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Subject: storiestg from cindy CAMP4.TXT(1/1) 32555 bytes
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Subject: X-Mas Repost TG: The TV Summer Camp by Chrissie LaFemme (04/10)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 22 Dec 1996 22:18:34 GMT
Message-ID: <59kc3q$1v6@nienor.in-berlin.de>
Hi.
When I remember correctly Celeste wanted some stories for X-Mas. I'm
not sure if she like those stories, but I muse that there are some
people out there who might like them as a kind of x-mas present(s).
I know the title sounds confusing, but one part of this story do
deal with christmas.
As ever I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.
If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.
Enjoy the story.
Ciao
Nostrumo
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
4 _The_TV_Summer_Camp________________________________by_Chrissie_LaFemme____
"OK, we'll go. I'd enjoy a break from cooking," her mother decided.
"I'll go and change my skirt."
"What about me? I don't want to go!" Kenny objected petulantly.
"What about you?" was their mother's quick challenge.
"Uh-uh? I can't go dressed like this ... people would laugh at me,"
Kenny gulped.
"You have made me curious, Kenny, why would they laugh at you?" she
queried.
"Because they'd know that I'm really a boy," he countered.
"Who would know?"
"People ... people would know ... " Kenny faltered.
"Name someone around here who knows you as a boy," his mother
challenged him.
"There's Al at the gas station," Kenny replied after a while.
"Al? You mean Al who is so short-sighted he can't see further than his
nose?" scoffed his mother.
"There's others ... I just can't think of their names right now ..."
Kenny replied in a small voice.
There was a silence. Sharon saw her mother fix Kenny with a withering
look.
"Kenny, the facts of life are that no one around here knows you. You
live fifteen miles away from the nearest town. You have little or no
contact with the locals. You certainly have no contact with boys of
your own age group. In addition, your father will not be back from
abroad for another three months. There is only Sharon and I. We have
both decided that it would be better for your personal development to
put you in touch with the feminine side of your personality," she said.
Kenny digested this in silence.
"You're probably worried about your personal appearance -- prompted, no
doubt, by some misplaced masculine pride," their mother continued.
"You should have no fear on that score. Sharon and I are not going to
risk having you uncovered at this stage of your development. Later on
I promise you it won't be an issue because with our help you will pass
so easily as a girl. We will go for a drive in a few minutes as Sharon
has suggested. I give you a scarf to wear over your hair and Sharon
will lend you a pair of her sun-glasses."
Sharon imagined that Kenny would have liked to have buried his face in
his hands but he had been warned not to move them. Kenny knew by now
not to disobey Mother -- he had just spent two hours locked in his
bedroom for taking off his sandals after their walk without her
permission.
"Do I need to put on more make-up, Mother?" Sharon prompted teasingly.
Mrs. Richards laughed.
"Lipstick would be a nice touch, Sharon," she smiled. "Nothing too
strong. Pink ... ?"
Sharon chuckled as she screwed the nail varnish brush back in its
bottle. She took a lipstick from her cosmetics case and unscrewed the
top.
"Come on, Kenny, pout your lips like this. Let's make them as pink as
I've painted your nails," she cooed.
____________________________________
That night Sharon went over the evening's events in her mind as she lay
in bed.
The drive in the car to Sky Road had been a success beyond either her
or her mother's wildest dreams.
For most of the journey to the beauty spot Kenny had scrunched down in
the back seat trying to avoid being seen. He had been petrified
whenever they stopped at traffic lights (he would immediately bend down
to tie an imaginary shoe lace). She and her mother had laughingly
pointed out that his odd behavior was more likely to attract attention
than if he just sat normally.
Gradually he had become to realize that nobody was taking notice of him
-- he was just another young girl out for a drive with her mother and
older sister along a scenic route. He had even relaxed slightly as
they ate their seafood take-away in a quiet lay-by.
They had been careful though to ensure that his disguise was perfect at
all times. Sharon had refreshed his make-up when they had finished
eating. When she had finished she had shown Kenny his reflection in
her compact mirror. She noted that the image he saw seemed to calm his
anxiety.
She and her mother had chatted as they sat watching the evening sun go
down. At first it was just aimless chatter and then they began to talk
about clothes with the aim of drawing Kenny into their conversation.
For a while it seemed their strategy wasn't going to work. Then during
a lull in the conversation Kenny had made an observation (she couldn't
recall his exact words) of how naked he felt. He hadn't elaborated and
Sharon at the time was surprized their mother hadn't pursued it. She
had just winked conspiratorially at Sharon. They both knew he was
talking about his feminine clothes.
Kenny had almost choked when their mother then suggested a stroll. But
faced with a choice of staying in the car by himself or accompanying
them he had little hesitation in deciding to go with them. Sharon
smiled at the memory of her mother's clever ploy -- it had the effect
of accentuating her femininely-clad brother's sense of vulnerability.
Kenny and their mother had walked ahead while Sharon deliberately
trailed behind them. She could hear her mother giving tips to Kenny on
how to appear lady-like. This had been the aim of their plan: to make
Kenny realize how much he needed them to avoid being detected as a boy
in girls' clothes. Once Kenny became dependent on them to hide his
masculine identity his resistance to what they were doing to him would
melt away. Then they would entice him further and further into a
feminine role until it became second nature to him.
Later that evening when Kenny had been put to bed in his ultra feminine
night-dress she and her mother had selected his clothes (a flowery
sun-dress) for the following day. Discussing the day's events, they
both had been thrilled with Kenny's progress and had decided to start
him on a skin-care routine the next day (they would emphasize how
important it was for his disguise ... ).
Smiling happily to herself, Sharon visualized sitting Kenny in front of
her vanity unit and instructing him in the womanly art of make-up as
she drifted into a deep and contented sleep.
____________________________________
Part Three: Aunt Connie suggests a finishing school for Kenny...
Connie Devereau followed the coast road out of Velvetstown; she knew
there was only another fifteen miles to go before she reached her
younger sister's summer house.
She had been travelling for over five hours but unlike previous
occasions she had hardly noticed the time passing. She had been
planning a visit for the past two weeks and a gap in her busy schedule
had allowed her to make the trip.
The car was full of luggage; every last space was filled with cases or
bags. She had collected items from her wide range of friends and
particularly an old friend who worked in the local university.
The road narrowed considerably as it wound its way along by the sea.
Despite her natural caution she was tempted to push harder on the pedal
to go faster; she was pent-up with excitement and expectation of what
she was to see.
After a while she could see her sister's house in the distance. It was
the first and only dwelling since she had left Velvetstown.
With mounting excitement she made her way up the drive and parked in
front of the house. Her sister Sarah came down the steps to greet her.
"Oh Connie, it's so good to see you again," her sister exclaimed,
giving her an affectionate hug.
"You too, Sarah," Connie smiled, kissing her on the cheeks.
"Did you have a good journey?" her sister asked.
"It's never been shorter. That's the honest truth, Sarah -- I've been
dying to come up here ever since you told me about Kenny," Connie
replied.
Her sister beamed.
"I'm glad you could come, Connie. You are in for a treat. Sharon and
I have been 'coaching' Kenny for the last two weeks and you'll be
amazed with his transformation," she said.
"Speaking of Kenny and Sharon, where are they?" Connie asked.
"They're up in Sharon's room. Sharon has been getting him ready for
you since early morning!" her sister replied with a smile. "Come on,
let's go inside! We can come back for your luggage in a while. My
goodness, Connie! You've bought a mountain of stuff with you!"
"It's not all for me but I'll tell you about it later," Connie said as
she followed her sister inside.
"Sharon! Kenny! Aunt Connie is here!" her sister called up the
stairways.
Connie heard her niece shout: "Coming, Mother!"
"Let's go into the drawing-room and await them there," her sister
suggested.
The two women made themselves comfortable and shortly they heard steps
on the stairs.
"Brace yourself for a real surprize," her sister whispered gleefully.
Connie felt her mouth dropping when sister's children made their
entrance.
"Told you!" her sister said triumphantly.
"Oh my! Kenny! ... is that really you ... ?" Connie breathed.
"This is the 'new' Kenny, Aunt Connie," corrected Sharon, the eldest of
her sister's two children. Taking her brother by the arm, she ushered
him to the middle of the room. "Isn't he just adorable?"
"I think he's ... I mean ... !" Connie found herself floundering for
words. She couldn't take her eyes off her nephew.
Sharon and her mother exchanged amused looks.
"The new Kenny is wearing a navy pinafore dress worn over a white
blouse," intoned Sharon in a mock fashion parade voice-over, "with
matching high heeled navy sandals and sheer nylon tights!"
Her mother laughed giddily; Connie was still in a state of disbelief.
"Sarah! I can't believe what I'm seeing!" she said, shaking her head
in disbelief. "Do a twirl, Kenny, while I take a good look at you!"
The boy, red-faced with embarrassment and humiliation, shuffled in a
circle. Connie noticed a redness around his eyes that even his
immaculate make-up was unable to mask. She suspected that the ordeal
of knowing he was going to be paraded in girls' clothes in front of
another woman -- even a member of the family -- had been too much for
him.
"Kenny, I think you look fabulous! I really do! You look even better
than your mother described on the phone," she informed the
cross-dressed boy. She patted the seat on the sofa beside her. "Sit
down, darling, and tell Aunt Connie about the new Kenny."
The boy sat down beside her. As he did Sharon made a warning noise in
her throat. The boy looked up at his sister and with a sigh stood up
again. Then he ran his hand over his dress at back as he sat down
again.
"Good, Kenny, very lady-like!" Sharon laughed, sitting down beside her
mother. "You won't crease your dress that way!"
"Aunt Connie, tell them that I'm a boy!" Kenny suddenly blurted out.
The women laughed.
"Of course you're a boy, Kenny --" Connie began with a smile,
recovering her composure.
"But then I shouldn't be made to wear girls' clothes," he interrupted.
"I'm not a girl. I don't have breasts. I don't have a vagina. I
don't have periods. I don't ..."
"I know all of that, Kenny," Connie said, cutting him short. "But from
what your mother has told me there has been a very positive change in
your behavior. Gone is the unruly, self-centered behavior that we
associated with you. Your mother tells me that this has been replaced
by a more obedient, personable demeanor. I am delighted with this
transformation and I know from my job that this kind of change is the
hardest to achieve."
"But I don't have to be dressed up like this to be good," her nephew
protested.
"Personally, I think your mother made a very wise decision two weeks
ago, Kenny," Connie pointedly replied. "However distasteful it might
be for you -- and I suspect you will even come to enjoy it -- learning
to live as a girl for a few months could be the best thing that ever
happened to you!"
"But why, Aunt Connie? I've promised a million times to be on my best
behavior for the rest of the summer!" Kenny cried in exasperation.
"Your promises are never enough, Kenny!" Connie replied sharply. "How
many times have you made promises in the past? I know only too well
even from the brief visits you have made to me that your promises never
last more than a few hours."
Kenny was about to protest again but fell silent realizing that he
pursuing a lost cause.
"You're probably embarrassed because you think I'll laugh at you
wearing girls' clothes," Connie continued. "But I haven't laughed at
you -- and I won't. I think you look fabulous, Kenny: the way you
look, the way you move. You still have some way to go but that's why I
am here: to help you develop your confidence in your new persona."
"I don't want a new persona or whatever it is you want," Kenny muttered
defiantly.
Connie exchanged knowing glances with her sister and niece.
"All right, Kenny, there's a hard way and an easy way. We don't mind
which option you take," she said icily. "I can promise you the final
outcome will be the same."
____________________________________
A few hours later Connie was showing her sister the clothes she had
brought with her.
"Connie, are they really necessary?" her sister asked.
"I believe so," Connie answered. "It could be all too easy for Kenny
to forget that he's wearing a dress and to slip back into old habits."
"Is that really possible, Connie?" her sister queried. "I mean, a
dress on a boy is so totally different!"
"Yes, I know, Sarah," Connie responded. "But today's dresses are so
light that after a few weeks that Kenny could easily forget he's
wearing one. Remember, he's been wearing dresses for what -- two weeks
now? -- and his body language is still a give-away."
"We've tried everything, Connie, but nothing has worked for very long.
His posture and gait are still frustratingly masculine," her sister
admitted. "But you think what you've brought with you will change
that?"
Connie nodded.
"These outfits will remind him every waking minute that he's wearing a
dress," she replied with conviction. "Every movement, every gesture he
makes -- walking, sitting down, standing up, climbing stairs -- will
remind him of what he's wearing and, better still, compel him to change
habits of a lifetime!"
"It would be marvellous if it works but I'm afraid I'm not totally
convinced," her sister confessed. "Give me an example."
"OK. Did you ever wonder why women gesticulate so much with their hands
compared to men?" Connie asked. "Historians say it was because the
heavy sleeves of their dresses that women wore centuries ago only
allowed free movement at the wrist!"
"OK! OK! You've convinced me!" her sister laughed. "So tomorrow we
turn back the fashion clock for Kenny!"
____________________________________
It took Connie, her sister and her niece two hours to dress Kenny the
next morning. The outfit had come with plenty of instructions -- which
was just as well since they had no experience of wearing anything
similar. It was such an exquisitely feminine outfit that they had
secretly wished they were trying it themselves (Connie's sister later
said it reminded her of her wedding day). Each layer of the outfit was
greeted with exclamations of delight and ecstasy.
Kenny had endured the ordeal in humiliated silence. He had struggled
to escape at the beginning but the three of them had easily kept him
under control. At one stage, Connie had threatened to tie his hands to
the metal clothes rail in his closet if he didn't keep still while they
were lacing his corset.
"Look at me! I'm going to sweat like a pig in this heat," he moaned
when they were nearly finished.
"Sweat?" Connie exclaimed in mock horror to the giggles of her sister
and niece. "Ladies don't perspire, Kenny, they glow!"
Tying the sash of his dress in a bow at the back, she added: "In any
case, we'll give you a parasol to keep the sun off. Sharon, could you
fix his hair while I have a word with your mother."
In a whispered aside to her sister she said: "Can you imagine him
walking at his normal pace in that dress?"
"The more I see of him in it the more I warm to your idea," her sister
chuckled. "You can't even see his shoes! And that train must be at
least four feet long!"
"The train? It's actually closer to five," Connie remarked. "The
spread of the rest of the dress is about three feet all round. We
could've made an even wider spread if we'd used a crinoline. I figured
by just using stiffened petticoats to fill out the skirt we could
achieve so much more."
"It'll be much more awkward for Kenny to walk in," replied her sister.
"Yes, and Kenny will also have the constant sensation of petticoats
brushing against his legs," Connie pointed out.
"I counted fifteen layers of underskirts," her sister said with a
smile. "He'll certainly feel the weight of them too!"
"There's a lot of other nice touches about his outfit, Sarah," Connie
said. "For a start, it's got no pockets -- it will be interesting to
see what Kenny does with his hands! Secondly, it's designed to flatter
the figure and, particularly in Kenny's case, his nipped-in waist --"
"You certainly know how to lace a corset, Connie!" her sister
interjected. "I thought Kenny would pass out when you put your knee
into his back!"
Connie acknowledged her sister's remarks with a smile. "Maybe it will
make him more calorie-conscious!" she joked.
Then she turned to her hapless nephew. "Kenny! Walk over here
please," she called. Throughout the morning it was apparent to
everybody in the room that she had taken charge.
Kenny looked at her in bewilderment.
"How am I supposed to walk -- let alone move -- in this?" he wailed.
"Women have done it, Kenny, and so can you if you learn a couple of
techniques," Connie replied crisply. "The most important is to take
hold of your skirt -- in both hands -- and lift the hem at the front of
your dress off the ground."
"But I can't!" the boy protested. "I'm wearing so many skirts!"
"You've only got one skirt, Kenny," Connie corrected him. "That's the
one on top; the rest are your petticoats."
The sight of Kenny frantically clutching his skirt and the voluminous
underskirts underneath was enough to send the three women into
paroxysms of laughter.
"Come on, Kenny," chortled Connie. "You can do better than that!"
____________________________________
Two weekends later Connie made a note of the improvements she had
observed in Kenny:
[+] Gait and posture
Kenny now walks at a slower pace. The sheer number and size of
his petticoats and the extra long train of his dress have seen to
that!
Kenny has adopted a very feminine way of sitting down and standing
up.
[+] Dress consciousness
He has become very conscious of the confines of his dress. It
will soon be an automatic reaction to raise the hem of his skirts
at front to walk.
He is more conscious of wearing a dress; before when he was
dressed up in Sharon's clothes, if someone spotted that he was a
boy, he could say that he was messing in his sister's clothes and
that it was just a joke. He knows now he that no one would
swallow that excuse -- no boy would subject himself to wearing
such an elaborate dress.
His heavy skirt and petticoats tire him considerably so he is more
content to stay in one place.
[+] Mannerisms
He makes greater use of his hands to express himself (the padding
of the sleeves of his dress with its extra heavy material has seen
to that!).
[+] Appearance consciousness
Because getting dressed takes so long and is so humiliating to him
Kenny is more conscious of the need to avoid getting his dress wet
or dirty.
Since he is effectively imprisoned in his dress he has become more
interested in the appearance and color of his clothes. He takes a
greater interest in the selection of his clothes for the following
day.
Kenny repeatedly expresses his wish to resume wearing modern
dresses and skirts though he knows we will not be allowing him to
wear ordinary clothes for some time!
[+] Figure control
The tightness of his corset serves as a constant reminder to keep
his food consumption in check!
[+] Feminine activities
He is more willing to take up sedate activities that do not
require him to move e.g. embroidery, reading.
[+] Socialization
Since he is less mobile he yearns for company and is participating
more in the conversation at meal-times.
[+] Feminine perspective
Kenny has become more conscious of his vulnerability to attack by
strangers.
He has become an avid reader of the fashion glossies and is more
aware of the importance of clothes to women.
[+] Discipline
He has become easier to control (our threat to add extra layers of
petticoats under his dress has proved very effective!).
Kenny has finally recognized the futility of even thinking about
trying to escape!
____________________________________
It was the end of Kenny's third week of wearing what Sharon termed his
"Gone with the Wind" dresses. Connie and her sister were sipping iced
tea while they watched Sharon walk her crossed-dressed brother across
the lawn.
"Doesn't he look so cute!" his mother chortled. "So demure, so
lady-like -- look at the way he's holding onto Sharon's arm!"
Connie smiled.
"I heard him pleading with Sharon this morning not to put on his
corset. He said it was hurting him!" her sister continued.
"What did Sharon say?" Connie asked.
"She said: 'Frankly, my dear, I don't care a damn'!" her sister
replied with a laugh.
"I hope she laced him tighter!" Connie chuckled. "And -- knowing
Sharon -- I am sure she did!"
Her sister nodded.
"She did. Sharon loves reminding him that now he's dressed as a girl
he has to keep his figure in control!" she grinned.
"I didn't think Sharon would be interested in keeping Kenny in girl's
clothes for so long," Connie commented.
"It surprized me too," her sister admitted. "But then she's always
wanted a sister and nothing gives her greater pleasure than having a
'younger sister' that she can boss around!"
"You know, Sarah, I've heard of a summer school where they have boys
like Kenny," Connie said.
"I don't believe you, Connie!" her sister exclaimed in amazement.
"No, it's true. This school teaches boys to behave like proper young
ladies," Connie replied.
"I don't believe you!" her sister repeated. "Connie, you're pulling my
leg!"
"No, I'm not," Connie insisted. "You've kept Kenny in a dress for over
five weeks now and you've seen the benefits for yourself!"
"Well, he has become easier to control ..." Sarah said thoughtfully.
"Just think, Sara, what he'd be like after an intensive summer camp,
Sarah!" Connie quickly resumed. "Suppose your son is also trained to
do all the things that you've expect Sharon to do? Imagine the
scenario where all you'd have to do was to point at a pile of clothes
and he'd have them perfectly ironed without a murmur of protest!"
"Really, Connie! That's too wild --" her sister started to say.
"No, it's not wild!" Connie interjected. "Imagine too a Kenny who has
been taught to look after and appreciate pretty clothes! Imagine a
Kenny where disaster is a ladder in his panty-hose!"
"Connie! This is just a fantasy: this school doesn't exist!" her
sister exclaimed incredulously.
Connie solemnly shook her head.
"It does exist," her sister said slowly.
Connie nodded her head.
Her sister sucked in her breath. "So there is such a summer camp," she
said quietly. "What's it called?"
Connie took a card out of her purse and handed it to her.
"Thelma Vitner's Summer Camp," she read aloud.
Connie laughed: "Guess what the full name is?"
Her sister shook her head.
"Thelma Vitner's Summer Camp for Sissies!"
____________________________________
The story of Gene Seymour
The boy sitting across the desk from Thelma Vitner looked frightened
and miserable.
She took a number of photographs from a large pink envelope and passed
them to him one by one. With trembling hands the boy scrutinized each
photograph carefully. She had already sent him a copy of one of the
photographs in the letter 'inviting' him to her house.
"Where ... where did you get these?" the boy asked, his voice choking
with emotion.
Thelma looked at him steadily.
"I'll ask the questions around here," she said sharply.
She switched on the tape-recorder and pointed the microphone in his
direction.
"Tell me about the 'boy' I see in the photographs," she sneered.
____________________________________
Gene Seymour's story started out in a trickle and then ended in a
torrent.
Thelma already knew much of his background. He was the second son of
Bobby and Alice Seymour who lived in a quiet middle-income
neighborhood. His father ran a small business and while his mother had
worked for a time after her marriage she now was a full-time housewife.
His elder brother Bill was talented footballer and also shared his
father's love of outdoor pursuits. Gene, on the other hand, had a
slight frame and enjoyed non-contact sports such as swimming and
tennis. His only claim to fame in sport, however, was that he was
Bill's younger brother.
>From what she gleaned Thelma surmized that after Gene's birth his
mother had been unable to have any more children.
He went to the local high school and Thelma made a mental note of his
interest in art and drama.
His family life appeared normal on the surface though Thelma was
interested that his mother, not his father, continually picked on him.
She harped on his appearance, criticized him for never volunteering to
help her with household chores, disapproved of his friends, etc. Bill,
by contrast, was doted on by both parents.
It was clear to Thelma that Gene's mother was an unhappy and frustrated
woman.
Prompted by Thelma's questioning Gene tried to explain why he wore
women's clothes. He related how his mother and grandmother had once
dressed him as a girl for a Halloween party. They had gone to great
lengths to disguize him completely as a girl -- he remembered trying to
resist their efforts to make him wear lipstick.
His disguise had been so successful, however, that no one at the party
recognized him.
This was the one and only incident where he remembered his mother
dressing him in feminine clothing. From other incidents Gene related
Thelma suspected that, on occasion, his mother may have sub-consciously
wished that he was a girl.
Thelma was intrigued that Gene's mother often drew a link between him,
her mother and herself; for example, she regularly pointed they had the
same slight build (his brother Bill had a stocky build like his
father). Thelma could understand how this constant association with
his mother and maternal grandmother at times undermined the boy's sense
of masculine identity.
There were other clues: in the division of household chores Bill got
to help his father with the outdoor or traditional 'male' tasks, while
his mother reserved Gene for indoor and, by implication, 'female'
chores.
Though she was not an expert Thelma believed that by dressing up the
boy was trying to be the daughter his mother never had. Gene believed
that by wearing the clothes he imagined his mother wanted him to wear,
she would come to appreciate him. But Gene was consumed by guilt
because boys were not supposed to wear girls' clothes.
Thelma suspected that his mother was equally constrained by this social
convention and she also might have experienced guilt in even secretly
wishing that her son was a girl. She believed Alice Seymour may also
have feared causing homosexual tendencies in her son. From what she
had heard Thelma didn't think Gene was gay.
Gene was visibly embarrassed when he came to explain the photographs
Thelma had given to him at the beginning of their meeting: the sharp,
crystal-clear photos of him dressed in his mother's clothes. He
admitted to Thelma an overwhelming compulsion to wear his mother's
clothes which he couldn't control. He dressed in her clothes whenever
he had the house to himself which wasn't often.
The most damning photographs Thelma kept until last: they showed Gene,
wearing nothing apart from his mother's black silk slip, masturbating
on his bed.
Thelma used two sides of the 90 minute tape and at the end of the
second side she switched off the recorder.
"I'm going downstairs to prepare a statement which I want you to sign,"
she told him.
____________________________________
Gene signed the confession she had prepared admitting to wearing female
clothing. She told him that she had made extra copies of the
photographs and had deposited them with her bank and lawyer; if
anything happened to her they would be opened. She knew -- and he knew
-- that if the photographs were ever made public in the conservative,
close-knit community where they lived he and his family would be
ruined.
She spoke to him for ten minutes and ended by telling him that she
would contact him later.
It was a very chastened boy who left her house nearly two hours after
he had entered it.
____________________________________
Thelma had timed her arrival perfectly. She was chatting to Alice
Seymour when Gene arrived home from school.
When he saw Thelma his face turned white.
"Gene? Come in here and say hello to Mrs. Vitner," his mother called.
Alice Seymour had her back to the door and didn't realize that Gene
could see Thelma. He tried to mouth something to her but she just
smiled serenely back at him.
"Gene! Don't be shy! Come in and say hello!" his mother repeated
sharply.
Gene shuffled into the room.
"Hello," he said in a small voice.
"Mrs. Vitner and I have just been talking about you," his mother
began. "Mrs. Vitner is thinking of setting up a special summer
project to help young people develop skills to get good jobs and to be
able to look after themselves when they do. She's going to pilot it
first and your school recommended you!"
"Oh yes?" Gene replied in a distant, disinterested voice.
"I've agreed with Mrs. Vitner that you will take part in the pilot.
That means you'll be with her for most weekends during school term and
then all of the summer holidays," Alice Seymour continued.
"Does that mean I won't be going on summer camp with Bill?" Gene asked
in dismay.
"Yes, it does, Gene. Anyway, Bill is not going to summer camp after
all: he's going to work on Uncle Joe's farm this summer," his mother
replied. "Your father'll be out of town a lot as well and he'd prefer
if you were around."
"Dad's going away this summer?" Gene asked in a puzzled voice.