Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1302481-Jamie-and-Julene-1-Humble-Beginnings
by Luneth
Rated: 13+ · Serial · Family · #1302481
Pamela van Deffen hatches a plan to turn her rambunctious stepsons into stepdaughters!
         Jamie & Julene: Chapter 1: Humble Beginnings
         By Luneth
         "I cannot believe the two of you! How is this possible?! I couldn't have been gone for more than forty-five minutes!" Pamela van Deffen screamed at her stepsons. Joe and James fidgeted shamefully, casting apprehensive glances at the ruined vase and soiled carpet. "You two are just too rambunctious! There will be a punishment, oh ho! Just you wait! I'm going to take my time and think of the grandest, most exquisite, punishment, mark my words! This is the last straw!" And with that final outburst she turned on her heels and stormed off to her bedroom, sullen and angry.
         James and Joe van Deffen, aged 12 and 7, respectively, remained seated on the living room couch in nervous silence. The boys were both short for their ages, had dark brown hair, and were skinny to a near-worrisome some point. We're talking Mick Jagger skinny here. But the similarities ended with the physical. James was outspoken and brazen, and not afraid to voice his opinions whenever he deemed it necessary. Joe, on the other hand, was a born follower. He was shy in school and at home, and rarely spoke unless spoken to, except to his brother and a select few close friends. Together, the two formed a formidable duo, capable of terrorizing any mother anywhere. But now, the brothers just sat on the couch, looking at their feet, at wondering how long it would be before this whole incident had blown over.
                   In her bedroom, Pamela van Deffen kicked off her classy black heels and reclined on her queen-sized bed. She lived alone now, except for the kids, and as such was the sole breadwinner of the household. The office was stressful, her home was stressful, and this bedroom was the only place where she could find solace. She ran a finger through her auburn-tinged hair, musing to herself: "I love them as my own, but their just so... wild! If only dear look had had daughters instead of sons before he passed away!" And then it hit her. She was the sole guardian of Luke's children. They were hers now. She could do with them as she saw fit. And without even bothering to change out of her black executive pantsuit, she collected her purse, her car keys, and her checkbook, got into what used to be Luke's powder blue Trans-Am, but was now her powder blue Trans-Am, and set the wheels of her plan turning.

         "Oh, boys! Could you come here for a moment?" Pamela called from her bedroom. She stood wedged between shopping bags piled upon shopping bags. The labels alone from this menagerie would be enough to substitute for a mall catalog. There were bags from Sears, JC Penny's, Aeropostale, Hollister, and even Victoria's Secret. She smiled to herself as she thought about the contents of that bag.
         Sheepishly, the boys shuffled into the room, but their fears were instantly swayed by the huge, amicable grin that their stepmom wore.
         "Uh... what's all this, Pam?" James asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
         "Oh, just a few new clothes I picked up to celebrate the start of summer vacation. You both grow so quickly, you cost me a fortune!" This was simply banter, however, and all three of them knew it. Luke van Deffen had been quite a wealthy man, and Pamela had inherited nearly all of his fortune, in addition to holding a well-paying job as a member of the board at Wenkler, Lyle and Wenkler Law Firm. Joe and James had learned long ago that money was not an issue in this household. "James, I think I'd like to talk to you privately for a moment. Would you excuse us, Joe?"
         Joe could only comply and back out of the room. He heard the lock click on the door as it closed.
         “Now, I bought plenty of new clothes, so just browse around and take what you like! I know you’re used to wearing cargo shorts, but I thought you could try something different this time,” Pamela told a confused James. She pulled up the Victoria’s Secret bag and dumped its contents on the floor. “Pick out your favorites.”
         James had no idea who Victoria was, or what this business about her Secret was, but he did know that girl’s underwear was different from boy’s underwear. “Mom!” He objected, his face reddening. “I can’t wear this stuff! This is for girls!”
         “You can wear it, and you will!”
         “No way in hell!”
         “James! Now, I may not be your real mother, but I am your legal guardian. I could just as soon put you up for adoption! Now how would you like that, huh? Living in an orphanage, no friends, no future and of course, no inheritance!” Pamela concluded her angry tirade. She hadn’t meant to be so hard on the boy, but it felt good to release all the pent up stress she had.
         James’s eyes began to well with tears at the thought of an orphanage. Reluctantly, he pointed to what he thought was the most masculine piece in the collection, a pair of blue boyshorts.
         “Ah, excellent choice! Now, undress!”
         James hesitated, but his last rebellious hopes died with the look that his stepmother gave him. Wordlessly, he stripped down to his boxers, took the boyshorts from his stepmom, and went into the adjacent bathroom to change. After carefully closing the door, he took off his boxers, also blue, and stepped into the boyshorts. He gasped at the silky feel on his crotch and the soft caress of his bottom. He turned around to look at his newly-defined ass, and his cock stirred as the satin moved around it.
         “Is everything all right in there?” came Pamela’s voice from the door.
         “Uh… Yeah! Just one second!” he replied, hastily trying to hide his now full erection. After finding no success, he sheepishly opened the door, covering his hard-on with an embarrassed hand.
         Pamela was positively delighted. “Ooh! You look so cute! And it looks like you’re enjoying yourself, too!” she said with a wry smile. James just bent his head in shame. “Hmm,” she mused to herself. “Yes, I do believe twelve is the perfect age for one’s first bra!” She ruffled through the pile until she found what she was looking for: a light blue bra, the exact same shade as the boyshorts James was wearing. “Here, sweetie. 30B should look just right.”
         “30B’s of what?” James blurted out, showing his true inquisitive nature.
         “No, silly! 30B is what’s called a bra size. The bigger the numbers and letters go, the bigger breasts you have!” she explained. “I’m a 36B, which is pretty average. But you’re so much smaller than me that I’m a 36 and you’re a 30. Go on! Try it.”
         James took the bra, much less reluctantly this time. He was at the age where he was starting to notice girls and their chests. He was surprised to find himself curious as to how breasts, or as his friends at school called them, “boobs”, worked. Pamela knelt down behind him to do up the back, as James was thoroughly unable to. The loose cups dangled on his chest, giving unneeded support to nothing.
         “Don’t worry, honey! That’s why I got these!” Pamela said as she opened a box marked “FORMS”. She handed James the two gel filled capsules found inside. “These are called falsies, darling. They are just like real breasts, except removable!”
         James squished the falsie in his hand. So this is what boobs feel like, he thought. I have to tell the guys!
         He slipped the falsies into his bra and felt an immediate pressure against his chest. He took a step forward and felt them wobble inside the cup, the gel rippling against his nipple. “It’s… weird. Not bad, just… weird,” he told Pamela. But Pamela wasn’t listening. She had already moved on to the next pile of clothes.
         “What to wear, what to wear?” she hummed to herself. “Ah! This is cute!” she informed James, handing him a pink polo shirt, the kind with a collar.
         This isn’t too bad, I’ve worn these before, James thought. As he tried to force his head through the tiny opening, his fake breasts bobbled up and down. He blushed at the feeling, but Pamela only smiled more brightly. He finally managed to pull it on, and he marveled at the tight feel of it. It was much better than a guy’s shirt.
         By the time he was done with the shirt, his stepmom had already picked out a matching pink miniskirt. “Pink suits you so well!” she told him.
         By now, James was actually starting to enjoy his dress-up session. All of the new feelings and sensations were overwhelming. He unresistingly put on the skirt, loving the swishing sensation his legs felt when he walked.
         “Here, you just have to see yourself! You look so adorable!” Pamela said as she wheeled a full-length mirror out of her closet. James gasped when he saw the reflection. He saw a very cute girl with a tomboyish haircut and an ample bust for her age staring back. He was taken back at the sight.
         “Now, would you be a dear and send your brother in?” Pamela told him in a far away voice. She was obviously pleased with the results.
         “What? Go out? But what if someone sees me?!”
         “Hide in your room for all I care, but don’t you dare take those clothes off, or I swear, there will be hell to pay!”
         James gulped and ran out the door. As he passed his younger brother he yelled out “You’re turn!” and scampered off into his bedroom.
         Joe couldn’t believe his eyes! Was that really James who just ran by? But James hated pink! His mind swirling, Joe pushed open the door and walked in.
         “Hello, sweetie! Did you like you’re brother’s new look? Well, don’t worry, dear, Pamela has something for you too!”
         Joe didn’t know how to react. He was thoroughly confused.
         “Now,” Pamela continued, “you need some new undies! Come over here and pick out one you like.” She knelt down next to the pile.
         Joe scanned the pile. He didn’t know about the differences between girls’ and boys’ underwear yet, so he was unsure of what to make of these strange undergarments. He knew one thing, however. He loved the colors. “I want that one!” he said, pointing.
         “This? Are you sure?” Pamela questioned, holding up an orange thong.
         “Yeah! It’s pretty!”
         “Well, to each his own. Why don’t you try it on, pumpkin?”
         Joe, unlike his brother, had no inhibitions about undressing before his stepmom. He didn’t understand why anyone else would, either.
         He peeled off his whitey-tighty briefs and eagerly pulled on the thong. His seven year old penis and testicles barely fit in the front, but they managed because they were so small. He immediately loved it. The wedging feeling of the thong meant security to him, and the silky feeling on his crotch made him all tingly. “It’s great!” he told her excitedly, squirming a bit to get the straps in the right places on his hips.
         “Well, I’m glad you like it! Now, why don’t your try on this cami? You’re hardly old enough to warrant a bra, I’m afraid.”
         Joe wordlessly accepted the camisole and put it on. He had worn a tank top before, and he thought that the two felt similar. Only the cami had much thinner straps. He liked that, they didn’t get in the way as much.
         Pamela picked out a sundress for him to wear, and Joe put it on without any comment. To himself, though, he was enjoying this. It was fun. The sundress was much more comfortable to wear than his other clothes, due to the absence of leg holes.
         Pamela studied him. “Not bad,” she told herself, “not bad at all. Now go scamper off and play with James, okay, honey? I have to clean up this mess!”
         Joe scampered off, leaving Pamela smiling and whistling as she cleaned up.


         Joe opened the door to his and James’ joint bedroom. “Hey James! Whatcha doin’?” To Joe, it looked as if James had been grabbing his shirt. Maybe he was checking for bugs, Joe’s seven-year-old brain suggested. When James noticed Joe’s entry, he quickly stopped and put his hands behind his back, turning red.
         “What do you want?”
         “I wanted to see your new clothes! Aren’t mine neat?” He paused. “Hey, what happened to your chest? It’s all lumpy, like Pam’s!”
         James sighed. Now would be as good a time as ever. “Well, you know how girls have lumpy chests right? Well, they’re called boobs. Pam gave me some fake boobs to wear. Here, feel them,” he explained, bending down to let Joe cop a feel.
         “Oooh! They’re really soft! I want some!”
         “Heh,” James chuckled. “You’re way too young to have any. And besides, they’re just fake. I’ll probably only have these for the rest of the day, anyway. See, this is Pam’s way of punishing us for the vase. Dressing up like a girl is humiliating.”
         “Ya think so, huh? I don’t know. It’s not a very good punishment.”
         “Just wait. Tomorrow she’ll probably tell us we can have our old clothes back.”


         “Oh, boys! Time for bed!” Pamela called to her stepsons. Her announcement was greeted by the sound of the television being witched off and feet scampering up the stairs. “Whoa! Not so fast! I have another little present for the two of you.”
         James narrowed his eyes suspiciously while Joe looked eagerly delighted.
         “Ta da! A new set of matching pajamas!” Pamela held up two sheer black babydolls, one a miniature of the other. James immediately drew back, but Joe’s eyes sparkled at the shiny material. He grabbed the smaller one immediately. James took the remaining one, but he did so apprehensively. Upon close inspection, he saw that it was made out of chiffon, with large ruffles at the shoulders. He saw that there was no built-in bra, however, so he couldn’t sleep with his falsies. A slight pity, but not a huge loss, he decided.
         He returned to his bedroom and found Joe already hurriedly removing his sundress. James’ mouth fell open when he saw the skimpy orange thong that Joe was wearing. “What is that?!” he demanded.
         “Oh, this? Isn’t it pretty?” Joe asked, pulling on the straps so that they rested higher on his hips than before. James turned away, blushing at how innocent his little brother was.
         The brothers then donned their babydolls and climbed into their respective beds. James looked more normal now without his falsies. Joe was soon asleep, snuggled tight in the chiffon folds, but James remained awake. He couldn’t help but sneak peeks at his sleeping brother, wondering why on Earth Pam would let him wear such a thing. Eventually, he dozed off, too, eagerly waiting for this ‘punishment’ to be over.


         As usual, Joe was the first one awake by almost an hour. It was Saturday, and Joe never bothered dressing out of his pajamas until noon on Saturdays. As he crept down the stairs to watch the 6 AM cartoons, he heard the clatter of the milkman bringing fresh bottles, as per the usual routine. And also as usual, Joe went out to greet the milkman in his pajamas, a practice his stepmother was completely unaware of.
         “Hi, Mr. Dentshire!” he called as he opened the door. “Have you-“ Joe paused as he the saw the awestruck look on his face. “Oh, I forgot! Like my new pajamas?” he inquired, blissfully unaware of Mr. Dentshire’s incredulity as Joe stuck a thumb behind the right strap of his thong, pulled it away from his body about two inches, and let it snap back to hit his bare flesh. Mr. Denthsire, eyes still bulging, slowly backed off, back to his truck, without a word.
         Joe soon forgot about the incident, however, as he turned on the television and enjoyed the Saturday morning cartoons. By 10AM, both James and Pamela had arisen and breakfasted, unaware that anything had happened.
         Later in the day, Pamela took both boys to the hair salon to have their hair done. Joe went without a fuss, as usual, and even James, who assumed this was still part of the ‘punishment’, was complacent. When they returned, they both had brand new artificial-hair wigs: James a chestnut brown, Joe a deep cherry redhead.
         “I’m gonna go wear mine now!” Joe declared as he ran to the bathroom to properly position the wig. He wore a cute red bolero with a denim skirt; the cherry wig perfectly completed the look. He pranced around in it happily.
         James, however, was a different story.
         “Why don’t you try yours, dear?” Pamela nudged.
         “Uh… Not right now.”
         “Oh, come on. We’re all dying to see.”
         “I said no!”
         And in his haste to retreat to his room, James crashed head-on into a bust of Wulfgang Klanz, sending it crashing to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. Nobody said anything. Then everybody was shouting at once. Pamela screamed at James, James screamed at Pamela, and Joe screamed at both to stop.
         Pamela had had enough. Without a second thought, she grabbed James, flung him into the back seat of the car, and drove off, only pausing to tell Joe that “I’m going to be gone all night, honey. You can have leftover pizza for dinner,” before slamming on the gas and driving off into the sunset.
         Joe was stricken. He began weeping, at first because he was scared for himself, and then because he was scared for James. After what seemed like forever, all the tears were gone and Joe was immensely hungry. He looked outside and saw that it was dark. He knew that he would have to fend for himself tonight.
         Recovering his poise, Joe stopped by the kitchen to grab a slice of cold pizza on his way upstairs. In his room, he stripped off his bolero and skirt, revealing the skimpy g-string he wore underneath. After much pleading, Pamela had allowed him to wear it on the condition that he tells no one. And so far, he had stayed true to his word. He liked it too much to lose it. He loved the way it rested high in his ass, the way it gripped his hips, and the way it felt on his dick. If Joe had been older than seven, he would probably be masturbating now. But as such, he was unaware of the act of self-pleasure. Instead, he slimpy pulled the smooth babydoll over his head and slowly drifted off to sleep.


         When Joe woke up, he was still alone. Grimly, he realized he would probably have to make his own breakfast. He stopped off at his stepmother’s bedroom, however, where he knew she kept all of the clothes she bought for him. He took off his pajamas, changed his g-string for a thong, and selected a striped halter top with a pleated skirt. As he finished changing, he heard the unmistakable sound of the Trans-Am pulling into the garage. Immediately he sprang up, bounded down the stairs, and flung open the garage door, but was only greeted by a tear-streaming figure that knocked him over as he ran by. Pamela soon emerged from the garage.
         “I’m terribly sorry to have to just up and leave like that, sweetums, but your brother simply needed to be taught a lesson. But don’t worry. Everything is better now.” She smiled knowingly.
         The sound of James’s anguished sobs stopped around noon, and around 2PM James himself appeared in their midst. He looked like his normal self: he was wearing his chestnut wig, sweat pants, and a sports bra, which Joe assumed was to hold his falsies in. James appeared to have collected himself, and whatever happened, he appeared over it to Joe.
         That night, the brother’s got ready for pet as usual. Joe stripped down to his thong while James shook his head disapprovingly. James himself still only wore boyshorts.
         James, however, waited until Joe was already in bed before going in to the bathroom to get changed. That’s strange, Joe thought. He’s never had a problem dressing in front of me before.
         James’s voice came out of the bathroom before the person. “Hey Joe, you know how I was gone for a day, right?”
         “Well, duh.”
         “Well, the truth is… Pam took me to a doctor. As punishment. She, uh… She gave me breast implants,” he said, his voice shameful.
         “What’s that?” Joe asked, not comprehending.
         “It’s… It’s like my falsies. Except I can wear them without a bra.”
         “Hmmm.” Joe pictured James’s falsies held onto his chest via duct tape. He giggled.
         James, meanwhile, had opened the door to the bathroom and was standing there in his babydoll and boyshorts. Joe’s mouth dropped open and his eyes bulged. Underneath James’s babydoll were clearly visible two round nipples that protruded from two perfectly round orbs of flesh.
         “But… those are real! You have real boobs!”
         James sighed again and sat down on Joe’s bed. “They’re not completely real. What the doctor did is… He cut a hole in my chest and pushed a bag of jelly in. Now it fees like I have a bag of jelly jiggling around inside of me. It’s terrible! I’m a freak! I can never go back to school! What kind of boy has boobs?!”
         “Can I… can I feel them?” Joe asked sheepishly.
         “Sure, might as well make some use of them.” And so James lay down beside Joe on his bed, and snuggled under the covers. “Do what ever you want. Just not too hard, they’re still kinda tender. I’m going to sleep. I’m beat; I didn’t sleep at all last night.” And he promptly fell asleep.
         Joe, however, was enraptured. He poked ad prodded and fondled and cupped and even licked until the wee hours of the morning. When James woke, good and rested, he found Joe nestled tightly in his cleavage.
         “Hey, sleepyhead, get up!”
         Joe awoke slowly, gradually getting his bearings. When he saw James’s new bust, however, he was again instantly enthralled.
         “That’s so cool! I want some! Hey, I know! I’ll trade ya! What do you want?!”
         James chuckled sadly at his brother’s naivety. “If I would I could, you know that.”
         “Hey, can I at least have your falsies?!”
         “Sure. Lord knows I don’t need them now.” He said, eyeing his chest.
         Joe bolted from bed, grabbed the falsies and a bra off of James’s dresser, ripped off his babydoll, and tried to put the bra on. But failed miserably.
         James chuckled again, and fastened the back for him. Joe stood proud in his thong and bra, probably the only seven year old in the world to have a B cup. He quickly pulled on his halter top from yesterday, exuberant at how he filled the top. James decided he was having too much fun to tell him that the top of a second grader was not meant to be filled out.
         Joe spent the rest of the day happily bouncing up and down the stairs, relishing the jiggle of his chest. James, contrastingly, spent his time sulking around in a sports bra to minimize his new assets.
         When it was time again for bed, Joe once again eagerly began to change, but then paused as a thought struck him.
         “Hey, James, how come your boobs are bigger than mine? That’s not fair!”
         James smiled and explained to him, “My implants are a C cup, while those falsies are just a B cup. Sorry, but it looks like you got beat.”
         Joe decided to take his troubles to his stepmother. “Pam! I, uh… I know what I want for my birthday.”
         “Well, finally. It’s just five days away. I’ve been asking for a list the entire summer! Well, what’ve you got?”
         “It’s, well, uh… I want boobs!”
         Pamela was taken aback. She had thought implants were a punishment, not a reward.
         “Pleasepleasepleaseplease! I’ll take really good care of them, I promise!”
         “Hmmm… Breasts, huh? I think I can arrange that. But only because you’ve been such a good darling!”
         Joe was ecstatic.


         The next day, Pamela took Joe to the surgeon. Pamela told Joe that this had to be a secret and that he must tell no one. After all, breast augmentation on a seven year old isn’t exactly board-certified procedure. Joe understood perfectly.
         “Now,” Dr. Fertehn asked geniably, “what size are you interested in, Ms. Van Deffen?”
         Pamela looked to Joe for an answer. Joe thought back to what James had said about cup sizes, how C was bigger than B. So, logically…
         “D cup!”
         Dr. Fertehn was startled. “Are you positive? That is quite large!”
         “You heard the girl!” Pamela snapped back, and Dr. Fertehn scrambled to find a pen and his day planner. “Well, erm… I can treat you… how about in four days? August 31st?” he asked, attempting to regain his composure.
         “Perfect,” Pamela cooed. She was positively radiant on the ride hope, not to mention Joe’s happiness. He couldn’t ‘til school started to show everyone his cool new boobs!


         “Now, Joe, hold my hand, relax, and count backwards from 100. And when you wake up, you’ll have the best birthday present ever!”
         Joe was so excited that he wasn’t even afraid when the anesthesiologist put the oxygen mask over his mouth.


         When Joe awoke, he was cold and numb and couldn’t move his fingers. “Where am I?” he tried to ask, but all that came out was, “wwwmmmmiii.” He drifted off to dreamless sleep once again.

         This time, when Joe awoke, he recognized immediately where he was. His bed. He steadied himself, braced for impact, and threw off the covers! His eyes grew wide as he saw the mountains of flesh that protruded from his chest. He had no idea they would be so big! He tried to sit up, but just fell back onto his side. He heard a giggle from the other side of the room, but couldn’t see who it was; his new breasts blocked his view. This time, Joe mustered all of his strength, and sat bolt upright. His breasts jiggled so much that he could feel the vibrations shaking him from head to toe. Gingerly, he stood up.  Balancing was incredibly tricky; one false step and he was sprawled over the floor. He walked over to his closet, pulled out a skirt and bent to put it on, when he realized that he couldn’t see his legs! Or any of his lower body, for that matter. He was interrupted from his task, however, by his brother stooping over to grab him in a bear hug. Joe could feels his breasts squished against his brothers, and he blushed deep crimson; it felt great.
         “Thank you.” James whispered in Joe’s ear. Joe, not understanding but grateful for his brother’s thanks, remained silent.
         “Well,” came Pamela’s voice as she burst into the bedroom, “I did it! It took a lot of persuasion, but it’s done.”
         “What are you talking about?”
         “James, you will be attending 8th grade as Jamie van Deffen. Joe, you are enrolled in the 3rd grade as Julene van Deffen. You better get used to those names soon; school starts next week!”
         James and Joe, or rather, Jamie and Julene, just hugged each other tighter.

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