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