The Reproof of Robin
by: Ilean Anne Jerque

 

"Mother," Robin pleaded, "I’m fifteen. I’m too old for this nonsense."

"Yes, you are too old," she shot back, "and I shouldn’t have to keep punishing you by now, but you refuse to learn to behave properly. Now, do I have to take the belt to you, also?"

"It wasn’t my fault! She started it. She pushed me into the lockers."

"It makes no difference," she was cold, "boys and girls shouldn’t be fighting. You should have just walked away."

The boy’s voice dropped to a mumble, "She probably didn’t even know that I was a boy."

His mother’s eyes didn’t flinch from her task of laying out his clothing, "I heard that, and you’re probably right. But until you start acting like a young man instead of like such a ruffian, you will have to accept your punishment. So get yourself dressed. You’ll be in those petticoats all three days of your suspension and for the weekend. And, consider yourself lucky that I do believe that she started the fight or you would be in them until the end of the school year, school and all."

It was bad enough that Robin’s mother made him wear dresses as punishment, but what was really embarrassing was that she made him wear flouncy ruffled and lace "kiddie" clothes that made him look all the more ridiculous. As it was, he was no "Mr. Average" fifteen year old boy. Scrawny by anybody’s standard, he was also pale, and his mother insisted that he keep his hair down to his shoulder blades and his fingernails filed to a teardrop taper of at least half an inch. He wore thick, black, horn rimmed glasses, which he didn’t really need, but it was one concession that his mother allowed after his third black eye. He had made the argument that if other boys were gentlemen, they would respect his wearing of glasses and not hit him. Robin was grateful that that was somewhat true, but he wore them more because they made him harder to recognize on the rare (fortunately) occasions that his mother drug him outside in the little girl’s clothes, and because they hid his eyebrows which were just too thin and femininely arched for a boy.

Wearing a matching white lace bra and panty set, he plopped onto the stool before his mother’s vanity and applied the cheek blush, mascara, and lip gloss that his mother required of him. She stood next to him, nodding in approval, and smiled as he secured four diamond studs into his ears. Sitting with his legs crossed as he applied pearl colored polish to his nails, his mother remarked, "You know, Robin, since you bring up the point that you are fifteen, perhaps you would feel a bit less argumentative in accepting your punishment if I were allow you to look a little more grown-up." The boy nodded in agreement. After a deep breath, she continued, "I’ve noticed that no girls your age, or even younger, wear their hair in ringlets. So tonight, I’ll show you how to roll your hair to achieve volume and softness, as the girls your age do."

It wasn’t much of a concession but at least he wouldn’t look quite as silly as he did with those long, vertical curls, "Thanks, Mother."

Acknowledging his relief to her concession, she smiled, and added, "And since girls your age shave their legs now, you may do that, also."

His eyes grew wide. It was bad enough that he was so pasty looking, but he also had virtually no body hair. Where boys his age were shaving and had bushy pubic growth around their ever enlarging penises, he was bald in both places and his dick hadn’t grown since he couldn’t remember when. The hair on his legs was the most covering he had anywhere: "No! No, please, no. I’ve got two more weeks of gym. The other guys will notice and make fun of me."

"My, my, my" his mother sighed, "when are you going to learn to accept a gift graciously. Well, I’ll have to do it myself. Come into the bathroom and prop your leg up on the edge of the tub."

Being careful not to mar his nail polish -- last time he did, he had to wear it to school the next day -- he obeyed her instructions while tears trickled to his chin. Shaking a pink can of shaving gel, she squirted a glob into her hand and painted his leg with the flowery scented goo, from toes to groin, rubbing it until it was encased in a cast of white foam. Then carefully, she cut away the hair and foam with a ladies razor, until his leg was polish smooth and shiny. "There," she beamed, "so much cleaner and nicer. Boys should learn to appreciate such things. Your nails should be dry by now, so you can do your other leg, or not, it’s up to you."

"Some choice," he mumbled to himself, and snatched the can of gel off the counter.

When he finished, his mother appeared with her rollers and a big jar of setting gel. Showing him a new pattern to section off strands and then thinly coating them with gel, she wound his still moist hair on two inch rollers. After one side was done, the boy was required to roll the other side to match.

Back in the bedroom, the ceiling fan blew in cool waves on his bare legs. Pulling on the pastel green socks that matched the dress he was about to don, he then slid his feet into white Mary Janes that had one and one-half inch walking heels. Assisting him with two full petticoats, his mother smiled in satisfaction when she zipped closed the pastel green party dress that would have looked at home on any eight year old.

She then took out her bonnet dryer and covered the rollers, taking care to expose his diamond studs to prevent them from getting too hot, and turned it on light. With the warm air swirling on his head, he applied another coat of pearl to his nails and then had to sit with his knees and ankles together, his hands laid palms down in his lap, until the nails were dry enough to apply a top coat.

By the time the top coat was hard enough to touch, his hair was mostly dry. His mother signaled him to the vanity where she had him apply some White Diamonds and pluck a few arrant hairs from his brows. Using a small fan, she finished cooling his hair and began to unwind the curls.

The boy winced as they sprung free from the rollers and snapped back to his head. She smiled, "Your hair is so thick and takes a curl so well. Any girl would be envious to have such natural body and fullness."

Crushing each curl from the sides to break the setting gel, she instructed the boy to lean forward and brush his hair until all the curls were loose and free flowing. This done, she had him swing his hair back to clear it from his face. As he did this, his hair flew wide in a glowing blonde mass. His eyes popped in surprise, "Mother, I’m blonde!"

"Surprise, sweetheart," she gushed. "That new rinse I had you use was a temporary hair color as well as a conditioner. Look how pretty your hair is, so light and shiny. And look how full. Now, if we’re careful, we can gently brush down the wild ends and smooth your look." She did just that and then set the boy’s fluffed hair with half a can of hair spray.

His hair was indeed pretty, flowing in rolling cascades over his shoulders and spilling over onto his arms. Looking at himself, encased in all that femininity, he sat in shock until his heart sank. He knew ‘that sound’ in his mother’s voice, "You’re so pretty tonight. Let’s go out and eat and see if your manners are improved over what they were today."

The boy cringed at the words, "Mother, you’ve recognized that I’m too old to wear ringlets, can you not also see that I’m too old to wear these little girl clothes? I mean, it’s embarrassing enough that you make me dress like a girl but then you make us both look ridiculous by making me wear this prissy baby stuff."

Her eyebrow raised, "And how do I look ridiculous by you wearing that dress?"

She was actually listening! He had to make the point now, "Haven’t you seen how people look at me whenever you drag me out somewhere?"

"They are looking at my bad boy," she said sternly.

"They don’t even realize that I’m a boy. They are just looking at the weird girl and her strange mother, because no mother would ever make a fifteen year old girl wear such ridiculous clothing!" he was loud, barely able to control himself. He was desperate.

She said nothing. Crossing to her bed, she sat pondering the thought. Her eyes refocused on her son, "You’re not going to get out of being punished. I want to go out and eat tonight and you are going with me. What would you suggest we do?"

Shocked almost to the point of stupor, he had to think fast. Having succeeded in getting her to realize how outlandish he looked, he could take no chance on losing it. Only one possibility remained, "Let me wear something more realistic. Let me wear something like you would wear."

Pausing a moment before she responded, "I suppose that I could let you wear something of mine. We are near the same size. But, I don’t agree with sharing clothes. I will consider letting you select what you wish to wear when you are being punished but we’ll have to get you your own clothes. Choose something for now, we’ll start shopping for your own clothing after dinner."

Leaping from the stool, he skipped to his mother and kissed her on the cheek and hugged her, "Thank you, Mom! Thank you."

Chuckling, she added, "Now you remember, I expect you to select something that is feminine. I do want you to remember that you are dressing as a girl because you must learn to behave less like a ruffian."

Stripping back to his panty and bra, he followed his mother to her closet. She dug around in some of her dresses and produced a red evening dress with puffy shoulders, an elasticized middle, a flaring skirt, and a scoop neckline front and back. Holding it in front of the boy, she assessed, "This is a little small for me so it should fit you well. It is a bit dressy for dinner and shopping, don’t you think?"

As compared to the silly outfit lying on the bed, it was beautiful, "Ahhh, no, Mom. That will be just fine."

"Well," she said almost exasperated, "you won’t be able to wear this with so little under it, it’s not proper. If you’re going to dress more grown-up, you’ll have to learn how to do it properly. We’ll start with your bra. Wearing this dress will require more up there than you have. I have a padded, side-strap bra that I haven’t worn in years. That should do the trick." Digging in her bottom drawer, she produced what was clearly a bra but the part that went around one’s chest was about a foot long, reaching to the top of the hips, and the straps just looped over one’s shoulders instead of actually holding up the cups. After removing the lacy bra, mother slid the straps over the boy’s arms and began to hook-up the back. It was a bit small; he had to raise his arms and hang from his mother’s bed posts so that she could get the hooks home. When finished, the bra crushed his ribs and squeezed his waist down two inches. Then she had him lean forward and she reached into the bra and worked his skin from under his arms, from around his back, and from around his ribs toward the top of the bra. Standing, the boy’s skin fell into the already almost full cups and gave him a pronounced B cup, cleavage and all.

He poked at his ‘breasts’ and watched the loose skin respond much as if they were made of Jell-O. "Good, god," he said softly, "I’ve got boobs."

‘Yes, my sweet,’ his mother smiled at him, "girls your age have them, if you haven’t noticed."

Next she pulled a pair of panty hose from a top drawer, "You’ll have to wear these." Motioning him to sit, she showed him how to roll the sheer color and carefully spread it up his legs. Lifting the dress above him, she pulled it down onto his body. The elastic seams clung to him, pronouncing the curves of his bust and whittled waist, and the full skirt gave him a classic female lower half where there was little. Twisting the dress until it was sitting perfectly on the lad, she then went for shoes. Returning with a pair of black patent leather, three inch heels, she explained, "I’m sorry, Robin, but that dress just won’t work with flats, you’ll have to wear heels."

This he hadn’t counted on, "But, Mom, I don’t know how to walk in those things."

"Well then," she said sternly, "this will be a good punishment for you, and even more so if the shoes don’t fit." She pushed the boy’s toes into the points and pressed the end around his heel. It went on with no resistance. "They fit," she said with disdain, ‘I suppose that walking in them will have to be punishment enough." Robin grinned.

Having him stand, she motioned him to turn around. Satisfied, she had one adjustment to make, "Those nails are the wrong color. Find a red to match that dress and cover that pearl polish while I get ready." The boy repainted his nails as she dressed.

After being presented with a black patent leather purse and his mother’s black pearl necklace and earrings, mother and son were off to dine. She chose an up class eatery in the mall, making it convenient for shopping, also. They ate on the patio, so to speak as it was located in the walkway of the mall, where the boy was sure to be in clear view of anyone who happened by. And view they did, for Wednesday night was the night that Explorer troop 1274 held their weekly meeting in the mall, in the community room just two doors down from the restaurant. As fate would have it, mother and son were just exiting from their table as the meeting ended. The pair had covered the thirty feet toward the community room just as 23 young men came pouring from the doors. Robin gasp and held his breath as he passed the ranks of ogle-eyed Eagle Scouts.

"Why, Robin," his mother observed, "you were absolutely afraid to have those boys look at you. Before, when we went out, you would just turn your head and not pay any attention to people’s stares."

He nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, before people were looking at a strange girl. Those boys were looking at me because they thought I was an attractive girl."

"Is that so?" she prodded him.

"You couldn’t see it?" he asked not realizing what was coming. "They were looking at a girl, not at something weird."

"Yes, yes, I see," she said with a scheming note to her voice. "Your reaction to them was exactly what I had been wanting you to feel with your punishment. Now I see that having you look like an attractive girl is more punishment than having you look like a baby girl. This has certainly been an enlightening evening." Robin’s eyes grew wide at the realization of the implication of her words. Her scheming voice continued, "Let’s go see what we can get that boys would find a fifteen year old girl attractive in."

"Mother," Robin whined, "you make it sound like you want me to dress like a girl, not like it’s punishment."

"Do you like dressing like a girl?" she asked him. He shook his head. With a single exaggerated nod of her head, she said sternly, ‘Then that is the punishment you will be receiving until you can behave more gentlemanly and less like a ruffian."

For the next three days, Robin found himself in feminine, even somewhat sexy, dresses, blouses, and skirts, and, with every outfit, high heels. His mother also bought him three more of the crushing bras, a black one, and two nude ones, one for wearing at night for, as she explained it, his punishment didn’t stop with the setting of the sun.

On Friday, while they were shopping, Robin was poking through a rack of purses -- his mother told him to select one that went with his new lavender dress -- he perchanced to pick-up a purse from the pile that actually belonged to a lady that had sat it down while she looked inside one of the new purses. When he felt the weight, Robin opened the purse to see what made it so heavy. The lady, discovering him holding the open purse, said nothing but punched him in the stomach and grabbed the purse from him. Robin, bent over from the impact, recovered and swung, landing a good shot on the woman’s jaw, knocking her to the ground. His mother listened to his story but only saw him decking the woman and that wasn’t what young men do.

On Saturday, Robin’s mother surprised him with a trip to the beauty salon, explaining, "Well, you apparently haven’t learned much, so perhaps a little more feminine appearance is what you need to insure that you will want to stay out of dresses." Treated to a perm, a facial, a complete make-up session, a leg waxing, a pedicure, and some inch long fiberglass nails, Robin left the salon glowing in femininity.

"Mother," Robin said through small tears, "how could you do this to me? These curls aren’t going to come out before school starts Monday. When the guys see me in gym, with my hair like this and my bare legs, one of them is going to start something."

Ignoring the logic of what the boy said, his mother simplified the possible situation, "Then you’ll just have to turn your back and walk away."

"But it’s not like that," he tried to explain. "If you walk away it just eggs them on. They think you’re scared or weak."

His mother interrupted him, "Well, then they will have to think that of you. You must be the big one and avoid the altercation. Now, I don’t want to hear any more about it."

"But, Mom!"

"No more, I said," she pointed her finger at his nose.

Sunday night, Robin found himself in a black evening dress with huge red lily print up one side. It was very flattering on the boy, and he, or rather ‘she,’ received many compliments while they were at the symphony, an unexpected ‘pleasure’ for him. After the grueling three hours were over, mother and son went out for a late supper, finally arriving home shortly after midnight. Robin was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as he got his clothes and make-up off.

When Monday morning and school came, both he and his mother had overslept. Hurried by his mother, Robin dressed quickly, grabbed some pop tarts for breakfast, and was out to catch the bus in ten minutes flat. About ten minutes after that he woke-up enough to realize that everyone was looking at his inch long, deep red fingernails, and questioning why his hair was so wavy and blonde, even though it was pulled tight into ponytail and hidden under his shirt collar. In truth, the curls, their color darkening as the rinse weakened from his almost nightly washes, were so thick that they lifted the back of his shirt giving him a hunchback appearance.

Through lunch, he had managed to keep his nails mostly hidden and tried to ignore the snickers and taunts about his hair. He had asked a couple of the girls which he was friendly with, if they had polish remover but neither did. One had a small pair of nail scissors but they weren’t heavy enough to do anything but scratch the fiber nails. Finally gym class loomed before him.

Sure enough, in the locker room, Robin became the object of many whispered conversations and giggles. There were more taunts, whistles and cat-calls when he exposed his smooth legs. Off in one corner was a boy named Russ. He was fairly new to the school, transferring in from New York a few months before. The thing that caught Robin’s eye about him was that he was the only one that was looking at him and not laughing, instead, he had a curious, half-smile on his face. Robin was trying to figure out his expression when a hand suddenly slid down his leg.

"Pretty, pretty," Kenny Prichard, a prime bully and punk was attached to the hand. Grabbing Robin’s ponytail, he jerked the rubber band holding it, snapping the band, and freeing the boy’s thick curls to fluff over his shoulders. Stepping in front of Robin, his big erection, still encased in jockey shorts, almost touched Robin’s nose. "How about a blow job for a friend, Missy Robin?" He put his hand behind the boy’s head to pull it to the erect organ.

Robin could hear the parting of the air and the solid ‘whump’ that sent Kenny staggering backward, crumpled over, before he saw the fist that caved in the bully’s stomach. At the other end of the fist was Russ. Russ stood over the bully, who was laying on the floor, on his back, in a fetal curl, gasping for air.

Blocking the bully’s knees so he couldn’t kick, Russ taunted him, "He didn’t look like he was interested in giving you a blow job, so I did. How’d you like it?"

Kenny grabbed enough air to squeeze out, "I’ll get you for this."

Russ almost dove into the boy but his feet never left the ground. Instead he came back to a fully upright position, lifting the bully from the ground by his throat. He hissed into the vanquished face, "You’d better kill me on your first try, pussy, because I’ll kill you if you don’t." The bully was clawing at Russ’ hand, trying for air. Russ had something else to say first: "And if I ever find out that you’ve done anything to the pasty kid, I’ll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat with my fist." He threw the bully onto the floor, cracking his head hard on the tile. Turning to Robin, he said, "I won’t be able to be around every time you need protection but I’ll be around to serve up some retaliation." He threw a wet towel into the face of one of Kenny’s conies and stepped on the other’s toe as he walked away.

Robin turned to look into the coach’s office. The coach had a clear view of all that happened. He grinned when he saw Robin looking at him, winked, turned his back and walked away. Kenney didn’t appear in the gym until after the warm-up exercises had been completed, and then he appeared with an ice bag held to the knot on the back of his head.

The word spread quickly about Robin’s guardian and about his power. There were still hushed conversations and broken stares when Robin walked down the halls but no one said anything aloud to him for the rest of the semester.

The last day of school was a finals day, and gym was Robin’s last final. It started at one and was to last till three-thirty that afternoon. He never made it to the final. After an isolated lunch, Robin had to answer the call of nature. Kenny and his conies snuck into the otherwise deserted hallway and into the bathroom occupied solely by Robin. They skulked away as undetected as they entered.

Robin was found just before one, his face bloody and distorted, painfully breathing, but his fight had been more sufficient then his attackers would have believed, for they left him injured but alive and un-raped. There was only Robin’s word on who assaulted him, no witnesses. The doctors said that he had several loose teeth, two broken ribs, a cracked cheek bone, and his nose was broken above the cartilage and the cartilage had been torn loose. Surgery was performed on his nose but some bone and cartilage had to be removed to facilitate their rejoining correctly, temporary braces were required to prevent tooth loss, a small screw had to be used to hold his cheekbone together, and, at his mother’s insistence since he was already in surgery, cheek implants were added to the boy’s cheek structure to help stabilize the broken cheek and enhance both.

It took the boy two weeks to recover, but by then there had been three more assaults --not on Robin. Kenny’s conies had both spent a couple of days in the hospital for contusions to their faces, torsos, and testicles. Kenny spent a week there, aside from similar injuries, one of his testicles had been removed, apparently by a pocket knife, and he had to have emergency surgery for a herniated esophagus, apparently caused by someone shoving something big into his throat. The boys all refused to give the police any information on their assailant(s).

By the end of June, Robin was just fine, aside from some soreness in his ribs and a little discoloration around his decidedly smaller nose. Between the latter and his high and full cheeks, he was feeling more uncomfortable about his rather feminine appearance than his injuries. Trying to talk to his mother about his face naturally didn’t get him anywhere. In fact, he was having to walk on egg shells around her as she believed that he had a part in his beating and was only not punishing him all summer because she gave him the benefit of the doubt since he did claim that there were three of them and he would have to be a complete idiot to start a fight with three boys at once.

It was Saturday and Richie Booth, a nerd that had kept up a friendship with him, asked him if he wanted to go to the mall, play video games, and hang out. Robin’s mother agreed with some conditions, first that he wear panties and one of his long line bras, so that he, "would be reminded what would be in store for him if he were to pick any more fights." Second, she had bought him some new shorts and a top and she wanted him to wear them and some sandals rather than his usual "scruffy" attire.

These were barely acceptable conditions. The shorts were khaki but the legs were kind-of wide and cuffed and the hair on his legs hadn’t grown out much since they were waxed and they still almost looked hairless. The top was an off-white knit and loose enough to hide the bra except for the cups. This problem was somewhat solved when he discovered that he could remove the light padding and fold the cups down under the elastic. This removed any appearance of "female bumps" but the bra still held his pectorals in a prominent position on his chest and caused his nipples to poke into the soft knit. Unless one was actually looking at his chest it wasn’t noticeable but it did strike him as odd that they poked out so much. It would do.

After about an hour of video games, the boys wanted another distraction. Richie suggested that they cruise the mall for a while and check out the chicks. Robin was certainly agreeable to that. There were lots of teens milling through the mall, boys checking-out girls, girls checking-out boys, and the occasional guy checking out Robin. He was a bit confused by this until he stopped next to a display that had a black cloth draped over a frame as part of it’s make-up. The black cloth caused the glass window to mirror his reflection, giving Robin an opportunity to get a good look at himself. His hair, no longer curly but wavy, had loosened in the rubber band and now laid sprayed between his shoulders and puffed around his head and over his ears. And, apparently in the process of actively playing video games, his pecs had climbed farther into the cups of the bra and now gave a more prominent appearance to his chest and his nipples made definite points in the material. He had removed his thick rimmed glasses because of the glare from the video screen and his thin eyebrows could be easily seen, which, when coupled with his reduced nose and high cheekbones, and the rest of the package, made him look like a lanky, tall, twelve or thirteen year old girl.

Pulling his ponytail tight and stuffing it under his collar and putting on his glasses really didn’t help much. He then looked like a twelve or thirteen year old girl with boy’s glasses on and her hair pulled down and stuffed into her shirt. This wasn’t working. He stuck out more as a boy than as a girl. In an effort to avoid stares, he removed his glasses and untucked his hair, pulling the ponytail high on the back of his head. The effect was very girlish but less obvious. Richie never noticed the change, or never said anything.

The new Jackie Chan movie was playing at the Cinema 11. Richie knew how to sneak in through the exits. Robin was leery that they might be caught but his friend assured him that he did it often and had never even been close to being caught. As an incentive, Richie said that if someone did catch them, he would fall back and let Robin run away because Richie wouldn’t have to suffer the punishment that Robin probably would have to endure.

Getting in through the exit door wasn’t hard. One of the doors never shut right and all they had to do was peek inside, see when the coast was clear, pull the door open, and walk in. Getting into the theater itself was tricker.

The exits were all connected by a central hallway that lead to the outside doors. Simply going through one of the theater exits would set off an alarm and there would be many witnesses. About three-fourths down the length of the hallway, a piece of plywood covered the back entrance of an empty shop space. Adjacent to the empty space was the theater. The plywood looked secure but would pull away from the wall on one corner.

The boys squeezed through the small opening and crossed the dimly light empty shop without any problem. The theater wall had a large crack in it and the plaster wall could be pushed forward allowing access to the entrance area of one of the theaters. A curtain was draped over crack on the other side, providing the perfect cover for a clandestine entrance. Richie went first, pushing open the crack and pulling the curtain just enough to get a view of the hallway. When the hallway was empty, he squeezed out.

He had only gotten away a few steps when the movie ended. Robin had to wait over ten minutes till the hallway cleared and he could make his entrance. No one had been in the hallway for almost a minute, so he squeezed out. Just on the other side of the curtain, he was grabbed by a large boy in a theater jacket, who had been sweeping the hallway with a broom and dustpan.

Robin spun and pulled from the boy’s grasp and tried to run. He had only gotten a few steps when his head was jerked back by the boy’s firm grip on his ponytail. The boy’s voice boomed, "Hold up there, missy. You ain’t going anywhere."

Robin tried to pry the boy’s fingers from his hair but the grip was too strong. Frightened, he kicked the usher in the balls and punched him in the face when he bent over. The boy never let go but did manage to jerk Robin off his feet and slam his head into the wall. Robin’s eyes rolled back in his head and his vision blanked.

He was out only about a minute but it was long enough for the usher to be joined by two more. They took Robin by the arms and feet, carrying him to the office. No police were called but Robin’s mother showed in fifteen minutes. She took the boy to the emergency room where tests were run until the doctor was reasonably sure that Robin was not suffering from anything more than a bumped head. On the way home, she assured Robin that she was not going to take his behavior lightly.

At home, she instructed him to shower and wash his hair while she prepared his punishment. Sudsing himself, he stood under the water in foreboding disdain of what would come next. He exited at his mother’s call.

In his room, all of his boy’s clothes had been removed from his closet and drawers, leaving nothing but the female items. She announced his sentence, "It seems that spending a few days dresses hasn’t instilled in you the desire to avoid conflict. We’ll see what spending the rest of your summer in them will do." Like he couldn’t have seen that one coming.

Sunday was rather uneventful, he spent the entire day cleaning the house, looking as if he took lessons in home care from June Cleaver. He wore a lace trimmed, white apron over a pretty light blue dress, his hair curled but in a bouncy ponytail, this time secured with a white lace bow, and, of course, white heels. It surprised him that he wasn’t required to shave his legs even though he had to wear pantyhose. After cooking the evening meal and cleaning up, he was told to go to bed early.

Monday morning, his mother took-off from work to drag her son to the beauty parlor. Again his legs were waxed, and this time his brows, his hands again sported long fiber nails, again he had a facial and make-over, and again his hair was permed, but this time it was also dyed light blonde and cut into a very feminine style that included eye-framing, bouncy bangs. Just as he thought that the torture was over, his mother stopped him, handing him a bag and instructing him to: "put these on." It was a B cup bra and two silicon breast forms. His mother and he went into the bathroom where he donned the bra and slid the forms into the cups. His mother added, "You have to dress yourself into the cups like this..." She slid her hand into the bra and grabbed a handful of his chest, pulling it up into the cups and positioning the skin above each form. The result was dramatic. Rounded and high, Robin now clearly had breasts. After all this, she took him to a doctor.

Dr. Carl was somebody new to Robin. He had the boy undress and gave him a very through exam, paying particular attention to his balls and chest. Dr. Carl explained that he was aware of the problems he was having with his aggressive attitude and felt that his mother was using a rather unorthodox scheme to try to curb his propensity for fighting. Further, he explained that he was going to give him a shot of "attitude adjusters" to help him resist his aggressive emotions and not to be afraid of them because his mother had been giving them to him for several months in his food but that the drops were apparently not strong enough when ingested. Also, the dosage of the large mint tasting pill that he had been taking every day to help him curb his aggressiveness would be increased to two a day, upon waking and after dinner. The doctor then loaded a syringe with a yellowish liquid, dabbed a spot on Robin’s left cheek, and pushed the needle into the boy’s butt. Robin felt creepy when the doctor smiled as he pushed the plunger home. The session would be repeated every Monday.

Dr. Carl had some more "good" news for him. Since his mother didn’t want him simply lounging around the house all summer, especially playing those aggressive video games, Dr. Carl was going to let him work in the office as a receptionist. He grinned, "Every day, you start work at eight AM. You will work till five, with an hour lunch. You can wear whatever you like, but just remember, you are representing the professional people in this office so I will expect you to look nice. This pretty apricot sun dress with the bolero jacket is perfect and looks very nice on you."

Robin’s eyebrows screwed, "You know I’m a boy in a dress and you want me to represent these, as you say, professional people, and you? What if someone finds out about me? What will that do to your professional reputation?"

"I won’t be telling anyone," he said flatly, "will you? I won’t even tell my staff. To them you will just be Robin Sherman, a patient, our summer receptionist, and a girl. I will alter my records to reflect just that. I think that you should know that while I’m doing this as a favor to your mother, I’m also doing it as a favor to you.. She was saying that she was going to get you on in the women’s wear department of her store. I had this position open and thought that you might prefer it, but it is up to you."

The boy thought about the long days in dresses to come, but preferred the limited exposure of the doctor’s office to being forced to work at Sachs, even if it was a classy store. He nodded, said a quiet, "Thank you," to the doctor, and moped out the door, with tears creeping from the corners of his eyes.

It only took Robin a couple of days to learn his job. The others on the staff were very friendly and not only appeared as if they didn’t know he was a boy but also didn’t appear to figure it out. By Friday, he was feeling rather comfortable in his role, even if it meant that he spent every day in dresses and heels.

Dr. Carl approached him as he was leaving for the weekend, "Well, Robin, you seem to have taken very nicely to your job. The staff all thinks you are a sweet girl. How are you feeling?"

Unavoidably displaying a small smile, "I still don’t want to be here but it isn’t as bad as I thought."

Dr. Carl’s accent was heavier when he smiled, "You’ll be alright. Here, I have a little gift for you." While assimilating into the office staff, Robin had stated that loved those salty Japanese plums. Apparently the word had gotten back to Dr. Carl. He held out a small jar of the snacks to the lad, "I know that your mother is keeping your diet somewhat restricted. Here’s a bit of indulgence for you. I hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoy having you here."

Stuffing the jar into his purse, he thanked the doctor and exited into the main lobby waiting area where he sat until his mother showed to pick him up. When she showed, she was noticeably excited. A man that she had talked to in the store on several occasions had asked her out. They were to have dinner that evening, but there was a problem. He was a single parent, a widower, with two young children, a girl and a boy. Robin was informed that he would be babysitting that evening.

After a trip home, Robin was allowed to wear a shorts set because he put-up no fuss about the evening. The man’s name was Richard Bates. He was a little older than Robin’s mother, and his children were from his second marriage. His daughter was Becky, 10, and his son was Paul, 9.

The kids were no trouble at all, they washed the dishes from dinner, without being asked, and then settled down to play a video game. After a while, Becky grew tired of the game and asked her brother if he wanted to play dress up. He agreed and the kids headed upstairs. Robin didn’t follow for ten minutes, until curiosity got the better of him.

Climbing the stairs, he found them both in "Sunday" dresses, and both applying make-up. Robin was shocked, "What ever are you doing?"

"Playing dress-up," Paul answered easily.

Becky explained, "Mommy used to dress us up for fun. Sometimes Patty is my sister, and sometimes I’m Brent, Paul’s brother. Daddy said it was OK if we still play as long as we don’t go outside without him."

Robin was somewhat bothered by the frocked boy, "Your dad lets you wear dresses?" he asked the boy.

Paul nodded, "Yes. He cut my hair shorter after Mommy died in the car accident but he still lets me be Patty sometimes. See," the boy curled a lock of hair around his finger, "I can still curl my hair but it isn’t long and pretty like Becky’s anymore. Would you like to curl it for me? Daddy won’t let Becky or me curl it unless he’s here but I think he wouldn’t mind if you curled it for me."

A little lump formed in Robin’s stomach,"You like having your hair curled like a girl?"

"It’s just for play," the little boy answered while returning to deftly applying blush under his cheekbones, "just like make-up. Daddy thinks I’m real good at putting on make-up. Do you think so?"

The boy’s face was indeed painted well. Robin agreed and then agreed to curling his hair with the curling iron when he asked again. Becky then insisted that Robin curl her hair. When all was finished, the two clearly appeared to be siblings, female siblings. Patty then took Robin into Becky’s closet to show him "Patty’s" clothes. Robin rummaged through the pretty dresses, not noticing that Becky had disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a black velvet gown draped over her arms, "Here, Robin. Now you can play dress-up with us." She offered the gown to Robin.

At first Robin tried to refuse, arguing that the gown obviously must have belonged to their mother. Becky’s doe eyes turned to Robin, "My Momma’s dead. But, she wouldn’t mind even if she were alive. She always let her friends borrow clothes." Robin melted.

The gown was shoulder less with a key-hole collar and a corresponding key-hole in the front of the dress to expose cleavage. The gown was indeed pretty and intrigued Robin despite his reluctance to dress in something so obviously female. With Patty’s prodding, Robin headed to the bathroom to change.

He had stripped to his underwear when there was a knock on the door. Becky was holding out a black, strapless bra, black pantyhose, and some 3 &1/2 or 4 inch black heels, "You’ll need these. I got Momma’s tallest heels because I think you’re just a little bit shorter than her and the dress was a bit long on her." Robin thanked her and took the garments.

Getting the bra on, up, and in position took some effort, even with the hooks in the last position. Sliding the forms in place and dressing his breasts, he winced as his nails scraped ever so slightly over his nipples. They had become very sensitive the past couple of days and the sore spot that had appeared beneath each one a couple of weeks ago, had now swollen to be a noticeable knot. Carefully gliding on the nylons, he stepped into the gown. Hooking the collar behind his neck, the key-hole slot in the front of the gown did exactly what it was supposed to do: frame and make ever so apparent his cleavage. Dipping into the tall heels, they snugged around his feet without cramping or sloshing. Barely able to breathe in the bra, he wondered how difficult it was going to be to get the gown’s zipper up. Twisting to grip the device, with a pull, the gown secured snugly to him with little fuss. Tugging at the top of the bra to reseat it, Robin looked in the mirror. He was pretty. Denying it would do no good, the gown fit him like a glove and removed any trace of his maleness even in his own eyes. A shudder climbed his spine and he felt his nipples harden. "Oh, god," he whispered to himself, "that is not the reaction of a boy." With a shake of his hair and a flick of his eyes, he opened the door and joined the children. They were both open-mouthed impressed.

They played with Becky’s dolls and "had tea," literally, in the living room, and then the kids cleaned-up everything and washed-up before bed without being told. Tucking Paul into bed, Robin was concerned that the boy’s hair was still wavy and girlish looking. "It’s OK," the boy assured him, "Daddy doesn’t mind. Goodnight," the boy grabbed Robin’s neck and hugged him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

Unable not to, Robin grinned broadly, "Goodnight, sweetheart." As the boy turned to his side Robin slid the covers over his shoulders and kissed his forehead. Walking from the room, he suddenly realized that kissing the boy was something typically feminine, but more than that, he had never called anyone "sweetheart" before. To him it was also something typically feminine. Perhaps his wearing of dresses was having more of an effect on him than he was aware, he thought to himself. With a quick tug to adjust his bra, Robin glided from the room.

With the children securely tucked in, he started for the bathroom to change. Passing the master bedroom, he noticed that the jewelry box on the dresser was open. In curiosity, and also believing that Becky opened it and that it should be closed before Richard returned, Robin crossed to the box. There were many nice pieces of jewelry. Catching his eye was an onyx necklace and earring set that had apparently been removed and dropped back into the box. It would seem that black stones belted with tiny diamonds were intended to have been worn with this gown. With trembling fingers, he clasp the thin chain around his neck. The chain disappeared beneath the collar of the gown and the pendant dropped to the center of his cleavage. Removing his studs, he slipped the onyx posts into his ears. Stepping back to get a better look of himself in the mirror, he fluffed his hair with his fingers and struck a modeling pose, slipping out a hip to accent his lower curves and pulling back his shoulders to accent his upper curves. Tilting his head down slightly and to the right, he raised his eyes in sultry practice to his reflection. He did look good. He did look like a woman. This fact was confirmed by Richard’s drawn out wolf whistle from the bedroom door.

Robin’s head snapped so hard that he lost his balance and had to fall onto the dresser to avoid crashing to the floor. Even at that, his body went slack in faint and Richard had to catch him to keep the crash from happening anyway. "Oh, god," he weakly said as he struggled to remain conscious. He came around quickly and was finally able to get a breath. Richard was still supporting him as his feet became solid beneath his body. Looking into the man’s eyes, his first thought was apology, "I’m sorry. The kids and I were playing dress-up. I’m sorry I wore your wife’s gown."

Richard giggled, "Well don’t be sorry. You look a hell of a lot better in it than she did. It was a touch small on her and her fat would creep up and spill out under her shoulders. I hated her in that thing. You, on the other hand, do it justice. In fact, you look damn sexy in it."

"I’ll get out of it right away," Robin’s embarrassment tinted his face red.

"Uhp, uhp, uhp. Now don’t be in such a rush," Richard scolded the red faced girl. "First I think that your mother should see you in that gown. I’m sure that she will be impressed with how beautiful it looks on you, and second, I’ve been toying with what to do with Barbara’s clothes for several months. If they fit you that well, I think that I’ve just decided what to do with them." Giving the girl a shake at the waist to make sure she was firmly on her feet, he went on, "OK. You follow me. I want to go announce you."

Moving quickly to the top of the stairs, he waited till Robin caught-up. Halting the girl with a hand gesture, he bounded down the stairs. Robin could hear him: "I’ve got something to show you. Presenting Miss Robin Sherman." Robin took the Que and carefully started down the stairs in the tall heels.

He heard his mother gasp but concentrated on making each step. At the bottom he turned to face her. Her hands were over her mouth but she moved them enough to voice her opnion of her son, "Robin, you’re...you’re dazzling!" He knew she was prejudiced but he was kind of feeling that way.

Doing a slow turn, he stopped to face his mother, who had now dropped her hands and was clearly enthralled with her boy. A bit uncomfortable with the silence, Robin asked, "This looks really nice on me. Richard wants me to keep it. Can I?" Realizing that this was the first article of female attire that he ever wanted to have, she nodded her agreement, but couldn’t open her mouth for having to think to talk would destroy the image that was burning itself forever into her memory.

A few of Barbra’s things remained in the closet, those things that were ‘too old’ for him or those things for which Richard felt the children might have some special attachment. There were also some odds and ends left in the dresser. Only a few pieces of jewelry and a couple of bottles of perfume remained, the rest of Barbra’s amassed personals traveled to Robin’s home. He really didn’t want all the stuff. He only wanted the gown, and maybe the jewels and shoes that went with it, but Richard insisted, and his mother agreed, so he now had a room crammed with female clothing, probably outweighing his male clothing by something on the order of fifteen or twenty to one. There were twenty-six pairs of shoes, nineteen of them heels, giving him a total of twenty nine pairs of women’s shoes and three pair of male shoes. Sitting on his laden bed, he was feeling a bit overwhelmed. The velvet gown hung on the back of his door, the onyx pieces also hanging on the hanger. When he looked at the pile of clothes his face was blank, but when he looked at the gown, he smiled.

As he readied for work Monday, he felt that something was wrong, or maybe that something was out of place. Narrowing his attention to the blouse and skirt that he was about to wear, he claimed them to be the source of the feeling, even though he really didn’t feel that way. Fastening himself into the clothes, he could no longer hold them accountable, as he actually looked rather good in the slightly more mature attire. He decided to hold his job responsible for the feeling, though, like the clothes, it didn’t truly seem to be the origin of what had now grown to be a foreboding. Actually the job was fine, the money was good, the people were nice, the ‘dress’ requirement was...well, he was getting used to it. He slid his feet into a burgundy pair of heels and checked his appearance in the mirror: smashing, mature, fish. He grinned. If he had to play girl for the summer, at least he looked hot.

Monday mornings were always a bit uncoordinated around the office. Normally Robin took lunch with several of the girls from the office but he was alone today. Half a block away from the office was a convenience store where he grabbed two hot dogs and a bottle of Dr. Pepper for lunch. It only took twenty minutes round trip including eating. Lacking company, he decided to go up to the observation deck and kill the rest of his lunch hour. The elevators were dragging with people going or coming. There were two freight elevators on the other side of the building and even though most people knew of them, few used them. Traipsing to their location, he found both above but only one apparently in use. Pushing the button, he looked out the service door toward the highway and daydreamed of nothing in particular.

"Whatever out there could hold your interest so completely?" a voice asked from behind him.

Turning, he came face to face, or rather nose to chin, with Tony Winters, a boy from school and also from his neighborhood, in fact, he could see the attic vent of Tony’s house from his bedroom. His knees became weak and his shoulders slumped. "Gees, you surprised me."

Tony grinned, "Maybe I should have said ‘hi’ first." Robin nodded. The doors opened and Tony offered Robin entrance with a wave of his hand and then pushed in his mail cart. Robin pushed the OD button. Tony leaned against the wall, "I saw you here last week. How long have you been working here?"

"I started last Monday," Robin said softly as he absentmindedly scratched that morning’s injection site. Tony was acting like he knew who he was talking to but Robin couldn’t be sure that he did. "So, what’s your name?"

Tony’s face scrunched, "I know who you are, Robin. But, I must say that you are far more attractive than the last time I saw you in a dress, if you actually call those frilly baby clothes a dress."

Robin’s heart sank, "Have you told anybody about me?"

"No," Tony said with a nasty grin, as he pulled out the stop button on the panel. "But I will." He said nothing more but stood there looking at the skirted lad and grinning dirtily.

Robin finally read it, "You will if what?"

His smile turned to lechery, "If I don’t get a blow job from you."

"You fucking asshole!" Robin yelled and stepped forward to punch him. Tony grabbed both Robin’s arms, easily stopping his attack.

His effort didn’t stop even though Tony was obviously in control of the situation. He chuckled, "I’ve been watching your ‘punishments’ for most of my life. God it turns me on. I used to sit on the roof and beat-off while I was looking at you through my telescope. I’ve been watching all week. You’re changing. You are really beginning to look like a girl. And all I can think of every time I see you is how wonderful it would feel to have my dick in your mouth."

Robin had stopped struggling. He was getting a bit sick with what he was hearing. Looking into the boy’s face, he asked, "You’re blackmailing me into giving you a blow-job?" Tony grinned and nodded. "You stupid shit, I don’t know how to give a blow-job even if I would. You think that that is something that I do? I’m no faggot. I don’t suck-off guys. You are the one here that wants sex with a boy!"

Tony smirked and nodded agreement, "Ok. So maybe I’m a faggot, but everyone in the building will know that you’re a boy in dresses if you don’t suck me off. I’m going to come in you’re throat or I’m going to tell everyone about you. You make the choice." He let go of Robin’s arms.

Robin stared daggers into the creeps eyes. He didn’t flinch; he only grinned more as time passed. Slowly Robin made the choice and slowly dropped to his knees. Tears began to stream from his eyes as he reached for Tony’s belt.

It was humiliating, sick. Robin bobbed back and forth on the boy’s stiff rod. It choked him and made his tears run heavier. Looking up at his tormentor, he was surprised to see him looking down at him with a look bordering tenderness. Robin slowed but didn’t pull away from the organ. Tony smiled, not in sexual delight or even in the victory of domination, could it be appreciation?

Sensing that he should say something, Tony spoke what he saw, "You are so beautiful, so sexy. If I were to have every woman that I ever wanted, I will never forget having you."

The words struck Robin inside. They were sincere. There wasn’t time to think about them at the moment, the salty taste of pre-cum poured on his tongue. Shocked, he opened his mouth and gasped in a huge breath. It was a fortunate thing for no sooner than he grabbed the air, Tony grabbed the back of his head and pulled it forward till it’s motion was stopped by the boy’s pelvic bone.

Robin tried to push away, to remove the stiff organ from his throat and cease the heaving of his stomach, but Tony was holding his head in a death grip. His stomach continued to heave, trying to release it’s contents, but the boy’s cock not only blocked the path of the partially digested lunch but also pumped a load of ‘desert’ down on top of it. The heaving gradually subsided, to Robin’s surprise, and he began to wonder how much longer he was going to have to spend there with his nose buried in Tony pubes. Running out of air, Robin tried again to push away, and this time, he succeeded. As the long shaft slid from his throat, his stomach surged once more but he was able to hold it down. Clearing his throat, the penis had one more pump of cum to deposit on Robin’s tongue. It was his first opportunity to actually taste it; most of Tony’s load had gone straight to his stomach. Robin hesitated, thinking about having Tony’s sperm in his mouth, in his stomach. Actually, it wasn’t that bad, reminding him of his salty plums. He swallowed the fluid and again looked at his tormentor. Tony was slumped back against the wall.

Looking down at Robin, he slid down the wall until he was eye to eye with his captive, "That was fucking wonderful. It may have been you’re first time but it was my first time, also. I thought you were going to puke but you didn’t."

"I still may," Robin said flatly.

"You’re not mad!" Tony’s exclamation came as a surprise to both of them. "You’re not even crying! Did you like it?"

Robin moved his feet beneath him, "You gotta be fucking crazy."

"You didn’t say no!" Tony was gleeful. "You liked it!"

"Fuck off, you idiot," Robin’s voice lacked credibility.

Tony stood and grabbed Robin’s shoulders and looked into his eyes, "Holy shit! I don’t believe it. You liked it."

Robin’s eyes rolled, "I didn’t like it. You dumb fuck. Put your dick in your pants. You’re drooling."

Tony stuffed himself away, zipped up his pants, and pulled out his handkerchief and began wiping up his ooze, "You’re not even going to hit me." He grabbed Robin’s arm, turning him again to his eyes. Moving so that their noses almost touched, Tony had another revelation, "There’s a girl in there somewhere, isn’t there?"

Pushing away from him, Robin simply said, "Asshole," and slammed off the stop button. Looking at the thin watch adorning his wrist, he realized that he still had a few minutes of lunch left. Fortunately, there was enough time for him to fix his make-up. He pushed the ‘12’ button just before the elevator got to the floor. A moment later the doors opened and Robin stepped out.

"Bye, girl," Tony said behind him.

Robin spun, "You tell anyone and I’ll fucking kill you."

Tony smiled and waved as the door closed. Robin hurried to the bathroom. His face was a wreck.

Wednesday was a day of chaos. Two of the nurses had shared a sandwich the day before and both called in with food poisoning, and Wednesday was one of the busiest days of the week. Robin didn’t get away for lunch until three and only did then because there had been several cancellations and the madness had subsided. Dr. Carl told him to go ahead and take the rest of the day off, the appointments that were left were routine regulars. It was fortunate, Robin thought, as he was feeling funny anyway, not sick, but weird. His body felt like it was squirming inside. His hands and feet felt like they were shrinking, tingling without the associated pain. And his nipples itched, like mad. He would say he was horny but he didn’t feel the least bit like he was. Besides, he was a boy and boy’s nipples don’t itch when they’re horny. Rounding the corner to the elevators, there were signs on the left bank doors saying that the elevators were out of order. He pushed the button and stepped to the right bank. It must have been ten minutes before the doors of one of the elevators opened and it was already packed. In exasperation, he headed for the freight elevators.

After pushing the button, he had to wait only a minute for the doors to open. Looking at the floor as he stepped in, he looked up into Tony’s face. He tried to turn and go back out the door but Tony grabbed his arm and pulled him back. The doors closed. "I don’t want to be in here with you," he said as to display his anger.

"And hi to you," Tony came back. "I haven’t told anyone."

Robin half looked at him, "That was our deal, right?"

Tony looked at his watch, "It’s not even four yet, are you off early?"

"I didn’t get lunch," he said coldly.

"I can get off in a few minutes," Tony said with a hint of something else in his voice. "If you won’t bite the hand that feeds you, I’ll buy you lunch."

Robin looked at the floor, "And then you’ll rape me?"

"No," Tony said with conviction. "I got my dream blow-job. I’ll just buy you lunch and I’ll apologies for blackmailing you while you’re eating."

There was this long pause and the doors opened. Robin turned to look at the boy, "I want shrimp."

Tony half grinned, "It’ll have to be Long John’s. I can’t afford anything fancy."

Stepping off the lift, Robin said as he walked away, "I’ll be in the lobby."

Dipping a shrimp into cocktail sauce, Robin bit the crustacean in half and looked at Tony, "You’ve been talking for ten minutes and I still don’t have an apology."

Tony’s eyes dropped, "Yeah. Look, Robin, I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t do it again but I couldn’t not do it then. Like I said, it was my dream blow-job, it was the way I wanted to loose my virginity."

"In my mouth?" Robin asked in disbelief. Tony’s eyes came up and his brows raised to their highest. He nodded sheepishly. Robin didn’t know weather to be flattered or pissed, "You wanted your first sexual encounter to be my mouth, more than say, fucking Emy Davis?"

Again he nodded sheepishly, "She’s real pretty and all, but really, I wanted you. I told you the truth. Cuming in your mouth fulfilled my most constant fantasy."

Bitting off another bite, Robin chewed and swallowed before asking, "So all the sex you have for the rest of your life is going to be downhill from here."

He shrugged, "Looks like. Unless you’ll do it again."

Robin couldn’t read his half smile as satire or poking fun. He had to test it, "So, are you gay or what?"

Shaking his head, "No, I’m pretty sure I’m not gay. And, before you ask, I don’t think you are. I do think that you are more girl than you will admit to, though."

Trying to come up with a snappy come back drug on till the effort was useless. Looking into Tony’s eyes, he asked, "Why do you say that? And why were you so certain that I liked it?"

"I donn’o," He shrugged. "I guess it’s because of the way you look." Robin raised one eyebrow in question. "I mean your face. It’s like your face has this look like, I donn’o, like it just makes me want to stick my you know in you mouth, like your mouth, or maybe your whole face, it’s like the sexist thing I’ve ever seen. Even now, when I sit here and look at you, I just want to fuck your face. And I’m not the only one! There were these two guys from security talking about you, and one of them says, ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. Every time I look at her, I want to grab her face and shove my dick into it. I bet she could give one hell of a blow job.’ And the other guy says, ‘Yeah, her mouth makes me so horny.’ I wanted to tell them to shut-up but I just sat there being amazed. I thought it was just me that felt that way."

Robin’s eyes were closed and he rested his forehead in his left palm, "So you’re saying guys want to fuck my face."

"Yeah," his tone was matter-of-fact. "And there were these two guys in the bathroom. Now I didn’t know if they were talking about you for sure but one was saying, ‘I’d fuck her face in a minute if she wasn’t so damn young.’ I’m telling you, Robin, you got this face that is just so goddam sexy that...well, I think you get the picture."

Without saying a word, Robin finished his shrimp but didn’t eat any of the side dishes. Tony respected his silence. When finished, they both exited without passing a word. Walking to the car with his head down, Robin stopped for Tony to open the door. As he reached for the handle, Robin dropped his butt against the door, preventing it from being opened. Without looking up, Robin spoke, "I didn’t like being raped." He raised his head and spoke into the parking lot, "Maybe all this punishment is getting to me, or maybe it’s the shots, or maybe I’m just gay," his head lowered, "but it wasn’t so bad." Turning to look at Tony, he double gasped before he could speak, "Maybe, if I wasn’t being raped, I might have liked it."

"I’m sorry," Tony said softly.

Robin dropped forward from the waist, his head slamming into the crook between Tony’s collar bone and shoulder. He didn’t say anything but Tony got the hint and put his arms around him, holding him securely but not tightly. They stayed that way for several minutes until Tony rested his head on top of Robin’s. Quietly, Robin said, "I want to do it again. I don’t want you to rape me."

Reaching his hand into Robin’s, Tony stepped back and pulled him from the car. With his free hand he opened the door and with the other, he guided Robin to the seat. Getting in, Tony started the car. As he reached for the shifter, he was stopped by Robin’s hand. Looking into the boy’s eyes, Robin said, "Go to my house. I want to wear something pretty and do it in my bed." Tony smiled, and in raw joy, kissed him quickly on the lips. Robin tried not to but he couldn’t help but grin. Preventing the shifter from moving again for a moment, he reached around and took Tony’s head in his right hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the boy’s face to his and kissed him softly on the lips, and then moved his hand from the shifter.

It all started sweetly. Robin wore one of his new teddys, the white one. Tony just stripped naked in boyish enthusiasm. Robin laid him on his bed, climbed next to him, his knees touching Tony’s body lightly, and softly took his stiff rod in his hand, running his fingers up and down it’s length. He didn’t know how Tony’s dick compared to other boy’s when erect, but compared to his own, it was at least twice, or maybe three times as big, certainly twice as long. His own dick felt like it was harder than it ever had been before, trapped and forced down beneath the teddy, but when he touched himself, he found it was hardly able to tent the sheer material, barely hard at all, but already leaking a big glop of clear fluid through it’s white prison wall.

Leaning over Tony’s purple head, he licked around the head and then closed his lips around it’s bottom. Lifting his head but keeping his lips in contact, he raised to it’s tip and kissed softly. Running his tongue around the head again, this time he bit down ever so softly and brought his teeth to the tip, and then kissed again. Tony was squirming. Robin repeated the actions, inching down until the pressure in his throat caused his stomach to knot. Retreating to the tip, he kissed it, and then dropped his face down the organ’s entire length, impaling his head and keeping his face solidly buried in Tony’s bush until he could fight off the urge to throw-up. With his stomach finally overcome, he pulled to the tip and then dove again, again, again.

The air was forced from Tony’s lungs every time his dick was grabbed by Robin’s throat, and was gasped in as Robin’s lips wetly drug to his dick’s tip. "Oh, god," emanated from his throat with each blast of escaping air and his throat clinched as Robin’s inhale cooled his wet rod. He wanted to grab the blonde mane and shove his member into the face beneath it and blow his balls, but even in the heat of passion he knew this had to be Robin’s time; he had already had his. Nonetheless less, he had to do something with his hands. Gently, he took a hold of one of Robin’s dark nipples and pulled. Robin’s back jerked and he double bobbed on the dick. Tony squeezed and pulled. Robin gasped and slammed his face hard into Tony’s pelvis.

Pulling at Robin’s knee so that he would lay down, Tony maneuvered the soft boy until they were on their sides, were he could thrust his dick in and out between the red lips. With each hand, he took a hold of a nipple and squeezed gently, rolling them between his fingers. Robin became inflamed, grabbing Tony’s hips with his hands and pumping him faster and faster.

The action caused them to slide off the bed. Tony was able to prevent a fall, but Robin remained clutched onto his hips, his back and body on the bed, his head hanging off the side, positioned for Tony’s thrusting into his throat. Tony’s toes dug into carpet, his knees supporting him on the bed rails, and his hips were free, save for Robin’s commanding grip, to drive his dick deeply into Robin’s throat and retrieve it’s full length with each stroke. He never lost his grip on those dark and now exceedingly inflamed and hard nipples, and more he squeezed and pulled on them the harder Robin pulled him into his face. Robin’s body glistened with sweat. Suddenly Robin’s body became very still, his back arched and locked into position. Tony could see the clear juice gushing from Robin’s almost flaccid boyhood through it’s nylon entrapment, but he couldn’t stop pumping. He pumped harder and harder and soon Robin’s body relaxed but he continued pulling Tony’s hips until his dick seated fully into his throat. Again and again he drove his straining erection into Robin’s wet throat and Robin moaned for more. As his body began to spasm, his sperm gathering to charge, Robin’s back was again arching, his nails digging painfully into Tony’s sweat soaked skin. With a massive surge, Tony crammed his load into Robin’s throat, pumping, not moving until he was starved for air from the exertion. He pulled back only to hear Robin gurgle as he gasped for breath, his body locked and vibrating in a second orgasm.

Slamming his hips forward, he squeezed to force every drop of semen and every sperm he had into Robin’s throat. As he felt that he could force no more from his body, Robin’s body went slack, his knees flopped sideways, his hands released, and his arms dropped, stopped by the mattress. He would have thought his recipient dead could he not hear the sweet murmurings of passion and feel the vocal cords vibrating on his still hard organ. Looking down, Tony could see the smile on Robin’s face through his pubic hair and even with his dick fully stuffed into his mouth. Pulling out, he heard Robin’s life force pull for air, but as he continued to retreat, Robin’s teeth latched onto his shaft just behind it’s head and refused to release their grip until he was soft, throughly spent, and the last leaking drop had been licked from it’s tip by Robin’s wet tongue, the only muscle that he apparently had the energy to move.

Looking at the sweat pouring from his body and the same rolling off Robin’s skin and pooling on the sheet, he noticed actual steam rising from the soaked material covering Robin’s stomach. "Lordy, girl," Tony giggled, "we need a shower."

Robin’s eyes were half open, only the whites shown. He gasped for air and the green of his irises came into view, "I can’t move yet." Tony laughed and pulled at an elbow. Sucking in more air, Robin almost giggled but with an air of pain, "I’m not trying to be funny. Really, Tony, my whole body feels like it’s asleep. It’s only just now starting to get tingly, like when your foot falls asleep and starts to wake-up. Really, when I try to move, it hurts."

"Do you want me to carry you into the shower?"

"No," Robin said with all the firmness he could muster, "I just want to lay here until my body wakes-up. I’m not kidding, my skin hurts."

Sitting on the floor and leaning back on the side of the bed, Tony tried to keep Robin company, "I could see when you came both times."

"I came three times," Robin said weakly. "The last two were really close together, but it was when I was coming the third time that I started slipping away, like my body and my mind separated and my body passed out. I tried to hold it, to keep it awake, but it just suddenly gave way. I think I can move my fingers and toes now without them hurting." He wiggled his digits. "I’ll be OK in a few minutes. What time is it?"

Leaning his head back to see the clock, Tony answered, "Almost six."

"Damn," Robin tried to exclaim but lacked the energy for full effect. "I never called Mom. It’s a good thing she has to do schedules tonight. She won’t be home till after seven. I really don’t think I could get showered and fix my room before she got here if she got off at six. I’m really exhausted."

Tony grinned, "You know, that was a lot more fun than when I forced you."

"Yeah," Robin grinned broadly. "It’s alright, you know. I would have never thought I was a cock sucker if you hadn’t."

Rolling onto his elbows so that he could look into Robin’s eyes, Tony asked, "Do you feel like a cock sucker or do you feel like a girl?"

Robin’s smile faded and a questioning look took over his face and then turned to surrender, "Both, Tony. Both."

Tony twisted to better aline his lips with Robin’s, "I want to kiss you but I don’t want to kiss you if you’re just a cock sucker. I want to kiss a girl."

The smile returned to Robin’s face, "I’m going to have to admit I’m a girl, aren’t I?" Tony nodded. Taking a deep breath, Robin held it for a moment, "Tony, would you please kiss this girl?"

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered into her mouth as his lips touched them.

"You didn’t call me when you got off work," Robin’s mother said sternly as she passed her son.

"Oh, shit," Robin feigned forgetfulness. "Schindler’s list was starting as soon as I walked in the door and I just forgot. I’m sorry."

Stopping and turning to the boy, "I hope you’re going to apologize for swearing, also."

It worked, Robin thought, "Oh, yeah, sorry about that, too."

All through the night, in his dreams, when he woke to go to the bathroom, as he fell back to sleep, and even as the alarm was going off, Robin couldn’t get the sex off his mind. He didn’t want to admit that he liked sucking cock, but he really did. In fact, he began fantasizing about doing it again.

Picking his light lavender, empire waist-ed shift, he was fully dressed before he thought about how he looked in the dress. The high waist and deep scooped neckline emphasized his bust, and the clinging lycra material below the waist defined his increasingly feminine curves. It was easily the sexist dress he had and one that he had avoided wearing. Then something struck him as odd, his skin didn’t have the "crawly" feeling that it did when he wore a suit. Why he would remember that feeling at that moment puzzled him. And as he thought about it, he also thought about how he felt when he had to wear one of those frilly sissy dresses. That "silly" sissy dress feeling wasn’t plaguing him either. In fact, as he stood looking at himself in the mirror, he felt comfortable, even perhaps "pretty" in the dress. So many thoughts were flying in his head at that moment, that he couldn’t pin point one, couldn’t yet concentrate on exactly what it was that he wanted to strain from the rushing mental representations. Slipping his fingers alongside his head and fluffing his hair with a shake, he watched the ends dance about around his neck. He stopped, and remembered what he had said to Tony about feeling like a girl. Although he was not feeling it with the same intensity as he did in post-sex repose, he was still feeling it nonetheless. As he tried to focus on the feeling, he also thought of the abandonment to which he indulged as Tony so hardily rammed his dick into his throat. Spinning on his toe, so that his heel wouldn’t catch in the carpet, he went to fix his hair and remove his mind to more mundane thoughts and his nipples to a state of non-arousal.

The effect was short lived, all morning long, his mind returned to thoughts of Tony’s erect organ in his throat. He was baffled by it. Never having thought of having sex with a boy before, how could he be so quickly enthralled by it? More than that, he had always been attracted to girls, how could he suddenly want sex with a boy? How could he even think of himself as a girl, he wondered as he felt a flash of mad when he noticed a chip of wine color missing from the tapered nail on his index finger.

Shortly before noon, Tony stuck his head in the office door. After a succession of louder and louder "psssstt’s," Robin finally recognized the sound. Looking up, Tony offered, "Lunch?"

Robin raised and, leaning across her desk and onto the counter, she agreed, "OK, but I’m really hungry. I want to get something to eat first."

Tony nodded in agreement but was questioning what she meant by ‘something to eat first.’ He was about to ask when it clicked in his head and his smile grew as broadly as possible, "Yeah, yeah, OK. We’ll get something to eat."

"I’ve got to stay till about 12:30, K?" Robin grinned back.

Tony nodded, his grin so wide that he could hardly be understood, "I’ll be back."

As agreed, Tony showed and escorted his spectacular looking luncheon date to the nearby Long John’s. The meal was devoured quickly and the young couple were soon back in the car, though you would be unaware of Robin’s presence if you were in the car behind them. You might, if you were in the car behind, wonder if the erratic driving by the young man was because he was on some kind of drug. Needless to say, Robin made it back to work, though five minutes late, with a freshly painted face, freshly brushed hair, and a dress that was oddly rumpled in the front.

Friday afternoon, Robin’s mother called, asking if he would mind babysitting Richard’s kids again so that they could have another date. Robin had been trying to think of an excuse that would have given him the opportunity to spend some time with Tony, but agreed when his mother told him that the children had requested his presence and that Richard had agreed to spring for a movie if they chose to go. He agreed and Richard was there to pick-up his sitter at 5:30.

Becky and Paul were all over him as soon as he entered the house. Hollering that they wanted to go get hot dogs before the movie, Richard nodded his approval and the kids went wild again. As the adults left, the kids settled down with the paper to decide which movie to see. The first run houses had their schedules filled with more mature flicks, banking on the older weekend crowd, but there were several choices in the second run houses, and they were closer to the house. The Lion King was still running and was the kids loud choice.

There was enough time to walk the twelve blocks to the WinerDog, and then the block and a half to the theater. Both kids managed to stay awake through the movie but were dragging by the time it was over. Robin phoned a cab for the trip home, as much for the kids as for safety. Once in the door, their energy levels had risen enough for then to drag Robin through a game of life but bed was right behind.

With the kids tucked in, Robin went downstairs to grab a soda and surf the cable. Rounding the stairs and ducking into the kitchen, he snatched a coke from the fridge, headed into the den, poked on the tv from the remote laying on the coffee table, and would have sat on the couch but, to his great surprise, he found it occupied. In the half light emanating from the not fully on tube, Robin had only just made out that the divan was occupied by a mannish form, and reacted by dropping his soda and screeching in a very unmasculine way. The body stirred and began to sit up.

As the tv came to full light, Robin, who had already rounded the coffee table on the way out of the room, suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He knew the person on the couch and equally knew that there was no reason to fear. Spinning, she exclaimed, "Russ! What are you doing here?"

Just coming to a full sitting position, and to full awake, he didn’t recognize the girl, "You may know me but you have the advantage."

"Don’t be silly," Robin chided him, "it’s me, Robin." It was only after the words came from his mouth that he realized that the boy probably wouldn’t recognize him with his hair curled and in the rose print blouse and gray skirt. Robin’s hands snapped to cover his mouth but by then Russ had not only heard the words but had also seen enough of the face to know just who it was he was looking at, "Robin?" He didn’t respond, he just shut his eyes in embarrassment. "Goddam," Russ said as he rose toward the boy, "You’re beautiful! I mean, ahhh, shit, you’re beautiful. When did you start wearing girl’s clothes. And isn’t that one of Barbra’s blouses?"

Collapsing back into a convenient chair, Robin said flatly, "Sit down, Russ." For the next half hour the boys discussed what had happened since school ended. Russ was truly amazed at the transformation of the "pasty kid" that he had defended earlier in the year and, though he didn’t say it, was damn glad he did.

Finally, Robin came to the question that had been asked but remained unanswered, "Russ, what are you doing here, anyway?"

He chuckled, "You’ve been talking for half an hour and are just now asking me that?" Robin smirked. Russ grinned, "Richard is my dad, Becky and Paul are my step-sister and brother. I live with my mom over on Buckley. I come by whenever mom’s got a date that she wants to spend the night with and crash out on the couch here."

Robin was curious, "Why don’t you sleep in the guest room upstairs?"

"Cuz," Russ said as he stretched out, "this is a pretty comfortable couch and I don’t have to make the bed when I wake-up."

They chatted for awhile longer before Russ decided that he wanted something to eat. Heading for the kitchen, with Robin close behind, he opened the fridge and began to stare at the contents. After two minutes, Robin pried his hand from the door and pulled sandwich contents from the interior of the box. As Robin assembled the meal, Russ leaned against the counter to face Robin as they spoke. Russ was speaking words but becoming more and more enthralled by the attraction he felt toward the boy. Robin began reading the attraction that Russ was feeling, "You really do think I’m pretty, don’t you?"

Russ said nothing but leaned forward in an obvious attempt to kiss the red lips that so held his attention. Leaning away, Robin avoided the effort. Removing Robin’s left arm from the counter, he pulled the lad into space between them. The kiss was soft, sweet, and gracefully accepted by the beskirted lad. After several minutes of lip-lock, Russ pulled back for a breather and a bit of confession that Robin didn’t really expect: "I’ve always been attracted to feminine boys, but I don’t mean effeminate boys, I mean somebody like you, like a girl sprouting from a boy’s body. I used to watch you as you’d walk through the halls or in gym. You always looked like a girl trying to emerge from a boy cocoon. Now I can see that I was right."

Robin was a bit amazed at this and had to test it, "How on earth could you see something like that? How would you know?"

"It’s a gift?" he speculated, indicating with a shrug of his shoulders, "I saw it in another boy a few years ago. Mom and I were living in Colorado, and there was this boy two grades ahead of me named Oskrand, or something like that, but whenever I saw him I called him Keri because he looked like a girl who should be named Keri. Then one day after I say ‘hi, Keri’ to him, he stops me and asks why I call him Keri, so I tell him why. And then he smiles and kisses me, right there in front of everybody in the hall. The next Monday he came to school in a dress and insisted that everyone call him Keri. And now she’s been living as herself for a couple of years."

Robin didn’t believe him, and asked, "And you see that in me?" Russ nodded, matter-of-factly. Robin continued, "So, do you see a girl in Paul? He likes to dress like a girl."

"Naw," Russ explained, "But, you see, that’s the difference. He likes to dress-up like a girl; he isn’t a girl."

Robin knew the difference, too, "So what makes you so sure about me?"

"Two things," Russ explained, "First, you don’t act or sound gay. Second, I wasn’t really positive until ten minutes ago." Robin’s eyes squinted, expressing her misunderstanding. "Ten minutes ago I kissed you and you kissed me back. Since I knew that you weren’t gay, if you had pushed me away, it would have meant that you just like dressing like a girl."

"But I kissed you..." Robin grinned.

Russ finished the sentence, "...so you’re a girl." With that having been said, and not refuted by the ‘boy’ in the rose print blouse, they pressed their lips together. The kiss was still sweet but this time it was more open, more honest, and had the slight ting of hormone driven, youthful lust.

Different than Tony’s, Robin found Russ’ kisses more exciting than Tony’s, not as sexy, but more sensuous. The way that Russ held him was also closer, more romantic. Robin suddenly found a wave of feminine response crashing through his body, his nipples erect, his skin lusting to be unencumbered by clothing. While he did have a strong craving to experience Russ’ meat plunging into the depths of his throat, he also felt softer, more cherished than desired, leaving him clay for the molding in Russ’ strong hands. Carrying the blossoming young woman of his lust up the stairs, he removed her clothes, and replaced their confines with soft kisses.

Robin felt as if he were in a dream, as if that that was happening, was occurring only in his mind, as if the pleasure of their bodies together, of their touching, could not be reality. Finding himself stripped to the panties, his body almost reverberating with every touch of the young man’s lips, Robin strained with his floating, dream responsed arms to remove the clothing from the young man’s body and, goal attained, marveled at the maturity of the manhood exposed to her.

Panting, and caressing the rigid organ, Robin longed to hold it in his throat, but this was not to be. With a quick downward movement, and the slashing of the tip of a wet tongue opening a cool line down his chest and stomach, Robin felt the smooth nylon of his panties upon his feet. And as quickly as they had been deposited there, the tongue had returned to his chest and danced lightly on his right nipple. He rose from the ground, hoisted on Russ’ incredibly strong arms, his nipple sucked solidly into the boy’s mouth as his lover blasted hot air from his nostrils onto the sensitized skin of his breasts. He almost missed feeling the bed against his back, of his ankles locking grip behind the Russ’ back, for his concentration had been on his lover’s manhood, which now sought entrance into his body.

Standing, Russ presented his erection to the girl, "Wet me." It was as much a command as it was a request. Scrunching forward, Robin inhaled the top of the organ into her mouth and licked and licked with all of the saliva she could muster. Pulling the meat from her mouth, Russ replaced it with his lips, a quiet, "Thank you," escaping from them before they met her’s. His steaming rod resought entrance into the body of the young woman, and with gentle pressure, took her resistance with a sudden snap of force, but then sought the warmth of her depths with gentle, tender effort until it lay embedded to it’s hilt. The retreat was with equal tenderness, respecting the virginity taken, and though the return into her was swifter than the first, she accepted his impalement with more grace, and passion. Soon Robin’s body was again afloat in steam, her sweat drifting from her skin in vapors.

Russ marveled at the sight of the wet wisps, silvered by the light of a night light casting pale beams into the darkness. The heat of the girl was incredible, the fire inside her turning her belly and breasts, red. Each thrust into her was carried along her back and tickled under his fingers which held her slim shoulders anchored to the bed. Each thrust also brought another degree of tilt to her head, as if each time his shaft sank into her, it racheted taught the back of her neck from inside.

As his own groin cramped and spasmed his seed into the girl, her body was racked in rigid passion, seemingly locked solid with the force of every cell of her entire body echoing release in unisioned orgasm. In dramatic opposition to the time and effort required to so steel the young girl in passion, her body suddenly went limp, as if the soul had been squeezed from it by the strength of it’s response, and death had jumped in.

Releasing her shoulders and grabbing her head, Russ almost shouted into her face, "Robin! Robin!"

A grin reluctantly drew across her face. With effort, her lips parted and faint words strained forth: "Quiet, you’ll wake the kids."

Russ quieted, but his concern was still high, "What the hell happened to you?"

A breath of air entered her lungs, "It’s OK. Sometimes my body kinda implodes and I just become this reservoir surrounding a hot, pumping dick, and then my body drifts off to sleep and I can’t keep it awake." She paused for a moment to allow entry of another breath. "It’s called ‘the little death’ in French, but I don’t know to say it. If you could, please be very still, because every little movement you make right now is sending thousands of needle pricks through my body."

Russ began to chuckle until he looked at Robin’s face and realized that it was contorted in pain. "Sorry," he whispered softly, and then gently tensed his body, freezing all motion save that necessary for breathing.

About ten minutes passed before Robin raised slightly and kissed his lips, "Just don’t move your legs. My feet aren’t fully awake, yet."

Speaking softly for awhile before passing into the sleep of exhaustion, it was about six o’clock before Russ suddenly bolted awake at the realization of his slumber. Robin also awoke, and the two scrambled to dress, ignoring their now mixed scents, and then swiftly replaced the soggy linen that dressed the bed. After several long minutes spent in a lovers kiss, Russ hadn’t quite made it to the couch, when the front door opened with the entrance of their parents.

Russ headed-off the adults, occupying them in the kitchen long enough for Robin to unknowingly pass into sleep, as she feigned the condition. She woke about nine, when the sun passed over the tree outside the bedroom window and removed it’s shadow from the room. Her muscles ached in residual pain from their intense exertion of a few hours before, and the release of Russ’ juices seeped from her, odorously wetting a spot in her panties. She headed for the shower and washed the nylon garment along with her salt encrusted skin.

The parents had just finished breakfast with the kids. Robin’s mom greeted her, followed by the exuberant greetings of the kids. Sitting down to a bowl of Coco-puffs, she noticed Russ asleep on the couch. Richard was watching her as her glance toward his son lingered a bit too long, "I think you kept him up too late watching movies."

Not knowing what he had said, Robin had to wing it, "Me? He was the one that was staying awake. I kept drifting off and he would start talking and wake me up."

He nodded, "I didn’t realize that you two knew each other."

A largely unchewed mouthful of puffs scraped it’s way down Robin’s throat, "Ahhh, well, we just know each other from school. I didn’t know that you two were related until last night when he showed up here and scared me to death."

With his eyebrows drawing into a questioning curve, he asked, "You were just casual friends in school?"

Trying to think of what to say proved fruitless as Robin could feel his face reddening, "He’s got this, well, kinda protective thing for me, kinda like a big brother. He’s real sweet."

A grin passed the man’s face, "Or maybe kissing cousins?" Robin’s eyes grew wide. "He was, ahhh," Richard cleared his throat, "wearing your lipstick." All of the air escaped from Robin’s lungs and the room began to drift a little. She probably would have fainted if Richard hadn’t spoken: "He got it off before your mom saw it. Look, he said you two were just kissing, but really what you two do is between you two, to some extent. I told him this and I’m going to tell you, and if I’m out of line, you’ll just have to forgive me, but if you kids are going to have sex, I don’t want it happening here with the little ones present. And please use protection. It’s pretty easy to see that he is fond of you but I don’t think you guy’s are in love, or at least, not yet."

Parental concern read all over Richard’s face and Robin couldn’t help but smile at it. Bolting from her chair, Robin kissed the man on the cheek and hugged him. In his ear, she whispered, "No babies. I promise." He hugged her back.

Feeling pretty good, Robin hopped back onto the stool and spooned in another bite of cereal. An instant replay of what had just happened played through his mind and he had an epiphany: only a girl would have done that. That was not how a boy would behave. Not even a boy is a dress would have done that. One thing that was becoming very clear to him was that there wasn’t much ‘him’ left in him anymore.

At that moment, his mother returned from the restroom, "OK, sweetie, it’s...Robin, are you alright? You look a little pale."

Startled, Robin sucked in a breath and tried to offer some explanation around a mouth full of crunchy, chocolate-flavored corn, "I think I need some more sun. I’m spending too much time indoors this summer."

Feeling a little challenged, his mother offered, "Well, perhaps you could take the children to the pool this afternoon. You could get some sun and they would love it."

"It would love it, too, Mom," Robin shot back, "but I need a new swim suit. The one I had last year just wouldn’t look right on me now." She smirked, stifling a laugh.

Frustrated, his mother tried to hurry him, "Robin, take the blue and purple one. It will hide your little boy thing if it’s taped down and the top has enough coverage that your breast forms won’t show."

"Quit rushing me," he said as he held up two swim suits for comparison,"this is my first time buying a girl’s swim suit and I wouldn’t have to be doing it if you hadn’t started me on female hormones and had me living as a girl this summer."

The argument was indefensible. His mother slumped in the observer’s chair, defeated. "Robin," she reminded her feminine son, "we still need to stop and get sun protection and the kids are waiting."

Pulling a colorful bikini from the bunch, he announced, "I’m going to take the red, orange, and yellow one. It’s cut just like the blue and purple one to cover me up."

His mother cringed, "Dear, I think the colors are a bit too, ahh, mature for you."

"It’s pretty, Mom," his voice carried the same tone as his previous argument.

"Ok, OK," his mother acquiesced, "just come along. I swear, you’re worse than a..." Looking at his mother at the end of her unfinished sentence, he smiled in response. Her eyes rolled back, she drew in a deep breath, grabbed her son by the shoulder, and pulled him from the dressing room.

The afternoon at the pool was certainly a new experience for the feminized lad. Boys spent a great deal of time ogling him and doing "stupid human tricks" in an effort to win his, or rather, her, favor. Choosing to bathe in the sun rather than in the water, Robin kept half an eye on the kids and half an eye on the boys that paraded around the pool. Before they hadn’t been any cause for concern and, now that he thought about it, the girls hadn’t been either. What he was beginning to wonder about, was that now that he had had sex with two boys and no girls, he really wasn’t feeling any desire to have sex with, or even fantasize about having sex with, any of the scantily clad females displaying themselves everywhere around the pool. The boys, on the other hand, were holding more and more of his attention, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the bulges in their trunks would look like when erect. He had already admitted that he was a cock sucker, but after his affair with Russ the night before, he was finally understanding that perhaps he was a girl that just happened to like to suck cock -- and more.

By the time the kids had been dropped off, Robin was feeling tired and burnt, despite the sun screen. After a grilled chicken burger, and no fries, he welcomed the opportunity for a shower and an early bed time. Emerging from the cooler than normal spray -- the heat had burned his skin -- he looked at his body. His nipples were engorged and puffy looking, undoubtedly a hold over from Russ’ active sucking on them, and they stood out dark and pronounced against his white skin, the whiteness of which was further accented by the contrasting pink-red skin that had laid exposed to the sun. Femininity was overcoming his body and he was becoming very comfortable with it. Delicately rubbing lotion onto his burned skin, he felt pleased at it’s new, if somewhat painful at the moment, sensitivity. Thinking back to Russ’ kisses on his shoulders, his back, his belly, he remembered how alive they made him feel. He wanted that feeling again. He wanted the sensitivity of his soft skin, of his big nipples, of his, as Russ put it, downy belly. It was clear, there was no going back to being a boy. If it had ever been who he was, it was no longer.

Although Robin knew the fact about himself, he was still to struggle with it, telling his mother was going to be no easy task even if she was giving him female hormones. And there was a lot more commitment to living one’s life as a girl than just one summer’s experience could tell. Still, there were little things that were so convincing.

Lunches with Tony were an almost daily occurrence but there was a bit of a change of menu come the next Thursday. Tony’s car needed some repairs so the young pair had been having their lunch interludes in the service elevator. Unknown to them, the camera in the elevator had been repaired and the full view of their escapades were available to the security staff. After viewing the noon-hour porn show, they turned the tape over to Mr. Thompson, the building manager, who had said that he would take care of the situation.

Robin waited outside the doors and became excited as he heard the elevator’s clunking behind them. Giving his hair a quick fluff and positioning himself in front of the doors so that Tony would get a good view when they opened, he grinned widely as the doors creaked. As they parted, revealed was a beat-dog looking Tony and a balding, chubby man of about forty. The man stepped forward, "Robin, I presume?" He nodded his head. "I’m Mr. Thompson, the building manager. Robin," the man said, indicating with a finger that the ‘girl’ should join them in the lift, "back on Monday, the camera was fixed here in the elevator." He pointed to the silver box in the corner. "And for the last two days, you and Mr. Winters here have put on quite a show for the security staff." Holding up a tape, he again motioned Robin into the lift. Weak-kneed and shaking, Robin stepped in. The man pushed the button for the bottom floor. Turning to face the adolescents, he continued, "Believe it or not, I was young once also, but I don’t believe that I would have ever done what you two did, at least not somewhere so exposed as in an elevator." He tapped the tape against his lips, deciding what to say next.

During the pause, Robin looked at Tony, who returned the glance but never raised his head. Mr. Thompson cleared his throat as the elevator slowed, "I ‘m not going to get either of you in trouble with your parents but I am going to send Mr. Winters here, home without pay for the rest of the day for being so stupid." The doors opened and the man pushed the tape into the boy’s hands, "Good-bye, Mr. Winters. We’ll see you in the morning," and shoved him off the lift. Punching the button for the fourth floor, he turned to Robin, "As for you, I have a little gift and an offer. First, the offer, and don’t worry about the camera, there’s no sound. Please forgive me, I’m haven’t time to be anything but blunt, and if you say no, then this conversation will not have taken place, do you agree?" Robin didn’t understand but agreed.

The man took a deep breath and spoke softly, "My wife and I haven’t had sex for many years. She has a physical as well as psychological problem. Our marriage is still a pretty good one, she allows me to visit other women as long as I pay for their favors. That way I don’t feel guilty about cheating, as my wife says, it’s just a kind of massage therapy. I know you are no prostitute, and that you are very young, but there is something about you, about your face, about the way you look, that is extremely exciting. I am willing to pay you fifty dollars if you would do to me what you do to Mr. Winters."

Robin fought to keep his mouth from falling open. He didn’t know which shocked him more, the proposition or that the man obviously wasn’t lying. Trying to come up with a reply, he began by putting his fingers over his mouth.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Mr. Thompson stepped out and turned to the girl, "Come along, you get the surprise anyway." They walked down the short hallway next to the freight elevators and stopped before a door marked Clay Richie Securities. Reaching into his pocket, the man produced a single key and opened the door. Entering, he held it open for Robin, saying, "This is my gift. You and Mr. Winters get it whether you accept my offer or not, just because I wish I could of had the relationship you two have when I was your age. The office has been rented as of the end of September, it will remain vacant until then." Holding the key out to Robin, he continued, "No one knows the key is missing, we had one more than was inventoried." Turning away from the girl, he walked from the small, vacant reception area into the office.

The carpet was plush and the walls covered with dark, rich looking paneling. There was an expensive looking sofa beneath and tilted away from the single curtained window. Mr. Thompson walked to the end of the room and motioned into a door way, "Bathroom. I sometimes come down here and grab a nap on the couch. It’s really comfortable. The former tenant left owing some rent so I kept the sofa for it. There are some towels in the bathroom, don’t make a mess on the couch and keep the place clean. There’s a trash can behind the door there." Walking back toward Robin, he stopped next to the girl, "I’ve already scheduled the locks to be changed on the first. There will be no way for you to use the room after then."

Starting out the door, Robin stopped him by putting a hand on his stomach, "Mr. Thompson, this is really sweet. Can’t you get into trouble for this?"

He scrunched his nose, "Not really. The alarm system isn’t connected and the key isn’t inventoried. From there it’s just your word against mine and I am the building manager. Just keep the place clean and don’t be in here after eight o’clock because building patrols start then. Understand?"

Nodding, Robin walked from the office to the outside door, and locked it. Turning from the door, she saw Mr. Thompson’s eyes grew wide in anticipation. Taking the man’s hand, Robin led him into the office, and closed the door behind them.

"Mom," Robin called from his room, "It’s Russ. He wants to know if I can go to dinner and a movie with Becky, Paul, and himself because the kids are asking for me to go."

Laughing could be heard from his mother’s room, "And he doesn’t care if you go or not?" There was a suggestion of more in her inflection.

"So what?" the pretty boy shot back, "I’ll be sixteen in five days and you always said that I could date when I was sixteen. Five days isn’t going to make any difference."

"Date?" she shot back, "You consider going out with a boy a date?"

Slumping onto his bed, Robin thought: Oh my gawd. What did I say? Trying to cover his words, "No! I mean, if I’m old enough to start dating, and I’m old enough to take the kids out by myself, I’m certainly old enough to go out with the kids and Russ."

"You mean," his mother came back, "on a date with a boy and his little brother and sister?"

Running his fingers across his brow, Robin searched for a way to deny his attraction for Russ when his mother showed at the door. She took a breath, "Do you find this boy attractive?"

"Nooo!" he denied as best he could, and then added some truth to bolster what he felt sure was a feeble lie, "Look, Mom. Russ knows about me and he doesn’t care, and he’s not telling Richard. In fact, he thinks I look better as a girl than as a boy. We talk about girls and I think that’s pretty special considering that I’m wearing a dress and make-up. He’s a friend."

Mom’s look was one of almost accepting, disbelief, "Yes, you can go have some fun with them tonight. Remember that even though you are with a male friend that you are still being punished and I expect you to behave in a subdued and reserved manner, especially since the little ones will be with you."

"Of course," Robin’s reply sounded as if she had said something stupid, "I’m not going to do anything stupid in front of the kids. I like them, and besides, Richard pays me pretty well for sitting with them and I don’t want to screw that up."

Staying at the door while her son made arrangements for his "date," as soon as Robin hung-up, she asked, "Are you finding yourself attracted to boys?"

"Not really," he lied, "but there’s a lot about being a girl that I’m beginning to like. But, can we talk about it later, like maybe tomorrow. Right now, I want to go put on a fresh face and change. I think I’ll wear those linen shorts with that green blouse that you like. OK?"

Turning from his door and returning to her room, Mom asked, "How about that white shorts set? You haven’t worn that yet."

"Naw," Robin replied as he splashed water on his face, "I haven’t shaved my underarms all week and that’s sleeveless."

The group ate at Bogan’s, a old English Inn styled restaurant, and the kids were on unusually good behavior. Before the movie, they played some arcade games, and did a little window shopping on the way to the flick. About half way through the movie, the kids passed out, leaving Russ and Robin the opportunity for a little necking. Taking the kids home first, and putting them to bed, the adolescents started out for Robin’s house. It was only 10:30, an hour and a half before Robin’s curfew, so Russ suggested a walk through the park. Readily agreeing, Robin was hoping for some more kissing and the opportunity to get Russ’ organ into his throat.

A weak, warm breeze wafted through the evening. Barely able to stir the bushes the youths had sought solitude in, they went at each other with reserved abandon: their buttons remaining attached to their clothing. Robin was, however, only able to have half his desires, giving up the opportunity for swallowing Russ’ juices for the opportunity to have the boy’s mouth incessantly at his nipples and having the boy’s long, sweet member spilling it’s load in his body via another route.

Russ remained as still as possible while Robin’s body recovered from orgasm, but offered some quiet conversation as he pecked on Robin’s lips and face and neck, "I can’t believe how pretty you’ve become. When we were in school, I used to fantasize about how you’d look in a dress, with your hair fixed like a girl, but I never would have thought you would be so pretty."

"You mean that you thought I’d look like a boy in a dress?" Robin probed.

"Not exactly," Russ struggled to express his feelings, "I mean that, well, I thought that you would look feminine, but I never thought that you would look so much like a girl. I never thought that you would be so pretty. When I look at you, I have this incredible desire to, ahh, have oral sex with you. But when I start kissing you, all I want to do is have your body against mine, to hold you like I would a girl, and to be inside you and kissing you at the same time."

Robin grinned, "And you like to suck my breasts while you’re ramming yourself into me."

Nodding, Russ agreed, "Yeah, there’s that, too."

Saturday was pretty quiet. Richie came over with a new video game. Having been over several times since Robin’s summer of punishment had started, but not for several weeks, he wasn’t surprised at his friend’s increasingly feminine appearance, but he did wonder, "What have you been up to?"

Puzzled, Robin queried, "What do you mean?"

"I don’t know," Richie replied, "there’s something different about you. You don’t seem so uncomfortable looking like a girl as you used to. You’re like, like a girl now."

"Don’t be silly," Robin pashawed him. You’re my best friend. You know better than anybody that I’m a boy."

Richie looked at his friend with appraising eyes, "Have you had sex with a boy?" Robin’s eyes popped open.

Disclosing his escapades to his friend, and his new feelings about himself, was more draining than he would have thought. Richie had just listened and had been totally non-committal and non-judgmental is his reactions, preferring to proclaim that boys are inherently better than girls at video games, and then proved his point by throughly trouncing Robin.

Robin lay soaking in a bubble bath as his mother came in. Lost in thought, he didn’t even realize she was there until she sat on the toilet seat next to him, "Contemplating your life?" she asked.

He nodded, "Richie came over today. He told me that I didn’t seem like a boy anymore. I think he’s right, Mom."

She leaned forward and stroked his hair, "What are you saying, Robin?"

Drawing in a deep breath, he flatly said, "You’ve been turning me into a girl and I think I’m beginning to like it. I mean," he tried to cover all that he was feeling, "I think I really like the dresses and looking pretty and being soft and feminine. My nipples are getting really big and my boobs are swelling quite a bit, and I think I like it. Mom," he turned to face her, "school starts in a couple of weeks and I don’t want to go back looking like a sissy boy, I want to go back looking like a girl."

"That’s a pretty big step," his mother said softly, "are you sure about it?"

"Don’t patronize me, Mom," he said without anger. "You are the one that started dressing me like a girl and you are the one that started giving me female hormones, I’m just agreeing with you. I think that it all worked for the best. I don’t want to go back to looking like a plain old boy again. I’m looking more and more like a girl and I don’t want it to stop."

The silence was long before she said anything, "I really wasn’t trying to push you into being a girl. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah," Robin agreed, "I’m not so sure that I’m a girl, but I just can’t go back to being a boy. I like what I’m becoming. It feels like me. I like me more than I used to."

Patting his head softly and cupping his chin, she gave in to her boy, "I’ll contact the school Monday and see what we’ll have to do to allow you to go to school as a girl. Whether or not you choose to actually be a girl or not, we’ll have to tell the school that you want to be a girl before they will allow you to wear girl’s clothes. I’m sure of that."

Grinning, Robin looked hopeful, "You know that there was another boy like me that graduated last year over at Jefferson. He started living as a girl during his freshman year and he really didn’t have many problems with the other kids. Maybe the boys won’t bother me much either."

At work, on his birthday, there was a little party and he received many small gifts suitable for a girl. Tony also had a dozen roses for the feminine boy, as well as offered to give him a blow job for his birthday. Robin accepted but found that he wasn’t exactly up to the offer. This didn’t really surprise him as he hadn’t had any true erection for a month and wasn’t really excited at the prospect of Tony going down on him, though he wasn’t really sure why. There was also one other unexpected gift. On Monday, Robin had agreed to another business transaction with Mr. Thompson after work. As he opened the door to his little office, he noticed that it was no longer labeled for a securities office, but now said, "Robin’s Nest."

At home, Mom had several new outfits for him as gifts, and, paperwork from Dr. Carl and Dr. Andrews, a psychologist whom he had never met, both stating that they were treating the lad for transgenderism. It was the first step in allowing him to return to school in dresses.

Russ also dropped by that evening, bearing gifts. He brought a single red rose and a bottle of Intimate perfume, from his dad came a Britney Spears cd, and from his siblings, he offered a necklace, a thin silver chain supporting the name "Robin" in a feminine cursive. They were sitting down to cake and ice cream when Richie showed up with a gift, a flowered, pink controller for Robin’s Nintendo. The trio played games and watched tv until they passed out on the floor.

Friday brought Robin a new experience. A boy had moved into town and had to get his school physical. The appointment and physical had gone as routine but the boy hung around the waiting room till Robin got off. He walked Robin to the elevator and rode down with him while asking him for a date. There was no way this boy could know that Robin was a boy in a dress, no way that that could excite him, so he was honestly attracted to the girl he was seeing. And that he was attracted was clearly obvious, and that Robin was flattered was equally obvious. He had wavy brown hair and big brown eyes and a not-very-mature-but-there moustache. Polite and friendly, Robin wanted to accept but was torn by an already full schedule. Sadly she turned him down, with explanation, to some extent, but offered her phone number and asked that he call after school started. On the way home, Robin’s lack of conversation and unusual smile alerted his mother that something had happened but Robin just played it off as being glad that the weekend had arrived and that he was going to have some fun sitting with the kids that night.

As it turned out, sitting was fun that night. The kids had already started playing dress-up, ‘Brent’ was dressed in a light blue suit, her hair pulled into a low ponytail, and ‘Patty’ in a pretty black and white outfit with a Peter Pan collar, puffy sleeves, and two fluffy petticoats. Robin winced at the memories of himself in such a dress but relaxed when he released that two things were different, Patty wanted to be in the dress and the dress looked much more appropriate on a nine year old. ‘She’ approached Robin right before their dad, "I washed my hair and put conditioner in it and gel, too. Will you curl it for me?"

Richard gave a characteristic smirk and shrug of his shoulders, "He’s been waiting for you to do it all afternoon. They want to go out to eat again. Do you feel up to taking them dressed like that?"

Looking at the apprehensive faces, Robin bent down to straighten Patty’s collar, "Patty and Brent are such well behaved and attractive children. I would take them anywhere." The kids screamed and hugged Robin and their dad.

With the kids being dressed so nice, Robin felt that he couldn’t go out with them wearing shorts, so he asked his mom to get his lavender dress and white heels so he would look proper with the kids. His mom had returned with the items and she and Richard hadn’t been gone five minutes when Russ showed up wearing a suit.

Surprised to see him, he explained, "The kids called me up and said that we were going out to eat and that we were going dressed real nice."

"You little scamps," Robin scolded the kids. Turning to Russ, he asked, "You sure you don’t mind going out with them dressed like that?"

"Let’s see," Russ looked over his step-siblings, "Brent looks very debonaire in his suit and Patty is absolutely radiant. It seems to me that you are the one that I would question going out with, in shorts and a tee shirt, to dine? I think that the children and I shall be dining without you tonight."

Robin gave him a punch in the arm, "I’ll go change and fix-up. You keep them occupied."

Chugging up to Barb’s room, he tossed the lavender dress and heels on Richard’s bed and turned to Barb’s closet. He knew exactly what he was looking for, Richard’s last gift to his wife, a deep blue poly-rayon that stretched and shined, giving the appearance of a good paint job. Snatching it from the closet, he ran it back to the banister and hung it into the view of Richard’s offspring, "I need your permission, all three of you to wear this." The smaller ones nodded in rapid unison, the older, more slowly, and with an opened mouth.

Cups were set into the dress and upon the empire waist. Robin was almost sweating as he slithered into the slinky arraignment. Suddenly he was wanting to be seductively pretty and he wasn’t really understanding why. Stretching the midnight down his thighs, over the fresh suntan nylon of his legs, the lad suddenly caught his breath when he realized that he was intentionally looking as feminine as possible and it was because he wanted to look that way even more than he wanted to look that way for Russ. This was a bit of a revelation as he very much liked the way that Russ delighted in his very feminine appearance. Fortunately, he had brought along a pair of black heels, deciding, in error, against the need for something more dressy only after shoving the sandals into his pack.

Choosing the mascara, the boy slid on an extra coat, touched up the nose and forehead, and painted in a set of blood red lips. Fluffing his hair in the mirror, he stopped and reminisced on what had brought him there. It only took a few moments. The memories were clear and yet long in coming in so short a time. What he saw in the mirror was far different than he would have imagined a year, perhaps even three months, before. Suddenly the way he looked was no longer a punishment from his mother, but something he took pride in, and, he relished that he was pretty, a point reemphasized by his nipples swelling at the memory of Russ’ face saying the same upon seeing those breasts for the first time. Being a girl was something no longer happening to him, rather it was as she felt, and she was feeling very comfortable with that. A last check in the mirror, suggested a nicely developing sixteen year young girl, smiling subjectively. Swinging down the stairs, all eyes went wide, save for Russ’, whose lids squinted in smile.

Dinner was dandified on an upper middle-class level. They ate at McRae’s, an old restaurant in the best part of town. The older girl was a bit risque for her age in such a dress, but she behaved like a lady; the rest of the ensemble made pleasant review. And there was a nice walk after the meal, along the boardwalk and returning to the parking lot. Driving home, Robin sat cornered between the chair and the door, an easy turn to speak to the kids, less effort to turn to Russ. The conversation was mostly between the younger children. Robin would join in occasionally, but mostly she spent the ride running her toes up and down Russ’ leg and thinking about the evening to come.

Waking to a phone call on Saturday, Robin’s mom was saying that she and Richard had overslept and that he had to go in to solve a problem and she was late to work. Robin was forced to babysit, again, something that wouldn’t be a problem as there would be plenty of help from the boy kissing along her back. This had been the first time that they had intentionally spent the night together, and there is something very feminine about waking up next to a man. After dropping the phone onto it’s cradle, she turned and began kissing the lips that were sending shivers down her spine.

"You guys better get up and take a shower before daddy gets home," Becky remarked from the doorway.

"And you need to open a window in here," Paul added as he poked his head in, "it smells all sweaty like dad’s gym clothes."

Pulling the covers over their nakedness, the young adults shoo-ed the youngsters away. After dressing quickly, Russ changed the bedding and took a shower while Robin headed downstairs to make breakfast.

Becky stared at Robin over her bacon and eggs, "Are you in love with my brother?"

Pondering the idea for a moment, Robin answered, "I’m only sixteen, Becky. I’m not really sure what love is yet. I like your brother a lot, more than any other boy, and I feel safe with him, but I’m not sure that I’m in love with him."

"But you sleep with him," the child pressed, "you aren’t supposed to have sex with a boy until you love him."

Giggling, Robin replied, "Do you ever do something that you know that you are not supposed to do?" The girl nodded, ashamedly. "Well, just because I’m older doesn't mean that I do only what I’m supposed to do. Sometimes, when it doesn't hurt anyone, doing something that you’re not supposed to do isn’t so wrong. Maybe it would be better if I wasn’t sleeping with Russ, but right now, I think that it is something that is right for both of us, and maybe, maybe we are falling in love but I just don’t realize it yet. You won’t tell your daddy, will you?"

Sharing a glance with her brother, she said, "No. We won’t tell daddy. Do you think daddy is in love with your mommy?"

"I don’t know," Robin answered truthfully. "I do think that they are very fond of each other, and much like Russ and me, I think that they need each other right now. If they do fall in love and get married, would you like it?"

"Yeaaah," Becky responded quickly.

Paul nodded his head in strong agreement, and then added, "I’d like it a whole lot ‘cuz then you’d get to be my sister and I love you."

Tears came to Robin’s eyes as she squeezed the little boy. Becky joined in and they hugged until it got funny and laughter replaced the tears.

Sunday became filled with a ‘family’ atmosphere for the whole day. The foursome went picnicking, hiking, to the zoo, ate hotdogs in the park for supper, and managed to stay awake through a re-viewing of "American Tails." The kids finally fell asleep half way into "101 Dalmatians," just minutes before Richard showed to take Robin home.

After arriving, the adults went for a late supper. Robin begged out claiming exhaustion and wanting a long soak in the tub. At least, that was Robin’s plan, but a scant few minutes after the parents departure, Tony showed at the back door.

Letting him in, Tony had a bit of business to discuss, "Look, my cousin Bill is here and he knows about you, too. We used to sit on my roof and watch you together and he would be almost as excited as me. I’m sorry, but I told him that I got a blow job from you."

"You what?" Robin’s voice rose in anger.

"I’m sorry," Tony yelled above her, "but I’m proud of it." Robin hushed in astonishment. He continued, "I told him that we had only done it twice and that I had paid you for the second time because you didn’t want to do it again with me. So then he says that he’d pay twenty bucks for a blow job from you. So, look, I know that you’re not a whore or anything, but I told him I’d let you know that he was willing to pay for the favor. So there, I’ve told you. And the only reason I did it was because he’s my cousin and because I know that he likes you almost as much as I do."

"So you just want to pimp me out to your cousin?" Robin still wasn’t believing this, but, on the other hand, it wasn’t like she hadn’t done it for money before.

"No," Tony shot back, "I’m not interested in being your pimp. I just, well, he likes you, too. I’m going to go."

Almost jumping from his chair, Robin caught his arm, "This cousin of yours, is he the blonde one with the braces?"

Nodding, Tony added, "But he got his braces off two weeks ago."

Robin remembered the boy. She had talked to him while she was filling her bike tire at the service station during the last spring break. She had wondered why he was so friendly toward her, or "him," as she was at the time. And she remembered that he was very cute, something that was surprising to the feminized lad because, at the time, Robin wasn’t into thinking about the cuteness level of any boy. A smile crept across her face, "OK. I’ll do it for you, Tony. But you need to understand that I’m only doing this because he’s your cousin and because he’s cute. I’m taking the money only because there’s a pair of shoes I want to buy and I’m ten bucks short." The last statement was true to some extent, she was going to buy shoes with the money.

"Hey," Tony grinned, "wanna get high before you do it?" Robin grinned.

It was still warm in the park. There was no breeze at all that night and a heavy cloud cover kept the heat on the ground. The trio were sharing a bowl when Bill held out the twenty to Robin. She smiled, releasing smoke through her nose, and kissed the good-looking partial stranger. Soon she was kneeling between his legs, bobbing her head on his shaft. Tony had made himself scarce but was still within earshot, listening to his cousin’s moans and Robin’s gasping breaths.

Easing into the hot, lilac and gardenia laced water, Robin burped a salty, pot-scented reminder of the evening. Gliding the razor along her right calf, she remembered how Russ had massaged there while they were making love. School would be starting in one week and returning as a girl would cause some problems, that much was sure, but Tony had said that night, when she had told him that she would be going to school as a girl, that he would be there to protect her. Between he and Russ, and to some extent, Richie, she wasn’t as afraid as she could be. Looking at her large, dark nipples breaking the surface, she smiled at herself and switched the blade to her left leg.

Barely able to drag from bed Monday morning, Robin was a few minutes late to work, and struggled to stay awake despite the Monday morning heyday. Meeting Tony at Robin’s Nest, Robin chose a burger and a short nap to a lustful interlude. Refreshed, Robin took a call from Mr. Thompson, agreeing to a meeting after work.

Back at Robin’s Nest, instead of a fifty and an enthusiastic erection, the older man gave Robin a shade of dejavu. Explaining that his sister was again pregnant and had cut-off his brother-in-law until after the birth of the child, Mr. Thompson suggested that the brother-in-law would also be a paying client if Robin was in agreement. Further, as it happened, Robin knew the man, Sam Jacobs, as the owner of a physical therapy business located on the second floor of the building, and also knew that the man possessed a fine physic and a thick moustache, about which she had wondered what it would be like to kiss.

"OK," Robin agreed, "but I don’t want you pimping me to anyone else. I’m only doing this because he’s your brother-in-law and because I’m going to be out of a job at the end of the week and haven’t saved-up much money." Mr. Thompson made the call to his brother-in-law after he and Robin concluded their business transaction.

Sam was a bit more generous than his brother-in-law; his endowment was more generous, also. Rather long with a bulbous head, Sam’s thrusting was literally choking Robin beyond her ability to endure. But she hung in there like a trooper, and sighed in relief rather than orgasm when the man’s hot load was copiously shot into the depths of her throat. Even with her limited experience, Robin was becoming somewhat a connoisseur of cum. Sam’s load was heavy, thick but not heavily salty, and somewhat fresh in taste. The man was healthy, ate healthy, and probably didn’t masturbate very much. This, coupled with the 33% raise, caused Robin to invite the man to return.

Tuesday and Wednesday were her mother’s days off, so Robin had to curtail her afternoon business appointments until Thursday and Friday, but was able to recover somewhat with a luncheon affair with Bill on Wednesday. Tony was clearly jealous of losing his nooner, so Robin attempted to appease him with a hand job while Bill massaged her esophagus from the inside.

Friday was an especially sad day for the skirted lad. Dr. Carl had cleared the last hour of the day to allow the staff a fair well party for Robin. There were some presents, salty plums and flowers and such, and a cake, and a lot of laughing that ended with tears and hugs. Funny how we humans have parties at sad events -- ever been to a wake?

It also was to be her last day at "Robin’s Nest," but at least she had seen it out in style. Sam and Mr. Thompson, both feeling lamentable at the impending loss of their favorite little cock sucker, offered her a ‘final’ deal: an oral on Mr. Thompson while Sam pumped her rear. It seems that Sam, who called in the appointment, had, of late, discovered Robin’s origin and ‘wanted more,’ and was willing to pay for it, but wanted it without his brother-in-law knowing the true nature of the adolescent fellatist. The $200 offer made the act bearable -- no one but Russ had ever had her there. As it turned-out, the chore was more a delight. Sam was gentle, fortunate as his big tool could have easily torn her, and both men and minx had fun, another party, as it were, before the sad event.

Leaving Robin’s Nest that evening, she reluctantly returned the key to Mr. Thompson, who shared a tear with her. Giving her a hug, he slipped a extra twenty into her breast pocket, kissed her forehead, and walked away, head down, sulking. Sam, who was several steps ahead, stopped at the corner, smirked a little grin, and blew a kiss. Leaning against the wall, Robin allowed a few tears to slide down her face. Stepping forward to touch the lettering on the door in farewell, she turned for the elevator.

Striking another blow into the day, Richard was sick and staying home that evening, causing her mother to stay home also, giving the woman time to evaluate Robin’s wardrobe and censor those items that were "too mature" for a sixteen year old girl to wear to school. Dutifully, she separated the items into different spaces in the closet. Robin made note as to where her favorite items were moved for wear later.

Richie came over on Saturday and the friends went to the mall. It was a bit of relief for Robin. No longer was there any feeling of dread as people looked for now they were looking at an attractive girl, a young woman; no longer was there a trace of sissified boy.

Walking into a juniors department now came natural, as did smiling at the boys that ogled over the blonde girl. She picked up the shoes she had wanted and a nice blouse, played some video games, and walked right past the boy that had captured her as she had snuck into the theater without him giving anything more than a leering glance.

Robin’s mom got off a little early and took Robin and Richie to supper. When finished, they ordered some take out for Richard and the kids. They were surprised by the gift but very glad to have the company, especially since a sick Richard and the two energetic youngsters had gotten to the point of getting on each others nerves. At home later, Robin went to bed and fell asleep surprisingly easily considering the possibly humiliating and/or frightening first day of school for the ‘new girl,’ Robin.

Passing into the hallways via the side entrance, Robin quickly became aware that the word about her was out. Surprisingly, while many girls shunned and turned from her, many clamored about her, wishing her well and making small talk. There were points and jousts and laughing stupid remarks from the boys, but there were also a few smiles, some of which hinted more of interest than humor. One boy, Jeff, ran into her, face to face, at the corner, an incident that was immediately jeered by immature idiots as: "... he’s all kissy face with him." Jeff looked into Robin’s eyes, knowing who she was, and kissed her fully, and sweetly on the lips. Shocked, pleasantly, Robin returned the kiss. At their break, Jeff remarked, "I so seldom get to kiss a pretty girl." Robin flushed and grinned with glee at his remark.

All in all, Robin received more support and positive encounters than unpleasant ones. The day went well, until her fourth period, when she was to again be a film aide. It was just after two PM when Robin’s mom received the phone call:

"Ms. Sherman?"

She hesitated at the recognition of the voice, "Yes."

He continued, "This is Mark Schaefer, Robin’s principal."

"Yes, Mr. Schaefer. I remember you."

The man took a deep breath before he spoke again, "There has been an incident here at school involving Robin and three other boys."

"Oh, Jesus!" she interrupted him, "I though that I had finally gotten all the fight out of that boy."

"That may be," he agreed, "however, I assure you, fighting...is not...the problem."

 

 

 

© 2001
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