54 -MY SON, THE BRIDESMAID

they rested contentedly in the A-cups of his padded bra! Sometimes, without a bra, they even jiggled when he walked. Even his shape had changed. His hips gently curved out in a feminine shape.

Robin attributed all this to wearing a bra and the gentle but un-relenting influence of the corselet. But why did his nipples appear to have doubled in size to bloated points, sitting on jellylike swellings of fatty flesh. Their color had changed from brown to a rosy, coral pink not unlike his favorite lipstick.

Two weeks later Trish came to town for the weekend to see her family and discuss the details. She was again dropped off by Stacy who couldn't wait to see 'little' Robin again.

"Ohhh," Stacy cooed to Robin as they walked in the door. "Look at you! All powered and painted up pretty." She examined the sissified boy in the stylish, raspberry mini-skirt dress with his hair teased into soft curls, as he ran and gave his sister a girlish hug. Their soft bodies clutched each other for a moment and their matching lipsticked mouths molded into a brief kiss.

"Let me see you," Trish gushed. "How chic!" referring to his hair and fashionable dress. She put her arm around him and they went into the living room where Mrs. Wilkes was waiting.

After a homecoming conversation and the wedding congratulations, the discussion turned back to Robin. Stacy said, "He's delectable in dresses. You should never let him change back."

"That's up to him," Mrs. Wilkes answered.

That night they all planned to go out to dinner. Trish squealed to Robin, "We must get dressed together tonight just like last time."

About five, Trish brought her stuff to Robin's room. It had been painted 'farmhouse pink' with white trim. She was a bit put back at first... his room looked just like a girl's room. Makeup, perfume, lingerie, and various items spewed all over. "Oh, my," she said as she saw that Robin's closet was filled with skirts, dresses and blouses.

TV FICTION CLASSICS -55

His few remaining boy clothes were shoved way in the back.

"You can borrow anything you want," Robin announced feebly. Having his sister back in the house made him realize how much he'd changed. He was always the 'little man' around the house. Trish just sort of walked around in a daze seeing what her little 'dress up' fun had progressed to. Maybe her mother had let this go too far?

Hearing Robin talk about his work made Trish relax. Things were going well for him and her mother's shop. They gabbed about this dress or that until it was time to get ready.

She began to sense that Robin was nervous about getting dressed with her. She broke the ice by saying, "So let me see what hook your corselet is on. Robin slowly undressed and was soon standing in front of her wearing only lingerie.

"Wow!" She said, "Your figure . . . it's ... it's different!" She jumped up and began exploring his figure finding that the corselet was hooked on the smallest waist snap and the widest hip setting. His hips curved into full buttocks, rounded thighs and legs that smoothed into graceful softness. His body had lost it's definite character and was rounded and cushioned. "You've changed a lot," she deduced.

"I know," Robin said shyly. "Maybe too much." He reached around and undid his brassiere adding, "Maybe it's what they are feeding these chickens now."

"Oh, my," Trish gasp when seeing the soft jellylike pyramids released from their ladylike confinement. As often the case, once something is actually spoken about, it seems obvious and undeniable. How could Robin have thought that those swellings were vestiges of baby fat? How could he have not acknowledged these sweet signs of womanhood.

Trish gasp, "How could you fail to recognize the changes here?"

Robin looked down in humiliation. Trish knew the signs, Robin was developing, and fast. The A-cup was nearly too small causing them to be pushed up creating almost too much cleavage.