Mommy Must I

by Robin Diaz

  

Chapter Ten

That night Vanessa slept soundly cuddling her pillow and dreaming of Bobbie Sue. In her dream Bobbie Sue was looking sexy wearing a black mini skirt, with a pink top, and black spiked high heels. Vanessa felt cozy wrapping her arms around Bobbie Sue's thin waist, drawing him in to kiss. When their lips touched, warmth filled her soul. Her dream repeated over and over for a thousand kisses. Vanessa never wanted to wake.

Sammie also dreamed about Bobbie Sue. In her dream they were in the pool house. The two stood holding each others bare waists kissing. Then Bobbie Sue starts to kiss and nibble Sammie's neck, working her way south. Soon Bobbie Sue unties Sammie's string bikini and starts kissing her between the legs. Sammie was being driven to a point of climax, lying in her bed, hand between her legs, slowly gyrating her hip, while softly moaning.

Bobby's dreams were troubled. He found himself dressed as a girl while trying to go to school. He was positive he dressed as a boy, putting his pants and T-shirt on, but when he stepped out the front door he was wearing the skirt and peach top. His nails were painted pink. The boys from the movie theater were standing in the drive waiting for him. He wondered why they were there; they didn't go to his school. He went back into the trailer to change, but when he stepped out again he was still wearing the skirt. Again, he knew he had changed. The boys were still waiting for him, however standing next to them was Sammie. He went back inside to change, but it did not matter, he still stepped out wearing the skirt. Only this time Vanessa and a group of kids were in the drive waiting for him. She came up and wrapped her arms around his waist. When she kissed him the kids started to laugh. Not wanting to be laughed at he tried to push her away, but she held fast and continued to kiss him. The laughter grew louder and louder. Bobby jolted up.

Aunt Monica opened the door just as Booby jolted up startled. She had to stop laughing to speak, "Woe, I didn't mean to scare you."

Becky was behind her laughing, "Come on get up, you slept long enough."

The humiliation I felt in the dream was still with me. My heart was pounding. I realized I was wearing the blue baby doll nightgown. I was embarrassed. I felt that Aunt Monica had to think I was a sick pervert, because that was how I felt at the moment.

I wanted to be left alone, "I'm up."

"We got tired of waiting for you. I want to see Becky's prom dress before we go shopping," Aunt Monica stated.

"I'm up," they did not take the hint and leave.

"Make sure you shave your legs, but don't wash your hair. I'm taking you to a special place," Monica told me while going over to the stack of girls' clothes on my dresser. Becky followed her.

I didn't move or respond. I watched Aunt Monica go through the clothes.

Becky turned to me, "Come on get a move on."

"I'm waiting for you all to leave my room."

"I like this," Monica held up my grey skirt, ignoring my statement.

"I picked that out for him," Becky stated.

Aunt Monica looked at me before setting the skirt down.

Becky stood grinning.

I was at a loss at what to do or say. Aunt Monica already saw me looking like a teenage girl. She knew I slept in a night gown. She was looking at the stack of girls' clothes in my room. I was certain that Mom had told her that I confessed about how I enjoyed looking pretty. None of them knew that I hated who I was becoming. I hated the joy I felt when I looked pretty. I hated the fact that I felt better pretending to be a girl. I hated that I got a trill out of being mistaken for a real girl and at the same time I was looking forward to the next time I would feel that thrill. I wished my life would go back to the way it was, but that was never going to happen.

"I don't feel good, maybe I should stay in bed," I told them while lying back down, and drawing the covers up to my chin.

"No you don't," Aunt Monica warned me while grabbing the covers and pulling.

I held the covers. Aunt Monica couldn't budge the covers, realizing that she was not strong enough to win; she changed her tactic and started tickling me. I kicked my feet to get her to stop. Becky could not resist the opportunity to have fun. She sat on my legs and started tickling my feet. I thrashed around, laughing and crying.

"Stop, Stop, I'm up." I could hardly breathe.

Becky got off my legs, "Hurry up and get ready. I want to show Aunt Monica my prom dress."

"I'll hurry, just give me some privacy." I was too embarrassed to walk around wearing the blue baby doll nightgown.

Aunt Monica ushered Becky out of my room. I could hear them go back into the kitchen. I quickly and quietly ran into the bathroom. My legs were still silky smooth, but I did as Aunt Monica asked and shaved them. I also shaved the few hairs that had grown below my naval. I enjoyed the slick feeling of running soap over my smooth skin. I almost washed my hair, before I remembered that she asked me not to. I wondered if she was planning on taking me to a hairdresser. The idea of going to a hairdresser was intriguing and at the same time scary. I guess I felt the need to stop the progression and reclaim my life as a boy. I washed my hair; but then felt guilty.

When I entered my room I saw a new outfit lying on my bed. My first thought was I needed a lock for my door. My second thought was, I wished the bra and panty set was pink instead of white. Next to the lingerie was a pink skirt and white chemise with a white top. The top had a small pink flower at the bottom of the neck line. I stood staring at the clothes. I could hear the others talking in the kitchen.

"You're welcome," Aunt Monica hollered.

I grinned. Aunt Monica was never subtle.

Becky appeared at my door, "Just put your bra and panty on with your slip so I can show Aunt Monica my prom dress."

I looked at her. I had the feeling that I was helping her more than I was helping myself. That at the end of the day she was going to get everything she wanted and I would end up with nothing. Knowing that, was not going to change the situation. Aunt Monica loved to dote on Becky; she always has.

I picked up the cincher. Not wanting another brush burn I asked Becky for help, "I'll need your help putting on my cincher."

She helped me put the cincher on. "Let me know when you need me for anything else," She said shutting my door.

At least she was thoughtful enough to give me privacy. I dropped my towel and started to get dressed. It had been close to a week since I had worn my old underwear. I wondered what I was going to do next week after the punishment was over. I preferred panties, it was odd but my panties had a clean feeling. I slipped my new bra on without any trouble. After I inserted my false breasts I checked my image in the mirror. I wondered what it would be like to have real breast. It was having those thoughts that worried me. I put the slip on, and then opened my door and called out to Becky.

I stood on the stool close to an hour modeling the prom dress while they discussed ideas for the dress. They spoke as if I was not there. I wondered if that was how it was for real models. Did people treat them as objects; sexy beautiful objects. Mom ended the show calling everybody to breakfast. Becky helped me change. I wore the new outfit from Aunt Monica.

After breakfast, Aunt Monica wanted to take Becky and me shopping. I did not want go. Ever since I was little and Aunt Monica lost me at the circus, and she didn't even realize she lost me; I never liked going places with her. Mom has always understood and never forced me to go with Aunt Monica and Becky on their shopping trips. This time Mom asked me into her room so we could talk. Of course Aunt Monica tried to follow us but Mom waved her off.

"What wrong?" She asked.

"You know I don't like traveling with her."

"You were five when that happened."

"I know, but I get anxious just thinking about traveling with her. Besides that, I don't know how to explain it, but I just feel like things should go back the way they were."

"Are you unhappy?"

"No, yes, no." I paused, "I'm scared."

Mom gave me a hug. She stepped back and fussed with my hair, "Do me a favor and go with your Aunt. She has planned out the entire day just for you."

"Okay," I wanted to say that if anything happens to me it will be her fault.

Becky sat in the front seat talking to Aunt Monica. I sat alone in the back seat staring out the window, wondering what Aunt Monica had planned for the day. As usual Aunt Monica was very excited. I often found her idea of exciting and mine were totally different. She had a thing for unique and out of the way places. I preferred the mall and fast food. After an hour on the road she turned into an old neighborhood. She snaked through a few narrow brick paved roads before parking in front of a small brick building. A wooden sign hung above the door, The Magic Mirror Salon.

Before going in Aunt Monica told us that an old law school friend owned the business. I wondered why someone would give up being an attorney to cut hair. Again, the unusual was normal for Aunt Monica's friends. The place was a long narrow shop with exposed brick walls on the inside with an old wood planked floor. On the left side, near the front, behind the reception desk was one wash station, next to two dryer stations. The reception desk was a Victorian style antique desk. Against the large storefront was the waiting area, which had four mismatched antique wingback chairs. The right side of the store had two styling stations. The store smelled of potpourri and chemicals.

A very tall women, over six feet tall; was washing a lady's hair. I could not help noticing her huge hands. It looked like she could palm the lady's head like a basketball. I thought of the term, Amazon women.

She appeared truly delighted to see Monica, "You made it."

When I heard her low voice, I thought, she is a guy.

"We got a late start. These are my nieces Becky and Bobbie. This is Paige."

"Hi," Becky stated eyeing the salon.

"Hi," I gave a shy wave.

"You must be the birthday girl," She smiled and looked me over. "A very special birthday from what I've been told."

Her statement confused me, then I remembered thirteen was supposed to be a big deal, "Thirteen next Saturday."

"Have a seat. I'll be with you as soon as I am done."

Aunt Monica asked Paige, "Do want coffee?"

"I have some in the back," Paige motioned.

"I'll send the girls down the street, they can get some muffins." Aunt Monica volunteered us.

The coffee shop was two blocks away. I was nervous about walking in public. A man with his wife was walking towards us. I saw his eyes move up and down, checking me out. The fear of being discovered filled me. After they walked past us, I exhaled. Once we were in the coffee shop I noticed people looking at me. I started to fidget with my skirt. The boy making the coffee started to flirt with Becky. I looked at the girl behind the counter. She was extremely sexy with long blonde hair that hung down to the middle of her back. Her breasts were large and her waist was small. I thought she could be a Scandinavian super model.

Once we were out of the store Becky turned towards me, "That was embarrassing."

"What?"

"The way you stared at the girl."

"I wasn't staring," I didn't think I was being obvious.

Becky looked at me, "You're an idiot."

Fighting with Becky was pointless and would only attracted unwanted attention. Besides, we had a long day ahead and I did not feel like spending it arguing with her. When we entered the salon, Paige was ready for me.

"Have a seat," She motioned for me to sit at the first wash station.

I sat down.

Paige put a plastic apron on me, "First I'll be washing your hair. Tilt your head back please."

Paige started running the warm water in my hair. I never had anyone wash my hair before, it was a pleasant feeling. I relaxed, closing my eyes while she worked her fingers in my hair and massaged my scalp. I started to drift off to sleep.

"Sit up please." She pushed on the back of the chair.

I roused myself from my slumber and helped pull myself up.

"So what are we doing today?" Paige did not ask me, she asked Monica.

Aunt Monica walked up and started talking about extensions. Becky butted in on the conversation, telling Paige how she would like an extension so we could look more like twins. The concept of us looking like twins intrigued them. Becky told the two what she envisioned for her hair. Aunt Monica had the final word on our hair styles, which was giving Becky what she wanted.

Paige started brushing some smelly stuff on my hair, "You're a lucky girl. On my thirteenth birthday I got a shotgun."

"A shotgun," I was baffled.

"A family tradition; all the young men got a gun on their thirteenth birthday. My Dad gave me a Browning, double-barrel, over-under 12 gauge shot gun." She kept brushing the smelly stuff on my hair as she spoke. "Handing me that gun was a proud moment for him."

The shop turned silent for a moment. "I wished for a training bra," Paige joked.

Aunt Monica laughed.

That confirmed my earlier suspicion that Paige was a man, or once was a man. I wanted to turn around to study her. I never met a person like him, her. I'm not stupid. I knew transgender, transvestites and cross dressers existed, I just never met one. I studied her through the mirror on the opposite wall. Her facial features were feminine. She had smooth skin like a girl. Her hair was long and silky. Looking at her face it was hard to tell. Once I started looking I could see it in her body. She had some feminine curvature. However, she was a big girl which made her look masculine. I wondered if others could tell I was a boy when they looked at me. For the first time I was glad that I was a petite boy. I didn't think it was obvious that I was boy.

Paige left me sitting in the chair with the smelly stuff in my hair, while she started on Becky's hair. Aunt Monica was near the front of the store having a conversation on the cell phone. When the timer sounded Paige hurried back to me to rinse my hair. After she was done rinsing my hair she wrapped a towel around my head and told me to sit still. She then went back to working on Becky's hair. I noticed a long length of black curly hair lying on the counter. I figured it was the extension Becky talked about earlier. I wondered how it got attached to my scalp.

After a few minutes Paige came back to work on me. She took the towel off my head and combed my hair out. She pulled it back into a small ponytail. Then she trimmed my bangs. She didn't cut much, just a little to even them. Once she had my bangs straight she trimmed my hair while pulling it back.

"Big plans for your birthday?" She asked while she cut my hair.

"I don't know," I realized I did not know what Aunt Monica had planned for me. "Aunt Monica has it all planned out."

"You're lucky to have an aunt like Monica," She continued to trim my hair. "I'll insert your extension after I finish with Becky's hair," she left me sitting in the chair.

Paige trimmed Becky's bangs. I tried to hear Aunt Monica's conversation. I was annoyed that she was still talking on the phone. Paige said I was lucky, but I felt slighted. She hardly said a word to me in the car. When we arrived she had me fetch coffee. And now she was spending the time talking on the phone. I wanted to believe the call was important.

It didn't take long for Paige to trim and dry Becky's hair. She inserted the extension in Becky's hair, and then fussed with the ponytail. I was amazed at how Becky's appearance changed with the extension. After Paige finished with Becky she came back to me. I was nervous and excited about having the extension inserted. It was the inner turmoil that plagued me all week. I felt I should hate that which was making me feel good. I did feel guilty about feeling good. I thought about how earlier I was excited by the pretty blonde cashier, and now I was excited about my further transformation into a girl. The time seamed to pass in a blink while I pondered my emotional instability.

"What do you think?" Paige asked.

I was astonished with how the extension changed my appearance. When I turned my head left and right I could feel the hair brush across my back. "I can't believe the difference it makes."

Paige could see my amazement, "I'm not finished yet. I have more to do."

Aunt Monica walked up to us, complementing Paige on her work. She then told Paige she needed to run an errand. It upset me that she was leaving. I looked to Becky to say something. Becky didn't seam to care that Aunt Monica was leaving. Aunt Monica walked out stating she would be back shortly.

The time did past quickly while Paige worked on both of us. She trimmed our eyebrows. Then she did our make-up. She spent some time working on my eyes, applying liner, highlight and mascara. Next she lined my lips and applied lipstick. I could see she was using a glossy pink.

"What is the color?"

"You like?"

"Yeah."

"It's called Little Girly 900."

I thought about the name of the lipstick and how appropriate it was for me. When Paige was finished with Becky's make-up she started on my nails. She cleaned and buffed my nails before adding extensions. The extensions were short, about a quarter of an inch. But the added length made a difference in how feminine my hands looked. She finished my nails with a sparkly pink nail polish that matched my lipstick.

Paige and Becky talked about Becky's prom dress while Paige did Becky's nails. Becky made sure everybody knew about her damn prom dress. I had hoped Paige would bring up her birthday again. I wanted to ask her some personal questions; like, are you still a man? I didn't feel right about just asking. Paige didn't mention her birthday, nor did she ask me anymore questions about mine. I was disappointed. But, not disappointed enough to muster the courage to ask my questions.

Aunt Monica returned while Paige was painting my toenails. She stood outside the store talking on her cell phone before coming in. She gushed with joy and praise on how fabulous Becky and I looked. Craving more compliments, Becky had to get up and model all of Paige's work. She had to hear one more time how beautiful she was. Aunt Monica didn't hesitate to lavish her with compliments. She gave me the same compliments when I stood. Aunt Monica's compliments did not have the same affect on me, as seeing my reflection in the mirror. She was right, I really was pretty. All signs of Robert were gone. Bobbie Sue, a cute teenage girl was all that could be seen.

My amazement must have shown because they started to laugh. Then Becky came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulder, "Come on sis, we have some shopping to do."

Aunt Monica paid the bill. I could not believe what she had spent on our hair cuts. She counted out eight one-hundred dollar bills. Paige was honestly delighted when Monica told her to keep the change. Mom usually spent fifteen dollars on my haircut, and that was with the tip. I started to feel guilty, four hundred dollars was a lot of money for a hair cut.

Once outside, on the side walk, Aunt Monica told us what was next, "OK, we are going around the corner to my friend's boutique. He has the latest trends from New York. You can each get one new outfit."

While walking down the sidewalk, I was amazed buy how happy I felt. I really was happy. It struck me, I had never known happiness. I felt an inner tranquility mixed with joy. My body didn't feel heavy, or weighed down. I felt light, bouncy. With my new feminine appearance, now that I looked pretty; there was no reason for others to see me as a boy. I always thought my disappointment in life was associated with living on the other side of the railroad tracks, being trailer trash. Over the years, I had tried to convince myself that I was a person of some self worth. But I could never get a sense of value to stick; the feeling of being a worthless individual would always return. I hoped the joy I was now feeling would never go away.

"Care to share," Aunt Monica asked.

"What,"

"You're smiling; you look like you are ready to giggle."

"Nothing," She could never understand. I don't think I could ever explain how much I appreciated her gift. Nor could she ever understand what her true gift was. "Thank you," the words sounded trivial compared to the way I felt.

"You're welcome." Aunt Monica gave me an odd smile and then stopped, "This is the place."

The sign read 'Dave's'. I thought that was an odd name for a women's boutique. Similar to the Magic Mirror Salon, this was an old brick building with hard wood floors. The displays were custom made from antique furniture and polished brass. Aunt Monica greeted Dave with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It was obvious that Dave was an effeminate gay male. After Aunt Monica and Dave hugged, he greeted Becky and me with a hug.

"So who is the birthday girl?" Dave asked us.

Aunt Monica spoke, "Who do you think?"

"Who is here for a new outfit?" Dave asked.

"They both are," Aunt Monica stated at the same time we each said, "I am."

"Then I would say I'm the birthday girl, go spend your Aunt's money," Dave spoke using his hands in a flamboyant manner.

Aunt Monica smiled, "Pick out whatever you want. Let Dave know if you need help." She took her cell phone out of her purse and turned away from us to make a phone call.

Unsure what was fashionable, and being overwhelmed with the selection, I decided to follow Becky. She took her time looking at the skirts and tops on the racks. When Becky pulled an article out to study it further, Dave would tell her who the designer was, and were the fabric was made. Some of what he said impressed Becky. Nothing he said made an impression on me; other then I had no knowledge of women's clothes. Becky then asked Dave if he had anything by Karen Walker. While we followed Dave he named off which stores in New York carried her line. Again Becky was impressed and I was ignorant.

Becky looked at a few skirts. I looked at one of the price tags. The price was eighty-nine dollars for a skirt. Mom never spent that much money on clothes. I looked over at Becky. She knew what I was thinking.

"Don't look at the price tags, you're shopping with Aunt Monica," She then pulled out a light blue mini skirt.

It looked like a denim skirt. I wasn't positive it was denim because the fabric appeared light weight and had a slight sheen. The skirt had a slight flare and the fabric rolled. Becky hooked it on the rack so it was fully displayed. She then pulled out a cream color top. It looked like a chemise. She laid the top above the skirt, and then she pulled out a V-neck button down blouse. The blouse was cream color with a pink and blue floral checker pattern and delicate pink trim. Dave pulled out a short coat and set it next to the top. The coat had a small tight blue and cream color cross hatch with a delicate pink trim and cream color cuffs.

Becky looked at me, "What do you think?"

The outfit was very pretty, "That is fine."

"To continue with the twin theme, we should get the same outfit." She looked at me for my approval.

"OK," I went to look at the price tag.

She pushed my hand away, "Good, now you pick out an outfit."

While I searched for our second outfit, Dave collected two of the outfits Becky picked out. Dave didn't ask our size. He gave us a quick glance then grabbed two outfits from the rack. Becky followed me while I looked through the racks. There were too many pretty outfits to choose from. I kept glancing at her for a hint of what she liked. I also wanted to look at the prices before I selected something.

"Finding it hard to choose just one?" Becky asked.

"Yea," As I moved forward I asked, "Do you see anything you like?"

"Yes, but this is your pick."

"How about this?" I pulled out an outfit I thought she would like; a black bubble mini skirt with a skimpy, but sexy, black top.

"It is very sexy. But, since you wear a cincher you might want to choose a different top."

She was right. Before putting the outfit back I had to look at the price tag. It was a one-hundred and twenty dollar skirt. Becky gave me a warning look, so I moved on. A sleeveless red dress with a wide red sash caught my attention, "How about this?" I pulled it out and held it in front of me to show her. There was something about the red dress that stirred my emotions. I wanted the dress.

"That is really sexy; however it is for special occasions, not for everyday."

Again, she was right. Reluctantly, I put the dress back. I tried to be sneaky and peek at the tag while putting it back. The dress cost three-hundred and forty-nine dollars. I turned and searched on. I stopped in front of a mannequin displaying a black mini halter dress with a hemp belted vest and an abbreviated vest. The belted vest had brown leather buttons that matched the leather belt. I thought the outfit was everyday wear for a person who had taste and style, "This is nice."

Becky stepped next to me and put her arm around my waist, "That is very nice. We have to try that on."

Dave told us it was a Proenza, and that I had excellent taste. We were lucky that he had a pair of the outfit in stock. We followed him to the changing room in the back of the store. The changing room was huge, twice as big as my bedroom. Instead of a cheap plastic bench like most of the stores mom shopped in, it had two oversized chairs and a sofa. There was wall paper on the walls. There was a full height antique mirror in the corner. I had assumed we would be in separate changing rooms, but next to the mirror on a polished brass clothing rack, hung our outfits. Becky didn't hesitate to undress. I sat on a chair and slowly took off my shoes.

"First we'll try on the outfit you picked out, then the one I selected," Becky told me as she threw her clothes on the chair next to me.

I was reluctant to strip down to my underwear. Changing in front of my sister and being seen in women's underwear was still uncomfortable for me. As Becky slipped into the dress I realized I would have to strip down to my underwear to put the dress on. I was hoping that I could do a quick change; first the top then the skirt. But since it was actually a dress I had to strip down to my underwear.

I wasn't trying to look. I just happened to notice Becky's breasts as she bent over and stepped into the dress. I didn't have the same feeling looking at hers as I did when I saw Vanessa's. I felt jealous. Which I knew was an odd feeling for a boy to have.

Becky must have read my mind or my expression, "Don't worry some day yours will develop."

I could see she wasn't teasing me, "That is impossible."

"Paige had a well developed chest." Becky turned her back to me, "Hook me."

As I stood and hooked her dress, I thought of Paige. Becky was right; Paige had a full figure and showed cleavage. It was possible. Again these were odd thoughts, but comforting.

"I guess your right," I told her.

"Everyday women are having their breast enlarged. It is a common procedure." Becky turned around, "What do you think?"

She looked very sexy, "It looks great on you."

"Hurry up and change," She told me.

We stepped out of the changing room to model the outfits for Aunt Monica. She was still at the front of the store talking on the phone. Becky waved several times before she got Aunt Monica's attention. Aunt Monica continued to talk on the phone as she walked back to us. She stopped several feet away from us. With the phone to her ear she motioned for Becky to turn around. Becky struck a pose, and then she took a few steps forward, struck another pose, turned, walked back, turned then struck a final pose. She did the entire display like she was a model on the runway. Aunt Monica then motioned for me to model the outfit. I tried to imitate Becky.

I made it half way through when Aunt Monica stopped me. "Can you hold for a second?" Aunt Monica covered the phone with her hand. "Becky teach your sister how to properly model a dress," she returned the phone to her ear and turned her back to me.

Becky started telling me how to walk, sticking my toe and not plodding my heel, but to remain light and graceful. I was to take shorter steps and keep my feet aligned, like I was on a balance beam, but don't act like I'm trying to keep my balance. My shoulders needed to stay square with my head up and eyes forward; well poised. What she was telling me to do did not feel like a natural walk, but I tried to do as she asked. After a few practice runs, Becky felt I was ready. She got Aunt Monica's attention. When Aunt Monica motioned for me to start, I did as Becky had instructed. After my final turn, I was proud of how I modeled the dress. I could feel the difference in how the dress moved with my hips. I looked to Aunt Monica for approval.

She placed her hand over the phone, "Exquisite." She then turned and walked away.

I found the exchange odd. Becky grabbed my hand, "Come on lets try on the other outfit."

"Is she always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Spending all her time on the phone."

"Not always, but she is a lawyer. She has clients. She has to do what is needed when it is needed. She doesn't punch a clock like mom."

"I just thought since she would spend the time with us, not working."

"She is with us," Becky started to undress. "This outfit would look great with a pair of black heels and a small black handbag."

Becky mentioned something about a Prada bag, but I did not know what she was talking about. However, she did get me thinking about wearing high heels. The idea of walking in high heels was exciting. I thought about the women I had seen wearing high heels and how they swung their hips when they walked. I wondered if I could walk like that.

"Do you need help?"

"Ah, no, I was just thinking," I started to change.

Becky waited until I was finished changing before stepping out. Aunt Monica was talking to Dave. They both watched Becky model the outfit. Dave clapped and complemented Becky on hot she looked. I didn't clap but I did think Becky looked stylish. I didn't see a trailer trash slut. After Becky stopped, Aunt Monica signaled it was my turn. I did my best to follow Becky's lead. I walked stopped and turned as she instructed me. I liked how the skirt caressed my legs. The fabric was softer then the black dress and flowed with my moves.

"Have you decided?" Aunt Monica asked.

I was disappointed by their non-reaction. Dave clapped a little but neither gave me any compliments. "I would like to try on the red dress over there," I pointed to the red dress I looked at earlier. I didn't care if I spent her money.

"You have excellent taste," as we walked back to the rack, Dave told me about the dress; who the designer was and where the fabric it was made from. He pulled out a dress and handed it to me. He continued to look for a second dress in our size, "Sorry girls, I only have one in your size."

"Oh," I knew Becky wanted us to look like twins but I wanted to know how I would look wearing the dress. I was not sure why I was attracted to the dress. I just was.

"Go ahead and try it on," Becky told me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Will you help me put it on?" Something about the red dress suppressed my inhibitions about changing in front of her.

Becky helped me change into the red dress. As she pulled the zipper up and hooked the clasp I was overcome with pride. Becky wrapped the wide sash around my waist. I sucked in hard so she could hook the clasp. The skirt flared out. I stepped in front of the mirror. The dress was me. I loved the person I saw in the mirror.

"You look hot, lets show Aunt Monica," Becky stated stepping to the door.

When I stepped out the two were waiting for me. I am not sure what came over me, but I wanted to show how sexy I looked. I walked towards Aunt Monica and Dave with attitude. When I stopped, I put my hand on my hips and struck an over the shoulder pose, and then turned and walked back. I loved how the dress swished with the sway of my hips. I could tell by the way Becky's jaw was dropped, I was working the runway. I stopped turned towards her, hands on hips and struck a quarter turn pose.

Dave was clapping, "Girl you are delicious."

Maybe it was my imagination, but the way he said delicious gave me chills.

"I think I know what you want," Aunt Monica declared.

"I really do like the dress, but I also like looking like twins." I turned to Becky, "Which outfit do you like?"

"I like them all, however the Karen Walker goes with the pink make-up you have on. But, it's your birthday you pick."

Becky saw I didn't know which outfit she was talking about, "The blue skirt."

Aunt Monica spoke, "You two can get the Karen walker, and Bobbie you can also have the red dress. However, there is one condition." She paused, I looked at her; "You have to let Becky borrow the dress if she wants."

"Sure," I didn't hesitate. I thought Aunt Monica was being very generous, "Thank you."

She smiled at me, "Happy birthday." I thought that maybe I should give her a thank you hug. Before I could move she told us, "Go change we're not done shopping." She turned and walked back to the cash-register with Dave.

Before Becky started to unzip me she asked me an odd question, "You do know what kind of dress this is?"

I could not remember if either of them mentioned the designer, "A Protsa?"

Becky giggled, "No it is not a Proenza." She started pulling the zipper down. She leaned in and spoke softly, "It is what is known as a red fuck me dress."

"A what?"

"A red fuck me dress. When a girl wants to get laid, this is what she will wear."

"I didn't know. That was not why I chose it; I just thought it looked sexy." I quickly corrected what I said, "pretty."

"Sexy is the right word," She held the dress so I could step out.

I didn't know if I could ever wear the dress in public after what Becky had just told me, but I still wanted the dress. Wearing the dress was an exhilarating experience that I would have to enjoy in private.

Becky and I decided to wear our new outfits out of the store. After Aunt Monica paid I felt bad about getting the red dress. The bill was over a thousand dollars. Mom would be furious if she knew how much was spent on our clothes. Mom has always worried about money. When we would go to McDonalds Mom always worried about the cost of our order. She would never say anything out loud but I learned her gestures. I knew when she was worried about the cost. Aunt Monica joked and laughed with Dave while she signed the credit card receipt. Aunt Monica was not concerned about the cost.

We stood outside of Dave's Store. Aunt Monica checked the time. She then looked down at my shoes. "Before we eat, we need to get you new shoes."

We walked back past her car and the coffee shop. We walked several more blocks to a newer strip mall off the main street. The shoe store was large and maze like with all the different sections and rows of shoes. Aunt Monica knew where we needed to go. We followed her as she weaved her way over to the dress shoes. The selection was overwhelming. I didn't understand why there were so many different styles in women's shoes.

Becky took her time and looked at each shoe as she walked the aisles. I followed not sure what we were looking for. Becky would stop every few feet and pick a shoe up to examine it closer. While she was looking at a short black boot with a high heel; a grayish blue suede Mary Jane pump on a wrapped wedge heel caught my attention. I picked it up.

"That is a great shoe for the outfit," Aunt Monica told me.

Becky turned to see what I had in my hand. "I like that," She stated while taking the shoe out of my hand.

I guess the sales girl saw that we were close to making a decision because she appeared next to us, "Can I help you?"

"Yes we would like to try this on," Becky showed her the Mary Jane. "And this boot," She pointed to the black patent leather ankle boot on a three inch spiked heel.

"OK, let me measure your feet," We followed her to the seating area. First she measured Becky's foot, then mine. I wasn't nervous about being a boy dressed as a girl when we walked into the store; mainly because I forgot. But when the sales girl started touching my feet and the way she looked at me; I became nervous. My first thought was that she knew. It was odd, but I didn't care that Paige and Dave knew who I was. But I cared if this sales girl knew.

She stood up, "I'll be right back with your shoes."

I watched her walk away. She had a nice ass. She wasn't gone long before returning with her arms full of boxes. She set them down then handed each of us a box. Becky and I changed into the Mary Jane shoes first. The heels were only two and a half inches tall but I found it awkward to walk in them.

"You never wore heels before," The sales girl asked.

I tried to determine if that was a snide remark, "No, this is the first time."

"You'll get use to them."

I tried walking like I was modeling. I could feel my skirt swing with my hips. That made me smile.

"Have you ever modeled?" She asked me.

I wondered why she was focusing her attention on me, "No." I looked over at Becky; she was talking to Aunt Monica while walking back and forth in the small area. "Becky is the one who knows about modeling," I told the sales girl.

The sales girl glanced over at Becky, and then she asked me, "How do you like the shoe?"

"It feels good," I told her. "What do you think?" I asked Becky.

"They feel good, and they look great. Let's try on the black ankle boot." She told me.

After I sat down the sales girl helped me change my shoes. She looked at my feet. She was admiring my feet, which I thought was weird. Looking down I could see that her top two blouse buttons were undone. I was able to see her breasts. The breasts looked firm. Her skin looked silky smooth. She had on a nice pink lace bra that followed her tan lines. Not wanting to be caught sneaking a peek; I looked over at Becky. Aunt Monica was looking at me, she smiled.

"You have beautiful feet."

I looked down at the sales girl. I wondered if she was a person with a foot fetish. She was making me uncomfortable, but I told her, "Thanks,"

She finished putting the boots on for me. After she stood, she offered to help me stand. Feeling trapped I accepted her help.

"The spike on these heels will take a little to get use to. Take smaller steps at first." She continued to hold my hand, "How do they feel?"

"They fit good. The heel is high"

"Go ahead and walk around," she let go of my hand.

I walked away from her. After I stopped and turned she asked me to walk back like I was modeling the dress. I wondered if all sales girls were as friendly as she was. However, since I was wearing high heels I wanted to try the walk Becky had shown me. I walked back doing my best impersonation of a model on the runway.

"Very nice. Have you ever considered modeling?" The sales girl asked.

"No," I had a feeling she did not believe me.

She smiled, "You should."

Becky came over, "So which pair do you like best, or do you want to keep looking?"

"I don't know, these are more comfortable," I looked down at the black ankle boots.

"It will be a lot easier to match a purse to black, than the blue suede," Becky told me.

The sales girl gave her opinion, "If you want a shoe for a red dress and what you have on you might consider a metallic silver or white shoe." She then showed us what she had in mind, a silver Mary Jane high heel with a strap.

Becky and I both liked the metallic silver high heel she selected. The shoe was elegant with a casual look. Most shoes on display where open toe or had lots of straps. The shoes looked like a shoe you would wear to a fancy dance. The silver shoe looked like a young girls shoe but with a high heel.

The shoe felt good and looked great on my feet. I didn't care what Becky wanted. I wanted the silver shoe, "I'm getting this."

Becky talked me into trying the white shoe on. It was a wedge similar to the blue suede. It was nice and felt fine, but I wanted the silver.

"I think I'll get the silver," I told the sales girl.

After the girl brought us our shoes Aunt Monica asked her to show us purses. The sales girl took us over to where they had purses and showed us several silver purse and hand bags. I liked a petite coin purse that zipped on the top and had a thin shoulder strap. Becky wanted something bigger that would carry more. She selected a simple seamless fold over. After seeing her carrying the bag, I felt that the simple style went better with the Mary Jane shoes; so I agreed to the purse she wanted.

We wore the shoes out of the store and carried our old shoes in the bags. We walked back to the car laden with packages. Aunt Monica never offered to help carry any of the bags. She took her cell phone out and made a phone call while we walked to the car. Not wanting the red dress to touch the ground, I had to stop and adjust how I was carrying everything. I thought about jogging to catch up, but not in the heels. So I walked behind the two. I watched Becky walk. She walked with confidence, head held up, back straight, swinging her hips. The trailer trash girl didn't exist. I noticed her walk was the same as Aunt Monica's. I realized why Becky loved Aunt Monica; pride. That was the gift Aunt Monica gave and Becky treasured. Deep in my thoughts, I hadn't realized how quickly the walk ended.

Aunt Monica said good buy and closed her cell phone, "I know a great place that serves the best soups and breads. Everything is made fresh. My friend Abbey started the place several years ago. I had met Abbey before. She was Aunt Monica's best friend. They usually traveled together. They had been to the trailer for more then one of our birthdays.

Aunt Monica proceeded to tell us about her trip to Spain with Abbey. I heard the story before, several times. Aunt Monica traveled to Europe every year, usually for Christmas. She always comes back with a funny or interesting story. This was where Abbey loved the soups and breads that this old couple served in their five table café. And, how they went each day for lunch and befriended the old couple. When Abbey asked them if there was a good place to go for Christmas diner, the old couple invited the two to have diner with them. They became friends, Abbey went over every morning after that and helped the old lady in the kitchen. That is how she learned all these fabulous recipes for home made soups and breads. I found it odd how Aunt Monica has twice gone back to spend Christmas with them but has never spent Christmas with us at Grandma's.

The restaurant was what I had expected. An old house, Victorian style, converted into a restaurant. Painted in Mediterranean colors the restaurant stood out from the other house in the neighborhood. We parked in the small lot behind the restaurant. When we entered I saw that the place was busy. There were several people waiting. Aunt Monica had reservations so we were seated right away. Aunt Monica waved to several people while walking to our table. I was confident that I was passing as a girl. My imitation of Becky's movements was becoming normal. To a degree some movements were now natural. I tucked my skirt without thinking about the motion. Some things were new and different. I was fumbling with things because of my long fingernails.

I opened the menu and discovered it was in Spanish. I looked over at the prices to see what I should order. Nothing was under five dollars and only a few items were under ten dollars. I knew enough Spanish to determine that the cheapest soup was eleven dollars and that a house salad was eight dollars. I also realized that I was not going to be able to order a hamburger and fries. I also did not see a burrito on the menu. I closed the menu.

I looked at my fingernails; my long sparkling pink fingernails. Then I flicked my hair and crossed my legs. The joy that I felt earlier returned. I looked over at a young couple. The girl was very pretty. I liked the dark red top she was wearing. It was skin tight which showed off her large breasts. I could see the small bumps of her nipples. Her boyfriend then looked over at me. I quickly turned my attention back to the menu. I thought the girl must have said something to him.

Becky tapped my leg under the table, "Idiot."

In Spanish I asked if she needed help reading the menu.

She glared at me.

"I asked, Do you need help reading the menu?"

"I can read a menu, dumb-ass,"

"Quit acting like little kids," Aunt Monica was annoyed.

The waiter came to take our drink order. Aunt Monica ordered wine. Becky ordered water with a lime twist. I ordered a soda. Aunt Monica tried to encourage me to order one of the iced teas, but I stuck with the soda. When the waiter came back with our drinks, before he could ask us what we wanted, Aunt Monica stated she would order for the table. Aunt Monica's Spanish was good. I was surprised and impressed. I had trouble keeping up and only caught half of what they said. But I figured out we were getting some kind of shrimp soup, an avocado bread and a tomato salad.

While we were waiting for our meal Abbey came to our table. She sat down next to Monica. She greeted Becky then looked at me.

Aunt Monica then introduced me, "This beautiful young girl is Bobby Sue."

Abbey gave me a big toothy smile and extended her hand, "Monica has told me much about you, but she never mentioned how pretty you are."

It was very gratifying to hear those words. I wonder if we saw her, how much she would know. I wondered who else knew. I shook Abbey's hand but looked at Aunt Monica.

"Is that your new outfit? You have been to Dave's then? Don't you just love his stuff? The man has exquisite taste."

Abbey then looked at Becky, "It looks like Paige has worked her magic."

"First thing this morning," Aunt Monica told her.

"You two are picture perfect. You look like twins." Abbey again turned to Aunt Monica, "You never told me they looked like twins."

"That was there idea," Aunt Monica.

Becky leaned in close to me and smiled. I didn't follow her lead. Instead, I pulled my hand back and nudged Becky away. I knew I shouldn't have been, but I was annoyed with Aunt Monica for tell her friend about me. Everybody stopped what they were doing when Aunt Monica's phone rang. She looked at who was calling. Instead of answering the phone she handed it to Becky.

"Hello."

"We're at lunch now."

"Abbey's."

Becky looked at Abbey, "Mom says hi."

"Abbey says hi,"

"It's been great."

"He has never looked happier."

"Oh, what did she want?"

"Yeah we saw them at the movies."

"I didn't mention it because I didn't really think about it."

"Everybody was fine. I think they liked my little sister."

"She mentioned a party. I never committed. I said we would have to ask you."

"I'm sorry. I forgot."

"She lives on the golf course, they're loaded."

"I'm sorry."

"What did you tell her?" Becky looked at Bobbie Sue, "I'll ask."

"Sammie called mom about the party. What do you want to do?"

"I don't want a party."

"He said no."

I was having so much fun I had forgotten about Becky's friends. They were never told why I was dressed like a girl. I never had the chance to explain to them that it was not my idea; that it was part of my punishment. Knowing Cathy every kid in school has received an email from her and now knew about me. If kids saw me now, how would I ever convince them that it is part of my punishment.

"I don't know, I'll ask.""

"Aunt Monica when do you think we will be back?"

"She said by five."

"Bye."

Becky gave the cell phone back to Aunt Monica. She told how Sammie had called mom to ask about throwing me a birthday party. I wondered about Sammie. I had just met her and she wanted to throw me a birthday party. I thought that was strange. I thought it strange that a rich kid would want to associate with trail trash. She must have a hidden motive. She is probably scheming a plan to totally humiliate me. She was somebody I needed to avoid.

Lunch lasted over an hour. Abbey stayed and ate with us. Becky told Abbey all about her prom dress. This time it did not annoy me as much to hear Becky drone on; because I thought about my red dress. Thinking about the red dress lifted my spirits. I wished I was wearing the dress. It was hard for me to comprehend that an article of clothing could have such a positive impact on my mood. Until this week clothes were just clothes, material things. Now when I think about wearing my pink lingerie, or the red dress, there is a feeling of anticipation. An anticipation of feeling joy. Deep in thought I hadn't realized Becky quit talking. When it was time to go Abbey and Aunt Monica kissed, on the lips. I was shocked and surprised. They're lovers. I felt so stupid that I had never put it together before. It was so obvious.

    

  

  

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