We had a ripper house situated on a large block. It was quite an old place on a single level, but it had been remodelled and greatly extended out the back - almost doubled in size. My bedroom was at the back with its own external access. I liked that and led Lester in that way.
I sat him down on my dressing table stool and looked him over. Physically, he was a bit smaller than I was. He had quite long hair but well kept. In fact, Lester always presented as neat and tidy - yeah, sweet, innocent Lester - the little shit.
"Lester, let me spell it out for you. You have a simple choice: you can do exactly what I tell you, or you can be exposed as a cheat and your old man can shoot you off to Brickford."
He let out a gasp. "Kara, I'm sorry. It was a mistake. Please . . ."
"Which one do you choose, Lester?"
"Oh, Kara, please don't tell my father. I'll try to make it up to you . . ."
"Which one do you choose, Lester?" I repeated.
"Not Brickford, please Kara . . . I'll . . . I'll do what you want."
"Hmmm," I studied him doubtfully. "Understand this, Lester, you do what I say without any protest or resistance, because if you give me any bother at all, then I will expose you."
"Okay . . . okay. Er, what do you want?" He was looking at me wondering what I was up to.
"Two things to start with. Firstly, do not get another haircut until I tell you."
He nodded uncertainly.
"Secondly, ring and make an appointment at a beauty salon for after school tomorrow to get your ears pierced."
"What . . . I . . ."
I flared my nostrils at him.
"Er, yeah, okay, okay."
Lester was very quiet at school the next day, but come Wednesday morning, I saw that he had small gold studs in his ears. I suppressed my smirk of satisfaction, instead, when I got the chance I whispered to him, "My place, after school today."
I sat him down on my stool again and once more studied him. I had made a decision as to the form of retribution I would impose on Lester. If I got him sent to Brickford, then I would not directly see and be able to enjoy the fruits of my vengeance. Instead, I was going to turn him into a sissy and then savour his humiliation and shame.
And I wasn't going to rush. No, slowly but surely I was going to bend him to my will and bring about the change. I was looking forward to the project with relish.
YOU ARE READING
A Lesson for Lester . . . and Me
Short StoryThis is a different take on a boy-to-girl transition story. It is intended to be essentially humorous in a somewhat sardonic fashion, but there are lessons, and the psychology of the two central characters is also interesting.
