Copyright 1999, 2002 by Wanda Cunningham. Lainie, Vickie, Rebel and Bashful, thanks for the encouragement. There is no actual sex or transformation in this chapter, but I guess it should be rated R for context. So, 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.

  

Kelly Girl

by Wanda Cunningham

Chapter 5 - "All-My-Troubles-Bear"

  

Early in the morning, Kelly woke up, mystified as to where he was at first. He discovered that he had cuddled up with the enormous pink bear again, the one nearly as big as himself. He often woke cuddling with Barbie and it seemed rather lonely to wake up alone.

He lay there for a moment, still holding the bear and wishing vaguely that the plush toy were his mother. He rubbed his cheek on the soft fur and sighed. "I wish I had dreamed all of yesterday," he said to himself.

The previous day's events did seem as much like a strange hallucination as anything he had ever actually dreamed.

Had he really been parading around in a girl's bathing suit with everyone believing that he really *was* a girl. He pushed his face into the bear's fur and giggled in embarrassment. "I tried to tell them," he explained to the toy.

Finally, recovering his composure a bit, he found his glasses on the night table and looked around. Yes, he really was in the ultra-girly room he remembered from yesterday. And he really was wearing girl's pajamas.

Dawn teased at the window, making the too pink room even more pink. Noticing above the vanity a Minnie Mouse clock that read a quarter past six, he wondered if the clock were correct.

The dolls and toys sat around on shelves and dressers and toyboxes and dollhouses, smiling as if waiting for his next performance. "You guys are creeping me out," he complained and hid his face in the bear again.

Wattamygonnadoo? His mind spun around his predicament like a comet captured by the sun. Maybe I can get through the weekend without anyone finding out I'm really a boy?

Is that really a good idea?

Don't I want them to know I'm a boy, he wondered. Well, yeah, but not now. It would just be too embarrassing. I'm gonna have to let them think I'm a girl until...until Barbie gets back.

"It's only 'til Sunday night," he said aloud. Two more days of...well, he hadn't been pretending to be a girl, because he hadn't been putting any effort into it. "They all did it themselves, it isn't my fault." He sighed and rolled away from the bear. "I've got to pee," he told the fuzzy toy.

Getting out of bed he noticed again what he was wearing, girl's shortie pajamas with hearts on them. A long mirror on the bathroom door showed him just how sweet and cute he looked in them. "Gah," he said. Even the mirror has little hearts and flower stickers on it and a unicorn in the corner.

A unicorn? Why was a mythical animal with such a prominent pointy thing on its head considered a symbol of femininity?

He shook the questions away and tried to ignore the dissonant surrounding.

In the bathroom, he sat quickly on the pink toilet seat. "I have to go both," he assured himself. But truth was, even at school he usually used a stall and sat down to pee. Being the one who cleaned the bathroom at home he knew just how much splashed out and sprayed sideways from typical male pissing etiquette. That was why he usually sat down to pee. Wasn't it?

Most of the time he didn't think much about it--and he tried very hard just then not do so at all.

The bathroom didn't help him distract himself, really. Pink and red and red-decorated towels. A pink bathtub. Cute feminine looking bath products, Little Miss Avon bubble bath, Tangle-free Shampoo for Girls, deodorants that promised to make the user smell like flowers or raspberries.

Raspberries? He giggled, who would want to smell like raspberries?

He finished and carefully wiped himself and pulled the pajama bottoms back up. "I don't have any of my stuff here to wear, these are as good as anything," he muttered. At least, they weren't a skirt.

That done he wandered back to the bedroom. At home, Saturday morning meant cartoons on the TV with Barbie while they stayed in bed till nearly noon. He made the bed up while he wondered what to do.

A small TV on the chest of drawers proved instead to be a video cassette player with built-in screen. The collection of tapes leaned heavily to Disney cartoons with a few little-girl classics like "Heidi" and "Thumbelina" included. A book case proved to hold more of the same, some adult male's idea of what a little girl would or should read. The toys were mostly dolls and doll accessories. The dollhouse was an intricate structure, obviously custom-made, four feet wide and taller than he--and populated, even crowded, with Barbie's clan. He examined a Skipper doll curiously but put it back in the little bedroom where he found it. There was only one Ken doll in the tableau, dressed as a doctor and accompanied by Nurse Barbie. Babysitter Barbie with the little Kelly doll was not in evidence.

Kelly decided he had to get out of that room before he went into a diabetic coma. He padded out into the hallway, still wearing the shortie pajamas but no longer any more self-conscious about them than he had been about the bathing suit yesterday after wearing it for awhile.

The big room next to the bedrooms was empty and dim, the sun had not yet risen enough to shine in the skylight and the windows at the kitchenette end were insufficient to light the whole space. Kelly turned on the big screen TV, turning the volume down after one initial burst of sound. He tuned in his favorite cartoon channel and began exploring the kitchen. The refrigerator held milk, orange juice, butter, condiments, salad stuff and a covered bowl of what looked like pudding. A cabinet held several varieties of hot and cold cereal. Bowls, cups, glasses, flatware were also easy to find. Apples, bananas, grapes, pears and oranges occupied a big bowl on the countertop.

Kelly happily fixed himself a bowl of frosted shredded wheat with sliced banana and a glass of orange juice. He watched cartoons while he ate, cleaned up his dishes, put everything away and settled in front of the big TV to watch cartoons until someone else woke up.

He missed Barbie but the big screen tv was almost like going to the movies, he decided.

* * *

A little after eight, Richard stumbled into the big room wearing nothing but his briefs. He stared around blearily, "Oh, it's you," he said, finally. "I thought we had left the TV on."

Kelly sat up and smiled at him. "Good morning, Richard." Seeing an opportunity to tease the older boy, he pitched his voice up a few notes and made it lilt, like Barbie teasing a customer in expectation of a big tip. Kelly let his gaze drift down from Richard's face to where a bulge in the briefs indicated the teenager had yet to visit the bathroom. "You know," commented Kelly, "it's amazing how much better I can see with my glasses on."

Blushing, Richard turned and hurried down the hall to the bathroom he shared with his brother. "I'll take those glasses and throw them up in a tree," he warned with mock ferocity.

Kelly giggled. That had been fun.

When Richard returned he wore cutoff jeans and a Mighty Ducks T-shirt. Kelly glanced at him, "Oh, you're dressed this time." He turned back to the cartoon show.

"Oh, ho, very funny," said Richard. He padded into the kitchen and fixed himself a bowl of cereal also. "You want something to eat, Skipper?" he asked.

"No, thank you, I ate breakfast *hours* ago. And *I* cut a banana up in my cereal."

"Oh, yeah, where's the dirty dishes? You throw them away?"

"No," said Kelly. "I washed them and put them back."

"With soap?" asked Richard incredulously.

"No, stupid, with the dishwashing liquid under the sink."

"No shit?" Kelly gave him a mock glare. "Sorry." He ate quietly for awhile. "Boy, Concha is going to love you," he finally added.

"Who's Concha?"

"The maid. She and Hector live over the other garage, he's the gardener, mechanic and handyman, she takes care of the inside of the house. A kid who cleans up after herself is going to send her into shock," he explained. Then, grinning, he reached out a hand and ruffled Kelly's hair.

"Hey!" Kelly protested, "Why do you keep doing that!?" Then "You've got a maid?" Well, it only made sense, thought Kelly. How many rich people with a house this big *didn't* have maids?

"I know something you don't know," Richard chanted, smiling as he finished the cereal. He had just remembered it himself.

"What, that you have a butler, too?"

"No, something happened last night after you went to sleep. Hah!" Richard seemed amused.

"What?" Kelly could think of only one thing it might be. He braced himself for the embarrassment of being found out. And here I sit in jammies covered in pink hearts, he lamented silently. But Richard was not acting as if he knew that Kelly was really a boy.

"Dad called from Las Vegas. He said we'd better be nice to you 'cause you're going to be part of the family soon."

"Huh?"

"He and Barbie got engaged last night." He beamed obviously pleased with himself for being the first one with the news. Or pleased that he had thought of a good joke to play on his houseguest. "The only thing Pete and I haven't figured out is whether we should call you Aunt Kelly or Aunt Skipper." Grinning he flopped onto the floor beside Kelly.

"You've got to be kidding," Kelly protested. But the ice forming in his stomach had to mean that he already believed it.

"Nope, we talked to Barbie, too. It's not just some joke of Dad's. She told Pete and I that if we ever called her Mom she'd put us on restriction for a month." He laughed.

"But they've only known each other for two days! Why didn't someone wake me up? You've *got* to be kidding!" Kelly was almost wailing.

"Don't take it so hard, kid," Richard smiled, a little uncertainly. He tried to lighten the subject by more teasing. "I'm still available. We didn't wake you 'cause Andie said not to and Barbie agreed. She'll call back this morning to talk to you."

"She will?" Kelly realized he had been very near to panic. He unclenched his hands and made an effort not to cry. His breath came in a ragged gasp as he struggled not to hyperventilate.

"Uh, huh, boy, you sure seem upset! I thought you'd be happy for Barbie," Richard scowled. "You and Barbie are going to move in right away. I asked Dad about all of Darla's stuff and he said you could have it if you want it, that's going to be your room. So it's not like you aren't getting something out of it, too."

"I don't want anything!" Kelly protested. "We were *happy* being poor." Tears began to leak out. "This is going to change everything!" He stood and tried to run toward Darla's room but Richard caught him.

"Skipper! I didn't mean to make you cry!" Richard held him close. Helpless to get away from the bigger boy's greater strength, Kelly found himself sobbing against the convenient shoulder. "It's okay, it's okay," murmured Richard.

Pete's door opened and he stood there naked for a moment with an obvious morning erection before he realized what was going on. Kelly looked up at him, equally confused; he had seen a grown man, or nearly grown man, naked before but never quite so close-up. Blushing, Pete disappeared behind the door. "Sorry, Kelly! I'm sorry."

Richard, realizing what had happened, growled at Pete, "Dammit, Pete, we talked about this last night! No more running around naked! We've got a little girl living here now and she doesn't want to see your naked butt!"

Kelly giggled in spite of his distress. "I didn't see his *butt*." He wiped his face, pulling away from Richard.

"At least, you stopped crying," Richard commented, smiling. "I guess you're upset because everything is changing, huh? Let's try to be sure that everything changes for the better, okay?"

Kelly took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. "Some things have changed more than you know. I'm not sure what's going to happen to *me* now. Maybe Amanda will try to take me away from Barbie. She drinks."

"Is Amanda your and Barbie's Mom?" asked Richard.

Kelly nodded, feeling that to be the safest answer. What did Richard or any of the Manns' know about his and Barbie's real relationship. Barbie often told her boyfriends that she was twenty-one, too young to have a twelve-year-old daughter. Son.

"Well, I'm sure my Dad can hire bigger lawyers than Amanda can," said Richard. "He'll probably adopt you, that'll keep her out of your hair. Besides, he's always wanted a little girl, ever since Andie moved out. He raised her you know, after their parents died, she's sixteen years younger than him."

Kelly hadn't known that exactly but he might have figured it out, he did know Andie's age and birthday. He sighed, feeling a bit calmer after a good cry. Then he realized that Richard was still holding him close.

And I need a tissue, he thought. But it seemed difficult to move away from the hug, not just physically but emotionally. The bigger boy was comforting in his solidity. And it was very different from being embraced by Barbie. Kelly bit his lip and sniffled.

"You need a tissue," asked Richard.

"Yes?" said Kelly trying to pull away now that the moment was broken. But Richard simply reached a long arm out and snagged a box of tissue and somehow, he ended up sitting in one of the big padded tv chairs with Kelly in his lap.

Kelly blew his nose on a tissue and wiped his eyes with another fresh one and looked around for somewhere to dispose of the remains. Richard took the tissues gingerly and tossed them toward a wastbasket. One of them went in.

"Two points," he said.

Kelly looked at him. "Two? You missed with one of them."

"A basket is two points," explained Richard, "don't girls play basketball at your school?"

Kelly nodded, "Yes, but not snotball."

Richard snorted. "You're in a perfect place to get tickled, you know."

Getting tickled suddenly seemed like a monstrous danger to Kelly. He could feel their bare thighs touching where Richard's cutoffs ended. I'm sitting on his lap. I'm wearing baby girl pajamas and I'm sitting on his lap. I am so dead when he finds out I'm a boy, thought Kelly.

Richard frowned as Kelly's expression changed. "You? Are you afraid of me?"

Kelly nodded. "Yes? I mean.... You seem nice but I'm not used to...guys holding me. I'm just--not used to guys at all!" And my voice gets squeaky when I'm scared. And boy, am I scared.

Richard grinned, "Better get used to it, lots of guys are going to want to hold you in another year or so."

As if things weren't scary enough, thought Kelly.

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Copyright 1999, 2002 by Wanda Cunningham

More of my stories are also on http://bigcloset.net

Or http://bigcloset.ateros.com/newstuff

  

  

  

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