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The School Orchestra by Emily Ross We had just finished rehearsal one Friday after school. Some of the orchestra members had already packed up and left. I was struggling with the catches of my violin case. Around me some girls were taking their time and chatting. They knew their parents wouldn't be there to collect them yet and were in no hurry. Miss Granger, the music teacher, who was our conductor came over to me. "Simon, I've got some bad news." I looked up at her from my violin case. "I've had confirmation today that only pupils at this school can take part in the National Finals, I am afraid you won't be able to play at the Albert Hall." "But, that's ridiculous," said Carly who was sitting on my left and had overheard, "Simon's been in the orchestra all year. We've been practising for nearly nine months. And the finals are in two weeks' time..." Jade who was sitting behind her butted in excitedly, "We can't play in the finals without our lead violin. We can't." "No-one else can be lead," said Rebecca who was on my right, "and there isn't time to practise everything without Simon." "I agree, girls," Miss Granger replied calmly. "Don't blame me. I didn't make up the rules. I'm only telling you what they've told me." "It's so stupid," said Carly. "Don't they realise that in the sixth form we share classes with the boys' school? Simon comes here for most of his lessons. Can't we just say that Simon is a pupil here?" "Not really, Carly," said the music teacher. "Have you forgotten we're called the Grangetown Girls' High School? I think they might spot something fishy." There was a little titter of giggles from some of the girls. "It's no good. We'll just have to withdraw." "Nine months work down the drain," said Rebecca. "Unless..." "Unless what?" asked Miss Granger. "Oh, nothing," replied Rebecca. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" asked the teacher. "I think so," said Rebecca smiling. The penny suddenly dropped as I worked out what her idea was. "Oh no," I said, "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, the answer's no. No, no, no." "Why not?" asked Jade. "It's only for one evening. No-one will ever know. Anyway I think you'll look great in a skirt!" I winced at the words. I didn't find it funny at all. "No." "You'll be letting all the girls down, if you don't." Carly added. "I don't care. I'd look ridiculous." "You'll be letting the whole school down," said Rebecca. "Won't you just try some clothes on and see how you look? If you can't pass for a girl, we won't say another word. Go on. I know how much appearing at the Albert Hall means to you." It did mean a lot but the answer was still the same. "No." Rebecca had one weapon left in her armoury. "Simon, what are you doing tomorrow night? Would you like to go out for a meal with me? Later we could go clubbing or take in a movie. But you must come round to my house first and try a few things on." It was one hell of a weapon too. Lethal. I hesitated. There was a deathly hush. I had fancied Rebecca for ages. I had asked her out a few weeks before hand but she had given me the brush off. Here was what I had been longing for, a chance to get to know her well and for her to get to know me. It would be the start of a beautiful relationship. All I had to do was put on a skirt for a few minutes. It didn't seem that much to do to win her hand. "All right," I said. "It's a deal." The girls all smiled. "Can you come round tomorrow about three?" "Sure," I said. "Now I must be off. Bye." I picked up my violin case and bag and walked away. I was elated that I going out with Rebecca but slightly anxious about the cross dressing. Supposing I looked passable. No that was impossible. As I left the hall I heard Miss Granger say to Rebecca, "We'll need to go shopping tomorrow morning." My parents laughed when I told them what I was going to do on Saturday afternoon and why. I didn't tell them the real reason, that is Rebecca's offer, I just said something about not wanting to let the girls down. Mom said that I was very committed. Next day when I left for Rebecca's house, I told them I'd be back late and not to wait up. Rebecca told her parents what would be happening too and they smiled when they showed me into their house the next day. "Here's the new girl then," said her dad as Rebecca came downstairs to greet me. I tried to seem casual and relaxed but inside I was a little apprehensive. What had I let myself in for? Well, it wouldn't take long - it would be over in an hour or so, I thought. "Come upstairs to my room," said Rebecca. I smiled. I hoped it wouldn't be the last time I heard those words. She shut the bedroom door behind us and started to explain what was going to happen in a very business-like way. "Right. First you want to get in the bath and shave off all your body hair." Help, I thought, I didn't realise it was this serious. "I've put a razor and some shaving foam by the bath, as well as a towel and a dressing gown. Miss Granger and I went shopping this morning. We went to this place that specialises in things to help men look like girlies." This was serious! She took something out of a carrier bag. "This is what you'll have to use to hide your dangly bits. It's called a gaffe. The instructions are inside the pack. Put it on when you get out of the bath, then put on the dressing gown and come back here." Yes, this was serious! I thought I'd just put on a skirt and a pair of tights, look like a bloke in a dress and we'd give up the idea as ridiculous. Rebecca, on the other hand it seemed, would stop at nothing to feminise me. Still I had agreed and we would be going out together this evening. She handed me the gaffe and a pair of white panties. Soon I was lying in the bath, my body hair all gone. I took out the gaffe and read the instructions. I wondered how it worked. I wondered if it worked. Well I knew soon enough as a few minutes later, I pulled the tapes between my legs. I really was flat. My body was beginning to look more feminine. I put on the panties and the dressing gown which was really a negligee. For the first time it occurred to me that I might have to go through with this. Strangely, instead of hating the idea, I actually felt a little excited by it. The negligee felt good as I walked back to Rebecca's room. On the bed she had laid out various items. She picked one up. "Put this on. It's called a waist-cincher. It'll give you a really waspy waist." I took off the negligee and pulled the new garment around me. It had ten hooks and eyes which I struggled to do up. "Are you sure this is my size?" I asked. Rebecca didn't answer but just helped me get the fastenings done up. Then she picked up two things she called breast forms. She put some special glue on my chest and stuck on these two shapes. "You'll soon have the perfect body," she said as she picked up a white lacy bra and slipped it over my arms. She did it up and adjusted the forms in the cups until she was satisfied. Next she handed me a pair of plain tights and I soon had them on and pulled up to my waist. Then she handed me a lacy white slip. As I put it on over my head she said, "Don't you just love petticoats? They're so feminine and I love the way they swish as you walk. You're very lucky because this is my favourite one." The next item was a stretchy white short-sleeved top that hugged my new figure and emphasised my bust. "Now the moment you've been waiting for," Rebecca said, handing me a bright red mini-skirt. I stepped into it and pulled it up around my waist. Rebecca helped with the zip and it fitted perfectly. It was short perhaps six inches above the knee but not too short. Rebecca smoothed it down over my backside and thighs, which I must say I enjoyed. "You're size 8 shoes, aren't you?" she said handing me a pair of shoes which were the latest style with girls my age. Fortunately they were not too high in the heel and of course they were my size. It wasn't a question. Rebecca had checked with my mom before she had gone shopping. I put the shoes on. They fitted all right but were not comfortable. But then they were hardly designed for comfort. I managed to walk in them, but only just. I was beginning to calculate how much Miss Granger had spent this morning. Still, that just showed how much the finals meant to her. "Now for some jewellery," Rebecca said, handing me a gold necklace and three bracelets. "That just leaves your face, nails and hair." Just. That's what she said. The final three pieces of the jigsaw must have taken well over an hour. Yet as the time went on I was beginning to enjoy my feminisation more and more. I liked the feel of the lace and nylon against my body and loved being pampered. First came the wig, which they had bought that morning as well. Shoulder length and dark brown, it itched but I soon got used to it. Then come the false nails, another of the morning purchases that were glued to my fingers and painted in a colour to match my skirt. Lastly the make-up which took the most time. Rebecca was a perfectionist and spent ages with the foundation, blusher, eye-shadow, eye-liner and lipstick. At last she was done. "Take a look in the mirror." I stood up. My heart was pounding. Earlier in the afternoon I had hoped that at this moment I would look too much like a boy and that would be that, but now I was wishing that my feminisation could continue. Please let me look all right, I thought. I looked in the mirror. Looking back was this vision, this babe with lovely clothes, legs to die for, great hair and a pretty, feminine face. "Wow," I thought trying hard not to let my enthusiasm show. Rebecca came up behind me and hugged me, looking at me in the mirror over my shoulder. "You look gorgeous," she said kissing my cheek. I had to admit that she was right. "Thanks," I said, "It looks like you will be OK for the finals." She kissed me again. "Oh! I must be careful or I'll ruin your make-up," she said. "Shall we go down and show mom and dad, Simon?" She paused. "I can't call you Simon looking like that. What shall I call you?" I hesitated. "I suppose Simone." "No, that's too similar. You're a different person now. I'll think of something. Are you ready to go down? And don't forget, knees together when you sit down." I took a deep breath and nodded. My mind was full of conflicting emotions: pride in my beautiful feminine looks, guilt at enjoying being dressed this way, anxiety about showing myself to Rebecca's mom and dad, relief at being able to appear in the finals after all, fear of being recognised and humiliated. I have never felt more self-conscious than when I walked across the landing and down the stairs. I was so aware of what I was wearing, I couldn't relax. I took deep breaths but everything kept reminding me of the unusual situation I was in; the awkward shoes, the swish of the petticoat, the tightness of the corset, the itchiness of the wig. I tried to be calm as I followed Rebecca. She opened the door to the lounge, went straight in, switched off the football results on the TV and announced, "Mom, dad, I'd like you to meet my new friend, Katie." Katie? Katie? A little bit twee. A bit girly. Well it could have been worse. I took a deep breath and strode into the room like I was on a catwalk. I focussed on the far wall and strutted over to the far side of the room, pirouetted and facing my audience, flung my arms wide and gave them my best smile. "Hi!" I said in a loud whisper. The room went quiet and the only sound was jaws hitting chests. "Simon?" asked Rebecca's mother. I nodded and smiled. "What d'you think?" asked Rebecca. "She's stunning," said Rebecca's mom. Note that. I was a she already. "Well, sit down, I'll put the kettle on for a cuppa." She stood up and left the room. I would be grateful for a cup of tea. Firstly all the efforts had made me thirsty. Secondly, I had spent two hours or so getting ready. I didn't want to get changed back straight away. Of course I couldn't admit that to Rebecca. The tea would at least delay my transformation back to Simon. I sat down, trying hard to follow Rebecca's advice about my knees but this couldn't prevent the short tight mini-skirt riding up my legs revealing acres of thigh. Did I say it was not too short? Well I was wrong. It was much too short - practically indecent. I grabbed the hem and tried to pull it down a bit. If I had any doubts as to whether I could pass for a girl, they were all lost now. I just had to look at Rebecca's dad who was sitting in stunned silence apparently staring at my legs and breasts. His tongue was practically hanging out. I made a mental note never to be alone in a room with Mr Walker when dressed as Katie. Rebecca passed me one of her magazines and said, "Perhaps you'd like to have a look at the fashions in there." A few hours ago I would only have looked at this sort of magazine to gape at the pretty girls inside. Now I had another reason and I started to leaf through the pages. Presently Rebecca's mom returned with a tray of tea. "I don't suppose you want any cake, do you?" she remarked, "now you've got to watch your waist-line." She was right though. No way could I eat any cake wearing this corset! I took the cup and saucer, refusing any sugar. I made a snap decision I would have to do without for my figure. We chatted about various things; how I was doing at school, the orchestra, our chances for the national finals. Time flew by. Then Rebecca's mom asked, "Have you sorted out a uniform? You know, for the concert?" Rebecca and I shook our heads. Rebecca's mom said we should go and sort something out. So the two of us slipped upstairs for me to try on some more clothes. Rebecca used it as an opportunity to touch up my make-up and then brush my hair. She looked in her wardrobe and found a pleated navy blue school skirt. "It's my spare," she said as she handed it to me. I undid the zip on my red mini-skirt, took it off and started to put on the school uniform. The skirt, which was slightly longer than the mini, was followed by a white blouse over my top, a school tie and a navy blue cardigan. I am sure that the headmistress would have been happy with my uniform if she could have seen me. Would she have said I was wearing too much make-up? I looked in the mirror. I'd always liked pleated skirts and the way this one flared out from the waist, making me seem very slim and very feminine. "Great," said Rebecca, "what do you want to do now? Change back to Simon, keep on the uniform, go back to the red mini or try something else?" Oh, decisions, decisions. I knew exactly what I wanted - to try something else, of course, but how could I dare admit it? " Well, if I am to be in the finals, the more practice I can get as a girl the better, I suppose," I said, trying to seem casual, "I've got quite used to being like this by now. What do you think?" "I don't really mind, Katie. You don't want to keep the uniform on unless you were thinking of going to a St Trinian's Party and on reflection the red skirt is a bit short, you little tart. Perhaps you'd like to try on a dress." "That sounds fine." Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in a black two inches above the knee dress, black stockings and suspenders. Yes, suspenders! And it was all my idea! When I saw the dress, I just came out and said, "It looks the sort of dress you should wear stockings with." Hardly had I said it than Rebecca had found a black suspender belt. Now I was again admiring myself in the mirror while she found some black shoes that had also been bought for me. It seemed a good job that all Miss Granger's money had not been spent in vain. Fortunately these shoes didn't have too high a heel - about two inches - and actually seemed comfortable, which is more than you can say about the suspenders. But all males like suspenders and I was no exception. The suspenders, bra and waist-cincher were all awkward but all made me look and feel feminine. I was just checking my seams were straight when Rebecca said, "Help, look at the time." "What time is it, then?" "Nearly a quarter to seven." "Already?" I thought but what did it matter anyway? "So. We're in no hurry," I said. "The taxi's coming at ten to." "Taxi?" "Yes. To take us to the Italian restaurant. I've booked a table for two for seven o'clock and a taxi to take us there at ten to seven. You hadn't forgotten had you?" "Dinner with you, Rebecca. How could I forget?" Rebecca had already stripped off her jeans and was sitting on the bed pulling on some tights. "I might just have time to get changed," she said standing up and pulling the tights up around her waist, "but I won't be able to help you change." She took off her top revealing a beautiful body. "I'm sorry, Katie, or is it Simon? You haven't got time to change back. Those nails alone take ages to get off. You'll have to come as you are." She was slipping into a little mini-dress and adjusting it in front of the mirror. I was slipping into panic mode. Now I know I said that I had secretly enjoyed this session as Katie, but this wasn't in my plans. It was one thing dressing like this in front of a few people; in the orchestra there would be safety in numbers and they'd know I was doing it for them. But going out in public? Anyway here I was about to go out with a beautiful girl for the first time and I had to go in drag! How could I kiss her in public if I got the chance wearing a dress? How could I expect her to fancy me? Still it wasn't all bad news. The dress I was wearing was lovely and fitted very well. Now I was nervously checking myself in the mirror. Could I really go out like this? My stomach was churning. Rebecca was fumbling in her jewellery box for a necklace so I looked over her shoulder and stole two more bracelets, an ankle bracelet and a string of beads. I was quite pleased with myself when I put them on. Rebecca was now fixing her make-up. She passed me some perfume, which I sprayed on my arms and neck; then she pointed at the wardrobe. "You'll need a jacket. And a handbag." I quickly found a white jacket, which I put on. I admired myself again in the mirror. Yes, I looked OK. I found my jeans and took my wallet and keys and transferred them to a black handbag. Rebecca passed me some make-up essentials to put in the bag. Now Rebecca was ready. She must have broken the world record for a girl getting ready. She looked stunning. The front door bell rang. She sprayed herself with her perfume and said, "Here goes. Are you ready?" I took a deep breath and nodded. I felt terrible. "Come on, then," she said. "Good luck." She kissed me on the cheek as a girl might kiss a girl-friend and headed downstairs. I picked up my bag and followed. Once in the hall she opened to the front door. "Taxi?" "Yes, we're just coming." The taxi driver headed back to his cab. Rebecca put her head round the door of the lounge, "Mom, dad, we're off. See you later." She put on a jacket hanging by the door and virtually pulled me outside. She opened the rear door of the taxi and climbed in, sliding over to the other side. I stepped in after her and soon realised my mistake as my dress rode up my legs. I tried to remain dignified and climb in as quickly as possible but anyone looking would have seen my stocking tops, suspenders, petticoat and possibly my panties. Rebecca was laughing all over her face as I pulled my dress down to make myself decent. "I don't think that's how you're supposed to do it! It's a good job there's no-one about. You must keep your feet together, put your arse in first, then swing your legs in. When you get out, put both legs out first holding the dress down, then climb out. OK?" "I think so." This was going to be harder than I thought. Now we were nearby there and close to my public debut as Katie. I was so nervous. The taxi pulled up. While Rebecca paid the cabbie, I climbed out of the cab carefully using her recommended method. It was certainly more dignified than before. Rebecca grabbed my arm to escort into the restaurant. "You've got to do all the talking," I said. She nodded, opened the restaurant door and led me in. "I've booked a table for two. Rebecca Walker." "Are yes, Miss Walker, table number five." Fortunately the place was nearly empty and no-one paid us any attention. I sat opposite Rebecca, all the time fascinated with her beauty. What did she think of me? I wanted to confess my true feelings but how could I tell her that I fancied her when I was dressed like this? Or that I enjoyed being dressed like this? I suspected that she might have guessed the former and hoped that she hadn't guessed the latter. The meal was excellent. Nothing untoward happened and my nerves disappeared even though the place soon filled up. We chatted quietly, the conversation flowing more freely as wine was consumed. The bill arrived and Rebecca picked up her handbag to find the money to pay. "What now?" she asked. "It's only ten to ten. Do you still want to go clubbing?" Clubbing? I'd forgotten she'd suggested that yesterday. Clubbing? I'd have jumped at the idea if I hadn't been... Clubbing? Dozens of young men leering at you. Clubbing? Getting your bottom pinched in a crowded room. Or worse. Clubbing? I'd seen it from the other side of the fence, the male side and I wasn't very keen on the other side. I was too shocked been to reply. All my nerves were back. Rebecca must have recognised my disquiet because she said, "Come on. Let's go and powder our noses and discuss what we're going to do." She put down some cash on the table and stood up. I followed to the ladies. She headed straight for the mirror, took some lipstick from her handbag and started to touch up her make-up. I moved next to her and copied. Suddenly she stopped, turned towards and said, "Katie, I've been dying to kiss you all evening." She put her lipstick down, wrapped her arms around me, pulled me towards her so that our breasts were rubbing and starting kissing me full on the lips. The kiss lasted about thirty seconds. Her hands were all over my back and mine were all over hers. Our lips separated. "What if someone comes in?" I asked catching my breath. "Who cares?" She pulled me towards her and our lips met again. Our tongues were exploring each other's mouth. She was feeling my arse and then hitching up my skirt, stroking my bare thigh above my stocking. It was gorgeous but I was in a state of panic in case anyone came in. The kiss ended. "Oh, Rebecca, that was such fun." "I know." "We are not really going clubbing, are we?" "No, I was only joking but I don't want to go home yet. Let's find a quiet bar for a drink." "OK" We redid our lipsticks, straightened our clothing and headed back into the restaurant, put on our jackets, said our goodbyes and hurried into the street. "There's a nice bar a couple of blocks away," said Rebecca. "This way." She grabbed my hand and we walked along, two girls holding hands. "Don't worry. There's no-one about." Of course she wasn't worried. She wasn't the boy dressed in a black dress, suspenders and stockings. We found the bar and Rebecca ordered the drinks. We found a quiet, dimly lit corner and sat a table. None of the other customers were close by. No-one seemed to have noticed us at all. "Rebecca," I asked, "do you really like me like this? As Katie? Wouldn't you prefer it if I was dressed as Simon?" "I like you as Simon but I like you as Katie." "Do you fancy Katie?" "What do you think? Have you forgotten those kisses? You're really very pretty." I could feel myself blushing. "You look great in that dress." "Thanks," I whispered. "I like wearing it." "Really?" "I thought I would hate it but I really liked it when you dressed me up this afternoon." "I liked doing it." "I was hoping that you wouldn't make me change back to Simon straight away. But I didn't want to have to go out on our first date as Katie. Still it's all worked out OK. I'm really looking forward to Katie's first orchestra practice on Monday. Oh, Rebecca, I fancy you rotten. Give us a kiss." "Not in the pub." "Only joking, now nip to the bar and get me another... what was it? Malibu?" Three or four drinks later we left the bar, hailed a taxi and headed back to Rebecca's house. I had been so careful getting into the cab. Rebecca looked impressed. "I suppose I've got to change back to Simon now and go back home." "You can stay the night if you like - in the spare room. Mom made up the bed for you earlier. She even put a nightie I there. She doesn't want any boys sleeping her house with her daughter in the next room!" So after a few goodnight kisses, I slept the night in the spare room in one of Rebecca's nighties. In the morning I dressed as Simon and walked home but only after Rebecca and I had made our plans for Monday. I told my mom and dad that the test had been successful. Mom seemed quite pleased but dad wasn't so amused by the thought of his son in a skirt. Still he cheered up when I told him that Rebecca and I were 'an item.' I didn't explain about my experiences on Saturday night though! The next day the orchestra assembled in the school hall after school as usual except my seat was empty. Miss Granger tapped her baton and everyone went silent. "Girls," she said, "I'd like to introduce our new lead violinist, Miss Katie Blandford." She pointed to a door at the back of the hall that led to an ante- room. The room opened and I entered the hall, carrying my violin case and dressed as we had arranged on Saturday - pleated navy blue skirt, white blouse, school tie, navy blue cardigan. Rebecca and I had skipped off our last lesson of the day and secreted ourselves in the ante-room. Here for the second time she went about transforming me into Katie. Just like on Saturday I was wearing the waist- cincher, bra, panties, tights and shoes; on my head the same wig, on my face the same make-up, on my hands the same nails. Just in time, I was ready for my next experience as Katie. Now I walked across the hall towards my seat trying to look feminine. As I got nearer the girls started to recognise that it was me. One of them wolf- whistled. Then another. Some girls let out loud whoops and others made some remarks. Some of them were applauding. I ignored them all and not looking any in the eye I sat down in my seat, got out my violin and started tuning up. There was still a hubbub of conversation and Miss Granger tapped her baton again. Once more everyone went silent. The practice went very well and everyone concentrated on what they were doing and not what I was wearing. At the end Miss Granger complimented the orchestra on their playing and dismissed us. Some girls came over to me on their way out to say hello or compliment me on my looks or comment on my bravery. One even asked if I was really Simon. Rebecca and I stayed in our seats until all the others had gone and Miss Granger came over to us. "Well, Simon," she said. "Not Simon, Katie," butted in Rebecca. "Well, Katie," Miss Granger started again, "what a transformation. You look lovely. I must congratulate you, Rebecca, on your powers of persuasion and your make-up skills. I've been talking to the headmistress. She thinks that to avoid the possibility of any last minute disqualification, you ought to enroll at the school as Katie Blandford and dress as Katie for the next two weeks until the Finals. I think she's going a bit far..." "Oh no, Miss Granger, we think that's a good idea," said Rebecca. Notice that - we. As if she had consulted me. "Then we won't have to waste time getting Katie changed for our rehearsals and it give her plenty of practice in her new role. From tomorrow it'll be Katie in the lessons and not Simon." So it was settled without any agreement from me. Mind you, I didn't mind that much. It had been fun getting changed this afternoon but I knew it would be difficult living as Katie even if only for two weeks. The next morning, Rebecca was round my house early getting me ready. I filled in the enrolment form and went to my first class in a skirt. It was strange. I didn't feel funny or awkward wandering down the corridors in my new school uniform. The only unusual thing was the admiring glances from some of the lads. Of course, it was all round the school about how a sixth form boy was dressed as a girl but no-one was any trouble about it. Perhaps they didn't know which one I was. The first week passed smoothly. Miss Granger bought me a second school uniform skirt - shorter than the first, tight and more flattering. It had a sexy little slit at the front along my right thigh. I liked wearing it too. Most days after school I went with Rebecca back to her house. She taught me about make-up and hair-styling. By the end of the week I was able to get myself ready and do my make-up without Rebecca's help. I could put my hair (OK it wasn't my hair, just my wig) into a bun, which looked very sophisticated and into pig-tails, which I thought looked cute. Three incidents of note happened that week. Firstly Katie lost her virginity or rather I did. On Wednesday after school Rebecca was teaching me about cosmetics. We were both still wearing our short school skirts. Well, her rubbing my face with her fingers excited me. Soon we were kissing. One thing led to another - hands up skirts, that sort of thing. Soon, she produced a condom from a drawer by the bed. She locked the door and we both took our tights and panties off. I undid my gaffe which was a huge relief as my manhood was trying to break free. It was all over in five minutes and we were gasping to get our breath back. So my first date and my first sex with Rebecca were dressed as Katie. The second incident was that I went shopping with Miss Granger and Rebecca after school on Wednesday. I had my ears pierced - my idea - and Miss Granger bought me a dress, two skirts and some underwear. I was being pampered and I loved it. It just seemed a little permanent. I had only agreed to be Katie until the Finals and now people were buying me presents. Would I ever be able to go back to being Simon? The third incident wasn't so enjoyable. On my way home from school, I had to go along a short, narrow footpath that we called the alley. Simon had walked along it twice a day for years. I hadn't even considered that it might be dangerous. After rehearsals on the Friday I was walking my normal route home, wearing the short, school skirt Miss Granger had bought me; violin case in one hand, black bag of school books over the other shoulder. It must have been about five o'clock. As I walked through the alley I first thought that I might be in trouble. I recognised four boys coming in the opposite direction. They were all in the year behind me at school. Their near-shaven heads showed that they were not exactly the sensitive intelligentsia. I knew their nicknames; Meathead, Stampsy, Tommo and Fists. Need I say more? They were the sort of kids who thought they were hard, usually because they attacked soft, easy targets. I began to be apprehensive that their next target would be me. Simon might have turned and run away at this point but there was no way I could run in those heels and that tight skirt. I would have to brazen it out. As I got closer to them, they stopped and stood four abreast blocking the path. I, too, stopped about five yards away from them. "Excuse me," I said politely. "I need to get through." Meathead, who was standing in the middle of the group and was obviously the leader of the gang, took a step forward. "You're Blandford, aincha? Simon Blandford, ain't it? Or is Katie nowadays?" He sneered as he said my new name. "Look at you, yer poof, you should be ashamed of yerself. What d'you think, Stampsy?" "He's a disgrace to the school," sneered his friend. Meathead came nearer and grabbed my tie by the knot, pulling me close to him. "Pretty, ain't she?" he said in a sneering sarcastic manner. I was off balance when he kicked my violin case violently, knocking it from my hand and onto the ground. He laughed mockingly. Now the others had moved to surround me, one on each side, the other behind me where I couldn't see him. Tommo snatched my schoolbag. I was powerless to resist. "I wonder what's in here," he said and tipped it upside- down spilling all its contents. Books, pens and make-up fell around our feet. "You're a boy," sneered Meathead. "Boys don't wear make-up." He spat at me straight in the face. I flinched. "You're a boy," Stampsy on my right gibed. "Boys don't wear tights." He lifted his foot and run his boot painfully down my shin, laddering my tights and scraping my skin. It hurt and I let out an involuntary gasp in pain. A tear formed in my ear. From behind me Fists said with derision, "You're a boy. "Boys don't wear Girls' High School cardies." He grabbed my school cardigan at the collar and ripped it off my body, throwing it disdainfully down with my other things. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. "You're a boy," sneered Tommo. "Boys don't have pony-tails." He grabbed one of my pony-tails that I had done so carefully and pulled off my wig. I screamed, "No," but it was useless. He threw the wig on the floor. "You're a boy," sneered Meathead. "Boys don't wear skirts." He bent down and with both hands grabbed the hem of my little skirt. He gave a violent tug. I let out a gasp as it pulled at my waist, tearing the button off and ripping the stitching at the back. The waist band disintegrated and Meathead let go. The skirt fell to my feet. One of them, I think Tommo, had picked up my lipstick and was writing 'cissy' and 'girlie-boy' on my blouse. "Boys don't cry," said Meathead as he gave me a little push on the chest. It wasn't much but I was as helpless as a leaf and I fell over backwards. "Come on, let's give him a good kicking," he said. I felt a boot in the ribs and another in the kidneys. I thought I was going to die. Then Tommo said, "Stop it lads. It's not right to kick a girl." Meathead grabbed me by the tie knot, pulled me to my feet and said, "Don't you dare come into school on Monday dressed like that. You're in for it if you do..." Then he turned to his mates. "Come on, let's go." They all ran off. I was shivering and crying. Standing in the alley with half my clothes off. Fortunately I wasn't badly hurt physically but mentally I have never felt worse in my life. I picked up the cardigan and put it on. I pulled up the torn skirt to try and make myself decent and held it in place with one hand. Then I picked up my belongings and my wig and put them back in the bag. My violin case didn't seem to be damaged. Then bag round my neck, torn skirt in one hand, violin in the other, I started to run. Tight skirt, silly shoes. Who cares? I ran all the way home. One thing was for sure. I'd be at school on Monday. And I'd be dressed like this. No way would I give in to them. No way. In fact, I wanted revenge. But how? Mom was really sympathetic when I arrived home my face a mixture of tears, sweat, saliva, dirt and make-up, my clothes torn. I told my parents my story. Dad wanted to go round their houses and have it out with their parents. "You're only doing this to help the school..." he said over and over again. Well, not strictly true. Mom wanted to go to the police and make a complaint. I wouldn't do either. So mom ran me a nice hot bath. "Perhaps you better dress as Simon for the rest of the day," she suggested. "No," I answered. "I need more practice if I'm to be totally relaxed at the Finals next week and no way will I give in those bastards. They won't stop me." "Well, perhaps I could buy you some school trousers tomorrow. That wouldn't draw so much attention to yourself." No, I thought. There's no point in being a transvestite and wearing trousers. "The girls' school doesn't allow trousers," I lied. "What about a long skirt? Calf-length." No, I thought. There's no point in being a transvestite and wearing a long skirt. "No," I said. "They're so impractical. They get in the way. I want to wear what I was wearing today and I want to put it on again after my bath." My pride wouldn't let me do anything else. "OK. I'll go and put that blouse in the wash and start mending that skirt. I'll soon have it as good as new." Moms know everything, don't they? Mine was no exception and she knew how much I wanted to wear the skirt Miss Granger had bought me in the Finals. Well I did - it was the shortest one I had. As I lay in the bath examining my wounds I was grateful that there was no real damage. The few bruises I had wouldn't show when I had my clothes on. I got up and found some of the nice new underclothes to put on. I felt better already. I was doing my make-up when mom came in. "I've managed to mend the skirt but the waistband was so frayed, I've had to take it up a bit. Then again, I don't suppose you'll mind too much about that." I smiled. She was right again, although it would be very short. "Oh and Miss Granger and Rebecca are downstairs to see you." I put my school uniform on again. God, the skirt was short. You could practically see my knickers where the slit was. Still if you got it, flaunt it, I say. Mom had phoned Miss Granger and Rebecca of course and they'd both come round straight away. Now I felt guilty for keeping them waiting. They both said how sorry they were and apologised for putting so much pressure on me to dress as Katie. They asked if wanted to stop and I said no. We agreed that I couldn't walk home on my own in future. Miss Granger said she'd give me a lift home and mom said she could run me to school. That made me feel better. I was exhausted and not long afterwards I made my way upstairs for an early night. The following morning I got up late. Mom and dad had gone shopping and I was the only one at home. I was dressed casually in a short-sleeved top and denim skirt and was just finishing doing my face when the front door bell rang. Should I answer it? I slipped on some shoes and went to the front door and looked through the spy-hole. There seemed to be a young girl outside, so I decided to open up. The visitor was a tall, slim, blonde about my age. Her make-up was a little tarty and she was wearing a short skirt and high heels. She was very pretty and I might have fancied her had Rebecca and I not been an item. "Hi," she said softly in a voice I could hardly hear, "you're Katie, aren't you?" I nodded. "You don't know me. I'm Lara. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?" "Sure," I said and led her into the lounge. She sat down on the sofa and I sat opposite. "Katie," she started as I sat down. "I said you don't know me but we have met before. Ever since last night I felt I had to say something." "Last night," I thought, "how does she know about last night?" Lara went on, "You see, Katie, I was there." Slowly Lara put her hand to her hair and pulled. Off came the blonde wig to reveal a close-cropped head. Then through all the make-up, I recognised the shape of the head. "Tommo?" "Yes," she nodded. "I'm sorry..." "You bitch," I screamed. "You could have killed me yesterday. And now you come in here all dressed up, pretending to be sympathetic. How do I know Meathead hasn't put you up to this? You're some kind of Trojan horse come to finish me off." "No. You've got it all wrong." "Get out, Tommo." I jumped up and dived on him, grabbing him, flailing about madly, scratching like a girl. "Stop it, calm down. You'll hurt yourself." Tommo tried to restrain me. He held my arms until I couldn't move. It was no good. "Look, will you please listen to me for five minutes."" "OK, Tommo. Five minutes." "Not Tommo, Lara. You know, like in Lara Croft." He'd named himself after a computer game. "OK, Lara, five minutes." I stood up and walked back to my chair, brushed my skirt over my bum and tried to sit down in as dignified and feminine manner as possible. "You don't know how good it's been to see you around school this week, Katie," Lara started. She smiled. "It made me realise for the first time that I wasn't alone, you know, the only boy who likes short skirts. It made me feel good to know that I knew someone else who was like me, transgendered. You're so brave." Lara seems to think I'm doing this permanently too, I thought. I asked, "So why did you beat me up?" "When I saw you in the alley last night my heart sunk. I knew what would happen but, I mean, I could hardly say, don't bully her because I like to wear skirts too. They'd have beaten me up as well. I've been cross-dressing for about a year and I've never told anyone, least of all Meathead." "But you joined in. You tipped my bag upside-down. And you pulled my wig off." "I'm sorry, but what would it have looked like otherwise? I had to, but I really hated myself for doing it." "And then you scrawled 'girlie-boy' on my blouse, when you're a girlie-boy too." "I know but I had to play along with them or I'd have got a good kicking too. I didn't hit you." "But if you'd taken my side. Two against three. My odds would have been better." "D'you seriously believe the outcome would have been any different." "I s'pose not." "Anyway, at least I stopped them when they were kicking you. I thought they'd kill you and we'd all be on a murder charge." "Thanks. I probably owe my life to you stopping them when you did." "I felt so guilty about it afterwards. I made up my mind last night to dress up and come and see you, this morning. I've never been out like this before, you know, en femme. I got up early, got dressed and slipped out before my mom and dad got up. I waited for an hour outside the house before plucking up the courage to knock. I saw your parents go out. I wanted to make sure you weren't still in bed. I want to turn my back on Meathead and those bastards but I need help. I can't do it on my own and I need a friend to help. Katie, please can we be friends? Like sisters. You understand what I'm going through. We've got a lot in common." "So where did you get the stuff from?" "My mom works for this charity shop in town. She sorts out all the clothes at home. I got the idea and borrowed some clothes and a wig, permanently like. Other stuff I borrowed from my sister and my mom. I've become a dab hand with the sewing machine, altering stuff to my size, taking up the hem." "What about make-up?" "It's mainly my sister's. I don't suppose she's noticed it's gone missing. I had to teach myself what to do. Does it look all right?" "Not bad for the first time out. It's quite funny to see someone all macho and hard like you in a skirt, but put the wig back on. It suits you. I could be friends. You're very pretty, you know, Lara." "Thanks," she said, putting the wig on. "Yes, I could be friends but only if you promised never to see Meathead again." "I promise." "And if you'll help me get even with him. I'd beat his brains out if only I could tackle him one to one." "Don't be so silly. We're supposed to be the weaker sex. He'd beat you to a pulp," Lara replied. I nodded. She was right. She went on, "If you want to get your own back, you'll have to be more subtle. Perhaps the two of us together could do it. Use our womanly charms. I thought that together we might be able to think of plan." "Any ideas?" I asked. "I have got one idea." "I tell you what. You can tell me while I redo your make-up." We went upstairs and I started to clean up Lara's make-up while she told me the plan. "Every Saturday Meathead goes to the Community Centre disco. Have you ever been? It's just a chance for lads to pull. By the end of the evening the car park is full of couples snogging, shagging, the works." I was putting some foundation on Lara. "Of course, Meathead thinks he's God's gift." "Keep your face still." "Sorry. He fancies anything in a skirt," Lara smiled, "but he's particularly partial to blondes, blondes in short skirts. Now what could be better than one blonde in a short skirt? Two blondes in short skirts, of course." I started to apply some rouge. "You mean the two of us should try to seduce him?" "Yes." "But I'm not blonde." "I've got another blonde wig stupid." "And?" "We go to the disco all dressed up to the nines. We arrive late, make a grand entrance and start dancing round our handbags. Within five minutes he'll be over with his chat-up lines." "What if he doesn't?" "Take it from me, he will be. He won't recognise us, of course. You better not call yourself Katie; you can be Suzie. I'll be Emma, OK?" "Yes, I'm Suzie." I was applying some eye-shadow to Lara's eyelids. "You're Emma." "We invite him outside." "Both of us? Kinky." "Exactly. He won't be able to resist. No bloke would turn down the chance of doing it with two girls." We carried on with our plans and I finished Lara's face. She did look pretty and very feminine. "Done," I said and Lara stood up. My school uniform was still on the chair where I'd put it when I took it off last night. "Hey, is that your school uniform? Can I try it on?" I didn't need to answer. Lara had already undone her skirt and was putting mine on. "It's nice. Very short. I like it." She was putting on my blouse and doing up my tie. She admired herself in the mirror, tugging down the hem of the skirt to try to make it decent. "Wow. I wish I could do my face like that. Will you teach me?" I nodded. "You're so lucky being able to go to school dressed like this..." "Is that what you'd like? To go to school dressed like that?" "I don't know. I don't think so. I like dressing as a girl, but I don't want it all the time. I like being a boy but occasionally I get the urge, the need, to dress. I like the idea of being able to choose." Then she said, "I'd better be going. Wish me luck. I'm going to face the music with my mom and dad. They're in for a bit of a shock." She changed back out of the uniform. We walked downstairs. In the hall I said, "Good luck, Lara, give me a ring this afternoon and tell me how it goes." I gave her a kiss on the cheek, girl to girl. I opened the front door and she was gone. I was very nervous for her. She phoned me that afternoon. It hadn't gone too badly. Her dad was a bit upset but her mom had complimented her on her appearance and said pointedly, "Better than being a skinhead." We arranged that Lara would come round my house that evening. Rebecca phoned and I had to lie to her and say I wanted a quiet evening in on my own after the experiences of yesterday. In truth I would have liked her to be there to help but I couldn't risk her being there and giving the game away. Lara called at about half past eight. I let her in the back door without mom and dad seeing and we went to my bedroom. She had brought a blonde wig and a sexy, short black dress. Soon I was wearing the dress and wig and had done my make-up. "Are you sure he won't recognise me?" "Certain. Anyway it's dark in there and noisy." Lara looked stunning in a short red dress. We slipped out and headed for the disco looking like two girls on a night out. We were two girls on a mission. At the disco we strode in, started dancing and sure enough, Meathead came over. "Hi," he said to me, "I've not seen you here before." Most original I thought. "I'm Dean. Would you like to dance?" So he doesn't call himself Meathead to his girlfriends then. "Sure. I'm Suzie. But only if my friend Emma can join in." "OK" We danced as a threesome. During the slow numbers Lara and I took turns in smooching. Thirty seconds each. Ugh! Smooching with Meathead. Still it had to be done. He was getting more and more aroused. After half an hour or so, Lara said, "Oh, Dean, I want you. Will you come outside?" Meathead smiled. "I want you too," I added. He smiled even more. All his fantasies seemed about to come true. We slipped outside. It was still warm in the summer air and a relief to get out of the noise and steamy heat of the disco. I was relieved but nervous of what was to follow. "Let's find somewhere quiet," said Lara and led us to a corner of the car park away from the buildings. It was dark and no-one else was about yet. Lara then started French kissing Meathead. "Ugh," I thought, "fancy doing that." Then I realised it was my turn. I shut my eyes and tried to blank what I was doing out of my mind. Meathead was very aroused. "Do you fancy some bondage, Dean?" Lara asked. Meathead really did think it was his lucky day. He nodded. Lara started peeling his clothes off, undoing his trousers and pulling them down. I helped removed his T-shirt. Very quickly he was standing there naked. I gasped when I saw his hard penis. Now, Lara was massaging it, turning him on more. Then she was French kissing with him. Now it was my turn. When we stopped Lara had produced some handcuffs from her handbag. "Right," she said, "I'll fix one hand to these railings here." Meathead let me fix the other cuffs to his other hand. He was chained to the railings, arms spread out wide. It was so much easier than I thought it would be, but Lara's plan was perfect. Now she was tying Meathead's feet to the railings too with some rope. He was standing there, open, aroused, hard and gagging for it. Lara stood up and grabbed my hand. Standing right in front of our prey, she pulled me towards her and started snogging me! This wasn't in the plan, I thought. Her tongue forced my mouth open. It was a good job that Rebecca wasn't here. What if she saw me now, snogging with another boy? And enjoying it. Lara's hands were sliding all over my bottom and under the hem of my dress. I did the same to her as the kiss continued. Meathead was even more aroused. Then Lara separated from me and looked at her watch. "Oh my God, is that the time?" she said in mock horror. "We've got to be going." We turned and without looking at Meathead, picked up our handbags and started to walk away, Lara ostentatiously putting the keys to the handcuffs into her bag as we left. He suddenly realised what was happening. "No," he shouted. "What about me? Don't leave me here. Emma, Suzie, come back." We left without even turning round. As we reached the street we could just about still hear his cries. Lara asked, "Will you walk me home?" I nodded and we both headed down a side street towards her house. We both burst out laughing about Meathead. Revenge is so sweet. "Do you think he knew who we were?" I asked. "Not a clue," said Lara, grabbing my hand as we walked side by side. Ten days ago the idea of walking a young blonde home, hand in hand, would have been very attractive. But now I wasn't so sure. Lucky there was no-one else about. I liked Lara. She excited me but was this what I wanted? And what about Rebecca? Now as we walked along she had her arm around my shoulder. And now my waist. We arrived outside Lara's house. "Do you want to come in for coffee?" We all know what that means. The lights all seemed to be off. Lara's parents must be in bed. Well it is quite late. "No, thanks. I'd better be getting home." We were standing by the front door. Lara opened it and stepped into the porch. I followed her in and she shut the door. It was nearly dark, the only light from the streetlights outside. "Thanks," she said, "thanks for a wonderful day." She moved towards me and kissed me. She dropped her handbag and started hugging me. Our mouths intertwined. We were French kissing and it was gorgeous. Lara's hands were pulling up my dress and were now pushing down my tights. I dropped my bag and was stroking her back as the kiss went on and on. My tights were down round my thighs and Lara was feeling down my silk panties. I was feeling very aroused as she felt between my legs and removed the tape that held my penis in position. My penis broke free and stood erect. Should I do the same for Lara? No, there was no need. She had managed to undo her restrictions without me noticing. I could now feel her hard on rubbing against me. The kiss continued unbroken. Our bodies were writhing, rubbing against each other. I had never felt so turned on. I was stroking Lara's arse and back, feeling between her legs. She was feeling between mine. Suddenly I felt all weak and came, my semen splashing all over my silk panties. Lara came too with a low moan. I pulled up my tights and pulled down my dress to make myself decent. What had I done? What could I say to Rebecca if she found out? Did I want to go out with her or did I want Lara more? How had I let myself get in this position? I mumbled something about better be going. "I can't see you tomorrow, I've arranged to go round Rebecca's." I said rather foolishly. "That's OK," said Lara, "I'm Tommo again tomorrow. I'm supposed to be meeting Meathead. It's OK, I'll tell him I don't want to be in his gang again. I can't wait to hear what he says about tonight!" She laughed. "Good night," I whispered. "Good night. You can keep the wig, Katie, it suits you." "Thanks. Good night." I opened the porch door and slipped out walking home as fast as I could in my heels. My mind was in turmoil. Did I want to be Katie or Simon? Did I want to go out with Rebecca or Lara? Did I regret my actions? I was still considering my thoughts when I got home. The next day I visited Rebecca, telling her nothing of the night before. I did tell her about my new transgendered friend Lara though. "Perhaps she'd like to come to the finals," she suggested, "as a supporter, like." I agreed to ask Lara if she'd like that. Tommo phoned that evening. He'd seen Meathead and said that he needed to concentrate on his schoolwork and wouldn't have time to go round with him much. Meathead told him how he'd shagged two slags at once in the car park at the disco. No mention of his predicament or how he escaped. However there were tell-tale marks on both his wrists. Tommo said he'd like to come to the finals. Nothing much has happened since. We've been rehearsing like mad for the finals. Of course, I didn't dare wear the short skirt to school this week. It's too short so I've worn the pleated one instead. I'm wearing it now. I've given the other one to Lara. She's wearing it at the moment sitting behind me on the coach heading for the finals. I don't know where she got the blouse and tie from but she looks just like a Girls' High School pupil. She says it's the first time she has dressed as Lara since our adventure last Friday. Do I believe her? Do I heck. Rebecca's sitting next to me. We're going to win the finals of course. So Miss Granger says. But then what? My duty as Katie will end? Will I go back to being Simon? Or can stay as Katie until next year's competition? I just don't know. (fin)