The Girls-Only Club

by Pamela

 

Chapter 13

 

Later, everyone was standing outside in the pleasant late afternoon air deciding who would go with whom to the church. Juergan announced that, in as much as he drove a two seat TR6 sports car, he had room for just one passenger, and would Pamela like to go with him? Blake was pleased at the attention and agreed, but not before the other girls teased him about being Juergan's 'date.'

Huddled together out of earshot of Juergan or the other men, the Girls-Only Club members whispered among themselves.

"Don't let Juergan be the next man to get the better of you Pamela!" Karen said.

"Don't you worry, I won't let him touch me!" Blake said.

"Yeah right! Just don't let him park the car anywhere except at the church!"

"Karen, I've decided to not let anybody take advantage of me, and I mean it. Only when I'm in love will I let a boy touch me, and then he had better love me back!"

"C'mon girls you can trust Pamela with me!" Juergan called out, as if he was reading their minds, and then walked over and led Blake by the hand up the block to his car. He held the door open for Blake while he gracefully put his bottom down on the seat and then swung his legs in and waited for Juergan to close the door. Juergan ran around to the drivers side and got in.

"I hope you won't mind the wind," he said.

"I don't know, I've never ridden in a sports car before. It may mess up my hair a bit, but I guess I can just brush it out when we get to the church."

"That's what I like, a girl who's a good sport!."

He started the engine and pulled out into the road following the other cars to the church. Blake sat quietly afraid to give Juergan any indication that he was available as a date. After a few minutes, Juergan turned the radio on. As the sound came up, Blake heard an aria from some opera was being sung. Juergan quickly changed the channel to a rock and roll station.

"Wasn't that classical music?" Blake asked.

"Yes, I guess it was."

"You can listen to it if you want to Juergan."

"Really? I was afraid that you would find me old fashioned."

Blake was amazed that Juergan would be so self-conscious. "Juergan, you don't have to pretend you're someone else for my benefit."

"You mean you don't mind my liking opera? That's fantastic Pamela. You can't imagine how much Brad and the other guys would tease me if they knew I liked it."

Juergan switched the station back, and they rode on listening to the beautiful singing. Blake asked, ""What opera is playing?"

"Its Don Giovanni by Mozart. And its Cecilia Bartoli singing."

Juergan talked on about different singers and operas he had heard. He felt strongly that the "Three Tenors" phenomenon showed just how sorry the opera scene had become, since none of these three could hold a candle to such greats as Franco Corelli and James King from just a few years back. "I've never met a girl like you before Pamela. I mean one with whom I could feel so natural. To be able to talk about music with someone and not be laughed at, is so wonderful. I guess I'm getting carried away a bit. I've only known you for a couple of hours, but I guess I just want to say that you're special." Juergan blushed thinking about what he had said and became tongue tied and couldn't continue.

Blake sensing his embarrassment thought to soothe him, "thank you for saying that Juergan. Thats very kind of you." He decided that he wouldn't say more, even thought he was deeply moved by what Juergan had said. He wanted to do what a real girl would do, and he was afraid to say too much. Better to let Juergan feel a little awkward then to completely reassure him.

They had reached the church and Juergan parked the car at the end of the parking lot away from the other cars. "We have a few minutes before we have to join everyone," Juergan said. He looked over at Blake and said, "I think your awfully pretty Pamela." Blake forced himself to keep looking straight ahead through the windshield. His heart was racing as he anticipated that Juergan was going to try something with him. It would be nice to kiss him, Blake thought, but vetoed the idea immediately. I must not give in, he thought.

He turned his head toward Juergan and, smiling, said, "I think we had better go in." Juergan smiled back, and then got out to open the door for Blake.

 

The rehearsal went along smoothly. Blake and Juergan formed the fifth pair to walk down the aisle. Behind them was Amy and her escort, and then Mrs. O'Connor, Brad's parents and then the bride. Since Beth's father was deceased, an old and dear friend of the family, whom Beth and Kathy had always called "Uncle Frank," took over the duty of escorting Beth down the aisle.

As much as Blake enjoyed his walk down the aisle holding onto Juergan's forearm, it would be a thousand times more exciting when he got to do it wearing his bridesmaid dress. His excitement turned to a sudden overpowering panic, however, when he realized that the hundreds of guests filling the church would be watching his every step. He couldn't go through with it! He would have to tell Mrs. O'Connor to find someone else. He was about to run to her when he glanced at Juergan and their eyes met. He realized that Juergan would be with him every step of the way, and there was no reason to be afraid. After all Juergan would hold onto and comfort him if he should become faint with fear.

At the end of the aisle he had to walk up two small steps to the dais where he would join Penny and Karen on the right side of the bride and groom. He would be facing the entire congregation at that point and he again started to feel panicky. But Karen took his hand as soon as Juergan brought him up to his spot on the stage and he again felt soothed. "Promise me you'll hold my hand Saturday!" Blake whispered to Karen and she said, "of course I will Pam. Don't worry!"

 

Juergan wanted to sit next to Blake at the rehearsal dinner, but Blake said that all the girls needed to sit together. "I'm sorry Juergan, but you'll still have some dances with me at the wedding!"

"I'll be happy to drive you home after the dinner."

"You can drive me back to Kathy's house. I have some things to do there before I can go home."

"I'll wait."

"Oh, no Juergan, its really all right. My mom will come get me later."

 

The dinner was a lot of fun. Blake especially liked joking with the other girls about the different attributes of their escorts. Blake kept secret some of his discoveries about Juergan, like his love of opera, since he didn't want to be the cause of the other boys finding out. It was nice having a small secret about a boy; it made for a bit of intimacy, a bond between them.

Blake sat silently during the ride back to Kathy's place, letting Juergan tell him about himself. When they arrived at their destination, Juergan parked the car a few houses up the block and they sat in the darkened car. Juergan took Blake's hand and held it. "I really like you Pamela."

"Thank you, Juergan."

"Would you mind if I kissed you good-bye?" While he said this he put his arm around Blake's shoulder and leaned toward him.

Not knowing what a girl should say in answer to such a question, Blake hesitated and then said, "we barely know each other."

 

Juergan gently turned Blake's face toward his own, and Blake felt his hot breath as he moved his lips towards his. Blake smiled and turned his face away and looked down. "Juergan, I really do like you, but I don't think I'm ready for this yet. We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other better later on." Blake couldn't believe his courage in being able to say this. Inwardly, he felt ecstatic, liked he finally was able to reach a level of self-confidence like the other club members. He knew that it would be nice to kiss Juergan but it would have to wait until the right time.

Juergan smiled at Blake and moved away. "I'm sorry, Pamela. I'm not that sort of guy, its just that I've never met a girl like you before. Just to know that you like me is good enough." With that he got out of the car and walked around to Blake's side to escort him up the block to Kathy's house.

 

Mrs. O'Connor drove Blake back home after he had changed out of his clothes. His mom and dad asked him several questions about the rehearsal and dinner which he answered cheerfully. When he was done he went upstairs to take a shower. He felt giddy with excitement at the thought that there were just three more nights until the big day. "What a glorious wedding it will be," he said to himself. He imagined all the girls together in their dresses, the photographer shooting their pictures, dancing with the boys and especially some time with Juergan so he could get to know him better.

After entering the bathroom, he was about to start the water running for his shower when his mother knocked on the door calling "I've got a clean towel for you."

"Just a minute," he answered, and wrapped his old towel around his waist while opening the door for his mom. She was holding a a pile of freshly laundered towels which she proceeded to place on the racks in the bathroom.

"Mom, I can't wait for the wedding, its going to be so much fun."

"I'm sure it is. I just love weddings myself. No matter how many times I've gone, I still weep when the bride says her vows."

"Have you ever been a bridesmaid?"

"Yes, a couple of times, when two of my best friends were getting married." Blake tried to imagine his mother as a young girl at these weddings. From the pictures he had seen of her as a youth, she must have been very beautiful. She had gained a little weight since then, but she was still a very attractive woman. Today she was wearing a simple yellow cotton house dress, one that he had seen her wear a hundred times before. Her large breasts reminded him of the D cup bras he had folded in the laundry and which she must be wearing right now under her dress. He wondered what size her bras were back when she was a bridesmaid.

"Did you have to wear a special dress?"

"Yes. Each of my friends had picked out a whole color scheme for the bridesmaids and the flower girls."

"I wish I could have been at yours and dads wedding," Blake said impulsively, and then started to laugh when he realized how ridiculous this sounded. His mom joined in the laughter, "I guess at least half of you was there! I mean the egg part." They laughed together at this while looking at each other in the large wall mirror.

After a minute, Blake could see his mother's smile begin to fade and then drop rapidly into a frown. Blake had the sense that something was wrong. Her faced finally formed a bewildered expression he had never seen before.

"What's the matter mom?" Blake asked, his eyes racing around the room to see if he had accidentally left a bra or panties lying about. But he then remembered that he had carefully tucked them away in his room before going to the bathroom.

His mother seemed to be starring at the side of his chest and he looked at himself in the mirror to see what she was seeing. He didn't notice anything unusual until his mother started to say in a very quiet voice, "you've been wearing a bra."

The words fell into Blake's ear like lead ingots. An intense hot feeling shot through his face and chest. The scene was unreal and he wasn't sure she had really said it, but the expression on her face kept reminding him of the awful sickening reality of her words.

 

"You were wearing a bra, weren't you? I don't understand." She was pointing now at his chest and he looked down and noticed the presence of a perfectly well defined red indentation where the bra he had been wearing all day had been pressed tight against his skin. The marks were so clear, that one could see the pattern of lace on the elastic straps.

"Mom," he tried to say.

She looked up at him, and he saw her expression turning to sadness or anger and he had the impression that tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Where is the bra?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"I'm sorry mom. I didn't want you to know. Mom,.."

"Where is the bra?" she interrupted him.

"Its in my room." Blake was terrified of what she might say or do. "Look mom please let me explain."

"Where did you get it?"

"I bought it mom. Let me..."

"Where did you buy it?"

"At the mall. Mom, you've got to let me.." She wasn't listening to him and his voice trailed off.

"You were wearing a bra at the rehearsal? Did everyone know it?"

Blake's mind raced to decide whether he should lie or not. Once he started to lie he would have to tell a thousand lies. On the other hand, the truth could mean the end of the wedding for him, the end of his membership in the Girls-Only Club, the end of his friendships with Amy, Karen, Penny, Kathy and Janet. While he hesitated, his mom said, "I see, Blake, everyone knew."

Defeated, she sat down on the closed toilet seat and put her head in her hands. With an evident cry in her voice she asked, "how did they all know?"

"Mom, I'm so scared to tell you. Please don't feel bad."

"Blake, you have no idea how much this hurts. Just tell me."

"Mom, I was dressed as a girl at the rehearsal and the dinner. You see, I've become a girl, I guess." His words sounded phony and kind of silly.

His mother looked up at him with tears on her cheeks. "You've got other clothes? What else? I don't understand."

"Mom, I'm sorry, but I have a bunch of dresses and things. I like to wear them."

"What kind of horrible sickness has affected you?" she said with a controlled cold anger now rising up in her voice.

"Mom, I'm not sick, please don't.."

"Is it those girls you hang out with lately? Have they been dressing you as their little sissy?" her voice was like steel now.

"Mom, don't.."

"How did they twist you around so? I though you had so much pride."

"Mom, please don't talk about them like that. They didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do."

"Is that Mrs. O'Connor in on this?"

"Mom, she knows about it, but I wouldn't let her tell you about it. Its all my fault."

Her face suddenly sprang alive, and she said, "so you're not a groom at the wedding? You a bridesmaid?!?" She nearly yelled this out, and Blake wanted to beg her to be quiet, lest his dad or someone else hear the commotion. But she then said, "your father must never know. You hear me Blake your father must never know."

"I know mom, I won't tell him."

"You're going to never do this again, Blake. I want you to give me all your girls clothes and I will get rid of them. I want you to call up Mrs. O'Connor and tell her that you can't be in the wedding. If you don't, I'll have her in court and hopefully behind bars where she belongs."

He had never ever seen his mom filled with such anger. All his fantasies that she would love and accept him as Pamela now seemed like foolish dreams. The hurt and pain in him was so intense that he held his sides and bent over. He began to cry like he had never cried since he was a small baby. Hysterical, uncontrollable tears.

His mother now watched him with an angry stare. His nose was running and he reached for a tissue to blow it. He forced out the words, "mommy, I never wanted to hurt you, but I am a girl."

She said nothing. He continued, "Please don't do anything to Mrs. O'Connor and the girls. They are the only friends I ever had. I love them, mom."

"How can you love people who humiliated you? Who turned you into a little pervert?"

"I'm not a pervert, mom! I just am a girl who happened to be born with a boys body."

"Nonsense."

"Mom, for years and years I wanted to be a girl, I mean I knew I was a girl. Its just that until I met the girls in the club, I hadn't been able to know it consciously. They helped me see that I already had the personality of a girl. It explained so much to me: why I could never really get along with the boys, why I never really like to play sports, why I always loved pretty things."

"Don't you realize that they are all laughing at you Blake? How can you be so naive?"

The passion in her voice was so strong that Blake suddenly found himself thinking that she might be right. His mind raced back to the first meeting of the Girls-Only Club, and his initial feeling that it was all a joke. Maybe in their special session while he waited downstairs they plotted the whole thing as a game, as a fun activity of the club. After all, the girls were so pretty and popular and he had never spent any time with them before. A crushing weight of depression began to sink onto his shoulders. The thought that the entire eighth grade girls were laughing at him was too much to bear. But then what about the adults who knew his secret and especially Mrs. O'Connor? There was no way he misjudged her. How could he have?

"Mom, Mrs. O'Connor would never allow the girls to humiliate me!"

"Your Mrs. O'Connor is one very sick woman and I'm afraid that I'm going to have to give her a piece of my mind!"

"I beg you to leave her out of this!"

"Now come with me to your room and show me your bras."

Having no other choice, Blake reluctantly followed her to his bedroom, where he gave her the bra and panties he had been wearing that day. The shock on her face when he actually produced them from the back of his underwear drawer, pained him even more. She held the clothes with obvious disgust.

"Where is everything else?"

"Up in the attic I have some more bras." He led her up the stairs to the chest where he had his whole collection. She gasped with surprise at the assortment of clothes.

"Oh God, Blake. Look at all these bras and panties. And girdles! Jesus Blake. How could you be wearing girdles!"

"Mom, you wear girdles, so I wanted to feel closer to you by wearing them also."

The statement touched his mother and she shook her head. In a softer tone she said, "in a sick sort of way that is flattering, but girls things are girls things and boys things are boys. You are a boy and you'll always have to face up to that fact. There are many ways to be close to me without dressing like me! Where have I failed you that you can think such strange thoughts?"

She was talking to herself out loud and didn't listen to Blake's protestations.

"Look at this nightie. How could you wear such a frilly thing? Tomorrow after your father leaves for work, I'm going to get all this stuff and put it out in the trash." Hearing this Blake began crying again, but his mother ignored him saying, "what about the dresses?"

"They're all at Kathy's house."

"OK, wait here while I get the phone." His mom left to find the portable phone and was back in a minute. "Now, I'm going to call Mrs. O'Connor and have this whole thing about you being in the wedding canceled."

"Please don't call, mommy!" Blake sobbed, but it did no good.

After he gave her the phone number she dialed while glowering at Blake. After exchanging a curt greeting with Mrs. O'Connor, Blake heard her say, "I've found out everything about Blake pretending to be a girl and I've decided that I won't try and have you arrested, on condition that you promise to never ever see Blake again, and most specifically to never let him have the girls clothes he left in your house or have any contact with the girls in the club."

Blake couldn't hear what Mrs. O'Connor was saying but a heated discussion ensued between the two women. Mostly Mrs. O'Connor was talking until finally Blake's mom turned to him and said, "I have been persuaded by Mrs. O'Connor to meet with her right now to discuss the situation. Its best that you come along with me, so get dressed and we'll leave. We're going to meet her for some tea at L'Bateau Ivre." This was a charming dessert place downtown. Blake raced to get his clothes on and in a minute they were headed to the rendezvous.

 

The two women sat facing each other across the square table where the hostess had seated them, while Blake sat between them. Mrs. O'Connor could see that Blake's eyes were puffy from all his crying and she tried to give him whatever silent reassurance she could without raising the anger of his mom. The two women made a striking pair: both carried themselves with confidence matching the seriousness of the occasion.

"Look, I'm very glad that you agreed to come," Mrs. O'Connor started. "You are very lucky to have such a truly wonderful son like Blake." Blake's mom gave a slight smirk at the reference to him as her "son." Mrs. O'Connor picked up on that but continued, "I know that you find that ridiculous coming from me in view of all that you have just found out about Blake wanting to be, or in fact, actually seeing himself as a girl. But in spite of anything else that might be said, I really do believe that about him. Since he has come into my life, I have been cheered everyday thinking about how much he has developed into the person he really believes he is. Now let me make it clear to you that at the start my first reaction to his being dressed as a girl was exactly like yours. In fact, you remember that time I called to say that Blake was staying for dinner?" Blake's mom nodded her head, "well, I originally was calling to tell you that I had found him wearing a dress in Kathy's room."

"Well why in heavens name didn't you stop the whole thing right then and there? It would have been so much more honorable than encouraging Blake's public humiliation and debasement."

Mrs. O'Connor glanced at Blake who was hanging onto every word of the conversation. "You know, a person's first impulse is not necessarily always the best. The girls in the club, in fact, had seen something in Blake which everyone else had missed, and that was that if you just took away his male appearance, then he was a girl, and I mean a truly effeminate, very delicate girl. The truth of that hit me while I was just about to tell you what I had discovered. In a flash I saw the little girl in Blake yearning to be born. If you could have seen the happiness in his face while wearing the dress - you know it is the hopelessly feminine bridesmaid dress that he was to wear to the wedding."

Blake's mom interrupted, "Bridesmaid dress! So, Blake, that's what all that talk of yours was about!"

"Mom, I was trying to get close to you pretending I was your daughter."

"But you're not my daughter, and I don't want you talking like that!" Looking up at Mrs. O'Connor, she continued, "Mrs. O'Connor, I don't know where this conversation is going. You claim to see a girl in my son. I'm sorry to contradict you, but I see a boy in my son. What's more, if I wasn't as nice a person as I am, I would take you to court for the way you have acted on your perverted ideas about Blake." She was starting to get angry again and Blake's spirit began to sink.

"I understand that you're very upset about Blake," Mrs. O'Connor said as gently as possible, "but as hard as it is for you to understand right now, I also love and care about him, and my actions are born purely as a result of affection."

"Mrs. O'Connor, this all sounds so sick to me. To even have to discuss whether or not he is a boy. And to say that it is an act of love to dress Blake as a little sissy, to train him how to wear bras and girdles, to publicly display him as a bridesmaid in a frilly pink dress. Its incredible. Let's go Blake!" she said and began to rise.

"Wait one more minute, please" Mrs. O'Connor said desperately as she put her hand on Blake's mom's arm and looked imploringly into her eyes. A tear had formed in Mrs. O'Connor's eye which touched Blake's mom in a strange way, so she let her self sit down again, but just on the edge of the chair, as if she were about to leave.

"You know, I've raised two daughters myself," Mrs. O'Connor said with a slight sound of crying in her voice, "and I think I know the behaviors and attitudes of young girls very well. Especially about those little impulses girls have which make them girls, I mean, makes them feminine and not masculine."

"Mrs. O'Connor, I've raise two girls myself, and two boys also!"

"Then you know very well indeed that girls interact differently among themselves than boys. They are more social, less competitive; often times they want to nurture babies and play with make-up and dress up in mommy's clothes. I have seen Kathy and Beth when they got their first period, their first nylons, their first heels. I remember how proud they were to wear their first bras and how they walked around for weeks making a point of thrusting out their chests to let the world know that they had become women! I bet that both of us can remember when we got our first bras and little did we know how big we were going to get!"

Mrs. O'Connor chuckled a little at the thought and Blake looking back and forth between the two women could see that his mom let out a tiny smile also.

"After all we're both D cups now and I for one had no idea where I would end up when they started growing!" Blake looked at Mrs. O'Connor's large chest and then at his mom's and wished he could be like them. He prayed that he would be able to confide that to his mom someday.

"I also remember when Kathy and Beth first got interested in boys and the fantasies they had about them. They made a point of wearing just the right dress or jeans each day, and learned how best to style their hair and put on make-up. When I think about all these things that Kathy and Beth went through, I have to say that I have seen them all in Blake, and he acted no differently than either of my daughters."

"But I have never seen him like that," Blake's mom interjected impatiently.

"I'm afraid to say that that isn't the case," Mrs. O'Connor said contradicting her.

"What in tarnation do you mean!" Blake's mom said sharply.

"Do you remember the day we met in the bra department at Lord and Taylor department store?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, there was a young lady there, of whom you said, and I think its just about a direct quote: 'That's a very pretty bra you have on young lady. You look beautiful in it. How precious you are... it's so refreshing to meet a shy and modest girl. You have such a pretty young body and you look so good in that bra. I wish my younger daughter would only act as feminine as you!'"

"Well, I do remember meeting that very lovely young lady. I believe that Pamela was her name, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Pamela was the name we had given her." Blake's mom was puzzled as to her meaning. "Don't you see that that supposed young lady was Blake!!!!"

Blake's mom seemed to turn to stone as the full meaning of the words registered in her mind. She closed her eyes and then slowly slunk back fully into her seat like she'd been hit by a bullet and were dying. Her hand came up to hold her head and she rested an elbow on the table. Blake stared at her with eyes wide open and then glanced at Mrs. O'Connor who's eyes were now flooding with tears.

The waitress came and asked if they wanted more tea and Mrs. O'Connor said to pour them all a new cup. Blake saw a tear drop roll out of his mom's eye and then heard her sniffle a bit. From deep inside her a very tired and hoarse voice said, "so, that was my little Blake." She turned to look at him, and her gaze was filled with astonishment and tears.

Taking a big chance, Blake reached across the table to touch his mom's hand and said, "mom, I'm Pamela and I so desperately want to be your daughter. Can we be mother and daughter?"

She didn't answer, and Blake continued, "looking back, mom, though I didn't really know it consciously, I guess I've wanted to be a girl for as long as I can remember. Do you remember when I was in kindergarten and the kids put on a show for the parents? The girls had to do the Can-Can and they wore beautiful pink crepe paper skirts, with dozens of layers? The boys had to do the Mexican hat dance in cowboy costumes. I remember being very jealous of the girls. I wanted to wear a skirt and dance with them, but I couldn't. The next best thing was I got to play after school with one of the girls in my class, I think her name was Betty, and she let me try on the skirt one day in her bedroom. I remember jumping around and pretending that I could do the Can-Can. Later on, after I saw the movie "The Parent Trap" I fell in love with Hayley Mills and I wanted to be her. I remember feeling very embarrassed by that. I mean all my friends were fantasizing about being different baseball stars, while all I wanted to be was her."

"I'll bet millions of young girls wanted to be her," Mrs. O'Connor said.

Wearily, Blake's mom said, "Mrs. O'Connor, I'm sorry for the mean things I said. You understand don't you?"

"Of course, I do."

"Blake, you'll have to give me time to adjust, you know this is such a shock to me. But, if nothing else, a mother always wants her children to be happy, and I am willing to do what I can for you. If becoming a girl will make you feel natural and complete, then I guess I will learn to love you as that, as my daughter. Of course, its not just me that counts here, and you should be warned that your father will not take this like me. He will rage and he will storm and eventually, when he sees there is no hope, he'll probably turn his back to you. Your father might very well never love you again."

Both happy and sad at his mother's conciliatory speech, Blake decided to just concentrate on the positive. He jumped up and gave her a tearful hug of joy. "Mom, I've never been so happy about anything in my life. I know this is hard for you but I'll make you sure that you did the right thing." He sat down again and took the hand of each of the ladies and held them. Mrs. O'Connor then took the hand of Blake's mom and the three of them had a small communion together, thankful that everything had worked out OK.

The waitress came with the tea and the special moment ended. "Mom, I wish you could see me in my bridesmaid dress," Blake said.

"Of course the dress is yours to keep after the wedding" Mrs. O'Connor said, "you'll be able to model it for her any time."

"I'm not sure I could handle it right now, Blake. Seeing you in dresses will be a hard adjustment. You have given me the terrible duty of letting your father know about it. I can't let you tell him, since he will need some time to get over his anger before he sees you. Anyway, have you thought about your future as a woman? I mean what about your penis, honey? Will you get an operation?"

"I don't know, mom. I've thought a lot about it, like if I should live as a true girl and maybe marry a man, or else live without surgery and marry a woman, if I could find a woman to love me like that. The one thing I do know for sure is that I want to have babies. I really want to be a mom one day."

"How could you ever become a mom? Do you mean adopt a baby?"

"Well that is possible. I was also thinking that if I married a woman she could have the baby and then I could be the mother."

"How sad, Blake, that you'll never have a normal life. This all sounds so complicated and unrealistic. A woman like you describe would be very hard to find. And if you loved a man, everyone would consider you gay and it is hard to imagine you could get a baby to adopt."

"Its still better than me trying to be a man when I'm not. Its like even right now I feel naked without a bra on. And I'm wearing boys underwear for the first time in weeks and it seems so wrong to me. I really like knowing I have something pretty on, something lacy and soft. Then I feel OK."

"Blake, you sound like a much younger girl than you are chronologically. I hope that you'll be able to mature emotionally and become a true woman. For example, while women do enjoy feeling pretty, and they like pretty clothes, its not like a major obsession with them. They aren't always thinking about their bras, and I'm sorry to say, if a woman was as flat as you, she might very well not bother with a bra, and she wouldn't even miss it in the slightest!"

"But lots of woman who have small breasts wear padded bras, or even have surgery to get bigger. That's how I feel mom."

"I suppose so. How big a bust do you want?"

"Well, so far the girls have given me some A cup artificial breasts, and while I like them a lot, I really do want to have at least a B cup size or maybe even a C cup, you know like Janice. I mean I want them to be real breasts. I would love to have surgery, I guess. "

They chatted some more until Blake excused himself to go to the restroom. When he was gone, his mother said, "well, I guess this will eventually solve one of the nagging problems in our family."

"What do you mean?"

"Blake's sister Ann has become quite the body builder. She gave us a display of strength the other day that was staggering. She can lift over a hundred pounds."

"Incredible!"

"Yes, but poor Blake has become an object of ridicule since he can't keep up with her. Imagine being a boy and having your younger sister be stronger than you! But now I can see clearly what has happened. By some odd twist of fate, Ann really wants to be a man while Blake wants to be a girl. I don't see how this all happened since Barry and Janice turned out so perfectly!"

She continued after sipping some tea, "once Ann finds out that Blake wants to be a girl, and that I tolerate it, she's going to want to be treated like a boy! Her father already treats her like one and I doubt that he's the slightest bit upset about it!"

"Thats a double standard."

"You're right, Mrs. O'Connor, you think that it would be OK for boys who want to be girls to just be allowed to be girls. The more I think about it the more I see how feminine Blake has been. He likes helping out with the dishes and chatting with me and his sister Janice. He even volunteered to wash Janice's lingerie!"

"I'm sorry you've missed some of the important milestones in her growing up. You don't mind my referring to Blake as a 'her'?"

"It seems strange but I guess it is necessary. So I take it she wants to be called Pamela?"

"Yes, somehow the girls in the club decided on that name. Blake seemed to them to be a Pamela, whatever that means."

"You took her shopping for a complete wardrobe?"

"Yes. I'm sorry that we lied to you, but we obviously couldn't tell you what was going on. We spent a delightful day at the mall and then at a lingerie shop, picking out clothes."

"I saw that you got her a whole bunch of girdles. Isn't that unusual for such a young girl?"

"Pamela insisted. She really loves them. She and the other girls had an hysterical time trying them on. You should have seen them. You know she likes them because you wear them."

"God knows that I wish I didn't have to!" and the two women laughed. "I should pay you for all the clothes you bought."

"Absolutely not! It was my treat."

"Is there anything else she really needs?"

"You can ask her, but I think she needs some everyday kind of pantyhose, so she doesn't have to wear the expensive department store kind every day."

Blake came back and sat down hearing the last part of the sentence. "Who are you talking about?"

"About you," his mother said. "If you are going to be one of my daughters, then I'm going to have to make sure you have everything a young lady needs to have. Mrs. O'Connor says that you need some more pantyhose. What else? Do you have enough panties and bras? And what about slips?"

"Gosh, mom, I think I have enough of those, at least as much as Janice does. There are a million other things I would love to have though! Like I have only the one nightie you saw and no pajamas. I don't have any slippers and I really only have a few dresses and skirts."

"Now you really are sounding like a girl," Mrs. O'Connor said. "No matter how many skirts or dresses Kathy has, she always has her eyes on another one."

"Janice is the same way, though I have never had any luck getting Ann to wear a dress."

"Mom, I also haven't any jewelry. I really want a necklace and a bracelet to wear. Oh, and can I get my ears pierced!"

"I suppose you can, but all this will have to wait until your dad is told, and I can't promise you when I'll summon up the courage to do that. It had better wait until after the wedding, since I'm sure he would forbid you to go. In fact, I suppose we need to plan when you will make the transition to Pamela full time. Certainly, since there is only a couple of weeks of school left, it would be best for you to reappear next fall as Pamela, so perhaps at the start of the summer would be a good time? What do you think?"

"That would be wonderful," Blake said hesitatingly, while inwardly feeling a sudden stab of fear at making such a complete change in his life.

"What's a matter?" his mom asked.

"I guess the thought of actually being able to be Pamela all the time is a bit scary."

"There would be no turning back," his mom said.

"I know, mom, but I know deep in my heart that it is the best thing for me."

"Well, it will certainly be a shocking time for the neighbors, for the kids at schools, for everyone. All of a sudden, we'll have to completely change the decor of your room. Besides getting rid of all your boy clothes, we'll have to fill the room and dresser with all your girl things. A draw for your panties, bras and stockings, and the closet filled with your dresses, skirts and blouses. You'll be able to get some jewelry boxes and you can keep all your perfumes on the dresser top, like other girls do. When all our relatives and friends come to visit, there you will be as Pamela, just another one of the girls in the family. Of course, there are still those serious issues about your surgery and hormones and so forth. I guess we'll have to have a talk with Dr. Wentworth and maybe get our lawyer involved so the school will let you enroll. You might need some sort of official change in your birth certificate. Just think of the whole town seeing you as Pamela! The first time you show up at the dinner table in a dress, I dread to think of your poor fathers' expression."

"I'll just try and be the nicest girl a daddy every had and that'll make him love me again."

"I wish it were so simple."

"I really don't want to hurt dad. I hope you understand that."

"Of course, I know you don't want to."

"One last thing I want, mom, something which I have wanted for a very long time is to take ballet lessons."

"Slow down, honey, we'll have plenty of time to do this all later."

"You see how Pamela is blossoming?," Mrs. O'Connor said.

"I suppose you're right, Mrs. O'Connor. Pamela is here to stay and I think it will be for the best."

 

 

 

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© 1997 by Pamela. 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.