Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {All right, this one's not a Fantasy.  I suppose that's why I don't write
so much M2F, the same reason why munchkins play barbarians with 18
strength, instead of nerds with glasses and trouble talking to girls. 
Because that's too close to reality, Fantasy is about pretending to be
someone else, not what you are.

   Most authors write what they know, so this is what I can remember.  From
childhood, it was decades ago, so pretty fuzzy, and I'll have to rewrite a
lot of the dialog, but I'll just skip past Mavris playing with Barbies, GI
Joes, and spanking a tank.  Because I already did that (In \Parent
Directory/Becky) Moving on from there, if anything sounds familiar, then
you know where it comes from now.

   Daniel

   I missed it, again.  But, after the movie I went out to play with my
brother, and he told me about the Nazis.  "It was so cool, they melted like
wax!"

   When they opened the Ark of the Covenant, I couldn't watch.  I heard it,
but then he said "Shut your eyes, don't look.  Whatever happens, don't look
at it, Marion."

   "Indy!" He picked up a piece of rope, and pulled it out of the grass. 
"Whk!" It didn't crack, but we knew how to do it, with a rat tail.  That's
what the Mexicans called it, when they rolled up a bandana, and snapped it
like a whip, only we didn't have no bandana, nor a rubber band to wrap
around the middle.  He had a rope, I wanted to play Marion.

   "You can't be Marion," he giggled, "Silly!"

   "Why not?"

   "She's a girl."

   "So?" He just kept swinging the rope around, and trying to make it
crack. "She's awesome!  She drank that guy under the table, and fought
Nazis with Indy, and.  And." I thought, "She was his partner.  Gillie's not
here, so somebody's got to play Marion."

   "Why don't you play the Nazi instead?"

   "Oh, no." Besides, he's creepy.  "You ain't hitting me with that." I
pointed at the rope, "Besides, why don't you pretend the tree is a Nazi?"

   "Okay." So, he beat on the tree, and pointed at it.  "Pow, pow!" Shot at
it, like Indy did that Arab with the big scimitar, so he fell down, and
stopped swinging it around.

   I got a knife, from the kitchen.  Like Marion, when Belloq made her put
on the beautiful white dress.  She even shrugged, and said "It's
beautiful." With her mouth full, and went and put on the dress, but then
she got him drunk, and pulled out the knife, and backed up.  "Wehelhell, I
got to be going..."

   Until the creepy Nazi caught her, coming in the tent, and made her drop
it.  So, we took turns playing the Nazi, but I got to play Marion, that's
all that matters.  She's my hero, I want to be just like her, when I grow
up.

   Gillie's our sister.  She's like 2 years older then me and 3 years older
then Timmy, so she's bigger.  She got her own room, then mom got pregnent,
and Gillie got her period.  So, mom got out this book "Our Bodies,
Ourselves," and I read it after her.  I guess that was my sex education,
before we moved to Austin, and I got it in school.

   So anyway, we played doctor.  Back in Corpus, there was this big tree in
the empty lot next door, and we climbed up there to have "Shit outs" up
there with the lack kids.  They lived in the other house, in front of us,
like next door, only their house was on the street, and our driveway went
beside it, back to our house.

   The thing is they had 3 kids, just like us only 2 girls and a boy,
instead of 2 boys and a girl.  So, we climbed up in the big tree, and told
dirty jokes, and that's what we called "Shit out." It was just some
childish thing, you know.  Saying shit, up there, where our parents
couldn't hear us.

   Then we caught Gillien with the boy.  Under the house, it was like on
stilts, so you could crawl under there in the sand, but she was on top of
him, and they had their pants off, so you could see there privates
together.

   "Ooh!" I pointed, and Tim laughed.  They came out, and Gillie told me
what they're doing.  I knew, because I read about it in Our Bodies
Ourselves.  Not like I never saw her naked before, mom and dad sat around
naked all the time, especially in summer, cause we didn't have air
condition, but they weren't really doing it.

   He run home anyway, but they was just paying.  Rubbing together, but he
didn't stick it in.  So, after that, me and Tim started messing around with
his sisters.  The black girls, there was 2 of them, and 2 of us, and Gillie
was fooling around with there brother.

   Under the palm bush.  I guess, it was like a palm tree, in the corner of
the lot, only a little one.  Like a bush, so the branches hung down to the
sand, and it was like a tent, or a big green dome under there.  But it was
private, so we could get under there, and fuck around.  We didn't really
have sex, but Tim liked to pretend to.  Rub there privates together, but I
go my first real good look between their legs, and I felt weird about it.

   My thing, I guess that should have been my first clue.  I was always
different.  Not like the other boys, or Tim.  I hung out with him, and we
played a lot together, because he was my brother, and even though I was
older, I guess I played along with whatever he wanted to.  Like Army Men,
then GI Joes when we moved to Austin, and our little sister was born.

   Carolann, mom swears she wasn't named after the girl from Poltergeist,
but me and Tim got our names out of the bible, and Gillien was one of Jubal
Harshaw's assistants in "Stranger in a Strange Land."

   When really, I wanted to play with my sisters.  Dolls, and tea parties,
I played dolls with Tim, sometimes, but he called them "Action Figures."
Okay, they're dolls.  Even if it's He-Man, or Roadblock, you know what? 
There still dolls, just like Barbie, but boy dolls.  I never understood
that, but I wanted to play girl dolls, just as much as boy dolls, and it
wasn't until Carolann I really got to.

   Mom made her a doll, Loissa.  I wanted one too, time got a Snake called
Monty.  (Python.  He loved cheese) and Gillie had a Raggedy Ann.  So, mom
made me a fool.  Punchenello, he had a hat like half a moon, so it curved
over his head, and I played with Carolanne, and him, and Loissa.  Gille was
supposed to watch her, while mom was at work.  We were poor, ever since we
moved here from Virginia, and we even camped out on Padre Island a couple
months before dad got that house.

   In Corpus Christy, but then he got a job in Austin, so we moved up
there. To Congress Park Apartments, which is a ghetto, by the way, and we
had lots of black and Mexican neighbors there too.  Which is fine, I ain't
racist, I never was, my brother went through a phase, and got me beat up a
few times saying the wrong things to the wrong people, but Gillie kind of
left us alone, and Tim went out to play with his white friends from the
neighborhood.

   It wasn't all black, and Mexican, we're white, and there was other white
families there.  The ones in front of us in the same building smoked pot,
we could smell it, but they're white.  So anyway, the buildings were like 2
stories, with 4 Apartments.  Upstairs and down, the exact same only
switched around, so there was 1 on each corner.  And 4 Patios, and upstairs
bedrooms, but we just had 2.  Mom and Dads, and the kids' room.

   So, mom had to work until dad got a job at Texas Instruments.  Anyway, I
got to babysit, and play dolls, and change Carolanne's diaper, like the
babydoll, only she peed, and pooped for real.  Because my sister couldn't
be bothered, and watched MTv, or whatever.  I went out and played sometimes
too, but the apartments had air condition, and it was hot, in the summer
anyway.  I played mom, I even stole some clothes from my sister to dress
up, and made a wig, and everything.

   Stuffed the dress, I wish I had a nice white dress, like Marion in
Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Gillie didn't have any bras yet, but I fit in
this one she saved as handmedowns, for when Carolanne grew bigger.  Only
she didn't being 12 years younger, by the time that happened, we moved a
bunch of times, and those were all gone, but I got to wear one for a while.

   My favorite, it was green, and stretchy in the top so it pulled tight
around my hips with elastic bands, and gathers around the middle.  And
spaghetti straps, to hold it up, so I could stuff more clothes in the
middle, and pretend to be pregnant.  No boobs, because it was a girl's
dress, it didn't have boobs, and I didn't really care about that, but I
even got up with the babydoll between my legs.  Under the skirt, so you
couldn't see it, then squat down, and rop it on the bed.

   I pretended to have a baby.  That's how, because mom did, and then I
pulled the towel out of the top so I wasn't fat no more.

   It was the 70s, maybe the early 80s.  I heard the word Faggot, from my
brother's asshole friends, I had some idea what that ment, and it was
wrong, but as far as I could tell, my crossdressing was gay, because people
didn't talk about it.  They laughed about it, joked about fags farting in
the shower, so his boyfriend thought he got off without him, but also beat
the crap out of you if they thought you're gay.

   I thought I was gay, because that's what I heard.  About drag queens,
faggots that dress up like girls, nothing else was really even on the radar
until we moved out.  Before that, I had my first sexual experience with a
boy.  I don't know if he was, gay or not, but there was this fort.  Again,
over the fence this time, but undeveloped woods right off our back porch.
You could see them from the patio door, or upstairs from our room, but this
was a dugout.

   It was summer, so it didn't rain long enough to dig a hole, put some
plywood over it, and there was a bunch of carpet in there for a lining. 
Everyone played in it, until it rained again and flooded, but that
undeveloped land was like a swamp most of the year anyway.  I don't
remember his name, either.  I barely remember any of this, much less the
girls we fucked around with in Corpus, nor their brother.  I just remember
going down there together, alone, and fucking around.

   I remember his dick, it was little, and soft at first, but I wiggled it
in my mouth like a worm until it got hard.  He didn't get off, or if he did
he was still shooting blanks, didn't have any hair on it, but I did.  A
little, I didn't even get mine out.  Kept my pants on, and pulled his down,
to suck his dick, and squeeze his butt.  Just that one time, I don't
remember how I talked him into it either, but I have to admit I was already
a child molester.

   I did it to my sister.  Yeah, I know, I want to make excuses about being
curious about gender, and sexually confused, but I knew it was wrong, and I
did it anyway.  As much because she was my sister as because she was barely
out of diapers, but I vaguely remember her potty training.  Well, I really
remember her diapers, because she had cloth ones, and we had to wash them
out in the toilet.  When she took a dump, so no diaper fetish, scat, or
even piss eroticism there.  It was gross, I gagged, then threw them in the
hamper when the baby cake washed out.

   But then she started pottying, I showed her how to wipe, and then I
started touching her.  And licking her, and making her suck my dick, and
all kinds of other stuff I'm ashamed to admit, but I'm being truthful here.
I molested my little sister, throughout childhood, and there's no excuse
for that.  I also played doctor with Gillien once, all the way back in
Virginia, but that was different.  Just once, in a sheet tent, and Tim
played with us too, but that was just anatomical curiosity.

   It wasn't sexual, I could tell, now that I tried molesting a boy, and
started molesting my baby sister, so in case you're wondering, now you
know. How I know so much about molesting toddlers, because I did it.  Let
me tell you from experience, it's wrong, and there's no excuse for that.

   And knowing is half the battle!

   Moving on...

   It wasn't until we got to the new house that I started looking at porn,
and reading about Incest.  I'd already done it, but before that I don't
remember dad having any books, or magazines about it.  Maybe he did, and we
just didn't find it yet, but before that it was Underwear ads, and
Victoria's Secret Catalogs.  I have to say, it runs in our family, though.

   Once Gillie started growing up, noticably, her step-father started to
notice.  Comment on it, get catalogs with sexy underwear in it, and buy
incest themed pornography to leave lying around for her to find.  Mom was
pregnant, when they got married.  Technically, Gillien was our half-sister,
and our dad's step-daughter.  Again, I knew fuck-all about covert incest,
even as I started to witness it second hand, but in retrospect, I gradually
became aware of it, and honestly got even more jealous of her.

   She got all the nice toys, and then the nice clothes, and even the
sexual attention from dad.  Which I did not want, he was just as fat, and
lazy as mom, honestly disgusting, and we couldn't bring any friends over
for fear of them being beached on the couch naked half the time.  We grew
up with nudity, not really nudist, but dad drove the truck way down Padre
Island so we could run around and play in the wter naked.  Lets just say we
didn't have any tan-lines.

   Gillie got a lot more modest all of a sudden.  Not to say I cared about
seing her naked, I had, my whole life, but really I wished I could see my
body like that.  Grow like that, in the mirror, or looking down at my flat
chest, and seeing what stuck out the front.  I had a penis, not a pussy,
and it don't feel right.  It never felt right, and the first inkling of
what was wrong came when dad got HBO.  I finally got to see Frank Herbert's
Dune, which was the trailer on right before Raiders, that summer where we
watched it at the dollar theater in Corpus every weekend.

   The Bene Gessurit are badass, mom read us Herbert, and Heinlein as
bedtime stories, so it wasn't that.  I was moving up to Jack Chalker, and
Larry Niven, but it wasn't that, either.  The movie I watched, every chance
I could get was Victor/Victoria.  In that, they sang about "Gay Paris," so
I still thought it was a gay thing, but they had "Female Impersonators."
Drag queens, and Julie Andrews pretending to be a man pretending to be a
woman.  So, that was great, at least I knew that somewhere, at some time,
there was a whole culture of men that dressed up as women, even as my voice
was changing, and I got shoulders instead of hips.

   Now, Austin is in Texas, but a different state of mind.  [Keep Austin
Weird!] So, it was progressive for Texas, but still smack dab in the middle
of Texas.  The very buckle of the bible belt, so while there were fairly
progressive attitudes, at the time, it was still the early 80s in the
capital of the State of Denial.  We moved to California, then to North
Carolina, and you may think you've been exposed to homophobia, but you have
not.  The "Bathroom Bill," is the tip of the iceberg, but you've heard of
that, now.

   Let me skip ahead a bit, because honestly, you have no idea.  I moved
there (Raleigh) from California.  Northern California, Milpidas.  Across
the street from San Jose, right down the Bay from San Franfuckicisco.  I
went through puberty, the wrong puberty in the capital of the state that is
right now at the front lines of the fight to ex-post-facto make it illegal
to recognize the EXISTENCE of transgender.  That's what HB2 is, not a
"Bathroom Bill," but a response to an attempted bathroom bill.

   Here's what really happened: My friends, the sexual underground of
Raleigh tried to pass a bill, giving people like me a pot to piss in.  The
state Legislature turned around, and crushed it, making it officially
illegal to write such a law, or attempt to write any law, concerning
transgender rights.  Incidentally, they also used us for a terror attack on
women in a safe place.  That's what all that was.  The official party line
is "If they try to get rights, we will rape, our women in their public
restrooms in protest." Straight men, christians, don't want me to take a
piss sitting down bad enough to threaten rape in drag to stop me.

   Why?  Because I grew up transgender in Raleigh.  With no false modesty,
the guys that wrote that law?  I went to school with their kids.  I
terrorized them, fighting back against transphobia.  They used to chase me
on my bike, in pickup trucks, and tried to run me down.  In Garner, they
called me "Gayta Face" and vandalized the house I lived in.  Got their
little brothers to say I tried to molest them, I went to jail.

   Men's jail.  To get gang raped, because they wouldn't aknowledge me as a
woman.

   I didn't, incidentally.  I didn't even try to molest those boys.  I
wasn't interested, I didn't even know them, because honestly I had a 5yo at
home to play with.  I am a pedophile, there I said it.  That doesn't mean I
randomly try to grope boys while they try to ride by me on bikes.  I had
someone, to molest.  So, I didn't have to look at anyone else.  That's not
an excuse, that's the truth.  Being transgender doesn't make me a child
molester, and even being a child molester didn't make me into some sex
crazed lunatic that couldn't help trying to grope boys en passant when I
already had a lover at home.

   They didn't know that, any of that, because they didn't bother to find
out.  That, my friends is Homophobia.  What it's all about, Fear, and
reacting with Terror.  They don't want to know, much less understand, so
they make up myths.  About gays molesting boys, when that's not homosexual.
About transwomen crossdressing to peep on girls in the bathroom, when that
would be a Transvestite.  Not the same thing, not even close.

   I know, sexy right?

   Well, this isn't even erotic.  It's not supposed to be, it's the truth.
I just had to get all that off my chest, so I can go back to titillating
you with perverted strokers.  I write for me, but this is for you.  All of
you:
Don't believe what you hear from people who don't even try to
understand. All Pat Robertson knows about homosexuality is his recurring
fantasies about sins.  I'm convinced he's a closet homosexual, even to
himself.  That's why he's terrified of it, and why he refuses to learn any

of the reality of it.  Because that would be gay.

   Unless you are gay, don't worry about anything making you gay.  You want
to know about lesbians?  Ask a real lesbian, (One of the ones I know has
recurring fantasies of toddlers being drowned in dog piss by their mothers)
not some guy who jerks off to porn men make for him.  You want to know
about child molesters?  Incest?  Transphobia?

   Well, tuck it back in your shorts, and pull up a chair.  Because I
actually know a thing or two about that.
:
{Now, I know that was a little long winded for an intro, but now I can
get on with the Fantasy.  NS, but incidentally, this is a recurring
fantasy, I had at that age.  Not from playing dressup with my sister, and
her friends, but wishing I could.  I didn't really have friends growing up.
Not girls, so I played with dolls instead.  This Daniel is luckier than I

ever was.  Like I always wished I was.}

   ;

   Danielle (t Solo CD)

   I'm not supposed to look at them, I knew that.  Girl's undies, but there
so pretty.  I'm a little jealous of Jill, my sister, she always gets such
nice things.  While she's away with her friends, I got in her room, and put
them on.  The new ones, there even nicer, and they feel nice.  Not soft,
but light, and silky, with a pretty bow in front.  At the top, where the
ribbon comes together, but it's not tied.  It's sewed, and I just remember
when we used to play together.

   With her friends, they'd come over, and we'd get out the makeup.  They
let me dress up, too, and made me over, with the wig from Haloween, because
my hair was short, and I looked so pretty.  Then, her friend went home, and
it was just us.  We played dolls, and had tea parties, I tried playing tea
with just the dolls, but it's not the same without her.  I love her, my
sister Jill, but she's out with her friends, and I'm all alone, but what's
this?

   She's got new things, in her underwear.  It's white, soft cotton, but I
never seen them before.  So, it must be underwear, but it fits me.  Kind of
loose, after I got my arms through, and pull it down, but now it hangs on
my chest.  So, I stuffed some things in there, some of the silky undies, so
I can feel them on my chest, and she's getting boobs.

   So, I guess that's what it's for, her boobs, and it looks like I got
boobs, but I'm still ugly.  Even with the Cinderella wig, so I look blond,
and brush it out on the bottom.  Where it's gathered on the back, but
there's no bangs, just a big blue bow in the back, and a bump up front, so
I cut it.  Carefully so it looks like I got bangs, and they cover my eyes,
but I put on some lipstick, and blow kisses in the mirror.

   It's not fair, she's only 11, and I'm 13, but she gets all the makeup,
and pretty clothes, and gets to go as Cinderella for Haloween, but I just
get stupid guns, and ugly pants, and underwear with a pocket up front.  I
hate it, but now I'm pretty.  So, I carefully put on the dress, the best
dress, it's yellow, and matches my hair, and makes the blue bow look even
brighter, and my pretty lips really stand out so I blush, and I remember.

   "Oh yeah!" the blush.  So, I brush on some big round circles, and blend
them on my cheeks, and blow more kisses with my big pretty pink shiny lips,
and I look beautiful.

   I know I'm really not supposed to go out like this, but what good is
looking so pretty if nobody sees it?  Jill sure looks pretty, I can tell by
the way the boys look at her, and even full grown men.  "Huh!" There's one,
I smile, and flutter my eyelashes.  He tries to talk to me, but I don't. 
Want to, really.  My voice cracks, when I try to.  Talk like a girl, so I
turned away, and ran down the steps.  Barefoot, so I didn't even have a
slipper to leave behind, even though there not glass.  There plastic, and
they have heels, and they don't fit.

   I'm not really Cinderella, I'm not that pretty, and her shoes hurt my
feet, but I'm learning.  To walk in them, with lots of socks so they don't
slip around, and hurt my feet, but I still keep falling off the heels, but
I just went out, barefoot.  It's such a nice day, sunny to match my
sundress, but there's a little breese, sometimes.  It doesn't blow all the
time, but sometimes, it blows up under the dress, and it's cool, which
makes it flutter, and my hair blowing around on my shoulders, and my bangs
swing in front of my eyes.

   I love that, to remind me of how beautiful I am, with my long blond
hair, and the pretty bow flapping in the breese, and bright red cheeks, and
lips, even without a mirror.  I just need some friends, some real friends,
like Jill to play dolls with, and talk about how pretty they are.  So, they
can tell me how pretty I am, and my heart swells just thinking about it. 
"Huh!"

   But I don't.  I just sit down in the grass.  At the park, and smooth the
dress over my knees.  Enjoy the nice day, it's pretty, and I feel prettier
just sitting in the sun, so my hair shines golden in the light, I just wish
I had a mirror to see it.  Or some friends to enjoy it with, but I'm still
alone.

   "Oh, well." Better to be alone, and beautiful, then ugly with stupid
boys.  "Huh!" I hate boys, there stupid and ugly, I just wish I had some
real friends.

   ;

   Laura

   "Hihihn!" She looked like, a picture out of a storybook, so I went to
see her.  Just sitting out in the field, plastic wig blowing in the breeze,
all made up.  "Hey."

   She jumped, and turned around.  Her legs turned over in the sundress,
and she looked up.  Squinting through the bangs, so I moved over.  So she
could see in the shadow.

   "Oh," she put her hand down, "Hey, Laura."

   I shook my head, "How do you know my name?"

   "Oh, my cousin, Jill?" She nodded.  I squinted a little, and I guess I
could see the family resemblance.  That's why she looked a little familiar,
so I sat down with her in the grass.

   "She talked about me?"

   She shrugged, "She just said your name.  I saw you, and I asked her
who's that, and she said, 'oh.  That's Laura'."

   I nodded.

   "You're really very pretty."

   "You wear makeup?"

   "Sometimes, I like to, but my folks.  You know, because I'm a.  Well,
they say I am.  A little too young."

   "What's with the wig?"

   "Oh this?" She felt the bangs.  "Uhm, my sister.  She cut it, she's my
little sister, and you know.  She got ahold of the scissors, and messed it
up.  Bad, but Jill had this old wig, from her Halloween costume.  And it
matches the dress."

   "She let you borrow it?" It's one of her favorites.

   "Yeah, since we're the same size, we both decided to share.  You know, I
think she's getting tired of this old thing, anyway.  And it's too tight on
her." She squirmed, and pulled it out, over her chest.

   "Hihin!  What do you have in there?"

   "Oh, I padded it, since I don't really have boobs yet."

   "Me neither," I looked down.  "Huh!" Sighed, at my flat chest.

   "You think I'm pretty too?" She raised her chin, puckered her lips a
little, and her eyes blinked quickly under the bangs.

   "Honestly?  I can't tell, under all that." I try to be polite, but she
looks weird.  With all that, getup.  I guess she's jealous of Jill, being
older, and bigger, and more.  Grown up, she's not grown up, but she started
to, so I guess I can understand that.  She wear training bras, and "Is that
her training bra?" I noticed the strap, under another strap, for the
sundress.

   "Uh huh?" She slipped it back under, "To hold the boobs."

   I giggled, "You don't got boobs."

   "Well, no." She shifted them again.  "But I can pretend."

   Good idea, really.  "Um," I hadn't thought of stuffing my tops like
that. "Well, you know my name, so it's only fair if you told me yours."

   "Oh," she looked down, "Sorry." Held out her hand, "I'm Danielle."

   I looked, blinked, and looked again.  "Danny?" Now, I recognised him.

   His head fell, "Huh!" He shrugged a little, but he looked like he was
going to cry?  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lie.  To you, I just.  Snh?" He
was crying, at least he didn't have any maskara on, or anything on his
eyes. "Huh!  I just wanted to be pretty.  Again." But the tears rolled down
his cheeks, and got stuck on his blush.  "Ngh!"

   "Well, I'm sorry."

   "What for?"

   "For making you cry?" I don't even know why, he started crying all of a
sudden, but it made me feel bad.  All I did was say his name, well not his
real name, but Jill.  She's not his cousin, she's his sister, and now I
remember playing with them.  It had been a couple years, "I know Jill has
been pretty mean, lately." I guessed, maybe that's why he started crying?

   "Is that why you stopped, coming over to play?"

   "No." I looked away.

   "Why then?"

   "You want to go play?"

   "Uh huh?"

   "Come on," I helped him up, "Why don't we go play, at my house?"

   "Snh, you mean it?"

   "Yeah, cummon." So, I took him home.  "You know, you are, pretty.  For a
boy I mean.  I always thought so.  You just put on too much.  Blush
especially, and it clashes with all the yellow." Especially out in the sun,
where it looks super bright, "Tha's what was bothering me." Now that I
realize what I'm looking at.  "I always thought your sister made you,
dressup.  I didn't know you liked it."

   "Oh yeah!  It's my favorite.  I mean." He thought, "Huh!  Not so much
the dressing up part, but you know." I shook my head, "Being pretty?"

   "Well, I'm not supposed to bring boys over, so try not to say nothing."
His voice bothered me, too.  Now that I think about it, he sounds like a
boy, and that bothered me, when I thought he was a girl.  Now that I
recognised him, it was like old times again.  It was fun, really.

   ;

   Danielle

   "You know, yellow's not really your color?" Back in her room, I shook my
head, and pulled off my wig.  Just held it a while, and looked down.  But,
she dug around in her dresser, and got out a bunch of stuff.  She turned
back, "lets see." Held up a blue top, "No," then a green one, "Nope, uhm."
She turned back, stuffed them back in the drawers, and pulled out some
more.

   So, I pulled off the dress.  She turned back, and stopped.  Looked down,
so my ears burned, and I covered myself.  In front, "Hihihm!  You even wore
the underwear?"

   I nodded, but she turned her head.  Sideways, and dropped the top.  She
went back to the dresser, but now she was blushing, and bit her lip.  "Mh,"
pulled out another, "Lets try red." She handed me a dress to match, but
didn't look.  Good, but I saw her, the way she looked.  In the mirror, down
at the drawers, but her reflection in the mirror.

   "How's it look?" I twirled, and tried to make it fit in the top, but the
undies in the training bra made it too tight.  So, I reached in the arms,
and pulled them out.

   "Better," but she looked at the underpants in my hands.  Covered her
mouth, and took a pair.  "Where did you get these?"

   "Jill?"

   "She let you." She shook her head, "Wait, where did She get these?" She
held them up.

   "I dunno."

   "They're really racey."

   "What's that mean?" I can't imagine running a race in them, or any
panties, really.

   "Well, you know," She held them up, "They're shear?  See through, look."
I nodded.  "Huh, my parents would never let me wear anything like this!"

   "Oh, well." I turned around, "I won't look, if you want to try them on."

   I just listened, to her giggle until I heard her stop, or her slip stop
rustling under her skirt, but then I looked back.

   Of course, I couldn't see them.  Under the skirt, and slip, but she was
grinning.  Ear to ear, and blushing.

   "How do they feel."

   "Uhm, Danny?"

   "Danielle."

   "Sorry, Danielle.  Um," she bit her lip, "You don't feel, sexy in girl's
underwear.  Do you?"

   "I don't know.  What's sexy feel like?"

   "You know, you get so hot, and." She turned away, or her head, to look
away so he glanced at the mirror.  "Does it make you, get hard?"

   "Oh no.  I hate that."

   "What?"

   "You know, my.  Junk?  I hate them, and whenever it sticks up, I just
wish it away."

   "You don't play with yourself?"

   "God no!"

   "Why not?"

   "Because," I just said, "Uh!  I hate it!"

   "Why?"

   "Because, I don't know.  There boy stuff, like guns, and I hate boy
stuff."

   "But, you're a boy."

   "So?  I don't wanna be.  I never wanted to be, a boy.  I wish I was a
girl.  I always did."

   "Ihihn!  Really?  That's weird."

   "Well, it's true.  I hate boys, there all so ugly, and stupid, and never
want to be pretty."

   "So you want to be pretty?"

   "Yeah."

   "Well, red is really your color, so.  Let me see, what else can we do,
to make you pretty?"

   "Okay!" I nodded.

   "Um," she bit her lip.  "Huh!  You know, it.  Really grew.  A lot."

   "What?"

   "You know, your." She covered her mouth.  "Penis?"

   "Yeah." I hate it.

   ;

   Laura

   "Huh!" I guess, I can understand.

   He said, "It feels gross."

   "Yeah," I set down the eyeliner.  "I know what that's like."

   "Yeah?  When you got your period?"

   "Oh, I didn't." I shook my head.

   "Well, Jill said that felt gross.  When it happened."

   "Yeah, it was something else.  Um.  Your dad, he doesn't.  Touch her,
does he?"

   "Yeah?  He's our dad."

   "I mean.  Huh!  Well?" I better just say it, "You know, when I used to
hang out over there.  With you and your sister, and we played dressup?"

   "How do I look?" He sat down, and made that face again.

   "Better," I nodded, "But, you know when you asked why I stopped going
over there?"

   "Did dad touch you?"

   "No, I mean.  Yeah, he just patted my back, but that's not what made me
feel gross.  He, looked at me."

   "Okay?  Well, huh!  He's just flirty, like that."

   "Huh!  Yeah, but.  On the toilet?"

   He covered his mouth, "Hihm!  He didn't walk in on you."

   "He did.  He said it was an accident, but.  Huh!  Then, he told me, how
pretty I looked.  He said so much prettier then the other girls, and.  He
wanted me, to, go over there.  Where he was sitting, and, he said let me
get a look at you, but I didn't."

   "Yeah, uhm.  Because, it didn't make you feel pretty?" I shook my head.

   "At all."

   "It made you feel gross?"

   "Yeah, so I left, and I never went back.  So then, Jill came over, to
get her clothes, and when I told her, she got all jealous."

   "Of dad?"

   "Yeah, and she called me all kinds of mean things, and pulled my hair,
and yelled at me, and took her stuff, and stormed out."

   "Oh!" He just held me.  "Huh, I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry."

   "Well?  Snh!  It's not your fault." He didn't do it.

   "Well, I'm still sorry.  He did that to you.  I didn't know, he was like
that.  Huh!  I guess, I should've, but.  I didn't, and maybe had I have
known, maybe I could have done something.  To stop it, or at least warned
you."

   "Thanks."

   "For what?  I didn't, and I'm sorry."

   "I know, but thanks anyway.  For caring, and making me feel better."

   "It's okay.  i What else are friends for?"

   "Yeah." I got up, wiped my eyes.  "So, uh.  Let's try a little green. 
To set off the red.  Red goes with green, so."

   "Like Christmas."

   "Yeah, like Christmas, but." I blinked, "You know, your eyes aren't
really blue?"

   "Yeah, there grey."

   "Huh!" I never noticed.  "Well, you've got really pretty eyes."

   "Yeah?"

   "Yeah, they're really the best part." I turned away.  Blushing, "So, why
don't we see what we can do, to set them off?"

   "Okay."

   I grabbed the green top again.

   "I thought Green didn't work on me?"

   "Oh no.  Not when you're wearing all that yellow, look." I held it up,
"It didn't clash with you, youra red, but it clashed with the blond, and
the blue bow."

   "But I thought yellow, and blue made green?" He held it up, over the
training bra again.

   "Exactly, complimentary colors aren't close, on the color wheel.  Like
blue, and gold, or red and green."

   So, he tried it on, and looked in the mirror again.

   "See?"

   Twisting back, and forth, he made that model pout again.  "Yeah!"

   I giggled, and bit my lip again.

   "What?" He looked back at me.  In the mirror.

   "You do look pretty!" I giggled.

   "Yeah!" He just smiled at her.  In the mirror, I could see it now, and,
she even looked like a girl.  With short hair.

   "Uhm," I thought, "You like metal?"

   "Metal music?" She turned around.  I really, think it's better, to call
her she now.  It just felt weird, even thinking of him as a boy, with her
all dolled up like that.

   "Yeah, I was thinking.  You know, how metalheads all have long hair?"

   "Huh!" he pulled at it, and nodded.  "Yeah!"

   "So, maybe if you started listening to metal, you could grow your hair
out, and no one would be the wiser."

   "Yeah, I'll try that."

   So, he went home, and I.  You know, when he asked me what it felt like?
Well, for one thing, those underpants didn't just look racey.  When I put
them on, yeah he was real polite, and looked away, but I could even feel
the threads.  So, I guess I just told him how I was feeling, for the first
time.  Wearing sexy underwear, and seeing him.

   "Hihn!" Like this.  They were kind of loose, hanging under my slip, but
then he left, and I took them off.  My skirt, and slip, and everything.  I
pulled them up, in the mirror, and I could see my privates.  Right through
them, and even the threads on my bottom.

   So, I got up on the bed, so I could see better, but I remembered his
underwear.  Before, when we dressed up, I saw him in just his briefs, and
though I didn't really look, of course I saw that there was something in
there, but they were lose, and white, and not see through like this, but.

   I never played with myself before, so I did't know what to do, but I
felt the threads with my fingers, and they even rolled up and down between
my legs.  I couldn't really see anything, except the bright orange around
my hips, and my hand, so I closed my eyes.

   His panties, though.  They were red, bright red, and I must say he
really grew since I saw him in the briefs.  I mean, he's not a little boy
any more, and he sure isn't a real girl, but they were a lot tighter, and
finer, and even a little shiney.  With a ribbon through the elastic waist,
going in and out like a stitch with a tiny pink bow in the front, and they
looked real silky.

   "Hhn!" I layed down, with my feet up, which just made the threads rub my
butt into the sheets, especially when I rolled them back and forth over my
crotch.  Imagining, touching him.  "Hihihm!" It was so dirty, just thinking
about touching a boy, in panties.

   But you know, it's supposed to get hard.  So they say, a "Stiffie, nh.
Yeah!" It didn't, they just kind of hung in there, like a pouch, and
bulged, and then he put some clothes on over it, but I got a good look, and
just imagine it getting hard, in my hand, and sticking up like his dad's in
his pants.

   "Huh!" Crap.  Why did I have to go, and think about that?

   Well, he is his dad, and he did see me, half naked.  Pulling up my
pants, and tried to molest me when I flushed, and came back out.

   But he's not like that.  He doesn't make me feel afraid, and disgusting,
and ugly, and horrible and all these bad feelings at once, but I don't feel
sexy no more.

   He is, sexy.  I think, "No," he is.  Trying to cover it up, not because
he got a stiffy, but he's ashamed of it.  "My junk," he calls it, and he
hates them.

   I don't, but maybe I can see them.  Next time, even if he can't get it
up, I don't care.  "Yeah," I just have to get him to change his underwear.
"Yeah!" Maybe put these on, I think he forgot them.  He took the rest, but
he didn't make me take them off, and maybe.  Just maybe he'll want to try
them on, when he comes back.

   I hope he comes back.

   ;

   Daniel/le (tM Mole NS)

   "Hey, little girl."

   That man, the one that always looks at me.  Whenever I go out, all
dressed up, and madeup.  I know, what it means when a man looks at me like
that.  I have eperience from my father, even though he never looks at me
like that, because he thinks I'm a boy, and I never dress up around him.

   "Come here, let me get a look at you."

   He knows my dad, and I remember Laura, telling me.  My dad said that, or
something like that, when she came over to hang out with my sister, Jill.

   "You think I'm pretty?" I sat down.  He's not fat, like dad.  I smoothed
the ruffles of my dress over my legs, and even felt a few pricks.  From
shaving, I started to shave, because my leg hairs got thicker, and darker,
and started looking ugly.  My voice didn't crack this time, like I was
scared it would, but I'm learning to talk, like a girl.

   "Of course you are," he hugged my shoulders, "So pretty, even without
the makeup.  Your folks let you wear makeup, Jill?"

   I giggled, he thinks I'm my sister.

   "I just took it, from my mom." I looked down, blushing.  "I'm not
supposed to, go in her things."

   I know how this goes, I even read about it.  What he is, who he is too,
but.  You know, from the stories, in the magazines?

   "Yeah?" he squeezed my shoulders, "Well, your secrets safe with me."

   That's how it starts, get them to do something bad, or let them get away
with cussing.  Or smoking, playing hookey, it doesn't really matter.  See,
I can keep a secret, can you?  Keep a secret, of course I won't tel your
mom about you getting in her makeup.  Just like you won't tell anyone about
the way I touch you.  Show you my penis, and make you take off your
clothes...

   I giggled a little.

   "Snh, you smell pretty too." I didn't wear any makeup, but I did take a
pritz of her perfume.  I'm starting to sweat, a lot more, and it stinks. 
"Snhhhh!" He smells my hair.

   "It's hot out here," I squirmed against him.

   "Well, you want to go inside, where it's cooler?  I have air condition."

   "Okay," he let me up, "Sure."

   Held the screen door, "Ladies first," and closed the door behind me.  I
seen him, naked.  In the window, he walks around naked, and stands in the
window.  Looking out, at the playground.  I seen him hard, jacking off,
because he's my neighbor.  You can't see from the ground, but from my
parents bedroom.  Same window, across from him, he didn't see me looking I
guess.  So intent on the playground, the gilrs playing, or maybe the boys
too.  I don't know, one way to find out.

   "You thirsty?" I shrugged.  Didn't say anything, "Yeah, I think I'll
have a beer, you want one?"

   I sook my head, I'm almost 14, but.  He doesn't just want to let me
drink, our little secret.  He wants to get me drunk, to molest me.

   I sat down, crossed my leg on the couch.  He's not like dad at all. 
He's skinny, and hairy, I'd seen it.  "Huh!"

   He popped the can, and brought it back.  Took a sip, and offered it to
me again.  "You sure you wouldn't like to try it?"

   I shook my head again, but he sat down, put his arm around me again. 
Hishand in my lap.  "Such a pretty dress." He felt the green fabric, on my
legs, and I started feeling it.  Swelling, so I cqueezed my legs tighter.

   "It's okay, relax." He smelled like beer, and felt my leg some more. 
Pulled it off the other one, but my panties were tight enough.

   "Huh!" Laura gave me them, she wasn't wearing them no more, since they
got too tight, on her hips, but he let go of my shoulder, and felt down my
chest.  I closed my eyes, and winced a little.  It's not that, it's just,
my shoulders.  I hate them, nd my flat chest, they're pulling my chest out,
so it's even flatter, and I'm not getting hips, but now my dress is up. 
Off my lap, so he can feel my legs, and up to my panties.

   "Hhuh!" I brace myself, for when he touches them, but he didn't feel
anything.  In there, with them hanging down.  And pointed down, even swolen
and stiff.  I hate that too, but I smile.  Thinking about what he might
think.  How he might feel about it, when he discovers the surprise.

   "Nh!" It flipped up.  When he pulled them out.  To feel inside.

   "What the?" It just made me grunt, because the fabric slipped over the
head, and her felt it.  With his fingers.  "What is that?" He let go.

   "Hihn!" I giggled, "I think you know." I stood up, "What that is." My
dress slipped back down, and I looked at his lap.  He must've got his pants
open, when I had my eyes closed, but it wasn't swollen no more.  "What's
wrong, you don't think I'm pretty no more?" I lowered my voice.  Or stopped
trying to pitch it up.

   Quietly, girly, shy and pretty.  That's what he wants, but that's not
what I came here for.

   "You're a boy?"

   "That's right, faggot." I laughed.  For once, I was even a little proud
of it.  The little hardness, in my panties.  I like the way they feel,
tight against it, and rubbed it through my skirt.  "Why do you think I wear
makeup, pervert?"

   "You're a pervert!"

   "Ohh, good comeback!" I laughed, "I never heard that before.  On the
playground.  You like watching the playground, pervert?  Looking at little
girls, and jacking off in the window?" I pushed him down, "Sit down,
fucker!" Before he could get up.

   "What is this?"

   "You know.  What you're doing, what you think about, and your dirty
looks.  They don't make us feel pretty." I pushed him, with my foot.  "I
Said, Sit.  Down.  Now," I leaned over, to stand on his lap.  I didn't kick
him, in the balls, or even crush them with my jelly.  You know, the jelly
flats?  They were real popular, with all the girls, but they don't hurt my
feet, or have any heels.  Just made my feet look pretty, and dainty, so I
stepped back.

   "Now, I'm going to go.  But I'm going to be watching." Felt the
doorknob. "You, I been watching you, ever since you got here.  I know your
dirty little secret, and your wife.  So, if you're thinking about telling
on me, let me tell you." I unlocked the little thing in the handle.  Like a
switch, you just turn it to pop out, then push down the handle.  "Get out
of here.  Go ahead, pack up your stuff, and leave, before everyone knows
what you are."

   Leave my friends alone.  "Or else." I even slammed the door on my way
out.

   ;

   {That was my little revenge fantasy.  Something I never had the courage
to say.  To my father, of course, who would never mistake me for my sister,
nor anyone but his son, no matter what I wore, and how much makeup I put on
to cover it up.  You know the guys that fear Transexuals are "Traps" to
lure men into gay sex?  Well, that's all it is, they can't conceive of it a
anything other than a ploy to get in their pants.  Like anyone wants to get
in your pants, man.  Like the myth that gays, and bisexuals are perverts?
Well, that's a myth to vilify us, by cistraight white religious men that
associate us with sin, and don't know the first thing about it.  Which
isn't to say that none of us ever are.  Don't make any assumptions about
us, either way, there's not even a correlation.  Just like let's say
Catholic Priests.  The other myth was that they would never do this kind of
thing, right?

   Consider the source.}

   ;

   Lester (Mt Mole)

   "Hhhhhh!" I got up, pulled up my underwear, and fixed my pants.  Kicked
some dirt over it.

   "Hey,"

   "Oh!"

   "Little boy." I frowned.

   "You know, you don't have to do that?" I looked back, but he touched my
shoulder.  Squeezed it.

   "What?" I shook my head.

   "Squat like that."

   I shrugged, pushed it off.  "Yeah, I know."

   "To piss?"

   "Mhm?" Walked off.

   He followed me.  "Like a bitch."

   "Well, I couldn't lift my leg." With my shorts around my ankles.

   "Why'd you do it then?"

   "I don't know.  I like to?"

   "Piss like a bitch?"

   "Mhm?"

   "You got a bitch at home?"

   "You mean, like a dog?" I shook my head, "Cats, but they pee like that.
In the box."

   "That why you squat, and piss like a bitch?"

   I shrugged, "I guess." Nodded.

   "You like it when I call you that."

   "Not really."

   "Bitch."

   "That means dog."

   "Yeah, a female dog."

   "Yeah."

   "Like a girl."

   "Uh huh?  So?"

   "You don't mind?"

   "No?  I'm not a dog, but I like girls." There's nothing wrong with them.
"Your a bully."

   "Your not scared?"

   "I know lots of bullies."

   "You know why girls squat to piss?"

   I shook my head.

   "You wanna see?"

   I shrugged.

   "Come on." He squeezed my shoulder again, "I'll show you."

   So, he took me home.  I guess I was curious, and interested.  I didn't
care, no I never seen a girl naked before, so I had no idea.  Until he
showed me the pictures.  Down in the basement, my mouth dropped open.

   "What happened to her thing?"

   "She don't got one."

   Just like a butt, all the way around front.  "Huh!"

   "That's why they have to squat to piss."

   He showed me, another picture.

   "Potty." Not like a toilet, more like a little china bucket, with a
rolled top.  And fat sides, or a teapot without a handle, nor a spout.

   "Yeah, this is her learning to potty.  You like it?" I shrugged, but he
didn't move his hand.  Pulled my shoulder, to hug me tighter.  Under his
arm.  "How's it feel, to look at her pussy?"

   I shrugged, "She's a baby."

   "Not no more, she's all grown up.  You feel a little hard, in here?" I
squeezed my legs, but he didn't move his hand.  So, I shook my head.  "You
want to?  Feel something big, and hard?" He pulled it out, and took my
hand. "Here, feel that?  That's what a man feels like.  Big and hard." He
rubbed it.  "Not little and soft, like a bitch."

   "Oh." I didn't know what to say.

   "Here," he moved his hand.  "Let me show you."

   "Okay."

   I looked, and he was hairy.

   "You like it?"

   "Like a dog."

   "Yeah, but not like a little bitch." He likes saying that.  I think he's
calling me that, but it's like the bullies, at school.  Well, not really.
Whenever they called me a pussy, or girl, and I admitted it, they just
laughed.  He didn't laugh.  "Kiss it."

   "Uh," I pushed on his lap, so he put his hand on my head.  "Uh uh." I
shook it, so he pulled my hair.

   "Nh!" He pulled on it, and bumped my face.  With his knuckles, then I
felt it.  Spit boogers on my face, and he grunted, until it stopped. 
"Huh!" He patted my head.  "That's a good little bitch."

   "Can I have a picture?"

   "You want one?"

   "I won't tell, if you give me a picture."

   "Okay." He wiped his hand, and gave me his hanky to wipe off my face. 
"Pick one out.  Whichever one you want."

   "Okay." I took the one with the potty.  "Can I go home now?"

   "Sure thing." He let me out.  "Now, remember our deal."

   "Okay," I put in my pocket, but it was my deal.

   I told right away, showed them the picture, and told them right where he
got them.  "Out from under the stove, in the corner of the basement, in a
shoe box." The police man wrote it down.  "He had a bunch of them."

   ;

   Bully

   "I got to go pee."

   He pulled down and squatted.

   "Hahaw!  Why d'you piss like that?"

   "I'm a girl?"

   "I knew it!" He finally admitted.

   "Hhn!" He nodded, and it trickled out.  Between his shoes.

   "I kinda have to.  Too."

   He got up.  Looked at my pants.  "Can I watch?"

   "Why?"

   "I want to see, how you do it.  Like a real boy?"

   "Okay," I unzipped them, "Pinnochio."

   "Hihihn!" She giggled, like a little girl.

   "What?" She laughing at it?

   "It's so big!"

   "Yeah?" I looked down.

   "Oh yeah.  I never seen one, so big before." Her eyes, so big and wide.

   "Hn!" I tried to squeeze some out.

   "Go on." He licked his lips.  "Mhn!" Closed his eyes.

   "I thought you wanted to see."

   She blinked.  "Mh, yeah." Shook her head, "Sorry, go ahead."

   "I can't." It was starting to hurt.

   "It's hard."

   "Nh!" I squeezed it, but nothing came out.

   "Here, let me helpyou."

   He touched it.  "Fag!" I slapped his hand.

   "No I'm not.  Uh!  Fags are boys, and I told you.  I'm a little girl."

   "That's just pretend."

   "Okay, then just pretend, I'm a little girl.  You can't piss with it
hard like that." Just saying piss like that just made it swell.  "You jerk
off?"

   I nodded.

   "Then do it.  Then you can pee."

   "You want to watch?"

   "No, I want to jerk it off."

   "Why?"

   "Because it's so big, and I'm a girl.  I like big dicks, like that."

   "Nh!"

   "Hihih!" She grabbed it.

   "Uh, huh!" It was too late, so I just closed my eyes, and felt it
twitch. In her tiny little fingers, and she sounds like a girl.  Giggling,
just holding it, and feeling it twitch.

   "Huh!" but he doesn't look like one.  "Oh." He just looked down.

   "What?"

   "Nothing came out."

   "Huh!" It drooped, and I pulled it out.  Straight, before the piss
reached the end.  "HhHhH!" My knees shook, and I never felt a pee like
that, ever before, in my whole life.  "Huh, fudge!"

   "Fuck." I blinked.  "You're supposed to say fuck."

   "Yeah," my ears burned, "Fuck."

   "Good."

   "You like to fuck?" Like a girl?

   "I don't know." He shrugged, "Maybe we can try it, next time you get it
up."

   I shooked it, and fixed up my pants.  "You're not really a girl."

   He pouted, "I know."

   "It's bad.  You know, what we just did."

   "I won't tell." He nodded.  "You're gay."

   "Yeah," I didn't think so, before.

   "It's okay, I won't tell no one.  I promise."

   ;

   Lester

   "Don't worry about it." I didn't feel, nothing.  Good, I felt good, but
the whole time.  I just, thought it would feel like.  Something more?  I
was proud of myself, because Maurice would stop beating me up now.

   "I'm going to hell." But he felt guilty.

   "Nuh uh.  Not if you repent."

   "But, it says in the bible, it's Abomination."

   "Yeah, in the old testament?  Then Jesus came, and said you just have to
repent.  So, repent before you die, and it will be all right."

   "Really?"

   "Uh huh?  You're not Jewish." I could tell.  "You don't eat Koshur?"

   "What's that?"

   "It's complicated, like eating the wrong kinda meat, or dairy with it,
or shellfish."

   "Fish on fridays, for lent?'

   "Yeah, like that, only it's the old law.  Of Moses, for Jews.  Jesus is
the new law, for Christians, so you just have to repent.  What he died
for."

   "Oh yeah."

   "Yeah, so.  Now if we don't sin, and repent, it's like he died for
nothing."

   "You're a sinner."

   "Nu uh." I grinned, "I repented."

   "Amen."

   But still, I thought.  Maybe, if I got a boyfriend, it didn't have to be
Maurice, he was just there, and let me hang out, and he thinks he's gay,
but what do I know?  I mean, I thought I'd feel something, if I had sex,
and maybe it's because we didn't have sex, but it just hung in my pants
like.  Some dead thing, I didn't feel anything sexy at all.  Proud. 
"Yeah." Maybe a little proud.  "You think I'm pretty?"

   "A little," he didn't look.

   "Look at me."

   "Uh huh?"

   "Tell me again." Look me in the eye.

   "Yeah.  You are, kinda cute." I looked back and forth.

   "Okay," I believed him.

   I didn't feel anything from that, neither.

   "Huh!" So, I guess I better try something else.

   Maybe a girl next time, but how do you talk to a girl?  I wish I had a
sister or something, maybe I should ask my mom.

   Maybe I am gay?  Or a lesbian, I mean.  I'm a girl, I know that, so
maybe that's the problem?  It sure doesn't feel like it said I'm supposed
to in the romance stories, but I held his hand anyway.

   It just felt clammy.

   ;

   Lilly

   "Oh," he came out, "Hey Lilly." Closed the door.

   "Is that my dress?"

   "Yeah, I'm sorry."

   "What were you doing in there?" With my brother.

   "Can we go talk?"

   "Well," I looked, "Come on." I unlocked my door.  "How did you get
that?" Dropped my keychain back in my purse.

   "I took it from the laundry room."

   "Oh," right, "Yeah." I wore it last week.

   "That's not what I'm sorry about."

   "What then?"

   "Well," he didn't take it off, but twisted the skirt in his hands. 
"Huh! I sent your dad away."

   "Oh."

   "For what he did."

   I sat down.

   "He showed me pictures, and.  Huh!  Well." He looked away, "When you're
a little girl." My hands went cold.

   "Thank you."

   "Oh, you.  I didn't know, how you might feel.  About that."

   "No," relieved?  "Really, thank you.  So much." I didn't, I couldn't
stand it.  Seeing him every day, and knowing what he did with them.  "Huh!"
Remember him, doing it.  When he took them.  "Snh!"

   "I'll go.  Take this off.  Can I use your bathroom?"

   "Sure."

   He just turned the little switch.  In the handle, so my brother couldn't
get in.

   The music got real loud.  "IiiiiaI!" He closed the door.  To Maurie's
room.

   "Nhmhmhm!" I just covered my face.  I heard the door.  The bathroom
close quietly, but the doorknob clicked.  "Uh!" I got up, and locked it,
but that didn't help.

   "Uh huh huh!" I fell down, on the floor.  Against it, but he never came
in that way.

   He's gone, but locking it didn't help.

   He put that lock, in the door for me.  He said, so I could have some
privacy.

   "Ahhhh huhuhuh!"

   Of course, he had a key to it.

   He hadn't come in, for years.  Sat down next to me, and told me a story.
Reached out his long arm, to lock the door, then turned back.

   "Ahhhhah!  Will be watching over youuu!"

   Smiled down at me.

   "Smiling next to you."

   Tucked me in.

   "In Silent Lucidity."

   {(c) Queensryche 1991.  ARR, used without permission.}

   ;

   Terry

   "Huh!" Well, that worked.  The song switched, to Hand on Heart.

   I took it off, just my regular underwear on under it.

   I don't guess, it's as romantic.  Not that that helped, me feel it with
him.  I sucked him off, not real sure how to ask him.  If he knew about the
pictures, or ever saw them.  He had no idea why, he went to jail.  It was
just her, in the pictures anyway.  I guess that means he just.  I don't
know, then why did he.  Bully me like that?

   I feel confused, but that's normal.  For me, that's what I'm used to,
but now.  I don't know what it is, but I do feel something.  For Lilly, sad
because of what he did, and glad I could help her out.  Get him away from
her, I can't imagine seeing him, living with him, but I felt relieved when
the police believed me.  I guess the picture helped.

   Okay, it was just a potty picture, right?  Not that bad, they tried to
think it was just a daughter moment, parents might want to remember.  The
first time she used the potty, I maybe picked the wrong one, but then they
tested it, for evidence.

   The crime lady came in, when I was talking to them, and cut off the
lights.  She had on a coat, like a doctor, all buttoned up, and white, but
no stethoscope.  It glowed bright, purple, then she shined her light on the
picture.

   The fingerprints, turned it over with some tweezers, and there was more
on the back.  I didn't think of that, but they were to big to be mine.  I
looked at my fingertips, but I couldn't see the fingerprints in the dark.
"How come mine don't glow?"

   She turned on the lights.  The overheads, and unplugged the purple one
she brought.

   "This is a special light." She got down, squatted as if to pee.  Didn't
pull down her pants, but looked me in the eyes.  "It brings out certain
fluids, in the dark."

   She told me, honestly.

   "Oh," then they let me go.

   I felt so proud, and happy for what I done, but now.  I felt so much
better for her.  Lilly, I'm sorry I made her cry, but she locked the door.
And cried against it.  So, I went back in Maurey's room, and put my pants
back on.

   "What was that all about?"

   He turned off the tape.  {Empire}

   I shrugged.  "She just wanted her dress back."

   "Well," he rubbed my bottom.  "You looked so pretty in it."

   "Yeah?"

   "Yeah, and your butt looks great in those jeans."

   "Thanks." I pulled my shirt on.  "I think I'll go."

   "Hey," she stopped me, "Lester?"

   "Terry." I nodded.

   She hugged me.  Held my head, and didn't say anything.

   "Huh!"

   I felt something, then.
   ;