A Grown Boy

[Sandra B]

X  A Few Modifications

As Sinead was cunning and devious, so was Florence inventive.  They shared the double bed that night, and Sinead was awakened at six in the morning by her friend tugging at her shirt.
“You awake, Sinead?”
Sinead grunted.
“Listen, I’ve been thinking.  I’ve had a few ideas.  Tell me what you think.”  And she began to hypothesize.  Sinead was quickly awake, and paying attention.  Finally she spoke.
“I thought I was the one with the twisted mind…”
“It’s not twisted – just imaginative.  Bill can do anything – he’s not a bad painter either.”
“No, he made a good job of the walls…”
“You know what I’m talking about!  He could do it, no problem.  He doesn’t have to be sodding Constable – if it looks like a stage set it’ll be all the more amusing.”
“And he’s a carpenter too?”
“Of course.  That’s his main trade.  That'll be simple for him.”
“Sim’s going to need some more things, then…”
“Let’s take him back to the mall straight after school Friday.  There’s a toy shop there too.”
“He’ll love that.”
“Well it doesn’t matter what he thinks.  This is our project, Sinead.  He’s just assisting.”
“You make it sound like he wants to be involved.”
“And you know what else?  I’d forgotten, but I’ve still got my first uniform from when I started at St. Agatha’s.  I was as big then as Simon is now.  I’m sure it would fit him.”
“That’s a brilliant idea.”
“I’d have to get the skirt shortened, of course.  That was under the old regime – remember Miss Carson?  “Below the knee, girls, please, and no higher!”  Remember?”
“Only too well.  Thank goodness the place has lightened up a bit now.  But the skirt…”
“I’ll take it to the dry cleaners.  We’ll need to decide how short, of course…”
They looked at each other and chuckled.
“Depends if we’re going to take him to school with us, I suppose,” laughed Sinead.
“I’ll measure the red one we bought and have it made the same length.”
“Hmm...maybe an inch shorter?”
“Okay.”

When Sinead got to school Thursday morning, Florence was waiting for her.
“Bill’s done everything.  Will you be able to pop round quickly tonight and have a look?”
“You bet!”
They started giggling again.  But their excitement did not go unnoticed.  Their two friends were observing them from a distance.
“Those two are up to something,” said Tessa to Amy.
“Yeah.  And it’s something they don’t want us to know about.  Florence has blown off Friday again.”
“We need to find out what it is.  Let’s follow Florence after school tomorrow.  See what she gets up to.”
You’re on.  I’m Holmes, and you’re my sidekick, Doctor Watson.”
“No way!  I suggested it - I’m Holmes!”

That evening, Florence and Sinead caught the bus which would take them to Florence’s new house.
“I think you’re going to like what Bill’s done, Sinead.”
“I can’t wait to see it.”

At home, Florence let them in and they hurried to the basement door.
“Don’t look till you're downstairs,” said Florence, switching on the lights.
“Okay.”
They descended, Sinead keeping her eyes on her feet.  At the foot of the stairs she stepped into the room and looked around.  She screamed with delight.
The bathroom and built-in wardrobe occupied the right-hand corner of the far wall.  The other corner had been transformed.  On the back wall, and on the side wall, Bill had painted a mural of the seaside.  There was yellow sand, turquoise sea with white surf, and above it a blue sky with puffy clouds and seagulls.  On the horizon were a couple of sailing boats, and on the side wall a boy building a sandcastle.  Sinead was aware of another mural on her left as she hurried to see it – a garden, with flowers and a tall green hedge.  But the seaside was the one that really caught her interest.  When she got closer she saw the whole thing.
“That’s so clever, Flo!  You didn’t tell me he was going to do all this!”
Running between the corner of the wardrobe and the wall, Bill had fixed a wooden beam about a foot high, painted yellow.  And the shallow box that had been created from the beam, the side of the wardrobe, and the walls, was filled with lovely yellow sand, blending into the sand on the mural!
“Like it?  She flipped a switch, and the scene was lit up by a small floodlight high on the wall. 
“It’s fantastic.”
“Imagine Simmy there, with his bucket and spade.  We can get him those tomorrow when we’re at Middenwell.  Now look at the other one.”
“You were right.  He is a very good artist.”
“He is, isn’t he?  It’s just a fairly ordinary garden scene.  I asked him to make both of the murals big enough to form the background to any photos we might want to take.”
“I can see he likes tulips.  It’s great.  But the seaside one…that’s incredible.”
“Now, Sinead, look over here.”
She directed Sinead’s attention to a low, oblong wooden platform, like a box, against the wall to the left of the desk.  It was about a foot high, two feet wide, and a foot and a half deep.  It looked like varnished oak.  In the very centre Bill had screwed a small steel plate and staple.
“That platform's fixed to the wall.  It won’t move.  We can put him up there, run a chain through the staple and padlock it to his ankles, and he’ll have to stay standing there as long as we want, like a living statue.”
“Oh my god.  That’s so clever.  And you’ve got the chain and everything?”
“Everything, yes.  And if you look over on the opposite wall, you'll see a spotlight we can use to light him up.  And around the walls, I also got Bill to put up a few mooring rings, so we can tether him up wherever we want to.”
Sinead stood back and looked around the room.  “Honestly, Florence, I’m shocked.  I had no idea you had such a flair for stagecraft and, well, bondage!”
“Well now you know.  And there’s one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“You know those girlie magazines you found under Simon’s bed?”
“Yes.  I brought them round here.  We had a good laugh over them.  You said you were going to dump them.”
“Well, I didn’t.  I meant to, but I hid them under my wardrobe, and then I forgot about them.  I found them again when we moved.”
“And…?”
“Follow me.”
She walked over and unlocked the door of the little room under the stairs – the “cell”.  Inside was a camp bed, a bedside cabinet, and not much else.  She turned on the light.
“Oh, shit!  Florence!”
“I took out all the best pictures and pasted them onto the walls.”
“You’ve wallpapered the whole room!  There’s not an inch of empty space!  It’s…indecent!”
“There’s a few mags left – they’re in the cabinet.  If he starts misbehaving, we’ll lock him in here with all his rude pictures.  He won’t be able to look anywhere without seeing tits and bums!”
“…And the rest…  It’ll probably drive him crazy…”
“It might.  Or he might like it.  We’ll find out, won’t we?  There’s a bolt on the inside, so he can shut us out if he chooses.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a punishment…”
“No.  But we’re not into punishing him, are we?”
“No Flo, you’re right.  We’re into playing, not punishing.”
“Quite.”
“I can’t wait for tomorrow.  Let’s hope they have some pretty swimwear at the shop.”

[Sandra B]

XI  Spies

Sinead waited till Friday morning to tell Simon the bad news.
“Simmy, darling, can you meet us at the mall again after school please?  The usual place.”
“What?  No!  What do you want to go there again for?  I thought we were s’posed to be going straight to Florence’s!”
“You’re so ungrateful!  We just want to buy you a few more things, that’s all!  Honestly, we spoil you, we really do.”
“Not going!” he shouted, sounding for all the world, Sinead thought, like a sulky eight-year-old.
“Oh, really?  You’re not going.  All right.  No problem.”  She took out her phone.
“What are you doing?”  There was a note of anxiety in his voice.
“Nothing.  Just sending a couple of pictures…”
“No!  All right!  All right – I’ll come to the stupid shop!”
“Are you sure?  I mean, I really don’t mind…  It would sort of be fun to see what Jack thought of your…”
“I said I’ll go!”  He made a fishy mouth.  It’s not fair, though.  Please don’t make me see that lady again…”
“Well, she may not be there.  Who knows?  Anyway, Florence will be pleased.  She’s had an idea for something you might like.”
“What?”
“Oh, I can’t say – it’s  a surprise…”

After school, Florence was waiting for Sinead by the front gates of St. Agatha’s.  And from a safe distance, Amy and Tessa were watching her.  They saw Sinead running across the playground to join her friend.  Then both headed off towards the bus garage.  Amy and Tessa followed. 
They had been doubtful of being able to follow Florence, without her realising, if she got on a bus.  So they were relieved when their quarry went and waited at the stop for buses to Middenwell only.  They were frequent, so they were able to take the next, and only be a few minutes behind.  Even so, they were going to need luck.
“We’ll never find them once they get inside that place,” remarked Tessa, as they approached their destination.  It gets insanely busy on a Friday night.”
“Yeah.  And they must be inside by now.  We’re at least ten minutes behind them.”
However, as the alighted from the bus, they were surprised to see Sinead and Florence standing together only twenty yards away.  Fortunately they were so engrossed in conversation they didn’t see their friends, and they were able to dart behind the bus shelter, whence they awaited developments.
“What are they doing?”
“Waiting for someone.”
“Wonder who?”
“Wait…it’s Sinead’s little brother…”
“Simon?”
“Yeah, Simon.  Now they’re all heading off towards the mall.”
“Let’s go.  We musn’t lose them.”
Holmes and Watson kept their distance and kept well hidden amongst the shoppers.  Sinead and Florence hurried purposefully forward, with Simon lagging slightly behind.  When they entered their favourite shop, their pursuers took up positions each side of the main door, and watched them through the glass.  They headed straight for an assistant with short, black hair, in the children’s section.
“Hello, guys,” she said with a big smile.  “What can I help you with this time?”
“Hello…what is your name, miss?”
“I’m Alison.  I know Simon, and I know you’re Sinead, but I didn’t catch your friend’s…”
“Florence,” piped up Florence.  “Hello, Alison.”
“Hi.  Simon, have you tried those pretty hot pants on yet?”
Simon instantly turned red and looked at the ground.
“Not yet,” grinned Sinead.  “We’re saving them for the right occasion.  Today we’re looking for swimwear, though.”
“Swimwear!”  Alison’s face lit up.  “Great!  We have some very pretty things.  One piece, or…?”
“Maybe a one-piece, and a bikini as well,” suggested Florence.  “It depends what you have.”
“Follow me, guys.  We have quite a good selection.”  She led them deeper into the shop, to the very back of the girls’ section.  Outside, Amy and Tessa were squinting through the glass, but they had a very restricted view.
“We need to get closer,” hissed Amy.  “Come on.  Keep your head down.”
They crept through the racks of clothes till they were as near as they dared, and crouched there, peeping over the rows of hangers.
“What are they doing?”
“Hold on.  They’re…looking at swimwear!  Is that all?  That’s boring.  And why do they need the boy with them?”
“They probably have to look after him for the evening.  I know Sinead’s mum’s away, and they’re staying with their aunt.”
“Watch out!  Sinead’s coming this way!”
“Hide!  Here!”
Sinead passed by only a few yards away.
“I’ll follow her,” said Amy.  “You stay here and see what happens – if anything.”

Amy followed Sinead to a nearby toy shop, and watched, puzzled, as she selected a child's bucket and spade, made of soft red plastic.  Then she returned to the clothes shop.  Amy sneaked back to her friend.
“Well?” 
“Florence has bought some stuff.  I couldn’t see quite what, but it looked like some kids’ swimwear – like a couple of one-piece swimming suits and a bikini.”
“Sinead bought a bucket and spade.”
“What?”
“Yeah.  I know who they’re for.”
“Who?”
“They must be for Florence’s sister.  Susie, is it?  It’s probably her birthday, or for her holiday or something.”
“Right…  Well that was boring.  Come on, let’s get out of here before they see us.”
And Holmes and Watson departed, feeling somewhat deflated.
“It’s weird, though,” said Tessa, on the bus back into town.  “I don’t understand why Florence is wasting her Friday evenings doing stuff like that.  I really wanted to spend time with her in her new room.”
“Me too.  It feels like she’s deliberately excluding us.  If she doesn’t invite us next week, I think we should gatecrash.”
“Good idea, Amy.  We are part of the club, after all.” 

[Sandra B]

XII  Uniforms

Sinead and Florence, on the other hand, were very excited by their expedition.  They sat together on the bus to Florence’s, with Simon in front of them.  Florence kept stroking his hair, because she knew he hated it so much.
“Stop it, Florence!  Stop doing that!  It’s annoying!”
“Is it?  I thought you liked it.”  And she started playing with his ear, much to the amusement of two middle-aged ladies sitting opposite – the type that fawn all over girls and babies, but think all boys are naughty and need to be regularly disciplined – which made Simon even more upset.
Sinead meanwhile couldn’t resist pulling the swimwear out of its bag and admiring it. 
“Good choice, Flo.  I love this rainbow lycra one-piece.  It’s so shimmery – all the rainbow colours sort of ripple when it moves.  He’s going to look so cute.  And the pink one!  I love those little frilly yellow wings around the legs, and the “Girl Power” logo.”
“Take a look at the bikini.  The top is tiny – but then, he’s got nothing to hide, has he?”
“Yes, I see – narrow little triangles of yellow satin.  He may have a problem keeping his nipples covered.  And the bottoms!  I’ve always liked tie-side bikinis.  And I really like how they’re ruched – they look really pretty.”
“Yes.  Alison said these were the best choice.  The ruching will give him a bit of room, and the legs are quite tightly elasticated, so nothing will be able to escape.”
The women (who naturally had been listening to every word) were staring now, looking from Simon to the swimming costumes and back again.  The nearest one covered her mouth and gasped.
“Are they really for…”  And she pointed rudely at Simon, who turned red and stared out of the window.
Sinead, who was a bit miffed at their noseyness, replied “maybe..,” in a tone that said the intrusion was unwelcome.  Florence was slightly more forthright.
“Mind your own beeswax, missus…”

They were not sorry to get off the bus and get to Florence’s.  They went straight down into the basement.  Florence put a “Do Not Disturb” notice on the door, and locked it.  She had told her parents she would have guests staying over and that they’d look after themselves.  Simon followed them slowly down the staircase, looking around the room open-mouthed.  For a moment he even forgot the threat of the humiliations to come.
“Wow!  This is amazing!  It’s huge!  This is all your room, Flo?”
“Yes, darling.  Like it?”
“You’re so lucky!  What are these big paintings on the walls?  And there’s a sandbox!”  His face fell.  “Oh..,” he said, flatly, as the true significance of it slowly dawned on him.
“Yes, Sim – I am lucky.  But I’m not going to keep it to myself.  Your sister has a key too.  And if you’re good, I shall let you and your friends use it now an then.”
He brightened up at this.  “You will?”
“I will.  But you need to be good.  You know what I mean.”
“I don’t have any choice, do I?”
“None at all,” said Sinead.  “And this evening we’re going to show you why.  Now, we’re both in our uniforms, and I think it would be nice of you were too.”  She took off her rucksack and unzipped it.  “Here.  I’ve brought some of your panties over, and Florence has got a little present for you.”
From the wardrobe, Florence produced her old school uniform, and from her bag, her old school skirt, suitably abbreviated. “Go and change in the bathroom.  No, leave the shoes and socks and the jacket here.  Put them on when you come out.”
“Which panties would you like, Simmy?”
He sighed.  “It doesn’t matter.”
“Choose…”
“All right.  The blue ones.”
“Good choice.  Match the uniform.”
He returned after a couple of minutes, in his crisp white blouse with the rounded collar points, striped tie, and little pleated tartan skirt, that barely covered his panties.  He presented himself for inspection, Sinead noticed, as if seeking approval.  She may have raised an eyebrow, but she was careful not to react in any way that might spoil the moment.  Florence experienced a mild surge of motherly tenderness as she held the blazer for him.  Then she sat him down and helped him on with his long white socks and black school shoes.  She too noticed that for the first time he wasn't looking displeased.  She had set up a free-standing full-length mirror against the cell wall, and invited Simon to look at himself, which he did without demur, straightening his hair with his hand and then vainly trying to pull his little skirt down onto his hips; but it remained stubbornly belted around his waist.
“My panties are showing, Flo…”
“They’re not really.  It’s only because that mirror is at an angle, so when you look down you’re looking up your skirt.”
“Oh…”
“You look very pretty.”
He turned to her and almost smiled!  That was the first time that Sinead had entertained the faintest hope that her project may one day reach a successful conclusion.
“Now come on, Sim.  Sit down on the sofa with us and we’ll show you the photoshoot you did with Sinead,” Florence continued, reassuringly.  I’ll put the laptop on the coffee table.  There.  Now, would you like to see the photos first?”
“Okay.”
He paid close attention to each one.
“You look very nice there, I think,” said Florence.
“Yeah…” replied Simon, doubtfully.  “I don’t mind the hoodie itself…I mean, it’s a nice colour…but I can’t wear it out, can I?  Not with that on the back.  Or the sweatshirt, or the T-shirt.”
“Why not?  A lot of people will think you’re just having a joke, and those that take it at face value will probably think how brave you are to tell everyone.”
“Maybe…that’s what Alison said, too.”
At last they came to the series of Simon in his yellow panties and T-shirt.  Florence looked across at Sinead, and she gave an almost imperceptible shake on the head.  Florence knew what that meant; skip over that final picture.  Even so, Simon was frowning as Florence scrolled through them.  But she and Sinead kept up a very matter-of-fact commentary, in an attempt to minimise Simon’s embarrassment.
“The yellow of the T-shirt suits you so well, Sim,” remarked Florence, approvingly.
“It does,” agreed Sinead, seriously.  “It goes with his sunny complexion.”
“And his sunny nature!”
Simon smiled.  He was more relaxed now.  Florence hadn’t even commented on his panties.  Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.  The school uniform was comfortable, and it felt good to have his legs open to the air right up to his crotch.  He sighed.  He felt he wouldn’t have minded at all if he’d been born female.

The video might have been more of a problem, had not Florence put her arm around him and given him a squeeze.
“Simon!  Look at yourself.  You look great!  What are you acting so shy for?  I mean, it’s kind of cute, but…”
“Yes, you’re far too self-conscious,” added Sinead.  “Stop thinking of what your friends would say, and realise what an attractive person you are.”
The flattery was beginning to chip away at Simon’s doubts.
“Am I?”
“If it weren’t for that thatch,” laughed Florence, putting a friendly hand on his knee, “you could easily pass as a girl.  No, I mean that as a compliment.  Isn’t that what you really want?”
“Er…”  Simon looked puzzled.  “I never said that…”
“No…but is it true?  I’m not saying you should be a girl, but don’t you feel most comfortable when you’re dressed as one?”
Simon blushed and looked down to avoid Florence’s directness.  His hands were in his lap, and unconsciously he pulled down the hem of his skirt, which had ridden up until his blue panties were visible.
“Well?”
“Don’t know, really…”
Florence stood up suddenly.  She went to the wardrobe, grabbed something and came back.  “This is my old school beret.  Put it on.”
“Okay…”
He pulled it on clumsily.  Florence adjusted it. 
“Right.  Let’s go.”
“W-what?  Where?”
“Out.  Coming, Sinead?”
“Ready when you are.”

[Sandra B]

XIII  On the Beach

Simon retreated a pace, but the girls took one hand each, and dragged him up the stairs.  In a moment, he found himself out in the street.
“Now don’t start getting embarrassed.  We’re all three in uniform.  You’re no different from us.  Everyone’s going to assume you’re a girl, all right?  Now we’re going to let go of your hands.  Walk between us…  And look confident, for goodness’ sake!  If you want to give yourself away, just keep looking nervous like that.”
“Suppose we meet one of my friends…?”
“Don’t worry,” grinned Sinead.  “In the skirt you’re wearing, they won’t be looking at your face!”

They went to the corner shop to buy some milk.  “Hello, girls!” called the lady at the counter when they came in.  She liked the girls from St. Agatha’s; always polite and well-behaved.  They made Simon pay, and she didn’t bat an eyelid.  Called him “love”.
“See?  If she’d thought you were a boy, she’d have called you “sweetie”. 
Simon was astonished.  He’d never thought of himself as girlish-looking.  But he caught sight of himself in a shop window, and the truth began to dawn.
They went into the post office, and the girls made him buy a book of stamps.  He was treated, like most of the customers, with bored indifference.  Then they went for a walk in the park.  They actually passed a group of boys from Simon’s school, whose lecherous glances assured him they were seen only as three girls.  His heart began to pound.  Possibilities were opening up, things he’d never dared to dream of…  Then they headed home.  By this time, Florence’s parents were back.  They turned to greet the girls as they walked into the lounge.
“Hi Sinead!  Haven’t seen you for a while,” smiled Florence’s mother.
“And whose this, Florence?  A new recruit to the club?” laughed her father.
“Oh, this is Simone.”  She nudged him.
“Oh…hi…”
“Hi Simone.  Have you seen Florence’s new room?”
“Y-yes…yes, I have…”
“Don’t let her lead you astray, will you?  Goodness knows what goes on down there!” joked her mother.
“Anyway, we have to have a meeting,” said Florence.  “Urgent business, mum.  Don’t worry about supper.  We’ll look after ourselves.”
“Well…actually, Florence, I was about to tell you…  We’ve been invited out to dinner.  We may be late back, so I’ve asked Bella to come over.”
“Oh, really?  But Susie’s staying over at Harriet’s, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Mum, we’re fourteen!”
“Yes, but…well, you know, I just feel happier if…there’s an adult here…”
“An adult?  Well, why have you asked Bella, then?” said Florence, sarcastically.
“Well, she is seventeen, you know, and…”
“You’ve explained the new protocol to her, I hope?  No trespassers below stairs.”
“Well, not yet.  But I will, of course, as soon as she gets here.”
“Don’t forget.  Come on, girls.”

They filed through the little door, and Florence locked it behind her.  They trooped down the stairs.
“Well?  Convinced?” asked Florence.
“Maybe…it’s weird…”
“Weird?  You have no idea, do you Sim?”
“No idea…?”
“No idea what a pretty face you have…”
“Oh…”  Simon quickly changed the subject, despite a little thrill of pleasure.  “Florence, who’s Bella?”
“Ah.  Bella.  The babysitter.  Or used to be.  You may remember her.  She babysat you and Susie a couple of times.  These days I thought she was just for Susie.  Who is she?  She’s a fu…”
“Don’t say it, Flo,” interrupted Sinead.
“No.  You’re right.  She’s…how can I put it?  A nosey, self-absorbed, exhibitionist tart?  Does that about cover it, Sinead?”
“Pretty much.  Anyway, Simon would be a bit too young for her taste, I think.”
“I hope so.  But she’s not getting to see him, anyway.”  She turned to Simon.  “Now, young lady.  We’re all going to the beach.  Get that uniform off and put your swimsuit on.  The pink one first.  Go on, off you go.  I have to prepare the paddling pool, and get the camera set up.”

They sent Simon to the bathroom to change.  Then Florence pulled a deflated plastic kids’ pool out from the bottom of the wardrobe, and began to inflate it with a foot pump, while Sinead filled a bucket at the sink.  By the time Simon reappeared it was half full.
He skulked by the bathroom room, hands clasped discreetly in front of him. 
“You took your time,” said Florence.  “Does it fit?”
Simon squirmed in reply, but said nothing.
“I can see it fits perfectly.  Alison knows her job all right.”
“Simmy, we want a few photos as you are, first of all,” said Sinead.  “Then you’ll get wet, and we’ll do some more.  Come on now, into the sand pit.”
He climbed in, reluctantly, and looked back over his shoulder.  Florence  was adjusting the camera and tripod.  Sinead turned on the floodlight.
“Ooh, it’s good, Flo.  It looks like sunshine.”
Simon was blinking in the bright light.  He turned around to face the camera.
“Pick up the bucket and spade, darling,” Sinead instructed him.
As he did so, Florence noticed with satisfaction that the skimpy little swimsuit left no doubt about his real gender.  The little pleated yellow wings on the legs served to focus attention on the critical area.
“Good.  Perfect.  Now smile….”
After the first session, Simon was told to splash about in the pool, until he was wet all over.  Then the photos and videos resumed.  He really looked very sweet, despite his occasional frowns of embarrassment, especially with the sand coating his legs and bottom, and the wet, semi-transparent, swimsuit clinging to him, showing off his boyish charms to great advantage.  But to Florence’s delight, he slowly lost his self-consciousness, and played in the sand innocently enough, genuinely having fun, and every now and then grinning at her cheekily.
“He’s so cute,” whispered Florence.  “What a pity he doesn’t have a little playmate.”
“Oh gosh, Flo, wouldn’t that be the best?  Jack or William or someone.  But we’d never get one of them into girls’ clothes.”
“Hmm.  Maybe not…”
But the fantasy was suddenly dismissed by a loud knocking at the door.
“Florence?  What are you doing down there?”
Simon froze, looking alarmed.
“Don’t worry, darling,” sighed Florence.  “It’s only that bitch Bella.  Stay where you are.  I’ll go and sort her out.”
She ran up the stairs to the door.
“What do you want, Bella?  We’re busy down here.”
There was a pause.  “There’s someone at the door.”
“Someone at the door?  Who?”
“They want you.”
“Who are they.  Oh, shit.  All right.”
She unlocked the door and opened it.  Bella burst in, pushing her aside.  “What’s going on down here?”
“What the fuc-k?” cried Florence, furious.  “Is there someone at the door or not?”
“Only me, darling,” smirked Bella.  “I just wanted to see what you get up to in your private room.  I am supposed to be baby-sitting you, after all.”
Florence was seething.  “Didn’t my parents tell you we weren’t to be disturbed?”
“They did.  That’s what made me so suspicious.”  She caught sight of Simon.  “Who’s that…is that a boy?”
“Just get out, Bella, or I’ll tell my mum, and you’ll never work here again!”
But Bella was staring at the figure in the sandbox.  “Is that your brother, Sinead?  Why is he dressed in a girl’s swimsuit?  And he’s all wet.  Oh, you’re having a photo session...I see...”
“It’s none of your business, Bella.  Now get out!”
“All right, if you say so.  You won’t mind if I tell your parents what I saw here, I’m sure.  Bye then…”  And she made as if to go.
“Hold on.  Why would you tell my parents?”
“No reason.  Just think they might be interested…”
Florence sighed.  “What do you want?  Money?”
“Money?  I’ve got money.  Let me watch, that’s all.  Let me watch what you’re doing, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
Florence looked at Sinead.  Sinead shrugged.  There wasn’t really a choice.
“All right.  Come in.  It’s all quite innocent.  But I guess you can watch.  We’re pretty much finished anyway.”
“Thanks, Florence.”
Florence took her by the arm and whispered in her ear.  “But listen.  Don’t you dare laugh at him.  He enjoys dressing up as a girl, and we’re trying to reassure him it’s okay.  Understand?”
“Perfectly.  You’re reassuring him, and having a little bit of fun at the same time, right?  Don’t worry, I won’t spoil your games.  He looks far too cute just as he is…”

[Sandra B]

XIV  Bella’s Plan

Florence locked the door, and followed Bella downstairs. 
“Hi Sinead.”  Bella gave her a self-satisfied smile, and clip-clopped over to where Simon was standing, looking puzzled.  She was dressed in skin-tight black faux-leather leggings, high-heeled ankle boots, and a silver metallic crop top taut across her breasts, with a blue jewel in her navel, and a wristful of silver bangles, which jingled as she walked.
“Hello, Simon.  Do you remember me?”
Simon, enveloped by a cloud of perfume, blushed and stared.  His eyes were level with her chest.  Her breasts, whether by nature or support was not clear to him, were of the pointed variety, the nipples clearly visible under the thin silver lycra.  “H-hello, B-bella.  Yes, you b-babysat me and Susie once or twice, I think.  And I remember you from school.”
“That’s clever of you.  I didn’t think the younger boys were interested in the sixth-formers.”  She smiled innocently.  “That’s a very cute swimsuit!  Turn around and show me.”  Simon obliged, swivelling his head so as not to lose sight of the new arrival for more than a split second.  “It really suits you.  I feel sorry for boys, generally.  The choice of clothes!  I mean, they’re so dull!”
Simon stared at her.  “Y-yes…”  The combination of the leggings, the proximity of the breasts, the perfume, and Bella’s full lips, was producing an involuntary reaction not lost on any of the observers.
“Do you have any other girls’ clothes?”
Before either of the girls could stop him, he blurted out, eager to impress, “Oh, yes.  I have a school uniform – I went out in it today – and  lots of panties, and a bikini, and…”
“Goodness!  You have a whole wardrobe!”
Conscious he may have said too much, he tried to backtrack.  “Course, I haven’t worn everything yet.  I…”
“Would you wear some of them for me?  I’d really like to see them.  I know quite a lot about girls’ clothes.  Maybe I could help…advise you…?”
“Yes, I think he better had change,” said Sinead, ironically, and added, under her breath, “before he stretches than swimsuit any more.”
“Sim, would you go an have a shower – wash that sand off yourself – and maybe put on one of your new skirts.”
“I’d like to see the bikini,” Bella said, pointedly.
“All right – the bikini.  But put the red skirt on over the top, Sim.”
After he had disappeared into the bathroom, Bella turned to the girls.
“Why, you naughty things!  What are you up to with that poor boy?”
“He’s not poor,” countered Sinead.  “He’s having the time of his life doing what he likes best – dressing up.  We’re merely…facilitating it.”
“I see…” said Bella, disbelievingly.
“It was all quite innocent till you gatecrashed.  Not any more.”
“Oh, come on!  Innocent?”
“He likes it.  He likes showing off.  And we’re convincing him he can, without feeling embarrassed.”
“And all the photo stuff?”
“That’s our insurance.  In case he tries to change his mind.” 
“Oh.  And who would you show it to?  To his friends?”
“Well, we’d threaten to…”
Bella looked from one to the other and shook her head.
“I don’t buy it.  But I’ll tell you what.  Let me come in on it, and I’ll help.  Buy him clothes, foster the illusion.  Everything.”
“Why?” asked Florence.  “What’s in it for you?”
“Just one thing.”  She giggled.  “In two weeks it’s my eighteenth birthday.  I’m having a party – you can come, of course.  Girls only.  I was trying to think of a fun treat for my friends.  Now I know what it is.”
“Simon?”
“Simon.  I want to dress him as a little maid – you know, uniform, apron, cap, the lot - and have him wait on everyone.  Can you imagine?  My friends will be so enchanted!  And he’ll love it.  All those girls fawning all over him…”
“No,” said Florence, doubtfully, I don’t think that’s…fair…”
But Sinead’s face had lit up.
“Flo!  Just think of it.  Bella’s got something there.”
“But he’ll be outed, won’t he?”
“No, he won’t.  That’s the beauty.  It can just be a gimmick – you know, like when boys dress up as girls at Halloween, or for one of those drag nights.  No pressure.  But Bella’s right – he’ll absolutely love it!”

And so it was agreed, and Bella was formally accepted into the project.  When Simon came out of the bathroom, in his short red skirt and tiny bikini top, which he was continually adjusting, she took him on her knee, and tickled his tummy till he wriggled and became almost hysterical, while she introduced him to the idea.
“It’ll be the neatest little maid’s uniform you’ve ever seen!  And Simon…all my friends are so pretty and nice, and they’ll all be dressed up in their very best party gear, with lots of makeup, and lovely dresses, and smooth, shiny stockings, and they’ll all want to pet you – I hope you won’t mind that – and for you I’ll make some special cakes, and there’ll be fizzy drinks, and crisps, and very expensive chocolates, and you can eat as much as you like!”
Her fingers traced little rings around his belly button, and she scratched his nipples with her nail through his top, making him shriek with laughter.  His skirt rode up, revealing his bikini bottoms.  Whether it was the present attentions of Bella, or the thought of the party, or both, his enthusiasm and excitement were obvious for all to see. 
“Careful, Bella,” said Florence, “if one of those ties comes undone…
Sinead leant over to Florence.
“I think tonight he’s going to be happy to see how you’ve decorated his little room, Flo.”
“Yes.  And I think he'd better have an early bedtime, don’t you?”

[Sandra B]

XV  Preparations

After Bella had retreated upstairs, Sinead, not convinced of her brother’s willingness to participate in the birthday party, sat him down and interrogated him.
“So Simmy, are you really going to go to Bella’s party. Or were you just being nice to her?”
“Are you serious, sis?  Do you know what her friends are like?”  He looked at her disbelievingly. 
“Well, no, I don’t know what they’re like.  I mean, you know them from school, I don’t.”  She sighed.  “So you’re not going, then.  And what if we insist?”
“No!”  He almost screamed it.  “Of course I’m going, idiot!  Bella and her friends….they’re like the hottest girls in the whole school.  And they're all about to leave!  We're really going to miss them.  My mates were always drooling over them.  Not me, but…  Anyway, yeah, so, like, I think I’ll probably go, to be polite, like…” he added, in a pathetic attempt to disguise his lecherous feelings. 
“Oh, I see.  Well, that’s nice.  You should take one of your drooling mates with you,” replied Sinead, sarcastically.  “I’m sure Jack would love to dress up as a maid.”
But the irony was lost on Simon.  “Yeah, maybe I could ask him…”
“I wasn’t serious, Sim!”
“He once said he would do anything to get in with that crowd…” he added, thoughtfully.
“He did?”  Sinead and Florence looked at each other with amusement. 
“Well, ask him then,” said Florence.  “Ring him now if you like.  I’m sure Bella would be delighted to have two little waitresses.”
“I’ll wait till tomorrow.  It’ll be easier face to face.”  He paused.  “Sis, I’m tired.  Can I go to bed now?”
“I’m not surprised.  Of course, if you want.”
“Where am I…?”
“See that door?” said Florence.  “There a special little room under the stairs.  It’s yours.  You can bolt the door, and the bed’s all set up.  There are some nice bunny pyjamas in the bedside cabinet if you want them.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine in my bikini,” he said, without embarrassment.
“Okay.  Go and brush your teeth first, darling.”
They waited for him to shut the bathroom door.
“This should be funny,” sniggered Sinead.
“Yeah.  And the magazines I didn’t use I left next to the bed.  Poor thing.”
“Give him what, ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes, then I’ll turn the light off.  He can lay there and just think about it, without being able to see a thing.”

When Simon returned from the bathroom, he said goodnight to them, and headed for the room.  He opened the door, and felt about for the switch.
“How do I turn the light on?”
“Oh, the switch is outside, darling,” said Florence. “We control the lights.  We don’t want you awake all night, reading or something.”
Simon shrugged and made a face.  “Okay.”
Florence flipped the switch and ushered him inside, shutting the door behind him.  As the door closed they heard a gasp.  There was a pause as he took it all in, then the key turned in the lock and all was silence.  The girls, suppressing their giggles, gave him his ten minutes.  Then Florence called out, “Time to settle down, Simmy.  Good night!”  And switched off the light from the outside.   They heard a stifled moan of disappointment, and then left him to his misery.

During the night, however, Sinead, half asleep, heard the cell door open slowly, saw the small frosted pane of glass light up, and heard it close gently.  “Oh, dear,” she thought, “He going to be wrecked in the morning...”

And so it proved.  They let him sleep in, and he eventually crawled out of bed at a quarter to ten, looking as though he had just emerged from a harem – which in a manner of speaking, he had.  After breakfast they said goodbye to Florence and headed back to aunt Rosie’s.  Simon prepared to go and meet Jack and William, as he usually did on Saturday morning, while Sinead headed off to the mall.  She wanted to see Alison, and ask her about maid’s outfits.  If anyone would know where to get them, she would.

Alison was in her usual place, refolding clothes and putting discarded garments back on the racks.
“Sinead!  Hi.  Where’s your kid sister today?”
“He’s out with the boys.  I came because I wanted some advice.”
“Go ahead.”
“What do you know about maids’ costumes?”
Alison laughed.  “What?  For Simon?  What a great idea….”
“I’d better explain…”
And she told Alison all about Bella, the party, and her offer.
“And he’s up for it?”
“Seems to be, yeah.  Apparently they’re the “hottest” girls in the school.  I think it’ll be a wild one.  As well as being Bella’s eighteenth, I guess it’s a leaving celebration.  I don’t think he understands quite what he’s letting himself in for…”
“Are you going?”
“I plan to if I can.”
“Take me too?  I think I can come up with an outfit.  I know a place where I can get anything made to measure.  Simon would have to come along, of course.”
“Great!  And get this.  He says he’s going to ask his friend to join him!”
“Oh my god…”
“I can’t believe Jack will agree.  But who knows?  They’re such lecherous little pigs.”
“When will you know?”
“Maybe even today.”
“Okay.  Ring me, won’t you?”
“As soon as I know.”
“By the way, has he worn those little hot pants yet?”
“Not yet.  There was so much else going on.”
“Pity.  I found a little top that would go perfectly.  And it’s totally appropriate.  I put it aside.”  She opened a drawer.  “Here.”
She handed Sinead a little girl’s short crop top, in yellow satin,  with a round neck, puff sleeves elasticated at the cuffs, and an elasticated hem.  Across the front, in pink script, were the words, “Kid Sister”.
“That would go well!  Same colour exactly…  And I love the inscription.”  She held it up.  “Maybe I could take him to Florence’s again tomorrow…”
“Your friend…”
“Yes.  She got the coolest room…a whole basement.  You wouldn’t believe it…”
“Sounds great.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing.  Shop’s closed.”
“Would you like to come?  We could dress Simon in his hot pants at last.”
“Could I?”
“Let me speak to Florence.  Let’s swap numbers.  I’ll call you later…”

[Sandra B]

XVI  Doubles

While this conversation was going on at the mall, Simon had made his way to Jack’s house.  Jack opened the door.
“Hi Sim.  What’s up?  You look wasted, man.”
“Oh, nothin’.  Bin busy.  Listen.  Is William here yet?”
“Not yet.  Always late.”
“I need to talk to you.  In private.”
“Okay…  Let’s go out to the shed.”
The shed was the boys’ centre of operations.  The lock had a rusty key by means of which all outsiders could be excluded.  Jack led the way, and locked the door behind them.
“So…”
“How would you like to go...to Bella’s eighteenth?”
“Bella…?”
“You know – Bella Seaman!”
Jack stared.  “What?”
“Would you want to go?” he repeated, impatiently.  “Her birthday party!  Her and all her friends!  No blokes, just all those big juicy girls!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Listen.  I’ve been invited.  And you could come to.”
“She’s invited you?  Why?”
“Look…  Never mind.  She wants someone to serve the drinks, that’s all.”
“Fuc-k, yes!  I’m in, dude!  I’ll wait on them anytime, no probs!  When is it?”
“Two weeks.  Just you and me.  I’m not asking William.  He can’t keep a secret.”
“You’re not wrong there.  We don’t need him, anyway.”
But look…  There’s one little catch…”
Jack’s face fell.  “What?  Tell me.”
“Well, cos there’s, like, no blokes allowed…see…we would have to…like…dress up as girls…”
Jack was unfazed.  “Dress up as girls?  What, like wear a skirt?  Is that all?”
“Well, we’re supposed to be waitresses, see?  I think we’d have to wear waitress costumes…”
“Oh…I get it…  That’s not a problem, Sim.  I can do that.  I wore that dress last Halloween, remember?  I’d dress up as a warthog if I had to, to get into that party.  How’d you swing it?”
“Oh, she used to babysit me when I was a kid.  Then the other day I sort of ran into her, and she goes, “Hi, Sim, how are you,” an’ she gives me a kiss, like…”
“Gives you a kiss?”
“Yeah.  An’ I says “fine”, like, and she goes, “how about comin’ to my birthday party…help out with the drinks…bring a friend if you like…meet all my friends…you’ll be the only blokes there…”  So I says, “okay, I’ll ask my best mate Jack to come an’ help too…””
“You’re a fuc-kin’ genius Sim!  Oh, shit, I can’t wait!  Like, those girls…I mean, they’re all fully developed now, aren’t they…  Wonder if that Deborah King’s gonna be there…I still have dreams about her tits…”