Originally published on Classic BC on 2/8/2004

Therapy

By Tyrone Slothrop

Chapter 1: No Retreat, No Surrender

I watched my mother. She had that thousand yard stare again, sitting on the porch. I knew it was best to just be with her and wait until she came out of it. It had been six months since she had been rescued from the South American jungle and I still did not know all that had happened to her. I had missed my parents terribly for the two years they had been missing, kidnapped by a group of self styled political rebels. Rebels my ass.. Thugs and killers. I was glad they were all dead. Mom had had to watch them kill Dad and it had pretty much crushed her emotionally.

The Special Forces Captain who led the team in had taken Sandy, my sister, and me aside and told the story of how she had been found. While Mom lay in a hospital bed, being examined and treated for malnutrition, exposure and a few rare parasites, we had learned that loving, gentle Mom , freed from her wire caged area was there when the rebels were lined up to be returned. They were on the ground, hands tied behind their backs. Mom had asked the Captain if they were going to be interrogated, if they might know anything useful. The Captain had said no, they were pretty much just guards. They already had the bigger fish in custody. Mom had walked up to one of the men on the ground, pulled a homemade knife out and slit his throat. The other two men started screaming. The Captain, having been through this too many times, had looked at his troops and nodded. The five other soldiers looked the other way as Mom quietly killed the other two. She had then collapsed in the Captain s arms. Dad s death had had a down payment.

The Captain told them that he had never said this, it appeared in no report, and he would deny it, backed up by his men. He wanted us to know for Mom s sake. He had spent nine months and lost three men trying to get our parents back and was damned if, having gotten there too late to save our Dad he would not have someone know what happened to help with Mom's recovery.

Captain Jack said, "I ve seen guys tougher than your Mom go through less than she did and never get over it. I visit them when I can at the VA hospital. Your Mom's a great lady, and she is going to need you to help her with this. If what I told you became public knowledge there would be stupid legal and international investigation bullshit, pardon my language Sandra (my sister), and she doesn t need that. Her shrink can know, if you trust her shrink not to feel sympathy for those rebels and make political hay out of it. I wouldn't trust them, myself. I told your Grandma, she s a pretty sharp old girl and she asked me to tell you. The rest is up to you. Take care of Carolyn (that's Mom). She deserves better than she's had in the last two years. "

I thought Sandy was going to jump on Captain Jack and take him right there, which she probably would have tried in better circumstances. Instead, she had thanked him , burst into tears and hugged him. I had a few tears too, despite my best efforts to fight them back. I felt better when I saw the Captain s eyes were moist.

He shook my hand, and told me, "Brad, call me if you want to talk. It may take me a while to return the call, sometimes I get a little out of contact, but I will call you back. "

He was one of those guys who could probably have been a rich businessman or lawyer, but instead did the dirty and miserable job of keeping us as safe as he could. I wanted to be him at that moment, he reminded me of Dad in a lot of ways. I hope we always have enough guys like Captain Jack.

Chapter 2: Get The Background Out Of The Way

Gram had taken us in when Mom and Dad went missing in Argentina. They were supposed to be on their twenty-fifth anniversary trip, which Dad partially funded by doing some business down there for a few days. Then they were to be on their own for two whole weeks. Dad did consulting for business development, and was putting together a deal to create a medical serves operation in the more remote areas of the region. I hear people bitch about HMOs here but according to Dad the people in these areas would view getting even half of what we did here as arrival in heaven. The things we take for granted become life and death for others. Dad was one of the good guys. Mom was a hospital manager, having worked her way up from being a duty nurse. They made a great team.

Sandy was twenty , I was seventeen. One great thing about kids is they really tend to pull together when it hits the fan. Sandy and I had grown up with all the stages brother and sister have, disdain, disregard, anger, all laced with a constant undercurrent of sarcasm. That changes as you get older, especially when one of you moves out, which Sandy had done when she went to college. She had almost graduated when Mom was returned. She had put her life on hold and moved back in with Gram and I.. At least five guys were heartbroken as she had told them to get lost for a while and tended to Mom's recovery. Did I mention she was a total babe? Try growing up when your older sister is the best looking girl in town and the particular fantasy of all your friends. She was legendary and the subject of a lot of amateur photography. Only one guy had snuck a picture of her in the shower and I had pounded the crap out of him. She may be a pain in the ass but she was my sister. She was also valedictorian, prom queen, and about perfect.

Brad, that s me, I was another story. I was smart enough, but not the smartest. A bit of a loner, ran track, computer geek, kept to a small circle of friends. The same way ninety percent of kids can be described in high school. Lately, if some kid goes nuts and makes 24/7 cable news coverage, they are described that way as if it was a dread disease. All adults seem to forget that s how they were back in the day. I know for a fact they all were not homecoming queens or football captains. I was average height, wiry build, not great looking but not bad looking. The kind of looks a witness always describes to the cops on TV. He was, you know AVERAGE, kind of, officer.

Gram was the best. She had stayed with me when Mom and Dad were going away, to protect me and the house from me. If I ever have a real nice house and a fifteen year old boy, I'd have someone like Gram there too. Not that I was stupid, but I'd done some stupid things, some of which ended up with expensive things broken. Again, I'm not alone in this, most of you have been fifteen already. Gram was Mom's Mom, and had been a nurse herself. She had been a Navy nurse at Pearl Harbor when the bombs fell and had been shot at and saved lives in all kinds of really nasty places across the Pacific theatre of operations. I'd seen the pictures of Iwo Jima and Okinawa, and the wounded. She had felt their blood spurting. I guess Captain Jack just sensed she had done her time in hell, like two championship athletes just sense one another without words. Gram had never left. She sold her house and just reported for another tour of duty, raising her daughter s son and daughter. Sandy had stayed at college, but we both needed Gram to hold us together through two years of not knowing what had happened. The State Department, Dad's Company, The Argentinean Ambassador had all expressed their concern but it became obvious they had no clue. Gram had even hired Recovery Professionals and they tried, got some maybe clues but still nada. Fortunately, Dad had provided a trust which kept us afloat. Not well off, but just below the upper middle class. Money was not an issue, except being a teenager I never had enough. Gram kept me on a reasonably short leash financially but gave me a lot of room otherwise. She treated us like almost adults and did not condescend to us. As a result, we acted pretty grown up, most of the time. Plus, I can tell you, losing your parents at that age sobers you up. Life has come out and sucker-punched you right in the face. I began to understand those refugee kids you see in the pictures. School life can seem very petty in contrast.

Chapter 3: You Never Really Know Your Family

Like I said, it had been six months. Mom was not seeming to get much better. It was hard seeing her, distant and silent, a real contrast to the Mom who had raised me. She wasn t mute, she just didn t say much. She loved me, I knew that. That had not changed. She hugged me a lot. I spent hours, just sitting and holding her. Gram found a shrink who she either trusted or had threatened with a contract hit, probably both, knowing Gram. For being somewhere over seventy five, Gram acted not a day over forty and looked about sixty. A young sixty. Mom had seen the shrink for almost two months.

It was early March and the weather sucked. I was just returning from school, on foot. I had my license, but no car, yet. Gram had taken out Mom s SUV and I was not allowed near Dad s Porsche. It is not a real good idea to let a seventeen year old boy access to a 911.. Newton s Laws of Motion segue into Murphy s Law. Gram ran the Porsche just enough to keep the engine and bearings loose, like she had promised Dad. I was allowed to drive the SUV, just not everyday.

Janet had walked with me, so there had been compensation. Oh, yeah, Janet. I haven t mentioned her yet. She was my girl friend, maybe on her way to girlfriend. A lot of high school girls would have dropped me like a hot rock, after appropriate sympathy; of course, since I had pretty much dropped out of a lot of social activities for the last two years and was totally gone the last six months being with Mom. Janet was far more evolved than that. She had hung with me through the whole time. The only reason she wasn't girlfriend instead of my friend who was a girl was that she was waiting until I was ready to put the two words into one. At least I think that's it. I sure had thought about it and had been about to make the appropriate ritual moves when Mom had come home. Janet told me to spend time with Mom or she'd never talk to me again, threatening words which actually made me feel better. She was good to me.

Gram and Sandy had been conferring, and they were both smiling at me. Danger. Alarm Bells. Red Alert. I was no match dealing either with one of this pair and together they could tag team me into the canvas. Mom was off taking a nap. She had not been able to sleep more than three to four hours at a stretch during the ordeal and this was a great luxury. Sleep without someone hitting you with the butt of an AK-47.

"Bradley, how are you? How s school?" Sandy said, so sweetly I knew I was being set up. Gram nodded and smiled. Crap, double smiles. I'm Doomed.

"Fine. I just left Janet at the Prom Committee meeting. She s the leader. " I replied.

"Are you taking her?" asked Gram.

I hadn t planned on going. I'd rather be here.

The conversation got predictable. They thought I should go. I should ask Janet before someone else did. Mom would want me to. I would never get another chance. My replies were the same. It's not that important. Girls place a much higher priority on it than boys. I will think about it. I agreed with them both I would decide in the next few days to be fair to Janet. It was two months away and she would need time to figure out her dress, shoes, just everything, they said. Ok, ok. Girls do have a lot more to do. I just had to get a tux and a haircut.

Dinner, homework, sitting with Mom. That was the evening. She liked classical music, so that s what we did. I learned to like it. I feel sorry for people who only like one kind of music. It s like intentionally being color blind. You can see all the colors, you just choose not to. Mom turned to me and asked me about the prom. I told her I might go. She smiled and then got wistful. There was a flicker of light in her eyes. Then she looked sad. She said she had missed Sandy s prom. They had left before it was planned and she was supposed to be back in plenty of time to help Sandy with the preparations. She let a tear go. She had done a lot of things, but I had not seen her cry since she got back. I bet she had been cried out after a while in the jungle.

Chapter 4: Nothing Says Lovin Like Something From The Coven

That night, I was mostly asleep in my room. I got half awake when I thought I heard the front door, but then I heard Gram talking to Sandy. They quite frequently got up in the middle of the night and talked for a while. It was no big deal. I thought I heard Janet's voice, but I assumed I was wrong. I went back to sleep.

"Wake up, Brad. " Sandy was shaking me awake. I woke up, holding the covers over me as I slept in the nude. There were Sandy and Gram, both wearing the same white nightgowns, hair down and barefoot, with full makeup on . Weird, but not too weird, when you just want to go back to sleep.

"Bradley, I am going to ask you to do something which will require courage and fortitude. We think it is important for your Mother." Gram said. She was serious. I came to full awake mode.

"You know I ll do whatever I have to for Mom, Gram."

"I know that dear. But I want you to know this will not be easy for you. Now just listen for a while and then ask questions. I need you to understand this and you need to make your decision within the next half hour." Gram said. I was now really wondering what was going on. What could happen in the next half hour?

Gram continued after I nodded. "The women in our family are gifted or cursed, whichever you want. We have some powers which skip generations. I have them, Sandy has them. Your granddaughter may have them, when you have children. Assuming you are picked by the right wife." I remembered the ' are picked by' line later, much later. Gram went on.

"The powers can alter people somewhat and people's perceptions and attitudes, but not on a large scale. When that's been tried, some of our ancestors got burned by the townspeople."

"Don t tell me you are witches." I blurted out.

Gram held up her hand. "I said let me talk. It is a historical fact that women were burned and someone had to be their descendants. Call it what you want. We've had a lot of bad press and a lot of foolish people think it's fashionable to play at it. We cannot use the power except when it can help somebody in need and not at the expense of others. Sandy thinks we can alter the perception of reality just slightly and only with minimal disruption. Perhaps we can manipulate space-time as Albert used to call it, I do not know. I've seen a man levitate small objects without a single explanation, other than to label it paranormal . I knew him quite well and he was not con man. He never made a nickel from it and shunned publicity."

"So, here we are. Carolyn, your mother has been unresponsive to treatment. Someday she may tell us what happened but we do know she has been badly scarred in her spirit. Her body can heal, that's mostly done. Sandy and I have noticed she is holding onto the Prom she missed , the one Sandy attended. It is a symbol of what she has lost. We want to give her back that experience. We want you, with our help, to give her that experience."

I thought. And then talked. "Fine. I ll go to the prom. She can help me pick my tux. She can help me pick a corsage for Janet. But that's not even close to what you say she missed. Sandy, as I remember it, she was even making your dress. She used to ask me to hold up material while she measured. She never got to finish that."

Sandy smiled. She then said. "Brad. You are right. We want you to re-create what she would have done for me for your upcoming prom."

Ok. This was off the weird scale. "Sandy, I love Mom, but this sounds like a bad TV show. You think she wants me to be a girl or a drag queen?"

"No. We want you to be yourself , just with the world s perception a bit altered. Brandi replaces Brad. Brandi, a fine boy somewhat like yourself, wears dresses to the prom and everyone thinks it is fine. Mom will think it s fine and normal and enjoy herself. Brandi dates Janet and they go together. Gram and I will handle the world s perception. You have to act convincingly. Tell Mom you need help with all the stuff you need to do. That will be the truth, you will need a lot of help. Your job is to be the role, and enjoy it. If you fake it, Mom will be able to tell. She can sense when her son is not genuine."

I was stunned. Gram talked now. "Bradley, we need to give Carolyn something back. She's had so much taken from her. And this will cost you nothing in the long run. You might even learn a few things."

I broke in. "So, you do your magic stuff and I wake up as Brandi, Mom gets me dressed, and Janet and I go. I guess I can do this for a day. Does Janet go dressed like a guy?"

"We would never do that to Janet, she will just find you stunning. I'm sure she will make sure your outfits will coordinate. But the prom process is not one night for the mother. It begins now."

Two months? I have to be this Brandi guy for two months?" I said. I was getting convinced that they had been doing heavy pharmaceuticals. But this was also Gram and she was no fool.

"It will be a gradual transition, made to seem natural and help to ease you into the part. We will be there to help you along the way. Now will you do this? Please think it over, we ll come back in a bit." Gram said. She and Sandy kissed me on the forehead and left, closing my door.

Chapter 5: The Things You Do For The Ones You Love

My mind was in overdrive. It was a lot to digest, but you need to understand. These two could stare down a shark. They were tough-minded. They would never joke about anything like this. Not with Mom involved. Some people might use my feelings of grief over Mom for fun, but not Sandy and not Gram. So they fully believed what they had said. The question was, did I?

My next train of thought was, so what? It either was true or it wasn t. If it was a delusion on their part, then what was the difference? Just do it. Gram and even Sandy had always been there for me. If it was true, then maybe it would help Mom . I meant it when I said I would do anything. Case closed.

So they came back in. Gram told me she was happy with my decision. Sandy kissed and hugged me.

Gram gave me a last chance to back out. She was very even in her tone. "Bradley, I want you to know this will be as uncomfortable as you make it on yourself. A lot of what you need to do will go against your own self image. If you fight it, you will fail to be convincing and your Mother will probably feel confused. This effort carries the risk of prolonging her situation. You must embrace the reality changes that come at you, go with them and enjoy them. I promise you no one will ridicule you. Except yourself. When it is all over, we will put it all back together. You will be fine and yourself .again, but maybe a little wiser. Tell me again, do you commit to giving this your best?"

The family value. My Dad and Mom had drilled into us that we should never do anything half-assed. It was ingrained in our brains. "Yes, Gram. Let's do it."

Gram asked me if I was fully unclothed under the sheet. I said yes. Good, that was required. I was told to close my eyes, and relax. Gram and Sandy would do some rituals and then Sandy would stay and Gram would go by Mom's side. All I had to do was keep my eyes closed and if sleep came, don't fight it. Then just get on with my life.

I listened to Sandy and Gram whisper but could not make out what they said. My eyes were closed and the whispering kept getting quieter. Then it was just Sandy whispering in my ear. I still could not understand what she said. Then sleep came.

Chapter 7: I m Glad We Didn t Have To Do That

Looking in the bathroom mirror my teeth seemed clean enough. It was coming back to me, the ridiculous dream from last night, Gram, Sandy, witchcraft. I shook it off. Sandy was banging on the door telling me to get out soon. Life seemed pretty normal.

Downstairs Gram had out a platter of scrambled eggs and Mom was making toast. She seemed just a little more animated today. Maybe this was a good sign. Small steps and Mom would be back.

I ate my eggs and had coffee with Mom. She told me to get with Janet and straighten out the prom situation, time was getting critical. She smiled. She told me Janet and I made a great couple and Gram agreed. The conversations from yesterday continued - I filed it in my head that way. I agreed to see Janet today at school. As I left for school with the precious keys to the SUV I heard Mom tell Gram she was going to spend the day getting her sewing room back into order. That was great, she was starting to get interested in her old hobbies.

School was uneventful, except Janet pulled me aside at lunch and asked if I had a date for the prom yet. I told her no so she just said she would love to go with me. That was easy. Of course I agreed. Mom had seemed focused on it and it was the least I could do, plus I really did like Janet. It was time we started getting together.

The Prom Committee had issued the theme, the calendar and the sub-committees which needed volunteers. The school was buzzing with who was asking who and so on. Janet told me she had put my name in for decorations. No problem. Hang some crepe, handle the ladders for the girls.

As the day wore on, a few guys talked about who they might ask to the event. There was a lot of kidding back and forth, typical guy stuff. They didn't ask me, they already knew I was going with Janet. I was told that was great, Janet was a great girl.

I never knew how much of a frenzy this was for the girls. I knew they worked themselves up with the matchmaking process, a microcosm of adult life, like much of high school. By the end of the day, girls I barely knew had come up to me, told me they heard I was going with Janet, gushed about what a lovely couple we were, and asked me if I had figured out what I was going to do. I wasn t sure what they meant so I was vague, like I guess I'll start looking around . That got giggles and grins and they all told me I was lucky and they were sure we would look great. It seemed like they thought I was making a joke. I dismissed it as girl dementia.

I was giving Janet a ride home but I had to get the SUV back for Gram so we had little time. On the way she told me she was thinking of a dusty rose color scheme for her ensemble. I nodded and kept driving. She came back and said would I have any trouble coordinating? I said no, thinking how hard could it be to match a shirt on a tux to her dress. Janet laughed and said I was hopeless but we would look great together. She kissed me and got out at her house.

When I came in it looked like a rerun of yesterday. Gram and Sandy talking and smiling at me. I had put all of last night firmly into the dream category. I was tempted to tell them about it, but it seemed so silly. Plus they had really good news.

"Bradley, your mother has been on the phone with Janet's mother for half the day. She's been more outgoing than I've seen her since she got back." Gram said.

This was great. I guessed they were talking about the prom. I realized then that Janet must have called it into the girl network within seconds.

Sandy added "They are working out the color scheme. I think they have a plan and I suggest you defer to them, Brad."

"Why not? Let them have fun." I said. Sandy smiled.

Mom was looking much better over dinner. She actually initiated conversations, and went on about how it felt good to get back to sewing. She did ask me to stand up later and took measurements. She used to make lots of clothes, so this was hardly unusual. I remember being a kid and squirming when she used to do this, but it felt so good, like a fond old memory. This was the Mom I remembered.

I was swamped with homework, having to finish a paper for Economics class, so I excused myself and went up to my PC. An hour later, Mom knocked. She entered, carrying a large book.

"Bradley, do you have a minute? I d like to ask your opinion on these." Mom said, looking cheerful.

I told her sure, I needed a break anyway. She opened the huge book on the floor. It contained girl's formal dresses and sewing patterns available. Mom and Janet's mother had agreed to work together on some prom gowns and she wanted to look over some with me. My Mom had a reputation as a great clothesmaker. She could have been a top fashion designer, but she used to say it would lose all the pleasure if she did it for a living.

Now normally, before her ordeal, I would have whined and tried to get out of it, but she was so happy and focused I sat on the floor of my room patiently looked over at least half of the designs which she had marked with paperclips. I even commented on how nice some would look on Janet. She sometimes agreed and sometimes gave me her opinion and why it might not be, like too frilly or not showing her figure correctly. She sat next to me and put her arm around me. I hugged her back. She went on a bit on which gowns might complement each other. I had never thought girls would worry about that but it made as much sense as anything else I knew about formal dress occasions, which was little to nothing.

Mom kissed my cheek and got up. "Brad, I ve taken up your homework time, I ll go now. Thanks for the help, I had fun."

I felt good after she left. Maybe my dream had been telling me to just let my Mom enjoy my prom some, and she could partially adopt Janet for the girly stuff. I just had to sit through it and act interested, which was easy as seeing her smile was great incentive. It was easier than crawling through broken glass, and I would have done that to ease her pain.

Sandy stopped by. She told me she was happy that Mom had focused in on the prom.

"Good going, little brother. Just keep her happy." She said as she left. I felt great.

Chapter 8: The Adventure Begins

Morning again. Groggy but moving. Brain still in hibernate state. Lucky day, Sandy is leaving our bathroom. Water on face. Brain booting up. Look in mirror. Error.

I was staring back, but it was me with three inches of hair growth on my head. I touched it. Still there. I also noticed I did not have to shave, not that I was a regular shaver yet, but I did need to at least twice a week (Okay maybe once a week I really needed to, but I did it twice a week). I looked down and realized I did not need to shave anywhere. Chest, back, legs all smooth with just a little under my arms. I opened the towel and saw my crotch still had hair. Then I looked up and in the mirror I saw a grinning Sandy behind me. I rapidly redid the towel.

"What." Was all I got out before she put her finger to her lips, indicating I should shut up.

"Enjoying looking yourself over, Brandi?" Sandy said. It all came back. I had assumed it was a weird dream and now I was living it.

"You and Gram were really there? Its all true?" I got out.

"Yes. You were great yesterday but today it gets a little harder." Sandy said. She told me to shower and gave me bottles of both her shampoo and conditioner. Instructions followed on shampoo use, How long to leave in the conditioner. How to comb. Brush. Things to avoid. She said to meet me in my room and hurry I had to get ready for school.

Showered, conditioned, deodorized and in my towel, my bare feet take me back to my room. Sandy is sitting on the edge of my bed wearing her nightgown, her long brown hair up in huge rollers. My room had changed. There is now a table with a mirror with lights around it. Another mirror on a stand, also with lights is on the tabletop, with an upright chair in front.

"I'm going to help you today, but you need to do this stuff on autopilot and fast, so pay attention." Sandy said. "Just relax and go with this. Don t get all anxious. Mom is doing great already, so you need to focus on that. Now put these on and then I ll help you with your hair." She threw some white underwear and black socks at me.

The underwear looked like an undershirt and shorts but it was different. The undershirt was sleeveless, like the old fashioned kind you saw in the movies, but was loose fitting rather than snug, and only came down to exactly even with my waist. The material was smooth, kind of satiny. The shorts felt like women's panties but cut for a guy. Same satiny material and smooth all over. I could still pass a not to close inspection in a locker room. The socks were like regular men's nylon dress socks, thin and just a little transparent. They came up over my knee. I just got dressed. Go with the flow. Remain calm.

Sandy had me sit on the chair in front of the mirror. She then showed me the right way to blow dry my hair, to add a little volume . I wasn't that bad a student, and she gave me some praise. The only problem with the finished result, other than it looked a bit too full to me, was the front, Three inches of hair hung past my eyebrows, even with some volume it was annoying. Sandy looked at me and told me to watch what she did. She pulled the bangs to each side and used some bobby pins, then some hairspray. It looked better.

"Brandi, your hair is in that annoying state when you let it grow out, but this should work for now." Sandy said. I did notice the name she used but I let it slide.

"Sis, this looks a little" I started.

"Too feminine? That s the plan. Now don t worry, Gram and I will handle it all. Just focus on Mom. You are her great son who she is going to help have a wonderful prom. Now things around you are going to change some, like I said, just go with it. Most of it won t hurt a bit and it's ok to enjoy it. In fact, you better enjoy it or this won't work. So now go into your closet and find the light blue shirt and navy blue pants outfit I have on a hanger. And bring out your dress shoes."

My closet seemed bigger somehow. There seemed to be a few new shirts and pants. I was in too much of a hurry to examine the inventory. Along with the shirt and pants Sandy had put there I grabbed my dress shoes, which were plain black loafers, now gleaming like polished mirrors.

The shirt was tailored just like a regular men s dress shirt and fit me just a touch towards looser than snug. It was silk and I got lots of warnings from Sandy about silk. The buttons were also fabric covered, something I had not noticed at first. At least it buttoned on my usual side.

The pants were very tight and had only one pocket, non functional. They were comfortable, being some percentage of stretch (about 90% I theorized) , and showed off every square millimeter of my butt.

The front of my crotch was flattened , just like a new pair of jeans would do.

I looked at my regular stuff, comb, keys, swiss army knife, pen, wallet and realized I had no place to put it.

Sandy produced a new bookpack, black leather and not too functionally dissimilar to my scuffed and worn old canvas one. Much more expensive with the name of a leather goods maker that even the fashion oblivious like me had heard of before.

"Brandi, you will need to carry your regular things here. Just do it as pockets are not part of your life for a while, ok?" I nodded. She added some new essentials, a hairbrush, some bobby pins and clips, a small hairspray, a pocket mirror. I hoped I could actually fit books in my bookpack while she started adding my new critical supplies , but she stopped at those few items.

I looked at myself. Not that bad, Bod shows off well, maybe overcomes the foo foo hair. I normally wore more casual shirts and jeans to school. The girls used to dress down but nothing in women's fashion ever stays put. They had trended towards more fashionable looks over the last few years. I was ready to go downstairs and eat.

Sandy had other ideas. "Brandi - I help you, you help me. Please help me with my hair."

She guided me through taking out her rollers and combing out her hair into something a little more done than her regular style. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders to mid back and I had somehow managed to have it come out wavier with a pronounced curl at the ends. With a lot of her patient help. A lot. Hairdressers all over the world must have relaxed. The kid's got potential but he'll never make it to the majors. No competition.

Go with the flow. I was adding new skills I never planned on acquiring. Sandy mentioned to me to not eat my usual twenty pound breakfast as that shirt fit me perfectly right now.

Go with the flow. Relax. Breathe. Starving for Mom. Good Cause.

Down at breakfast Mom kissed me and told me I looked nice. Gram concurred saying she was glad to see the schoolkids were not dressing as much like slobs as they had been. I ate sparingly, as after a half a serving I could feel the shirt getting tighter. Sandy came down looking great. She was seeing some friends from college who were in town.

"Sandy, you changed your hair. It looks really good." Mom said, smiling.

"Brandi did the comb out for me. He did it better than I could alone." Sandy said, grinning at me. She had set me up. And called me Brandi again. Relax, Breathe.

"Bradley, you have some hidden talent. I'm glad you're growing yours out for the prom. Sandy owes you some help now." Mom's eyes brightened and I melted. She was coming back to us!

"I already promised. I'm picking up some stuff for him on my way home, Mom." Sandy said sweetly. I wondered what that meant but I had to go. I was riding with Janet today.

Chapter 8: Popular Dude

Janet loved that my hair was growing out. She had all kinds of ideas I should try, mostly involving sets, lotions and implements of torture. She grabbed my butt on our way into school, some kind of primitive possession ritual. I got the message.

The guys were oblivious. They were all there, in jeans and pullover shirts and acted like nothing was different. I got a lot of arm poking, Brandi's the man stuff about going with Janet. One guy asked if I had gotten a haircut. I told him no, my sister had helped with it. They all nodded appreciatively at the mention of Sandy, whose very name still inspired awe in your average seventeen year old boy at that school. I was blessed. They were jealous. Brandi s the Man!

The girls were friendlier, more open. They commented on my shirt. They liked the new bag. After one class two of them grabbed my arm and said my hair needed fixing . We went into the girl's restroom. Nobody acted like anything was wrong. I went to get out my brush but they beat me to it. A practiced quick draw which would rival an experienced knife fighter. They had managed to put it back in order in less than twenty seconds. Damn, I was way slow on this stuff. They started to check their makeup and one asked if I had any mascara. Before I could answer, the other girl handed her a tube. Beat me to it. Not that I had any. At least I didn't think so. We left and went to our next classes.

The teachers acted like nothing was different except the one who taught English Lit. She liked my shoes and asked where she could get a pair of flats like that.

I found out that I needed to check my hair a lot more often. I had to fix the pins and reapply hairspray. Sandy was right, it was at that annoying stage.

Gram and Sandy had made this easy. No hassles, every female seemed to want to help me, hell they treated me like one of them. I was still one of the guys. It was monumentally Weird.

More homework that night. Mom showed me more gowns from the book. Apparently no actual decision is ever made the first time. Once you have winnowed down a list, things have a way of getting back on the list. I guess it's supposed to be so much fun, you just can t bear to finish the process. I began to realize she was making one for me, not just for Janet. I don t know how I missed that the last time. You hear what you assume.

I got into it. Why not. It made her visibly happy and Sandy had told me to go with it.

Two days later, my hair was between six and seven inches long when I got up. Sandy viewed this as some kind of milestone and pulled out a set of hot curlers. After a minor ordeal in which she had me do most of the work. I had what Sandy called a pageboy. To me it was a mass of curls hovering just at my shoulders. The undershirt had been replaced by what she called a camisole with thin straps and lace trim. The panties were a match. In white. Under a white silk shirt and off white pants. With a side zipper. Today she added a thin gold necklace she called a choker. Sheer black knee high socks and open toed sandals. White sandals of course. Sandy surveyed her work and pronounced it good.

Mom and Gram were bubbly about my near total (I felt) girlification. Mom touched my bouncy hair and gave me a big hug.

Janet liked the look and told me to be careful about the white outfit. She loved the camisole, which I then realized was totally visible through the shirt. Before we left my car, she had touched up my lips with her lipstick and then just handed it to me, saying she had another.

The guys acted again like there was nothing strange. I became used to being called Brandi or Bran to my close friends. The girls always would make it a point to group around me when I entered a room.

How did I feel? Weirded out. Relax. Breathe. Go With The Flow.

I started using the girl s room for fixing my appearance, as they had mirrors and facilities which were useful. Besides, side zippers make a urinal problematic. Plus, there were always girls there willing to help, equipped with every device, lotion and potion known to the world of beauty and fashion. I heard every bit of gossip about everybody. I even passed some on.

Chapter 9: Lines Of Demarcation, Lines Of Hem

Friday. Day four of Brandi. Sandy came in as usual and told me "Brandi, I am impressed. You are ready for another hurdle. Gram told me you'd adapt, after all you are from our family. I was skeptical, but that's because older sisters are supposed to be. Today you shave your legs and wear a skirt to school." She looked at me for a reaction. I had seen this coming and knew she was goading me. If I had needed coaxing, she would have coaxed. It was no big deal. The girl's room, that had been hard to do. But all this stuff was offset every time I saw Mom.

So she helped with the legs, and the pits. Damn. Now I know what razor burn really is.

The hair was just past shoulder length by a little, and today I was told to let it rest from hot rollers. Just brush and a little conditioner. It was falling naturally now and I only needed hair clips if I wanted to keep it back. It still had quite a bit of curl left. New camisole, more like a short slip, Sandy said. Panties cut for men, Pantyhose cut for men, with a control top. Sandy told me she decided not to use a padded girdle yet. Silk blouse. My First Skirt. Pleats. Just above the knee.

I tried to plead out on the shoes. "Sandy, let me get used to the skirt. Not the shoes too."

Sandy was adamant. "Oh quit whining. These are low heels and you need to get used to them. It takes a while to get comfortable in heels."

I asked her how long it took her. She laughed and said she ' tell me when it happened. Great. Just what I wanted to hear.

I came downstairs, a little wobbly but getting the hang of the heels. Sandy had given me the basic Life In A Skirt 101, but I knew the behavior was far from automatic. Still, I persevered. To make the situation truly ironic, Sandy was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with sneakers. I wanted to strangle her.

Mom and Gram were waiting downstairs with my breakfast of fruit and yogurt. Gram grinned but made no comment. Mom took a look and lit up. She praised me for taking the time to look ladylike. She was glad her son cared about his appearance. She was giving Sandy a subtle (not that subtle, really) shot. Sandy grinned at me and said she was jealous. The sheer insanity of this conversation was hard to take. But I kept a straight face and focused on not falling off the heels. Then it got worse.

"Bradley (I had gone from Bradley/Brad to Bradley/Brandi.) are you wearing lipstick?" Mom asked. I was. Janet liked it on me and if I neglected to wear it, every girl in the school would be putting some on me. Like branding a steer.

"Yes Mom. A lot of kids do at school." Lame, I know, but you are never creative and witty under stress.

"Well, it looks a little lonely there. Sandy, do you have some mascara handy?" Mom asked. Sandy, smirking so hard I thought she would choke, quickly provided some, and some eye liner. Mom and Sandy now got into makeover mode. I was the crash test dummy, never asked an opinion but told to keep still. Gram gave advice from the sidelines. About fifteen minutes later Sandy, Mom and Gram are surveying the masterpiece. I look in the hall mirror. It is fairly subdued except for the eyes. My eyes looked about fifty percent bigger, with very pronounced lashes. At least the eye shadow wasn't overdone. I worried that there was no way I could maintain this at school without a lot more practice.

"Ok, Sandy we ve had our fun. Brandi you look gorgeous but it is a bit much for school. (actually it was less than most girls wore to school). Sandy, help your brother tone it down and stock his bag. He ll need some more essentials." Mom was back, in charge in her old way. "Oh Brandi, I want to talk to you tonight about some things for the prom. We need to get busy. This weekend."

Sandy dragged me upstairs to her room, closed the door and rolled on her bed laughing. At first I blushed, got angry, realized I was merely annoyed and then her laughter became contagious. I started to giggle, the joined her in laughter.

"Brandi, you are the best sport I have ever seen. I love you, kid." Sandy hugged me.

Now I got a short course in face painting, girl style. I had the lipstick thing down pretty well, I thought.

"Christ, Brandi where did you learn to do your lips like that? You look like a such a tease!" Sandy said. I told her I had seen it in an old movie.

"Fine, don t change. Just don't be surprised if some boys have to leave the room suddenly when you do that." Sandy said.

"I know. I am a boy. But it feels like the right way to do it." I retorted.

"I like your attitude girlfriend. Now let's get this done. First some foundation..:" Sandy tried to keep it simple but there was no way as every component built on the preceding. Foundation, powder, eye shadow. All stuff she did on autopilot. She finally gave up and had me use just some mascara and lipstick. I was then instructed to practice every evening with all of options. My bag now got more stuff. I also realized I had to check my appearance regularly. I mean girl regularly, like every ten to fifteen minutes, not boy regularly of once a week.

School was incredible. I was in almost total drag and still got treated like one of the guys. Try sittimg on a locker room bench, refreshing your lipstick, working on not crossing your legs like a guy and having the other guys include you in the discussion of what some girl might be like under her dress. Trust me girls, this is a high compliment. Seventeen year old boys view this discussion like discovering the New World. The world is not flat. Now, this was becoming difficult for me as I had seen what was under there (girls room , remember?) and I was one of the girls too. Both sides seemed to trust me to be discrete and only keep my gossip along same gender lines. I could talk about girls to girls, but not to boys. But I could listen to the boys but not disclose who was the fantasy of the week to the girls. I felt like an intersexual go between.

Janet as usual was turned on by the outfit, enthusiastically so. We had a date that night, right after the prom committee meetings. But first I had to see Mom after school.

Chapter 10: Mom s Excellent Prom Adventure

While the week at school had gone by, Primary Mission was going to plan. Mom was on the job. She was lining up Moms and Dads to handle the finances, get discounts set up for tux rentals, limos, restaurants, hair, nail and dress establishments. The conspiracy of parents made sure the secret prom parties would be held at homes or locations which met at least some minimal criteria. All this while designing at least two original dresses. And coaching her son into the secrets of beauty, woman style. With lots of help from Sandy and Gram.

What amazed me was how a really smart and common sense practical woman could just accept the premise that her son just started to dress, act and in general look like a babe, with everyone accepting it as perfectly normal. I guess this version of reality was appealing to her right now. I hoped it was not this way forever, as these heels were killing me.

Mom and I got to do a lot of mother- daughter (mother son, dammit) stuff. Talking about hair, Janet , school, clothes. But it was now getting serious.

Mom sat me down and she told me her plan. I was still in my skirt and was proud of myself for getting the sitting right. Now Mom did not just say Here s the plan, idiot. Any questions? No , she said the same thing in a lot of words which made me feel great. The net result was the same. Mother talk. I had figured out Mom believed I was new to all of this, the hair, makeup, clothes. That made it a whole lot easier. She was in mother mode, helping me along. The only way I could screw it up was to appear insincere about what I was doing. So I told myself to want to do this. I would 'Enjoy Being A Girl.'

Now the plan. Mom needed Janet and I to settle on close to final dress designs by the next two weeks, so she was taking us to several boutiques next weekend, to try on gowns. We were getting very serious. We could buy ones we liked or let her improve on the design.

Next I needed to build a relationship with a hairdresser so Mom had set up weekly appointments with one both she and Sandy agreed on. She wanted a majority rule on this issue and through some obscure clause in the girl rules, Gram did not get a vote on this one. Maybe she was senior league and could no longer play on that level. I bet they retired her number.. I knew I really did not have a vote other than to pout, which was blindingly ineffectual with Mom. I knew that from being her son when younger and doubted a girl got any more slack.

Then there was a surprise. Janet ' parents had invited Mom and I to a sit down dinner. A week from Sunday. Not casual. Mom's tone on 'Not Casual ' told me volumes, but I could only read half of them. I would ask Sandy later for translation. Oh yes and Sandra was invited too, as Janet's older brother was home for the weekend. Parent matchmaking. I happened to know Janet s older brother Bill was gay. Handsome, witty, a damn good quarterback and gay. Bill and Sandy were good friends. Bill did not deny being gay but his parents had a don't ask policy and Bill never pushed his preference in anyone's face.

Now for the next discussion. Mom wanted to know what I wanted to do about my bustline. I got really embarrassed and turned several shades of red. Mom held me and said she could make the gown work any way I wanted. But did I want to emphasize my differences on Prom Night? Or did I want her to provide some help? (Translation did I want to be pretty but flat chested or blend in and compete on looks with the girls. Take the game to them.) I finally figured out an answer

." I wonder what Janet would like?" I said. Mom had me. Apparently this had been gamed out and I assume Janet consulted.

" Janet said she wants you to feel beautiful. So what do you think?" Mom returned my lob with an overhand smash. Back to me.

"I just don t know. Let me talk it out for a while." I called time out. I had learned girls don't want to think things over, they talk things over. I had escaped temporarily. Mom was impressed. I was learning the rules.

Next item. Easy one. Mom and I were going out window shopping two nights next week.

Last item. Mom dropped this one, now the all important Boob issue was tabled. "Bradley, when you go out and try on gowns next week we need to help you with the fit on them. I can handle your figure when I make the dress but you will need some bodyshapers for trying on the ones off the rack. I've asked Sandy to take you out for these." Now, according to the rules, I had two choices. Plan A: Pout and complain about being called fat and get assurance and a hug, or Plan B: just thank Mom and hug her. Tell her you'd been embarrassed to ask. Reinforce her Mom image. Plan B worked great. I was tied on style points.

Prom committee was short. I had moved to the managerial ranks, the guys being the unskilled labor, given a role at the last second. I was now an honorary girl and part of the decisions on balloons, streamers, and such. Advanced strategic concepts like color scheme and theme were the reserve of a select few girls, Janet being the leader. So my job was to round up the guys and get them where they were needed. I told them that job required more attraction than I had. They all laughed and told me I would have them kissing my feet. I guess I did know a few buttons to push with the guys.

I now had one hour to eat something and get ready for a date with Janet. Fortunately I had Sandy.

Sandy laughed at pairing up with Bill. She would enjoy it.

"Bran, Mom's 'Not Casual' means really done up, but just short of formal. Dress to impress but not to seduce. I would say killer hair, nails, face and dress for a family dinner. We are going to make the family look good. I expect you and Mom will find a really pretty dress while you are casually window shopping next week."

She continued. "Mom actually asked for help on the hairdresser so I steered her to Sally at Dressed With Skill salon. I already talked to her and she'll be gentle. Just do not piss her off, but don t let her sell you on something you really don t want. You and I will go out on Thursday for the bodyshapers. I know just the place.

"All that's fine, but what about." I started but Sandy cut me off.

"Your boobies? Ok now, forget Mom for a minute. Can you handle this? I mean it. I don t want you to get so freaked out it ruins your composure." Sandy went, really looking at me with some sympathy.

"Oh, damn. What s the difference? Why look like 90% of a girl. I can handle some assistance in that area. Do whatever. Just let s not talk it to death, Ok? I really didn t care anymore."

Sandy gave me a hug and said she would handle it. They she helped me get ready. Makeup for date night. So, in my sprayed on jeans and top with spaghetti straps, three inch heels and pony tail I was ready for the movies. Sandy let me borrow a purse and a sweater.

Janet picked me up and we had a great time. The movie was good too.

Chapter 11: New Developments

Monday morning. I woke up with breasts. Not big ones but they were there. Sandy was there in a flash. She really was concerned I would freak out but the cumulative effect of the last week had made this anti climactic. All I wanted to know was How Big Would They Get. And I wanted Sandy's assurance that no one would make fun of me.

"Sandy, I had sort of assumed some falsies of some kind. These look pretty real. How can no one notice?" I said. My rollers were loose again, I must have added another inch during the night. And I noticed my nails were longer. Sandy had told me to let them grow, as nails were an important accessory to my overall look.

"Well Brandi, my little brother, falsies are a pain and no fun. Plus this will give you the maximum flexibility in choosing clothes. How big would you like them? You re about an A cup now, on your way to B." Sandy said, relieved I was taking this so well.

"How big would you say Janet was?" I grinned.

"You are a nasty little bitch! Ok I have it on good authority that she may be a 38 C. You will be about a 42 fill in the blank."

"What s the next size up, a D I assume?" I said. Why not. I was going to enjoy this. I might as well compete fully loaded.

"You got it sister. Now this will take about two weeks and you are going to need some bras. I just happened to have a few with me. Also, the boys will be a bit in awe of you. They will still be friendly but will act like you might break if they touch you, like glass. Be gentle with them. Promise me." Sandy was serious.

" Okay, I already know all their buttons. It's an unfair advantage. I promise." I answered, seriously this time.

Hair, nails, skin care, makeup. Bra, Panties, Pantyhose, Slip. Skirt and Blouse. And the damned heels. Check everything twice. Check purse, bookbag. It was the difference between throwing a balsa wood glider and launching a spacecraft. Sandy made sure my bra was somewhat outlined under my blouse. She loaned me a necklace and sprayed some perfume on me. I was ready for Mom.

Mom made no comment. I knew she saw my new development, but she was cautious. Sandy had coached me earlier.

"Mom, I need you to look at something." I said, actually trembling for the first time. I still worried I would be rejected as a freak.

We went up to my room and I showed her my breasts. She held my hand and said all of her family had developed late and I was no exception. I would be fine. She would help out with letting out some of my blouses and shopping for new ones. She also told me I was her beautiful son and I would be a knockout. It felt wonderful. Mothers are among the most powerful forces in the known universe.

She said we would go shopping tonight.

My breasts became the talk of the school, some of it actually to my face. The girls were supportive and told me stories. The boys were my friends but I could already sense I would have to get used to them not making eye contact right away. Sandy decided I needed heel practice so it was to be skirts or dresses at least three days out of five during the week.

Janet was starting to scare me. We had arrived at school separately and I ran into her outside between buildings. The wind was up that day and it was messing up our hair, so we got into a sheltered spot. She reached out and gently touched my breast with an extended finger. They were not large but obvious under my blouse encased in a bra. My nipples came to attention and it felt very strange. Janet broke into tears. She went on about how she had hoped I would finally develop in time for the prom. We were going to look fabulous together. I started to tear up myself. This girl really cared about me. Standing back from this scene it would seem very weird but through the emotional lens we were looking through, it was really happy. Mascara running happy. After we repaired each others makeup we went on to class. Janet was talking about the surprise family dinner we had been invited to, going on about how her parents just wanted to get to know us. Mom was a bit notorious, and Gram had a reputation as that crazy old lady. I know Gram had carefully constructed that reputation and took great delight in inflicting it on the town. Janet's folks were really rich and while not stuffy, they were just cautious. I didn't hold it against them. They hadn't blackballed my family, they wanted to meet us, but formally, on their turf. All teams have to play away games.

"Brandi, they really want to get to know you better." Janet went on.

"They just want to make sure I'm not some gold digger trying to take their daughter." I joked.

Janet laughed. "There's a little of that too. Also, our Moms are spending a lot of time together and I think they like each other. Dad isn't here much so he wants to size you up."

"I was thinking of a trailer trash theme for what I would wear." I went on, tickling Janet in various places I had learned from my terrain mapping exercises in the back of the SUV.

Janet giggled and could not contain herself. She thought that was funny as hell. She went on to describe what I could wear, how to do my hair, shoes to really look trashy. I got into the act and we were both having a great mutual joke. We were a great couple.

Shopping with Mom was different. I felt like one of those intrepid explorers with the pith helmet, straining in every muscle through the trackless jungle. Mom, on the other hand was like the native guides. She could walk the explorer into the ground while balancing all the supplies on her head, and grin a big grin while doing it. She was tireless. My feet hurt and she had even let me wear sneakers (as long as I had pantyhose on. We might try some things on). I think it was the fact that you could never be off duty while shopping for female clothes. You always had to be scanning the horizon for that perfect item, the elusive prey. And like a Tigress, once you had the prey, you devoured it into a shopping bag and kept scanning for the next one. Guys went shopping only when they had to and then for something specific. Find something in the general specification in the first store, bag it and go look at the girls in the mall. Scanning endlessly. And why do women shop for clothes endlessly? To give the guys something to scan. The universe is complex in its symmetry.

I had begun to approach my situation as Project: Enjoy Being A Girl . In order to succeed in my Mission: Give Mom Something She Needs I realized I would have to make everything ingrained into reflex. Checking Appearance. How Do I Look. Keep your hair and skirt out of car doors and other things. Make Up (books on that one. I just followed Keep It Simple) Hair (I actually was getting good at doing the styling. Sandy said I should consider it for a living, I was a natural) Skirt behavior. Eating. (Treating all foods as the natural enemy of your wardrobe) Doing anything with nails (I had resolved that mine were staying at a half inch or less). Bras. Bras were hard to get used to. Being honest, I think it was the contents. Protecting your chest required new reflexes, counter to the ones I had. It was the hardest thing to overcome.

During our several shopping trips, I took endless treks examining dresses for Mom (She actually seemed to want to make me feel that my opinion of a dress on her was important. I guess it was, as she was going to be involved in the Chaperone and Parent's Committee events during the prom. So I got into it.) She got my ears pierced and had me pick several earrings. She was bubbly, my ears stung. But the gold hoops were nice. Sandy was right, we did mysteriously find a really pretty dress for Sunday at Janet s house., silk, sleeveless, just above the knees. The skirt was well fitted and not loose and I did not quite fill the bust. Mom told me we'd give my figure a little help. I also got my first pearls. And several purses. And shoes. And we had a great time sitting over cappuccinos at various places. Mom was acting like a regular person, engaged with life. She was focused on something outside her pain and that was me.

Chapter 12: Bend Me, Shape Me, Any Way You Want Me

Thursday afternoon. I have been on the phone with Janet for a half an hour. She keeps dropping hints about coming along with Sandy and me for our shopping trip. I am embarrassed enough about going girdle shopping and I really wanted to keep the crowds and photographers to a minimum. I had not told Janet where we were going. I know Sandy has not talked as I actually threatened her (something like If you tell anyone I won t ever forgive you Real tough) and begged her to keep this between us sisters. Sandy made a promise and you can bank on that. She would not reveal it under extreme torture or a lifetime of bad hair days. So I am in my room, applying a new coat of polish to my nails, down to my bra and panties with my hair up in a scrunchie, talking to my girlfriend, trying to find a nice way to ditch her for the evening.

"Janet starts laughing. Brandi, you are so funny. There is no way I'd take my boyfriend along to the Body Shop. I d take Bill, but he's special. I just wanted to see if you'd react the same way. I'm flattered. Go with Sandy, you'll have a great time. Love you, bye, got another call!"

I said my byes and thought. The only way she knew was Mom told her Mom. I weighed the decision of whether to have a Moootthhheerrr!!! scene where the offended daughter takes her grievance out formally, in the proscribed ritualistic fashion. Usually the grievance is telling any other woman and therefore the entire known universe something personal and embarrassing. It was kind of like those medieval scenes where the peasants petition the King to stop trampling them into the ground as the King's Men ride through their village. The King ponders, and then we know what kind of King he is. If he agrees to only trample the peasants on weekdays, the village rejoices. What a good King!. If he has the petitioners beheaded and then trampled into the ground, the village rejoices. What a strong King we have!

I decided that Mom deserved the whole Prom experience. I put on my nightgown, carefully as my nails were not fully dry, and paddled downstairs to petition the Queen.

Sandy was there, looking really good in a blue dress with patterned hose. Her hair was nicely done in her regular style and she had her daytime warpaint on. She had explained to me that One Does Not Wear Pants Or Other Casual Clothes When Inside The Body Shop . She was waiting for me to get ready so we could leave.

Mom and I performed the ritual. I actually had caught her and Mom was always gracious when she lost. She admitted she had talked about our plans today with Janet's mother, forgetting that with Janet and I as boyfriend /girlfriend it might be a little embarrassing. She said things today are complicated (Complicated? Crossdressing Boy-Girlfriend? Who would have thought it would be complicated?) and she was sorry. Could I ever forgive her? Like I wasn t going to forgive her. She was good. She had taken defeat and run it right up to the edge of victory by guilt. What A Good Queen We Have! I started laughing. Sandy joined in and Mom did too. Gram came in to see what the fuss was about. Sandy chased me upstairs to get ready.

The Body Shop was one of those places which understood the need for social rules. One of the problems in modern society is we have abandoned in the name of personal convenience many of the things which put the little details of life into a common experience. My Dad used to talk about how, when airplane travel was considered a rare event it had an air of excitement and adventure. People dressed in suits and ties, dresses and hats just because they were on an airplane. It was a special experience. Now, people show up, are herded through and no one likes it. But nobody makes it special. People dress like slobs and act accordingly. He used to say we lost something. There are outposts of past civilizations, like the monasteries in the middle ages, keeping the old ways alive. They just want to exist honoring a way of life that is important to them. The Body Shop was an outpost of civility and style.. They had unspoken rules. I'm sure some women in jeans have shown up and been served, but not ever with more than pity and no invitation to return. The shop thrived because they knew one essential fact. Most Women Love To Dress Up. And modern times has decreased the number of places and occasions which require dressing up. Dressing up requires a super majority of the participants always dress up, without question. If enough dress down, then you will commit the sin of Overdressing.

Sandy brought me into the anteroom of the Body Shop. Our hair was perfect and she had made sure my face was up to her standards. She wore blue, I wore beige. I was now really good in my 3 inch stilettos, I had graduated to a full license. Sandy graded my road test and I was ready for the high speed lanes. We were greeted by an impeccably dressed woman named Melinda. She was somewhere between thirty and forty but presented herself towards to low end of that range.

Do not get me wrong. The women at the Body Shop were not condescending, or snooty. If you entered their world and made a sincere attempt to respect it, they were wonderful, friendly and delivered a great customer service experience. Just show respect. Not too hard to figure out.

There was minimal display and comfortable chairs. There were catalogues of their products on the coffee tables. Tea was served. Melinda put the pot down and said our Personal Assistant would be with us shortly. I did not know Sandy had made an appointment. I was quiet as a mouse, trying to be as poised as possible. Sandy was flipping through the catalogue, showing the latest in lingerie. I sipped my tea, trying not to slurp.

Mary, our Personal Assistant entered. Hair up, tasteful dress, and warm smile. She ushered us into a private room with several full length mirrors, high backed chairs and a changing screen in the corner. There was more tea. Mary asked us how she could help us today. Sandy, as agreed, took the lead.

"My little brother, Brandi will be trying on prom gowns and we have some new dresses to wear to a dinner party this weekend. He wants to try some foundation garments and see how they look". Sandy was exaggerating the meaning of the phrase wants to try .

Mary looked me over, asked me to please stand up, and then commented on what lovely hair I had.

"Brandi, do you do your own styling? It really looks great!" Mary gushed.

I nodded yes and gave credit to Sandy's help.

Sandy came back "Brandi doesn t need my help anymore. He does my hair now." It was somewhat true. Sandy wanted me to practice, so I had become her live in hairdresser.

Mary asked if she could bring out some items which she felt would be worth trying on.

I agreed. I was warming up to her. I was a male in a most feminine domain but I was playing by her rules. She appreciated that and made me feel at home. I went behind the screen and took off my dress.

I now paraded in front of Sandy and Mary in girdles, waist cinchers, all-in-ones, long line bras, garter belts . There was also a line of camisoles and bodystockings which provided support and control. Mary commented that I should try some more items which enhanced my hips and derriere, as I did need any help in the bust. Sandy agreed that I should try it, just to see. This was girl talk for you look like a boy from the waist down . Since I was now topped out in my C cups, at least they couldn t call me flat chested. Sandy had told Mary to allow for some growth in my breasts and Mary nodded to me.

"The late bloomers always get the pretty ones. You will look fabulous at the prom, especially if you emphasize these, Brandi dear." Mary said sweetly.

Now I tried on a series of the same garments but this time with subtle padding for my hips and butt. Sandy told me to put my dress back on for some of them. The effect was dramatic. I had thought I looked fine but now the dress hung like it had been intended. It was just enough the give me a slight but definite curve to my figure. The higher waisted girdles and the all-in-ones pinched in my middle to complement the effect. I looked like a real fox. And I could still breathe. I had had visions of bondage sessions, like those old fashioned corset lacing pictures, but Mary was very good at this. I was convinced she could sell to a three hundred pound five foot tall woman and convince her she barely needed any help, just some minor figure enhancements.

Sandy and I selected a selection of various items, in both black and white. Sandy insisted I get at least one pink bodystocking. Now Sandy joined me in the fun. We had to pick some nightgowns, negligees and sleep sets. And sports bra and panty sets. And slips and stockings. I also got a whole selection of padded panties which were cut for men but rounded my hips and butt. I wondered if I was the only man to come here and then doubted it. Even in a reality not twisted by Gram and Sandy, I wasn t the first guy to wear a dress. Mary recommended I come back in a week for resizing my bras, and defer purchases of any items affected other than what I would need this weekend. Sandy and I tried a whole bunch of brassieres, including some strapless models which seemed to defy several laws of Physics. I would pick up the balance of my new wardrobe next week. Sandy took hers now.

Mary had our purchases sent to Sandy's car and when I assumed we would be ushered out, very nicely, Mary ushered us to another room with very comfortable chairs, a view of the lake and flowerbeds with trays of very small appetizers. Wine was available, I was offered a soft drink. Mary sat down and chatted with us. She asked me about the prom, my date and sundry questions. She complimented my poise and manners. I complimented her on what a wonderful time we had. It was true. Sandy, Mary and I had had fun, joking, telling stories and some secrets. I knew this feeling Guys have it too, while playing ball, or digging a ditch. Bonding.

Chapter 13: Just Leave It To Me , Dearie

Saturday. Gram had had everything running smoothly at the house for years now and she was turning management back to Mom. Which meant a new boss for our chores. I had yard upkeep. In our family you weren't given a job like 'mow the lawn '. We were given ownership. I was responsible for how the yard looked and given an operating budget. There was extensive constructive advice when it looked bad. I had realized over time that this was not how most kids were raised. Their loss.; I had taught myself landscaping, and horticulture and could probably give pro greenskeepers a run for their money. Sandy was an accomplished chef. We formed a joint partnership one summer to paint the house. We were both taught auto repair before we could get a license. We never thought this was strange. If you needed to do something, you learned how and did it.

I got everything done I could and had hired a local kid to do some basic stuff. Mom had set my first hairdresser appointment in the early afternoon and had given me a budget increase until after the prom to get some help.

Sandy was busy and could not come with me, but she had assured me that good casual would be just fine. Mom had asked me if I would consider something up for tomorrow's dinner and I could tell this was a serious request. Another new experience. And I would have to learn to replicate it. It was the family expectation. I put my hair in two plaits, put on a pair of soft pants over my padded panties, and added a camisole top over my 42 C black bra. Matching sandals and I was on my way, after refreshing my makeup. I navigated the SUV over to Janet's house. She ran out, kissed me and gave me a quick feel up. She was not going to miss my first salon experience. I reached over to her side while driving, put my hand up her halter top and returned the favor. I got a pleasant cooing sound but had to put both hands back on the wheel to avoid a bus. I didn t even break a nail.

We rolled into the Dressed With Skill parking lot. Janet ran up behind me and whispered "Nice Ass, Boyfriend." in my ear. We entered and Sally waved me over. I knew it was Sally from her nametag, I have no idea how she knew me.

"You're Sandy s little brother! She told me to take care of you." Sally said in greeting. I introduced Janet who got a positive comment on her hairstyle. We got down to the process, wash, shampoo, condition. She was talking the whole time and I could see Janet suppressing a smirk while paging through a magazine. I told her I had a dinner party and said I was thinking of something simple but up. Janet broke into a grin. Her Mom wore it up most of the time. Sally showed me several pictures. She was steering me towards elaborate, with serious curls. I calmly listened, asked her about what it took to repeat the style myself and we both settled on a simple but elegant French twist. Sally recommended some hair jewelry for the occasion and agreed to let me see the process. She knew Sandy. My sister apparently always insisted on learning how to do any style herself. Like being able to rebuild your engine if it went wrong. Family values. I liked Sally, she was hysterically funny, especially when it came to town gossip. She also treated me like a guy, sort of. A stacked guy who was getting his hair done. Sally kidded Janet on what a catch I was. The nail professional(I never know what to call them They always seem to go by their first name rather than a title) came by and Janet and I debated extensions, but decided against it. Maybe closer to the prom, Janet advised. Sally agreed.

When it was done, I looked at myself. I looked so different. I felt different, lighter, maybe floating. Sally was proud of her work. I looked at it and thought it would only take two tries for me to do it myself. Janet was stunned. She just kept looking at me. She seemed happy. She grabbed my hand. She was happy. Sally gave me some care pointers, then handed me a bouffant satin cap which would keep the style and made me swear to use it. I swore, following Sandy s rule of Don t Piss Off Your Hairdresser . Sally pecked my cheek and I heard her start talking to the others as we left. They make a real cute couple.

Janet and I discussed some of the styles as prom potential. The discussion really boiled down to: do we both do it up, down or surprise each other. This discussion had been under way for a week. My hair had stopped its rapid growth just past mid back length, about four inches longer than Janet's. Janet asked me to hide the style from her folks until tomorrow, so I dropped her off and headed home. Mom was picking her up later so we could go dress shopping together.

Chapter 14: Queen of the Jungle

Mom, Janet and I headed for the malls. I found that the The Body Shop had spoiled me with customer service. Janet and I were in our jeans and sneakers, her hair in a pony tail and mine in the French twist looking through the racks of prom dresses. For an event which guaranteed they would move half their inventory, most of the stores were complete idiots about making us feel welcome. I was glad we were just there to give us ideas. I knew Mom was going to make my dress, I wanted it that way. The salesladies treated us like dirt until Mom walked in and cut a few to shreds with a quiet manner and the willingness to request the store manager. Mom wasn't in the mood to take crap from a bunch of twenty year old airheads.

Janet was in heaven. I think she tried on twenty gowns in five different stores. I was trying to find one which didn t make me feel naked.

Mom took me aside and said to me, very quietly "Bradley, you need to get more comfortable with your body. You will look as good or better than most of the girls there. And I have some ideas about using your hair to de-emphasize your shoulders. Focus them on the boobs. There you compete really well. So forget hiding anything and enjoy showing it off. Janet wants to show you off, so don't disappoint her."

My Mom said Boobs to me. That alone was rattling things. But she was right. What the hell, let ' show 'em off. I found a style I liked, and showed it to Mom, then Janet. They both were favorable so I tried it on.

I had on my padded all-in one with the low back which covered my panties. It had garters to hold up my stockings. I was outgrowing the cups. I would need to get back to the Body Shop soon. I stepped into the dress and put my arms through the thin straps. I asked Mom to zip me up. I did my turns for Janet and Mom.

Mom had never seen me in a gown. Neither had Janet. Heck, neither had I. With my hair up, the effect was pretty good. Mom teared up. Janet grinned. Nobody laughed. The dress swirled nicely when I moved.

Mom held my hand. After she had composed herself, she got practical.

"Brandi, it looks great. You are going to need to find a strapless bra which works with it, I think, especially if you get any larger there. Lets think about it."

I knew it was my dress. Mom knew it. She was already figuring the materials, trim and process to make it in her head. Janet wanted some more time, and to bring her Mom for the finals. She promised Mom a decision by Wednesday.

Chapter 15: Guess Who Is Coming To Dinner?

Sunday afternoon. Sandy, Mom and I are getting ready, three people and two bathrooms. A volatile mix. Sandy and Mom were floored with the French twist. Gram loved it. She treated me like a princess all evening and morning. Dinner, snacks, breakfast. Mom had her hair up, Sandy was odd girl out but had a beautiful style, her hair pulled back and then down, with spiral curls on the ends. It looked high maintenance and was. Sandy said she need to shock Bill and show him she could be a lady. We joked that it was wasted on Bill.

"I'll keep him off you little sister." Sandy had said. I wasn t worried, Bill would not hit on Janet s date. He had class.

I drove. I had the SUV sparkling, ready to carry its elegant passengers. Mom looked like a movie star. This was the first time she had really done herself up in almost three years. She was all simplicity and beauty, understated and oozing class. Sandy was even more than her usual incredible self. She seemed determined to contrast Mom and me, wearing a floor length full skirted dress. She looked like something out of a romance novel cover.

Mom's dress and mine were similar but different enough. I thought my shoulders looked a little big in the sleeveless dress, but Mom said I looked fine. Sandy said no guy would ever look at my shoulders, and girls would love them. I had my pearls and Gram had given me some diamond earrings which dangled down. I was trying to adapt my head movements to avoid oscillations. I had my all-in-one on with my butt padding. The cups were just a shade small as I seemed to have increased my breasts just a little bit. The dress wasn't low cut but it did show some cleavage. I was again the tallest in my family as I had on four inch heels.

Driving was ok, after I temporarily traded my heels for sneakers. We got there in one piece. The three outstanding babes at the front door (Us) were let in by the maid, who took our coats as Janet's Mom and Dad rushed up to greet us. Kiss Kiss. Bill came in and hugged Sandy and they went off to talk. Janet's Mom was a toucher, one of those people who seems compelled to gently touch you when she addresses you, as if there was some extra communication by that means. There probably was. She loved my hair, my pearls, my dress. Call her Marjorie.

Marjorie marched me over to Andrew (Janet s Dad) and introduced me as This is Janet s boyfriend. Sandy's brother. He and Janet are getting quite serious.

I looked over to Janet to see if this was a MMMoootthheerrr!!!! Moment but apparently not, it was off the playing field. You only learn by watching and doing.

Andrew shook my hand, but so gently. As if I were glass. He then kissed me on the cheek. I kissed him back. He asked me about school, other things. He talked baseball. He loved baseball. I loved baseball but had only had had time to glimpse at the scores on the websites. He and I walked into the den, discussing the early season so far. Without looking, I could feel Janet and the Moms shaking their heads in that 'Men!' way. We were fine. At least it wasn t MEN! Then we were screwed.

On my way back to find Janet while Andrew had to take a phone call, I found Sandy and Bill, sitting in a small game room. Sandy waved me in.

Bill got up and looked me over. He was a big guy. I was six one in heels and Janet was tall too, only and inch shorter. Her Mom and Dad were tall. Bill was six five and built like a defensive tackle above the waist and a wide receiver below. He whistled. He then shook my hand, a real guy handshake. I had missed them. Bill leaned next to me and whispered in my ear.

"What you are doing for your Mom is really impressive, especially for a straight guy. Sandy has asked me to help out with the process. Oh, and by the way, Janet really likes you no matter how you look. Don t worry about whether she wants you to be this forever. Just go with it and enjoy it. You re a good man, Brad." Bill said.

" You're a witch or what you call it" I blurted out.

Bill put his finger to his lips. He whispered again. "Sandy clued me in years ago and helped me develop it. I'm either a guy witch or a gay warlock. Doesn t matter to me. Now go in and be dazzling for Marjorie. Andrew already thinks you are great."

I did, and actually had a good time. Mom and Marjorie were thick as thieves and Janet and I were allowed to sit and listen attentively. Andrew told me about his business and I listened attentively. That was our job , listening attentively. Janet and I were left alone for a while after dinner. We decided we needed not look disheveled so our normal activity was very subdued. Plus we were both dressed and madeup with much effort and still had at least another two hours to go before we could go offstage.

Later, Mom declared the evening a success, we did the usual thirty minute thank the host and hostess, put our coats on, forget the purse farewell. Kiss Kiss. I opened the SUV doors for Mom and Sandy and Andrew opened mine. Heels off, sneakers on, we drove home.

Chapter 16: The Pace Quickens

The next few weeks flew by. Highlight follow:

-I grew to a D cup and noticed the guys at school were impressed. They still looked more at my boobs than my eyes, but I knew they could not help it and took it as a compliment. The girls told me it was easy to take it well when you were as stacked and racked like I was. They were merciless but it was friendly.

-I had recruited all the mindless labor necessary for the prom decorations - I told the guys I would tell all their secrets to the girls if they did not volunteer. They knew I was kidding, I was a guy. So I flashed my boobs in the locker room. They had all been consumed with wonder and now I had them. If they did not cooperate, I would let each of their dates know they liked mine better than hers. Now I had their attention. Janet thought it was hysterical while she called me a slut. Then she kissed me and told me I was her slut.

-Mom was in full boss mode. The whole town was marching to her plan on the prom and felt good about it. She was then focused on the dresses. Janet had decided and I had decided. Mom was in high gear in her sewing room.

-Evenings after school almost always had a fitting of some kind, usually with Sandy and Gram playing the sideline fans and hecklers. I stood there, having material pinned up and watching Mom work. She was good.

-Sally and I became friends. We were evolving towards a style for the big event, following Mom's theory on wearing it over my shoulders. Sally taught me more about hairdressing every week and tried to get me to work for her. I was becoming the house stylist at home and Janet even came by for special shampoo sessions.

-Andrew asked me to consider interning in his business after senior year of high school.

-Sandy and I bonded as sisters. It was a like an extended slumber party. I knew some of her attention was her keeping me on balance, but we grew closer. We had shared grief and loss and were now sharing the joy of Mom's return. Mom had opened the money spigots and we were enjoying the results in our wardrobes and jewelry cases. A few times Sandy had caught me standing at the mirror, looking like a deer in the headlights. There was a stranger in the reflection. She held me, reassured me, let me cry. She told me I was doing what was necessary. And I was still the same at the core. Then she did my hair and we ate popcorn.

-The track coach asked me if I was going to be there next season. He assured me I could wear any uniform I wanted to.

-School went on. Tests, homework. The teachers slacked off the week of the prom.

Chapter 17: Somewhere, Over Occupied Europe, A Band Of Brave Souls

The frenzy went right to Saturday about noon. Then a strange quiet descended, similar to the one you saw in the old war movies. The guys on the plane about to jump into battle. All it needed was some girl at a make-up table playing the harmonica while the propellers droned on. Glassy eyed looks. Trained and ready to go. Then you would have some other girl staring at a gown shrouded in plastic suddenly jump up and go "The Waiting! I can t stand it!" while other girls wrestle her to the ground, slap her face and go "Settle down soldier."

Mom was pacing. I had modeled the dress several times. It was perfect and further attention was asking for trouble. Sally was coming over for a touch up to the hairdo, just to make sure after my appointment with her that morning. The limo was due at 5:30 that evening to pick me up and then head to get Janet. We had debated and Janet had urged me to agree to have dinner with Bill and Sandy rather than a double date. We would see all the kids all night, and we felt dinner should be a touch more sophisticated. Bill and Sandy told us they would handle the corsages, easing the pressure on Janet and me.

My hair was really really great. I loved it and it hid my shoulders which was important as my dress showed a lot of skin. Back from my face but soft waves cascading down over my shoulders, teased out but not excessively, it shined and flowed with blonde highlights in my normal brown. I just loved looking in the mirror at it. Sally had said it was designed to draw attention right to these babies tapping my breasts with her teasing comb.

I wrote an imaginary press release.

"Brandi is attending the Prom, his hair a crowning glory accentuating his best features."

"His gown is ladylike in soft flock fabric and lace. It features an empire bodice with lovely spaghetti straps. Detailed with lace overlay combining venise appliqu and trim embroidered with beautiful flowers and sequence specs add to the look. The skirt has three rows of softly gathered lace and a beautiful scalloped lace overlay. Soft gathers in back to complete the graceful look"

"Brandi runs track, likes baseball, computers, cars and girls. He is planning to become a business executive, centerfielder or a top hairdresser."

I started assembly. I called Sandy in as I began the construction project that dressing had become.

"Sandy, I need some advice on what to wear underneath." There, I put it straight. I was now a real girl, can't even pick out underwear without a consultation.

Sandy ran me through the options, which were very narrowed down by the need to wear a strapless brassiere. My gown had an open back, not too low , and had bare shoulders. I felt it was held up by my boobs and best wishes (there, I'm doing it again, saying I felt instead of I thought .Relax, Breathe, Go With The Flow). Sandy took this seriously, and within seconds had gotten to the critical path points. She told me to answer only two questions.

Question One: Did I want some waist support?

Question Two: Did I want Janet to get lucky tonight?

All else was dictated by the dress and event.

Okay, my mind was reeling with my newest piece of learning. Women had to plan on what they would allow their men to be able to do easily when they were dressing. No wonder they had claimed veto rights over time, place and how far. Backed up by the law.

No could mean No way, or Not now, I'm not stripping naked in your car. It always meant No. No wonder men were always confused, they thought it was about them. And never get a woman who was a poor planner at clothing.

Mom had done great with the dress, it fit like a glove, even with my guy waist. I still wanted some extra insurance in case I did something wild , like actually eat at dinner.

So yes to question one.

Question Two had me hemming and hawing, and Sandy, seeing I was protecting Janet s reputation, ended my predicament. "Bradley, my beautiful little sister, I know Janet isn't a virgin and I have a really good guess on your condition. So relax, you are being gallant since only real men don t screw and tell. But I know. And if you want Janet to have some fun, you have to allow for where you will be. Probably in the limo or somewhere else inconvenient, and you do not want to have to remove some major foundation garments, which means getting out of the dress. Follow me, honeychile? So what do you think about this?" Sandy proceeded to lay out the components. It was like going to the damn Moon.

Okay, we got it done. I started with a strapless demi-bra which somehow supported my breasts but felt like one of those big bridges held up by a single cable. Control top panties with a bit more padding than I usually wore. A strapless camisole which was two layers, with the interior layer being a control fabric which held my waist snug while the outer layer was loose and gauzy. A garter belt and sheer black tone stockings. Sandy told me the garters and stockings were irresistible. I agreed, but I liked the look better on women. Sandy said girls need some thrills too. A half slip which Sandy told me was a real toned down petticoat, just to make my dress seem full. Sandy then handed me my purse and my bag. My purse was so small as to almost be non functional, enough room for lipstick, compact, mascara and brush. Stuff like ID and money was less important. All the other stuff went in my bag, larger and stocked like a drugstore. It was to stay either with my coat or in the limo. Sandy had put in some extra panties and made sure I had a condom or five. She had also had me stick a small sanitary pad in my panties, just in case my constrained manhood got frisky at the sight of all those pretty girls .

Non-Mom stuff out of the way, Mom made her entrance, followed by Gram. They were both dressed for the hunt, Mom in her floor length evening dress and Gram in a really neat high neck silk long sleeve number that looked like it was Asian. Gram had her hair up and looked like the Dragon Lady in that old comic strip. Really sexy but dangerous. She could carry it off because she was dangerous. Did I mention she met Grampa while they both were occupying Japan in the 1940's?. Gram loved Asian stuff and despite having those people try to kill her regularly, she loved the place.

Chaperones at this event knew their charter. An occasional walk through early on, take some pictures, then get out of the room. They had a small party of their own in a room off the gym/now ballroom, keeping an eye to make sure nothing had gotten out of hand. They screened out the kids who had decided to let substances abuse them, and discretely helped them clear their heads. No names, no questions. As a result, almost all the kids were mature, which meant they controlled their substance abuse. Isn't that why they call them controlled substances? Mostly a few had some champagne or maybe one drink for courage . A few were stoned but harmless.

So now, I told Mom and Gram how great they looked, Mom informed me she was here for the final assembly. So here I am, demi-bra, camisole, half petti-slip, stockings, face, nails and hair done. Mom reviewed me and then she held up the dress for me to step into. Gram was taking enough pictures to fill a gigabyte chip.

Carefully put it on. Get zipped up. Sandy gave me my heels. Stand for pictures. Twirl around. The look on Mom's face was burned into my mind. I ll never forget it. She was at peace with herself and was having one of those perfect moments life rations out to you at rare and random intervals. I feel sorry for those who let them go by and do not notice. It made me giggle. We hugged, Gram hugged, Sandy hugged, a whole lot of hugging going on. In many ways , I understood what Sandy had missed when she did this solo, still in shock at Mom and Dad's disappearance. Gram had made her do it, but it was not the same. Then I realized that Gram had been stuck in Borneo by monsoons and had missed Mom's prom. All three of these women were getting something out of this, something they had lost. I could say I felt obligated, but that would be wrong. I wanted to give them something, whatever I could. They all were great Ladies, capital L intended.

Chapter 18: The Balloon Goes Up

The Prom was the Prom. Limo, Dinner, Dance, Ceremony, Party, Party, Alone With Janet, Collapse. Lets see the game highlights, Mr. Color Commentator. Run the replays.

Highlight: Pre Game Festivities

Sandy and Bill met us outside the limo at Janet s after Mom and Gram had bundled me into the back. The driver was cool and talked to me about his Prom experience, guy to guy. I laughed. When I looked at my reflection in the window, I had an image of al those movies where the expensive mistress of the wealthy bad guy is being delivered to his private jet by his bodyguards. I hugged my mink wrap (Gram's) and grinned. So, after we have been both corsaged by Sandy and Bill, which seemed just right, and anyway Bill looked great in his dinner jacket so the image fit, we are then whisked away to a local Very Expensive Restaurant On The Water. Bill poured champagne and no one bothered us. He did limit us to one glass each, but poured two into Sandy. I knew Sandy, he could have poured the whole bottle down her throat. and she would not show it. Toast. Toast. Great food. I was glad I had the camisole keeping my gut under wraps.

Highlight: The Team Comes on the Field

Janet took my breath away. I had seen her dress but the total package was proof about that sum of the parts thing. We had decided on her hair up, mine down. Her gown was making me glad Sandy had told me to use the pad. I didn t use it but came close. Low cut and tasteful. We were carefully color coordinated, not matching but clearly complimentary. We did have the same white satin gloves which went past our elbows. I was wondering how she would react to my outfit but she loved it and somehow it turned her on. Sandy had to make funny throat noises to get us separated and into the limo.

Highlights: Coach Instructs the Team

Sandy had given me some behavior strategy points.

"Brandi, you are one of the guys, but tonight you are playing on the girl's team. The guys will respect that. Except Janet, to her you are her guy but that's for later. During the Prom itself she will mostly want to talk to the girls. So I recommend since you look the part, be the part. I will bet the girls will have their dates ask you to dance. Do it. If they feel awkward, you know how that feels, make them comfortable. Dance with the girls too, but no real slow and dirty dances with girls except Janet unless you want some real crap later. Half of the real good discussion is in the ladies lounge anyway, so use it. Tonight, no boys room. Got it sweetheart? Walk this dress into the boy's room, with what's on that floor? Was she kidding?

Highlights: She Walked Up to Me And Asked Me To Dance, My Lola

I did dance with a lot of guys. I knew Sandy was right, their dates wanted to make sure I had my experience. Plus, they were pretty sure I was not real competition. Everybody did look great, but Mom, Gram and Sandy, Janet, Sally and Mary had worked a miracle. I wasn't the best looking one there but I was better than average and I knew it. Fortunately for me and the guys who wanted to dance, Mom and Dad had loved to dance. They inflicted enough years of punishment on Sandy and me until we could do what they called real dancing as opposed to what passes for movement on most high school dance floors. Waltz, foxtrot, jitterbug, swing, tango. Sandy had made sure I could now do it like it had been said about Ginger Rogers compared to Fred Astaire. I had to do it all, just backwards and in high heels. (If you've never heard of Fred & Ginger-look it up, it is a cultural icon). Mom had had some influence in the music selection and there were a few classic dances thrown in with the rest of the stuff in the mosh pit. Girls need to demand these to come back, these dresses were made to do these dances. I knew a few of the guys could do these if I forced them out on the floor, so I did. And yes, I did dance with Janet. Including the slow dances. It took a little adaptation to keep our boobs from collision, but we figured it out. Janet could also jitterbug like an instructor. Gram always said, Dancing Is Culture. To know a culture, study the Dance. When the dance changes, so does the culture.

Highlights: Everyone's Favorite Girl Friend

At that time and place, a minority of the guys had long hair. Probably around ten percent. At least half of them had come to me for hair advice for the prom. I assumed most of those had been prodded by their dates to see me. So in the interest of community service and because their girlfriends had begged me to do something with their usual rats nests which passed for hair, I gave them advice and walked them through what it would take. If they wanted more, it cost them. Cash. My folks had told me that my time, beyond a certain point of being a decent neighbor had value. So I became a hairdresser to the hopeless. They did have to do their own shampoo and conditioning, under my supervision. Then I gave them a style which worked. Their girlfriends were ecstatic and the guys ended up looking really good. I made a few hundred.

Highlights: The Moment We ve All Been Waiting For .

I know you're expecting it but no, I was not elected Prom Queen. Or Prom King. Janet was Queen and the second best looking guy in school was King. She did cry. I did make the Queen's court, so I got to attend Janet along with five other girls. Mom was raptly watching the whole thing. I then remembered Sandy had been Prom Queen. Damn, I would never hear the end of that.

Highlight: Party On Dudette

We had parties. If you ve never been to one, good for you. Kids at the parties are either coming down from the lift and magic of the event and unwinding, exploring each other's bodies in semi-public ways, or getting drunk, stoned or other . There were only three car accidents, no one hurt, just sheet metal and trim. There was some regurgitation, mostly in appropriate places. A few punches, all of which missed except two. I never figured out why at least fifteen percent of kids that age when presented with any body of water will end up soaked to the skin. Party One for Janet and I was the unwinding stage. Yes we had a few drinks but Janet was even more controlled than Sandy and I hated being drunk. I don t mind drinking, just hate being drunk. We had a good time. Everybody stayed dressed.

Party Two was the same but clothes were shedding, hair came down, heels came off. Janet and I were still intact. We liked the look and were preserving the moment. We also got bored and had the driver take the long way home.

Highlights: This Channel Strictly Available On A Pay Per View Basis And You Can t Afford It

Janet and I decided the limo was comfortable and available. The driver was cool and we told him to take an early breakfast break. Deep tinted windows.

That s all you get. If you need more you won't get it from me.

Highlights: Post Game Wrap Up

Janet and I were reassembling ourselves when the driver came back from breakfast. Sandy had proven to be a master at underwear planning. I had clean panties and no visible stains. My hair needed some work but not as much as Janet's. So, like a true gentleman, I reconstructed her hairdo. It took me a while, but she was thrilled. Unfortunately, now she expected updos on demand.. I had her fix my face in repayment.

The sun was coming up as we kissed at her front door. Her Mom opened and dragged us both in for tea and coffee and some breakfast. Forty five minutes later, Janet cannot keep her eyes open. I get another kiss and one from Marjorie.

Limo home. Sandy opens my door and escorts me to the waiting post operation review board. Mom and Gram are dressed down in nightgowns. Apparently Gram had taken up with another Senior Citizen and had just returned an hour before me.

I removed my heels and half slip. I wanted to take the camisole off but just sitting suddenly became more important. Over more bites of breakfast, we all swapped impressions and observations. We gossiped. Girl talk.

I was still awake enough not to fail a key test. The three women were dying to know what Janet and I really did after the prom. In some small way I wanted to share it. But I was still a guy. In Mom's mind I was still her son, and demi-bra and gown, long styled hair and eyeliner and all the rest were just what I wore. She still expected me to be a stand up guy. So I politely declined as a gentleman does not talk about a lady. Mom smiled and kissed me on the cheek. Character is what defined a person's worth for her.

Mom walked me up to my bedroom and helped me undress. I was dead on my feet and greatly appreciated her help. I don t remember anything after my stockings came off.

Chapter 19: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

I woke up sometime around noon. Janet and I were going to the lake that afternoon and then out for the evening, probably an amusement park. We were definitely not going swimming as Janet wanted to keep her hair style at least until Sunday evening. I opened my eyes and there was Gram and Sandy. They were shaking me awake. Somehow I had been undressed and put into a sleep set and nightgown, with my hair rescued by a satin bonnet. My makeup was removed. My tongue tasted like fur. My gloves were still on.

"It's about time, Brandi you lazy bitch!" Sandy joked. Gram was waiting patiently for me to pass the threshold of semi-consciousness.

"Bradley, I want you to know you have done a wonderful job. My daughter has come back to me. To all of us. I know it was not easy but you were just what we had hoped. You did what you had to do, and did it well. Would you like to go back to being a little more masculine now? Notice I didn t say go back to being a man, because you acted like a real man the whole time. Everything you did was for someone you loved." Gram said, clearly happy but serious and focused. Talking to her when she was like this meant pay attention to every word.

"So, what now, just wiggle your noses and I m a boy? Just like that?" I said.

Sandy answered. "No, Brandi, it took two months to build you and Mom to this point, it will take about that to take you back with no disruption of Mom's psyche. We can start right now."

"Why do I think you want something else? I can read you like a day old newspaper. What s the catch?" I said. Gram laughed.

"I told you he had learned too much, Sandy. He's been an honorary girl and now he can play the game. Hell, our Bradley was a better girl than most there last night!" Gram went. Damn right! Nobody could outgirl me! What was I thinking? Damn, Gram was good.

Gram continued. "Let me lay out our cards, here Brandi dear. Carolyn is much better and I want to bring her out of this as slowly as we can. I have booked a large cabin on a lake in the mountains which sleeps four. It's for the last three weeks of August. We want you to transition back while we are there. I don t want to explain why it's better than doing it here, it has to do with minimizing energies. Leave it at that. I may get to teach your granddaughter if she inherits the ability."

"And until then?" I knew the answer.

"Just continue on as you are, you sexy thing." Sandy said, grinning from earring to earring.

"And if I don t want to go back?" I said.

"We can do that too, but there is a catch there. You have been surrounded by unquestioned acceptance by everybody you meet. We cannot suspend that suspicion of uncommon behavior for much longer. So you would have to be accepted for what you were. It would be difficult, as people are not as tolerant as they are in the world we have created for you. We of course would accept you and anticipated that you would consider this. Like all of our family, we never try to do anything half assed. We are born and raised that way. So you became as close to a female as you could and did it damn well. We love you either way." Gram said, her eyes tearing up.

"Just testing, Gram. I never really got comfortable in heels, anyway." I said.

"I haven't yet either." Gram laughed and I was made a part time coven member, capable of group hugs at a moment notice.

Chapter 20: Endless Summer

I started a part time job at Dressed With Skill at Sally's insistence, which went full time with the end of school. I was really good at hair and I now had my own clientele of guys who were doing much better with the girls with my styles. I had created a small upsurge in long hair in males. Plus they really liked to look at my boobs when I worked on them. Sally's advice on showing cleavage was great for repeat business.

Janet went to Japan in July with her folks and was not due back until school started. I told her to go when she threatened a pout sequence. I told her I would be there when she returned, and she had a great opportunity to see a part of the world most of us would never see. Plus, I wasn't worried, I was taller than the guys over there. She went, and we had a really long goodbye weekend at the beach. Bill was our chaperone and was very understanding. He must like me as he could break any guy I knew in half if he didn't like what they were doing to his baby sister. Also, he handed me a device to hide my crotch equipment so I could wear a bikini. What a guy.

All the bodyshaping and my diet had caused me to lose some muscle. I also lost two inches on my waist, which Mom chalked up to figure training . I knew I looked pretty hot and was never taken for a guy all summer, even in swimsuits. Of course, I guessed a lot of that was Sandy and Gram and maybe Bill clouding men's minds, but in a mirror, I admitted I was pretty good. Of course really styled hair and sizeable tits will tend to lead you to certain conclusions.

So here I am on the last day before our mountain getaway. Sally has convinced me to finally try a bare midriff look, so I am in pink hiphugger pants, sensible two inch heels, and a really short top with Sally s recommended cleavage percentage. I have just finished giving a guy a perm. His girlfriend is standing there. The guy stands up and looks at himself and gets a little wobbly. I know the feeling, but before I can calm him down, his girlfriend puts her hand on his crotch and kisses him fully and deeply on the lips. When he is allowed to breathe, she says. "It's great , you look like such a hunk! Look at Brandi s hair and he's got Janet for a girlfriend." The guy was sold.

As they left, Sally came up to me and said. "Brandi, if you did that, you could triple your business."

"I know, but then you would need another kind of license." I answered.

Sally kissed me and wished me well. She offered me a job leading to partnership whenever I wanted it.

Chapter 21: Ch Ch Ch Changes

The cabin was more like a suite at a luxury hotel. We had maid service, room service, massage, hair and skin care people. We could buy food and cook ourselves. We had separate rooms. There were few people and everyone kept to themselves. There was no cruise director, I think they would have been shot. We had a lake, fishing, boats, mountain trails, bikes, horseback riding. We did not have television. We had radio but there was only one station. We had music. We had a phone but we were told it better be important. Sandy and I were rationed to one call per three days. I was restricted to one hour of connect charges to Japan per week. The only nightlife was us, usually over cards.

We all quit wearing makeup and nail polish. Hairstyles were simple and practical. I don t think I wore a skirt more than twice. Underwear got much simpler, mostly sportswear.

Mom and I went fishing a lot. I started running everyday with Sandy.

By the end of the second week, I was down to between a C and B cup. My weight was back to normal and I was rebuilding muscle mass. Mom came in and announced we were going out to dinner at a resort about forty miles away, and we needed to dress for the occasion.

"Bradley, I know you are moving on with your life. Would you grant me one favor? I would like to take out my Mother and two wonderful girls for a last dinner together. Then I think I will be ready to watch my son grow up." She had tears in her eyes and was trembling. I thought I would breakdown right there.

I held her tightly. "Mom, please call me Brandi. And I need to do something with your hair, so go wash it."

We had my goodbye dinner and we went dancing at the resort. It was great.

Chapter 22. : Return From The Fling

So we returned. I was carrying in the stuff, feeling strange not having to deal with protecting my now manly chest from bumps and collisions. Brandi was away, visiting. Brad was back. But so was Mom. Mission Accomplished.

The next night I was shaken awake by Gram and Sandy. Bill was standing there.

"Bradley, We have already told you how much we appreciated what you did. It is now time to end this. Are you ready?" Gram said.

" What do you mean Gram? I thought it was over. Back to normal. End of Mission. There s more?" I was fumbling for words.

"Brother dear, we may be powerful but we are not that powerful. This has all been a projection into an alternate reality. You and Mom were players in our little play. An illusion, or a shared dream if you will." Sandy said. I still looked confused.

Bill chimed in . "Brad, think of it this way. We created an offshoot from the normal universe we live in and put you and your Mom and a few others into it. Like a simulation program. You all inhabited it, it happened to you and then we let it collapse. You wake up back where you entered. Some of us think dreams are a crude form of alternate universe creation. You will wake up and it will be back in March. Besides, this way, you and Janet get two proms. Next time you pin the corsage.

"Can Mom and I and Janet discuss it?" I asked.

"You could, but from what we ve seen, the time will never seem right, or you won t be sure if it was real. You, however, will retain the memory longer than the rest. And you should be proud of what you did."

"So you aren't witches, able to change my body and cloud minds?" I said.

"Cloud minds, somewhat. Change your body? That would require a lot of energy." Sandy said, smiling sweetly.

I fell asleep.

Chapter 23: You Can Fool Some Of The People Some Of The Time

Morning. I look outside and it is March. They weren t kidding. Mom is calling me from downstairs. Breakfast is ready. I throw on some clothes and head down. Mom is smiling like her old self. She was still fine.

"Brad, after you eat go upstairs and wash your face and neaten up. Take some care in how you look." Mom was back.

So it was over. I knew I would ask Janet to the Prom. I knew what her dress would look like. I knew the answers to my final exams. At least school would be easy. I hoped the limo driver was still a cool guy. Here I was, back to Brad.

It struck me while I was sitting in the chair in my room. Sandy had not said they didn't change my body, she just said something about how much energy it would take. I looked at my hands brushing my mid-back length hair and started laughing. I looked forward to meeting Sally for the first time , again.

End