Memories of Those Perfectly Awful Summers with My Stepmother, Part One
by David
daphnesecretgarden@yahoo.com

copyright 2005 by David, all rights reserved

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains
explicit  depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of  a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such  material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not  save this story.
* * * * *


Chapter One: Starstruck and Dumbfounded

It was during one of my early summer visits to my Dad's
house that I fell into the hands of my stepmother, Juanita,
for a few fateful days.  At eleven years of age, nothing in
my previous existence could have prepared me for what
amounted to the most frightening and exciting and formative
experience of my young life.

First off, you have to understand that for as long as we'd
known each other, Juanita and I had a rocky relationship.  I
suppose most of that was based on her jealousy of my
relationship with my father.  Sometimes, especially when Dad
and I were having a really great time together, she'd get
all upset, more like a big sister than a mother or
stepmother, and she'd treat me like I was the stain left on
the floor by a naughty puppy.  In his macho wisdom, Dad told
me to ignore it, saying it was "a woman thing."  Pretty easy
for him to say, as he wasn't the one she vented her temper
on.

Whenever Juanita was mad about something and my dad wasn't
around, look out! I wasn't perfect, but I certainly was not
a bad kid, even if I do say so myself.  I tried staying out
of her way, but she had a way of keeping me within arm's
reach so she could torment me.  

My stepmother's favorite thing was to make me cry.  She
often took it upon herself to scold me to tears for breaking
some real or imagined rule.  If she was really mad she'd
slap my face and on more than one occasion she pulled down
my pants and spanked my bare butt, which never failed to
bring out the tears.  Afterward she'd make me stand in the
corner of the living room with both my pants and underwear
down around my ankles, regardless of who might be in the
house.  I spent many hours with my bare bottom exposed while
standing only a few feet from where she entertained her
girlfriends.

I never talked much with my dad about the way his wife
acted, which was a good thing since he expected me to do
everything she said.

"Sorry, little buddy, but that's just how things work," he
said the one time I complained.  "Juanita is like your mom
when you stay with me, so you're going to mind her when I'm
gone. I don't care what she says, you do it. Do you
understand that?"

"Yes, sir," I said with a nod.

Most of the time Juanita and I were okay, I guess.  Despite
her temper I kind of liked being around her, especially when
she was in a good mood, in which case she could be very
loving.  When she wasn't chastising me she was generous with
her hugs and kisses and we were always going places and
doing fun things.  She even took up for me when my dad
complained about my hair, which was pretty long, reaching
way past my ears and almost touching my shoulders in the
back.

"Oh, leave him alone," she fussed.  "Brandon looks good with
long hair.  It's so blond and so wavy.  Most boys don't look
this cute."

There were some quiet, tender moments, too.  For example,
occasionally Juanita would help during bathtime, where she
insisted on shampooing my hair. I didn't like that at first,
but she was so nice and it felt so good, I kept my mouth
shut to avoid any arguments.  Afterward she would wrap me in
a towel and drag me into her bedroom where she would brush
my golden locks until they were dry.  I felt kind of funny
sitting at my stepmother's vanity wearing a skimpy towel and
nothing else.  But it made her happy, so who was I to argue
over something so silly?

Needless to say, I just had to be careful how I acted and
work hard to keep my stepmother happy.  Even so, she was so
pretty and exotic looking, even at my young age I figured
that was why my father married her.  

Anyway, back to the story. It was the summer vacation
between sixth and seventh grade.  During my visit Dad and I
were supposed to spend it going to the stock car races,
fishing and practicing baseball.  As usual, "something came
up at work."  It turned out that Dad had to go out of town
for at least a month.  Rather than send me home to my mom,
Juanita offered to keep me.

"It's no trouble," she said.  "This will give us the chance
to know each other better.  And I promise he'll have fun.
It'll be like an adventure!"

And so it began.

With Dad out of town Juanita spent nearly every day visiting
one of her girlfriends, a woman by the name of (and this is
so true) "Elizabeth Taylor."  In keeping with her namesake's
image, Mrs. Taylor had a very large and beautiful house with
a housekeeper and a huge swimming pool and a wonderful
garden designed like a gigantic maze.  

During those days sunbathing wasn't the crime of self-abuse
as it often is portrayed today, and so each and every
morning Juanita and Mrs. Taylor and some lady friends would
laze around the pool for a couple of hours, have lunch and
then play cards and gossip until it was time to go home.  

I was eleven, almost twelve, at the time.  My job during our
visits to Mrs. Taylor's house, of course, was to keep quiet
and mind my own business, stay away from the adult ladies
and not cause any trouble.  Since there weren't any other
kids for me to play with during these little get togethers  
well, a couple of women brought along toddlers that stayed
either in a wading pool or in a playpen, but there was
nobody anywhere near my age   I had the run of the pool, so
long as I didn't make any loud noises or splash any of the
sunbathing beauties.  As it was I had a toy boat and some
plastic frogmen to keep me busy if I got bored swimming.  I
didn't get to play with them much, however, because my
stepmother and Mrs. Elizabeth Taylor got bored first.  

And that's when my troubles began.  

It all started one morning when Mrs. Taylor called me out of
the pool and asked if I would go get some ice for her drink.


"It would be so nice if you did that for me," she cooed.
"Miss Thelma will show you where the ice is kept."

Eager to please, I watched patiently as the housekeeper
showed me which ice maker worked best and what glasses Mrs.
Taylor liked best and which tray to use.  The next thing I
knew I refilling everyone's drinks.  Then I was fetching
cigarettes and fashion magazines and whatever else they
wanted.  It was a pain at first, but I really didn't mind
running their little errands, especially since Mrs. Taylor
was so nice to me.  Besides, it made my stepmother happy and
that was always a good thing.    

Oh, sure, I knew who "Elizabeth Taylor" was and being my
father's son I thought it was neat to know a pretty woman
who had a movie star's name.  I'll never forget standing
next to her lounge chair, staring at her bikini which left
so little to the imagination, and blushing as she called me
"darling" and "sweetheart" and stroked my long blond hair as
she talked to me.  

"You are so lucky to have such a pretty son, Juanita.  I
just love his curly locks."  The beautiful woman kissed me
on the cheek, leaving a lipstick stain I wouldn't find until
bedtime.  "You are so sweet, darling.  I wish you were
mine."

I don't know what it was, but Mrs. Taylor seemed to really
like me.  A lot.  Best yet, Juanita seemed to approve of my
relationship with her friend.  Being a typical boy, I
thought it was all very embarrassing, but I did the smart
thing and just went along with their silly requests in hopes
that they'd find something else to pass the time.

One morning Mrs. Taylor took it to the next level.  Imagine
my surprise when she called me over to her lounge chair and
asked me to put lotion on her legs and her back.  I'd never
done such a thing, never even thought about it.  I mean, I
was only eleven years old, right?  But, there I was,
suddenly kneeling at the feet of a full-grown adult woman
and touching her in a way that made me really nervous.
Especially with all those other full-grown adult women
watching.  

I made some excuse about getting back in the pool, but
Juanita stopped me and warned me about being nice to my
elders.  I wasn't sure about touching a grown woman's body.
It kind of scared me.  Funny thing ... I remember being
terrified, yet oddly thrilled to do as I was told.  I also
remember my stepmother laughing as Mrs. Taylor undid her top
and let her breasts loose right there in front of me.

My eyes almost popped out of my head!

"Liz, you're so BAD!" Juanita said with a giggle.  "What
about the hired help?"

"First of all, darling, I let Thelma take the whole day off.
And second, I'm not bad!  Why would you say such a thing?
I'm nice."  The pretty woman pretended to pout.  She then
shot a heartwarming smile in my direction.  "And besides,
Brandon doesn't mind looking at my titties, do you,
handsome?"

Suddenly, all of the attention went to me.  I was surrounded
on all sides by bright, encouraging smiles.  My face was so
hot, I actually felt faint.

"Answer the woman, Brandon." My stepmother gave me a hard
look.  "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

I just mumbled something unintelligible and shook my head
and tried not to stare.  I know I was staring, but holy cow,
Mrs. Taylor was showing off her boobs!  What was I supposed
to do?

Well, that's when things got really weird.  After Mrs.
Taylor showed her stuff, the other ladies   including my own
stepmother!   took their cue and soon they were all
sunbathing topless, conveniently ignoring the little boy who
refilled their drinks and brought them suntan lotion.  I
could not believe my eyes!  

Talk about surreal ... it was like, poof, and all of a
sudden, I was in boob paradise!  Believe me, titties were
everywhere and these amazing women didn't seem to mind me
looking at them!  Not even Juanita, who was in my opinion
the most beautiful woman in the world.  Her breasts were
incredible, not just in size, but in how they seemed to defy
gravity.  Whenever I was near her it was all I could do not
to touch them to see if they were real.  It almost made her
temper tantrums worth enduring.

As the day went on I managed to not make a complete fool of
myself.  I did, however, manage to touch more than one
titty.  It usually happened while helping with suntan lotion
or when someone would lean in close to give me a kiss or a
hug.  Once, while everyone else was fussing over one of the
younger children, Mrs. Taylor herself bent down to whisper
some silliness in my ear and as she stood up her nipple
brushed against my nose and my cheek!  The sensation sent a
shock wave through my body and I felt weak in the knees.  
How amazing was that?  

This sounds stupid, but several times during that day I
actually pinched myself to see if I was dreaming.  As far as
I was concerned, this was the best day of my entire life!  I
mean, I couldn't believe my good fortune!  I thought about
my buddies back home and how boring their summer vacations
would be.  I even started thinking about making up some fake
story about what I had done on mine.  They would never
believe the truth if I told them!

Well, if I thought topless day was something, the stakes
were raised the very next morning.  As soon as we arrived
not only were the bathing suit tops off, but the bottoms
came untied and fell loose, too, all to my utter dismay and
confusion.  Before long I was treated to a sight most boys
could only dream about.  I mean, all around me, lounging
about without a care in the world were four beautiful naked
women.  I could not believe my eyes!  I mean, there they
were, right in front of me, gorgeous breasts and voluptuous
bottoms and   holy crap!   those mysterious triangles of
curly hair that resided between a woman's legs.  All right
there in front of me. It was ... well, in my mind it was
kind of like being the photographer for one of my father's
girlie magazines.  It was pure heaven!  

Funny thing ... none of those beautiful women seemed at all
self-conscious about being naked outdoors.  To me the
concept was, well, inconceivable, but they didn't have a
care in the world.  They also didn't pay mind to the fact
that an eleven year old boy was in their midst; the same
eleven year old boy who poured their ginger ales and lit
their cigarettes and adjusted the volume on the transistor
radio, as a matter of fact!  To my stepmother and her
friends I was harmless, like a mere pet, and so they paraded
through the house and around the pool and the patio in the
nude as though I wasn't even there.

I'll never, ever forget one fantastic moment when a young
woman named Bridget, one of Mrs. Taylor's business
associates, stretched out on her lawn chair.  An exotic
blond, she was the youngest woman in the group, spoke French
to Mrs. Taylor, and next to my stepmother had the most
beautiful legs and breasts in the lot.  As I watched,
Bridget spread her long, shapely legs out wide enough that I
could see a bit of pink flesh peeking out from her flaxen
pubic hair.  My first sighting of the forbidden.  It was an
amazing moment, still fresh in my mind after all these
years.

Anyway, the scary part of the story is that I got caught
staring, by both Bridget and Juanita, darn it!  For a moment
I knew I was in trouble, but as it turned out Bridget just
raised an eyebrow and smiled.  She didn't even bother
closing her legs together.  At the time I guessed she wanted
to get a tan in between her thighs.  It never occurred to me
that she might have been showing herself off to me on
purpose.

Juanita was the only one who said anything.  She looked
toward Bridget's open legs and back at me.  I felt a chill
of fear run down my spine.

"Having fun, pretty boy?"

It was more of a statement than a question, causing more
confusion in my poor eleven year old head.  Not knowing the
right answer to the question, I just did what I did best,
which was shrug my shoulders and blush.  

For the next few days I thought I was the luckiest boy in
the whole wide world.  Every morning I just could not wait
to get to Mrs. Taylor's house. And if it looked like we
weren't going I'd get all antsy and upset, almost like a
panic attack.  Juanita teased me about that more than once,
so she knew the impact all this was having on me, even at my
young age.  

"You really enjoy hanging out with us ladies, don't you,
sweet pea?" she asked one morning.

I remember blushing and nodding my head.  "I guess."

My stepmother raised an eyebrow and brushed her fingers
through my hair.  "Good.  We like having you around.  You're
not too bad ... for a boy."

I didn't find out until years later that she knew a lot more
about me than I even suspected. You see, ever since that
first visit to Mrs. Taylor's house, I began to have the most
amazing erections!  Oh, sure, I'd had a few stiff ones
before and I'd spent my share of hours in the bathroom just
staring at and examining my rigid dick.  Like most boys that
age, I was mystified by what it was doing and wondering why
it was doing what it was doing.  (Did that make any sense?)  

The scariest thing to happen was when I woke up one night in
the middle of my first wet dream.  I thought I'd peed in the
bed, and I was really confused to see my belly and privates
coated with a sticky white stuff.  At the time I would have
given anything for an instruction manual.

Anyway, being too young and probably more na‹ve than most, I
figured my little buddy just had a mind of its own.
Sometimes it would shrink up no bigger than my belly button
(I'm an "outie") and sometimes it would swell and stand up
as hard and stiff as my forefinger.  What I couldn't figure
out was, why did it feel so good to touch and why did it
mostly happen when I was around naked women???  

Well, that was what my aunt knew.  She knew good and well
the effect of exposing a young boy to a bunch of
mischievous, uninhibited women.  A little suntan lotion
here, a glimpse of pussy there ... a touch of a nipple here.
She knew all this was imprinting on my young mind and
working its magic inside my body.  She'd seen me squirm and
hide my erections.  She knew what I was doing in the
bathroom all that time.  And that, as I found out way too
late, was why she introduced me to Mrs. Taylor and her
friends in the first place.  If I knew the truth at the
time, what they really had in mind, I would have run
screaming all the way back to my mom's house two counties
away.  But given what I knew right then, I couldn't have
cared less.  I was having fun!

You have to admit it, I mean, come on, this had to be the
best summer job ever and I wasn't even getting paid for it!
Oh, sure, I still got to swim every once in a while, and I
was always quick to help Mrs. Taylor with her cigarette
lighter or fetch the diaper bag for Mrs. Johnston.  Anything
I could do to make myself useful and   most important   to
get an up close and personal view of my stunning clients.

Occasionally, if I was really lucky, I'd get asked to rub a
little lotion in those "hard to reach places" like between
someone's shoulder blades or the tops of a pair of
wonderfully shaped feet.  Or brush my cheek against an
errant nipple while getting a hug.

"Oh, Brandon, sweetheart, you're so good," the gorgeous Mrs.
Taylor said as I rubbed her feet one morning.  She stretched
her nude body like a huge cat, offering me a grand view of
her pubic mound.  "Darling boy, if you were ten years older
I'd marry you."

"I wish I had a camera," Juanita said sweetly.  "I never
thought I'd see my cute little stepson being so helpful to
my pretty girlfriends."

Both women laughed and I heard them whispering.  I probably
should have been paying attention, but what did I care if
they had their secrets?  To them I was just a harmless
little kid.  So what? I was having fun!  To heck with
playing baseball or going to the amusement park!  I had my
own private amusement park all to myself!  Boobs and bare
bottoms and all sorts of forbidden, feminine secrets galore,
right there in front of me!  Things were going my way, yes
sir, and I looked forward to a long and happy summer.


                Chapter Two: The Boy Toy


Then, one day fate played a dirty trick on me. A nasty,
ugly, dirty trick from which I never recovered.

Here's what happened:

One morning Juanita and I arrived at Mrs. Taylor's pool and
we discovered that we'd forgot to bring my bathing suit.
The morning was already hot and humid and I was wearing my
heavy jeans and a t-shirt at the time and had been looking
forward to getting in the pool.  Well, that in addition to
taking care of the ladies, of course.

"Can't we go back and get my suit?" I begged.  "Please?"

"I'm not fighting all that traffic just for a pair of
swimming trunks!" my stepmother declared.  

"But ..."

The look on her face told me to drop the subject ... or
else!

I thought my idea was reasonable, but nobody else did.  When
we got to the pool I asked Mrs. Taylor if she had a bathing
suit I might borrow.  She giggled and suggested I try on one
of her bikini bottoms.  Bridget overheard our conversation
and offered me a pair of panties.  Juanita liked the panty
idea best.

"I'd like to see that," she said with a little girl voice.
"Pretty little Brandy in a pair of pretty panties."

Bridget giggled.  "How cute!  It even sounds sweet!  TrŠs
bien!"

I was so embarrassed to hear two of my favorite people
talking about me like that.  Especially in front of the
other adult women sitting around the patio.   I know, I was
just a little kid and nobody was taking it seriously.  But I
did!  I would have gotten angry if I wasn't so self-
conscious.  

About that time somebody suggested that I go swimming in my
birthday suit.  That really bothered me!  I mean, what if
somebody took that one serious?  I never figured out who the
culprit was, but there was an alarming round of approving
nods and smiles.  To my surprise, my stepmother said that
was actually a good idea and she suggested I do it.

I was dumfounded.  "You're teasing, right?"

"No, really, it sounds perfect to me," she said.  "There's
no reason to not do it."

"Me? Naked? I ... I can't do that!" I said right off.  "No
way, no how!"

"You might as well, Brandon, 'cause we're going to be here
all day long," Juanita said with an odd smile.  "It's either
that or sit in the hot sun in your jeans.  I suppose you
could babysit the little ones if you wanted to sit in the
shade."

I looked over at the toddlers   a couple of tots not even
old enough to go to kindergarten   and I shivered.  Mrs.
Johnston was changing an especially nasty diaper.  I
imagined myself doing the same and I felt like gagging.

"I ... I don't think I can ..." I stammered.

"You could always wear some of my pretty panties," Bridget
teased.  "With your pretty hair, you'd look just like la
jolie fille."

That didn't make any sense.  "What's that?" I asked.
"What'd she say?"

"She said you'd look like a pretty girl," Juanita said with
a giggle.

"That's not funny!"

"Oh, don't be such a sissy!" a familiar voice declared.

I looked over my other shoulder to see my movie star lady
friend grinning at me.  Mrs. Elizabeth Taylor pursed her red
lips and said, "I like the idea of seeing you in your
birthday suit.  We let the other kids go naked all the time.
And you get to see our naked butts every day.  So why not
you, too?"

I shook my head.  "I don't think so."

Our hostess smiled and pressed on.  "Oh, come on, Brandon,
darling.  It's not that big a deal.  How about letting us
see your pretty little tushie?  Just for today?  It won't
bother us at all."

"What if the guys back home ...?"  I licked my lips.  My
mouth was really dry.

Mrs. Taylor held up her hand like she was swearing the
scout's oath.  "We promise we won't tell your buddies back
home, right ladies?"

It kinda made sense.  I mean, nobody would know, right?  And
everything Mrs. Taylor said was true. "The other kids" often
went naked in the pool with their mothers.  And during past
few days I had seen a lot of naked women, that was for sure!
The offer certainly made sense.  Just, not to me!  I just
couldn't do it, 'cause, well, I was too scared!  As a matter
of fact, the very thought of being naked in front of all
those women   even in the safety of the pool   that was just
plain terrifying!

I tried to think of something to say, but I just stood there
and shook my head.

"Come on, Brandon," Bridget cooed.  Her accent made my knees
weak. "Show us your pretty derriŠre.  S'il vous plaŒt?"

Holy crap!  Was this for real?  I closed my eyes and opened
them.  Nope, this was not a dream.  It was real, all right.

To fully appreciate all this you have to understand I was a
pretty shy boy, not unlike most other boys my age.  The
truth was, I was a little pudgy back then and that made me
uncomfortable going around inside the house without a shirt,
much less a pair of pants.  I was as ashamed of my boyish
boobs as I was my bare butt!

Anyway, how I got talked into going swimming in the buff
that day is still a mystery to me.  The important thing is
that I was going to do it.  I could see that right then and
there.  And that's how   I'm sure of this   my life as a
victim of feminine wiles began.

"Well?" Mrs. Elizabeth Taylor nudged me.  "Are you going
swimming or not?"

"I guess if I have to ..." I remember saying.

I don't remember finishing my sentence.  I do remember being
surrounded all at once by Mrs. Taylor and Bridget and my
stepmother.  It was like they'd practiced their moves for
that very moment in time.  All three of them were still in
their bathing suits and they smelled of hairspray, perfume
and cigarettes.  For some reason they all looked so much
taller than usual.  Maybe my knees were finally giving out.  

My heart beat fast as someone loosened my belt and trousers
and somebody else pulled my t-shirt over my head.  I was
suddenly lifted up, flipped upside down and my shoes and
socks and my jeans and underwear were all swept off and
away.  The blood rushed to my head and I felt weak and
helpless.  The next thing I knew I was standing before my
stepmother and her friends, dazed, dizzy and naked as a
newborn kitten!  

"Now, see?" Juanita said, triumphantly holding my
confiscated clothing.  "Was that so hard?"

Red-faced and terrified, I shook my head.  Not knowing what
else to do, I just stood there like a dummy, covering my
naked privates with one hand and my nipples with the other
in a classic pose of shame and bewilderment.

And that's when I got my first spanking of the day.

WHACK!!!

"OW!!!" I cried.  "What'd I do?"

"Stop touching yourself!" my stepmother ordered, giving me a
swat on my butt so sharp it made me squeal like a little
girl.

CRACK!!!

"Ow!  I'm sorry," I said tearfully.  "I ... I was just
hiding my thing ... my ... myself.  You hurt me!"  

THWACK!!!

"OW!!!!"

"And I'll do it again, too, if I see you playing with your
wiener! That's nasty!  Don't ever let me see you doing that
again!" Juanita shook her head and gave me another swift
swat on the butt.  

SMACK!!!

"Especially in front of ladies!"

"Please ... Juanita ... I was just hiding it ..." I sobbed.

"You don't need to hide it.  Nobody's interested in your
little thing.  Just leave it alone.  Nobody cares what it's
doing, so don't touch it.  Understand me?"

A fresh wave of tears burned my eyes.  My stepmother sighed.
"And don't be such a crybaby.  I didn't hit you that hard,
did I?"

"You hurt me," I sniffed.  "I can't help it."

Of course that only brightened Juanita's smile.

"If I hurt you, then maybe I should kiss your fat little
butt and see if that makes it better.  How about that?"

If my face wasn't already red, it sure was after hearing her
say that!  I tried to picture my stepmother kissing my sore
bottom and I rubbed the image from my mind.  Some things
were just too strange to even think about!

Not knowing what to do, I just stood there for the longest
time, hands behind my back, my naked body exposed for the
entire world to see.  The tears in my eyes were as much from
embarrassment as they were from getting spanked.  I knew I
was the center of everybody's attention and I felt like a
complete idiot with so many smiling eyes looking in my
direction.  Trapped in my birthday suit, I was frozen with
fear, which only made things worse.

Something suddenly occurred to me.  I glanced down.  My poor
penis was just as scared as I was, hiding like a frightened
puppy.  It was so tiny it looked like a second belly button
between my chubby eleven year old thighs.  I wondered what
the women on the patio thought when they saw it.  Would they
point and laugh or make ugly faces?  Or would they just
shake their heads with pity.  Nothing I could imagine
sounded good to me.

Unfortunately for me, Bridget was the closest and most
attentive.  The current love of my life stared right at my
boyish parts as she took a drag from her cigarette and
tapped the ashes onto the patio.  She seemed to hover
somewhere between amusement and pity.  I closed my eyes and
sobbed.  

"TrŠs petit," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"It's very cute, but it's so tiny.  Except for that little
bump between his leg, our sweet little Brandy does look like
a plump little jolie fille!"

"That's why it's so pretty, ma chŠre," cooed Mrs. Taylor.
"Because it is trŠs petit. The larger ones, oh my god ...
they are so ugly!  What's the word ...?  Oh, yes ... trŠs
grotesque!  If I never see another man's ... son cigare ...
in my lifetime, it will be too soon.  I much prefer le
chatte de la jolie fille."

I had no idea what she was saying.  It wasn't until much
later that I discovered it had nothing to do with me.
Still, the patio filled with laughter, which was enough for
me.  I was scared, confused and naked, for pity's sake!  I
turned to my stepmother and begged her to take me home.

"Please, Juanita!  I want to go now!  I don't want to do
this!"

Juanita grabbed my chin between her thumb and forefinger,
lifted my face up and looked me dead in the eye.  

"Brandy, please hush," she said.  "You are doing just fine.
Go find something to do.  Swim, help Mrs. Taylor with her
lotion or maybe get something to drink.  We're going to be
here a long time."

"I'm NOT fine!" I yelled.  "I want to go home right now!!!
And my name's BRANDON, NOT BRANDY!!!"

My stepmother gave me a hard look.  "If you're going to fuss
and pout, I can give you something to cry about.  Right here
in front of everybody ... BRANDY!!!"

In a last ditch moment of desperation I stuck out my lower
lip and shouted, "You're being mean to me!  All of you!
Gimme back my clothes!  I want to go home!"  

Yeah.  Like that was going to help.

WHAP!!!  

My head spun when my stepmother slapped my face.  A fresh
wave of tears streamed down my cheeks.  I remember right
then I glanced over at Mrs. Taylor and Bridget as I tasted
the salty tears on my lips.  The look on both their faces
unnerved me.  Here I was, trapped in a living nightmare,
naked and beaten, and they were smiling like they enjoyed
the scene!

I was surprised to see Juanita smiling as well.  She seemed
oddly happy, which scared me silly.

"See what you get?  Nobody's being mean, Brandy," she said.
"You're the one who's acting ugly.  We're just trying to
have a little fun.  Now, you can either wipe that frown off
your face and be a nice boy, or I'm going to whip your
little butt right here in front of Mrs. Taylor and all her
guests.  Don't test me, 'cause I'll do it.  Mrs. Taylor
won't mind, will you, darling?"

Our hostess nodded and flashed a smile worthy that of a
movie star, a sign that she approved of anything my
stepmother came up with.  

"Don't pay any attention to me, darling.  I'm just here for
the show," she said.

The lovely Bridget merely shot a glance at my privates, took
another drag from her cigarette and winked.

I don't know why I defied my stepmother.  Maybe I thought I
was going to impress Mrs. Taylor.  Most likely I thought I
was going to impress Bridget.  Realistically, I don't know
if I thought I'd actually get away with it.  But I had to
try one more time.  I was a boy, not "la jolie fille," and I
was certainly not some little baby who was afraid of its own
shadow.

Summing up what little courage I had left, I gritted my
teeth, evened up my feet and put my hands on my naked hips.
Then, in the most defiant, steady voice I could muster, I
sealed my doom.

"You can't make me do this!  You're not my mother, so I
don't have to do what you say.  So gimme my clothes and take
me home!  RIGHT NOW!"

The next few minutes were in slow motion, everything crystal
clear, the sights, the sounds ... the sensations.  I
remember everything that happened, every nuance of every
second of every minute.  As hard as I try to forget, I
remember it all.  It was one of the most painful and
humiliating moments of my young life.

Juanita didn't bother bending me over her knee right away.
That didn't happen until much, much later.  Instead, she
started off by grabbing by my long hair, expertly spinning
me around and laying into my tender, plump bottom with her
bare hand.  The first smack felt like a hot iron.  The
second felt like an electric shock.  That's when I realized
I had made a serious, deadly mistake.

"I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!" I began screaming. "I'm
sorry, please, God, I'm so sorry!"

"I think it's time Brandy learned who is in charge around
here," my stepmother announce in a firm, determined voice.

I tried to apologize again, but it was too late.  I'd given
Juanita the excuse she'd been waiting for.  She had wanted
me to defy her, to give her the chance to make her point.
I'd done exactly what she'd wanted, and in front of her
friends, yet!  My stepmother was in heaven ... and so was
our appreciative audience.

"Poor, poor boy," said Bridget.  I remember hearing her say
that, but when I looked over her smile belied her words.  

"It hurts, I know, ma chŠre," she said warmly.  "But just
think how wonderful it will feel when it is over."

"OWWWWW!!!" I screamed in genuine terror.  "But it hurts
now!!!  OWWWWW!!!"

"Since he's only eleven years old, how about keeping it to
eleven blows, darling?" suggested Mrs. Taylor.  "The poor
thing isn't used to this."

Juanita gritted her teeth.  "That's probably about right.
I'll just warm him up with my hand, first, though."

At the time I thought that was a really odd conversation,
but to tell the truth, I had other things to worry about.

After five hard smacks my stepmother paused long enough to
drag me over to a carved stone pedestal in the center of the
patio.  Sobbing like a little baby, I thought she was going
to sit down and then pull me over her lap. Instead, she did
something much worse.

"Down on your knees!  You heard me, down on your knees!"

I was confused and scared, but I did as I was told.  I knelt
down before the giant stone as directed.  Juanita then made
me lean forward and rest my arms on it, like I was going to
say my bedtime prayers.  When I saw what she had in her
hand, prayer looked like my only hope.

Someone had given my stepmother a slender green stick.  I
later found out it was bamboo cane, very thin, very
flexible.  I watched   and listened   in horror as she
expertly cut the air with her new toy.  It actually made a
buzzing sound, like a nest of hornets or some equally angry
insect.  

"Please, Juanita, I'm so, so sorry.  Please, don't hit me
any more ..."

That was when I realized that being on my knees before that
stone pedestal put my bare butt in the exact spot for it to
receive a whipping.  I already hurt so bad, I couldn't
imagine getting hit with something as wicked as that thin
green switch.

"Please ... don't ..."

"Don't you dare move ..." my stepmother warned.

I was so scared by the first blow I lost control and I
accidentally peed on the patio.  I couldn't believe I did
that!  It was awful, right there in front of everybody, like
a bad, ill-trained puppy.  I felt horrible as the warm
liquid poured out of my penis, but I couldn't help it.  I
couldn't stop it, I couldn't even slow it down, I was so
scared.

"PLEASE!!!!!  I'll be good!  I promise!" I screamed.

I tried to get up, but a warm hand pressed down between my
shoulder blades.

"You can clean up your mess when I'm through," my stepmother
said quietly.  "It still won't get you out of trouble with
me, though."

"Poor baby," said someone else.  "The child is so
frightened, and yet so pretty. Let me help."

I glanced up.  It was Bridget.  There was that strange look
on her face again, somewhere between pity and amusement.
Her eyes locked on mine and I could have sworn they were
laughing, they sparkled so bright.  

That's when I realized ... this young woman actually thought
that me passing urine in front of her and the other ladies
was funny.  She even said I looked ... pretty?  I looked up
as she knelt across from me and took hold of my wrists.  I
was shocked at how strong she was.  She locked my arms down
so tight on the cool stone I had no hope of escape.  Her
smile confused me.  This wasn't right.  The shame I felt was
unbearable.

"Go ahead," said Mrs. Taylor.  "Bridget can hold him.  You
may as well start over.  I think I've lost track."

Any protests I had were lost in the wave of laughter and
giggles prompted by Mrs. Taylor's little joke.  All I could
do was I look up at Bridget and bite my lip.

"Look into my eyes, ma chŠre," whispered the smiling French
beauty.  "I'll keep you safe."

That didn't make any sense, but I did as she said.  There
was nothing else for me to do.

Following Mrs. Taylor's advice, Juanita hit me the suggested
eleven times with the bamboo stick.  It was a good thing she
stopped when she did, too, as I doubt I could have taken any
more.  It only took one to take my breath away and one more
to get me screaming.  Receiving the other nine felt like the
end of the world. The ferocity of each blow was ... well,
indescribable.  Eleven slow, deliberate strikes, each
expertly placed, both in location and in time.  Each
preceded by that nasty wasp-like buzzing noise. Never the
same place more than once, always on a fresh, tender target.
In perfect rhythm with the ebb and flow of my heartbeat, my
breathing and my sobbing.  The timing maximized the amount
of pain without letting it die.  It would be the worst
physical pain I would ever feel in my entire life.

First one ... and then two ... three ... four ... and
finally ... all eleven strikes were landed.  The entire
episode only lasted a few long, agonizing minutes.  My
crying, on the other hand, went on for much longer.  

Little did I know, this scene would be repeated several
times throughout the remainder of the summer ...

During what was an otherwise beautiful morning, amidst the
sound of birds singing and little children playing, I'd been
stripped naked, humiliated, beaten and soiled, all in front
of an audience that seemed to delight in my every torment.
It wasn't just the pain on my buttocks or the backs of my
legs that hurt; my pride was destroyed and my spirit broken.
How could I look anybody in the eye again?  What would I
say?  What would they say?

At the tender age of eleven, my life was over.  Or so I
thought.

When it was over my stepmother left me kneeling there long
enough to get most of my crying done.  After a while she
knelt alongside me and lifted my face up directly in front
of hers.  Terrified, I tried to pull away, afraid of getting
hit again.  But she was so much stronger and she had little
trouble making me do as she wanted.  Against my better
judgment I looked up toward her face and was surprised to
see a gentle, loving smile.

"Are you ready to be a good boy?"

I wiped the tears from my face with my hands and nodded.  I
tried to stifle a final sob and failed miserably.

"It's okay, baby.  Now, are you going to do as I say and
have a good time?  This can be fun for all of us, you know.
Even for you.  All you have to do is what we say.  Do you
think you can do that?"

I didn't need any prompting.  I nodded once more.

"I can't hear you nod."

I swallowed, then took a deep breath.  "Yes, ma'am.  I'll be
good."

"And?" my stepmother raised an eyebrow.

I thought for a second.  "And ... I'll ... have a good time.
I promise."

"Then smile for me."

I had to think for another second.  As far as I was
concerned there wasn't much to smile about.  But, I did as I
was told.  It felt weird.  It hurt, in fact.  But I did it
anyway.

Juanita smiled back.  Then she did something that shocked
me.  She leaned forward and kissed me, right on the lips,
believe it or not!  Not much, but enough to surprise the
heck out of me.  Talk about confusing!

"That's much better.  You have a really pretty smile.  Today
is the day to use it.  Now, are you going swimming or are
you just going to stay there and look pretty?"

"I vote for looking pretty," Mrs. Taylor said, her voice
oozing with sweetness.  Both she and Bridget had moved in
close to check on my recovery.  Mrs. Taylor looked down at
me with her movie star smile and laughed an elegant laugh.
"You know, Brandy, with your lovely long hair and cute
little butt, you look just like a lovely little cherub.
Perhaps I should have Bridget paint you as one."

I looked at the young French woman.  Paint me?  She was an
artist?

Bridget gave me another of her intimidating stares.  "Mon
petit ange," she said softly.

The older woman laughed.  "That's lovely, darling.  The
title of your latest portrait,  'My Little Cherub' ..."

My face burned bright red as the two women's eyes ran up and
down my naked body.  Portrait?  Cherub?  What the heck was
she talking about?  Something was definitely wrong, but
there wasn't a thing I could do about it for the moment.

"Come here, darling angel."  Mrs. Taylor sat down on her
lounge chair and motioned for me to approach.  "I need
someone to put some lotion on my poor back."

Juanita stopped me.  "I think the first thing Brandy needs
to do is clean up where he peed on your patio."  

Oh, yeah ... I'd almost forgot.  Geez ... Why did I have to
pee in front of everybody?  I felt sick to hear it put into
words. I remember glancing over at Bridget again.  Those
smiling eyes of hers made me blush all over, like I was
reliving that horrible moment all over again. I felt like a
bad puppy dog.

Mrs. Taylor agreed.  "Go into the kitchen and look under the
sink, darling.  Thelma keeps a plastic pail with a scrub
brush and some cleaning supplies there.  That will make your
job a little bit easier."

It didn't take long to scrub and rinse the patio.  It just
seemed like it did, since I had to do it naked in front of
my stupid stepmother and her stupid friends.  

"Get down on your hands and knees and use some elbow grease,
Brandy," Juanita instructed.  "I better not see a stain
there when you're done!"

Sniffing back tears of shame, I thought about what happened
as I worked.  I hadn't peed on accident in years, much less
let go in front of bunch of women.  How could I have done
that?  I must have been really scared, I figured.  Playing
the scene back in my mind, I shivered.  The buzzing sound of
that bamboo stick haunted my memory.  Yep, I was most
definitely really scared!

Things sure weren't going right for me that day.  Visiting
Mrs. Taylor used to be so much fun.  But now, well, all I
had to do was sit down or have someone accidentally touch my
aching butt to remind me that everything was going terribly,
terribly wrong.

To make matters worse, while I was trapped in my stupid
birthday suit, I noticed that everyone else was still
dressed.  When I put lotion on Mrs. Taylor, this time she
made no effort to drop her bathing suit top or undo her
bottom.  And neither had Bridget nor Juanita, for that
matter!  And Mrs. Johnston and the other ladies, they
weren't even wearing bathing suits.  Instead, they were
attired in either shorts or a skirt of some sort.  Even the
toddlers were completely dressed, which was unusual.  I
blinked as I realized that I was the sole naked person on
the patio that day.  I felt a chill go down my spine as I
also realized I had unknowingly developed an erection!

Great!  First I'm naked, then I get a whipping so bad I pee
in front of everybody, now I got a hardon!  What the heck
was I going to do now???

I tried to hide my shame the best I could, but that was
impossible given the warning my stepmother directed
regarding touching myself.  No matter how I knelt, sat or
crouched, it had a mind of its own and it wanted to be seen.
I finally just had to give up.  Let me tell you, standing
there in front of all those women with your penis sticking
out like a miniature antenna or something, it was the worst
feeling I'd ever had.  There was nothing that felt worse.
Absolutely nothing!

"Look, mommy!" one of the younger kids squealed.  "Brandy's
dicky's sticking!"

That set off a wave of laughter and delighted stares.  That
was exactly what I needed!  I thought about running away and
dismissed it as suicidal.

"So what's with that?" my stepmother said when she saw my
erection.  "I thought you didn't like being naked and
getting a spanking in front of a bunch of old ladies."

"I don't," I pouted.  "It's just doing it on its own and I
can't help it."

Juanita glanced down at my treacherous little appendage and
grinned.  "Hmmm, I'm thinking you're enjoying yourself more
than you admit.  Maybe I ought to whip you more often."

I blushed like crazy when Mrs. Taylor entered the
conversation.  "Your mother is right, Brandy, darling.  Your
little lie detector is giving you away.  It's obvious to
anybody who sees you.  Just don't bump your little friend
into anything.  We don't want you hurting yourself."

The mischievous smile on the pretty woman's face made me
feel about five years old.  I would have cried if I hadn't
been so scared.

With the conversation apparently over, my stepmother spun me
around and pushed me toward the kitchen.  "Okay, pretty boy,
playtime's over.  It's time to fix some snacks."

I blinked.  "But ... I thought I get to go swimming."

Juanita shot me her hard look.  "We spent your playtime
giving you a whipping.  Remember?"

"But, if I don't go swimming, what's the point of not
wearing any clothes?"

She pointed her index finger at me.  "Do you want another
whipping, or are you going to do as I say?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed.  "I'm going to do as you say,"
I said with a choked up voice.

"Good.  Now, get to it!"

As I carried on with my chores I tried my best to act as
though nothing was wrong, which was really difficult.  Just
stepping from the kitchen onto the crowded patio was a
shameful experience, knowing that my stupid penis was
pointing whichever way I headed.  Worse than embarrassing,
it actually got in the way when I had to squeeze between two
adults or hold something in my lap.  I even cried when I
turned and it knocked a cup of tea off a table.  Yes, I
knocked it off with my stupid penis!  Oh, sure, it's funny
now.  You should have seen my face when it happened.  I was
mortified!!!

Mrs. McCarty, the lady who'd been drinking the fallen
beverage, stared first at the cup, then at my stiff organ
and then at my stepmother.  A broad smile spread across her
face and suddenly the whole company burst out in laughter.
The smiling woman then looked up at me with a wink and
suggested I bring her another drink ... in a fresh cup.  I
was so humiliated, I started crying.  My tears,
unfortunately, did nothing to stave off the looks of
amusement and delight.  

Nobody said anything directly to me about my erection, but I
could hear the whispers and giggles.  Even worse, nobody
bothered to disguise their curiosity.  I could literally
feel each pair of eyes roaming my plump body, tickling my
penis and silently laughing.  Even the toddlers stared at
me.  At one point I decided that if there was such thing as
Hell, it would be having to run around naked in front of a
bunch of females for all of eternity.

I never quite got over my shyness that morning, but I
somehow managed to enjoy myself a little when I finally
finished my chores and slipped into the swimming pool.   My
poor butt and the backs of my legs still burned from the
whipping, but as long as I stayed in the water I was fine.
I played and I splashed around like it was any other day.
Usually one or two of the adult women would join me, but not
today, thank goodness.  Best yet, the cool water calmed my
erection, drawing my treasonous little friend up into its
safe hiding place.  I forced myself to forget all about my
bare butt and penis as I raced and swam in the summer water
like any other eleven year old boy.  At that moment I guess
I thought I was having fun.

For the longest time the only reason I got out of the pool
was to jump off the diving board.  Mrs. Taylor dared me to
do it and even promised me a surprise if I did.  With a bit
of coaxing from Juanita and Bridget and the rest, I finally
left the safety of the water and tackled this new challenge.

Jumping off the diving board was kind of scary, in more ways
than one.  Besides having to face my fear of heights, I
would have to get out of the pool, walk   no running, of
course!   around to the deep end, climb five steps and then
walk (again, no running!) the length of the board before
jumping into the water.  All of this while nude, of course.
It felt so strange, standing on the edge of the diving
board, stark naked in front of all those smiling women.  I
was just grateful there weren't any girls around.  

At least my penis wasn't sticking out anymore!

Anyway, I did this about a dozen times before Juanita was
able to convince me to dive in head first.  Despite the
dubious circumstances, this was actually a huge deal for me.
Between my fear of heights and the embarrassment of being
naked, the excitement was exhilarating!  Everyone cheered
the first time I did it and I actually enjoyed it when they
all gathered around me and I was smothered with hugs and
kisses.  Thank goodness I didn't get another erection.  That
would have been horrible!

"Here you go, darling," Mrs. Taylor said.  "Remember, I
promised you a prize for being so brave?  How about a pretty
medal to wear?"

I watched as the smiling lady held up a thin gold chain.  It
was a necklace of some sort.  I stood awkwardly as she
slipped it around my throat and latched it in place.  I
looked down and wrinkled my nose.  It looked like something
a girl would wear.

"What is that?" I said suspiciously.  "It's not a fairy, is
it?"

Mrs. Taylor gave an elegant laugh and caressed my new
jewelry.  "No, silly boy, it's not a fairy.  It's a
butterfly.  What's the matter, don't you like it?  I think
it looks very nice on you."

I glanced at Juanita and then Bridget.  "Um, I ... I like it
fine.  Thank you, Mrs. Taylor."

"I'm not done, ma chŠre.  Now, have a seat next to me. Your
hair is a mess."  I did as I was told.  "You should take
care of your hair, darling.  It is a precious thing, you
know?"

It felt funny sitting naked in front of everybody and having
my hair brushed.  But it was kind of nice, too.  I had never
paid much attention when I brushed it, but Mrs. Taylor took
her time and seemed to really enjoy working with it.  By the
time she was done she had brushed it out until it was dry,
with a part in the middle and the sides combed over my ears.
I felt her put something in it.  When I reached up to touch
it, I found it was a flower.

"It's a small orchid from my garden," Mrs. Taylor said
proudly.  "It looks very nice."

I started to protest having a flower in my hair, but I
decided not to push my luck.  I did notice, however, my
stepmother giving me a look of approval as our hostess gave
me big hug and a kiss.  Maybe I did something right for
once.

As it got closer to lunch I quickly found myself in my
regular routine, running around in my birthday suit and
bringing ice and refilling drinks as though I always did
this kind of thing naked.  I tried to get out of it, but the
women all oozed niceties and compliments about how good a
diver I was and how nice my little butterfly looked and how
pretty my hair was with a flower in it, anything to flatter
me.  I soon found myself glowing in my newfound attention
and doing as I was told.

When lunchtime finally did come around I looked for my
clothes, which had oddly disappeared. My stepmother said not
to worry, that they were put away to keep from getting
splashed on.

"So don't even bother asking about them for the rest of the
day," warned Juanita.  "I put them away and that's all you
need to know.  Besides, you're going back in the pool after
lunch, so why bother?"

"But ..."

"Do you want another whipping?"

I felt a chill sweep over my nakedness.  If I had a goal in
life, it was to never get another spanking for as long as I
lived.

"Never mind," I sighed.

"I thought you'd see it my way."  My stepmother touched the
flower my hair and kissed me on the cheek.  "Trust me,
sweetie, you'll have more fun if you just give it up and
relax."

"I just don't like going with no clothes on, Juanita.
Everybody can see ... can see how fat I am.""

"Poor baby.  You're not fat.  You're pleasing plump."

I looked up at my stepmother.  "Isn't that the same as fat?"

She cupped my face in both hands and kissed me on the lips.
"Brandy, sweetie, stop it.  You are very, very pretty little
boy.  Believe me, we wouldn't let you run around like that
if you weren't.  Did you ever think of that?"

I shook my head.  I hadn't thought of a lot of things that
day.

Juanita laughed and sent me to help our hostess fix
sandwiches and drinks for our traditional lunch.  I did as I
was told and prayed for the day to hurry up and come to an
end.

"I am so lucky to have such a pretty little cherub assisting
me today," Mrs. Taylor said as I picked up a tray and headed
for the patio.  I had to grin, as she had a way of smiling
at me as to make me feel wonderful about myself.  "I just
love pretty little boys!  Your hair is so pretty with that
little orchid and you are just so cute in your little
birthday suit, I could just eat you up!"

I blushed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
"Um, thanks, Mrs. Taylor."

I don't even remember eating lunch that day.  I was so busy
running around bare butt naked, serving sandwiches and
snacks and drinks to my stepmother and her friends.
Afterward they set up their card game and put me to work
serving fresh drinks.  Whenever I thought about complaining
about either my work or my state of nudity, one of the women
would pull me close, kiss me on the cheek and pat my naked
butt.  It didn't take much flattering to get me to continue
on with my chores in my bare skin.  

I can't remember exactly what else happened after that,
except that I spent a lot of time standing at Mrs. Elizabeth
Taylor's side during their gin rummy match.  She insisted,
saying that I was her good luck charm, her guardian "angel."
I suppose I was, as she won several hands and was eventually
declared the day's champion. At the end of the game Mrs.
Taylor credited me with her good fortune and I had to endure
even more attention when everyone insisted on giving me a
hug and a kiss.  More than one of my admirers kissed me on
the lips, sending a scary thrill through my entire body and
causing my poor penis to stand up once again.

This time Mrs. Taylor was the one to comment on my
condition.  "Your little dick is so adorable," she said
quite proudly.  "Son petit cigare, eh, ma chŠre?"

"Oui, though perhaps I might say petit 'queue,' Madame,"
replied Bridget.  "He is a beautiful little boy.  I love
beautiful boys.  I only wish my pretty one was here for him
to play with."  She then whispered something to Mrs. Taylor
in French and both women giggled like school girls.

I thought that was an odd thing to say.  I started to ask
what Bridget meant when she mentioned "her pretty one."  Who
 or what?   the heck was that?  Before I did, she came up
behind me, slipped her arms around my waist and gave me a
hug and a kiss on the cheek.  Her hands felt cool on my bare
belly. She tickled my belly button, and then let her fingers
slide over the smooth skin just above my pubic area.  For an
instant I thought she was actually going to touch my penis.
She never did.  Instead, she gave me another tickle and then
laughed as my boyish organ wagged around like the tail on a
happy puppy.

"How funny!" Bridget laughed.  "It's like you have a little
playmate to keep you company wherever you go.  Isn't that
fun?  I bet you and the other little boys just love playing
with your petit queue, eh?  Does that not sound like fun?"

"I would love to see that, ma chŠre," said Mrs. Taylor.
"Boys cannot keep their hands off their little toys.  And
very often each others.  Isn't that right, Brandy darling?"

I looked at the smile on Mrs. Taylor's face.  Was she
serious?  I tried to imagine what they were saying and I
didn't like it.  Boys playing with each other's wieners?
Yuck! I didn't play with other boys wieners!  How could
these people say such things? Didn't they know how
humiliated I was already???

As I pondered my predicament I suddenly realized I'd spent
most of the afternoon completely bare for no reason at all.
Stupid me, I'd forgot to go swimming!  No, really, I'd
gotten sidetracked and never even thought about getting back
in the pool again. Instead, I spent all my time stark naked
in the middle of all those silly women, grinning and
giggling like some sort of idiot.  How in the world had that
happened? It felt like some weird dream that I couldn't wake
up from.  The absurdity of my situation made me giddy and
excited, which pleased my stepmother to no end.

"Now, see?  Wasn't this fun?" Juanita said toward the end of
the day.  "You can't tell me you didn't have a good time.
Mrs. Taylor even gave you a gift."

I just shrugged my shoulders.  I was busy getting hugs and
kisses as the guests began leaving.  Still, I thought about
what she said.  A girlie butterfly necklace and flowers in
my hair weren't exactly something I could brag about to my
buddies back home.  But I kept my mouth shut.  There was
nothing I could say.

Before leaving for home I was sent to put away the dirty
dishes and half-empty glasses.  And there were plenty!  I
must have made a dozen trips to the kitchen, there was so
much stuff to pick up!  Miss Thelma, Mrs. Taylor's
housekeeper appeared out of nowhere as I stood naked at the
sink washing dishes.  I could feel the eyes of the huge
black woman watching me as I performed my assigned tasks.  
I tried to act like there was nothing wrong with the way I
was "not-dressed," but the broad smile on her face reignited
my shame and humiliation.

"I'd sure like to take you home with me, honey child," the
heavyset lady said with a laugh.  "My girls sure would love
having a cute little white boy doin' their chores for them.
Of course, they might have trouble thinkin' of you as a boy,
bein' as pretty as you are.  They would be so tickled, they
wouldn't know what to do with such a delicate little thing."

I bit my lip and shrugged my shoulders.  "This wasn't my
idea.  My stepmother is making me do this," I said with a
weak voice.

Thelma shook her head and smiled. "That's not what the
missus told me.  She done said that you was 'artistic' and
that you liked doing all sorts of fancy girlie stuff.  You
sure must like lookin' like a girl, what with that flower in
your pretty blond hair and that girlie jewelry and all.  And
I don't see nobody makin' you run 'round with no clothes on.
Just a little while ago you was laughin' and havin' a big
ol' time.  Now, who'm I supposed to believe?  Missus Taylor
or some nekkid little girlie boy?"

I felt so frustrated for her to think I was in my birthday
suit because I liked it.  I didn't want her   or anybody,
for that matter!   to think that I was some goofy, fruity
fairy boy who liked running around with no clothes!  But
after hearing her talk, well, there wasn't anything I could
say to convince this smiling, head-shaking black woman
otherwise.

One thing she said really scared me.  I imagined what it
would be like to have a bunch of black girls watching me in
my bare skin, teasing and pointing and laughing at me.  That
gave me the creeps!  I mean, I didn't think I could survive
being seen naked by girls my own age, much less some black
girls.  I glanced up at the grinning Miss Thelma.  Boy, I
was thrilled that I didn't have to go home with her!

When it finally came time to go to our home Juanita made up
some excuse for me to ride in the car in my birthday suit.
Something about not being able to find my clothes or concern
about me getting suntan lotion on them or something equally
lame.  By that time I was weary and unable to argue.  I do
remember riding in the bucket seat of her sports car, my
bare bottom   still sore from my morning whipping   sticking
to the leather upholstery.  Of course, my stepmother
insisted on taking the long route back with the convertible
top down.  All the way home I was worried sick that a gang
of girls would peek over and see my shameful plight.  At
least I remembered to pull that stupid orchid out of my
hair!

Needless to say, as soon as we got home I made a beeline for
my bedroom and got into the first pair of pants I could
find.  I could hear Juanita laughing all the way from
downstairs.

"You're lucky I don't keep you that way around the house,
pretty boy!" she teased.  "It would certainly save me from
doing a lot of laundry."

I started to shout back something, but thought the better of
it.  She might change her mind, and I sure didn't want that
to happen.  Instead, I dug up a t-shirt and shoes and spent
the remainder of the day hiding in my room and wondering
what had gone wrong.  


         Chapter Three:  A Conspiracy Unveiled!


The next morning started out pretty much the same as the one
before.  We got up, dilly-dallied around the house for a
while and got ready to go.  I really didn't want to face all
those women again, not after what happened yesterday.  But I
knew there was no use arguing about it.  This time, however,
I wouldn't be caught with my pants down, so to speak.  I
took the precaution of putting on my bathing suit and
wearing it during the ride over to Mrs. Taylor's house.
Juanita didn't mention anything about it, but I do remember
her smiling like a cat swallowing a canary.

There was one question that kept nagging at me, however, and
I questioned my stepmother as we pulled into Mrs. Taylor's
neighborhood.

"Mrs. Taylor keeps calling me her 'cherub.'  What the heck
is a cherub, anyway?" I asked.  "Is that some sort of sissy
thing?"

Juanita looked at me and smiled.  "A cherub is a little
angel," she said.  "You know, like a cupid, only cuter."

"A cupid?  You mean, like a fairy?"

"No, dear, I mean like a cupid.  It's a compliment, sweetie.
Don't be so paranoid."

Paranoid?  Me?

"A cupid, huh?" I made a face and shook my head.  "It sounds
like she thinks I'm a sissy.  Like when she keeps calling me
'Brandy.'  You've been calling me that, too.  Brandy's a
girl's name.  My name is 'Bran-DON,'  not 'Bran-DEE.'  I
don't like being called a girl's name."

My stepmother grinned.  "Everybody knows what your name is,
'Brandon.'  We just call you 'Brandy' 'cause we think it's
cute.  And since you're so cute, it just seems to fit.  It's
all in good fun.  You don't have to be a big crybaby about
it, you know."

I thought about that for a minute.  

"So, um ... you all don't think I'm a sissy?"

"As long as you keep acting like a crybaby, why shouldn't
we?"  Juanita grinned.  "So what's a sissy, anyway?  It's
just a word.  Do you even know what a sissy is?"

"Of course!  It's ... um ... I ..."  Seeing the grin on her
face, I decided to change the subject.  

"Is Mrs. Taylor ... was she serious about Bridget painting a
picture of me as, um, a cherub?  Can Bridget really do
that?"

Juanita nodded her head.  "Sweetie, Bridget is a very
capable young woman.  Believe it or not, she has an art
studio in France where she makes a very good living.  People
pay Bridget a lot of money to paint their portrait."

That didn't make me feel any better.  I thought about the
pretty French woman and how much she contributed to my pain
the day before.

"Well, she's not going to paint me with no clothes on," I
said as we pulled into the driveway.

My stepmother shut the engine off and turned and looked at
me.  "Are you asking or are you telling?"

There was that hard look in her eyes.  The same look she'd
get before spanking my butt.  I tried to swallow and ended
up almost choking.

"Um, I was just saying ... I'm not going to let her ..."

SLAP!!!!

My head spun and everything went dark as I felt the effects
of being slapped across the face.  Before I could recover my
eyes watered up and my nose began to run.  It wasn't the
pain that hurt so much as the humiliation.

Juanita shook her head.  "I'd watch my mouth if I were you,
'Bran-DON.'  You don't go around saying what adults can and
cannot do.  Do you understand that?"

It took everything I had to keep from crying.  I was able to
nod my head, though.

"Remember, I won't hesitate to spank your bare butt again."

I nodded again.  I was too scared to do anything else.

My stepmother pointed a well-manicured finger in front of my
face.  "And speaking of which, you better not ever pee in
front of people again, either.  Just because you didn't have
any pants on, that's no excuse!  That was disgusting!  You
embarrassed me in front of all of my friends ... my adult
friends, Bran-DEE!  Don't you ever do that again!!!"

My face burned bright red and a fresh wave of tears flowed
down my cheeks.  Of all the things I didn't want to talk
about, why did she pick that?!

"Yes, ma'am," I whispered hoarsely.  "I ... I won't ... I
promise ..."

I broke down and cried like a little kid.  It was so
humiliating, but I couldn't help it.  It wasn't just the
pain of getting slapped across the face that hurt; it was
having to listen to my stepmother tell me something that she
should not have to.  Peeing in front of a bunch of grown up
women.  Wow ... that made going naked look respectable!

Through my tears I looked up at my stepmother.  To my
surprise, her face broke out with a beaming smile.  It was
like she actually enjoyed seeing me miserable.  I never
understood that, not even to this day.

"Well, that's enough of that.  Let's go have a little fun,
Bran-DEE.  Come along, little cherub, put on your happy face
and get out of the car!  You're still wearing that pretty
necklace Mrs. Taylor gave you, right?"

I wiped my face with a tissue, blew my snotty nose and
nodded.  "I couldn't get it off.  I couldn't undo the lock
and the little chain won't go over my head."

"Good.  That's what we thought.  Here, wipe your face again.
That's it.  Now, let's go have some fun."

I blew my nose again and forced myself to smile.  "Yes,
ma'am."

"Remember your manners," Juanita whispered as we passed
through the gate alongside the huge house.  "You'll do as
you're told or I will keep my promise about that spanking."

I sighed.  "Yes, ma'am."

"And do have some fun, dear. We don't want you to be unhappy
all the time."

"Yes, ma'am."

As we made our way around to the back garden, I thought
about what my stepmother said.  I guess being called a
"cherub" wasn't so bad.  It was way better than being called
a fairy, that's for sure!

"Good morning, Juanita.  And there's my pretty boy!" Mrs.
Elizabeth Taylor gushed when we arrived at her patio.  

The smiling woman put down the flowers she'd been picking
and she pulled me in for a close hug, burying my face in
between her ample breasts.  I didn't even try to resist.  It
might have been embarrassing, but at least it wasn't a slap
in the face.

"Oh, Brandy, darling, I am so glad you're here.  Everybody
had such a good time with you yesterday, I was hoping you'd
come back to see me!"

I didn't say anything.  After all that happened the day
before, I was about half afraid to breathe without
permission.

Our hostess seemed really excited.  "I know you probably
can't wait to go swimming.  Go ahead and get ready if you
like.  And feel free to run around in your birthday suit all
day if you like.  It won't bother us old ladies in the
least."

Juanita looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"I, um ... I brought my bathing suit, Mrs. Taylor," I said
feebly, gesturing toward the garment covering my bottom.  "I
don't wanna go naked today."

Instead of saying, "But, of course, darling," and going on
to something else, Mrs. Taylor made a big scene,
embarrassing the heck out of me and no doubt amusing anyone
within earshot.  

"Oh, no!  That will never do, ma chŠre!  You simply must
take off that ridiculous thing!  I was hoping you'd treat us
to visions of your sweet little derriŠre!  You can't be my
little cherub if you're going to wear some silly old bathing
suit."

"But ... I ... but ..."

The voluptuous beauty made a childish pouty face.  The mock
pitifulness would have made me laugh if I hadn't been so
scared.  

"You're not going to ruin our fun, are you?  There's nobody
here to see but us girls.  You did so well all day long
yesterday and we all had such a good time.  Can't you do it
again for little ol' me?  Be my little cherub again?  Pretty
please?"

I looked over at my stepmother.  She had a very displeased
look on her face.  I could still feel the heat in my face
from being slapped only a short while before.  Maybe I was
going about this the wrong way ...

To make a long story short, it took just a few seconds
before I was standing in front of the lovely Mrs. Taylor in
naught but my birthday suit.  I don't know how she did it,
but she talked me out of my clothes.  I didn't even try to
resist as I handed over my bathing suit, t-shirt, socks and
shoes.  I just sighed and tried not letting it bother me.

"Now, isn't that so much better!  You'll have more fun and
be more comfortable without this ugly old thing.  I'll have
Thelma put it away."

I watched helplessly as my friend Miss Thelma appeared out
of nowhere.  She snorted as Mrs. Taylor handed her my
bathing suit  The smile on her face devastated me.

"Oh, and look!" Mrs. Taylor cried with delight.  "Brandy is
even wearing the little butterfly pendant I gave him!  It
looks so sweet on you, darling.  It goes perfectly with your
pretty face and hair.  And look how it complements your
lovely neck and shoulders.  I'm so glad I gave it to you and
I'm so glad you like wearing it."

I kicked the patio tile with my bare toe.  "Thanks, Mrs.
Taylor," I said hoarsely.  

Mrs. Taylor beamed with delight when I said that and she
pulled my chin up and planted a light kiss right on my lips.
I was blushing like crazy when she let me go with a playful
pat on the butt.  

Juanita shot me a wink and a smile of approval.  

"Now that was very nice of you, sweetie," my stepmother
whispered in my ear.  "Keep it up and you'll find Mrs.
Taylor can be very nice, too."

I couldn't believe it!  I did something right for once.

And so for the next few minutes I stood there on Mrs.
Taylor's patio, completely naked and at her mercy.  The
grinning woman gloated and giggled and complimented me until
I was red with embarrassment.  I mean, she was like a child
with a new toy, she was so excited.  She could hardly keep
her hands off me, touching my bare shoulder and patting my
bottom and tickling my belly as she pleased.  All of this
attention triggered an erection, and I had to force myself
not to cover it with my hands for fear of getting my bottom
spanked or my face slapped.  

"How cute!  How very delicious!  Let me give it a little
kiss!" Mrs. Taylor put her forefinger to her lips and then
reached down and touched the pink mushroom tip at the end of
my erect penis.  I couldn't believe she did that!  I mean
... who would have thought of doing such a thing?  My face
burned red and my knees went weak and I thought I would
melt, it felt so ... so weird!  

"I don't know how you can stand it, Juanita.  He is so
adorable!  If I had a little boy as pretty as your little
Brandy, I could just hug on him and love him all day long.
Just like a life-sized dolly!"

"He's for sale if you want him," my stepmother said.  She
winked at me.  "It wouldn't cost you much."

Mrs. Taylor stood back and looked me up and down as though
she was actually considering it.  "I just might.  One thing
is for sure ... I would keep you in your birthday suit all
the time, ma chŠre.  You wouldn't see a pair of panties for
days on end.  You are too pretty to hide under some ugly old
boy clothes."

Both women chuckled at my bashful reaction.  Miss Thelma
even gave a laugh from the kitchen.  I thought for a moment
about what life would be like in the Taylor household.
Mmmmm ... not such a good idea!  I was beginning to think
living with Juanita was not as bad as I once believed.

While I worried about being a slave in Maison de Taylor, I
couldn't help but see that not only was Mrs. Taylor not in
her bathing suit, but she was dressed up as though she was
holding a fancy party.  Smelling of an expensive perfume,
she wore an airy sundress, heels and jewelry, a resplendent
hostess watching over her guests. I hadn't noticed before,
but even Juanita was dressed up, wearing a simple blouse and
a pair of dark slacks.  Her hair was pinned up in an elegant
sweep and she even had on lipstick and her new high heels.  

And then there was me.  An eleven year old chubby boy named
Brandon Miller, wearing little more than my birthday suit, a
silly girl's necklace and a stupid, worried grin on my face.
Oh, yeah, and an out-of-control erection!

"Brandy," called Mrs. Taylor, "Would you be a darling and
help me set the table? It's not much, just a light brunch.
I'll be back in a minute."

What I wanted to do was go jump in the pool and hide until
it was time to go home.  I stepped toward the diving board,
but Juanita stopped me, saying that Mrs. Taylor needed my
assistance.  

"Do I have to?" I whined weakly.  "I mean, I feel stupid!
Can't I have my clothes back?  You all aren't even in your
bathing suits!  I look dumb!  What if somebody says
something?"

"Funny, I don't hear anybody complaining," my stepmother
said with acid in her voice.  "Just like we didn't hear you
complain when you could see our bare butts."

"But, Juanita, I'm naked!" I cried.  I felt so helpless as
she stared down at me.  "You guys aren't supposed to see me
this way!"

I couldn't think of anything else to say.  

Juanita sighed a heavy sigh.  I was actually surprised she
hadn't lost her temper with me.  "Brandy, this silly little
game isn't hurting anyone, so please hush up and do as
you're told."

"But, Juanita!"

"So you're naked?  Who cares?  It's not like you're walking
down Main Street, which is what you're going to be doing if
you don't go help Mrs. Taylor!"

I started to say something smart, but an accidental glance
toward the stone pedestal in the center of the patio put a
chill through my heart.  I thought about the time I spent
kneeling before it only twenty-four hours earlier and I felt
my mouth go dry.  I sure didn't want another whipping, that
was for certain!

"I'll do it," I reluctantly said.  My stepmother nodded and
gave me an affectionate swat on the bottom as I took off.

I finally tracked Mrs. Taylor down in the kitchen.  She
wanted me to carry several trays of snacks onto the patio
and then help set the table while we waited for our guests.
Several trays meant several trips, which I performed
grudgingly.  I just had to take care and not spill anything,
which was harder than it should have been.  Hey, it's not
easy keeping a tray full of cups and ice from tipping over
when you're worried about your private parts showing!  

Meanwhile, Mrs. Taylor's guests started arriving.  I
continued on with my chores while she and Juanita met
everyone at the front door and escorted them through the
main hall to the patio.  Hiding in the kitchen, I tried not
to pay the other women any mind, but it was harder than it
sounds.  I was so scared of being seen in my bare skin again
that I was hyperventilating!

"Brandy, come on, darling!" Mrs. Taylor finally called.
"Please, dear, hurry along.   I've got some people for you
to meet!"

Damn it!

It took me a minute to calm my breathing.  Then I began the
long walk (it was only about ten feet!) to the French doors
leading to the outside.  Mrs. Taylor met me with a great big
warm smile.

"Before you go meet your public, you must look your best, ma
chŠre."  She held up what looked like a small, thin ring of
flowers.  "I picked these this morning and made a tiara for
you," she said.  "Let's see how it looks."

Feeling like a damned fool, I stood red-faced and frowning
as my movie star beautiful ladyfriend fiddled with my long
blond locks.  She took a moment to brush out my hair, then
she set the ring of blossoms atop my head and adjusted it.
She brushed my hair some more and then stood back and
smiled.

"My goodness," she whispered.  "Brandy, darling, you are
just gorgeous, do you know that?  It is such a shame you
were born a boy.  With that hair and your cute figure ...
you could have a line of boyfriends outside the door this
very minute, all waiting to take you on a date!  Can you
imagine such a thing?"

Of course I couldn't, but I didn't dare say that to Mrs.
Taylor.  Instead, I tried to change the subject.  "Um, do I
have to wear that?  I, uh, might mess it up when I go
swimming in a few minutes."

My hostess shook her head and fiddled with the blossoms for
a moment.  "There won't be any swimming for a while,
darling.  I've got too much for you to do."

"But ..." I looked at her eyes and stopped.  I sighed a sigh
of resignation.  Why bother arguing?  It would only cause me
pain and it wouldn't do any good anyway.

"There, perfect. Tres magnifique! You look so sweet!"  Mrs.
Taylor kissed me on the tip of my nose and spun me around.
"Now, let us go show you off to our guests.  This is going
to be a wonderful day!"

When I stepped out onto the patio my heart leaped into my
throat.  There must have been at least twice as many people
present as there were the day before!  All of them were
adult women, thank goodness, ranging from the young to the
quite elderly.  And judging from their appearance, I would
have felt out of place even if I had been wearing clothes!

Needless to say, not one of Mrs. Taylor's friends was
wearing a bathing suit!  Instead, they were all dressed up
in skirts and slacks and summer dresses, much like my
stepmother and our hostess.  Likewise, they all primped
their hair and wore makeup and perfume and heels.  It was
like I'd stumbled into some comic skit where I was the fool
who forgot to get dressed for the big party.  

I was shaking like a frightened kitten as Mrs. Taylor led me
by the hand into the throng of the smiling women.  Mrs.
Johnston and Bridget were among the first to greet me.

"Ah, bonjour, little Brandy!" Bridget smiled and pat me on
the head like I was a pet poodle or something.  "You're
looking very chic today in your pretty bathing suit.  And I
just love the flowers in your lovely hair.  TrŠs chic,
indeed!"

That, of course, was exactly what a naked eleven year old
boy wants to hear when he shows up for a party, right?  

Mrs. Johnston was equally pleased to see me, and she was
quick to introduce me to the ladies she was chatting with.

"This is Juanita's little one," she said with a smirk.
"Brandy has become a summer fixture here at the Taylor
estate and he is really quite sweet, despite being a boy.
Tell the nice people how old you are, sweetheart."

I glanced at Juanita and the ever smiling Mrs. Taylor.
"Eleven.  Almost twelve," I mumbled.

"That old?  It's hard to believe he's an eleven year old
boy," said one of the ladies.  She reached down and caressed
my cheek.  "He's so well behaved.  And he is so pretty, too!
Look at that long blond hair!  I just love those wavy curls.
Are they natural, darling?  I swear, I thought he was a
girl until I saw ... everything."

The patio echoed with laughter and a ripple of low
conversations quickly sparked new waves of chuckles, giggles
and snorts.  

"I thought the same exact thing," said one of the other
women.  She ran her fingers through my thick locks and
winked.  "Brandy, honey, you have the prettiest hair of any
boy I've ever seen.  Much prettier than most girls, if you
ask me."

"It's not fair for a boy to have such a head of hair. You
don't need flowers to show it off," the other lady added.
"What I'd give for my daughter to have such curls."

"His little boobs are bigger than my daughter's, too," the
first woman, triggering a ripple of laughter around us.
"It's just not fair!"

I wanted to run and hide, I was so embarrassed!

Didn't they understand?  I wasn't the one who wanted to show
off my hair or my naked body in the first place!  I wanted
to shout, I wanted to run away, I wanted to hide my face,
but instead I thought about my stepmother's warning.  My
face still stung from being slapped.  

Stupid hair!  I was beginning to think maybe I should have
let my dad cut it all off!

I took a deep breath and forced myself to look up and smile
the best smile I could muster.  I figured if I could at
least pretend to enjoy all this crazy attention, the better
off I'd be.  My smiles seemed to work as I immediately saw a
satisfied grin on my stepmother's face and a beaming glow
emanating from Mrs. Taylor.  If I was lucky I'd get through
the day without another whipping.  But the price on my
dignity was going to be pretty high.

After showing me off to Mrs. Johnston and her friends, Mrs.
Taylor led me around and introduced me to her other guests.
I looked back at Juanita, but she waved me on, a stern look
warning me to mind my mistress.  

It turned out to be not so bad.  Mrs. Taylor acted quite
proud of me and she treated me as though I was her own
child.  In addition to bragging on how cute I looked and
what good manners I had, she was also rather protective,
pulling me close and holding onto my hand and constantly
patting my bare butt or stroking my hair.  If I hadn't been
completely nude during the process I might have actually
enjoyed myself.  

"Such a nice boy.  How about if you just stay with me the
rest of the summer?" Mrs. Taylor said between guests.  "I'm
serious, sweetheart.  I've got a lovely room upstairs that
would be perfect for a pretty cherub.  You can swim as much
as you want and if you're really good I can be very
generous.  I'll even get you a special playmate and we could
have all sorts of fun.  I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind."

The idea of being left alone with Mrs. Taylor both intrigued
and terrified me.  I would be forever trapped in my bare
skin, no doubt, and put on display for everyone who visited
her home.  I was more than a little curious about the
"special playmate," however.  That wasn't the first time I'd
heard that mentioned.  Who could she mean?  Was that the
same as Bridget's "pretty one"?

"I, um ... I ... I don't know ..." I stammered.  I blushed
as my stepmother stepped in and began fiddling with the
stupid flowers in my stupid hair.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Juanita said with a
laugh.  "You'd spoil the poor child rotten.  Besides, who
would keep me company at night?"  My stepmother looked at me
and winked.  "But don't worry.  You can borrow him every now
and then.  Brandy enjoys spending time with you.  I'm sure
we can work something out."

It felt kind of strange to be talked about in such a manner.
At least nobody was yelling at me or threatening me.  The
way I figured, if this little game made Juanita and Mrs.
Taylor happy, maybe I'd best go along with it.  I mean, so
what, I wasn't wearing my bathing suit and I had some
flowers in my hair.  What could that hurt, right?  Who would
ever know but a bunch of old women??!!!

Figuring I'd hate myself in the morning, I took another deep
breath, smiled and started pretending like I was having the
time of my life.  I grinned when I was spoken to and I
tiptoed and I pranced among the party guests in my birthday
suit and in general made a complete fool of myself.  Looking
back, it's hard to believe I was even related to the same
bashful child who was once afraid to take off his shirt in
public.

As the morning went on, well, I guess I must have gotten
drunk on adrenaline or something.  I don't know what got
into me.  I was giggling and laughing as the ladies fussed
over how pretty my hair made me look or how even in the nude
I looked like a little girl with my "cute figure."  Or so
they kept saying.  I still thought I was fat and I remained
self-conscious throughout that entire day.  

For some reason, however, the idea of being mistaken for a
girl excited me, probably because I never thought of myself
that way before.  I'd always wanted to be a soldier or an
astronaut, and like most boys I would never have even
considered acting or saying anything the least bit girlish.
But now I was getting caught up in Mrs. Taylor's little
game, I was saying such sissy things like "Oh, how pretty,
Mrs. McCarty" and "That is so sweet, Mrs. Jones" and "Do you
like my curls?" I actually did all this while standing
around and posing prettily for my female audience.  I was so
lost in the role of entertaining my stepmother and her
friends, it was like I was acting in a play or on a secret
mission behind enemy lines.  And the sillier I acted, the
more approval I received.

"Brandy honey, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I
rather like it," remarked Juanita.  "You're making everyone
very happy.  Mrs. Taylor loves it, and that is very good.
Just remember to keep it up."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

She shook her head.  "I wish your daddy could see you.  He
would throw a fit, wouldn't he?"

I felt my face get hot, but I didn't say anything.  Thinking
about my dad was the one thing I didn't want to do.  Not
while I was acting like such a sissy!

Juanita must have read my mind.  "Oh, don't worry your
pretty little head.  I won't say anything if you won't.
This will all be our little secret."

I nodded my head.  "Thanks," I said with a hoarse voice.

As I mingled among our guests I thought about my dad and my
buddies back home.  I shivered as I imagined what they'd
have said if they saw me right then and there.  

"I probably look like the biggest sissy in the world," I
thought as yet another guest complimented me on my girlie
hair decorations and that stupid butterfly necklace.  

A week before all this I would have pouted or rolled my eyes
rather than put up with such nonsense.  Of course, my
buddies back home would have done the same.  And now ...
well, they didn't have to worry about getting their face
slapped or their bare butt beat with a bamboo cane.  I tried
to imagine one of them going through what I was having to
put up with and the image was pretty funny.  

I bet that smart ass Frank Jackson would puke if he had to
wear flowers in his hair and run around butt naked, I
thought to myself.

My thoughts then drifted to my Dad.  He was another story
altogether.  He'd never understand. If he ever found out
about this, if he ever saw me running around bare naked with
my hair looking like a girl's ...  

I looked up at Juanita, who blew me a kiss and nodded for me
to keep Mrs. Taylor entertained.  If I was lucky and
everybody kept their promise, my buddies would never know
and   most important   my dad would never know.  And then I
would never   not ever!!!   have to explain myself.  That
became my goal.  Along with not getting in trouble and
getting my butt beat!

No good deed goes unpunished, of course.  We were finally
settling down to a light snack when the doorbell rang.  Mrs.
Taylor told me to answer it and bring whoever it was back to
the patio to join the luncheon.  Giddy with excitement, I
thought this would be a great opportunity to impress my
elders and ensure I wouldn't get a whipping for the rest of
the day.  And so I ran to the door and opened it without a
thought.

Holy crap!  It was a bunch of girls!

I was doomed!!!


          Chapter Four:  I Entertain Some Girls
                           

Okay, it wasn't a bunch.  There were three girls in total,
all about my age or a bit older, each one pretty if not
gorgeous.  And there I was, a stupid boy, standing before
them completely and utterly naked. Needless to say, I was
mortified, terrified, even, to be put in such a ridiculous
situation.  I really wanted to yell at my stepmother and
Mrs. Taylor, but the adults were so far away they might as
well have been on the moon.  So I did the logical thing any
boy in my predicament would have done.  

I slammed the door in their faces!

Almost immediately the doorbell started ringing again.  For
a moment I didn't move a muscle.  I was too busy trying to
come up with a desperate plan, as I was a desperate man.

"Brandy!" my stepmother called from the back of the house.
"Answer the door, sweetheart!  Do not keep your guests
waiting!"

"Oh, man," I whined in a panic.  "Me and my stupid
stepmother ..."

This was obviously a "damned if you do, damned if you don't"
situation.  I started to run and hide in the tiny hall
bathroom.  Maybe by the time they found me I'd come up with
some sort of terminal illness or something.  But when I got
to the bathroom I got a better idea.  

Grabbing a towel off the rack, I wrapped my naked body in
it, covering myself from my underarms down past my bare
butt.  At least that would keep me safe long enough to find
out who these people were.  Maybe this was not a problem.
Maybe they were just some neighbor kids asking for
directions, or maybe collecting for charity or something.
Maybe I was all worked up over nothing!

"BRANDON!!!!  Don't make me come in there!  Answer that
door!  NOW!!!"

I hurried back to the front foyer.  Grasping the doorknob, I
took a deep breath and opened the door.

Holy crap ...

The first girl of the group   her name was Marie Cheney, I
soon found out   was the prettiest.  Or at least I thought
so.  About my age, she was slender and fair and sported the
blackest, silkiest hair I'd ever seen.  Dressed in a
revealing two-piece pink bikini set and wearing a pair of
white high heeled sandals and carrying a tiny white purse,
she carried herself with more confidence than any other girl
I'd ever seen.  She looked exactly like a pre-teen movie
star, down to her developing boobs, and if I hadn't been so
scared I'd have been smitten.

The other two girls were just as attractive but more
intimidating, perhaps because they appeared older.  Nora had
a head full of copper red hair pulled back in a thick
ponytail by a broad ribbon tied off in a bow.  Her pale
complexion was striking in contrast against her red bikini
and matching sandals.  

The third girl, Lisa, was tall with long blond hair and a
golden tan body that filled out a white bikini beyond what
any girl her age should.  The older girls moved like
ballerinas, they were so graceful.

"How rude!" Marie fussed as I stood there and gawked.  "You
almost broke my nose when you slammed that door!"

Suddenly there was silence.  Nobody said anything for the
longest time.  I didn't notice the quiet at first, as I was
fascinated by Marie's striking appearance.  Her straight
black hair was bobbed to just below her ears, perfectly
framing her doll-like face.  I was especially taken by her
severely cut bangs, which lingered over her green eyes, just
brushing the long dark lashes.  

I don't know how long I stared at those eyes before I
realized they were watching me.  All three sets of eyes, in
fact, had turned toward me.  I'd apparently been daydreaming
and now I was caught.  I felt my face go bright red and I
had this sudden need to go pee.  Instead, I just stood there
in all my half-naked eleven year sissy boy glory.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, my voice hoarse with fear.  I
didn't bother saying anything else.  I figured that was
enough to either get me out of trouble or into it even
deeper.  "I forgot I wasn't wearing ... I had to go ... get
a towel ..."

"I see," the beautiful Marie replied.  She looked at me,
then scanned toward the patio and the pool and back at me
again.  "Are you here by yourself?"

I nodded.  Then I shook my head.  "The adults are out back,"
I whispered.

"You haven't seen any ugly old boys here, have you?" she
asked.  The other two girls giggled and whispered to one
another.  "My aunt said a boy was coming to visit us today."

I thought about what she just said.  She asked if I'd seen a
boy.  Did she think I was a girl?  My head spun.  Of course
she did, I thought.  I'd been hearing all day how "pretty"
and "cute" I was.  I glanced down at the skimpy towel
covering my body and touched one of the blossoms in my hair.
Of course she thought I looked like a girl!  Everybody else
did!  Why would she think any different?  

"Hello?"  The dark-haired girl looked at me like I was
stupid.

I had to think about her last question.  Oh, yeah ...

"Um, you said something about your aunt?''

Marie sniffed.  "My Aunt Elizabeth.  Mrs. Elizabeth Taylor?
You are standing in her house, you know.  Since you're
wearing a towel I assume you've been swimming in her pool.
Do you know whom I talking about?"

I nodded.  "Yeah, I know her."

The girl in pink sighed.  "I asked if there were any boys
here?"

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.  "Nope, no boys.
Nobody here but me.  Well, and the adults out back."

Marie smiled.  "I can see that.  You're very pretty.  How
old are you?"

Holy crap!  She said I was ... PRETTY!!?? She DID think I
was a girl!  Holy crap again!

I tried to speak, cleared my throat and tried again.  "I'm
... I'm eleven," I replied.  No sense in lying when I didn't
have to, right?

"Neat!  I'm eleven, too," Marie said.  She flipped her black
hair around and nodded toward her friends.  "Nora's twelve
and Lisa is thirteen."

I nodded and smiled again.

"I like your flower tiara. I bet my aunt made that for you."

I nodded.  I'd decided to keep my mouth shut and let them
think I was dumb.  That was better than saying something and
proving them right.

Marie looked toward her friends.  "Aunt Elizabeth makes
those for us all the time," she explained.  "Yours is made
up with the special baby rosebuds my aunt invented in her
garden.  They're very expensive if you try to buy them."

I nodded again.

Marie gave me a quizzical look and said something I couldn't
hear.  The girls whispered among themselves for a moment,
each tossing me a pleasant smile between giggles.  

"So-o-o-o-o-o, what is your name?" Nora asked.  "I don't
think I've seen you around here lately."

I'd prepared for this one.  Thanks to Mrs. Taylor, this was
easy.  "I'm, um, Brandy.  Brandy Miller.  I'm just here
visiting with my step- ... um ... my mom.  We're just
visiting.  Mrs. Taylor, I mean.  Yep, that's what we're
doing, all right.  We're just visiting Mrs. Taylor."

Marie and the other two girls laughed.  "You're pretty shy,
aren't you, Brandy?" she said.  "You're so cute.  You're
just like a little doll."

I shrugged and nodded again.  I was getting pretty good at
that.

"You've been swimming?" asked Nora.  "How about showing us
your bathing suit!  I bet it's cute!!!"

"I can't," I said with a weak voice.  " l, um, I gotta go."

I started to excuse myself and leave.  Maybe if I was lucky
I could get up the stairs and hide for the remainder of the
afternoon.  Just like that, no problem.  If I could do that,
I thought, I might live to see another day.

"Where are you going?" Marie asked.

I smiled as I backed toward the foyer staircase.  "Um,
upstairs for a minute.  I really gotta go to the little ...
the little girl's ... room ..."

I was just about to make my move when, of course, Juanita
barged into the scene.

Still dressed in her fashionable top and slacks, my
stepmother emerged from the shadows with a cigarette in hand
and an odd smile on her face.  She nodded at the girls as
she casually sauntered across the foyer and stopped directly
in front of me.

Holy crap!  How long had she been listening?  I wondered.  

I gave my stepmother as innocent a smile as I could muster.
With a shake of her head she sighed and held out her hand.

"The towel.  Now."

What the ...?  I looked up at my stepmother and then at the
girls.  They all three blinked at the same time.  I looked
back at Juanita with desperation in my face.  I couldn't
believe she was actually doing this!

"But ... I ..."

"The towel.  Now!" she repeated.

This time girls looked first at Juanita, then back at me.
They seemed as confused as I did.  I shrugged my shoulders,
and then I gave my stepmother a pleading look.  "But ...
what about ...?"

Juanita put one hand on her hip and tapped her foot
impatiently.  "Now, Brandy!"

"But, Juanita ..." I whined.

"You've been an angel all day long," she said quietly.
"Don't ruin it for everybody.  Remember yesterday?"

I thought about the stone pedestal in the center of the
patio.  Oh, I remembered, all right!  Part of me had trouble
believing it actually happened.  The other part was
desperate to prevent it from ever happening again.  Surely
she wouldn't ...

"Don't make me mad."

Oh, yeah.  She was serious.  I took a deep breath.  "Yes,
ma'am ..." I sighed.

I felt tears of humiliation as I untangled myself from the
white terry cloth.  As my stepmother took the towel away I
acted fast, crouching over a bit and squeezing my thighs
together in order to hide my stupid penis and balls from the
girls.  It was a good thing I did that. I was now completely
stark raving naked in front of three sets of wide eyes.  I
blushed as they scanned my body.  The good news was, I
didn't hear any screams.

I looked down.  Well, no wonder!  You couldn't tell if I was
a boy or a girl from the way I was standing.  All you could
see was smooth pale skin at the juncture between my chubby
thighs.  I looked at the girls, who had now turned their
attention toward my plump nipples, apparently checking out
my bust size.  Feeling extra shy, I crossed my arms across
my chest.

"Thank you, sweetie.  You can come work on your tan, now, if
you want."  Juanita turned smartly and nodded at the girls.
"Don't mind me, ladies.  I'm just here to keep somebody
honest."

I watched tearfully as my stepmother disappeared into the
house.  I hated her at that moment!  How could she do
something like this to me? I thought to myself.

"My god, were you actually sunbathing nude?" Nora asked.
"That is so cool!"

Glad to be handed an excuse, I nodded.  For a few minutes I
was as popular as the latest fashion diva.  All three girls
were enthused with the subject of sunbathing in the nude and
I was their new champion.  They all loved the idea of
lounging around naked and in their eagerness to hear what I
had to say about the subject, they closed in on me.  Before
I could stop them they were surrounding me and chatting away
like a tree full of songbirds.  I almost died when Marie and
Lisa huddled so close that their sweet breath mixed with my
own.  With Nora standing right behind me, I was trapped with
no way out!

"I wish my mother would let me sunbathe nude," complained
Nora.  "Marie and Lisa do it all the time and now I find out
another eleven year old does it, too?  You guys are so
lucky!"

"I don't do it much," Marie said, her hand resting on my
arm.  "Not in the hot sun, anyway.  I don't like getting
burned.  I do like sitting nude in the shade, though.  My
Aunt Elizabeth does it all the time and she lets me whenever
I come over to visit."

Nora pouted.  "You're so lucky," she fussed.  "I can't
believe you answered the front door like that.  I would have
died of embarrassment!"

Marie giggled. "That's nothing," she whispered. "Sometimes
Aunt Elizabeth lets us stay that way all day.  We'll swim
and eat and even wander through the garden maze in the nude.
Now that's fun!  Being naked feels so nice, don't you think,
Brandy?""

I nodded and cleared my throat.  "My step ... my mom got me
doing it.  It's not bad if there's not a lot of people
around, I guess.  I prefer a bathing suit most of the time,
though."

"You won't mind us being here, will you?" the golden blond
Lisa asked.  She looked so mature in her bikini it was
driving me crazy.  "It's okay with just us girls around, you
know.  We won't say anything to anybody.  Besides, I just
love your hair.  You are so cute!!"

I guess the way I shook my head was cute, too, 'cause all
three girls smiled and sighed.

"Oh, she is so-o-o-o shy!  Isn't that so sweet?" Marie
grabbed my shoulders and gave me a little hug.  I could feel
my aching penis swell up inside the hiding place between my
legs.  I was so overwhelmed with confusion I thought I was
going to faint.

As the girls chatted on I crossed my arms even more tightly
across my bare chest and I squeezed my legs together so hard
it hurt.  A desperate grin was frozen on my face.  I still
couldn't believe they didn't realize I was a boy!  What
would happen if I had to walk very far?  What would they say
if they saw my penis pop up out of nowhere?  Would they
laugh?  Would they scream?  Would they run away and tell the
adults?  Heck, I was so scared, I was about ready to just
jump up and run away myself.  Let them see whatever they can
see, right?

I never knew girls could talk so much about nothing.
Terrified that I might expose myself, I kind of tiptoed
along   knees locked desperately together, of course!   as
they made their way through the house toward the patio.
This was just like one of those dreams you have where you're
stark naked and standing in front of your classmates about
to give a book report or something.  In this case everything
 including a reason to panic!   was real.  It was
definitely not a dream.  My thighs were getting tired and I
really needed to sit down if I wanted to keep hiding my
boyish privates.

"Oh, look.  Your aunt's got all her friends out back," said
Lisa.  "I guess we can't go skinnydipping until they leave."

Marie shook her head.  I just loved the way her hair moved
when she did that.

"I don't know why not," she said quietly.  "Brandy was
sunbathing, remember?  Besides, if they won't let us, we'll
just go and get lost in the maze.  I know a place where we
can hide and play."

Nora looked at me with wide eyes.  "Do you go skinnydipping,
too?  Don't tell me if you do!  My mom doesn't let me do
anything that's fun!"

I just shrugged my shoulders.  It seemed to be the only
thing that was working for me.

Finally, after changing subjects every five seconds, Marie
and her bikini-clad girlfriends decided to join in the
festivities out back.  I declined their offer to go with
them at that moment, saying that I just wanted to sit in the
kitchen and rest for a bit.  

Nora held out her hand.  "Don't be bashful, Brandy.  You can
come chat with us.  You can even sit next to me.  Please?"

I squirmed a bit and shifted my position.  "No, I better not
..."

"Oh, Brandy, please?" begged Marie.  She grabbed one of my
hands and started pulling me toward the patio doors.  "My
aunt said this was a really nice party.  It ought to be
fun."

This went on and on for an irritating amount of time.  I
somehow managed to keep my cool, though, just shaking my
head and repeating over and over again, "No, thanks.  I'm
fine.  Thanks anyway."

After about the hundredth time of begging the three girls
suddenly stopped.  I watched nervously as they looked at
each other and giggled like they had some silly secret.
Some whispering ensued and eventually I was faced with a
trio of grins and smiles.  

"Okay, Miss Priss," Marie said haughtily, "if you're going
to be that way ... one, two ... three ..."

And that's when all three girls suddenly shouted in unison:
"What's the matter, BRA-A-A-N-N-N-DO-O-O-N-N-N?  Too good
for us stupid GIRLS?!"

My mouth went as dry as an old sock.  It was just as well,
'cause I couldn't have used it to say anything, I was so
surprised.  I mean, I was shocked!  Not to mention
absolutely scared to death!

I was doomed!

For some reason my eleven year old brain couldn't believe I
got caught!  I should have known from the very beginning, I
should have seen it.  But I didn't and it took a while for
the reality of it all to set in.  Boy, they really got me,
and I was so upset I started crying.

"Oh, great," Nora said in a sing-song voice.  "Not only is
he a sissy boy, he's a crybaby, too."  

"That's okay.  I just love crybabies!" Lisa exclaimed.
"Especially sissy boy crybabies.  That's because it's so
easy to make them cry, baby!"

The delight in her eyes made me nauseous.

It turned out, of course, that the girls about me long
before they even saw me.  It turned out that Mrs. Taylor had
told Marie all about the cute little boy who loved
skinnydipping in her pool and how I would be coming to the
party that day. In fact, Marie and the girls had been at
Nora's house next door the entire morning waiting for me,
and I was genuinely shocked to hear that they'd been
watching from Nora's bedroom window when my stepmother and I
arrived.  Hearing them laugh about how Mrs. Taylor   well,
to them, "Aunt Elizabeth"   talked me out of my clothes was
so humiliating!  I felt like such an idiot.  All that work,
all that worry ... and it was all for nothing.

It wasn't exactly my proudest day.

"Yeah!" Nora said, giggling like a fool.  "We've been
watching you prancing around and kissing up to all the old
ladies.  How can you show off your bare butt like that?  Why
don't you just put on a dress and an apron be their prissy
little maid, for goodness' sake?!"

I didn't know what to say, I was so embarrassed.  "It's not
fair!  I ... it wasn't my ... it was my stepmom's idea," I
stammered.  "She made me do it!"

"It looked like you were having a lot of fun to us," Marie
said with a smirk.

"I ... I wasn't ..."  My eyes started to burn from the tears
that were building up.

"You ought to see the look on your face," Lisa taunted.
"You look like you've been caught with your pants down!  Oh,
wait ... you have!!!"

"You guys are mean," I said with a pout.

"Well, you're stupid!  Did you really think you looked like
a girl?" Nora asked.  "It's just a stupid towel, not a magic
cape or something.  You were naked, for goodness sake!  You
didn't really think we were that dumb, did you?"

"You must be really retarded!" quipped Lisa.

"I wasn't trying to be a girl," I explained.  "I just ... I
was just covering up."

"Oh, no!" Lisa shot back.  "We asked if you'd seen any boys
and you said there weren't any!  Admit it!  You said there
weren't any boys!  You actually wanted us to believe you
were a girl!  Didn't you?"  

"No-o-o-o ..." I whined.  I really needed to sit down.

Nora giggled.  "He still does," she said brightly.  "Look at
all that girlie-girl hair and the flowers and that prissy
little necklace ... what do you expect from a sissy boy?  If
it wasn't for that little thing between his legs, he might
have gotten away with it."

Lisa raised an eyebrow and licked her lips.  "Speaking of
the thing between his legs, we still haven't seen it, you
know. We ought to make sure ... that he's a boy, I mean.
After all, he does have bigger boobs than Marie."

Marie made a face.  "Hey, that's not nice!"

"Well, it's true," Lisa shot back with a grin.

"I'm in!" Nora said with a laugh.

"Me, too!" Marie exclaimed.  "I want to see if Brandy's
boobies are real!"

I felt my face burning bright red as the girls suddenly
surrounded me and began tickling and pulling at me.  Curious
fingers tweaked my nipples and poked me in the ribs and
pinched my bare butt.  I felt a wave of panic as a pair of
hands tried to pry my knees apart.  Still naked, I clutched
my arms around my chest to protect my nipples and I tried in
vain to hold my thighs together.  It didn't do any good.  My
poor penis was so excited it popped out from its hiding
place and stood straight up for everyone to see.  When that
happened Lisa was able to get my arms behind my back,
leaving me open and vulnerable to attack.

"Eek!  It jumped at me!" fussed Nora.  "Nasty little thing!"

She smacked at my erection like you would an annoying bug.
One of her hits connected right on the tip, causing me a lot
of pain.

"OWW!!  Stop!  You hurt me!"  I yelled as she hit me again.
"NO-O-O!!!  Please, stop hitting me there!"

"Ugly little worm," Nora fussed.

"See, he is a boy!" shouted Marie.  "I knew it!  Keep
tickling him!"

"Well, he's sort of a boy," said Lisa.  "It's a wiener, all
right.  A really tiny one.  But it is a real live wiener.
So I guess he is a boy ... sort of ..."

While I suffered all the tickling and pinching, the three
girls locked in on my pink erection.  I felt just horrible
as they joked and laughed like it was the funniest thing
they'd ever seen.  This was a nightmare come to life, as far
as I was concerned.  I just wanted to lay down and die.

"I don't know why you bother keeping that thing," Lisa
taunted.  "It's so small, it's not good for anything.  You
ought to get rid of it.  Then you could be a girl for real!"

Nora snorted as she laughed.  "Let me hit it again.  It's
not that hard."

"You shut up!  You hurt me!" I said with a hoarse voice.  I
was so upset I could hardly breathe.  "Leave me alone!  I
don't want to be a girl!"

Marie giggled.  "You might as well be a girl, Bran-DEE!  If
you compare the way you look and act with how small your
thing is, the girlie-girl side wins!"

"Don't forget his boobies!" Nora added.

"Leave me alone!" I sobbed.

Of course, the three bikini girls eventually insisted on
dragging me out to the party.  I tried to resist, but I was
too weak with despair.  By the time we got to the patio I
was consumed in tears.  Nora and Lisa each had hold of an
arm and Marie was leading the way like a hunter coming home
from a successful safari.  Juanita and Bridget looked
delighted with the turn of events, especially when they saw
me so submissive with the three girls.  My stepmother gave
me an evil grin, as though she thought this was the greatest
thing ever.  

"Looks like Brandy has made some new friends," she said
proudly.  "Hello, girls!"

"Hello, Mrs. Miller," replied the girls in practiced unison.


"Hello, Mama," added Marie.  "Bonjour!"

I looked at Marie.  Who was she talking to?

"Bonjour, mon ch‚ri," replied Bridget.  "Bonjour, girls."

"Bonjour, Mrs. Cheney," answered Nora and Lisa.  

I looked around for a second.  Then I blinked.

Mrs. Cheney?  What the hell?!!

I felt so ashamed for the adults to see me being pushed
around by those stupid girls.  I was also confused by what I
just heard.

"Bridget ... you know Marie?" I said in a whisper.

"I see that you have finally gotten to meet my precious
Marie," the blond French woman said directly to me.  "Do you
not think we are alike?"

"You're ... you ...?" I was really confused.  "You're
Marie's .. Marie's mother?"

Bridget nodded.  "But, of course!  Yes, I am Marie's mother.
What?  You are surprised to know this, ma chŠre?"

Well, of course I was surprised!  I was ... I was ...
stunned is a more accurate word.  Shocked, even, perhaps.  I
mean, it never occurred to me that the young and beautiful
and cruel woman of my dreams could have a child my own age.
She was ... well, too young!

I wiped the tears from my eyes.  "I thought you were ...
like in college or something."

"Well, thank you, Brandy, but no, I am not as young as you
think. Marie was born eleven years ago this month and I am
indeed her mother. Can you not see the resemblance?"

I shook my head in disbelief.  And yes, I could see the
resemblance now, especially considering how cruel Marie had
been to me that morning and the role Bridget played in my
earlier predicaments.  Now it all makes sense.  

I looked at Marie.  "So, if Mrs. Taylor is your aunt ..."

Bridget interrupted.  "Ma chŠre, Elizabeth is my sister.
Did you not know that, either?  Silly boy!"

Boy, was I ever mad!

"You all have been ganging up on me!" I yelled.  "Ever since
the other day, when you took away my pants!  You all have
been playing mean tricks on me.  And now you're making me do
all this stuff again, only in front of girls!  I don't like
it!  It's not fair!"

I begged to be taken home, to be allowed to go upstairs,
anything to get away from all this unwanted attention.  All
I got for my trouble was a slap across the face from Juanita
and a stern warning to mind my elders. That apparently
included Marie and her girlfriends.

"I don't care what your problem is, little mister!"  My
stepmother poked me in the shoulder with a sharp fingernail
and then slapped me again.  "But you better straighten up
right now!"

Behind her Marie had an odd smile on her face, much like the
smile on her mother's at that very instant! I thought right
then and there that I was way in over my head.  I had a
feeling that I wasn't going to get out of this one at all.

"We are guests and you will be respectful to Miss Bridget
and her daughter.  And you'll do the same with her friends.
Do you understand me?  Do you want another whipping?"

"No, ma'am," I sobbed.

Juanita smiled.  "That's what I thought.  Now, go have fun
... and play nice!"

"But ..."

My stepmother put her finger to her lips.  "You are on
dangerous ground.  Either go have fun with the girls, or go
over and get ready for a whipping.  Which is it?"

I looked at the three grinning girls, then down at my pudgy
naked body.  I felt a desperate need to go pee.

"I'll ... go have fun ... with the girls."

Juanita raised one eyebrow and nodded.  "That's what I
thought.  Now go!"

After seeing my stepmother slap me in front of everyone, the
girls didn't hesitate to treat me as their personal slave.
I ended up serving lunch to the three little sadists, doing
for them pretty much what I'd been doing for the adults.
While the adults stayed near the buffet table, the girls
settled down near the pool, reclining on the lounge chairs
like a trio of movie starlets.  Reinforced by a dark stare
from my stepmother, I fetched drinks and snacks and pillows
and I nodded and smiled and answered stupid questions upon
demand.  

Lisa grinned at me.  "You probably thought we were actually
going to sunbathe nude, didn't you, crybaby?  Wrong!  We
don't do that in front of stupid boys!"

"Well, if you put it that way, that means we can do it,"
Nora teased.  "Brandy ain't no boy.  You gotta have the
right parts to be a boy.  Look between his legs ... SHE
looks more like a girl to me!"

All three girls giggled like crazy.  I just wanted to lay
down and die.

Marie took after both her aunt and her mother.  She loved
bossing me and teasing me to tears more than anyone else.
She even insisted I stay by her side like an obedient poodle
dog.  There weren't any chairs left, so I ended up kneeling
on the tiled pavement like an idiot between running errands
for the three divas.  At least that way I could hide my poor
penis between my thighs.

"Poor Brandy," Marie cooed in a soft voice.  "I bet you feel
really bad about now, don't you?"

Too ashamed to say anything, I nodded my head and fought the
urge to run away.

"It's all right, sweetheart.  We won't let anything bad
happen to you.  We want to play with you."

I blushed as the eleven year old giggled like, well, a
little girl.

"This is fun," Nora said with her mouth full of chicken
salad.  "I really like having a boy waiting on me. This is
the best!"

Lisa laughed.  "My mom always says men aren't good for much
more than fetching things.  I guess the same goes for little
crybaby sissy boys, too."

"I'm not a crybaby," I finally said.  I could feel the tears
burning in my eyes.  "You're just mean.  All three of you!"

"That's okay, I like being mean ... especially to you, you
little fag!" Lisa shot back. "So what if I'm mean to you?
You're just a girlie boy, so what do I care if I hurt your
feelings?"

"Maybe I ought to tell Brandy's mama he's arguing with us,"
suggested Marie.  I shot her a look of panic.  "I bet that
would get his face slapped again. If we're really lucky,
they might spank his butt.  What do you think?"

"I got to see that!" Nora exclaimed.  "I wanna help, as a
matter of fact."

"Please, Marie ..." I sobbed softly.  "Don't tell her stuff
like that.  I ... I'll do what you say.  I just don't want
to get hit anymore."

The black haired eleven year old raised an eyebrow.  "You'll
do what I say?  Everything I say?  Then stop arguing with
me.  And tell Lisa you're sorry."

I looked at Lisa, who was grinning like a hungry housecat.
"Do I have to?"

Marie tilted her head in a manner that I would have at some
other time found adorable.  "Nora, too.  Do it, or else I'm
telling your mother you're being mean.  If I tell her you're
really mean, perhaps she'll let me slap you instead."

"She's my stepmother, not my mother," I said with another
sob.  

Marie shook her head.  "There you go arguing with me again.  

I just bowed my head.  "I'm sorry ..."

And so it went.

When the girls finally finished their snack I was put to
work cleaning up the mess they made.  I watched nervously as
Marie went to Mrs. Taylor and Bridget and my stepmother and
talked with them for a while.  They all seemed to get along
famously, which worried me.  Despite her petite size and
delicate beauty, Marie apparently inherited her mother's odd
sense of humor, not to mention her strange curiosity about
boys.  There was also something of Mrs. Taylor's cruelty in
her as well.  I shivered as I tried to imagine what they
were talking about.  I just hoped it wouldn't get me another
slap across the face.  Or worse yet, a whipping!

I was sitting quietly on the edge of a lounge chair when
Marie finally returned.  I'd been thinking about my
predicament and for some stupid reason my penis started
tingling and I got a really bad erection.  I was doing
everything I could to hide my embarrassment between my legs
when my new mistress held out her hand.

"Come along, pretty boy," she said.  I sat submissively as
she took my hand.  "Let's go play."

"Can you wait just a minute?" I begged.  "I think I have to
go to the bathroom."

"No time for that!"  Marie giggled and smacked my bare
bottom.  "It's time to go play in the garden!"  

I tried to resist as I was pulled off the lounge chair, but
all that did was get my butt dropped onto the hard patio
tile.  More girlish laughter erupted and I found myself
being lifted to my feet.  Surrounded on all sides by my
young captors, I shivered in shame, desperately fighting off
the urge to cry.

Nora was the first to comment on my erect penis.  She
pointed and squealed and made a big show of it.  "Oh, my
gosh, look!  It's sticking out!  Watch out, it might spit on
you!"

"It better not," warned a suddenly serious Marie.

Lisa giggled like a pre-schooler.  "Isn't it cute?  I just
love looking at these things.  They're like little animals
or something."

By this time I was crying.  Sorry, but I just couldn't help
it.  "I wanna go inside," I sobbed helplessly.  "Please,
leave me alone."

"No way, girlie boy," said Lisa.  She grabbed my other hand
and grinned.  "Come on, let's go play for a while.  We can
hide in the maze where the grown ups won't see!"

Nora gave me an evil grin. "Oh, boy, you are going to hate
this," she said with a scary giggle.

"No, please!  Don't make me!" I begged as the three girls
drug me away from the house.  "I really need to stay here.
My stepmother won't know where I am ..."

I thought I heard an adult voice as we headed toward the
garden.  Looking over my shoulder I could see Bridget and
Juanita watching from the patio door, each with a cigarette
in one hand and a drink in the other.  Mrs. Taylor,
curiously, stepped up and leaned against my stepmother.  I
remember thinking they were awful close.  It looked as
though, well ... to tell the truth, I couldn't tell if the
older woman was whispering in my stepmother's ear ... or
kissing it ...

It would be hours before I saw them again.

                  (To be continued ...)