"No way," Decky said. "There is no way you're taking me to the beach. Not today, not ever!"
His wife Anne picked him up and sat him on her lap. He tried to wriggle away, but she held him in place and kissed his forehead.
"Come on, honey. You need to get out of the house. You can't spend the rest of your life here in the house, pouting."
"I'm not pouting! I just don't want anybody to see me. You don't know what it's like. Everybody stares at me."
"Well, they think you're a cute little girl." Anne suppressed a smirk. "And you ARE cute."
She snuggled him closer. He tried to get free of her lap, but she wouldn't let him go. As angry as Decky was, it felt so good to be close to Anne's big, warm, soft body that he could hardly think straight. They hadn't been able to make love since his accident at the lab, so being cuddled and kissed like a baby was all the action he was getting these days.
"Come on," Anne said enticingly. "We'll all have so much fun at the beach. You'll see."
She kissed his cheek, her breath hot on his skin. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?
"No," he said. "I can't go. Please. It's too..."
He struggled to think of the word. It was one of the side-effects of his transformation. His mind had been affected in various ways, and sometimes it was hard to remember big words. He sighed, hating that he had to ask for help.
"What's the word for when something makes you feel real bad, like everybody is laughing at you?"
Anne smiled sweetly.
"Is it humiliating?"
"Yeah! It's that! It's humiliating when people see me like this! Like when that stupid old lady yesterday pinched my cheeks. She didn't even ask, first!"
"Oh, she was just being nice."
"No, she wasn't!"
Decky scrambled off of Anne's lap and faced her. Even sitting down, Anne was still taller than he was.
"She wasn't being nice! She was being..."
He struggled to think of another word. Whenever he got mad, it made it even harder to think of big words.
"Condensed," he said, feeling proud of himself for thinking of it. "She was being really condensed!"
Anne looked puzzled, but then she laughed.
"Do you mean condescending, sweetie?"
Decky wanted to scream. It was all just too much. He was stuck as a stupid little girl, he couldn't think of the big words he used to use every day, and now his own wife was laughing at him.
"I won't go to the beach!" He stamped his foot. "I won't, and you can't make me!"
He caught himself, realizing that he sounded just like a child throwing a tantrum. Anne smiled gently, leaned forward and took his hand.
"Just give it a chance," she said. "I really think it's a good idea for us to go. We've been cooped up too long, we need some fresh air and sunshine."
Decky folded his arms and didn't say anything. The truth was, some part of him DID want to go. His new body had a lot of restless energy, and it did sound kind of fun to run around on the beach, maybe make a sand castle with Anne and go for a swim together.
"Well," he said sulkily, "OK, maybe I'll go. But only if it's just us. You have to find a babysitter for Claire. She can't come."
Anne rolled her eyes. Claire was Anne's daughter, and Decky's step-daughter.
"Oh, Jesus." She rubbed her temples, looking tired. "Come on, Decky. Of course she's coming, too. You and Claire have been arguing so much lately, it'd be good for you two to get out and have some fun together."
"But she's so mean to me! Every time you're not looking, she picks on me! She's always teasing me about being a girl, and being younger than her."
"She's just still getting used to the new you. It has to be traumatic for her, to see her daddy like this. She's acting out."
"But she hits me!" He held up his arm. "See this bruise? That's from when she hit me yesterday. I didn't do anything, and she hit me!"
"I know she can be rough, sometimes. But you two have to work it out. Come on, I'll be there the whole time to make sure she behaves."
"Great. My wife can be my bodyguard, so my nine-year-old step-daughter won't beat me up."
Decky found himself fighting tears. With each day it seemed to get harder to control his emotions. He would argue with Anne or Claire, and suddenly he would start bawling.
Anne bent down low and took his hand again.
"Shh. Come on, baby, it's OK."
"No, it's not!" He felt a tear on his cheek, and he wiped it away. "I hate this. I just wanna be a man again. I wanna be ME!"
She looked down at him sadly.
"Sweetie, I know how hard all of this is for you. But you have to try to get used to your new body. This is who you are, now. Is being a kid really so bad? You're getting to start your whole life over, you just got back another 30 years of your life. You're going to live two lifetimes, one as a boy and one as a girl. How many people can say that?"
"But I don't wanna be a stupid girl!"
"Aw, you'll see. Being a girl really isn't so bad."
She tried to put her arm around his shoulder, but he shrugged it roughly away.
"Stop talking like that! I won't be like this forever. I'll change back into myself soon. The guys at the lab are still working on it. This is only temp... temper... tempro..."
Anne sighed.
"Temporary. Of course it is, sweetie. I'm sure you'll turn back. Someday."
Decky looked away. They both knew she was only saying that so he'd feel better. The guys at the lab had said they could probably never change him back. But he couldn't let go of his hope. Somehow, someway, he had to change back into a man.
"Come on," Anne said. "It's time to go out, and start having fun again. You'll love the beach. Once you get out there in the ocean and start splashing around, you and Claire will have a great time."
She stood up, towering over him. It was still disorienting to stand by her side. She was twice his size.
"I'm gonna go put on my swimsuit," she said. "I'll just be a minute. Claire's already wearing hers."
She turned to go, but he grabbed her hand.
"Anne, no! Come on, what am I supposed to even wear to the beach? I don't have any beach clothes."
She shrugged.
"Wear one of Claire's old swimsuits."
Decky's jaw dropped, and Anne laughed.
"Oh, don't act like it's such a big deal. You know her clothes fit you fine. You're wearing her old stuff, right now."
Decky looked down at his t-shirt and shorts, feeling ashamed. It was true. His clothes, his shoes, even his underwear, it was all clothing that Claire had outgrown.
"I'm only wearing this stupid stuff because I have to. I hate wearing Claire's hand-me-downs."
"Well, I keep saying we should take you shopping and get you some clothes that fit. Claire's stuff is so baggy on you."
Decky didn't answer. As creepy and weird as it was to wear Claire's clothes, the idea of actually shopping for new children's clothing was even more horrible. It would be like admitting that he was going to stay this way, that he needed his own wardrobe, a closet full of little girl shirts and doll-sized shoes.
"Go on," Anne said, gesturing towards Claire's room. "Just grab a swimsuit from one of her drawers. And don't take too long, I wanna get there while it's still nice and warm."
"But, honey..."
"Don't worry, I made Claire promise not to walk in on you while you were changing."
And then Anne turned and left, without another word. Decky knew she wouldn't listen to any more arguments. As far as she was concerned, the matter was settled.
He stood there for a moment, hating everything, but then it suddenly hit him: he was going to see his wife in a swimsuit. Probably her red bikini, the one that always made him crazy.
Even if he couldn't touch her the way he used to, at least he would get to see her show off that amazing body again. When she went swimming, the spandex would cling to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. She would kiss him, her skin warm against his, her wet hair smelling like the sea, and he could close his eyes and pretend he was a man again. It would be worth going to the beach, just for that moment.
He stepped into the hall, looking both ways for Claire. He was very relieved not to see her anywhere. He peeked into her room, and she wasn't there.
He rushed inside, quietly closing the door behind him and praying Claire would keep her word to Anne, and not walk in on him while he was changing. He didn't even want to think about what would happen is she saw him naked.
He fumbled around in her drawers, trying to find a one-piece swimsuit. He found one, yanked off his clothes and pulled the swimsuit on. It was much too large, it kept slipping off his shoulders. Claire was almost nine, and his new body was more like six or seven.
He dug around in the drawer some more until he found a little two-piece, pale pink with yellow flowers. He cringed. It looked like it would fit, but he couldn't wear this thing in public. He couldn't.
He thought about Anne in that red bikini again. If he was going to see her like that, he had to find something to wear to the beach. He would just try this stupid pink swimsuit on, and see if it fit.
He slipped off the one-piece and stepped into the tiny bikini panties, trying not to think about what he was doing. Then he pulled on the top and looked at himself in the mirror.
A tiny blonde in a pink swimsuit looked back at him with wide, fearful eyes. She looked like a child model on a bottle of suntan lotion. The suit showed far more of his childish body than he was comfortable with, displaying his twiggy legs and babyfat pot belly, his pale shoulders lacking any trace of muscular development. The worst part was his bikini bottoms. There was no trace of a bulge. Nothing.
He crossed his arms across his chest. Even though his chest was flat, being dressed like this made him think about what it would be like if he had breasts. If he really was stuck as a girl, he was going to develop breasts.
All the women in his family were very busty, and he probably would be, too. Having a vagina was already hard to get used to, but how would he cope with having big breasts? And periods! He would have a period, every month. Cramps and bloating, and blood, coming from between his legs. He would need tampons. He would have to wear bras. He was going to be a woman, for real.
Just looking at his cute, little girl face, you could see he would make a pretty woman. Being a cute little girl was bad enough, but there was no way he could live as a pretty woman with big breasts. At least as a child, men weren't ogling him or trying to get him into bed. Today, men pinched his cheeks. Someday, they would pinch his ass.
He forced himself to stop thinking about the bad things that could happen in the future, all the tampons and bras and men leering at him. He just had to get through today.
He uncrossed his arms and tried to see himself the way adults would. Nobody would laugh at him. He would just look like some kid on the beach. People would think he was cute, just like Anne said.
On a whim, he struck a silly, little girl pose, clasping his hands together beneath his chin and grinning sweetly at his reflection. It did look really cute, there was no denying it. He put his hands on his hips and stuck out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
"Pwease, Daddy," he said in gooey babytalk. "If I pwomise to behave, can't I pwease have my own widdew pony? Pwetty pwease, wif shuggah on top?"
He busted up giggling. He looked so adorable, it was ridiculous. No wonder people were always trying to kiss him and hug him! That's probably why Claire was always so mean. He was cuter than she was, and she was jealous.
He glanced over at the stuffed animals on Claire's bed, and felt a pang of jealousy. Lately some part of him had been drawn to toys, to teddy bears and even dolls. He kept trying to deny that yearning, to squash it down, but it just kept getting stronger. Claire had so many toys, and she hardly ever played with any of them. It wasn't fair.
There was a click behind him, and he turned to see Claire saunter in. She loomed over him, a sneer on her pretty face. She was a scrawny, pigtailed, blonde child in a blue, ruffly swimsuit, but the sight of her struck terror in his heart.
"Claire, you're not supposed to come in here while I'm changing! Leave me alone!"
She gave him a little shove.
"That's my swimsuit, shorty. What are you doing wearing it?"
He crossed his arms over his chest self-consiously.
"Get out of here, Claire. Right now."
"Why are wearing my swimsuit? That's not yours, shorty."
Claire was looking at his body, there was no hiding his girlhood, his littleness. Decky had never felt so helpless or ashamed. He looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes.
"Well, if we're going to the beach, I have to wear something, don't I? Your mother said I should wear this."
Claire looked at him for a long moment, a weird grin on her face. And then without another word she attacked him, shoving him to the carpet.
Decky had been a strict step-parent, and since his transformation Claire had been taking full advantage of his new, smaller size, making him pay for every spanking he'd ever given her. He tried to fight her off, but she was two or three years older than he was, and she was just too big.
Just as Claire got him in a vicious headlock, Anne called from down the hall.
"Decky? What's going on in there?"
Claire clamped her hand over his mouth and hissed in his ear.
"Keep quiet, or I'll pound you bad."
Decky bit her fingers, hard enough that she had to pull her hand off his mouth. Still vainly struggling to get free, Decky choked out, "Anne! Help! Claire is trying to kill me!"
Claire hit him hard on the arm, the same place she'd hit him yesterday. He whimpered with pain, and Claire grabbed the back of his hair and pulled.
"You're such a stupid baby, always crying to mom. If you tell mom I was beating on you, you'll REALLY get it!"
Just then the bedroom door swung open, revealing Anne in her red bikini. She loomed over both of them like some beautiful statue in a town square.
"Claire! What are you doing in here? You said you'd wait while Daddy was changing."
"She bit me, mommy," Claire whined. "She bit me on my hand!"
Anne grabbed Claire's wrist and pulled her close to look at her hand.
"It DOES look a little red." She turned to Decky. "What the hell happened in here?"
Decky stood up. He was already crying again.
"She was beating me up, and she had me down on the floor with her hand over my mouth."
"So you BIT her?"
"It was the only way I could get her to stop. She was hurting me, Anne. I didn't bite hard."
Anne looked at him incredulously for a moment. Then she turned to Claire.
"What have I told you about picking on daddy?"
"She's not my daddy anymore! She's always trying to tell me what to do, and she's just a dumb baby!"
"It's bad to pick on people who are smaller than you are, Claire. You KNOW that."
Anne got down on one knee to look at Decky.
"Are you ok, sweetie?"
He glanced over at Claire. She was sneering at him. She loved to goad him into losing control and acting like a baby.
He knew that if he let himself break down sobbing now, like he wanted to, he would end up on Anne's lap again, weeping for twenty minutes while she kissed him and hugged him and made everything better. He wanted Anne's consolation more than anything right now, he wanted her to treat him like a kid. But he had to fight it. He was not a little girl. He was a man.
"I'm fine," he said. "Claire was teasing me again, and it got out of hand. But it's no big deal."
He rose unsteadily to his feet. Anne looked at him suspiciously.
"You sure, honey?"
She was leaning forward, smiling sweetly. In her red bikini. Her cleavage right there at eye level, her full lips painted just so, her hair up in a ponytail to expose her long, slender neck. He glanced down at her full breasts, her tight stomach and thighs, the hint of cameltoe in the crotch of her bikini. He had to look away. He couldn't cope with desiring her right now, it was too confusing, too many emotions at once.
He forced a smile.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"Well, OK. I'll finish getting ready, and we'll leave for the beach in a minute. But I don't wanna hear any more rough-housing from you girls!"
As soon as Anne was gone, Claire fixed Decky with an evil grin.
"Did you hear that? Mom called you a girl."
Decky looked away, his mind racing. Anne HAD called him a girl. What the hell was that about? Was she actually forgetting that he was a man, that he was her husband?
"It was just a slip of the tongue. She didn't mean it."
"Oh, yeah?" Tabitha's grin was so wide he could see her missing biscupid. "Remember a few days ago, when she called you a brat?"
Decky had been trying to forget about that. They'd been arguing, and Anne got mad and called him a little brat while Claire was there. Anne had apologized, but it had stunned him that she would ever say something like that, no matter how angry she was.
"She didn't mean it! Shut up!"
Despite himself, Decky began to sob. He was losing control. It was hard to think.
"She DID mean it," Claire said. "She told me so! Yesterday, after mom tucked you in for your nap, I asked her if she thought you really were a brat, and she said yes!"
"No, she didn't. You're lying!"
"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Claire drew a cross across her chest with her hand. "She said you act more like a baby every day. She said you're a brat! I swear, she said it!"
Decky looked at Claire carefully. She would say anything to hurt him, but somehow he knew that this time she was telling the truth.
"She said she just tells you you're still a grown-up so she won't hurt your feelings. She said now that you're little, I have to act mature and take care of you. She said I'm your big sister now! I'm the big sister, and you're just a baby!"
The tears were gushing down Decky's cheeks, now. He had totally lost control. He was a child trying to find adult words to say or thoughts to think, and none would come.
"You're a big, mean liar," he whimpered. "And when I turn back into a grownup, you're gonna get it!"
Claire was backing him against the wall, her breath smelling like fudge, hot against his face. He desperately wanted to toss her over his knee and spank her the way he used to, but he knew it was now far more likely that Claire would spank him.
"You know what else?" Claire's voice dripped with terrible malice. "This morning I asked mom if you're gonna have to go to school when it starts next week, and she said yes. She made me promise not to tell you, but you're gonna have to go to school, and you'll be two grades lower than me. You're gonna be in the baby class, where you belong!"
His mind reeled. Claire couldn't possibly be telling the truth. Could she? He tried to make his voice stern and parental, but it came out a quavering, little girl's sob.
"You're crazy! I'm not going back to school, I'm a grown man!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, you don't LOOK like a man! You look like a baby girl!"
"I'm not a baby girl!" He stamped his foot. "I'm a man! I am!"
"Then where's your peepee, huh? Boys have peepees, and you don't have one."
She lunged for him. He tried to get away, but Claire got a hold of his bikini panties and yanked them down below his knees. Decky heard himself let out a high, girlish shriek as his step-daughter pushed him to the carpet and yanked the panties off his ankles and held them high.
"Just like I thought," Claire laughed, waving the panties above his head. "You have girl parts! You're just a stupid little baby girl, now!"
She ran to the window and flung his panties out to the parking lot two stories below. He frantically tried to run for the door, but Claire grabbed him and flung him onto her bed. She pulled him over her lap and pressed her hand down hard on the small of his back, so he couldn't get away.
She was going to spank him. She was really going to do it.
He felt a hard slap across his bottom, and then another and another and another, each one harder than the last. He tried to get up, but Claire shoved him down again and kept spanking. Decky's vision went blurry with tears, and he heard a little girl's wail coming from his own throat, a child crying out for her mommy to come and save her.
The door swung open again. Decky felt Claire's hands move away, so he jumped to his feet, his little hands cupped over his bare crotch. Anne looked back and forth between them.
"What the hell is going on in here?"
"She started it, mommy," Claire whined. "She was teasing me, saying she's still a boy and she's better than me!"
"I did not! She attacked me and threw my underwear out the window, and then she spanked me! She spanked me, Anne! Like I was a baby!"
Decky had assumed Anne would rush to his side and comfort him, but instead she just balled her fists and growled in pure frustration.
"ENOUGH! I don't care who started it, I've had it with you two! Forget going to the beach, you're both staying home today. Claire, go down and get your sister's panties, and when you come back you're going to clean your room."
As she left the room, Claire gave Decky a nasty, triumphant grin. As soon as Claire was gone, Decky looked up at his wife with outrage in his eyes.
"What the hell was that? You called me her sister! And you said we were BOTH staying home, like you were punishing me!"
She grabbed a pink bath towel off Claire's dresser and bent down to tie it around Decky's waist to cover him up, like a skirt.
"Look, I'm sorry, but you don't know what this is like. All of a sudden I'm raising two kids on my own."
"I'm NOT a kid! Stop calling me that!"
Anne sighed heavily, more irritated than contrite.
"Don't yell at me, Decky. I've had enough of your tantrums."
"Did you really tell Claire that I'm a brat?"
That seemed to catch her off guard.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Claire said you told her I'm a brat."
Anne just shook her head, obviously past the point of lying to spare his feelings.
"Well... I said SOMETIMES you're a brat. SOMETIMES. And sometimes you are. You know I love you, but you can be very moody and difficult to handle, Decky."
"What about school? Did you really say you're sending me to school?"
Anne sat down on the bed, looking utterly fed up and exhausted.
"I told her I was THINKING about it. Damn it, she promised she wouldn't tell you."
Decky was so upset he could hardly speak. Anne was thinking about sending him to school, like he was really a kid, and she was his mom!
"You can't make me go to school!" He jumped up and down, too angry to stand still. "I won't go! You can't make me!"
Anne spoke in the even, firm tone Decky had heard her use many times during their Claire's tantrums when she was little.
"Decky, you have to accept that your transformation is affecting you mentally as well as physically. You're acting more and more like a kid. I mean, you just BIT your sister!"
"She's not my sister! And I only bit her because she was beating me up!"
"Decky, shut your little mouth, right now."
Somehow, the quiet way that Anne said it was scarier than it would've been if she had yelled. She was giving an order, and she expected him to obey.
"I've been off work for weeks to take care of you, and I need to go back soon. You need a place to go every day, and people to take care of you when I'm not around. You're a little girl now, Decky. It's time to stop pretending you're anything else."
She sighed.
"I'm sorry. But you're going to school, and that's that."
"No!" Decky stomped his small, bare foot as hard as he could. "I'm a grown-up! I won't go back to school! I'm your husband, I'm the man of the house, and you have to listen to me!"
Anne just rolled her eyes.
"I'm not listening to this crap. You can throw your tantrum, but on Monday morning you're going to school, and that's all there is to it!"
She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Decky tried to calm himself down and think rationally, but it was impossible. Something in his mind had changed, that last outburst had cost him something. He didn't feel like a grownup anymore, not even a little bit.
He looked over at the teddy bear on Claire's bed. He remembered buying it for her about six months ago. She didn't even like it, even though it was a real cute bear. She was so mean, and stupid.
He picked up the bear and held it close to his chest, hot tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. What was the grown-up word for when everybody was mean to you, and they thought they could tell you what to do, just because your were little? There had to be a word for it.
Grownups had big words for everything.