff? And how do you two know so much about boys in drag?"

 

The three younger members of the household were greeted by Mrs. Crcihton as they came down for breakfast. The snatches of conversation she had heard the night before piqued her interest in the cast of characters in last nights "episode" on the street.

"The family connections sound like something that Interpol may be interested in. You see a group operating out of the low countries was bringing antiquities of questionable provenance into the States and Canada via the north of England. They may have used merchant seamen with relatives in the States to ferry the merchandise. Having relatives in the States would allow them to secure visitors visas with no difficulty. The sources dried up so they sought a new business and found one, a rather nasty one at that. The network, now well established, is suspected of moving young women from Iron Curtain countries to the United Sates and Canada. The girls believe they’re coming here to work as maids and such but once here they are sold into prostitution. If this girl is a relative who stumbled onto the truth of why there were so many females passing through, she could be a threat to the operation especially since they no longer need the visitor’s visas. Our first move is to get her out of there.

"If we can’t coax her away, we’ll get nasty."

 

Later that morning Maria, dressed in civilian clothes, began nosing around the area. Her features were obscured by a scarf wrapped around her hair and neck as well as by large dark sunglasses. She noticed a young man at the news-stand buy a copy of "Seventeen" magazine; for his niece he explained as he paid for the magazine and a packet of Player’s Cigarettes, a brand very popular in England! He paused at the corner to light up.

Maria bought a hot dog and a soda from the vendor at the corner. A slim, strikingly pretty strawberry blonde merged from a ladies specialty shop in the company of a young man with a freshly bruised face. "My baby sister did that!" thought Maria with an approving smile.

"Christ’s sake, Kerry! I really want to help you feel comfortable while we get through our business but it’s embarrassing when you ask to choose which set of day of the week knickers are cuter."

"Well if you really want me to feel like things are normal , just let me go back to my waitress job."

The three bought cokes from the vendor and sipped them as Maria innocently chewed her hot dog with no apparent interest in their conversation.

"We’ll take some air in the park near the river this afternoon. The boss isn’t about to let you out unescorted...especially not after last night."

"Sorry I wasn’t there." The other young man spoke up. "I would have loved to see that little girl beat up on you."

"The little bitch blind sided me. I would love to get her in a fair fight."

"Blind sided you my ass," interjected Kerry. "You threw the first punch. She could easily whip your butt any day."

Her companion turned beet red as he fumed. "You really shouldn’t talk about other people," he said to Kerry after he composed himself. "You’re just too grotesque to really exist. Weird bitch! I would love to do you in when the boss thinks it’s time."

"Sooo scared," teased Kerry in mock terror. "I might be the one to do you in. Really Ralph , you’re a fine one to talk about grotesque."

The larger youth nudged Ralph to remind him to keep the conversation low key in public at least..

Maria was incensed. She never tolerated bullies or bullying. Even the smaller Ralph outweighed Kerry by quite a bit. Clearly Kerry was a prisoner who would be in danger as soon as she was no longer useful. Maria surmised that Kerry was taken out in public to defuse any rumors that might start if she was no longer seen in the area.

Maria decided it was time to "liberate" Kerry. There was no time to contact Mrs. Crichton.

The trio headed west along twentieth street to a maze of walkups and small industrial properties. Maria followed closely, turned up town and a cross street, rounded the block and was at the next cross street before the three got there.

Maria darted out of the shadows catching the larger youth by surprise. Not large compared to most men, he was Maria’s size. He looked street tough but was no match for Maria’s well honed fighting skills. The full force of Maria’s weight caught his side as she rammed him against the wall of a building. Her hand held the back of his head as she slammed his face against the bricks. He was stunned and helpless. Maria drove her knee into his balls. He collapsed onto his hands and knees. Maria pulled his head up and drove her knee into his face. The unconscious man fell forward.

Ralph was in a panic. As he began to run, Kerry caught him by his hair. "Now let’s see who’s grotesque, you little shit. You bullied when we were growing up but only when you had a protector. Remember how I got back at you when no one was around to help you?" Kerry was shrieking with the pent up anger of a lifetime of being different, of being the sissy, of being the girlie boy. "And if you don’t remember, you’re about to get a refresher." Her nails were in Ralph’s face. He vainly tried to cover up. Kerry’s fists pounded his ribs as he put his arms over his face.

Maria steered the pair into an alley between the buildings. Kerry kept up her relentless, rage driven assault. Ralph periodically tried to fight her off only to be met by a barrage of slaps and punches from the slender, gracefully beautiful Kerry.

Ralph fell to the pavement overwhelmed by the impact of Kerry’s barrage. "Get up you bastard," Kerry ordered. Not allowing him time to rise above a kneel, Kerry caught his hair and repeatedly slapped his face with her other hand. Her fist crashed against the side of his face sending him sprawling.

Kerry dropped her knee into Ralph’s stomach. He bellowed as his breath left him. "When we were growing up you tormented me by asking if you could see if I wore knickers. Take a good look." Kerry raised her skirt to her waist and covered Ralph’s face with her butt. Her victim was suffocating, limbs twitching as he faded from consciousness.

"Enough," ordered Maria who then turned her attention to her opponent who was beginning to recover. As he rose to his feet Maria administered the coup de grace in the form a right cross. He went down and stayed down. Kerry, nostrils flaring in still unspent rage followed Maria’s cue. Ralph lay still.

"Take one of his shoes and let’s get out of here before we have to explain to the police."

"His shoe? I don’t understand"

"Just do it," ordered Maria who held her victim’s shoe.

Kerry followed Maria’s lead as she dropped the shoe into a storm sewer. Kerry laughed. "I guess they don’t walk so quickly in their bare feet." Her mood changed suddenly. "I can’t go back. I’ve no money and no clothes. You meant well but I’m fucked! They’ll kill me right off when they find me."

"Just stay close to me... That girl who punched out Ralph last night...I’m her sister. You’re staying with us."

 

Kerry sat at the kitchen table. Tears ran down her cheeks. Mrs. Crichton faced her impassively. Annie set a mug of hot tea in front of the strangely beautiful creature.

"It all turned out so badly. Mummie tried so hard to protect me. She even brought me from England when I was ten so we could get a fresh start. I was never sure whether I was really a boy or girl with a "peenie." Those who should have loved us were the cruelest. Ralph is my age. Stupid shit... He was such a faggot that the only way he could get any acceptance was to torment me but he only had the balls to do it when other boys egged him on. Once I caught him going through my dresser...getting his jollies handling my knickers and stuff. Didn’t have the balls to get his own and wear them. I was furious. I got back at him then and there. Really hurt him, I did. But then my granny put mummie on the spot for my wild behavior. Mummie told the old bitch where to get off. The next week we left for the States.

" Mummie got a job as a cook, housekeeper to the head of a private school in New Hampshire. She brought me in as her daughter. I attended the school and lived with mummie. I was ever so happy. The companionship, the uniforms...just being a girl."

Tears and a far away look as Mrs. Crichton gently pressed her hand.

I finished high school at the academy. Didn’t want mummie to have to help me through college or training school. I wanted to be a hairdresser...Maybe even be a ladies maid.

"I came to New York to make it on my own. Deliberately moved near Greenwich Village ‘cause I thought I might find others like me and even maybe men who would like girls like me..."

"I got a call from Ralph. He was in the merchant marine. They would love to have a prolonged layover in New York but they needed me for a visa. I felt badly for the little shit.

"Made me a bloody prisoner while they went about their smuggling."

Silence as tears ran down Kerry’s cheeks. Her beautiful features bore the hard look of hatred.

 

Mrs. Crichton called Kerry and Tenley aside for a private conference. The two left and returned with several packages and bags from various clothing stores and ladies specialty shops. They hung their purchases in an empty bedroom adjacent to Rosemarie’s.

Kerry was soaking in a warm bath. Rosie helped her out and wrapped in her a large terry towel. Kerry reached up and held Rosie’s hand as my sister brushed our the older girl’s hair.

Rosie smiled as Kerry stood and let the towel fall free. Rosie smiled at the image of this beautiful slender girl who had only the slightest hint of breasts on her smooth, hairless body. Rosie smiled as she scanned Kerry’s image in the full length mirror. Rosie felt herself grow warm as her eyes locked on Kerry’s cock. Her panties moistened as she watched Kerry step into white cotton briefs and tuck herself in place. A cotton nightie covered the exotic, beauty of Kerry’s body.

Rosie tucked her in bed, smoother her hair over the pillow, and started to tiptoe out of the room. She paused, looked back at the already sleeping Kerry, and returned to her bedside. She ran her finger tips over the smooth skin of Kerry’s cheek. Rosie bent forward and kissed Kerry’s forehead...then she kissed her lips. Kerry stirred in her sleep.

"Sleep well, Angel. No one will ever hurt you again."

 

We sat around the dining room table as Mrs. Crichton laid out the situation. "Kerry is safe here. We’ve got to keep a watch on her lest she try to make contact. She’ll feel better if we keep her suitably occupied. She’s going to be Annie’s assistant. Kerry will serve at table. She can play at being Rosie’s personal maid.

"Since they no longer need Ralph to be the official contact with Kerry, he may be in deep trouble. We’ve got to get hold of him if we can. Given Maria’s description of his enviousness of Kerry’s transgendered state, I’m sure we can "free" him of his hangups while allowing Kerry to get back at him.

"Kerry knows no details of the operation. Ralph may. We need him for that information. He is not to be seriously hurt. Is that clear you lot?

"Maria will give Kerry a rush course in unarmed self-defense."

 

Annie announced that we would have a traditional "tea" at four o’clock. Kerry appeared in a white maid’s uniform. No, not that silly French maid costume so popular in romantic farces. This was a straight knee length, one piece uniform with apron; the sort of thing that a waitress in a genteel cafe might wear

Kerry looked so real, so beautiful. Her full calves tapered to perfect ankles. The dark uniform stockings and clunky heels couldn’t conceal the perfection of her legs. Her hair was in a French braid. "I did it myself," she proudly whispered to Rosie who rested her hand on Kerry’s yummy tush each time our new maid paused near her.

 

Dinner. Kerry wore a black uniform with a white apron. Rosie went into the kitchen to see Kerry hike her skirt and adjust the garter snap on her black stockings. Unlike the coarse cotton stockings she had worn at tea, Kerry now wore shiny, black opaque, opera length, seamed nylons. Rosie was transfixed. When Rosie finally tore herself away from Kerry, she announced to Tenley and me, "Excuse me, but I’ve got to go up and change out of these soaking wet panties. All Kerry’s fault. I’ve got to give her a good tongue lashing." Rosie smiled and at us and bounded up the stairs laughing at her double entendre as she went. She paused at the top step, turned to us. "Tongue lashing! Get it!" She darted her tongue in and out, flicked over her upper lip, laughed an vanished down the hall.

 

Kerry opened the front door to take in the New York Times and the Daily News that were delivered each morning. Her eyes widened as she scanned the front pages. A body had been found near the near the river-front in Chelsea. The article explained that it was an English merchant seaman who had been beaten beyond recognition. Kerry actually felt relieved to learn that it wasn’t Ralphie but the youth Maria had beaten senseless the morning Kerry was "liberated."

These people played for keeps. Undoubtedly the penalty for losing Kerry was a painful death. Ralph might still be alive because he would be useful if he knew where Kerry had gone. Kerry was no longer useful. The whole operation would crumble soon. But Kerry had to be silenced. Ralph would have to be pay the supreme price for his part in letting Kerry escape. He would be spared until they knew where Kerry had been taken.

 

Rosie walked along twenty-third street toward the subway. She was going to shop for some dressier clothes for Kerry. No problem since they were the same size. She spotted Ralph walking slowly between two older men. The goons were clearly involved in a random search for clues to Kerry’s whereabouts.

Rosie drew alongside them. Ralph either didn’t recognize from the night she punched him out or was keeping it to himself. They paused at the corner waiting for the traffic light to change. A police cruiser idled at the end of a bus stop.

"Oh shit!" Rosie’s exclamation drew the attention of the unsavory trio as they stood alongside her. "My shoe’s come undone." She rested her foot on a fire hydrant offering the three a liberal view of her thigh. Nor were the police in the cruiser were immune to Rosie’s charms.

"Shit and more shit! The lace is broken. I need someone to hold my pocketbook so I can use both hands." She handed the purse to Ralph.

Rosie screamed without warning. "He stole my purse! Give me my purse."

She locked Ralph in a struggle she could have ended in an instant.

Ralph’s companions looked at each other and dissolved into the crowd that had suddenly collected. The two cops jumped from the cruiser and collared Ralph just as Rosie dumped him face first into a puddle.

Later that afternoon Mrs. Crichton and Rosie showed up at the precinct house where Rosie declined to press charges. They waited outside until the newly released but obviously terrified Ralph appeared.

"In the car or I’ll break you in half here and now," Rosie threatened as Mrs. Crichton held open the door. Maria drove off as soon as Ralph was safely seated between Rosie and Mrs. Crichton.

 

Rosie slid her hand between Ralphie’s thighs. His eyes widened in terror. Rosie’s hand rested on the terrified youth’s crotch. Rosie smiled at him. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Rosie’s hand closed suddenly. Too terrified to scream, the prisoner groaned.

Ralph lay on the floor of the car with Rosie’s feet resting on his chest. Mrs. Crichton looked out of the car window ignoring the torment Ralph received from Rosie.

Maria parked the car in an alley alongside the brownstone. Ralph was allowed to lead the way to the street. "Never fear. The little shit is too scared to run. Go ahead and prove me wrong," challenged Rosie. "I would just love to break your neck right here."

The lower entrance was open. The door slammed behind them leaving them in the dim light of the basement corridor.
Ralph was left alone in the recreation room that served as a gym/fitness center for Mrs. Crichton and her entourage. He began thinking of ways to escape. He knew it was futile. A slow death awaited him if he was caught by his former companions.

"Hello cousin." Kerry stood in the doorway. She wore a green tanktop leotard and short wrap skirt. Seamed fishnet tights adorned her newly muscular legs. White crew socks and sneakers completed her ensemble. "I know, I know...I’m still such a sissy faggot." A sardonic smile played across her pretty face as she flexed her small but defined muscles. "Been working out though!" She approached Ralph, caught his wrist and swept her foot over his ankles. He fell flat on his back. "Do at least give me a tussle."

A collar and hip toss sent Ralph sprawling once more. He came up fighting only to be caught in an arm bar as Kerry doubled him to his knees. "Now, now you shit." She applied pressure causing Ralph to bellow in agony. She released his arm and pulled him by his hair as she slapped his face.

The pain and humiliation overwhelmed him. ""Do control yourself. You are so useless. Not even a good sparring partner. We’re going to send you back to your friends."

Ralph blanched. "Oh dear. Ralphie is upset. Perhaps Ralphie should be replaced by Regina. Undress, you piece of shit."

The physically and emotionally dazed Ralph complied. Kerry sunk her nails into his bottom as she steered him to the shower.

The Nair did its work. Ralph was hairless except for his head and his pubic area.

He stepped into the pink cotton brief and wrapped himself in the short kimono. Kerry dried his hair with a towel. "You know you really are pretty. Stop fighting it. You know you’re going to be happy as Regina. Tears, not of pain nor of fear, trickled down Regina’s cheeks.

Regina sat alone as Kerry changed her clothing. Her patent leather pumps along the smooth, sheer black tights gave her legs a formidable attractiveness. A short pleated skirt hardly reached the middle of her thighs. A white scoop neck sweater called attention to her cleavage.

Regina tilted her head back as Kerry applied the makeup. An elastic waist cinch with an attached gaff gave Regina an unmistakably female torso. Even before the blond wig was on and combed to suit the features of the newly created Regina, no one would ever doubt this was a slender girl who was incredibly sexy despite her very flat chest.

Regina’s hands quivered as she turned the white nylon panties the right way. Her heart pounded in her chest as she drew them over her thighs. Kerry turned her to the

mirror. "That is really me, isn’t it? Kerry, I wanted this for so long. Please forgive me for the way I treated you back home. I was just so jealous..." She dissolved in tears.

Regina lay crying on the bed. She looked up at Kerry who sat by her side. "Just so sorry...I mean it."

"You’ll be forgiven if you earn it by being a good little girl. You’ll be my assistant maid here. Fuck up or betray us and you’ll be handed back just as you are."

Regina’s crying intensified. No, I’ll be good...I’ll be..." Kerry’s hand closed over the hysterical girl’s mouth. "No talk. Just prove yourself by doing."

Kerry walked away from the newly created girl as she sobbed. She left Regina alone in her room and walked off down the hall. But first she locked the door from the outside.

 

The soft morning light gave the room an odd glow as Regina stirred. This was the first relaxed sleep she had in weeks. Her hands ran over her hips. Thank goodness it wasn’t a dream. The smooth nylon panties were still there.

Her cock, driven by a full bladder, strained against the gaff. Regina rushed to the tiny bathroom, yanked off the gaff and stood emptying her bladder into the toilet.

"That is no way for a young lady to relieve herself!" Kerry’s voice had a clearly judgmental tone. "I see you really want to go back to being a boy!"

Regina froze in terror. "No, please. I really am a girl. Let me be what I really am."

Kerry faced the newly created Regina. She grabbed her balls and drove her finger nails into the tender skin. Regina whimpered.

"Regina is just too formal and too elegant for a simpering little bitch like you. We’ll call you Gigi until you can be a grown up lady."

Kerry led Gigi back to the bedroom. She stood shivering in her waist cinch as Kerry handed her white cotton panties, the sort that a ten year old school girl might wear. A cotton under vest with a pink bow followed. A slip with attached petticoat. Knee socks and patent Mary Janes for her legs and feet. A child’s party dress.

"So cute, so sweet," cooed Kerry as she reached under Gigi’s skirt and adjusted her panties. Gigi blushed. She felt her cock stiffen and wished she had been allowed to wear a gaff.

Gigi began to relax as she ate breakfast in the kitchen. Kerry smiled at her. "You will pay the price for trying to pee like a boy.

The rest of the morning was spent in teaching Gigi femme mannerisms. Learning to walk in heels was the most difficult part. After lunch Gigi napped in the white cotton nightie Kerry had laid out for her..

Gigi woke up and stretched. Sudden panic as she realized her pretty little girl things had been taken from her body. She wore coarse white briefs, boy briefs. Kerry stood before her. "You wanted to pee like a boy so you’ll be a boy until I think you deserve to be a girl."

Gigi started to plead. Kerry caught her hair and yanked her to the floor. "You tormented me for being what you only dared to dream of being. No petticoat punishment for you, you sorry bitch. You’ll be a boy until you’re weary of begging to be a girl. Do you understand, Mr. Ralph?"

"Please, I need to be Gigi."

"You’ll be what I tell you to be. Your boy clothes are in the closet. Feel free to leave." Kerry slapped her face. Ralph lay in a sobbing heap as Kerry slammed the door behind her. This time she didn’t lock it.

The afternoon seemed endless as Ralph stared at the mirror. The lovely young girl who had looked back at him only a few days ago was gone. Tears ran down his cheeks. He went to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, peed, dabbed his pee slit with toilet tissue, and began to cry. He looked up to see Kerry smiling at him approvingly. "Feeling better?" Ralph nodded. "Good girl," said Kerry soothingly. Gigi’s tears were now tears of happiness.

The reversal of petticoat punishment was very effective. Gigi had secretly longed to be a girl for years and years. Dressing as a girl was reward, not punishment. After having had a taste of femininity, going back to boy gear was humiliating, something beyond endurance.

"Gigi darling, perhaps we can rid you of that awful Ralph person forever. But you must be a good little girl." Gigi nodded agreement.

Gigi showered under Kerry’s supervision. Time to dress. Tight pink nylon panties were first. A white training bra followed. Crew socks and saddle shoes. Gigi turned again and again in front of the mirror. A full slip and a shirtwaist dress completed the ensemble. Gigi’s hair was brushed into a cute pixie style. She looked every bit the early adolescent, the teen just awakening to womanhood.

Gigi assisted Kerry in serving dinner. She was green with envy every time Rosie clandestinely ran her hand over Kerry’s tush or reached under her skirt. Watching Kerry and Rosie kiss, a tongue touching kiss at that, was almost too much for Gigi to bear.

After dinner when Kerry had changed out of her maid’s uniform, Gigi was allowed to take a walk with Kerry and Rosie who held hands. It wasn’t until Gigi caught her reflection in store window that she realized she was strolling on a crowded city street and no one had thought she was other than a cute young teen out for a walk with two older teens.

"Gigi sweetie, you did well. So relaxed." Rosie kissed Gigi lightly on the lips. Kerry saw Gigi up to her room. The two uniquely endowed girls kissed deeply, slowly. Gigi was unfulfilled.

 

The next morning Kerry took Gigi shopping. Cute nylon day of the week panties.

Several training bras in white and pastels. Gigi blushed slightly as befitted a young girl learning to shop for intimate things under the tutelage of an older, caring relative. The saleswoman looked on approvingly.

Rosie and Kerry helped Gigi do her makeup and hair. A white garter belt was the first item in the long process of dressing. A lightly padded training bra with real lace around the cups. So demure but so very sexy. No matter that no one would see it. Gigi knew it was there and felt so much more femme, so much more seductive just knowing it was there. Real nylons; white and opaque but real nylons for all that. Her cock started to swell as she looked at her partially dressed reflection. Kerry faced Gigi and kissed her. Their tongues met. Kerry’s finger enveloped the shaft of Gigi’s cock. Her finger tips slid over the rim. Gigi throbbed and exploded in Kerry’s hand. Kerry held her hand in front of Gigi’s mouth. Gigi’s first taste of cum was her own as she licked Kerry’s hand!

The white skin tight panties had a seam along the back, as seam which emphasized the cleft between the pert teen cheeks. Rosie and Kerry lowered an ivory silk chemise over Gigi’s head as Gigi stepped into the black patent t-strap heels; not terribly high but just right for this properly brought up beauty who was no longer a girl but not yet a woman. The illusion that Gigi had become was flawless.

The two older girls turned Gigi to the mirror. Ralph was nowhere to be seen. Gig prayed that he was gone forever. Rosie spoke first. "too bad we have to put a dress on you. You are just so incredible."

Gigi giggled. "I know but I can’t go out like this...can I?"

A dark crimson velvet dress fit perfectly. The loose fitting garment clung to Gigi’s lithe young curves. The hem brushed the top of her knees. "Sit like a lady or you’re in trouble" warned Kerry. Gigi nodded.

"We’re taking you to a piano recital at the Carnage Hall. You’re exposure to culture is about to begin. But first we have a stop to make."

Gigi winced as her ears were pierced. Gold posts were inserted. Again tears of joy at being accepted as a real girl. She kissed Rosie and Kerry on the cheek as they left the jewelry shop. "Thank you, thank you. A girl couldn’t possibly have two better guides than you both."

The box seats at Carnage Hall were unreal. Gigi was taken aback by the gold and red auditorium. She applauded madly as Beethoven’s fifth piano concerto, The Emperor ended. "Oh my God! This is so thrilling!" She was nearly orgasmic! Again kisses for Rosie and Kerry.

They stopped for coffee and pastries at a nearby cafe. The three girls turned heads. A number of women remarked on Gigi. "What an adorable girl. She’ll be some heartbreaker in a couple of years." They would have been shattered to learn that only a few days before the adorable, pubescent Gigi was a twenty year old steward on a merchant vessel.

Being so young Gigi was allowed only hot chocolate while her older companions had espresso. She pouted in a way that only enhanced her charms. She was mindful not to overdo the petulance lest she awaken in boy briefs.

 

Winter break was over. Rosie returned to St. Swithin’s leaving Kerry to continue molding Gigi.

Each day saw Gigi grow more comfortable, more secure in her new identity. Femme mannerisms suited her. Walking, serving at table, negotiating stairs and curbs were no longer a problem as Gigi practiced walking in heels almost constantly.

Gigi got a special thrill passing as a twelve year old girl. She was petite and slender even for a girl. Her own hair had grown long enough to style in a variety of ways from baby bunches to pony tail to French twist.

Gigi played a power game in public. She would sit on a bus or subway casually spreading her thighs. Teen boys and grown men stared transfixed at her inner thighs as they hoped to catch a glimpse of her panties. She obliged them but then looked shocked and even terrified as she "realized" what they were doing. The males blushed, changed seats, fled from the car leaving Gigi and Kerry laughing.

Punishment still loomed for every transgression. Kerry would order Gigi to wear boy briefs, the ugly, coarse Jockeys under a knee length skirt flared out by crinolines and petticoats. Gigi would sit and fuss, clench her knees together lest any gawker realize she was being humiliated in boy’s underpants.

It was during an afternoon lesson in becoming a young lady that Gigi became a woman. Gigi was trying on her first panty-girdle. A white long legs with a control panel in front was pulled into place. The constricting garment was incredibly stimulating.

Kerry stepped back to admire the effect. She ran her tongue over her teeth as she felt a tingle in her groin. She extended her finger tips and traced Gigi’s nipples. Stepping forward, she hugged Gigi as she nuzzled the girl’s ear. Her hands cupped Gigi’s butt as she pressed her mouth over Gigi’s. Her pupil’s hands reached behind her and undid the zipper of her dress. Kerry shrugged off her dress and stepped from it. She was even more beautiful as she stood in a green satin chemise that revealed the tops of her gray stockings.

Gigi now assumed the role of aggressor. She drew Kerry to her and probed her mouth, her throat with her tongue. Her hand s slipped along Kerry’s sides. Her fingers eased the chemise above her waist as her hands grabbed Kerry’s muscular ass.

The two fell onto the bed. Gigi lay across Kerry and lifted Kerry’s face to her chest. Kerry’s tongue circled her lover’s nipple as her hand grabbed her crotch. Kerry spilled Gigi onto her back and tugged the panty girdle down to her thighs. Gigi’s cock sprang to full erection.

Kerry’s mouth was wrapped around Gigi’s cockhead as Gigi struggled to pull Kerry’s panties down. The two were suddenly in a sixty-nine position. Fingers, lips, tongues were busy as the two girlie-boys brought each other to new bliss. Gigi exploded all too soon! Kerry let herself go. Her back arched as she pumped what seemed like gallons of cum into Gigi’s hungry mouth. They fell back panting.

Gigi leaned over Kerry. "You are so, so tasty. It was over all too soon. But that was my fault. Do I have to wear those awful Jockeys?" She giggled as she teased Kerry’s lips with her tongue.

Kerry hugged her and drove her tongue into her mouth. "What do you think?"

 

Gigi made her self more and more useful around the house. Mrs. Crichton limited her movements. "Kerry, darling, we still can’t be sure whether you’re little playmate is subdued. Ralph may suddenly reappear and try to ingratiate himself with his former companions by selling us out."

"I understand, Mrs.C,"

"Then break her!"

Kerry curtsied and backed out of the room. Mrs. Crichton smiled approvingly. Kerry had learned to play the perfect undermaid. She would be a useful spy in years to come. The beautiful trannie could slip in anywhere as a servant or as a hired lover.

Gigi was polishing the wooden stairs leading to the second floor. Kerry stood a few stairs below where the tiny, almost preteen looking girl worked on the wood. She slid her hand between the Gigi’s thighs and gently felt her balls. Gigi started. She looked up at Kerry and winked.

"Really, you’re such a conceited bitch," snarled Kerry. "I was checking your uniform not coming on to you. A gaff must be worn with what you have on! You don’t deserve to wear pretty underthings."

Gigi turned pale at the prospect of wearing white Jockey shorts once more. She relaxed as Kerry smiled down at her. As Gigi smiled back Kerry place her foot on the smaller girl’s hand. Gigi’s eyes widened in fear and then in pain as Kerry ground her shoe on her hand.

"Be ready to serve tea to Mrs. Crichton and Tenley. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss Kerry. I understand."

Tears filled Gigi’s eyes as Kerry walked quickly up the stairs.

 

"Oh God," she thought. "What have I done? I’m trying so hard to please. I can’t ever be Ralph again...God, I so much want to please Kerry and Mrs.Crichton and Tenley and Rosie. I want to fit in the way I am." She sat sobbing on the stairs, her legs parted offering a view of her white shiny panties to any who cared to look.. Annie passed by. "Cover yourself up, you shameless creature." The words stung. Gigi cried as she ran up to her room. "I’m not shameless..."

Gigi hugged herself and rocked to and for with an occasional glance at her tear stained face in the mirror. She saw Kerry’s reflection and wondered how long she had been standing behind her.

Kerry grasped Gigi’s chin in her hand and turned her face toward her own. She bent forward and kissed the tormented girl on the mouth. The kiss was long and deep.

Kerry pulled Gigi from the chair. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she raised Gigi’s skirt above her hips. Gigi whimpered as Kerry nibbled at her cock through the nylon panties.

Gigi was forced onto the bed on her knees with her head resting on her hands. Kerry fondled her Gigi’s balls as the now passive girl wondered what was about to happen.

Gigi’s panties were gently eased down over her thighs. Kerry playfully snapped the garter straps that held the stockings taught. Gigi quivered as Kerry’s tongue probed between her cheeks. She screeched as Kerry’s tongue slid in and out of her hole. An electric tingling as Kerry grasped her balls. Kerry was now on her knees. Gigi began to throb as she felt Kerry’s tummy against her arse. Kerry’s’ finger tip flicked a pearl of precum from Gigi’s dick. Kerry purred as she tasted it from her finger.

Gigi became tense as she felt Kerry’s cockhead press against her virgin hole! "Relax sweetie, just relax. Let me do the work." Something cold was rubbed into her asshole. A sudden thrust and Kerry was in her. It burned but felt so good. Gigi reached between her legs and held Kerry’s balls. Kerry began to play with Gigi’s cockhead as she drove deeper into her.

Gigi whimpered and yelped as she approached orgasm. She felt Kerry’s cock begin to throb. Kerry screamed as Gigi tightened her grasp on her lover’s balls. Kerry bucked as she came. A moment later Gigi screamed in zenith of her new found ecstasy.

The sound of water awakened the dozing Gigi. She lay back on the bed as Kerry completely undressed her. Gigi was still ecstatic form the lesson in loving she had received only twenty minutes ago. Kerry handed her a fresh tube of Nair and ordered her into the now steaming bathroom.

The longline bra/waist cinch combination pulled Gigi’s slender figure into a still more perfect illusion of a girl. The padded cups pushed her tiny breasts together in a very acceptable cleavage. She rolled the jet black stockings onto her smooth legs. Her neck craned over her shoulder as she checked the seams in the full length mirror. The four inch heels were the highest she had ever worn. It took a few turns of the room to learn to negotiate in them.

Kerry braided her now shoulder length hair into a single plait. Exaggerated makeup yet not so exaggerated that it gave her the farcical look of a fetish magazine slut. A short, black skirt that barely covered her stocking tops was fluffed out by crinolines. Again, not quite a fetish slut.

"I love it, I love it!" beamed Gigi as she twirled in front of the mirror. Only the tip of her cock showing in the see of white petticoats betrayed that Gigi was an illusion. "Ohh, the panties will be so neat!" Her face fell as she Kerry stood before her dangling from her finger was the thick, grossly coarse cotton Jockeys shorts!

Suppressing tears, trying not to gag, Gigi stepped into the appalling underpants as Kerry held them out to her. Kerry kissed the tip of Gigi’s cock just before it disappeared behind the revolting fly front of the horrid underpants..

Gigi moved toward the back stairs. "No, no. You’re going to make a grand entrance. Tenley and Mitch are awaiting your appearance. Go down the front stairs...now!"

Her hand was on the front of her skirt as Tenley and Mitch looked up at her. The descent was doubly difficult. She feared her heels might catch and send her sprawling thus revealing the disgrace of her Jockey shorts. As she neared the last few stairs she saw Tenley staring at her thighs. "She must have seen those disgusting boy briefs," thought the girlie boy as tears filled her eyes. "I wasn’t bad. Why?"

"Different," said Tenley to the humiliated girl as she lifted Gigi’s skirt and grasped the white cotton between her thumb and forefinger. "Yucky, really yucky."

Gigi was diverted by the sight of a strawberry blonde in a classic "little black dress" disappearing into the living room. "Oh God, a stranger and so cute, at least from the back! Someone else to vex me in these disgusting pants."

The new girl sat back on the couch and crossed her legs languidly. She stretched her legs forward and pointed her toes allowing her skirt to slide over thighs to an indiscreet level. She stared fiercely as Gigi curtsied and asked if he may serve.

"Do cover those ridiculous things you’re wearing!" commanded the girl on the couch. Gigi saw her face and realized it was Kerry.

Mitch wrapped his arm around Gigi’s thighs and pressed her close to him as he sat. "She could really be attractive if only she knew what to wear under this pretty outfit." His hand slid under her skirt and cupped her balls. "Still, she feels special." Gigi’s heart beat faster. Was he about to come on to her or was he teasing?

Gigi bent at the knees as she served wine. "Tea" was now a cocktail hour. Mitch smiled at her. His hand brushed her the bare back of her thighs above the stocking each time she flexed her knees near him. Tenley managed to flip Gigi’s skirt over her tush each time she turned her back in proximity to the young English beauty. Gigi had no idea that Tenley, who was openly having an affair with Mitch, was a trannie.

Kerry reclined on the couch her skirt above her stocking tops. Gigi was transfixed as her tormentress spread her legs to reveal the crotch of her black silk panties. The outline of her cockhead made Gigi go hard!

"Gigi, attend to this immediately. Here and now!" She turned at Tenley’s haughty command. Tenley held a small gift box in her hand. As she took it from her mistress, Mitch eased the underpants down her thighs. She stood awkwardly, her erect cock pushing out of the petticoats of the brief skirt, the repugnant briefs around her ankles hobbling her if she tried to move. Her face lit up as she opened the box. She held up the white, girdle tight panties. The lace ruffle was so, so femme. "May I?" she asked Tenley.

"I did say here and now, you silly girl"

Gigi kicked the Jockeys aside and stepped into the panties. Applause from her audience of three as she finally adjusted them in place and snapped the hem down over her backside.

" My mother is out of town and Annie is off. You’ll join us for a cold supper. But first you are to go up and change into the clothes Kerry has laid out on your bed. You’re one of us now."

Gigi was delighted when she saw the clothing on the bed. Powder blue nylon panties and a matching training bra. A petti slip to go with the dress. A rather demure garter belt but a still a garter belt for the white stockings. Yes, real stockings and not tights like a baby!

Kerry redid Gigi’s makeup and did her hair in a ponytail. Gigi, in the pastel blue panties and bra set, looked in the mirror as she extended her legs and smoothed out her stockings. She fastened the clips of the garters and resmoothed the opaque stockings. A demure yet sexy, flawless twelve year old girl smiled at her from the mirror as Kerry slid the pettislip and dress over her outstretched arms.

Gigi pushed Kerry back onto the bed. Kerry’s skirt was at her waist. Gigi knelt between Kerry’s thighs. The smaller girl pulled Kerry’s panty crotch aside. She clutched her lover’s cock and knelt closer. "Let me thank you." She said no more. After all, a young lady should never talk with her mouth full.

 

Tenley and Mitch applauded as Kerry brought the newly formed Gigi into the drawing room. The evolution from the coarse, would be tough of a few weeks ago to the enchantingly beautiful girl on the eve of womanhood was almost too good to be real. Kerry had performed a near miracle transforming the tormentor of childhood, the youth who would have betrayed her loyalty and generosity, first into a simpering lackey and now into a radiant charmer.

Gigi kept to her role as the naive seductress. "Look how grownup I am now," he exclaimed as she raised her skirt and petticoats to show the tops of her shimmering stockings. Of course she managed to flash an expanse of bare thigh and panty hem. "Ohh, I’m being naughty." Gigi did manage to snap her panty hem over her tush as she lowered her skirt and fluffed her pettis.

Mitch looked at her like he hadn’t had a decent meal in days. Kerry went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher. Gigi followed. Tenley wrapped her arms around Mitch and clung tightly. "I knew you might need other girls when I fell in love with you but I really thought they would be real girls. I didn’t expect you to be so attracted by another girl like me. But if that’s what you need, go for it! We’re not married yet...not even engaged. Just do what you have to do. I’m still yours forever." She looked up and kissed Mitch.

"The dust bins, oops! Here they’re trash cans, whatever. The trash is at the curb for tomorrow’s pickup. I’ll take this stuff out. Be right back." Gigi went out the side door and walked down the alley to the street, bag of garbage in each hand. A sudden crash of metal and a shout from Gigi brought the other three to the street. Gigi held a garbage can cover and was battering the face and shoulder of a chubby man who lay on his back and was struggling vainly to get to his feet only to be knocked down by Gigi’s garbage can cover weapon. He rolled onto his side and ineffectively grabbed at the girl’s ankles only to have his hand stomped on by the furious Gigi. He almost made it to his knees but Gigi smashed the garbage can cover across the back of his head he fell forward, his face hitting the pavement with resounding crack! Gigi began kicking his ribs.

Mitch caught Gigi around the waist and lifted her off the ground. She continued to kick at her victim. "Easy girl, you’re going to hurt even worse than you already have." Gigi screeched, "I’ll kill the filthy bastard! He tried to touch me and ...and..." She managed a wink at Tenley. Kerry bent forward, her hands on her knees, to get a look at the injured man. "I have no idea who this disgusting pervert is," she said loudly for the benefit of the few onlookers who had collected. To Tenley she whispered, "He’s one of them."

A police car pulled up. "Wow, I’m impressed little girl" the young patrolman said to Gigi. "Thank you officer, but he tried to touch me and I just had to defend myself. I guess I got in a lucky punch."

Tenley intervened. "Officer, my cousin is visiting from England. This is most unpleasant for her as it is for all of us. I really don’t want to put her through any more trauma."

"I understand . Miss, let me talk to my partner." The older patrolman had dispersed the few onlookers and walked up to Tenley. He spoke softly. "No sense upsetting the young miss more than she already is. We’ll just take him for a short ride and dump on a bench near the river. We’ve been watching this fat lump for a few nights. He’s been stalking the neighborhood. I think the treatment he’s gotten from the young lady will keep him away for a few days at least."

"Thank you for being so understanding."

Gigi’s victim was getting to his knees as he started to recover. Gigi spat in his face and kicked him squarely in the stomach. He fell forward in a heap. The two patrolman cuffed him and shoved into the back seat of the cruiser. (You do realize this was long before the creation of civilian complaint review boards.)

The younger patrolman took down some information for their log. "Excuse Miss Crichton," he said to Tenley in an apologetic tone. "It’s nothing official but I really am concerned about Regina’s well being. I would think it a privilege if I might stop by tomorrow afternoon on my own time and see how she’s making out."

"Of course officer. I think she would like it if you two even had lunch to together."

The patrolman blushed as he thanked Tenley. To Gigi he added, "I hope it’s all right if I stop by to spend a little time with you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Regina."

"Oh yes, please. That will be so neat. But only under one condition. You must call me Gigi." She kissed the embarrassed cop on the cheek. Her lips brushed the corner of his mouth as she turned away.

The official notation described an incident in which a young teen girl fought off an attacker possibly injuring him before he managed to flee.

 

The three sat at the kitchen as Kerry fussed at the stove heating water for hot chocolate. It had been an very eventful day especially for Gigi.

"I recognized him as soon as I got onto the street. No way in hell could he recognize me now that I’m who I was really meant to be. Still, he was looking at all the houses. I reckoned they were systematically searching for Kerry or me or the pair of us. No doubt he had to be put out commission on the spot. I turned the dust bin...trash can

on its side and rolled it at him. I stepped aside, hurled my weight against him so he tumbled over the can. Then, as you saw, I had at him with the lid! It was so much fun...I mean he’s looking up at this mere slip of girl who’s kicking his bloody arse back into last week."

"Not to mention the bonus you got in meeting a real man who wants to date you," added Kerry as she poured the hot water into the waiting cups.

 

Annie announced the phone call "for Miss Regina." Gigi’s face lit up, her eyes brightened when she recognized the voice of the young patrolman. "Lunch and a stroll? Love to...but I have to ask Tenley for permission. You know she’s in charge until her mum gets back from a business trip." Tenley smiled and nodded approval. "Yes, yes. It’s okay! Isn’t that so neat?"

"Go for a high school look...say around sixteen," Tenley directed Kerry. "Crinolines, saddle shoes, the works!"

Gigi kissed Tenley on the lips. "Thank you, thank you. This is just too neat!"

 

Gigi extended her leg straight out as she smoothed the stocking before snapping it to the garter belt. She had quickly learned to exult in the wonderfully satisfying ritual of femme dressing. It reinforced her feelings of attractiveness and gave her the smug sense of power that a girl realizes how vulnerable males are to their sensuousness. And Gigi knew, after knocking that oaf senseless last night, that she was doubly powerful! Her little girl slenderness belied the strength that remained from the years she spent as a boy. To be sure she hadn’t been a powerful boy, but she was surprisingly strong for the skinny teen age seductress she had become. Perhaps Mrs. Crichton would let her go to a gym for young ladies to become stronger still and study judo so she could punish those disgusting men who had led her astray, caused her to betray Kerry whom she should have loved and protected. Really, she reasoned. Kerry certainly didn’t me to protect her seeing how she dominated me, but that was okay! She helped me become the real me, the girl I am now.

All this ran through Gigi’s mind as she sat at her vanity table clad in her garter belt and stockings with only yellow cotton briefs covering her smooth skin. She applied her makeup with no help now. She admired her pretty face made prettier still by the cosmetics. Gigi slowly, vigorously brushed her hair until it shone. She pulled it back into a pony-tail and clasped a barrette over it. A smile crossed her face as she shook her to enjoy the sensation of her pony-tail flopping against her neck.

She chose a lightly padded training bra, closed the hooks at her waist, turned it right side around, put her arms through the straps, and leaned forward as she pulled the garment into place. She nestled her small but pretty breasts in the cups. Two small pads were slid into the cups. The effect was realistic and oh so very devastating!

No panty girdle today, she thought as she stepped into the crinolined petticoat. She buttoned the short sleeved broad cloth blouse, turned the collar up in the current style and fastened a short scarf or neckerchief around her throat. Crew socks over her pearl gray stockings before she laced the saddle shoes in place. Oops, almost forgot the circle skirt!

Gigi bounced down the stairs as the bell rang. "I’ll get it," she called out but it was too late. Annie had opened the door. "I’ve a date with Miss Regina," said the patrolman now in civilian clothes.

"Date...a date" That so appealed to Gigi’s ever growing narcissism. "Well hi," she greeted her date.

"Hello Regina. That name is so suited to you. You know it means queen in Latin."

Gigi’s heart started to pound anxiously. Did he read me, see me as a pathetic trannie? Is it all over with us before it starts?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her date. "I mean you’re so regal, so elegant, like a queen in a romantic novel."

"Well thanks, but I really want to be me and I really like being called Gigi better."

 

Mark, that was the cop’s name, had found a legal parking spot near the corner. The powder blue Chevy Impala appealed to Gigi. She leaned back as Mark headed the car through the Battery Tunnel and into Brooklyn. Gigi leaned back and rested her feet on the dashboard. Soon they were in Sheepshead Bay eating clams in a place called Joe’s Clam Bar on a street she had never heard of in a world she had never suspected existed after the horrors she experienced, back when she was a twenty year old guy called Ralph, as part of the smuggling operation.

After lunch they walked across the footbridge into Manhattan Beach, a wealthy mostly Jewish section of fine homes and restricted access. Mark pointed out the house where his family lived.

"I’m impressed," said Gigi as she held Mark’s arm. She looked up at Mark and opened her lips. He took the hint. Their lips met. Suddenly they were in an intense hug. Mark cupped Gigi’s cheeks through her skirt and petticoats. They pressed against each other, clung together as if being parted would mean the end of something wonderful that was yet to being!

Gigi slipped her arm through Mark’s. "Is this where you grew up?"

"Not really. I was already starting high school when my father started to make his money. That’s when we left our old neighborhood. I’ll drive through that area when I take you back home. I can’t take you into this house. We’re on the outs now."

"Oh dear. Sorry..."

"Don’t be. All to the good, really." There was a wistful quality to Mark’s statement. Gigi wondered if he really hoped things were different.

A short while later they paused in front of a rather comfortable Dutch colonial.

"This is what wasn’t good enough!" exclaimed Gigi. "Lot better than the row house I grew up in Swansea, in Wales you know. And that ball field across the street. Tennis courts and all. Must have been so neat to have that across the street."

"It was okay. I really wasn’t that into sports. Let’s go!" Mark cut off further conversation as he gunned the engine and headed back toward Manhattan.

They rode in silence. Mark took a different route back. As the car cruised through Prospect Park, he broke the silence. "Gigi, I’m sorry I snapped. I had a special friend. He was a year younger than I was. Rickie was what a lot of people would call a sissy, a faggot, a fairy. He liked girl things. He even liked wearing his mom’s heels around the house, stuff like that. I really thought he was nice. Some older kids were teasing him once so I jumped in and we kicked their butts. No one wanted to hang out with Ricki except me so I became the protector. Girls didn’t appeal to me but Ricki did..." Tears trickled down Mark’s cheeks. Gigi took a tissue from her purse and dabbed the tears away.

"Ricki started hanging around in the Village. He was taking dance lessons, letting his hair grow. He wanted to be a dancer in things like the Jewel Box Revue or Club 82. He was walking home one night when a bunch of shits attacked him. He probably hurt some of them. He died a few days later without regaining consciousness..."

A long pause as the car headed north toward the bridges that connected Brooklyn to Manhattan. "A waste of a gentle life...so I became a cop when I got out of the army. Tried like hell to get posted to the Village. I guess I want to protect guys like Ricki. I wasn’t there to protect him."

Gigi pressed Mark’s hand in her own. "That is so sad but so beautiful that you took to this work to honor Ricki’s memory." They paused at a light. Gigi leaned over and kissed Mark’s cheek. He turned his face to hers. Gigi realized how painful this must be just for Mark to tell this story. He kissed her lips. The light changed green. "I’ve got to get you home for dinner or they might think something’s not kosher."

"Can I see you tomorrow? I would love to take you to a nice restaurant and show you where I live. Brooklyn Heights." Mark blushed. "I didn’t mean for you come see my apartment so soon."

"Why not? I think it would be very romantic to have after dinner drinks in a handsome man’s apartment."

 

Mrs. Crichton had returned home. She was in her office talking with Mitch and Tenley. She beckoned to Gigi who joined them.

"The man you beat up last night was found dead in the river, an apparent suicide according to the tabloids. I’m certain he was murdered for failing in his task and being so badly beaten that the police had to intervene. Don’t feel guilty. He wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you although I doubt he recognized you.

"You did the right thing. I’m pleased at how well you handled him. You’re turning into a real little tom-boy." Mrs. Crichton smiled at Gigi. "And now there’s one less of them. to worry about."

Gigi smoother wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin atop her legs. Mitch stared at the expanse of stocking top, thigh and panty hem that she unveiled. Tenley elbowed him. "I’m really getting jealous," she whispered to her lover.

"What do you want, you shameless flirt?" asked Mrs. Crichton. Gigi explained that she spent the better part of the day with one of the patrolman who carted off the lout she had beaten up last night. "Darling Gigi...You really are a free to come and go as you please. We don’t want you to feel like a prisoner. You’ve more than proven yourself. I’ll ask Kerry to take you shopping for shoes and accessories so you can look your best tomorrow. A new dress is in order too!

"In return, I want you to work on something for me. The leader of that group we’re trying to breakup has a predilection for drag shows. He might be frequenting The 82 Club. It’ll be difficult but try to get your cop to take you a few times."

"Oh, I think I can do that. And I’m sure it won’t be so difficult at all." A wry and knowing smile illuminated Gigi’s comely features.

Tenley summoned the younger members of the household to the upstairs sitting room/study that belonged to her and Mitch. Gigi told the story of her day with Mark omitting any reference to Ricki. She waxed elated as she described the neighborhood where Mark lived as a child. "Wasn’t good enough for his folks but Kerry and I would have killed for that when we were little boys." Kerry poked her. "I mean little girls...children, what ever. And the most incredible athletic field. Mark called it the courts. You’ve never seen anything like this..."

"This place he called the courts, was it alongside a railroad trestle?"

Gigi nodded open mouthed in response to Tenley’s question. Kerry and Gigi looked puzzled when Tenley started giggling and Mitch dissolved in laughter.

"Stop laughing at me,’ railed Gigi. "It’s for real...How do you know it was next to a rail trestle?"

"We’re not teasing you. You’re really such a love. Mitch and I met there...Mitch let’s go back for a visit."

"Sure. I’ll bet Vinnie is still hanging out there."

"Great! Kerry, you come to. No reason for you to be the only one in this house who had never been to the courts."

The phone rang. It was Mark calling to say good night to his Regina.

 

The next afternoon Kerry and Tenley helped Gigi dress for her dinner with Mark. As they started up the stairs Mrs. Crichton spoke from the door of her. "Gigi, call if you’re going to spend the night. The operation we’re trying to break up isn’t based in Brooklyn Heights but we can’t be too careful. They would love to get their hands on you, make an example of you. We’re all very fond of you and we don’t want to put you at risk."

"Thanks for caring. Mrs. Crichton, I really do thank you for so many things but most of all for making me a part of your world and for helping me become what I really always wanted to be but was too scared to acknowledge."

 

Gigi showered while Kerry and Tenley laid out her things. Kerry wrapped her in a huge terry towel and rubbed her dry. Tenley knelt before this incredible girl with a cock and held the black panties as Gigi stepped into them. Her hair was brushed and styled into a classic French braid. A white open bottom all-in-one. Gigi had learned to make the ordinary, day to day act of putting on hose into a wildly erotic performance. Today was no different as she drew the pearl stockings over feet and rolled them over each leg. The two trannie girls were riveted, aroused as they watched in envy. Tenley now understood, although she could neither point out nor name the traits, why Mitch was so drawn to this new girl who easily managed to look younger than she really was.

A gauzy knee length empire dress in antique white with matching shoes gave Gigi an irresistible aura that was both out of a romance novel and as current as today.

Mark arrived looking every bit the man about town in his well tailored Brooks Brothers suit. He greeted Gigi by pressing her hand in his and pecking her cheek. Mark shook hands with Mrs. Crichton and complimented her on the attractiveness of the young ladies in her household. "But they do have a terrific example to live up to." Then he gallantly held Gigi’s cape-coat as she slipped it on. Annie opened the door and closed it behind them..

"Dresses rather expensively for a policeman," commented Mrs. Crichton. Kerry explained there was money in his family and although he and his father were not speaking his mother managed to send him generous gifts of money. "I see. I’ve checked him out. There is too much that doesn’t quite add up. Car is in his name as is the lease on his apartment. His shield number allowed us to check his police department personnel files. He is certainly the fellow whose photo is in the file. Military record is bland. A contact in the NYPD hierarchy tells me he’s under scrutiny. Too many connections, however tenuous, to crime scenes related to violent deaths of people in the world of bizarre or at best out of the mainstream sexual activity. Might be some sort of madman who and to that smuggling organization I’m interested in. I’m concerned that he’ll hurt her especially when he finds out she has a penis."

There was along pause as Tenley, Mitch, and Kerry looked back and forth in astounded concern. Mrs. Crichton spoke reassuringly. "Relax you lot. I would never put that girl in harm’s way. We’ve taken precautions. Lave it at that."

Tenley’s face took on a serious aspect. "Gigi’s become pretty insightful. Somehow I’m sure she wouldn’t take any chances with this Mark person if she weren’t certain of his intent and of her own safety. I think we were all impressed by her instinctive fighting ability when she beat that poor bastard the other night. She did take him by surprise and never gave him a chance. Still, we should start her on some strength training and some basic judo and boxing."

"Kerry, you’ll see to her training," responded Mrs. Crichton in approval. "I hinted at that to her the other day. She’ll be pleased. Her anger at her former comrades will motivate her.

"I can’t help dwelling on her immediate safety. There are too many things about this policeman that don’t fit, don’t match. I’m not comfortable at all. I’ve some calls to make."

 

Mark parked the car in the indoor garage near his apartment in Brooklyn Heights. He held the door for Gigi who extended one leg to the ground and gave Mark her hand to help her out. She made sure her skirt rode up but not too far. It was better to take it slowly until Mark was totally in love with her, wanted her more than anyone he ever wanted before letting him find out that she was not what she appeared to be. Too many glimpses of her panties would get him too anxious to see what’s in them.

They strolled arm in arm to a small restaurant down three steps from street level. A quiet table in a corner was ever so romantic. The host remarked, "Your new lady is the most beautiful yet." Gigi’s survival instinct was aroused. Mark had claimed he was unable to go out with anyone since Ricki’s death!

They studied the menu which clearly bespoke an Italian restaurant. "This is just too exotic for me," smiled Gigi. "I’m in your hands. Do order for me."

"Yes, you are in my hands," smiled Mark. There was something about the smile, about the tone that sent a shiver through Gigi. "Please get me my coat. I’m cold."

Gigi was careful not to drink during dinner. Mark insisted they go to his apartment after dinner for a drink. "I’ll call home so Mrs.Crichton won’t worry if I’m late."

"That can wait until we’re at my place."

"I need to use the facilities before we go. My time you know. It can be messy especially if one is wearing white."

Mark was not pleased. Gigi managed a quick call from the powder room.

Mark’s apartment occupied the third floor of a brownstone townhouse. It was well appointed. Gigi noticed the photos of an almost too slender blonde on the book shelves, on the desk, and through the open door of the bedroom. She remembered that she still was supposed to call home. Hopefully Mark hadn’t realized she had already called from the restaurant’s powder room.

"Tenley? Hi. Tell your mum. I’ll be late...Yes at Mark’s. In Brooklyn Heights. on Middagh Street. Right near the Brooklyn Bridge." Oh God, she thought, Please let Tenley get the location of this place. She was certain Mark wanted no one to know where she was.

The second call completed, Gigi picked up a photo from the desk. "Ricki?" she asked. Mark took the photo from her hand and put it back in its place. "Yes, my Ricki."

"She was every bit as beautiful as you said she was."

"And so very good and pure. She didn’t deserve to die when so many sluts go on living." A cold, terrifying edge crept into his voice.

"I’ve got to get to a chemists. I’m down to my last tampon."

"Gigi, you’re a liar! Girls like you don’t have periods. I was hoping we could find something special for a little while together. You might have been the one who could be good and pure like Ricki was. Then you would deserve to live. But I have to kill you now, tonight!"

 

Tenley hung up the phone and shouted for her mother. "Mum, we’ve got to move. Gigi is in danger. She bent over backwards to tell me where she is."

"You and Mitch take Kerry and head there as quickly as possible. I’ve been in touch with my contact in NYPD internal affairs. They’ve dispatched two cars to Mark’s residence. No time for details. Just get moving."

 

Gigi reached for another picture. She got the response she hoped for. "Don’t touch that with your filthy hand! Give it me." Smashed the picture straight into Mark’s face. The glass shattered cutting his face but not his eyes as Gigi hoped for. She ran to the front door but was foiled by the double cylinder lock.

Mark stared at her. He took a notebook from his desk and read a description of Gigi. "This is my log of the girls like you who didn’t deserve to live. Extensive material on all but you. Their clothing, their panties, their preferences in sex. It explains why they didn’t deserve to live when Ricki wasn’t allowed to live!... I wanted to find out more about you but you’re making me kill you right now!"

Mark advanced on her cautiously. He expected her to avoid him. Gigi ran right him. As he grabbed her waist, she yanked the pistol form his belt holster and hurled it at the closed window. The glass shattered as the pistol flew into the dark night. At least one other gun, his standard service revolver, remained somewhere in the apartment..

"Please Mark. I know I’m dead but let me love you just once before I die." He yanked her hair and pushed his face against hers. Gigi groped at his crotch. Her teeth clamped down on his mouth. As she locked her hand on his balls, she twisted violently! He yelped as blood flowed from his face. Gigi held tight to his balls and twisted repeatedly! Blinded with pain and rage, Mark struck out at her. Gigi ducked and flung a glass of whiskey into his eyes. Blinded and in pain he struck out wildly. Again she grabbed his balls. Her male foe was clearly losing the struggle. He twisted and attempted to wrap Gigi in a bear hug. She drove her head upward into his face. He bellowed as Gigi felt his nose crumble against her forehead. Blood spurted as Mark staggered back. Gigi caught the back of his head and pushed him forward. Her knee came up with lightning rapidity as Mark fell. The dull sound of his ribs giving way to Gigi’s knee was drowned out by the scream of pain from the soundly defeated Mark. He rolled onto his side as he fell.

Gigi was neither satisfied nor certain that Mark was safely out of the fray. She dropped down and brought her knee into his balls. He could scarcely breath. She stood over him and raised him up by his hair. "No, no. Enough, enough. Can’t you see I’m hurt?"

"Hurt? I’ve hardly begun to punish you." She whipped the back of her hand across his face. She found his handcuffs in the desk on her first try. Mark was soon cuffed to a pipe by both hands. Gigi continued to use his face as a punching bag. "I really am rather pissed that you were going to kill me," she taunted as her would be murderer slipped out of consciousness.

As she reached for the phone, Gigi was alarmed by the door opening. She dove under the desk. "Oh shit," murmured the exhausted trannie. It was the ringleader of the smuggling group recognize! With him was a decidedly European looking girl.

"What in the bloody hell has gone on here?"

Gigi knew she had to make it out the door before they relocked it. The notebook! She needed the notebook to convince anyone who would listen that Mark was a madman. Her hand reached over the desk and blindly groped for the notebook. She caught it in her hand and snatched it to her side.

Gigi crouched behind the desk like a sprinter. She darted at her former gang leader, headbutting him squarely in the crotch. He bellowed and doubled over. Gigi dashed out the door knocking the European girl against the second man as she passed. She yanked the door closed behind her as she bounded down the stairs. The European woman was close behind her with her skirt almost to her waist to allow her the freedom to run.

Gigi ducked behind the stairs as they hit the landing. She caught her pursuer in a hammer lock. "Don’t fuck girlie or you’re dead."

"No, I run away too. Very bad man. Rape me. Make me a whore."

Gigi shoved her down the stairs, jumped over her and ran out the front door to be greeted by Tenley and Mitch. An unmarked police car pulled up as a patrol car turned the corner, its lights flashing. Two plainclothes officers raced up the front stairs as one of the uniformed patrolmen cuffed attended to the fallen woman.

The apartment was empty except for the battered and half conscious Mark. "Get that crazy bitch!" he muttered to the detective who bent over him. She attacked me, surprised me, went ape before I could defend myself."

"If she did, she did a good thing. You really had it coming. I don’t have any use for a rogue cop and that’s you big time."

Gigi sat in the front seat of an unmarked car as a detective took down her statement. His partner sat in the back seat going through the notebook. "Miss, you’re a lucky young, young ..."

"Just say it. A lucky young lady. Don’t be so uptight," the detective seated next to Gigi admonished his partner. "If she put a rogue cop, a serial killer to boot, out of commission she can be whatever she wants."

"Yeah, and we’re not blowing her cover," assented his partner.

Gigi relaxed and started to cry. She kissed the detective nearest to her on the cheek. His partner bent over the seat. "Hey, what about me?" Gigi turned and kissed him lightly on the lips. He blushed.

There was a crash of glass as the crowd that had come out of neighboring houses yelled. Time slowed down as Mark seemed to float rather than plunge toward earth. He hit the tiny lawn at a bizarre angle. His eyes stared lifelessly, his head flopping weirdly. A uniformed lieutenant knelt over him, put his fingers to Mark’s neck. "No pulse, broken neck He did what he wanted to do. Killed himself by jumping out of the window."

The ringleader emerged a few minutes later, his hands cuffed behind him. "He was hiding on the roof. Tried to grab hold of a tree and climb down. Chickened out. Froze on the parapet."

The caravan of police vehicles drove to a building called "Brooklyn South." Lots of paper work. The two detectives kept their word to Gigi. She was listed in the documentation as Regina Jenkins, a twenty year old female, a British subject on a visitor’s visa.

The detective who had been in the back seat kept staring at Gigi in way that was neither mean nor mocking. "Hello," smiled Gigi. "Yes, Miss Jenkins. Here’s my card. Please call if you think of anything that may be useful. And I would deem it an honor if I could call you just to see how you’re feeling after the ordeal you’ve been through."

 

A few nights later Detective James J. Gleason, for that was his name, sat in a booth in a bar sipping a whiskey with his partner and mentor.

"Pete, this is weird. You know that guy in drag we covered for..."

"Hang on, Jimmy. A drag queen is like a comic exaggeration of a woman. Regina is more woman than most of the real girls, the ones who have a cunt. Okay?"

"Yeah, thanks. I needed to hear that. No, she’s no drag queen. I was just afraid of how you would react."

"No fear. You can hook up with a girl like that, marry her, live with her. You’re no queer for that. But I wouldn’t let any of our colleagues know about what she has in her panties. Let’s keep it our secret. Go for it. You can do a hell of a lot worse." He raised his glass. To you and Regina. Slainthe!" (pronounced slanj, a traditional Celtic toast meaning "To your health." Popular with Irish and Scots.)

 

Rosie listened to Mitch and Tenley tell the story of the recent adventure. She sat in the wing backed club chair next to the sitting room fire place. Kerry squeezed next to her. Rosie’s hand rested on Kerry’s stockinged knee. Kerry’s hand rested affectionately on Rosie’s shoulder. Gigi sat the long way in the window seat. Her feet rested on the cushion. Her knees slightly bent, she hugged her skirt to lower thighs in a quite proper manner. Only her eyes betrayed the sense of loneliness she felt. Rosie and Kerry had a thing between them. Tenley and Mitch were engaged to be married. As thrilled and as happy as she was with her new, her true identity Gigi felt displaced, remote.

Rosie spoke. "Great pals you guys are. You couldn’t wait until my next school break to have all that excitement." She laughed. "I would have been scared out of my mind. Gigi, you are so brave. Pretty tough too, the way I hear it."

"Not so brave. Survival is a powerful instinct when you are about to be murdered by a raving weirdo."

 

Mrs. Crichton sat in her office sharing a drink with Detective Inspector Carlson who had been her contact in the NYPD during the investigation. He had arranged for her to inventory and estimate the value of the antique objects recovered from the gang’s base of operations. Mrs. Crichton’s specialized skills enabled most of the pieces to be returned to their rightful places in museums, churches, and private collections. The fees more than amply compensated her for her time.. The arrangement worked out well.

 

Kerry walked into Gigi’s bedroom as the lonely girl furiously, even aggressively brushed her hair. "I’m so mad I could spit. I’m like the big heroine of this whole business, yeah right! And I’m left alone.

"I should know better after that nut job Mark almost killed me...but I wanted that detective, Gleason or whatever his name is, to call me more than once He really meant it when he said he just wanted to call to see if I’m okay. The shit!"

"Lighten up, Gigi. The shit is downstairs."

"Oh my God! Tell him I’ll be right down."

Gigi washed her face. She started down but realized she in her bra, panties and slip. She buttoned on a short sleeved blouse. She was tucking it into her navy pleated skirt as she bounded down the stairs.

Detective James J. Gleason, Jimmy to his friends, rose as Gigi stepped breathlessly into the room. He smiled warmly. "Hello, Regina. You didn’t have to rush on my account. I’ll wait all night for you." Gigi was about to deny that she had rushed downstairs but realized she was barefoot. The two looked at each other and burst into good natured laughter.

"Let’s go for a walk," proposed Jimmy. They walked east across twenty-third street, pausing at Madison Square park. They fed the pigeons some peanuts that Jimmy bought from a street vendor. Gigi was totally relaxed and totally comfortable with herself and with this tall, muscular plainclothes policeman.

The afternoon shadows spread as they sat and chatted. It was growing colder. Jimmy took off his jacket, draped it over Gigi’s shoulders and drew her to him by a strong arm around her tiny waist.

"Can I see you for dinner tomorrow? I promise there’ll be no sly tricks. I’ll pick you up at your house, I know a great Spanish place in the Chelsea Hotel on twenty-third. Then it’s back to your house. I promise no funny business."

Gigi paused and looked up into Jimmy’s sincere blue eyes.

"If you don’t like Spanish, there’s always the White Horse on Greenwich."

Gigi squeezed Jimmy’s arm in her own. "Which is more romantic?"

"El Quixote, the Spanish place."

 

The following Thursday Kerry again supervised Gigi’s dressing. A white silk panty under a black long leg all-in-one. The panties enhanced Gigi’s wonderfully sexy tush as they showed under the skin tight black spandex foundation garment. She folded the cuffs of the girdle up as she drew the sheer black nylons over her legs and fastened them in place. The cuffs were folded down to cover the garter snaps thus giving Gigi a flawlessly smooth line that went from her high arched foot to the top of her midsection. Basic opera pumps in suede.

Gigi held her arms up as Kerry slipped a basic black dress over her. The square neck and cap sleeves emphasized Gigi’s gracefully slender arms and her tiny but perfectly shaped tits. Kerry kissed her deeply. Their tongues probed each other’s throats as they mixed saliva. "Bloody fool that cop is if he can resist you," Kerry reassured Gigi.

Jimmy brought Kerry home by ten. Annie served them a pot of coffee and another of tea with some pastry. She wished them a pleasant evening and returned to the kitchen where she and Kerry watched television with Rosie. Suddenly they heard the front door slam. An instant later Gigi stormed into the kitchen. "Bloody hell! We were getting real snug, cozy, intimate if you like. Then he says, by way of warning, this might not work in the long run. He says what with him being Roman Catholic and me being C of E. his mother might be upset. Never you mind that I’m not what I’m taken to be. Oh no! That’s bloody not the issue! Might break his mother’s heart if he marries outside the Church. Bloody hell....Bog trotting Irish bastard! Really thought he cared about me. I sure attract the nut jobs of all kinds."

Kerry hugged her cousin who dissolved in tears. Rosie bit her hand to keep from laughing. Kerry gave her a stern look even as she hugged and comforted Gigi. Rosie, insouciant as ever, stuck her tongue out at Kerry. Rosie stuck her hand under Kerry’s skirt and traced the curved seam where the cotton crotch piece was sewn into her panties. Kerry wiggled her hips and tried to shake Rosie hand off her bottom. "I’ll attend to you later," Kerry whispered to Rosie as she guided the emotionally defeated Gigi up to her room. " I hope so," teased Rosie running her tongue over teeth and lips.

Kerry drew a hot bath for Gigi and sponged her back. Rosie redeemed herself with Kerry by bringing up a pot of to chocolate just as Gigi was being tucked into bed. Gigi, her eyes still teary, sipped the comfort beverage as Kerry sat on the edge of her bed and stroked her hair.

"Well, what does she expect?" Rosie spoke softly to Kerry as they closed the sleeping Gigi’s door behind them.

Gigi went about her role of house maid with quiet efficiency. When she wasn’t actively engaged in chores, she moped in her room. Her only light moments were when she was with Kerry and Rosie. "We’ve got raise her horizons above these louts she’s been attracting. Besides her gym and judo, we’ve got to get her into some high brow stuff." Kerry concurred with Rosie’s suggestion. They began taking Gigi to museums, to lectures in art and music appreciation.

"I really would love to see an opera," Gigi said one morning as she cleared the breakfast dishes.

"The opera doesn’t open until October," advised Kerry.

"I guess it’ll keep," said Gigi, once again frustrated.

Tenley stuck her head through the door aware of the delicate situation regarding Gigi’s dignity and even her emotional balance. "Let’s go to the Brooklyn Museum on Sunday. We can walk in the Botanic Gardens. They’re right next door. No discussion. We’ll all go together. One car. Mitch and me. You, Kerry, and Rosie. You guys have never been there but it’s a special place to Mitch and me from when we first were dating."

A mild spring Sunday found the quintet from Chelsea at the entrance to the Brooklyn Museum at opening time. They took in an exhibit of water color paintings. Mitch and Tenley were impressed by how much of her newly acquired culture Gigi was able to bring into the discussion of the paintings. The comparisons of style, composition, color, and subject that she was so facile in making was indeed impressive to her companions and to those other museum goers who overheard the impromptu lessons.

A sudden shower changed the plans for a walk in the Botanic Gardens. They opted for the free chamber music concert as an alternative.

They enjoyed the concert by a string orchestra. A rather attractive girl looked up at her handsome date. "Boring," was all she said. He squirmed embarrassed at his lady’s terse dismissal of an uninspired but acceptably pleasant concert.

"I know that voice," said Tenley. Mitch hesitated. "It’s Vinnie!" It was too late to catch Mitch’s old handball partner. He and his beautiful but vapid date were lost in the crowd.

Mitch and Tenley ran hand in hand through the rain to get the car. After collecting Kerry and Gigi they drove the Chinese restaurant where Mitch first introduced Tenley to tomato egg drop soup.

Rosie started to giggle. "What is so amusing now?" asked Mitch.

"Five’ll get you ten that if we go to the courts after we eat, we’ll find Vinnie."

Tenley intervened. "You’re on."

Kerry and Gigi looked on not quite understanding the jargon.

 

A couple of lithe, olive skinned girls batted a tennis ball back and forth against a wall. Two couples engaged in an impromptu doubles match an a tennis court. Some high school boys batted fungoes in the ebbing light. Tenley and Mitch sat on a bench in front of the grandstand. "We’ve got to set a date," Mitch said as he stared back in time to the moment Tenley first waved to him.

"Looks like I’m going to relieve Rosie of five dollars." The courts were deserted. Rosie was lecturing Kerry and Gigi on the social protocols of the courts. They laughed as she regaled them with the incident at the Avenue P handball courts, the one where the young Tenley yanked some jerk out of his car.

A few late hangers on showed up to sit on the benches near the grandstand and discuss the conquests of the weekend with their buddies. A Coupe de Ville pulled up. Vinnie got out. Rosie stuck her tongue out at Tenley.

Tenley and Mitch got up and hurried over to the handball court where Vinnie stood looking forlorn. "Holy smoke," he said as his faced brightened. "Blast from the past. Mitch, Mitch.’ He hugged his former buddy and slapped him on the back. "Jesus God, the English flower. More beautiful than ever.

"I never thought we would meet again. I mean after your family broke apart. What about Rosie? She was a just a kid....Jesus, Mary and Joseph! She’s right here and she’s even more beautiful than ever." He hugged Rosie, a great bear hug that lifted her off the floor and spun her around. It was all she could do to keep her skirt at a decent level!

"We tried to catch up with you at the museum concert this afternoon. You vanished in the crowd."

"You were there? Well, no loss. That bitch was great looking and great in the sack...ooops sorry ladies. But if she had a second brain it would be lonely in her head. You get my drift?" His eye fell on Gigi. "Ain’t you guys gonna introduce me to your lady friend here?"

"You know," Vinnie continued, "I got tickets for the Met Opera opening night but I’m done with her."

"This year’s opening is Madame Butterfly with Bjoerling and De Los Angeles. So neat," interjected Gigi.

"Marone! Not only is this lady beautiful but she’s got class."

 

There was a phone message for Gigi waiting when we got back to the house in Chelsea. Vinnie wanted to ask Gigi out.

"Never fear,’ I reassured Gigi. "Vinnie always suspected of batting from both sides of the plate. He’ll absolutely adore you; all the more so when he realizes you’ve got a cock."

On their first date Gigi learned that Vinnie had become a custom tailor like his father. He had taken over the family business which had always been lucrative but now he was hoping to expand it. Gigi held his hand across the dinner table. "Sounds like great fun. You know, doing what you love to do and making oodles of money doing it. I love sketching dresses and other gear. Loved it ever since I was a little b...child."

Vinnie looked at her quizzically after her little slip about being a little boy. Despite the slip or perhaps even because of it, he continued to call and to see her regularly.

One evening over dinner Vinnie was telling Gigi more about his business. "I did tell you before that I loved sketching little dresses and underthings and so on when I was a child. Might be fun to it again."

Vinnie extended his pocket memo pad and a mechanical pencil to her. "Feel free," he said supportively. "Impressive! Really," he added looking at her efforts. "I’m sending some real sketch pads to your house. You’re good. You have a good shot at making it as a designer."

"No, Vinnie. Don’t flatter me. I care for you enough already that you don’t have to flatter me."

"Gigi! This is for real." He seemed upset at the idea that Gigi might think he was less than sincere with her.

 

He held her coat, offered his hand to help her out of cars, pulled out her chair for her, rose when she got up to use the powder room, held doors open for her. The perfect gentleman. Things never progressed beyond long, lingering kisses in the vestibule. But they were wonderful kisses. The delicious tingle of tongue against tongue while Vinnie massaged her lower cheeks or fondled her breast. Gigi, in turn rubbed her groin against Vinnie’s stiffening cock or pressed her thigh between his legs. After one such long goodnight kiss, she encountered Rosie on the stairs. "Bloody hell," muttered Gigi to her friend.
"Did he try to go too far too quickly?"

"Damn it all, he hasn’t gone far enough! I just wish he would try something. I want him so badly."

Rosie, carefree as ever, giggled. "May be that you’ll have to be the aggressor!"

A few weeks later Vinnie brought Gigi home for Sunday dinner. His mother approved of the dark Welsh beauty and her "real class" accent. Vinnie’s sister and her husband came with their three kids. Gigi listened intently when Vinnie’s brother in law told them of his latest exploit; he was highly decorated lieutenant in the New York Fire Department. The children loved Gigi immediately. She taught them finger play and song games that were popular in Swansea but unknown in Brooklyn.

Gigi and Vinnie’s sister bonded in an instant. Salvina, or Sally as she preferred to be called, made Gigi an offer. "I won’t call you Regina if you don’t call me Salvina. We’re Gigi and Sally."

Later that evening Gigi and Vinnie were finally alone. They sat on the enclosed sunporch looking at the autumn moonlight filtering down through the lace work of tree branches. Vinnie drew Gigi to him. She leaned against his chest, closed her eyes and kissed him deeply. The explored each other’s mouths and souls for a long quiet time. Vinnie’s hand was under Gigi’s skirt. He caressed her firm tush and purred. His fingers slipped between her thighs and brushed over her panty crotch.

"Be sure you want me, Vinnie. Be sure. Do you realize you might be in for a shock? But I love you so much it hurts to be away from you even for an hour."

"No shock, sweetie. I figured that a girl who goes without her period as long as you do. has to be really special, have something extra."

Gigi giggled. "You mean you knew what I’m a trannie and you didn’t let on. You deceived me!" She tickled Vinnie who was already laughing at his little ‘deception.’

Catching Vinnie’s wrists in her strong hands, Gigi pushed this arms back and straddled his thighs. She bent over his face and probed his ear with her tongue. Vinnie squirmed and moaned as she kissed his neck. She let his arms go long enough to reach back and undo his trousers. She shoved them down, pulled his Jockey shorts aside and wrapped her hand around his cockhead. She shifted so that her mouth quickly replaced her hand on Vinnie’s cock. "No fair! You’re having all the fun," protested Vinnie. He kicked free of his trousers and lifted Gigi in his arms. They kissed deeply as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom.

Vinnie took Gigi to the Metropolitan Opera opening night. That was just the beginning. They spent a week in the Berkshires the following summer. Vinnie arranged a picnic on the grounds of Tanglewood prior to a concert. Gigi in a, gauzy flower print dress had pinned her hair in a loose bun. There was not the slightest hint of what she had been less than a year earlier. Not the least trace of the insecure pseudo-tough seaman remained. Gigi was a beautiful, confident, cultured and rather seductive young arty sophisticate. She stretched out languidly, gracefully on the bench as she sipped the Beaujolais Vinnie had ordered as part other picnic. "Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony is the feature on tonight’s program. One movement represents an outdoor wedding. Bet it was just like this."

"Couldn’t have been," smiled Vinnie. "The bride was nothing compared to you. You’re the mot beautiful creature God ever put on this earth." Gigi leaned forward and kissed him. It was then and there that Vinnie proposed and Gigi accepted.

The marriage wasn’t the only partnership they formed. The custom tailor is now a couturier! Designs by Gigi, tailoring by Vincenzo (aka Vinnie)! It really is a legal marriage since Gigi had the operation!

 

Rosie and Kerry have an inn along route 32 just north of New Hope, an artist’s colony on the Delaware River in Pennsylvania. They also operate an art gallery in New Hope.

 

Maria is still in the Navy. She spends her leave time with Mrs. Crichton. They share a bedroom. Enough said.

 

I’m an artists’ representative. I get around the better galleries of Manhattan and travel to England and "the Continent" quite regularly. Tenley and I have been married for some time now. She doesn’t travel with me as much as she used. You see, she likes looking after those two little blond girls we’ve adopted. Besides, she runs the investigative arm of her mum’s business. Tenley Fiorenza, private investigator. Odd ring to it, hey what? But then again, we’ve traveled from the courts to a delightfully exotic world peopled with bizarrely beautiful ladies. And along the way we created Gigi!

It’s been a fun journey from the courts.

 

Mardee Louise Prynne

 

 

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© 2001 by Mardee Louise Prynne. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.