Finding Zoey - Part 3

Finding Zoey – Part 3

By Katherine Day
(Copyright 2019)
(A sequel to a 2018 story about a boy who finds joy in being a pretty girl and the twists and turns that feature his new adventure.)


Knowing their mother might soon be calling home to check on them, Zoey and Tonya said good-bye to the O’Connor household to run home.  Before they could get out the door, Brett called after them: “Maybe, I can see you tomorrow then, Zoey.  Can I call you?  Or come over?” 
The boy’s voice had an urgency to it that required a response.  Zoey paused at the door, wondering how to answer. 
“What d’ya say, Zoey?” he persisted. 
“Ok, just call us to see if we can,” she said, turning and running out of the house. 
She could hear Brett’s desperate voice as they charged out of the house. 
Having changed back into his boy clothes, Tommy Lundstrom tried to concentrate on his homework.  He had finished the exercise in his workbook for his seventh-grade English class and was beginning to work on his math homework, a subject he hated. He began to struggle with it, as his mind wandered to the problem of how he would get out of meeting up with Brett O’Connor, the neighborhood boy who had become smitten upon seeing a cute, comely girl by the name of Zoey.  Tommy, of course, was the fetching girl named Zoey. He knew Brett would be calling early the next morning to see if Zoey would be free to go ice-skating.  Somehow, he had to get out of ever seeing Brett again as Zoey. 
Finally, unable to focus on the mathematics problems that lay on the desk before him, Tommy got up from his desk and walked down the hall to his sister’s room.   
“Can’t we do away with Zoey somehow?” he asked Tonya, having burst into her room without knocking. 
His sister looked up from her desk, and angrily shouted at him, “I told you, you gotta knock, before you come in here.” 
“Tonya, I’m sorry but I’m so scared about what Brett will say when he finds out that Zoey is me and you got me into this!  What are we going to do?” 
Tonya turned to look at him.  She smiled mischievously.  “Zoey’s a good ice-skater, probably better than Brett.  It’ll be fun.” 
“But, he’ll find me out.  I know he will.” 
“So what?  He’s your friend.  I think he’ll like Zoey better than Tommy,” Tonya said. 
“Tonya,” he replied, in voice rising to a soprano high.  “Be serious.  How can he not know me? We’ve played together forever. Once, he realizes who Zoey is, Wow! He’ll get mad at me or he’ll laugh at me and he’ll tell all his friends on the football team and soon the whole school will know.” 
After finishing his tirade, Tommy burst into tears and ran from Tonya’s room and into his own room, jumping on the bed and curling up and his crying grew louder.  In a few minutes, he heard his bedroom door open, and he curled up tightly in a ball, knowing it was his sister.  She crossed over to the bed and lay next to him, wrapping her arms about him.  Soon, his sobbing subsided and he felt himself grow calm, as his sister hands gently caressed him. 
“I think you liked being Zoey,” Tonya said after his crying stopped. 
“You were really cute,” she said, hugging him tightly. 
“I guess.” 
“Maybe you’re really a girl inside, Zoey,” Tonya said.  “Maybe you should really be a girl.  I’ve heard about such boys liking to be girls.” 
“No, how could I be.  I pee standing up and girls don’t do that.” 
“Yeah, I guess,” she agreed. 
The two were silent for a while and soon Tonya released her hold on him and lifted herself off his bed.   
“Did you finish your homework, Tommy?” she asked, finally returning to use his boy’s name.  
“No, I still got my math to do.” 
“Better get to it,” she said. 
Just then, they were startled as they heard the back door open.  “Migod, mom’s home from work,” Tonya exclaimed.  “She’s early.” 
“And she’ll be up here quickly to check on us,” Tommy said, his voice in a panic. 
Before Tonya could leave his room, they heard their mother knocking on Tonya’s door, yelling, “You in there, Tonya?  I’m coming in.”  They heard her open the door and then an exasperated voice yell, “Tonya, where are you?” 
Soon Tommy’s door opened and their mother stood at the door.  “What’s going on here?” 
“Nothing,” Tonya said quickly.  “I was helping Tommy with his math.” 
Their mother looked at both children and then entered the room.  She hurried to Tommy, who was now sitting up on his bed, his face red and puffed from all the crying. 
“What’s wrong, honey?” she said, coming to Tommy’s side and looking him squarely in the face.  “You’ve been crying.  Has your sister been teasing you again?” 
“No,” he said, struggling to get his voice and then bursting into tears again. 
His mother took him in her arms and help him, letting him rest his head upon her shoulder.  He heard her begin to sniff. 
“What’s that I smell?  Is that perfume?  Have you been dressing up again, Tommy?” 
He didn’t answer and resumed crying, his sobs more intense. 
“Tonya, has he and did you help him?” she asked sternly. 
It was then, Tommy began to pour out the story about Zoey and Brett’s invitation to go ice-skating.     
“This is too much to fathom,” Emily Lundstrom said when her son had finished telling how he had dressed up, adopted the name of Zoey and went with Tonya to visit the O’Connor household. 
She turned on Tonya, accusing her of encouraging the boy in the cross-dressing escapade, but Tommy was quick to defend his sister.   
“It was all my fault, mom,” Tommy said.  “I snuck into your room and Tonya caught be at it and before I knew it Melissa came and saw me.  They thought I was pretty.” 
“That’s right, by friend Melissa, came over and saw him dressed up, too. He was such a cute girl, mother,” Tonya echoed. 
“Oh my God,” their mother exclaimed.  “And then you and Melissa took him over to see Brett? Where was your good sense? Both of you?”
“Yeah, mother, here, look on my phone.  I got a picture,” Tonya said, bringing a smart phone out of her jean pocket.  She monkeyed with it and a less than a minute showed their mother a picture she took while Tommy was fully dressed as Zoey. 
“Oh, Tommy,” was all their mother could say. 
Tommy stood by, fearing his mother’s reaction.  He could see she was shocked.  Suddenly he was sorry and felt he had become a disappointment to his mother.  He loved her so much; she had been the only one who seemed to appreciate him, even when he felt scorned by everyone else his age. 
“I’m sorry, mom,” he said finally. 
“Tommy, come here,” his mother beckoned. 
“You want to spank me?” Tommy asked. 
“No, dear.  Just let me hug you.” 
Tommy rushed into her arms and began soft sobbing as she held him with one arm, calling to Tonya to join them.  Soon the whole family was joined in a group hug.  After a few minutes, they broke up. 
“Zoey, I’d like to see you all dressed up,” Emily Lundstrom said.  Her tone was neutral, matter-of-fact.
“You do, mom?” 
“Yes, dear.  Do you like being a girl, dear?” 
Tommy didn’t know how to answer and his mother looked at him with a kind expression.  “That’s Ok, honey, if you like being a girl.” 
“He does, mother,” Tonya said. 
“I want to hear him say it, if he does.” 
“Yes, mother, I like . . . ah . . . er . . . being Zoey.” 
“Ok,” their mother said in a calm, warm voice.  “Well, you appear to be a sweet, lovely young lady, Zoey.  By the way, I love the name you chose.  It’s perfect for a cute girl.” 
“You like me as a girl, mother?” he asked, speaking shyly and with hesitation. 
“Zoey, dear, I loved you as Tommy and I know you could grow up to be a nice man, but if you feel you should really be a girl, well, then, I guess I’ll have to love Zoey,” she said.  Her voice was calm and soothing.  “Now let’s see how you look when you’re all prettied up, dear.  I’ll leave it up to you Tonya to make sure our little girl is all that she can be.” 
With that, their mother left the room. 
Twenty minutes later, Zoey Lundstrom walked down the stairs, carefully taking each step to maintain his balance on the short-heeled pumps while also trying to make his mannerisms dainty and feminine. 
From the bottom of the stairs, his mother smiled, watching her new daughter descend, looking stylish.   
Tommy suddenly felt confused.  He really was a boy, but now he felt he was a girl.  It dawned on him.  His mother had told him it was up to him to make his choice: continue into a man’s world or become soft and feminine and grow into a woman. 
“You’d really love me as Zoey, mother?” he asked, addressing his mother as if he were a girl.  
“You’re my child, dear, and you’ve always been a lovely child,” she said.  “But, this is so quick, so hard to understand. You’re my son, and now I see a lovely girl. I don’t know what to say, but I’d love you either way, especially if Zoey is as nice and kind as Tommy always was.” 
Tommy began to cry.  Yes, he could be Zoey.  Yet, he sensed a bit of hesitancy in her voice, like she was not totally pleased with his cross-dressing.
And then there was the other problem: What should Tommy do about his pending skating date with Brett? 
“Can Zoey wear one of my nightgowns, mommy,” Tonya asked her mother after they had been told to get themselves ready for bed. Their mother, still wearing her waitress uniform with its short beige skirt and low-cut purple top with the restaurant name, “Maurice’s” tastefully embroidered over the last breast, had poured herself a small glass of wine and was trying to relax after her long shift of work. They were in the kitchen.

Emily Lundstrom frowned at the request. “Why is that necessary, Tonya. Besides it’d be too tight on him.”

“Let her try it on anyway, mom,” Tonya said, continuing to use the female pronoun. “She’d look so cute in it.”

“Does he want to wear curlers in his hair too?” she asked sarcastically.

“Oh, mom!”

Their mother turned to Tommy who had been sitting quietly, afraid to say anything, since it had been he who had first raised the idea of wearing his sister’s gown that night. The mere thought of the silky feeling on his soft body excited him.

“It just seems that all of this is moving too fast for me,” their mother questioned.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Tommy said. “I don’t have to wear her nightie, besides I’m too big for it.”

Emily Lundstrom shook her head. “I don’t know what to do about this all?”

There was silence as the two children sat, looking at their mother. Finally, Tommy said, “Mom, I don’t know why I liked being Zoey. I’m sorry I’m not the boy you’d like to have.”

“Tommy, come over here and hug me,” Emily responded. “I love you as much as ever.”

Tommy hesitated for a moment, astonished at his mother’s warmth. He mumbled, “Really, you don’t care, mom?”

“Just come and give me a hug, darling,” she said, a welcoming smile beaming from her face.

The boy arose from the chair and surrendered himself into his mother’s arms, and she gently caressed him. “You’re a lovely young lady, my dear,” she said, releasing him from her grasp.

He was flush-faced as he returned to his chair, next to his sister Tonya. Their mother got up from the table and told the children to sit still. She went to the refrigerator and extracted a bottle of milk, placing it on the table along with two glasses.

“Let’s eat some of those caramel cookies you baked, Tommy,” she said, taking the cookie jar off the counter top and bringing it to the table.

“You’ll ruin your figure, Zoey,” his sister said.

“Now Tonya, no more teasing your brother . . . or . . . I guess . . . your sister.”

That night, Tommy slept as Zoey would. Instead of wearing his sister’s nightgown, he wore a baby doll top and fluffy panties that his mother found in her dresser. First, however, he was told to shower, using sweet-scented soap, before wearing the clothes.

He went quickly to sleep bathed in the sweet fragrance of girlhood.

His digital alarm read 3:18 when he awoke, feeling an extreme pain in his groin, realizing that he must relieve himself. Still in the misty glow of femininity, he slowly arose from his bed, put on his sister’s old fluffy slippers and padded out of the room to the bathroom across the hall. A night light provided a dim light to the bathroom, enough so that he could see himself in the bathroom mirror, an image of a teen girl’s soft body in a lovely baby doll nightgown. He smiled, deciding that he should continue his charade as a girl and sit down to urinate, just as he’d seen his sister do the few times he caught a glimpse of her in the bathroom.

It was in those moments on the commode that he finally realized what faced him the next day. His adventure into being Zoey now took a fearful turn: he’d have to face Brett, his best childhood friend, as a “cute girl,” not as Tommy. In their brief encounter the previous day, Brett had failed to detect that the girl that attracted him so much was actually a boy . . . and his onetime best friend.

Returning to his bed, Tommy never did get back to sleep, worrying about what would happen when Brett would learn the truth about Zoey.

(To be continued)

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