Copyright 1999,2002, 2003 by Wanda Cunningham. Lainie, Vickie, Rebel, Bashful, and everyone else thanks for the encouragement. This story deals with transgenderism in children and may be uncomfortable for some readers.

  

Kelly Girl

by Wanda Cunningham

  

Chapter 9 - Lambchops Wear Panties, Too

  

In a plush Las Vegas apartment filled with the evidence of wealth and indulgence, Barbie Dolores Drew watched Dr. Harold Mann hang up the phone. From where she lay in nude comfort on the kingsize bed, Dr. Mann towered over her. But then, he would anyway; he stood at least a foot-and-a-half taller than her pixie four-foot-nine. She noted his dark hair, receding from a high forehead, his careful tan, his blue eyes, his wide cheerful face that crinkled up with smiles when he looked at her.

He's a big handsome guy, all right, she told herself. And he's rich, and gentle and he can make me laugh. He could be the answer to all my problems and I surely might do worse for myself than to marry Mr. Mann. She grinned suddenly.

"What?" he said, seeing her smile as he turned.

"Oh, nothing, um? Are we going right to the hospital? You said I shouldn't eat anything before getting an-aes-thet-ic?"

He smiled at her. Tiny, blonde, bubbly Barbie seemed almost toylike at times. She's adorable, he thought. The lovely body, the cute voice, she's a sweet kid and I'm nuts about her. "Well, that would probably be a good idea," He widened the smile. "Maybe you should get dressed?"

She looked down and giggled. "Oh, yeah?" She bounced off the bed with a dancer's grace and a child's enthusiasm. "Should I try to take a shower again?" She looked at him sidewise and stuck the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

Gods, he thought. "Um, well, I sort of interrupted your last one, didn't I? Yeah, go ahead, and I'll leave you alone this time." It's going to be hard to do that; frankly, it's going to be just plain hard, he told himself.

She giggled and pranced into the bathroom, almost skipping. He's got it bad, she noted. And I'm the one giving it to him, it's Bonanza time and Ben Cartwright has *another* hard-on for me. I've sort of agreed to marry him but what the hell am I going to do about Kelly?

Harold watched her pink, upside-down heart-shaped bottom disappear into the bathroom and turned resolutely to call his clinic to get things ready. The hell of it is, he thought, I've made a career of making women's tits bigger and after years of it, I find I actually prefer the ones Barbie has now. They're almost perfect, just a little less than a B-cup and I love them.

*She's* almost perfect, he decided. He heard the water start in the bathroom and tried to think who else he could call to distract himself from thinking about Barbie's tiny perfection all soapy and slick and.

And she's got a daughter. He tapped on the phone dial, a twelve-year-old daughter who looks to be only six or eight. Barbie could pass for twelve herself if the light were just right and she dressed the part. Hard to believe she's twenty-six, which means she had Kelly when she was fourteen? That's...

"Carlotta?" he said into the phone. "Prep Room One for a noon mammoplasty, um, high-profiles -- get several sizes, starting at 310 ready. I've got a special patient coming in, narrow ribcage, entertainer."

When Carlotta had all her instructions and had hung up, Harold rubbed his forehead with the phone. I hope I feel the same about Barbie when I've given her the breasts she wants. She's got B breasts now and she wants D-cups, even DD-cups. He could imagine how she would look, he was a professional at that, and he definitely preferred her current appearance.

Well, he decided, if things don't work out between Barbie and me, maybe I'll wait six years or so and marry Kelly. He grinned. Though, her I'd rather have as a daughter, she's going to be fun to watch grow up.

In the bathroom, Barbie finished her shower and doused herself liberally with $40 a bottle after shower spray. Then she pat-toweled herself dry and wondered: when, how and whether she would tell Dr. Harold Mann that Kelly was a boy. How had the kid managed to convince everyone that he was a girl, anyway? And why had he done it?

The tip of Barbie's tongue appeared between her teeth again as she puzzled over that.

* * *

In the children's wing of the Mann house, Pete and Richard lounged on the floor and watched sports. The programs had actually been taped earlier and that made for a lazy morning.

Concha had brought up a plate of her huge cinnamon rolls and the boys licked sugar off their fingers after having eaten three each. Pete considered whether he should eat another, there had been eight, but decided he'd better not because football practice for the coming school year started at eleven for him.

Peter Mann as a sixteen-year-old junior would play on the Varsity squad this year. He'd been the star of the J.V. team as a sophmore last year, bigger and more powerful than most of the other kids playing J.V. ball and he'd grown even bigger. Six-foot-two, he looked like a younger, fitter, red-headed version of his father.

"You going out for football this year?" Pete asked his younger brother.

Richard shrugged. He felt stuffed, trying to keep up with his brother's appetite. The last thing on his mind was putting on twenty pounds of padding and running around in the August sun. Not quite six-feet-tall and fifty-five pounds lighter than his brother's 205, Richard at fourteen was still probably the best combination of speed and power the freshman football team was likely to find. "I dunno, you spend a lot of time practicing and playing, I'd rather do other things. I think."

"Like what?" Pete frowned.

"Like, I dunno, things that don't involve guys your size trying to knock me down and step on me?"

Pete laughed. He nodded, "Yeah, well, but the chicks, the chicks dig football players."

"Point," acknowledged Richard. Pete's girlfriend Cheryl made a good argument for displaying macho prowess.

"You've got another week to make up your mind," Pete mentioned after a bit. The Frosh team didn't start as early in the summer as the Varsity.

Richard rolled over and waved at someone down the hall. "Who's that?" asked Pete, not looking.

"Kelly," Richard grinned. "She's so cute."

"Hey, she may be a relative soon," warned Peter.

Richard frowned. "Do step-aunts count?" The boys were still under the impression that Kelly and Barbie were sisters.

Pete laughed. "She's just a little kid, Dick-face."

Richard shook his head, "No, she's not, Peter-brain, she's twelve, just two years younger than me; by the time we get out of college, it's like the perfect age difference."

"You're a loony," said Pete.

"You going anywhere tonight? With Cheryl? Or?" asked Richard.

"Yeah, I guess, if I don't break a collarbone or something in practice. Movies or something maybe. Why?"

"Maybe Kelly would like to go?" wondered Richard.

Pete just laughed.

* * *

After waving at Richard, Kelly scooted into his room, the girl's room that had become his room. The Mann brothers acted so friendly but he felt positive that Richard had been trying to flirt with him. That frightened him just to think about it and he closed the door behind him with some relief.

A few minutes ago, downstairs with Andie and her enthusiasm, he had felt that maybe he could do this for however long it took to get through it. Barbie would get what she wanted out of Dr. Mann, money or free surgery or whatever, and then the two of them would go back to their old life. Maybe they'd have to move or something but they had certainly done that before.

He sat on the bed and tried to think about everything that had happened to him since he had come to the house of Harold Mann. The mistaken identity, the sitcom confusion, the dressing as a girl, the news that his mother had agreed to marry Dr. Mann. It all seemed unreal.

The room around him certainly seemed unreal with it's overdrawn little-girl femininity. The girl he could see in the mirror seemed unreal too, or maybe a little too real. He sighed and plucked at the clothes. "Stupid," he said out loud. How in the world had he ever decided to wear something with pink flowers all over it?

He blushed, just from looking at his reflection. He made faces at himself. They all looked cute. "I'm doomed," he said aloud. Someday, someone who knew who he really was would find out about this and then he would get laughed at or beat up or have to go live under an overpass or something. He recognized the face he was making in the mirror now, it was Barbie's pout. The face she made when she had to do something she didn't want to do, like clean the bathroom or take some medicine or fill out papers with other people watching her.

He stuck out his tongue at his reflection. That didn't really help. He wondered if he looked that cute when he had stuck out his tongue at Richard earlier. He was afraid that he probably had.

Unsure of just why, he got out his old, boy clothes where he had left them in Barbie's overnight case under the bed. He took them out and looked at them again. If he'd had his own overnight case, maybe this wouldn't have happened, he could have opened it up and shown the Mann brothers his boy's underwear. But his case, Barbie's spare one, with his other clothes had gone to Las Vegas and this one contained Barbie's cosmetics and changes of clothing. All becaue the Mann boys couldn't tell the difference between magenta and pink.

Now all he had in the way of underwear were the boy's briefs he had worn yesterday; the only boy's underwear that is. He had drawers full of drawers in this little girl's room.

He looked at what he had been wearing yesterday again. Khaki shorts, grey-blue t-shirt, white socks and tan sneakers. How could anyone think he was a girl while wearing these things? He stood and took off the sandals, jumper skort and yellow tee he wore down to breakfast.

He blushed thinking about how Andie had talked him into picking out the girl's clothes to wear. Shaking his head, he lay the pretty things on the bed and examined himself in the mirror again.

With hair a bit long for most boy's styles and wearing girl's underwear--he still looked like a girl. He sighed but he couldn't bring himself to put dirty underwear back on, so he slipped into his boy's shorts and t-shirt over the ruffled girl panties. That made him feel a bit weird in an entirely new way, but he tried to ignore it.

Feeling disobedient or maybe rebellious, he stood in front of the mirror once more, seeing himself from outside himself; an oval face with delicate features, a slender body, a mop of dark blond hair spilling onto his shoulders, androgynous clothing, a way of just *standing* that now seemed definitely feminine, or at least effeminate.

He tried changing position but he still seemed to fall into a naturally girlish stance each time. His large, blue-green eyes seemed ready for tears but rimmed in heavy lashes that needed only a touch of mascara to bring them out. Barbie had such eyes. His lower lip trembled slightly in a little girl pout.

"Damn it," he whispered. "I still look like a girl!"

Andie entered just then, surprising them both. Shutting the door quickly, she hurried across the room to take his arm. "For Pete's shake, what are you doing in *those* clothes?" she exclaimed in a lisping whisper.

"Andie! You're hurting my arm!" he whimpered, surprised at her reaction.

Andie sighed and shook her head. "Shorry," she said and let go of him. She looked at him a little calmer, "Cold feet?" she asked.

He nodded.

She smiled, "Okay, so...why don't you go out and see what the boys say about you being dressed that way?"

"Ack." Kelly's arms and head jerked as if anticipating a blow.

"They won't bite, go on, shugar," she urged. "Go on in there, and get a glass of water or shomething."

He frowned at her. The boys had already seen him dressed like this, in fact, this had been how he was dressed when they first decided that he must be Barbie's little sister.

Andie nodded. "Yup, you aren't gonna convince 'em you're a boy with that outfit."

"These aren't girl's clothes," he protested.

"No, but they might as well be, the way you wear them."

"What do you mean?" He tried not to pout.

"Kelly, you're a little fruitcake, you know that?"

His eyes burned a little and he reluctantly nodded. "Everybody at school hated me." He liked school, he liked learning things but there was no denying it; for the most part, school outside the classroom itself had been hell. A few of the girls were kind to him but he hadn't really had any friends. The tears began, "I'm really scared?" he said.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said and held out her arms. He let her hug him and did feel a bit better. It was strange being hugged by Andie, it made him feel tiny since she was 5'10", a foot and a half taller than he and she almost always wore heels that added another three or four inches.

"I'm supposed to be in seventh grade next month," said Kelly. "I'm gonna get killed if anyone finds out what I'm doing here."

"And if they don't find out?"

He sighed. "They'll probably kill me anyway. Why am I such a sissy?" he asked her while she wiped his eyes. Admitting that made his throat ache.

"I dunno?" she said. "Just talented at it?"

He giggled in spite of being upset. It wasn't what she said, it was how she had said it.

Andie grinned. "Now, do you really want to wear those clothes? Or would you like to wear something really pretty?"

"Andie," he began but couldn't think of anything to say.

"You like pretty things don't you?" she asked.

He looked at her sideways and felt like squirming. "Are you trying to make this harder?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Look, Kelly, I think you've got real talent at being a girl. Why not try it out? It's a perfect opportunity, no one will think you weird if you jump in with both feet and giggle and simper and pout all you want. You'll just be another cute, spoiled, little rich girl wearing fabulous clothes."

"I don't simper," he protested. He felt pretty sure that he didn't.

"Why not? It's fun."

He squeezed his eyes closed. "Just, go away and leave me alone?"

"Can't. I'm your babysitter this weekend and besides, I made an appointment with the optometrisht to buy you some new glasses."

"Andie, why can't I just be a boy?"

"You can if you want to," said Andie. "But this weekend let's just have fun and pretend you're a girl. Okay? It'll keep everyone else happy and on Monday, you and Barbie can have a few good laughs about it."

"I don't know," he started.

"Oh, hush!" she hissed with mock ferocity in her odd lisp. "Now, get out of those clothes, immediately, young lady. Is that clear?"

Kelly nodded, surprised. He moved to comply but Andie was going to have her way, quickly. Between them, he was stripped down to his pretty panties in seconds.

Andie wanted to laugh, "Kelly, you realize any other boy would likely have run screaming from the house rather than wear frilly panties under his clothes?"

Kelly didn't want to look at her grinning at him. "Yeah, well, it just seems like I don't have any choice about this?" He glared at the floor.

"Okay, then," she said. "This is all my fault, my doing. I'm going to make you dress as a girl. That way you can stop feeling guilty. Deal?"

"Huh?"

She opened the closet, "You're going to wear a *dressh*, it's going to be *pink* with lace and bows. Makeup, jewelry, purse, you're going all the way, Kelly Girl." She smiled at him and her face and voice were friendly but her words scared him. "You'll be gorgeous and all the boys will want to hold your hand," she continued.

"But earlier you said it was up to me whether I wore girl's clothes," Kelly protested, forgetting for a moment his mother's request.

"Oh, well," she said, "I changed my mind, I'm doing this for your own good." She pulled down a pink party dress from the closet. "Besides, Harry will want his new daughter waiting for him when he gets home, you're going to be *all* girl when I get done. You saw yourself in the mirror, earlier, but we can do a lot more."

"Andie?" he said. "You're scaring me." All his life he had been self-reliant, self-directed but suddenly he didn't know what to do. Barbie, loving, ditzy Barbie had been his keel that kept him from drifting off his chosen course. Now Andie seemed like a gale force wind and he had no anchor. He sighed and shook his head.

Andie chuckled, "Don't take it so hard, Kelly, name one thing you're giving up that you're going to miss." She tossed the selected dress on to the bed, it had white lace at the neck and around the half-sleeves with little bows to set off the lace. Stepping to the vanity, she surveyed the cosmetics and scents, "Kiddie stuff," she sneered. "We'll buy you shomething better, but we can use this for now. Come here, baby."

"I'm not a baby," protested Kelly. But he came and sat in the vanity chair, what else could he do. Andie was the adult and Barbie had said he should do as she said. And Barbie had as much as ordered him to pretend to be a girl for the sake of her scheme to get Harold to do breast surgery on her. At least, Kelly hoped that was all Barbie had in mind.

"You certainly are a 'baby', honey," said Andie, looking critically at Kelly. "All girls are 'babies' or 'babes' until they suddenly turn into 'old girls'." She shuddered theatrically. "Now, what kind of look is going to be besht for you?"

"Aren't I a little young to be wearing makeup?" asked Kelly examining the pots and potions on the little vanity. The bottles had brand names like "Daisy" and "Little Sweethearts". He felt all trembly inside, but at the same time, relieved in a weird way. If Andie ordered him to dress up as a girl, it might be embarrassing but it wouldn't be something to be so ashamed of.

"Honey, your mother was pregnant when she was hardly a year older than you are now. Things have accelerated since then. This shtuff is just crap." She held a small blush compact and compared the color to Kelly's skin, "Do you know how to use this?" she asked.

He nodded then froze wondering if he should have admitted it.

"Well, do it," she ordered and put the container in his hand.

Kelly took the blush and used a little on his cheek bones. When Andie nodded, he continued with the rest of the makeup. An eyeliner stick darkened his eyebrows a bit, mascara brought out his lush, if nearly invisibly blond, eyelashes. It was difficult to work on his eyes with his glasses off, but with the mirror held nearly against his nose and one eye at a time closed, he could do it. He'd seen Barbie do it that way many times.

Andie made approving noises. "Do your lips?" she suggested.

He put his wire-rim glasses back on and examined the cosmetic table. The only lipsticks available were pink, so he chose a pale frost shade, used the tube, blotted, used powder lightly, reapplied the lipstick and blotted again. He smiled at his reflection and the gorgeous little girl in the mirror smiled back.

He blinked, honestly surprised at the effect. He looked like--a pre-teen movie star?

Andie smiled, too. "You do know how and you've got talent at this, too. A talent that would be washted on a boy, y'know. Done this before, haven't you?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I've helped Barbie apply her makeup."

"No, I mean, on yourself. You've done it before. You have a light hand, it hardly looks like makeup at all, except for the lipcolor. Nobody learns that without practice."

"Yes," he admitted again. "I've practiced." Practiced what? Being a girl? Had he been practicing? Or just playing? Either way...it ought to be embarrassing to admit it. But instead he felt an odd quiet, a peacefulness. Andie had taken charge and none of this was his fault, so he could treat it as just another game.

"You're a natural, honey." She held out the pink party dress. "Thish goes over your head, do you think you can put it on without getting makeup on it?"

"Well, yes," he said "but this is like a little girl dress. I *am* twelve, you know."

Andie laughed, "I know, dear, and so does Harold but this will work better on him if he thinks of you as the little daughter he always wanted. You need help?"

He nodded, Andie held the dress for him, helping him avoid touching his face with the cloth face while he slipped the dress on carefully. He began tying the bow at the neck. "Get the one behind me, would you?" he asked. Andie did so, chuckling.

"You need a hairbow," she commented. Finding one, she helped him tie it also. Bit by offered bit, little pink socks with red hearts and strawberries at the ankles, white shoes, a thin chain with a locket, a charm bracelet with a teddy-bear, a heart, a half-moon, a kitten, and a star, Kelly dressed himself as directed by Andie.

She handed him a small white leather pocketbook at the end, "Put your makeup in this, and your glasses until we get you a new pair."

"But I'm blind as a bat without them," Kelly complained. And his appearance in the mirror was -- alarming. He looked eight, sweet and cute and smart, but eight, maybe six. And a girl.

"Oh, you are not that *blind*," countered Andie. "Barbie's glasses are even stronger and she doesn't wear them all the time, just when she's driving, moshtly. And you look much better without them. We'll get you contacts," she offered. "Now, you want to go tell the boys we're going to run shome errands, okay?"

He took off the glasses and fumbled a bit as he stored them in the pocketbook with the lipstick, blush, eyeliner and mascara. At least now he didn't have to look at the saccharine vision he had become. "Okay, am I still supposed to be Barbie's sister or can I tell them the truth?"

"What truth?" she smiled.

"That, that -- that Barbie's my mother?" He tried to glare at her but wasn't exactly sure if he was actually facing her or her doppel-blur.

"Oh, that truth! Sure, Harold knows and he would tell them when he gets back. Go ahead if you want to." She picked up Kelly's boy clothes where she had flung them, "I'm going to take these and give them to Goodwill or something." She watched him for a reaction.

He opened his mouth to protest but then shrugged and smiled, almost certain that Andie was teasing.

She laughed, stuffing the boy clothes into the plastic shopping bag that Wendy had used for the swimsuits. "Go ahead, talk with the boys awhile, I'm going to my room for some things. I'll keep your stuff there, I won't give it away."

"Um, can't I just wait here or go with you?"

She shook her head, "No, go see what they say about how you look."

"Now?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, now. You look adorable, go show the boys."

He walked toward the door, Andie followed. The skirt felt a bit stiff and a lot drafty. He knew his bare legs showed but he had to remind himself consciously that no one could actually see his panties. He blushed. Anyone could certainly guess that he had girl's underwear on under his other girl's clothes, though and that disturbed him.

Andie giggled, sending shivers of embarrassment right through him.

"Andie!" he protested, pausing with the door half open.

"Go on," she said. "Just don't let them kiss you."

"Ack!" They wouldn't, would they? He tried to turn away from the door.

"Why did you say that?" he demanded.

"Getting kisshed musshes up your makeup." She nudged him out into the hall.

He'd already been in front of the boys dressed as a girl, was this so different from wearing the swimsuit or the pajamas or the jumper? Well, yeah. This time he intended, however reluctantly, this time he had *tried* to look pretty. And that made it different.

He reminded himself that Andie was making him do this so it wasn't his fault. He stepped out into the hall and giggled nervously.

The boys looked up, Pete leaning over to get a better view, not that Kelly could see that without his glasses.

He couldn't help it, he giggled again. Am I simpering? he wondered.

Richard laughed, not meanly but with pleasure. "Kelly, girl, you look like a little doll!"

"Where's your box?" asked Pete.

Richard hit him. Andie cackled and Kelly turned bright red.

"What?" said Pete, hitting Richard back. "I just meant the box she came in, like a toy!"

"She's not a toy, you Neanderthalsh," warned Andie, taking Kelly's hand and leading him into the TV room.

Kelly bit his lip, tasting his raspberry flavored lipstick. The boys grinned at him idiotically.

Andie picked him up suddenly and he squeaked in surprise, dropping his white pocketbook. She sat him on one of the tall stools next to the breakfast bar and handed the pocketbook back to him. "You can watch some TV, honey, Aunt Andie will be right back," she cooed and smoothed his skirt.

He stared at her for a moment wondering if she had lost her mind, he really didn't need her to start talking babytalk at him. Besides, without his glasses, he couldn't *see* the TV.

"Boys, watch her," Andie commanded before striding off toward her room.

"I don't need to be watched!" he protested.

"But it's fun," said Richard.

Kelly giggled and wished he hadn't. He played nervously with his charm bracelet. The boys watched him, all toothy grins. I feel like a lambchop being guarded by Rottweilers, he thought, a little bit glad that the Mann brothers were just four red-headed blurs.

Thinking of lambchops wearing panties, he smoothed his skirt and tucked his legs back behind the crossbar on the stool, realizing that without his glasses, he'd probably fall if he tried to climb down.

"I think we're supposed to be watching to be sure she doesn't fall off that stool and show us her panties," commented Pete.

"You guys!" Kelly protested, afraid of that very thing.

  

  

  

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© 2003 by Wanda Cunningham. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.