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FOR GIRLS ONLY by Terri Except that the wooden bands around the top had been painted white and that each alternating wooden band on the sides had been painted a light orange, it was typical wooden basket, the kind with wire handles on each side, an old apple basket or peach basket, which one of us could have carried alone. It wasn't that heavy, filled with the usual office trash, loose papers and stuff from her small office. "Charles, you and Terry take this basket of trash down to the incinerator, empty it and come right back. I have another errand for the two of you." "Yes Miss Davis," my friend Charley quickly answered for both of us. Neither of us really wanted to do it but there wasn't much of a choice. There were some clouds in the sky, but not many, and it was warm. The rest of the guys were already getting ready to go down to the boat house to change and go swimming, while the two of us were selected by Miss. Davis to dump her lousy trash basket. By the time we got back from the incinerator, did the other errand she'd just mentioned, by the time we got down to the boathouse and changed into our swim suits we'd miss out on a lot of swimming. Charley knew it to, but Miss. Davis didn't care about such things and choose the two of us instead of a couple of others. Charley was older than me by only a year or a little more and like most of the guys I knew he was a lot taller to. The top of my head hardly came up to his shoulders, and that day, like me, he was in a hurry to get back, and since he was a lot taller than me, he walked a lot faster to. "Come on Terry," he yelled at me as I struggled to keep up. "You want to go swimming don't ya?" he asked. "You're going to fast," I snapped back, angry that he was yelling at me! A moment or two later and without my expecting it, probably because I was going way too slow for him, Charley gave yank on the basket to make me move faster and pulled the wire handle right out of my hand. Most of the papers fell out of the basket in one clump at our feet. "You idiot!" Charley yelled. "You stupid jerk," he added, as we both tried to quickly get all the papers and trash bank into the basket! It didn't take us all that long to pick up some of the loose papers which had blown away and soon we were on our way again without saying a word to each other. He was mad at me for being so slow, and I was mad at him for being a bully. Mostly we were mad because we knew we'd miss out on some of the swimming that day. The incinerator was a good walk from the main office, at the end of an old dirt road, just beyond and behind the building where the girl's dorm was. I guess it had been there for years. Everybody knew where it was. Sometimes it was fun to be volunteered to take the trash to the incinerator. It didn't happen too often and unlike this time it was usually a treat, a chance to get away from it all for a little while and be alone, but not today, not this time. We knew we were going to miss out on some swimming and Charley and I resented it, a lot. Someone had been there before us, maybe an hour or so earlier, because the small metal door was still good and hot, so hot that Charley gave me a stick to open it. Using the stick I pushed the metal lever up, and pried the door open, with its usual groan and loud squeal. There wasn't a roaring fire going on inside the incinerator but the heat was intense and a quick look at the remains showed that there had been a large fire in there very recently. "Open it all the way!" Charley, who was standing behind me, half yelled for no reason. "Ok. Ok." With the door all the way open, I could really feel the heat and stood out of the way as Charley picked up the basket and tossed it along with the papers into the incinerator. "You stupid jerk! Wha'ca do that for!?" I yelled at him excitedly. Charley looked at me. He didn't know what I was talking about. "Miss. Davis wants her basket back!" I yelled. Charley realized he messed up and quickly reached with his long arms and pulled the basket out, dumping it and a lot of the papers that were still in it, right outside and in front of the incinerator as he did. "Come on Terry," he half pleaded, "give me a hand." As fast as we could and for the second time we picked up as many of the papers as we could get our hands on and tossed them back into the incinerator. It took a while to because a small breeze had blown some of them down by the nearby creek, but we got as many as we could find, tossed them in, closed the door to the incinerator and started back to Miss. Davis' office. I got to carry the empty basket when we left the incinerator, and thinking about the swimming we were already missing out on, both of us hurried up the old road saying nothing to each other, but I just couldn't walk as fast as Charley and soon he was a good bit ahead of me, but he soon slowed down. When I caught up with him, I saw that mischievous look, more like a smile, that crossed his face, I guess because he was glad that I'd remembered Miss Davis wanted her basket back and I hadn't let him burn it. We'd both have been in a lot of trouble if that had happened. Without word he reached over and grabbed a handful of my hair, roughing it up a bit. He was just playing around and we both knew it, and I guess it was his way of saying thanks. Like most of the older guys, Charley always had a short crew cut. There were a few, like me, who had longer hair because their moms wanted it that way, and some of the guys teased us about it from time to time. One of Charley's bigger friends called me "mop-top," while another once told me that I looked a lot like his baby sister. A few said I was a sissy, but I'd become used to being teased because of long hair and usually shrugged it off. I liked my hair just the way it was. Just before we got half way up the road to the building where the girl's dorm was Charley took it from me. "I'll carry it," he told me as he came over to me and pulled it from my hands.. As we walked on, he examined the basket, brushing off some of the dirt which it picked up while inside the incinerator and from where it landed in the dirt just outside of it. "Hey Charley, look," I called to him, pointing at the swings. "So?" he asked, looking at where I'd pointed, already knowing what was on my mind. "Those swings are for the girls stupid," he told me as he continued to walk on. Ignoring him, I went over to the swings anyway. There were half a dozen of them. They all had well worn wooden seats and were hung with thick ropes tied to a large metal pole about eight or ten feet above the ground. There were also some long wooden teeter-totters, three of them just beyond the swings. "Come on Terry!" Charley called to me. "You want to go swimming don't ya?" he called again when I didn't answer right away. "Yea, but I want to try these, just for a minute. Ok," I yelled back to him as I got on the nearest swing and began to push off. Knowing he couldn't change my mind, Charley came over, put the empty basket down and got on the swing at the far end from me, and soon the two of us were having a ball. It wasn't too long before we were soon trying to see who could swing the highest. Charley was good at it and it didn't take him very long until he was swinging a lot higher than I knew I ever could, and I quit trying to beat him. For what seemed like a good while, I just had a good time swinging back and forth as hard as I could, just to get the breeze to blow thru my hair each time. It felt wonderful, and I never saw where she came from, and I never heard her come up from behind us. "And just what do you two think you are doing?!" she demanded. The loud voice came from behind us, and I guess it scared Charley as much as it did me. We both had to struggle to stop swinging so we could get off the swings safely and stand up, to turn around to see who was yelling at us. It was Miss. Stevens! We both knew who she was! The girls dean! The old grouch who was in charge of the girl's at the school. As tall or taller than most men and looking like she was as strong as a horse -and about as big as one to, most of us, the boys that is, had never met her, although from time to time most of us had seen her at a distance whenever some of the teachers and matrons at the school got together. Everybody knew that all the girls were afraid of her, and we were soon to find out why. "I asked you two a question!" she half yelled as she repeated, "Who said you two could play on the girl's swings?" We were in trouble and we both knew it. The school always kept the boys and girls apart, except for school classes. Like us, the girls and the little kids had their own playground and it was for their use only. Boys weren't allowed over here. "Come over here!" she ordered. I guess like Charley I wanted to run, but where? She took us both by our arms and started to lead us off. "That's Miss. Davis' isn't it?" she asked as we were just about to pass by the basket, and without breaking stride she told Charley who was closest to pick it up. Like Charley, Miss. Stevens walked fast and he didn't have any problem keeping up with her. I tripped once or twice, but Miss. Stevens never let go of my arm or lost her stride as she took us, half dragged me, to the girl's dorm building where we knew her office was. When we reached the front door Miss. Stevens released her grip on Charley's arm and had him open the door. She never released her vice-like grip on my arm and I was tugged in the door right behind her. Neither of us had been there, in the girl's building before. It was a lot newer than the one where we stayed, but I guess because they used the same stuff to clean the floors and all, it smelled the same. "Wait here you two," she told us, as we stopped in front of a glass enclosed office which was right inside the front door. "Good afternoon Miss. Stevens," we could hear three or four girls say together as she opened the door and went inside. Standing outside the office, Charley and I didn't say anything. We both knew we were in for it, whatever "it" was and we knew we wouldn't like it. Miss. Stevens wasn't in the office very long and when she came out she simply snapped at the two of us, "Down there you two," she ordered as she pointed to the end of the semi-lit, almost dark hallway on our left. "The last door on the right," she added, as she followed right behind us. Charley stopped to pick up the basket. "Leave it," she snapped. "You can pick it up on the way back." On the way, as we walked down the corridor I turned and looking back I saw a girl's face poking out from the office door behind us. "Keep your eyes ahead of you," Miss. Stevens ordered, and I did as I was told! As scared as we were, neither Charley or I said anything, and Miss. Stevens didn't say anything either as we walked down to the end of the long, almost dark hallway. "Inside! Quickly! Quickly! Move it! Both of you! Quickly," she ordered as if she were some kind of drill instructor when we came to the last door on the right at the end of the hall. Charley opened it and the three of us went inside. Miss. Stevens was right behind. Pressing up against me as she did, Miss. Stevens reached over without looking and turned on the lights. Then she closed the door behind us. I guess it was her office. The large brown wooden desk was off to the right, and against the other wall was a long, large sofa or couch. There was a door to another room just to the right of the couch. "Get undressed!" she ordered. Neither Charley or I moved. "Both of you, take your shirt and your pants off!" she ordered. She sure sounded like she was real mad then. I didn't believe what I'd heard. Was she serious? "You heard me," she said, really angry this time. Maybe she was used to being obeyed right away, but we both knew she was really angry and a quick look at Charley's face showed he was just as shocked and just as puzzled as I was. What was she going to do? Kill us in our underwear? Why should we have to get undressed? In an office? Although Charley was a only one or two years older than me, because I was small for my age I often got to wear short pants like a lot of the little kids, like a lot of the younger kids, and I hated it but now I didn't want to take them off, at least not in front of Miss. Stevens! But we were too scared to do anything but obey, so Charley and I began to undress as Miss. Stevens simply stood there and watched us for a moment to see that she was being obeyed. Satisfied, she then went over to the door that was just beyond the other side of the couch, opened it and went into the room that was there. She was back out in a moment, carrying a woman's hair brush, the kind that had a long wooden handle on it, and just about the same time as Miss. Stevens came back into the room there was a light knocking on the outer door to the office where we were. "Come in," Miss. Stevens called out, as Charley and I who'd already finished undressing, were standing there in the middle of the room, folding our shirts and our pants! It was really embarrassing. Two girls, both about our ages, both about as tall as Charley, came into the room. Without a word, as they both went over to Miss. Stevens, to stand beside her, seeing us standing there in her office, in our underwear, they both had big smiles on their faces. Miss. Stevens just stood there for a moment or two, with her arms folded across her chest, not saying anything. Then, and without a word, Miss. Stevens just pointed to the two of us, and I guess because they'd seen this before, the two girls knew what they were there for. The smaller of the girls, holding what I at first thought was a faded light blue shirt, came over to me and had me raise my arms up over my head. It was only after she shook it out, then held it up, as she put it over my arms that I realized what was going on. She did it so fast, it happened so quietly, I never had a chance to say or do anything about it. She put my arms into it and pulled it down over my head so fast, that it was done before I knew it, and there was nothing I could do about it, even as the girl had me turn around so she could fasten the two or three little buttons in the back up by the neck. She'd put a dress on me! It was a little girls lightweight summer dress, a float dress, a light blue, almost infantile style of summer dress like all the little girls at the school sometimes wore. It had the short puffy sleeves that ended in an elasticized ruffle, the same thin, worn, white, medium blue and yellow band of lace trim which went all around the bodice which was almost up around my chest, and like most dresses like that which I'd seen little girls dressed in from time to time, the hem of the dress looked like it stopped halfway between my knees and my hips. It was the kind of dress that women make little girls wear so that they'll look cute, the kind that any little sissy would love to have to wear. While the one girl finished dressing me up like a little sissy, Miss. Stevens and the other girl were doing the same with Charley. I could see how ashamed he was as he had to stand there and be dressed in the light yellow and white gingham dress. It was the same kind that many of the big girls at the school, like the two who were helping Miss. Stevens often wore during the summer. Like me, I could see how humiliated Charley was as the girl behind him buttoned up the back of his dress. When she was tying bow at the small of his back, Charley who was facing me then, was getting ready to cry. "Well don't you two look darling," Miss. Stevens said sarcastically as the two girls who'd finished with us, made us both turn to face her. As the two girls went back over to stand beside Miss. Stevens, Charley'd begun to cry but Mrs. Stevens who'd noticed it, paid no attention. "Now," Miss. Stevens began, "what did Miss. Davis tell you two when she gave you that basket of trash to dump in the incinerator?" Neither Charley or I answered. We didn't move. We were too afraid to do anything but just stand there. "She told you to come right back didn't she," Miss. Stevens said looking at me? "But you didn't do that did you," she added with strange kind of smile, looking over at Charley, and without waiting for an answer she continued? "And since all the girls except these two," she said, quickly looking to her left, then to her right, "are supposed to be upstairs attending sewing lessons," and looking back at me again, "or in art class, and not playing on the swings where I found the two of you, I'm going to show you what happens to girls around here who skip classes." "You," Miss. Stevens ordered, pointing to me, "come over here." Frightened, embarrassed, very ashamed and very sorry, I slowly did as I was told. Miss. Stevens who had gone over to her disk and had pushed some of the things that were on it out of the way, was waiting for me. As I stood in front of her, Miss. Stevens looked at me for a second, then with a hand motion pointing towards the large couch on the other side of the room, she told me "I think I'll take you over my knees." It was about as bad a humiliation as I'd ever suffered in my whole life. It was bad enough to have to be dressed like a little sissy, but now with Miss. Stevens sitting on the thick padded arm at the one end the couch, I knew what was going to happen. Everybody in the room knew what was going to happen. I was going to get a spanking, and like a little kid, like a little sissy, like I was a baby, Miss. Stevens was going to spank me over her knees. When I got over to her, Miss. Stevens half pushed, and half pulled me across her skirt. I lay there for a second, then I felt a slight tug on my dress, as Miss. Stevens pulled the hem way up and over my back, as far as it could go. I couldn't see what she was doing, but when I felt Miss. Stevens begin to pull my underpants down I almost died from the humiliation! She didn't just pull them down a little bit, she pulled them all the way down to my knees, about as far down as I guess she could! "Those swing sets where I found the two of you are for girls - and only the girls - and since you decided to skip your classes today, you will now find out what happens to disobedient little girls at this school." With her one free hand placed on the middle of my back to keep me in place as I lay across her knees, I felt Miss. Stevens move slightly, then I heard it. Then I felt it! At first it was more of a shock, but the pain that followed was like fire! I jumped and kicked, but as big as she was, and as strong as she was, Miss. Stevens had me right where she wanted me, and she held me there. The second one was worse than the first, a lot worse. I cried out, telling her I wouldn't do it again, hoping she'd have mercy and stop spanking me. "Believe me when I'm done with you, you little sissy, it will be a long time before you, before your or your friend there, before either of you have any interest in skipping any classes again." Then the third one came. It was worse than the second, and the fourth was worse than that. I know there was another one, and a lot more after that but I quickly lost count of how many times Miss. Stevens spanked me with that big long hair brush of hers. By the time she was done and had let me stand up again, I was really crying. My behind felt like it was on fire, and at the same time it felt like there were waves of numbness going up and down, and all across it. Although tears had clouded my view, standing there in front of Miss. Stevens, because the dress I had on was so short, I could see that my underpants were way down below my dress, bunched up there, just above my knees. Miss. Stevens let me pull them back up, and I was only too glad to, but I don't remember too much after that except that after one of the girls came over to me, I soon heard Charley over by the desk, getting his spanking. Like me, he was soon crying to, and I think Miss. Stevens spanked him a lot harder and longer than she did me, because his behind was real bright red before she finished and let him stand up again. As Charley was pulling his underpants up, Miss. Stevens, who'd just finished straightening up her skirt, told one the girls to, "give that big sissy a tissue so she can dry her eyes and blow her nose." The taller of the two girls gave him a tissue and as Charley slowly stopped crying, Miss. Stevens dismissed the two girls. "Ok, you two can go," she told them. Before they closed the door they both looked back at us, and as I turned to look, both of them had big smiles on their faces. Like Charley, I was just too devastated to say or do anything, but just stand there. "Now, do you two know what happens to those who skip classes around here, in a moment or two you'll be taken up stairs to attend the balance of your education for today," Miss. Stevens told us. Too humiliated and ashamed to say or do anything, we just stood there, not knowing what to say or what to do. We watched as, Miss. Stevens went over to her desk, put everything back the way it was before she spanked Charley, then she picked up the telephone and from the short, one sided conversation we knew she'd called Miss. Davis. It wasn't a long conversation and Miss. Stevens ended it with, "I'll keep them here until close to supper time, then I'll bring them back over." Supper time? It wasn't even noontime! With that she hung up the telephone, then led us out of the office and back down the hallway from where we'd come. When we passed the office she'd first gone into, Miss. Stevens told us to wait as she went back inside, then came right back out. One of the girls came right out behind her, and headed off, back down the hallway were we'd just come from. "This way girls," Miss. Stevens said to the two of us, pushing us by our shoulders, making us walk ahead of her. Near the front of the building, just before we got to the front door, we had to turn and go up stairs. Neither Charley or I said anything the whole time, and Miss. Stevens who was right behind us, didn't say anything either. On the second floor, halfway down the long hallway, where Miss. Stevens was leading us, we both heard someone talking, there was the sound of sewing machines working, and we heard what sounded like a bunch of little kids having a good time. "In there you two," Miss. Stevens said, pointing to the large room with the open door on the left. We'd gone into the back of the room, which was full of girls. The girls were all sitting at their desks, two to a desk, and there were about two dozen desks in the room, each with a sewing machine on it. Like Charley, most of the girls wore the same kind of dresses. Some were light yellow, others were light green, and some were light blue, like the one I had on. Like Miss. Stevens, the woman at the front of the room, who was on her way back to us, was dressed in a white blouse and short dark blue skirt. Her short reddish hair drawn back into a tight little bun, just like Miss. Stevens'. She was obviously teaching the class. "I have another one for you Miss. Teeley," Miss. Stevens called out as she pointed to Charley. Some of the girls turned around, and seeing the two of us, they started to giggle. Then most of the others turned around, to see what the others were laughing about. I don't know about Charley, but by then I was ready to die. "That's enough girls," Miss. Teeley told the class as she clapped her hands to get their attention and to restore order. "Back to your sewing girls," she told them. Still trying to keep from laughing out loud, most of the girls, with hands over their mouths turned back to their sewing machines and what they were working on. Miss. Teeley came back to us, and after a moment or two of hushed conversation between the two of them, Miss. Teeley then took Charley by the arm and led him over to one of the girls near the middle of the room, a girl who had a sewing machine all to herself, and made him sit with her. I felt so sorry for him then, he must have really been humiliated and embarrassed by then, beyond belief. "You, come with me," Miss. Stevens said, as she touched my shoulder to get my attention, and like I was a little kid, she took my hand and led me out of the room. Right across the hall from the sewing room was another room. Although all of the doors were closed, you could easily tell from the noise that there were a lot of little kids in the room. After Miss. Stevens opened the door and had me go in, once again with her I found myself standing at the back of classroom. The room was as about as big as the one where we'd just left Charley, only they weren't teaching sewing. It was an art class, an art class for little girls. Standing behind and leaning over two of the girls seated at the long table in the center of the room, the woman who was teaching the class happened to look up as we entered the room, and leaving the girls for a moment she came over to us when Miss. Stevens signaled her with a wave of her hand. About as tall as Miss. Stevens and dressed a lot like her, but lot younger, Miss. Anderson was thin and very pretty. Her short brunette hair style was a lot like mine, giving her that cute "tomboy" look, and that warm smile of hers left no doubt that although I had to wear a dress like all the others in the room, unlike Charley who was being made to take sewing lessons, I knew right away that spending time in art class with Miss. Anderson wouldn't be so bad. "And who do we have here," she asked looking at me as she came over to us. "Tracy, I'd like to keep this little sissy here for the remainder of your class today. Can you do that for me," Miss. Stevens asked, looking down at me? For a moment Miss. Anderson didn't say anything as she looked at me. I guess, maybe, it was the unisex hair style of mine that confused her at first. She seemed puzzled, but then she understood, and when I looked up at her, Miss. Anderson I guess could see that I'd been crying recently. "Oh! Oh! I see. I understand," she said in a soft voice as she held out both of her hands to me, taking mine. "Oh sure! We'd be glad to have another little artist join our group," she told Miss. Stevens with big smile and obvious delight. "Good, Then I'll leave this one in your care Tracy, There's another one, an older one in Miss. Teeley's room, and at the end of your class if you'd take this one over there to wait for me with Miss. Teeley, I'd appreciate it. Ok," Miss. Stevens asked? Without taking her eyes off of me, Miss. Anderson nodded yes and with that Miss. Stevens turned and left the room, re-closing the door behind her. "Well honey," Miss. Anderson asked trying to be nice, "what's your name?" "Terry," I answered, still very much embarrassed, almost ready to cry again. "Terry? Why that's a very nice name," she said after a moment, then she added, "What were you punished for Terry?" "We were playing on the girl's swing's," I told her, feeling so very sorry for myself, something she could easily see. "Well," she said as she let go of one of my hands, "well I'll be you won't do that again will you," she asked, already knowing the answer? I just shook my head, letting her know she'd guessed right. "Do you like to draw or paint Terry," she asked, leading me over to the end of the long table in the middle of the room, where a couple of girls already were, and who were watching us? "Yes," I told her truthfully. I'd always liked drawing and painting and I guess she could tell it was the truth by the way I answered. "Frances, Louise, this is Terri," Miss. Anderson told the two girls at the end of the table, "Terri will be joining us for today, so why don't you two show Terri what you're doing. Ok girls?" Although Frances who was somewhat younger than most of the girls across the hallway in the sewing room, and who wasn't that much taller than me, she wore the same kind of dress they all did over there, like the kind Charley'd been made to wear. Looking around I could see that there were about half a dozen girls in the room like her, wearing dresses like hers. Louise, who barely came up to my shoulders, and whose long brown hair was tied off at the sides of her head with thin pink ribbons into long pig tails that touched her shoulders whenever she turned her head, was wearing a dress a lot like the one I had to wear, only hers was a faded pink color. Most of the girls in the class were dressed the same. There were about thirty of us in the room, all wearing almost the same kind of almost infantile dresses. Some were a light green, some were a light tan or a light yellow, and a few like mine were a light blue. I guess it made it a lot easier for the teachers to tell at a glance who the school thought the big girls were and who the little girls were. With Frances, acting more like a big sister than anything else, Louise, I and few others spent the rest of the afternoon drawing and doing cutouts which we pasted up and showed to Miss. Anderson. When it came time to use the water color paints, like the others, when it was my turn, Frances made me stand still so she could dress me in a large smock so I wouldn't get any of the paint on my dress. Mostly we had a lot of fun and the afternoon seemed to go so fast. I don't know what happened to Charley during the rest of the afternoon, but aside from the shock of having to wear a dress for the first time in my life, and having to be spanked over Miss. Stevens knees in her office, thanks to Miss. Anderson, Frances, and all the others I got to meet in art class that day, it really wasn't so bad for me. When the five o'clock bell ring, like some of the others I was disappointed that the class was over. We were all having a real great time in Miss. Anderson's class. After helping me take the painters smock off, and after helping to clean up the room, the older girls like Frances took the rest of the girls out and down stairs, to the girls playground - the last place I knew I wanted to go. After telling me to wait for her by her desk, Miss. Anderson finished putting some things away that the others forgot, then she came over to me. Although she had to look up at me when she did it, when she came over to me and took my hands in hers, she stooped down and asked, "Terri honey, I watched you in class today, and I think you had a nice time. Did you?" I told her I did, and letting go of my hands, Miss. Anderson, as she began to straighten out the slightly up-twisted end of the hem of my short dress told me, "I'm glad you had a nice time in my class. I saw some of the drawings you did honey and they were very pretty. If you ever want to come back to my class, I'd be glad to have you," she said as she stood up. As she took my hand I started to ask but hesitated, "Miss. Anderson?" "Yes, honey," she asked waiting for me to finish my question, as we stopped, just when we were about to leave the room and go across the hall? "Miss. Anderson," I continued, half afraid to ask, "will I have to wear a dress if I come back to your class?" "Only if you want to honey," she answered in the beautiful soft voice that I always remembered which was hers, "Only if you want to honey." When she took me back across the hallway, to Miss. Teeley's room, Charley was there in the back of the room, standing all by himself, really looking miserable. It was kind of obvious that he'd had a long hard afternoon. "Hi Charley," I called to him enthusiastically as I pulled my hand out of Miss. Anderson's and went over to him. "What are you so happy about," he half sneered? For a moment, and almost forgetting all about who I was and where we were, I wanted to tell Charley about the wonderful time I'd had all afternoon, then it all came back to me. When she left Miss. Anderson waved bye to me, and wanting to go with her and knowing that I couldn't, all I could do was wave back, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Miss. Teeley was watching me. She looked at Miss. Anderson, then back at me, and a slight smile came over both their faces. "You two wait outside in the hall," Miss. Teeley told us, adding, "Miss. Stevens will be along in a moment to take the two of you back to where you belong." Shortly Miss. Stevens showed up and after a brief conversation with Miss. Teeley, she came over to us. "Alright you two, let's go see Miss. Davis. She's waiting in her office for us." On the way back over to the boys dorm, we passed several of the older guys and long before they passed us, one of the taller ones recognized Charley. "Hello Charley .. Hi cutie," one of the older guys yelled out teasingly. "Oh dear, you just look so sweet," the same guy called out again imitating a false girl's voice, which was followed by a lot of laughter from the others. "We went swimming today. What'd you do? Did you make dresses or did you play with your dollies all afternoon," another one called out? There was a lot more laughter after that. "The other one's a boy to," another one called out! "There's two of them! They're both sissies," he added; more laughter followed. About then Miss. Stevens turned to them. "This is what will happen to any of you if you're found over on the girl's side, playing on the swings," she told them in a loud and commanding tone. They all went quiet after that, and just kept on going. There was some snickering as they passed us and I know Charley and Miss. Stevens heard it to. When we got into the building Miss. Stevens took us directly to Miss. Davis' office which was on the first floor. Miss. Stevens gave the small brown paper shopping bag which she was carrying to Miss. Davis, telling her, "Here are the sissies I told you about, and their clothes." Miss. Davis looked at us for a moment. "Didn't I tell you two to come right back?" she asked both of us. Neither of us said anything. "Well didn't I," she asked again, expecting an answer? "Yes Miss. Davis," we both answered together, sounding like the girls Miss. Stevens was used to dealing with. "See what happens when you don't do what you're told," she said, not expecting an answer. "The two of you go wait out in the hallway," she said to us after a minute of silence. "I want to speak alone to Mrs. Stevens." We did as we were told, and about a minute or two later Miss. Stevens came out. She looked at us, smiled briefly but didn't say anything to either of us. She just walked right by and left the building. Charley and I had to wait outside of Miss Davis' office until close to dinner time. It may have been a half hour or a little longer, but at times it seemed like an eternity. Miss. Davis went out and came back a few a few times while we were there, but never said anything to us. We just had to stand there, hoping that she'd say or do something that would end the shame and embarrassment of being dressed like sissies. Several times, while on errands, some of our friends went by Miss. Davis' office and Charley and I had to put up with some more looks and humiliating jokes, but finally just before dinner, Miss. Davis who'd been out of her office on business, came back again and after ushering us back into her office, she gave us our clothes back, telling us to change. Funny thing though, even though they were short pants and it was kind of nice to be allowed to wear them again and although I'd never admit it to Charley or any of my friends, let alone Miss, Davis or anyone like her, I didn't want to change out of my dress. Like me, Charley had to have help with the buttons at the back of his dress and since he happened to be closer to Miss. Davis and obviously a lot more in a hurry than I was, Miss. Davis helped Charley first, and while she was helping Charley, while I was struggling a little, trying to reach the buttons at the back of my dress, the telephone on Miss. Davis' desk rang. Miss. Davis spent a few minutes on the phone, enough time for Charley to get completely changed, but I still couldn't get at one or two of the buttons, and since Charley wouldn't help me, I just had to wait until Miss. Davis was done on the telephone. After hanging up, Miss. Davis sent Charley out on an errand, and as he fled the room Charley tossed his yellow dress over the nearest chair. Finally Miss. Davis came over to me and helped me get out of my dress, and while I was changing, Miss. Davis picked up the dresses and began to fold them. It took her about as long to fold the two dresses as it did for me to change, and after folding the dresses Miss. Davis then put them into the same brown paper bag Miss. Stevens had brought our regular clothes over in when she brought us back to Miss. Davis' office. Now that I was changed, Miss. Davis told me to take the bag and the two dresses back over to the girl's dorm. Funny thing, on the way over to the girl's dorm, when I was sure no one was around, and after looking around just to be sure, I stopped several times and opened the bag and looked at the dress I'd worn most of the day. Neatly folded, lying there on top of the dress that my friend Charley had to wear, it still looked a lot more like a shirt, a little girls blouse, and as puzzling as it was at the time to think about it, I actually thought about taking it out of the bag and hiding it somewhere so I wouldn't have to return it, so I could keep it to wear again sometime. Unlike the others in the art class that day, I knew I wasn't a little girl, and yet over the years I sometimes fantasized that if for whatever reason Miss. Davis or Miss. Anderson ever needed a little boy to help out with something in art class and you had to wear a dress while you were there, I wanted it to be me. - end -