3 – The Tournament

Sonja entered the women’s locker room at the Maplecrest Country Club where the one-day, eighteen-hole tournament was to be played. The foursome from Riverside decided to go into the locker room as a group, all to make sure that the new young lady in their midst could change easily and comfortably into their golf outfits. Fortunately, the Maplecrest Club – one of the newest in the area – had state-of-the-art facilities, including a huge, rambling clubhouse with large locker rooms for both male and female golfers. The women’s locker room area had the added luxury of changing stalls so that the fussy wealthy members could change in private; similarly, the showers were portioned off, offering complete privacy.

“How does it feel to be one of us?” Tess whispered as she led her new sister into the locker room.

“I’m thrilled,” Sonja said, realizing her heart was beating hard and fast.

“You better settle down, honey, since you’ve got a golf game to play.”

“I hope I can, Tessie.”

The group found four empty lockers and began to take off their shorts or skirts and blouses, disrobing down to panties and bras. Eager to be part of the group, Sonja chose not to use the private changing stalls; she wore simple white cotton panties over a gaff and a Size 34A sports bra that covered the small breast forms that had been affixed with an adhesive to her chest. As she did so, she looked about to see a host of other young women engaged in the same changing routine.

“Sonja, you have such a lovely young girl’s body.” Heather moved next to her, speaking softly so as no others would hear.

Sonja felt Heather’s hands caress her slender arm gently, her touch sensuous and suggestive. The rumor was that Heather, even though she was the single mother of two, had a lesbian partner. Sonja wondered if the woman was hitting upon her.

“We have a golf match to win, Heather,” Tess said.

“Of course we do,” the woman said, moving back to complete changing.

Tess moved in between Sonja and Heather and began to change her clothes. When Heather left to go to the bathroom, Tess said to her sister: “Beware of her, sis, I’m told she likes younger women.”

Sonja nodded and turned to complete changing into the golf clothes. She hadn’t realized how young women can often be the object of the desires of others, both male and female; first it had been Juan and now it was Heather and she’d be playing eighteen holes of golf in their company. Even the club president at one time seemed to make suggestive comments to her.

*****
The tournament was nothing more than a fun event for employees of the country clubs in the area; yet, there was a small gallery of spectators gathered around the first tee, watching the foursomes take their initial shots.

Sonja’s heart beat loudly as she walked up, accompanied by Heather, who seemed to crowd against her as the walked up the path.

“Do I have to tee off before all these people?” Sonja said softly to Heather.

“Yes, honey, but don’t let that bother you. Just concentrate on hitting the ball and relax. I’ll be here by your side,” Heather said, running her hand gently up and down Sonja’s arm as they walked.

“I know, but what if I just dribble one off the tee? They’ll all laugh.”

“You won’t dear.”

While Heather’s affectionate actions concerned Sonja, she couldn’t help being comforted by the woman. Sonja felt warm and protected in the presence of Heather whose physical strength was accompanied by her commanding manner.

Just like a pro tournament, the players had to walk the course. Caddies were supplied by the home club so that the women did not have to carry their own clubs. Sonja’s caddy introduced himself as Matthew, a tall, thin young man who wore granny glasses that seemed to spell out nerd; his appearance was certainly misleading as Herman, the caddy who carried for Heather, informed them that Matthew was captain of his university’s varsity golf team.

“You might do well to ask his advice on the course, since he knows this course well,” Herman, a muscular African-American young man, informed Sonja.

Heather and Sonja would play with two women from the Oakview Country Club, a thirtyish slender blonde named Kathy and a huskier African-American woman of about twenty named Belinda. Both were cheerful and Sonja began to feel at ease in their company.

“Let’s just have fun today,” Heather said to the group. They all smiled as they shook hands.

After a ball toss to determine which team would tee-off first, it was determined that Sonja would hit first, followed by the two from Oakview with Heather hitting last. “Can’t I trade off that to one of you?” Sonja asked, disturbed by the process of being the first to hit.

“You’re it, girl,” Belinda said smiling.

There was a creek that ran across the fairway at about 160 yards out, posing little threat to long-hitting golfers who could easily hit the ball far enough to carry the water. Sonja knew that if she hit the ball perfectly she had a good chance to carry and she was determined to do so. Furthermore, she had watched two foursomes tee off while awaiting her turn to play, and most of the women easily hit the ball over the creek; several did hit the ball purposefully and came up just short of the water, while two others hit into the water.

“Give me my driver,” she told Matthew.

“Ma’am, might I suggest that you use the five-wood so that you can just lay up. You don’t hit a long ball, ma’am,” Matthew said, his words most respectful.

Sonja smiled, realizing that Matthew must have been observing her puny drives during the practice time on the golf range. Remembering the other caddy’s suggestion, she thought it best to take Matthew’s advice and accepted the shorter-hitting club. Using the five-wood, she knew, would be reassuring, since she knew she would more likely swing easily and less likely to dribble a shot off the tee.

Each golfer was introduced through a loudspeaker system: “Please welcome the teams from Oakview and Riverside Country Clubs to the tee. First to tee off will be Sonja Warner from Riverside.”

There was a smattering of applause from the small gallery; as she walked up to the tee, hoping not to look too nervous, she saw Juan and Brick Walters, the club president, watching. She was shocked as she saw Walters give her a sly wink followed by a “thumbs-up” with a broad smile. Sonja momentarily was shocked at the obvious flirting done by the older man, but then realized she needed to concentrate on hitting the ball.

Every eye in the crowd was upon Sonja – easily one of the most fetching and lovely young women among the golfers – as she stood next to her teed-up ball. She took one easy practice swing, and using a philosophy taught by her sister, she immediately addressed the ball, eyed it and swung in the easy motion she had learned, hitting the ball squarely. It rose straight and true, taking a lazy arc before landing about ten yards short of the creek, a perfect spot from which to launch her second shot.

“That was perfect, Sonja,” Heather said.

Not unexpectedly, all three of the other golfers hit long, beautiful drives well over the creek; Sonja realized she’d be the weakest hitter among the girls in her foursome. What happened on the first hole formed a pattern for the entire eighteen holes. Heather’s drives always boomed out some 250 yards and for the most part stayed straight and true. The two Oakview golfers, Kathy and Belinda, hit long drives as well, but their hits usually strayed off the fairway, making for difficult second shots. Sonja’s drives never got much longer than 175 yards, but they were straight down the middle.

The first hole was a par five and was 510 yards in length from the women’s tees, and Sonja feared she’d be badly outscored due to the weak hits. Yet, Sonja managed to get a five, her three short hits getting her to the fringe of the green in three; she chipped up within five feet of the hole and sank her putt easily for a five. Heather was next to the green in two shots, but her approach to the hole put her more than 30 feet away and forced her to scramble for her par. Both the Oakview girls got sixes, having lost a shot when their drives ended up in the rough grass among trees, forcing them to waste a shot just to get back on the fairway.

“Girl, you’re something around the green,” Belinda said after the first few holes and having watched as Sonja proved she could make up for her short hits with skillful approaches and precise putting.

“I wish I could hit my drives as long as you girls,” Sonja replied as they waited to tee off for the fifth hole, a short par three over the same creek that crossed the first hole and would be a hazard on several later holes as well. Sonja and Belinda sat next to each other on the bench as they watched the foursome in front of them finish putting on the green.

“You don’t need to hit the ball any further, dear,” Belinda said. “You’re such a pretty, delicate creature I’m surprised you’re able to hit the ball as far as you do.”

Heather sat down on the other side of Sonja and put an arm about her shoulders. She said: “She is a pretty thing, isn’t she? I thought she was named to our team because our coach, Juan, was hot for her, but I can see she’s more than a pretty face.”

Sonja blushed. She look down to see her smooth, soft, slender forearms and tiny wrists as they rested upon her lap; she looked over and the firm, veined arms of the young African-American woman sitting next to her. The other women were strong and hard and Sonja realized that she was on the course as just another girl, not expected to play well or to hit the ball hard. She imagined how shamed she’d feel if she were golfing as a teenaged boy named Sonny and was being regularly beaten out by the young women.

In spite of the fact that they were in competition, Heather and Sonja found they liked Belinda and Kathy and the four young women continued to encourage each other and to commiserate when one of them got into trouble with a hit. Not surprisingly, they began to giggle a lot. Soon there was a bet placed on whether Sonja would ever hit a ball as far as 200 yards; Belinda and Kathy said they’d buy the Riverside girls a milk shake at the club if Sonja finally achieved the goal; otherwise, Sonja and Heather would do the buying.

Sonja was determined to win the bet, even though there seemed to be little chance she’d succeed. The ninth hole offered an opportunity, since the tee shot was downhill and the wind was from behind, perfect conditions for a long hit. Sonja’s hit sounded solid and firm and headed out straight before it developed a slight hook to the right, which would help to put over-spin on the ball. It settled down at just about the 200 yard mark.

“Did I make it?” she said, squealing for joy.

“Not sure,” Heather said.

The other girls’ drives ended up more than 250 yards down the fairway, making Sonja’s Herculean effort seem pathetic by comparison.

“We’re rooting for you Sonja,” Belinda said as the foursome with their caddies moved down the fairway.

Just then a golf cart came up from behind. It was Brick, the Riverside Club president, who intermittently stopped by to watch the foursome; he was making a practice of checking on the foursomes as part of the tournament committee.

“He seems to be following us much more closely than the others,” Heather said.

“I think he’s got his eye on our beauty queen here,” Kathy said, nodding in Sonja’s direction.

“How you girls doing?” Brick inquired cheerfully, his eyes focused on Sonja.

“Just fine, sir.” Belinda said.

“What are you eyeing so carefully, Heather?” Brick asked, having spied Heather trying to line up Sonja’s ball to see if it went 200 yards.

“We’re just seeing if this hit went 200 yards, sir,” Belinda said.

“I don’t think it did,” Sonja said.

“No, I think you hit it 200 yards, Sonja, and we owe you and Heather a shake,” Kathy said.

Brick watched the girls as they discussed whether the ball went 200 yards. “What’s the issue, girls?”

“Well, sir, we’re all rooting for Sonja to hit a ball 200 yards and the way this ball is sitting it’s kind of hard to tell,” Belinda said.

“Oh let me look,” he said, getting out of the golf cart and eyeing the position of the ball.

“What do you think?” Belinda asked.

Brick pondered the situation, finally said, with a smile and a wink toward Sonja, “I’d say she hit the ball 200 yards. Here she’s maybe two yards short, right, but the tees were set way back, adding at least five yards to the distance a ball must travel in order to get as far as the 200-yard marker.”

“I did?” Sonja squealed, and on impulse approached the tall, portly man and stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, suddenly growing red in the face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“That was fine, Sonja. I enjoyed it,” he said, smiling.

“I might have thought,” Belinda said, faking a look of disgust. “She bribed him.”

“I did not,” Sonja protested.

Suddenly, the other girls all laughed, and Belinda’s partner, Kathy said, “Guess we owe you two a shake.”

“And thank you for the sweet kiss, Sonja,” Brick said as he climbed laboriously into the golf cart. He waved a cheery good-bye and added a wink toward Sonja before driving off.

“Looks like you got a friend here, Sonja, but watch out maybe he’s not such a harmless old flirt after all,” Heather giggled.

“Maybe I’ll have to tell him what you did – that I only like girls,” Sonja said, giggling.

Sonja knew she must have blushed. She wondered what kind of designs the older man might have upon her. It was a strange thought, since Brick Walters was made aware that pretty as she was, Sonja was still anatomically a boy. Was that what intrigued him? Sonja was bothered as well by the attention she got from Juan, who joined the foursome for the second nine holes of golf. He spent the first nine walking with Tess and Marie in their match. Even in the midst of the competition, Juan seemed to spend an inordinate amount of his time giving her hints on how to swing, what club to use and where to aim her hit so that she’d get the best benefit of the roll.

In the week leading up to the tournament, he seemed to concentrate mainly on Sonja, almost totally ignoring the others. He used a hands-on teaching style, often standing behind her, engulfing her with his arms and guiding her through the swing. More than once, Sonja found her buttocks up against his crotch area, feeling what was obviously his penis growing hard. She could smell the aftershave on his face, a scent often mixed with the sweat of both of their bodies on the warmer days. His hands seemed to linger just a bit longer than necessary.

Several times, she protested, “Juan, you need to spend more time with the others.”

“No, Miss Warner, you’re the newest and youngest on the team,” he answered. “You need the instruction.”

He was right, of course. Sonja was becoming enthralled with the game; she loved the concentration it took, the green of the courses and the thrill of making a solid direct hit. She welcomed the instruction and she soon realized she loved being caressed by the young golf pro. She puzzled why these two men, Juan and Brick, were so enamored with her when both of them knew she was still male. Sonja made a vow to talk to Tess about it; her sister was always wise in the ways of men, it seemed, even though Tess was currently without a boyfriend and always had issues with the men she dated.

*****
A reception was planned for the late afternoon, at which time trophies were to be awarded. After the women ended their play, they showered and changed into street wear for the event. While many of the women merely changed into clean shorts and golf shirts, Sonja chose to wear a pretty yellow and teal sundress with thick straps over the shoulders, exposing her arms and shoulders; the skirt puffed out and ended in mid-thigh. She wore beige sandals, but no stockings.

“Darling, you look fresh as a daisy,” Heather commented as the two left the locker room. “You shame us by how pretty you look.”

“I just felt like dressing like this, Heather. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. If you got it, flaunt it,” she said with a twinkle.

“I didn’t do it for that reason,” Sonja protested.

“Well, you’re certainly a tempting morsel,” the older woman said.

Entering the reception, Sonja realized she might have overdressed for the occasion, being one of the few women who were wearing dresses. As might be expected, both Brick Walters and Juan Garcia commented how lovely she looked. “You’re easily the prettiest girl here today,” the club president said, putting his arm about her in a seeming fatherly fashion.

“Thank you, sir, but there are a lot of pretty women here, sir,” Sonja said, emphasizing the word “women” to signify the need to recognize the respect the club president should show for the gender.

She doubted the clueless Brick Walters even understood how crude and rude he was. She realized that she had to somehow diplomatically reject this man whose desires obviously were not respectful to her or any other woman.

“What a pig,” the words came from Belinda, the young African-American woman from the Oakview Club.

“I know, but what can I do?” Sonja said.

“Just what you did, Sonja. You let him know you weren’t pleased with how he treated women and that you’re an independent woman, too. I don’t think he’ll monkey with you.”

Sonja looked at the other woman, who was just a couple of years older. Sonja was comforted that Belinda also wore a dress, a purple cocktail dress which was highlighted with a white lace trim. It created an image of a mature, strong woman. Sonja thought Belinda was truly lovely and classy and that if any woman in the room could be classified as the “prettiest” it would have to be Belinda.

*****
The Riverside Club won the tournament trophy for being the team with the lowest aggregate score; all four trooped up to the stage and had their picture taken with Brick Walters; Heather, who shot an astounding 73 got the trophy for having the lowest score of the day.

“And now for several other awards,” Walters boomed into the microphone.

“For the closest to the pin on Hole No. 17, the award goes to Wanda Poynter of the Scenic View Club.”

A chunky, fortyish woman with a jovial smile mounted the stage to receive her trophy. She was all smiles, and Walters, diplomatically staying at arm’s length from the plain-looking woman, handed her the award.

“For the fewest putts in 18 holes, the award goes to Sonja Warner of Riverside. This pretty young woman had only 26 putts. Can you imagine that? You need to teach me how to putt, girl,” he said smiling.

Sonja was shocked. She hated being in the limelight and she sat still in her chair.

“Get up and go, Sonja,” Tess urged.

“Don’t be shy girl,” boomed Brick for the podium.

Her mind was in a fog as she mounted the small stage to receive the trophy (a clear plastic encased silver image of a female golfer in the midst of her swing) from Brick Walters.

“And she’s not only a great girl with a putter, she’s incredibly beautiful, isn’t she folks?” Walters said into the microphone. The audience cheered lustily.

Sonja was speechless and stopped more than an arms length away from Walters, who beckoned her to move closer. “Come young lady, I won’t bite,” he whispered, reaching out to bring her close.

She moved next to him and he put an arm about her as the two held the trophy, while several persons, including Tess, moved up to take pictures. Sonja composed herself enough to smile, and Brick Walters muttered, “Now that’s more like it, dear.”

She knew she had to say a few words, as the previous award winners had done. She moved to the microphone, and began in a soft, uneven voice, “Thank you to the club’s sponsors and to Mr. Walters for this award . . .”

“Louder, louder,” several voices yelled.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Sonja said, hoping that in speaking more loudly she wouldn’t betray her boyish sounds. In order to disguise her male attributes, she had expressly developed a soft, breathy voice that bordered on being sexy.

“I was thanking the clubs who sponsored this tournament for the workers, the women workers,” she began, her voice gaining more strength. “Thank you Mr. Walters for presenting the award.

“I’d like to thank Juan Garcia, our team coach, and my teammates, especially my older sister, Tess, who first got me on the golf course and taught me the fundamentals of the game. Too bad I could never learn to drive a ball as far as her, but I guess a good putt is worth as much as a 250 yard drive.”

“You bet it is, Sonja,” a voice came from the audience. Sonja recognized it as Belinda’s.

“And thanks to Belinda and Kathy – our opponents from the Oakview Club – for being great golfing companions today. We had fun. Finally, I’d like to comment that it’s great the country clubs offer this day for their female employees. Too often the ladies who perform the kitchen chores and set the tables and clean the locker rooms are treated as chattel. And, far too often, I’ve seen how some of us have been looked upon as sex objects. We are not sex objects. We are human beings and wish to be treated as such. And . . .”

“Thank you, Miss Warner,” Walters edged her away from the podium. “It’s time we moved on.”

Sonja heard nothing as she was pushed rudely aside by the large older man; she turned to step off the stage and finally there was a scattering of applause that quickly gathered volume, accompanied by a few whistles. The whistles, she knew, came from her sister Tess who had learned how to let out lusty tones through her teeth, a most unladylike action. Sonja moved back through the tables, keeping her eyes forward; yet, she could see some of the older men in the audience sitting with stony expressions while their female companions applauded.

“I could see that old guy had his eyes on you,” Tess said as Sonja sat down. “I guess you told him off.”

“I hope that doesn’t get both of us fired, Tessie,” Sonja said.

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” Tess said, kissing her sister on the cheek.

When the affair ended, Juan Garcia said a curt “goodbye” to the four girls on the team and left hurriedly. Brick Walters also left the room hurriedly, clearly avoiding the girls from the Riverside golf team. Sonja hardly noticed the quick withdrawal of the two men as other women golfers surrounded her almost immediately. Belinda was one of the first on the scene; she rushed up to hug Sonja, “Oh darling, you were magnificent.”

“I’m quickly learning what girls have to live with,” Sonja said.

“Especially a girl like me,” Belinda said. “So many guys think all us black girls are good for is as an easy lay, particularly these country club creeps.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Heather said to Sonja. “I saw how Walters was trying to touch you up there on stage. The old letch.”

“Yeah, did you see how red he got when Sonja talked?” Maria said.

The girls all giggled.

“No doubt about it, dear sister. You’re all girl.” Tess smiled and hugged Sonja.