The Model           by: Patricia Pendragon

 

Dave and Steve were good friends and had been so for some time despite the age difference between them of almost six years. Steve, the younger found the company of Dave very stimulating as the older youth had a wide range of interests including being a radio HAM and having a fully equipped photographic studio and darkroom. Steve had found the friendship rewarding in many different ways, not least monetary, as he had helped Dave with photographic work and sometimes helped to set up the radio equipment. They found, as they got older, that they shared other interests as well and here the younger boy was always a very willing, in fact sometimes demanding, partner.

Dave owned an old sailing boat and the two could sometimes be found sailing this, at other times exploring the sea gullies and pools looking for anything interesting. Dave taught Steve photography using the rather fancy cameras he had managed to save up for and buy and then taught him to develop and print the negatives. Occasionally Steve would model for Dave and this lead eventually to entries in the Photographic Competition held annually for amateur and professional photographers. Steve also learned a great deal about the radio procedures and radio equipment that the HAM fraternity used, even occasionally being allowed to use the transmitter under Dave’s supervision. And sometimes they just sat around and talked or played games.

 

It was after sailing one day that Dave challenged Steve to a dare. Steve, ever willing, accepted the challenge and as a result was shortly trussed up like a neatly wrapped parcel – only this was in medium weight cotton rope and not wrapping paper! The boy found himself unable to move more than his mouth, eyes and fingers! He put up a fierce struggle to free himself – after all he had just made a bet that he could – and eventually had to admit defeat as the rope just seemed to get tighter as he struggled. To his friend’s amusement he also developed a really obvious hard on, all the more visible because he was, at the time, wearing only the briefest of swimming briefs.

"Looks like you’ll need some relief for that", teased Dave, "ready to admit defeat yet?"

"No way! I’m still going to get out of this," gritted Steve, "if I can just work my hand free….." he grunted, then grinned as he managed to get enough slack to touch his crotch, "Hmmmm! Looks like you’re going to have to ‘rescue’ me!" he laughed.

"Oh? This mean you’re admitting defeat?" asked Dave teasingly.

"Huh!" the boy continued to struggle for a bit longer, then, with a grin and a shrug added, "Yeah, I’ll admit you’ve got me here. What now?"

"I think I may just take advantage of your position and then see if you still want ‘rescuing’!" laughed the other, "You lose the bet by the way! So you’ll have to pay the price!" he thought for a moment, then asked, "Ever dressed up as a girl?"

"Why?" shot back Steve, suddenly afraid his friend might have guessed his secret.

"Well? Have you?" Dave grinned at him, "I could use a female model for some photography sessions, and if you were properly made over, you could do it!"

"Me? Come on Dave, quit kidding around, I’d never make a convincing girl!" protested Steve, but his rigid member betrayed his interest.

"Oh, I think it could be done, but it would have to be a full make-over. Do you dare? If it works there could be some money in it for you," he finished with a laugh.

 

Half an hour later Steve, released and his swim briefs restored to their normal slightly over filled state, was able to ruefully reflect on the forfeit he had agreed too. He had agreed to allow himself to be made over to a girl for a photographic competition to be held at an estate out of town two weeks later. While he had, from time to time, experimented with cross dressing, using a corset and some other clothing his mother no longer used and didn’t know was still around the house, he had never ‘gone public’ like this. As they arrived home, Dave turned to him and grinned, "OK, here’s the deal. Since we will have a lot to do to get you ready, come over to my place after school on Wednesday. I’ll have everything you need by then and we can get it tried out," he smiled, and continued, "That’s if you’ve got the balls to pay up!"

"OK!" agreed Steve. He gave him a lopsided grin and added, "Just as long as no one gets to see me around here like that!"

 

Over the next couple of days he had plenty of time to consider his acceptance of the dare he would be honouring, not least the likely result of his being identified by some one he or his mother knew. After all, he had agreed to submit to being totally ‘made over’ as a girl, or more correctly young woman, and to accompany Dave to a place where he would pose as a model for Dave. But, at the grand age of nearly 15, the consequences did not weigh heavily enough with him to merit more than a passing thought. If the truth be told, he actually found the thought of consequences at being caught en costume, rather exciting. In a way it added spice to the whole escapade. He wondered exactly what Dave would be expecting him to do while 'dressed' and spent more than a little time contemplating some of the more erotic and exotic activities that might ensue.

 

Wednesday came, and with it the realisation as he looked at the equipment and clothing laid out for him at the apartment Dave shared with his Mum (currently at work), that he was in this far, far deeper than he could have imagined! They started by using a depilatory cream on his body, arms and legs and then used a razor over what pubic hair remained. After a shower and the application of some body lotion, Steve slipped into the skin tone latex cache sex that Dave had bought for him. With his genitals tucked away inside this and secured, the finely detailed crotch of the cache gave him all the appearance of a woman. As it also had padded derriere and hips his lower body took on the shape as well as the sex of a woman. Next came the breast forms, as finely detailed as the cache and filled with silicone, these were glued to his chest using surgical glue. To his surprise they not only looked real, but also felt it! With make up toning the prosthetics to his own skin tone and a natural wig of his own hair colour and his face made up he found himself staring at the reflection of a young woman – the boy Steve had gone completely! He was so surprised he forgot to ask Dave where he had learned to do the make up or got the rest of the stuff!

 

With time drawing on they quickly tried out a few of the clothes Dave had brought for him and agreed to the combinations of skirts, heels and blouses with some slack suits and accessories and then it was time to take it all off again. This took longer than expected and Steve had only just finished dressing in his own clothes when Dave's mother arrived home from work! He made an excuse and left soon after, arriving home to find that his own mum was just unpacking the shopping she had brought home with her. Having given her a warm kiss he headed off to his room to put away the bag of stuff he had brought from Dave’s and was shocked to see in the mirror that he still had traces of make up round his eye’s! A quick wash sorted most of that out and he just hoped like crazy that his mum hadn’t seen it!

 

As nothing was mentioned at supper, he was able to convince himself that he had got away with it – this time. Mentally kicking himself he settled down to watch his favourite telly programme resolving to be more thorough in his cleanup next time.

 

The phone ringing just as the show finished startled him and he was a little slow to get up and answer it. His Mum picked it up instead and he heard her saying, "Yes, Oh! Hello Dave, did you want to speak to Steve?" Pause, then, "Oh! No, I think that will be OK. Just let me check." She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and called to Steve, "Dave wants to know if I’ll allow you to go away for the weekend with him. Do you want to?"

"Yes," he answered, adding, "He asked if I would help him do some sort of photographic thing."

He heard his Mum confirming this with Dave and then she spoke to him again, "Yes, that’s it. Want to go?"

His heart hammering with anticipation, he replied, "Yes please Mum, if you don’t mind."

"Of course I don’t mind," she smiled at him, addressing the phone again she continued, " That will be OK Dave, where did you say it was? Oh, yes that will be fine. Do you want to talk to him now? OK, here you are then," she finished and beckoned Steve.

 

Taking the phone he tried not to sound excited and listened as Dave explained the arrangements for their departure. Steve made a note that he must be ready on Friday afternoon and that they would be going up country to a small farm about fifty miles inland. He was aching to ask why, but couldn’t with his mum in earshot, so had to be content to wait until the appointed day. He almost lost it when Dave casually added that he must be wearing the cache when he came to go.

 

Friday morning at school dragged, Steve had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his work and almost got a detention for not paying attention. Eventually it came to an end however, and he was able to head off home to get ready for the weekend. He considered himself fortunate to have little homework to be completed by Monday, but checked this anyway and decided to take it with him.

 

At home he quickly shaved his traces of body hair and donned the cache. Then he put on his boxer shorts and jeans and discovered that he had changed shape! His jeans were now very snug and his boxers beneath them were tight enough to pull quite heavily into his crack. He was a bit concerned about this but realised he couldn’t do anything about it either so he rapidly packed the clothes he would expect to wear normally and the stuff Dave had given him on the previous Wednesday, grabbed his key and headed for Dave’s. Passing the blocks busy body on the way and mentally cursing his luck, he gave her a bright smile and a cheerful hello quite the opposite of what he really felt like doing and saying and managed to avoid being detained by her.

 

Dave opened the door to his knock and grinned a greeting. Then picking up a couple of bags and the camera equipment he said, "Take these out to the car. I’ll bring the rest and lock up."

Steve took the bags his friend proffered and made his way to the stairs. Here he ran into Miss Tench again and this time could not avoid having to stop. She did her best to fish from him where he was going and why and he did his best to avoid actually telling her. He knew that she would now make it her business to discover everything she could and even if she couldn’t get any real facts would make up something and spread it around. He was really grateful when another tenant came up the stairs and distracted her, giving him the opportunity to make his escape. Hearing as he did so her comment to the other woman, "… I don’t know. These young people have no concept of decency! Did you see how tight his trousers were …." and the rest was lost as he turned another bend in the stairs and made his way to the car. Here he was joined by Dave a few minutes later and vented his feelings about "that stupid old blabbermouth!"

 

This upset was soon forgotten as the cleared the outskirts of the town and headed for the clean mountain range some distance inland. The climb into the foothills where the farm they were going to was located was a gentle one at first. The road gradually became steeper and more winding as they climbed onto the shoulder of the range and turned onto a single-track road which took them the remaining miles to the farm.

 

This stood in splendid isolation on a small rise with magnificent views in all directions, yet remained hidden until the traveller was almost up to it. Set in a neat garden it was surrounded by rolling hill pasture and looked down toward the city and the coast with the mountains as a backdrop. To one side a small dam filled a shallow valley between two low hillocks and further to the rear some low sheds provided storage for the farm equipment, feed and animal pens. The mountains formed a magnificent backdrop to the whole scene. As they drew up in the back yard of the house, the kitchen door opened and two handsome women came out, Steve recognised them both and felt a protest rising in his throat at Dave’s expecting him to "perform" in front of people who knew him! Not only were they members of the sailing club, the taller woman, a Miss Hoffnung, was a Champion Skipper in her Class Division, but they were also on speaking terms of acquaintance with his mother! The second woman was a Ms Berlin and had been at school with his mother and still called and sometimes took her out to tea or a show.

"Stop worrying!" exclaimed Dave as Steve hissed his objection, "They are going to do the makeover for you and we will do the shoot here! Then you go back to being yourself and no-one will ever say a word about it!"

 

"Steve, Dave!" exclaimed the taller of the two, "welcome to ‘Braunschwieg’, "we have been looking forward to this since Dave first asked if we’d help. I think you’ll be an absolutely stunning model Steve," she finished with a warm smile. Her companion nodded agreement and between them they began to help carry bags and equipment into the house.

 

Steve found his protests dying unsaid; these women were making him feel as if he was doing something so special that he couldn’t bring himself to spoil it. He found himself surrendering to their ministrations. It was during this make-over that Ms Berlin let fall that her own son had recently gone for ‘the op.’ She told him cheerfully, that she wished he had confided in her a lot earlier – they might then have been able to spare him some of the misery and anguish he had endured.

 

In no time at all it seemed he had been transformed into a very attractive young woman, smartly dressed in slacks and loose blouse, neat boots with two-inch heels and a neat hairstyle. Steve sat down to supper with mixed emotions. On the one hand he liked the feel of being a woman, he liked the clothes and the feeling of his "new" body, but on the other hand he was worried that his mother might learn of this and be upset. At Ms Hoffnung’s suggestion Steve agreed to them calling him Steph or Stephanie while he was ‘en femme’, "So you get into the mood and ‘feel’ like a girl," she had said.

 

It worked OK. A couple of hours and he was used to it, in fact he began to enjoy it and the feeling of being a girl. The weekend worked a real treat. "Stephanie" got so into role that ‘she’ got a bit carried away with it. The photo shoot went extremely well, ‘Steph’ soon forgetting his nervousness and responding naturally to Dave’s directions for posing. In all they did a series of ‘fashion’, art, and even some nude studies. Dave was really pleased with the shots, promising to have copies for Stephanie as soon as they got back. Although Stephanie would have liked to, Dave did not appear to be ‘in the mood’ and there was no ‘hanky-panky’ – even though they shared a room. It had single beds and they each kept to their own.

 

All to soon it seemed they were on the way home again, Stephanie having reverted to being Steve, albeit a little regretfully.

 

It was several days before Steve saw Dave again. Handing him a large photographic envelope, Dave suggested with a broad grin that Steve might like to have a look at these in private – some he might even like to use as ‘pin-ups’! Blushing automatically, Steve asked if they were from their weekend shoot and Dave confirmed this with a huge grin. "You make a fantastic model kiddo!" he laughed and added, "If you like we can do it again sometime. As soon as I get the cheque from the agency for these, I’ll give you your share. Fifty-fifty, OK?"

Steve nodded his agreement and asked, "What are they going to use them for?"

"I’m not sure chum. I think for some ads they’re doing in a mag. But, I want to use the best ones for a competition. Are you OK with that?"

"Well….." Steve hesitated, "As long as no-one will ever know its me!"

"Look at the pics and tell me if you recognise yourself!" grinned Dave, "Don’t worry it’ll be cool!"

Steve agreed and they parted, unaware that their ‘bette noir’, the dreaded Miss Tench, had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

 

The repercussions of this would not be felt for some months, but Steve became aware of the fact that the Welfare Inspector seemed to be around whenever he got home from school and this gave him an uneasy feeling. He mentioned this to Dave who suggested that they should act very normal and not draw attention to themselves, so Steve continued to help with the photography and the radio ham side of things. But, they now made sure that they were openly seen coming and going and were a lot more careful of their games. Both were aware of the word among the kids that the welfare workers were dead keen to ‘protect’ them from themselves and there were lots of stories about the inspectors meddling and splitting families. There were also stories about the things the wardens of the council run ‘havens’ did to the kids in their care and neither boy wanted to find out if they were true.

 

The real storm broke several months later. Steve was doing his school science assignment when there was a knock at the door and he heard his mother answer it, then voices from the living room. He could tell from the tone of her voice when she asked him to join her a few minutes later that she was worried and angry about something. Guiltily he searched his memory for anything he might have done that could possibly be the cause of this and could think of nothing at all, so, puzzled and a little on his guard, he walked through to the living room. The sight that met his gaze when he walked through the door froze him in his tracks!

 

Seated primly on a chair he normally used when watching telly, was a smirking Welfare Inspector, uncomfortably seated on the sofa was a policemen, his mother was stood at her seat her hand clutching a collection of magazines and photographs that he knew, without seeing, probably contained ‘his’ portfolio! "Yes, mum?" he asked as innocently as he could.

"Steve, this lady is Ms Appledore from the Welfare Office, and this is Constable Shrivenham. They say these photos, if they are of who they think they are, represent abuse and exposing a minor to pornography. What do you know about it?" asked his mother, her voice pleading with him to prove it all complete nonsense.

 

Steve tried to brazen it out. "Of course it’s a load of rubbish Mum!" he protested without even looking at the photos. "It can’t possibly be me, what the heck are they of anyway?"

Silently his mother handed the collection to him. He flicked through them and said with what he hoped was a suitable sneer, "So? Who is this supposed to be? What’s it got to do with me anyway?"

"Do you deny, Steven," asked Ms Appledore ingratiatingly, "that these are of you?"

"You’re joking!" Steve flung back, "These are of a girl! What the hell do you think I am?"

"Calm down youngster!" ordered the policeman; "Ms Appledore has good reason to believe that you may have been forced to dress up as a girl and pose for these. They do bear a remarkable resemblance you know," he added gently.

"No one forces me to do anything!" Steve snarled back, now seriously alarmed but determined not to give anything away.

"Well, Ms Appledore and her colleagues had a tip off from someone concerned about you, that you were involved in inappropriate activities," explained the constable gently, "She has a duty to investigate every complaint or information laid by a member of the public."

"I wondered why Ms Nosey Welfare was lurking around here!" Steve scowled at the woman, "Mum, she’s been following me around and spying on everything I do! I won’t give her any answers at all – she’s making it all up! She’s been snooping around the flats for months now!"

"I’m just doing my job young man!" responded the woman sharply, "there’s no need to be offensive! I assure you Mrs Grantham, I have taken the greatest care and acted only on the most reliable information!" Turning to Steve, she challenged him, "How old are you?"

"None of your business!" he snapped back, "I know what you’re up to! You just want to drag me off to your ‘care’ homes for some of your pal’s to have fun with me! Is that why you brought the Copper? So it will look all nice and legal?"

"Come on young man," intervened the Constable, trying to calm Steve down, "Ms Appledore has her duty, and I have mine. We have looked into this very thoroughly and you have been associating with a man who is a photographer. You spend a lot of time in his company. Ms Appledore is required by the law to ensure that no improper activities take place which could affect you!"

"She should mind her own business," grumbled Steve. "If you really want to know what I do with my friend, its simple. He takes photos. I carry the camera bags; help him set up the lights and so on. I get paid for it. Is that a crime?"

"Of course not," purred the woman, "But what about the other time you spend with him? You spend a lot of time at his flat don’t you? More than enough time in fact for you to be dressed up like this!"

"I don’t think you are in any position to make such a crude accusation!" declared Steve’s mother, "How dare you infer that my son is in anyway involved in such distasteful activities!"

"It’s OK Mum," said Steve, "I see where she’s going! As it happens Ms Dirtmind, I use the radio equipment there! My friend is teaching me to be a radio operator and I talk to other HAM’s on his radio hook up. The police know all about it! And," he added, " You’ve forgotten our sailing trips! I suppose I could get dolled up as a girl and pose naked on the boat – preferably in the middle of the harbour?"

 

There was a stunned silence at this outburst. Then the Constable spoke gently. "Could we all sit down, please!" it was more a command than a request, "Ms Appledore, it seems that you need to be more open with both Steven and his mother." He turned to Steve and said, "Social Services applied this afternoon for a custody order for you. The Magistrate granted it on the evidence before him, the surveillance logs of the officers who have been keeping you under observation and the photographic evidence we obtained when we searched your friends dark room. Your friend has been arrested and will appear before the magistrates tomorrow to answer a charge of perverting a minor, using a minor to obtain salacious material and possibly sexual abuse. The court ordered that you were to be taken into protective custody to ensure that you cannot be persuaded to change your testimony."

"You can’t prove anything," spat Steve flatly, "and if you think I’m going with these perverts you’ve another think coming!" He leaped to his feet and was almost out of the room when the Constable grabbed him! "Let me go!" he shouted, "Its all lies! You can’t take me away!"

 

A distressing scene followed in which Steve was forcibly restrained after he had attacked Ms Appledore, calling her a liar, a whore and a pervert. His mother, in tears begged the policeman to let Steve go, but he gently pointed out that he had a warrant from the court for the boy to be taken into protective custody of the social worker. He could not refuse to do this.

 

The next few hours were horrendous for Steve. He was dragged out to the waiting car and then forcibly restrained by being cuffed to the car by the ankles and handcuffs on his wrists. Delivered to the Council’s ‘Care Home’ he had been handed over to a pair of tough male assistants who had declared that he needed to be put in solitary until he calmed down – stripped him forcibly and frogmarched him naked through the Home to a small secure room where he had been confined.

 

Over the next three days, he had consistently refused to give in to their treatment of him and eventually had won the concession of being allowed to see a Doctor. This individual had turned out to be worse than useless and the confinement had gone on. At no time was he allowed clothes and was forced to walk to and from interviews naked. On the third day, he caught sight of something which chilled him and made him realise that he was in some danger here! On the notice board was a poster-sized picture of him ‘en femme’ with the legend underneath ‘Recognise this "Girlboy"?’ His escort teased him about it as they passed, making him look at it and inviting him to admit it was him. Several other boys, all big and tough looking leered at him while this was going on and Steve felt humiliated and very afraid.

His fears were well founded as two days later he was suddenly handed clothes and told to get dressed. He was being moved to a dormitory. When he opened the parcel of clothes he protested. Inside were a pair of French cut knickers and a boob-tube top, a pair of girl’s slacks and feminine sandals. His protests were ignored, "You can put those on and like it or go naked in the dormitory and like that too!" He surrendered and wore the clothes.

 

When the other inmates had stopped laughing at him, he found a space on the bed assigned to him and curled up in a ball. Some of the other kids were sympathetic and said so. Most seemed to know what was going on and about Dave’s case, but, he was pleased to hear that it was being delayed by the fact that no-one could proceed without his statement. Resolving to refuse to co-operate on this until they let him speak for himself in court, Steve listened and said as little as he could.

 

It was a full two weeks before a flustered Ms Appledore arrived with another man from the Welfare Inspectorate, and an order from a superior court for Steve to be delivered to the Magistrates Chambers for interview with counsel. She did her best to persuade the angry boy not to talk about anything other than his relationship with Dave. A number of thinly veiled threats were included in her dialogue backed by her companion. Steve held his own counsel, he had heard enough from some of the other kids to know that these people weren’t bluffing, but figured he could get around that too. With a show of angry reluctance, not entirely feigned, he agreed to their ‘rules’.

 

A little later he was escorted to the official van that would take him to the court, dressed in clean denims, fresh shirt and his own underwear and jacket. He was not a happy young man when he saw the arrangements that where already in place to prevent his escape, which included two of the ‘heavy’ squad from the home and the unctuous Ms Appledore. It was plain from the start that they would have complete control of him at every step of the way. Despite his objections Ms Appledore insisted on being present for the interview as well – and interrupted every time he attempted to correct the blatant fabrications on the statement that was read to him as "his" testimony. Eventually he became so angry that he began yelling at the top of his voice that he was being held a prisoner by the social workers and that they were sexually abusing him! That brought the house down in more ways than one!

 

First the heavies burst into the room and attempted to subdue him. He had the satisfaction of planting his foot so heavily in the one man’s crotch that the individual went down like a slaughtered ox and stayed there. Next Ms Appledore took a fall when he flung the second heavy against her and was about to make for the door when a policeman arrived closely followed by a fully robed judge and several more people. The lawyer who had been attempting to interview Steve began to gabble his version of the story and Steve angrily shouted that he was lying – adding that the social services were trying to force him to say things that were lies!

 

The Judge, looking extremely angry, then demanded silence, ordered everyone except the policeman, Steve and the lawyer from the room and fixed Steve with a very cold eye.

"Now then young man! You had better explain what this is all about very quickly. It is a very serious offence to cause affray in a court, even in one of the ancillary rooms to that court! I trust that you have very good reason for your outburst?"

"Yes sir." Said Steve, scared almost to tears by the turn events had taken. His voice trembling and with difficulty at first he told the judge what had led to his outburst. That worthy’s face became first serious and then, by degrees, flushed with anger. When the boy had finished he asked several questions, the replies made him even angrier in appearance. Ordering the Policeman to remain with Steve, he ordered the lawyer to accompany him and left sweeping the loitering Ms Appledore and her remaining companion with him.

 

"Well lad," grinned the Policeman once the door shut, "better sit down. Mr Justice Sir George Ramsey doesn’t take kindly to people disrupting his court as you did, but he likes people who try to use the law to stitch someone up even less!" He stared at the youth for a moment, then continued, "You stood up to them well though, that lot have been spoiling for something like this for quite a while! The one you kicked will have some difficulty with his tackle for a bit!" he added with a sympathetic grin, "but if what I’ve heard is true, he deserves every bit of it. Chin up kid, it may look bad, but Sir George will tear it apart to get to the truth of it, you can be bloody sure of that!" With that he pulled a chair into position so that he was between the door and Steve and sat. Left with no option but to do likewise, Steve sat as well. After a bit he and the Policeman, whose name was Colin, began to talk about things they were interested in and time passed swiftly.

 

Steve was beginning to wonder what would happen next when there was a knock at the door. When Colin opened it, a clerk handed him a slip of paper and asked if they wanted any tea. Both answered in the affirmative and Colin shut the door firmly before reading the slip of paper. Silently he handed it to Steve. It read simply: "I am not satisfied that I have heard the truth of this matter as yet. I have therefore ordered that there will be a special hearing of the Court at 1730 today and the opportunity will be given to all concerned to put their evidence before me and my two assessing colleagues. This procedure is unusual, but, in view of the circumstances and the possibility that a serious offence is being committed under the guise of legal proceedings, I have decided to proceed in this way. I will send an Usher from my court when your charge is required." The scrawl at the bottom of the slip could just be made out as "Ram…." which the policeman told Steve was the judge’s usual way of signing things.

 

Tea was delivered a few minutes later and a little later still there came another knock and this time Colin admitted a small man in neat clothes who introduced himself as Mr Charles Carew, a Magistrate and his assistant, a woman with a notepad, introduced as Mrs Ford. He told Steve that he was acting as an examiner in this matter since the accusations that Steve had made were extremely serious and that it was felt that an immediate enquiry should be conducted. Steve was invited to sit down, warned that everything he said would be recorded and that he had the right to have a legal representative present during the interview. He declined adding that he trusted the interviewer and a full statement was taken from him by the magistrate covering the events from the time the social workers had called at his home to the moment of the fracas in the room they now occupied. When it was done, the magistrate asked Mrs Ford to read it all back to them and then asked Steve and Colin to sign that it was a true copy of the interview.

 

An hour later, he was ushered into the courtroom proper. On the bench sat Sir George looking even more grim than before, Below the bench sat a row of lawyers and their clerks and on one side his mother and her lawyer, with, on the other side the social services people looking very worried. Indicating that Steve should stand in the witness box, the three judges asked if he felt he wanted to make his evidence before the assembled people or if he would prefer to do so in a closed court with just the lawyers present.

"No sir, I can do it here," said in as firm a voice as he could manage.

"Very well, we shall begin." He held up a piece of paper and asked the Usher to show it to Steve, "Do you recognise this statement?"

"Yes sir!"

"Are you prepared to swear that it is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well, have you been in a court before?"

"No sir. This is the first time."

"Let us hope it will also be the last! Now young man, the clerk will give you a Bible to hold in your left hand, you must raise your right hand and repeat the words of the oath exactly. Are you happy to do this?"

"Yes sir." Steve replied and did exactly as he was asked.

For the next hour he was questioned about the events described in his statement and the treatment he had been subjected too at the council home. At the end of it he was tired, frightened and very upset, but determined not to give in and let the Welfare Inspectors get away with their threats to him and Dave. When he was finally released from the witness stand he was allowed to sit with his mother and then listened as the social workers gave their side and tried very hard to convince the judges that it was all lies and that he was a trouble maker and general bad influence on all the others – adding that he had been abused by a neighbour. That got Steve going again, and the Judge asked that he be recalled to the stand.

 

"Now then young man," the Judge said sternly, "I can see that you are upset about some part of the evidence we have just heard. I wish to know why?"

"Sir, they keep accusing my friend Dave of buggering me! It’s a lie and they just want to make me say what they want to hear. That’s why they wouldn’t let me see my Mum or a lawyer or anyone they couldn’t sweet talk! No one has asked them why there was a photograph of me dressed as a girl on the public notice board in the home when I was taken there! Or why they made me wear girls underwear and put me in a room with a guy who is boasting he would rape the girly-boy."

 

Steve thought he’d pushed to far there when the Judge almost exploded with one word! "What?" he boomed from the bench. "The more I hear of this, the more convinced I become that, not only has there been a serious miscarriage of justice, but that there has been a concerted and deliberate attempt by the Welfare Services Department or members of its staff to pervert the course of justice and to subvert it to their own ends." He glared in Steve’s direction and said, "You may step down young man. I think that you have undergone quite sufficient trauma for one day. I am ordering that you be released immediately into the custody of your parent. I am further directing that you are not to attempt to communicate with your friend," he searched his papers, but could not find the name, so continued, "who was arraigned on charges before the magistrate earlier today, and furthermore, that the Welfare Services are to hand over all material relating to this case to the Clerk of this Court tonight. In addition, there will be no attempt under any circumstances by members of the Welfare Services department of this Borough or any other to attempt to contact either this boy or his parent, or to keep them or any other person involved in this appalling situation under surveillance." He paused and consulted his colleagues, "I agree! My colleagues and I will reassemble tomorrow to consider all the documents the social services will deliver tonight and the evidence we have heard so far. In the meantime the Police are directed to ensure that the order of this court is carried out immediately and to provide this boy and his mother with a round the clock escort to ensure that my direction to Welfare Services is complied with." He slammed his gavel on the podium and rose, "This court is adjourned!" There was a hasty scrambling to their feet as everyone stood while the judges, looking very grim stalked out.

 

Steve looked across to where the Welfare workers stood in stunned silence, Ms Appledore looked as if she was about to throw up and several others looked very worried as their lawyer hastily stuffed papers into his bag and a grinning policeman sauntered across to suggest that he was ready to go with them to collect all the files the judge wanted. Steve just wanted to get home and shut out the world. Steve didn’t care anymore what anyone thought or felt – except his Mum who, he could see was even more upset than he was!

 

The first thing she did when they got inside the flat was to put her arms around him and give him a huge hug! Steve clung to her for all he was worth, neither of them able to say what was in their hearts. Eventually, Steve found his voice and half sobbed out, "I’m sorry Mum!"

"Oh my precious child, don’t be!" she cried into his hair, "you have nothing to be ashamed of! Emily and Marta have been to see me and told me everything! I have known you were dressing up for years, and they told me exactly what you had done at their house."

"But," Steve faltered pulling away slightly, "Aren’t you upset about me doing it?"

"My child, the only thing that really upsets me is that it had to come out in this way!" she smiled at him through a mist of tears, "now we will have to deal with this nastiness as quickly as possible and then see what we can do about it all."

 

For a long moment Steve could say nothing and clung to her in a loving embrace. His Mum was surely one in a million!

 

Later that evening she told him that Dave too had been allowed home, the Judge granting bail pending the outcome of the investigation against the Welfare workers. Apparently she had gone to Dave’s trial in the hope of being able to see him and had been really shocked when the row had broken out and he had been the centre of it all. At least, she told him proudly, no one would ever be able to say he wasn’t prepared to fight for himself and those he cared for! They went to bed that night emotionally drained and physically exhausted.

 

It was two more days before a telephone call summoned them to return to the court. By then the extraordinary circumstances of the whole affair were splashed across the front pages of several major newspapers and the mail was stuffed with offers of huge sums to grant "exclusive" interviews. On advice from Mrs Grantham’s lawyer they said nothing to anyone – which proved to be very sound advice!

 

Sir George Ramsey was not in a good mood when he and his assessors entered the Court. His comments in his address to the assembled legal teams and the contenders – Steve and the Welfare services people was delivered in pointed and emphatic language that had the Welfare’s legal team white faced and worried. Mind you, he was not that kind to the team representing Steve either, pointing out that they had the power to have put an end to it all very swiftly since they should have known that the law did not permit the Welfare people to deny them access to him. His comments on the files that had been put before him and his colleagues, the casual way in which decisions had been made or recorded which impacted upon innocent children in the most despicable (his words!) ways dripped with sarcasm and contempt for the Welfare officers. Reaching the end of his speech after some thirty minutes or more (it felt like hours to Steve!) he asked if the Welfare Legal Team had any further information they wished him to consider. On their indicating they did not, he announced that, as a result of their examination of the files and the evidence they had themselves collected, he and his colleagues were agreed that the entire matter was to be referred to the Solicitor General for further action. Then came the bit Steve was praying for; all orders pertaining to his being placed in care were rescinded, furthermore, all record of his being placed on any register, or on any related matter was to be expunged from the records of the Welfare Department. Then came the Judge’s nuclear bomb. "The Bench has decided that it is entirely inappropriate for there to be any appeal in this matter, as it is to be the subject of further proceedings in a higher court which could result in criminal charges being brought against members of the Welfare Services staff. Leave to appeal is therefore refused by this Court." His gavel slammed into the podium with what sounded like a thunderclap!

 

The stunned silence which ensued was broken when the three Judges rose and the Clerk of the Court hastily called everyone to their feet. Mrs Grantham and Steve were still hugging each other when a Court Usher approached and told them that Sir George wished to see them both in his Chambers.

 

The Judge was brief and to the point. He advised them not to talk to the papers as this could prejudice any further proceedings saying that he well understood the lure of the big money being offered, but that they should consider the effect anything they revealed might have on the investigation and on the ultimate outcome of any trial. He congratulated Steve on his ‘pluck’, adding with a scowl, "But, young man, do not think that such behaviour will be tolerated in any court again!" Steve stammered his thanks and his Mum added hers saying that she was very proud of him.

"So you should be Mrs Grantham!" smiled the Judge, adding, "Just as well for you I think, young man, that we never examined the matter which brought you to the attention of the Welfare Officers." He held up a hand to silence Steve’s protest, "It is my opinion at this moment, but not in court, that this is a matter for your mother to deal with in your own home. I would caution you however, that, as you are still below the age of consent, to exercise great restraint. Once you are old enough in the eyes of the law, you may do as you please. That means young man, that in about four months time you may legally indulge in whatever activities you wish concomitant with your cross dressing proclivities. Until then, I urge you to refrain from having your picture splashed across certain magazines or any other publication. Do I make myself clear?"

 

Steve stammered an acknowledgement of what the Judge had said. Blushing crimson, he thanked the Judge and left with his mother feeling relieved and quite shaken to realise that the Judge had known about the photos and apparently recognised him in them. Only one more surprise awaited them. On the steps of the court buildings, they met Dave, smiling broadly and, although looking tired and a little pale, free. His mother was there too and told them the whole case had been withdrawn after the findings of the proceedings in Sir George’s court had been handed to the Magistrates. As we stood there talking and laughing happily at this outcome, Ms Appledore and her companions scurried past looking hunted and haggard pursued by a pack of photographers and reporters. Seeing them Steve, Dave and their parents hurriedly decided to leave before the pack spotted them and, hailing a cab, made good their escape.

 

Two months later the news broke, the Welfare Officers had been operating a paedophile ring from the ‘care’ homes across the County. The ringleaders had been arrested and others were on bail pending further investigation. Steve had been scrupulously careful of his and Dave’s contacts, always ensuring that other people were present all the time they were together. At home he was able to relax more and, with his mothers help began to ‘dress’ more and more regularly, finding that he liked being a girl far more than he did being a boy. As his sixteenth birthday drew nearer he began to feel as if he was emerging from a long, long nightmare and that, at last, he would be free to be himself.

 

The day of his birthday was also the day, the first of the cases arising from what the press was now calling the Welfare Scandal, came to a close. It was the second best present of the day, to see the sentences handed down on the people who had made his life so unpleasant in the Care Home, and to know they would be going away for a very long time. Ms Appledore escaped relatively lightly, she was found to be merely an overzealous instrument who had become an unwitting, but willing accessory to the crimes of others. She escaped a prison term but was declared unfit to work with children in future.

 

The best present of the day, was his own set of breast forms, cache sex and all the underwear he could have wished from his Mum, who then helped him to dress and took him down to her beauty parlour and hair salon for a full make over. Then it was out to "Braunshweig" for a celebratory party which would stay in his mind forever. All his friends were there, even some of those from school who had been standoffish until they had realised that his holding back was due to his being afraid they would reject what he was. One or two were themselves ‘dressed’ and Marta and Emily provided a wonderful venue and entertainment for everyone.

 

There was a less welcome visitor a few weeks later. Constable Shrivenham called to see Mrs Grantham and Steve with bad news. It seemed that there were some powerful people implicated in the ongoing investigation and some of them had sworn to get even with the kid who had started it all. The Constable told them, "we have it on very good intelligence, that a contract has been put out for Steve, I mean, erm," he hesitated as Steve was dressed as Steph and he wasn’t sure what to call him.

"It’s OK Officer," grinned Steve, "I call myself Steph when I’m like this."

"Right," grinned the Constable gratefully, "Our source says that they want you alive and that they want to make you pay for breaking up their organisation." He looked grim as he continued, "It seems they have done this before, kidnap a boy and force him to undergo a full change, then control him with drugs while selling his services as a prostitute. It could be very nasty, we have some leads, but in the meantime we think it would be a very good idea if you were to move to somewhere safe were we can keep a close watch on you. Is there anywhere you could go that would keep you out of danger?"

 

Mrs Grantham looked extremely worried as she considered this news. Eventually, she said, yes, there might be a safe place for Steve to go, but she would have to ask first. Steve guessed she meant Braunshweig but kept quiet about this, as he wasn’t sure she wanted it known yet. The Constable gave her a card with several numbers on it to call if anything suspicious came up and cautioned them both to take great care if they left the flat. He also suggested she call on his superiors and verify the information he had given her, advising her to do this in person as they had reason to believe her telephone line was being monitored. That afternoon they called in at the Police Station and Constable Shrivenham’s Chief Inspector confirmed everything he had said. There and then it was agreed that Steve had to disappear as soon as possible to a place where he could be protected. A plan was made and that evening implemented.

 

Stephanie left the flat in the company of a plainclothes Policewoman, a look-alike ‘Steve’ waving them good-bye! It proved to be the start of a journey which would lead ultimately to the fulfilment of Steve’s long-term dream - and the permanent appearance of Stephanie. It would be a journey not without its crises and its pain, but, in the end, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, the lonely and uncertain boy was to become the popular and attractive girl of his dreams. By then the threat to her happiness and safety would have been destroyed, the ringleaders safely where they belonged, behind prison bars.

 

And what of Dave? He too has a part in the end of this story, for Dave became a successful and sought after photographer, and his favourite model would also become his wife.

 

© 2001

Patricia Pendragon

 

© 2001
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.