The Gift, Part 2

by Marlissa

Smedley shook his head wearily. They always made the attempt but somehow he thought this one might be unique. Rebecca had been so good, so well-behaved. He thought the little thing had even accepted his new fate. Oh well, it really didn't make much difference. The end was always the same. And besides now it was out of the way. After experiencing the pain of the invisible fence, they never considered escape again. The fence worked on the same principle as the ones used for dogs, the receiver built into the boy-girl's chastity belt. When attempting flight, the receiver sent a massive electrical shock throughout the subject's body. He put the paper down and went to retrieve the boy-girl, now shaking violently with the effect of the shock and nearly unconscious.

He gently threw the sobbing teen over his shoulder and brought him in the house, gently tucking Rebecca into his bed. Two hours later, the terrified teen stood in front of him, swearing that SHE would never, ever pull a stunt like that again. SHE gave him such a scared kittenish look that Smedley believed the teen completely.

"I--uh, like know what I am, Sir. I won't ever try to run away again. I was just being a silly airhead," the teen's soft voice broke and sniffled, then finished shamefully the sentence they both knew had to be uttered before forgiveness would be granted. "I was just being a silly airhead GIRL, Sir." Rebecca looked up, tried to hold tears back. "I promise, cross my heart," and the teen made the gesture, drawing his pretty pink painted nails over his petite bosom, "I won't ever run away again."

"No, you won't Rebecca," Smedley agreed, tacitly accepting the apology. "Now that we've got that nonsense out of the way, why don't you be a good girl and change into your swimsuit? It's peak tanning time and you need some sun."

Rebecca nodded and turned. SHE was back down stairs in ten minutes, modeling HER suit for him.

"Do you like what I'm wearing, Sir?" SHE asked anxiously. SHE pirouetted in a lime maillot suit. Why had he even given the teen a one-piece? He sighed disgustedly. Rebecca would require much management in the future.

"No, I don't, Rebecca. Now get up there and put on a bikini, like you knew I wanted. Don't," he added darkly, "make me correct you again."

Five minutes later Rebecca presented self in the suit Smedley wanted the teenager in.

"Do you like what I'm wearing, Sir?" the teen asked per the required formula. This time he nodded. The sissified boy looked scrumptious in the neon orange thong bikini. The top snuggled the little boobs tightly and the nipples poked against the fabric. The thong covered the chastity belt entirely and hugged the girlish hips like the proverbial second skin. It was a suit that would paint the most intimate tan lines in the most sensitive of places.

"Very nice. Now be sure to use plenty of sun block-- I don't want you getting sunburned!"

Rebecca nodded, threw the big beach towel over his shoulder and grabbed the lotion on the table. With a copy of SEVENTEEN in one hand and two cucumber slices in the other the shade the eyes, Rebecca pranced out into the heat of the late morning sun. Smedley watched the two orange buns as they jiggled tautly in the skimpy orange thong with a growing appetite, an appetite he suppressed. This was business after all.

Smedley rounded out the morning by making some calls and writing some letters. The mail brought new inquiries and he responded to these in turn till he noticed the clock on his desk. It was almost 2:00! He rose and leaning out the window, called out.

"Rebecca! Come inside now! It's almost time for your soap operas!"

Rebecca scampered up from the private beach. Smedley noted the goldening tone of the teen's skin with satisfaction. SHE smiled prettily for him as she entered the house.

"Thank you, Sir. Do I have enough time to change?" she asked plaintively.

He shook his head, eye on the long hand of his wristwatch. "No. It's on in less than a minute." He aimed the remote at the television and the screen blinked on. Rebecca scrunched up on the couch, hugging his knees expectantly as the announcer's voice introduced the daily dose of female silliness.

"And now, welcome to the steamy world of strong men and beautiful women, where all your dreams will come true-- the world of The Young Lovers!"

Smedley couldn't stand this idiocy, but it was a staple for Rebecca. It was the one outlet the boy-girl was allowed, the one place he-she could escape to. Since being brought here some months ago, Rebecca had become hooked on the soap.

"Oooh look, Sir! Derek Dirk is having an affair with Jaymi Desire! What a tramp she is!" Rebecca was completely immersed in the show now, chin on knees as he pressed his small bikini'ed breasts against them.

Smedley snickered as he left the room. Derek Dirk was far from the stud he portrayed on television. In deed, it was commonly known in the circles where such things were known, that the six foot tall, one time college football player and all- around hunk was thoroughly gay and had no interest in the women he seduced on The Young Lovers. Too bad, Smedley thought. What a wasted opportunity. Ironic he should enjoy such on-screen company without as much as a spark of desire for the opposite sex. That was life!

An hour later, Smedley returned to make sure the television was off. The Young Lovers was the ONLY show Rebecca was allowed to watch EVER and he didn't want the teen abusing privileges. Rebecca watched with resignation as the teevee was shut off for another day.

"Three o'clock, Rebecca. Time to do your exercises."

He jumped up obediently. "Yes, Sir." Without further instructions, the bikinied beach bunny was off to change into a spandex leotard and work out on the exercise equipment in the house gymnasium. Smedley left the femme alone for a bit, then poked his head in an hour later to check on HER.

SHE was puffing, sweet sweat trickling down the soft cheeks. The big dirty blonde mane was tucked under a red headband and the red unitard showed perspiration under the arms as the boy-girl worked away on the exercise cycle. Rebecca looked up, face flushed hotly. Smedley knew then what the pretty wench would look like in the throes of passion. He left quickly, removing temptation. It was too close now, too close to ruin.

"Dinner in an hour, Rebecca," he muttered.

Dinner was silent till Smedley began to question Rebecca about her show. Rebecca answered his questions about The Young Lovers with thrilling excitement. It was the only thing SHE was really an authority on.

"And Jaymi was such a b--I mean tramp, Sir, I'm sorry! She was a tramp and Derek found out and--"

"How would you describe Derek, Rebecca?"

The feminized boy looked into his plate. "I don't know how you mean, Sir."

"Oh, I think you do-- I mean, a pretty girl like you. I bet you have a crush on him, don't you?"

"I'm not a g--" he shut his pouty mouth then, and continued bravely. "I'm not a girl, Sir." Chin trembling, but there, he had said it.

The response was laughter-- withering, devastating laughter. "Oh, really? Then why do you look like a girl? Why do you dress, act, feel, THINK like a girl? Huh, Rebecca? Funny, I never meet a boy who was named Rebecca!"

The teen's eyes grew damp. "You made me this way! You made me into a g--"

"GIRL! That's right, Rebecca! Say it! GIRL! Pretty, sexy teenage girl!"

Rebecca looked away in shock. "No, no," he whispered weakly, "please, no!"

"Oh, yes! Yes indeed, Rebecca!" Smedley insisted.

"You said you would help me at the bus station, that you would--"

"Take care of you," Smedley completed. "And I have. Now, back to Derek--"

But Rebecca was sobbing inconsolately now. "May I be excused, Sir? May I go to bed...please, please, Sir?" he pleaded pathetically.

Smedley looked at his watch. Tomorrow would be a big day for Rebecca and he nodded. "Yes, you may Rebecca. But I want you to say your prayers first."

Rebecca nodded, wiping tears away. He closed his eyes and brushed his lips against Smedley's cheeks goodnight. Smedley patted the boy-girl's backside and told HER to run along.

"You'll feel better tomorrow, Princess."

Smedley enjoyed his evening coffee at the table, listening to the water running in the bathroom. Rebecca was getting ready for bed. He would wait a few minutes then check on HER.

Rebecca splashed the water on the yellow facecloth, careful to remove the tears and makeup. Residue makeup could cause pimples and Sir wouldn't like that. As mad as he was (he still thought of himself no matter what Sir said), he didn't want to cross his kidnapper. Sir was only too happy to take him over his knee for a good hard spanking. And before Rebecca had "calmed down" it had been a lot more that spankings! Sir had layed into his butt with canes, riding crops, and paddles until he had accepted his new identity as Rebecca.

As he peeled off his clothes, he looked down at the humiliating thing on his "Mischief-maker." It didn't hurt so much now, since he had stopped thinking about girls THAT way. He was a girl now, that was what Sir said, so thinking about girls THAT way didn't make any sense did it? Rebecca hadn't answered. I mean I can't even remember what I was called before Rebecca, can I? he thought furiously.

"Have you combed your hair yet, Rebecca?"

"I'm about to do it, Sir!" he cried back promptly. He fished in his drawer for something to wear to bed. He picked out a baby blue cotton teddy that looked comfy, slipping into it. Then he drew off his hairband and sitting in front of his vanity, began the hundred strokes of the brush required nightly, counting aloud so Sir might hear. When he had reached one hundred, the stairs creaked. Sir poked his head in.

"Say your prayers, Rebecca."

Rebecca dropped to his knees, closing his eyes and folding his hands in prayer. He hated that Sir was watching over him, but he was required to say all his prayers before getting into bed.

"God, please bless Mister Smedley who has been so nice to me and trained me to become a little princess. Please help me to make my face prettier, my breasts bigger, my butt cuter and my waist smaller so that boys will like me. Please help me to remember that I am a girl and should act, think and feel like one all the time. Please make my Mischief-maker behave. And please forgive me for trying to run away today. It was very naughty of me and I won't do it again."

Rebecca looked up at Sir questioningly. He smiled. "Good girl. Now get your beauty rest for tomorrow."

Rebecca snuggled into his bed, pulling the sheets to cover his chest and closed his eyes. He felt Sir kiss his forehead and then the door was shut and locked. Then Rebecca thought about The Young Lovers. Why had Sir asked him about Derek Dirk so much tonight? It was a question that was soon forgotten as thought turned to slumber.

Smedley checked the door lock again, an old habit, and dashed down to get the ringing phone.

"Lila? Yes, how nice to hear from you. Yes, everything is quite all right. Yes, sixteen-- isn't it wonderful? I loved your idea for her birthday to be on Valentine's Day! What a wonderful combination of events to celebrate every year! I know it's been a long wait, but well worth it, I assure you. You got the photo? Well, she's developed since then. I think you'll be very happy. Yes, I have obtained the proper papers for you. Oh, quite legal- - all of them. I have, ah, friends who do this for me all the time. Rebecca will be your young cousin, your uncle's daughter. No one has to know you don't have an uncle, Lila! You'll be the legal ward with complete authority over her. Relax Lila, you're not my first customer, you know!

No, she's not at all, in fact she's very flat-- the way you think Derek would prefer wanted her to be! A 32A in a training bra! Yes, the little thing is locked up for good. Rebecca will be "catching all Derek's pitches" so to speak, unable to throw any of her own. Oh, I think you'll be quite pleased with her ass, Lila. Quite tight and thoroughly virgin---until you give her to Derek tomorrow I assume!

Yes, she's a big fan of the show. I'm sure that in time she'll learn to love him. If not, there are other ways of enforcing discipline and affection, ways I'm sure I don't need to elaborate on. Believe me, Rebecca is quite familiar with them.

Did the technicians show up to install the invisible fence in Derek's apartment? Good. I'll give you the mobile control too, in case he wants to bring her out and show her off. It fits on a keychain-- very unobtrusive.

Yes, this is a nice solution. It should eventually dispel all those nasty rumors about your client. He'll continue to be the hunk of The Young Lovers and everyone will think he's completely straight when he marries Rebecca in a year or two. In the meantime, he can train her to her new duties as teenybopper soap groupie.

Yes, the money was deposited in my Caymans account-- thank you! Goodnight Lila. See you at the party tomorrow. Of course I know its a surprise! And may I say that I am thrilled to be of service to you. If I were Derek and MY agent gave me such a wonderful birthday gift, I'd be delighted too!"

Smedley put the phone back into the receiver cradle. He so loved his work and the money was so good. Another job completed, another satisfied customer. That's what it was all about. Suddenly he felt like a veritable Santa bringing gifts to good boys everywhere. Ah, but Santa didn't live in West Palm, did he? And he didn't leave pretty packages like Rebecca no matter how good a boy you were. Good thing I'm around, thought Smedley and smiled.

THE END