Copyright 1999, by Wanda Cunningham. Lainie, Rebel and Bashful, thanks for the encouragement. There is no actual sex or transformation in this chapter. Still, nobody under 18 should read this or whatever is the appropriate age in their community. This story deals with transgenderism in children and may be uncomfortable for some readers.

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Kelly Girl

By Wanda Cunningham

 

Chapter 2

Suit Yourself

 

Pete's driving style had one advantage over Barbie's; in a big Mercedes, the passengers didn't get thrown around quite as much. Before reaching the highway, he turned down a side street, saying, "Let's see if Cheryl and Debbie want to go out for a burger or something. You hungry, Skippy?"

"No, and my name is *Kelly*," he said, "Skippy is a *dog's* name." He decided that frustration was beginning to make him sound petulant but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.. They even laughed about *that* comment; better to keep quiet.

All the houses on this street were enormous, most with curving driveways like the Mann household. Stone and brick construction, tile and slate roofs, immaculate lawns; Kelly realized that his hosts and their neighbors formed a community of wealth that probably controlled the fortunes and fate of most of Orange County with influences reaching across the country and around the world. And if most of them were no brighter than the two in the car, he thought sourly, no wonder the country was in such sad shape.

Pete turned abruptly into the curving driveway of another mansion, this one of gray slate stone sides and a roofline that should have been in New England. Parking in the driveway of one of the two garages, he leapt out of the car and turned the engine off in one motion, provoking a yelp from Kelly as the car screeched to a halt. "Pete, you're an asshole!" Richard howled as he made a more cautious exit, by comparison anyway. "Just got his license last month," he added as an aside to Kelly before he followed his older brother through a gate beside the garage.

"Am I supposed to get out, too?" asked Kelly to Richard's back but the older boy didn't answer. Kelly sat for a minute or two, waiting in indecision. The keys were still in the ignition, surely Pete had not intended to be gone long. What had Richard said, Pete had just got his license last month? Not "got it back" after having had it taken away, which Kelly could have easily believed but "just got" it. Implying that six-foot-plus Pete was only sixteen. "Big people," snorted Kelly, another of his and Barbie's in-jokes.

Unbuckling himself and taking the ignition keys, Kelly was just locking the Big Benz up when a little girl came out of the gate the Mann brothers had disappeared into. Dressed in a violet-and-gold one piece bathing suit with her blonde hair lying flat against her head and back, she had obviously just emerged from a swimming pool. She stood about an inch taller than Kelly and probably outweighed him by ten pounds. Budding breasts combined with childish features to send confusing signals, but Kelly would have guessed her to be a precocious ten or eleven years old.

"Hi," she said happily, still standing by the gate and holding it open. "They told me they'd brought a little girl for me to play with but I didn't believe them!"

"You got that right!" said Kelly sourly, locking the passenger side door. Not knowing about the electric door locks, he had unnecessarily locked both front doors with the key.

"Are you Barbie Doll's niece?" she asked before he could say more.

"Sister," he corrected before he realized what he was saying.

"Then you *are* Skipper!" she exclaimed delightedly. "Barbie's little sister! Just like Pete said!"

"No, I'm Kelly, Barbie's --" he began.

"Barbie's *littlest* sister! The one she has to baby-sit." The girl laughed. "I'm Wendy, Cheryl's *my* big sister. Hurry up, this gate is heavy and if I let it close, you can't open it from outside unless you're tall 'cause you have to reach over the gate to get at the latch."

Kelly remembered with some chagrin that there *was*, indeed, a namesake doll in the Barbie family, a little baby that came with a "Barbie the Baby-sitter" set he had seen advertised on Saturday morning cartoons. "I'm going to just pull down my shorts and show them," he thought to himself. He walked slowly toward Wendy deciding that he would *not* do such a thing in front of her. It would be just too embarrassing and he might even get arrested.

"You call that hurrying?" asked Wendy. "You want to go swimming? we've got a big pool and everybody's going swimming 'cause it's not like the ocean where you can't swim 'cause it's so cold."

"You call that a sentence?" asked Kelly. Just beyond the gate a narrow yard led to a wider one with a pool in the middle of it. Three bikini clad teen-age girls decorated the edge of the pool and just emerging from the pool house, the Mann brothers arrived in surfer jams. Those must have been in the tote, thought Kelly.

"Huh?" said Wendy. She let the heavy gate bang closed behind her.

The three girls, all varying shades of blonde, posed briefly for the boys before slipping into the water and urging the brothers to do the same. One girl, in a red string bikini might have been a Baywatch cast member so well did she fill out her suit. The other girls, one in yellow-and-green floral and the third in pink with white polka dots, seemed younger and less mature.

"The girl in the red suit is Cheryl, my big sister," Wendy explained. "She's seventeen, those are her new boobies she got for her birthday that Dr. Mann made for her and I'm going to get a big set of boobs, too."

Maybe she always talks like that, thought Kelly.

A boob job for a seventeenth birthday present? This *was* Newport Beach. He wondered what a set of large breasts would look like on Barbie and if they really would enable her to get more dancing jobs. Intellectually he understood that men liked to look at large breasts but emotionally he preferred his mother just the way she was.

"Well, not until I'm older," Wendy finished her thought. "How about you?"

"No way," said Kelly, shaking his head. "Besides, I'm a boy."

She laughed. Everybody laughs, thought Kelly sourly, my hair isn't *that* long.

"Pete said you were pretending to be a boy, I used to pretend I was a boy because my daddy wanted a boy but he's got three girls so I was his last chance but now I like being a girl. Why do you play you're a boy, did *your* daddy want a boy?"

Kelly shrugged, he'd never known his father. "It's just a stupid game," he said to defuse an even stupider conversation.

"Hey, Skipper!" Pete had spotted them. He waved. "Why'ncha borrow a suit from Wendy and come swimming with us?" He suddenly grabbed Cheryl and dunked her. She came up squealing and trying to pull the bikini top back down to cover the new tits. Pete and the other teens exploded with laughter.

That's one reason, thought Kelly.

"C'mon," urged Wendy. "I've got lots of old suits, some of 'em don't even fit anymore, I'll *give* you a suit."

"Can't we just play inside for awhile?" suggested Kelly. "The big kids are hogging the pool."

Wendy took a deep breath. "But I can't go in the pool unless Cheryl or Mom or Dad is right there which I don't think is *fair* cause I'm almost ten and besides Mom and Dad only go in the pool when it's all adults and then I'm not even allowed outside on the *patio* so the only time I get to go swimming is if Cheryl and her friends are in the pool but she only wants to swim if there are *boys* coming over so the big kids are always hogging the pool like you said but I guess we could go inside and play with my Barbie dolls if that's what you *want*?"

A new record thought Kelly and she had just enough air. She really must know what she's going to say before she starts even if it doesn't sound like it. He shrugged, unable to think of what to say in the face of such a barrage.

"Let's go up to my room and you can try on the suits and see which one fits and if you like one of them or we could just play dress up or play with the Barbies or, or, do something *else*!" she finished with a squeal and a bounce. Taking Kelly by the hand, she pulled him toward the house.

Nine. She's only nine, he thought, almost jerked off his feet by Wendy's enthusiasm.

*****

In her room, which was hers alone and nearly as big as Barbie and Kelly's apartment, Wendy displayed her choice of bathing suits on the big, pink, canopied bed. It was definitely a girl's room with flowers and pixies in the wallpaper, lace on the curtains and a hundred stuffed animals on the bed. A bathroom opened directly off the bedroom filled with pink porcelain and pastel towels. Kelly looked at the suits and sighed. The thought of wearing one of them made him want to squirm, the thought was almost unthinkable but...he had thought it.

"Can't make up your mind?" said Wendy. "Most of them don't fit me anymore cause I growed a lot since I turned nine so if you like I guess you can have more than one of them as long as they don't fit me and what size are you? I wear a twelve now even though I'm just nine so I guess you might wear a nine or a ten? How old are you, anyway?"

"Twelve," said Kelly, truthfully.

"Huh-*uh*," Wendy laughed. "You are just a big fibber like saying that you are a boy 'cause I'm a lot bigger than you are even though I'm not the biggest kid in my class at school, I'll bet you're just eight, I'm right, *huh*?"

"Oh, c'mon, Wendy," said Kelly, exasperated. "Do I sound like an eight-year-old? Obviously I'm older than you are."

"Are not! Alison is twelve and she has her period and she's over five feet tall--you saw her in the pool out there in the pink bikini--and she has to wear a bra and everthing. You're just a skinny little girl who dresses like a boy and fibs a lot." Wendy stuck out her tongue at him.

That girl in the pink bikini was only twelve? thought Kelly. How depressing, I'm going to be going to school with girls like her in the fall. "Okay, would you believe that I'm -- eleven?" he offered, trying to make peace with his hostess.

"Nope, nine tops!" she countered.

"Okay," he agreed, why not? "But when is your birthday?"

"When's yours?"

"March 17th, St. Patrick's day."

"Oh, mine's April 10th so you *are* older, but just a month but if your birthday is St. Patrick's day how come they didn't name you Patricia?"

Kelly grimaced, "If you'd been born five days later would they have named you Iris?"

"Huh?"

Kelly did not try to explain about the Ides of April and taxes which he had been doing for Barbie for the last three years. "My grandmother's name is Patricia, so I guess they didn't want to get us confused." Kelly extemporized; his grandmother's name was Amanda, the only grandmother he knew.

"Oh."

Why do people believe me when I'm lying and not when I'm telling the truth, Kelly wondered. He picked up a dark blue one-piece suit with a pink, orange and yellow sunset, "I guess I'll try this one."

After saying that he wondered why he had done it. At least it wasn't frilly or all pink or something. He went into the attached bathroom, kicked off his thongs and pulled off his shorts and T- shirt. His underpants he hid in the roll of his other clothes.

Holding the swimsuit out, he contemplated, wondering again why in the world he was going along with this. Dithering wasn't helping so, finally, he slipped the suit on. It fit fairly well although it did not feel particularly feminine. He checked to be sure that nothing showed in the crotch and opened the door of the bathroom.

"Hideous," said Wendy. She shook her head woefully.

"What?" Kelly was startled. "What's wrong with it?"

"That blue, it's all wrong for you and that stupid sunset is ugly all by itself, somebody gave me that suit, I never wore it and now I remember why. You've got green eyes, you shouldn't wear blue, at least not that blue so why don't you try this one, coral and aqua, it'll pick up the color of your eyes and the pink won't make you look sick like that blue does?"

Kelly was impressed, the ditz had fashion sense, at least. The proffered suit had a--Kelly would have called it blue-green--deep aqua bottom made as one-piece with a coral pink bra-like top. The whole thing had a mermaid like quality to it. Almost reluctantly, Kelly disappeared into the bathroom again. What does it matter, he wondered, whether it looks good? But he stripped off the offending suit and slipped into the pink and aqua one.

He stood for a moment looking at himself in the mirror, the coral pink top did a lot to add to the illusion of femininity. He tossed his head, imitating one of Barbie's gestures. For a moment, he saw his mother as she must have looked as a little girl. "This will have to do," he decided, feeling a strange thrill from the impersonation. He checked the groin area again for any tell-tale bulges before he left the bathroom. There weren't any nor was there any body, armpit or pubic hair to worry about. Those things hadn't happened yet for Kelly.

When he emerged, Wendy clapped her hands and laughed. "That's *your* suit!"

"You think so?" he grinned, feeling a little silly. More than a little.

"Uh, huh. Wearing that, someone might believe you were almost twelve," she teased. "But they're sure not going to believe you're a boy."

"Oh, well," he said, smiling ruefully. "It was just a stupid game."

"You'd better leave your glasses here, they might fall in the pool or break," warned Wendy.

"But, I'm blind as a bat without them!"

"Take'em off."

Reluctantly, Kelly removed his glasses.

"Wow," said Wendy. "You're really pretty. I mean you're pretty with your glasses but, you could be a model! Can you see me?" She stood five feet away and waved her hands.

"Uh, huh," said Kelly. "and you're both blurry." Myopic and strabismic--near-sighted and slightly cross-eyed--just like his mother, Kelly wondered how Barbie managed to dance without her glasses. He always worried about her falling of the stage or table or whatever.

Wendy stepped forward and took his hand. "This one is me."

Kelly giggled, a little nervously. "I always wear my glasses."

"Well, you can't wear them in the pool. Let's go swimming!" Wendy, half running, half dragging Kelly, started out of the room. "C'mon, C'mon."

"Wendy!" Kelly squealed. "I'll trip on the stairs! Slow down!"

*****

Back out to the pool without serious incident, Wendy and Kelly found the teenagers were playing Marco Polo. "Let us play! Let us play!" shouted Wendy dropping Kelly's hand and racing ahead.

"All right, all right," laughed Richard. "But you have to be *it*."

"Wow," said Pete as Kelly walked carefully toward the pool. "You look cute in that suit, Chicklet. Doesn't she, Cheryl?"

Kelly felt self-conscious enough without being talked about, he closed one eye so he could see just a single Pete and read his expression. Pete winked back, grinning. Kelly turned his head away, blushing after realizing why Pete had winked.

"I thought you liked older women," Cheryl said, archly. The teen-age girl inhaled deeply, arching her back and thrusting her enhanced bosom toward the doctor's son. Harold Mann had certainly done good work; her build was impressive but did not look plastic or artificial. A tall girl with long legs and full hips, her new bosom attractively balanced her figure. Pete turned his eyes back toward her, appreciating his father's handiwork at close range.

Kelly found a lawn chair and sat down pretending to watch the game. All he really saw was a blur, or rather two sets of blurs but the players in the little drama were recognizable by the blotches of color that were their suits moving in tandem. The bigger kids were having no problem staying away from Wendy. Kelly tried not to squint or wink again, but sat quietly, half-smiling and feeling like a fool.

Now that he had gone this far with the charade, he decided he had better play the role fully. Remembering to keep his knees together, he couldn't quite figure out what to do with his arms. At first he leaned back on them, then folded them across his chest. Finally he pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees.

"Playing a different game?" Richard suddenly asked from beside him.

Startled, he turned to look, remembering in time not to wink. A red-headed double blur, Richard commented, "Why put on a suit if you're not going in the water?"

Kelly unfolded carefully, "I'm blind as a bat without my glasses."

"That's no excuse," said Richard. "If you weren't going in the pool, why take them off?" He reached for and captured both of Kelly's hands in his.

"Let go!" squealed Kelly trying to pull away, honestly terrified. This was suddenly way too much like what happened to him all too often at school. He struggled and fought back uselessly as the bigger boy pulled him from the lawn chair.

"You're going in the pool," said Richard and leaped, gathering Kelly close to him. Kelly had no choice; Richard outweighed him almost three to one, into the pool they went with a huge splash. The cool shock of the water caused Kelly to gasp and sputter. Wendy advanced on the sound eagerly.

"Marco!" the nine-year-old called and Kelly was it.

"No fair," he protested, "Richard threw me in the pool, right in front of you."

"Did not," Richard denied.

"Did, too!" Kelly exclaimed. "You liar!"

"Did not! Did not!" shouted Wendy, who was clearly tired of being *it*.

"Kelly's *it*," agreed Richard swimming away, laughing.

"All right for you, Richard Mann," warned Kelly. He closed his eyes and was soon into the spirit of the game, laughing and giggling with the rest of them. After half-an-hour, Richard--who was *it* at the time--cornered him in the deeper end.

"Help, help!" Kelly called as Richard closed in. "Somebody pull me out!" The excitement and exertion left him unable to lift himself entirely out of the pool against the pull of the water on his tired body.

"Marco!" cried Richard and seized him in a hug. Debbie and Wendy already lay on lounges near the pool, panting. "Game over," Richard announced, lifting Kelly easily to set him on the rim of the pool. During the brief embrace, however, Kelly had been startled to discover a hard presence in Richard's groin. Kelly felt certain that Richard had allowed Kelly's leg to touch there on purpose.

"Oh, God," thought Kelly, a little frightened. Richard still had his hands on Kelly's thighs.

"How old are you, Skipper?" the bigger boy asked, smiling.

Kelly grimaced. "I'm twelve."

"She is not!" Wendy interrupted, "She's nine, she told me upstairs!"

"I never did," said Kelly, seriously. "You said that nine was as much as you would believe. But I am twelve, I'm just...little."

"And underdeveloped," added Debbie, the one in the floral print bikini. "What's with you, Richard? Obviously, she's a little kid even if she is twelve. Look at Alison, she's twelve and she must be a foot taller." Debbie added in a kinder tone, "No offense, Kelly, you're just a late bloomer, you'll probably catch up."

"My...sister never made it to five-feet, she's just four-foot nine."

"Yeah, she's tiny," agreed Richard. "But she's beautiful and you look just like her. And so now she's your sister instead of your uncle?" He grinned. Debbie, Alison and Wendy had gathered around Kelly, almost protectively. "I'm fourteen," Richard added. "You're going to be in high school soon, I'll wait. Now who's for pizza?"

 

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Copyright 1999, 2002 by Wanda Cunningham.

Other Chapters of Kelly Girl and other stories by me appear on the BigCloset website. http://bigcloset.ateros.com/newstuff 

  

 

 

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