A Bag Of Rags free porn video

A true story A Bag of rags part one: Big brother's laugh There are many stories on this site, some fantastical, some obvious wishes, or fantasies, and some no doubt based on what the writer has experienced., this story is a factual telling of some of the times that I found myself dressing as the opposite gender. I haven't used names, because I don't want to embarrass anyone, particularly me. If I'm honest about it, after the initial incident, I didn't try to hard, not to be made to wear girls, or women's, clothes, or decided to by my own volition. I'm not turned on, or masturbate, when I first get dressed, but I do find the feel of the clothes rubbing against another woman's clothes very exciting. When I was young, and had first discovered the enjoyment of wearing girls clothes I even made myself feel ill with jealousy at a relations wedding, because I had to wear a horrible suit, replete with tie, and all the girl relatives were bridesmaids, it seemed that they were spoilt and wore lovely dresses. They complained about having to wear such frothy things, but I would have happily swapped clothes with them if only they had asked me. I would even have liked to be a pageboy, if I could have worn a kilt, and frilly shirt, but it wasn't to be. I digress, the first time that I dressed as a girl was when I was seven, during the school summer holidays. My big Brother, and I, had got bored one day, it was raining, and our next door neighbour, who was "A Bag of Rags looking after us" , basically she fed us, and we spent most of our time on our own; she had given us some old rags to play with, big brother, wanted to make some clothes for his teddy. Whilst rummaging through the box he came across an old girls' school summer uniform dress, it was a typical summer dress with a small green cotton gingum pattern, and a white cotton petticoat, which to my horror, he held against me, and reckoned they, would fit me. We were called round to the neighbour's house, for dinner, and he apparently had forgotten what he had said, because he didn't mention it again. The next morning, we had got up early because our mother insisted on us having breakfast before she left for work at 08.30,08.30; he thought we should play monopoly, there as there was a sun shower outside, with the winner able to dare the loser to do anything. The weather improved while we were playing, the sun had come out; it didn't take long, he won when I landed on Mayfair with a hotel on it. I had lost. The dare was to put on the dress and petticoat, with a pair of my lighter coloured ankle socks, and my Woolworths finest unisex, (that wasn't a word in use then), plastic sandals, then run round the house, from the front door to the back door, he would beat me up, if I refused. I knew better than to refuse, he was bigger than I was, and would win in a straight fight. I took my time, to answer, after all, he wanted me to wear girl's clothes, I couldn't think of anything more embarrassing, girls were like aliens, strange things that clung to their mothers, screamed, and cried for nothing, and he wanted me to dress like one. I reluctantly gave in, with my right arm being held up my back, while he threatened me, and accepted the dare. To spread the time out, I pretended not to be able to find my pale beige ankle socks, the nearest thing I had to girls socks, he found them though, so I took off the socks, and shoes that I was wearing, and put the socks, and plastic sandals on. He had a grin all over his face, as I removed my T-shirt, and shorts, and couldn't contain his laughter when he handed me the petticoat to put on. It had, what I now know to be, ?-inch broderie anglaise, running down both sides of the straps, and the 2-inch version around the hem, playing for time, I had to find out where the label was, but eventually pulled it on over my head. He made a big play of making sure that it was hanging properly. I felt really stupid, and vulnerable, stood there in this really girlie piece of clothing. Then the dreaded dress, but at least it would cover up the girlie petticoat. I was dismayed to find that it fastened up the back, but pulled it over my head, and pushed my arms into the little puff ball sleeves, the sort that only come down to your armpit, and puff out, between the shoulder, and the hem, which just about fitted around my arms. Again he made a big play of getting it right, before he buttoned it up, at this point I realised I was totally under his control, I couldn't reach around my back to unbutton the dress. He told me that I had to do the next part of the dare, or he would leave me dressed like that until Mom, or worse still Dad, came home. I argued about it, but I was trapped, and I knew that he would leave me dressed up. Slowly I walked to the front window, and had a look to see if anyone was about, it looked clear, and so heart in mouth, I opened the front door, and ran round the side of the house to the back door. The door was locked, which meant he had bolted it shut from the inside, there was no key, all the downstairs windows were shut, the toilet window, it was upstairs, but, I had climbed the down pipe to get in before, when I was locked out, was also shut. He, had followed me round, then he dropped the coupe de gras; he didn't have the front door key. I was outside, dressed as a girl, and had no chance of getting back into the house. Following an argument, about whether, or not, he had the key, and me bursting into tears, and having been told that I must be a girl, because I was crying like one, I eventually calmed down. We went onto the lawn, and kicked a ball about, he just had to rub it in, and he kept saying that I was playing like a girl. We had a large playing field behind the house, and some friends appeared, two boys, and two girls, wanting us to play cricket with them. We often played tip it, and run; boys against girls, and there was usually an argument about who should play with the girls, and we always bowled underarm to the girls, after all bunging a corky ball down at girls wasn't fair was it. "Are you a girl now?" they asked me, "No, I'm not," I replied, but there wasn't going to be an argument that today, I was dressed more girlie than the girls, who were both wearing shorts, as the only one wearing a dress, I was definitely going to be playing on the girls team. My brother explained with great amusement what had happened, and they decided that I should have a girls name to go with my clothes, so I became Jane; someone had been watching a Tarzan movie. I then had the ultimate insult, they insisted on bowling underarm to me, "just like the other girls". Surprisingly it didn't take long before I got used to running about with my skirts flapping about my legs, and being blown about by the wind, while I was standing still. The boys trying to look at my "knickers", by flicking up my skirt, wasn't fun though. I was beginning to feel as if I really was a girl, the clothes really felt comfortable. We had to stop for lunch or dinner as we called it then, and we had to go to our neighbours' house to eat, there was no getting out of it, we couldn't think of any excuse for me not going to her house. She smiled, and said that I looked nice, but she thought that we had wanted the cloth for sewing, not to wear the clothes. He gave her his version of what had happened, apparently, she believed him, but she had decided, and made an appointment, to go and visit one of her relatives, her daughter; phones weren't so common then, there was no way she could cancel it. Her other daughter had brought her car to drive us there, and we would have to go with her. She also thought I looked very nice, and worried me even more by asking whether her mother still had a cardigan, or one of her boaters, to go with the school dress, which would have made me look like a real schoolgirl. For some reason the walk to the car, at the front of the house, made me feel very scared, I thought the whole road, inclusive of some kids we hated, would see, and laugh at me, I was grateful at the time, that she didn't have a boater, but the cardigan would have at least covered up the sleeves. We arrived at the house, and my brother went off to play with her son, they all kept calling me Jane, as that is what my brother had told our neighbour was the name I had been given while playing cricket. My neighbour thought it would be less embarrassing for me if everyone treated me as if I was a real girl, rather than a boy dressing up as one. I was left with the women, and wound up helping to get the tea and biscuits, with everyone saying what a lovely girl I was. By this time, I was enjoying the fuss from the adults, something I never got as a boy. I think they were quite enjoying having a girl, all be it a pretend one, in the house. We got home, and my Brother magically produced the key to the house so we were able to get in before my parents came home, and he unbuttoned me. The next day he cut up the dress, and the petticoat, I felt very sick, as he destroyed the clothes, because I had enjoyed my time being a girl, and really hoped that he would make me wear them again. I had really enjoyed being a girl, he hadn't hit me once while I was wearing a dress, something that he did regularly otherwise, the idea that being a girl would be better, than being a boy, had imprinted itself on my Psyche. I started to dream of waking up as a girl, or at least being made to wear a dress. I had some action men, and made dresses for them to wear, so that I could play with my dollies the same way as girls did. If I had thought that, my parents didn't know, although my mother had painted my toenails, one day while she was doing her own nails. I found out different with the next time I got dressed up. It wasn't long afterwards, actually, it was my birthday in December, and we had gone to the works children's Christmas do. We went by coach, at least 12 of them, to a local theatre, for the Panto, and then back to the works club, for tea, which invariably turned into a bun fight, my best, only, suit, got covered in cream. My parents, and the parents of a girl who lived close by, about half a mile away, she was not one of the cricketers, decided to leave, and go to this girls house for a quiet drink, we got sent upstairs out of the way. She was a very good ballet dancer, not long after this she went to a Russian ballet school, and had a wardrobe full of tutus. Big Brother decided that he would like to see what she looked like wearing one; after all, she had to get changed out of her cream spattered party dress. She asked why should she. Moreover, what would we do for her, although she was obviously keen to show us? He said that I could wear one as well, and much to my embarrassment, recounted the story of the school dress. She agreed, but I had to change first, she was bigger than I was, but she had an old tutu that should fit. O.K. I didn't argue too much, this was better than anything I had dreamed of, well maybe not as good as being made to be a bridesmaid, but it was up there. It wasn't too long before I was resplendent in a pale pink tutu with white skirts,skirts; the skirts were sticking out sideways, a pair of her white knickers, pale pink tights, and a pair of white satin ballet shoes. She showed me how to fasten the ribbons, I was ecstatic, and didn't notice that big Brother, had hidden my clothes by this time. She went off to get changed into her all white tutu, she was a little bit quicker than I had been, and on her return tried to show me how to do some of the moves, which was fun, despite big brothers sniggering, and "encouragement". She could get on Pointe, I had no chance, but I managed to learn how to curtsy properly. I was just in a full curtsy, arms out and bent from the waist down to my leading leg, when my Dad opened the door, and came into the room, he had come to tell us we had to go home. Desperately I tried to hide, and went to grab my clothes, from where I had left them, but big Brother had hidden them, and even if I had been able to get to them, it was to late, I'd been seen. He made us go down stairs to show the other adults what we had been up to, and insisted that I showed how I could curtsy to each one of the adults, individually, as they were spread around the room. I didn't argue; I was scared witless, at what he might do, if I refused. They sent us upstairs while they decided what to do about it, big Brother had been sent to retrieve my clothes from upstairs, and they quizzed him as to the circumstances in which we had got changed. Satisfied that we hadn't got changed in front of each other, we were called downstairs, and both made to curtsy to each of the adults again, I didn't think that I could get more embarrassed. Then the bombshell dropped, they had decided that there wasn't enough time to allow me to get changed, we had to go home straight away, so I was told to take off the ballet slippers, and put my shoes on, to walk home. I stamped my foot, and said I wouldn't, to which my Dad replied just because I was dressed like a girl; it didn't mean I should act like one. Just to rub my nose in it further, he pretended that he thought I was refusing to take the ballet slippers off, rather than refusing to walk home wearing the tutu, and tights, and said that they weren't really the right thing to wear on a slippy footpath. Big Brother, had my clothes in a carrier bag, and said he was going to start walking home. I couldn't believe that they were going to make me walk home dressed like this, but they obviously thought that the embarrassment would stop me dressing up again. Reluctantly I unwound the ribbons, and took the slippers off; it was obvious that the only things, of my own, that they would let me wear were my shoes. You'll need this said our neighbours mother, and held out a girls gabardine Mac, most Mac's for people of my age fastened either way, and were black, this one was light blue, and only fastened on the girls side. I put my arms through the sleeves, thinking that at least it would cover up most of what I was wearing, only the bottom part of my legs, encased in the white tights should show, but the buttons, on the wrong side, only came down to the waist. The belt was level with the bottom button, and the tutu pushed the bottom part of the Mac up, all around, and at the front, it was open, and the skirts could be seen clearly. The wind blowing up the bottom of the Mac made it worse, even more of the skirt could be seen. This happened all the way, from the time that I stepped outside, until we got home. The fear of being seen, on one side, and the thrill and hope of being seen, and thought to be a girl on the other side, gave me vulture-sized butterflies. I was really surprised at how warm the tights were, compared to trousers, and had a warm, and excited, feeling inside, as my ballet skirt rustled, against the Mac, adding to the sensual feeling of the clothes. I really didn't want to get undressed when I got home, I loved wearing the tutu, and ran up to my bedroom, kicked off my shoes, and dived into bed, partly in the hope that in some magical way I would wake up as a real girl in the morning, if only I could wear the clothes all night. These things never work out the way you want, and I was made to undress, and put on my pyjamas, my lovely clothes were taken away. I did see them again, the next day I was told to take them back, so I had to carry them, in broad sight, they wouldn't let me have a bag, round to her house. The whole time that I was walking, I was scared that I would bump into someone I knew. Secretly I hoped that if I did they would make me get dressed up, I was also hoping that our friends parents would be out, and she would be in, so that I could get dressed up, and we could have another ballet session, or they would tell me to keep them as she had outgrown them. Unfortunately, all I got was the embarrassment of walking along with such feminine garments in my hands. I did get to wear a dress for a couple of minutes, when my mother made me put one of her homemade dresses on so that she could do the hem. It didn't strike me that she couldn't possibly get it right by doing it on me. I think that wondered if she really wanted a daughter when I came along. She used to paint our nails as well when we were young. My brother was responsible for the next time as well, we had gone to a friend's house, and she had a paddling pool in the back garden, again there were no adults about. I had rolled up the legs of my jeans, and taken my shoes and socks off, to have a paddle; she was wearing a bikini, and asked if I wanted to borrow one. She was about the same size as me, I said no, but of course big Brother just had to tell her what had happened previously, I still said no, well you have to don't you, hoping that she would continue to try to talk me into it, yeh right, as if she could fail. Big Brother wasn't going to wait, he simply picked me up, and dropped me into the pool, and I was soaked. I had no choice but to hang my clothes out to dry, tumble dryers weren't about in those days, I was to far from home to be able to walk there, soaking wet, and as ever, he had the key. She offered to get me a cossie, so that I could, hang my clothes up, naturally I expected a pair of bikini bottoms, so I undressed in the shed, so that the house didn't get wet, and big Brother kindly hung them on the line, at the furthest point from where I was. She reappeared with the cossie, it wasn't bikini bottoms, but a full one-piece costume, red with white piping around the arms, and neck, and a little white pleated skirt that would hang from the hips, a real little girls costume. I didn't have any choice did I, my soaking wet clothes were at the other end of the garden, and I was naked. The cossie was on, and I was out to play. The wet skirt around my legs, and the wet body felt strange at first, but I soon got used to it. I didn't pay any attention to the time or whether, or not, my clothes were dry, I was enjoying myself, and I was able to be a girl again. Inevitably, her mother came home, and big Brother lied through his back teeth again, saying that I had tripped, and had to put my clothes on the line to dry. When she asked why I hadn't been offered some of the girl's clothes, to wear, the answer was simple, a cossie was better to play in the paddling pool. She seemed satisfied, with the explanation, although she did mention that I had got sunburnt, and it would show what I had been wearing, and went back into the house. I felt good that I had a girl's suntan, and my imagination went into overdrive, maybe she would offer me a dress or a skirt to wear, but it wasn't to be. We had to go home, and she said that I could leave my clothes there to dry. I got a pair of navy blue knickers and a girls white T-shirt, that had a bigger neckline than boys do, and shorter sleeves, that pull in at the hem, so that they puff out. I didn't get a skirt, I got a pair of girl's jeans, they fastened up on the opposite side, but it just wasn't the same. I was really disappointed, I don't know if anyone noticed. She let us stay for tea, in the hope that my clothes might dry out, but it started to rain, so she said that I could pick them up anytime. She then went on to ask if we were going to the children's exhibition in Birmingham, at the old Bingely Hall, because the girl had no one to go with, and would have to go on the bus. We asked how much it would cost, it is free said the girl, only if you are a girl, and wearing school uniform said her mum, it will be so much on the bus, and so much to get in for each of you. I forget how much, but it wasn't a lot, apparently, the chance of getting some money sent the cogs in brother's head into gear. She rang our parents, explaining what had happened, and asked if we could go, giving them the details, we had to be dropped off at her house the next morning, and then she would come home at 10.00 to take us to the bus stop on the other side of the town. My mother said she would wash the clothes I was wearing before sending them back. 08.00 The next morning we arrived at her house, she was wearing her school summer dress, a pink gingum pattern, although it wasn't as girlie as the other one I had worn, and fastened up the front. Big Brother, had already told the girl about his idea, suggested a game of cards, strip jack naked, with a twist, of course, the losers had to pay a forfeit. I don't know how he managed it, but I only won when the girl lost, so I was collecting her clothes in a pile, and he said that you couldn't use the clothes that you had won to pay up if you lost. Eventually two of us were nearly naked, I only had my pants, and she only had her knickers on, he was almost fully dressed, she had won the clothes that he had lost. The rule for this is that if I win you both lose, and have to swap knickers and put on the clothes that you have won. O.K. she said, and what if you lose, you both get your clothes back, needless to say he won, we both stripped off, it wasn't as bad for me, she had seen me naked the day before. She grabbed my clothes and ran out to her bedroom. I got dressed up in her school uniform. The white petticoat was quite plain, but I did get a pair of navy blue knickers, a pair of knee high white girl's socks, and a navy blue cardigan. We took the same size of shoes, so I had a pair of girls' school shoes, which had slightly higher heels than I was used to. The opening for the foot was bigger, the tongue didn't come up the instep as far, the laces were lower on the foot than with boys' shoes, and also the back around the heel was lower than on boys' shoes. She seemed to take an age to come down, and I noticed that the time was getting very close to 10.00. The girl came down the stairs just as her mother came through the door, how were we going to get out of this, she would be wearing my clothes. The door opened, and in she walked, dressed in an identical fashion to me, but wearing a blue version of the dress I was wearing, apparently, they had a choice, followed by her mother, he's paying a forfeit she told her mother. Well if you want to mess about when you know there isn't time to, you will have to pay the price, come on get into the car, we don't have any time to spare, and I'm not losing time at work for nothing. As I got near the door, she stopped me, now my hair was due to be cut before we went back to school the following week, it was short for a girl, but long for a boy, somehow she managed to put it into pigtails either side of my head, and then tied ribbons in bows on to them. She gave me a purse, one with a long strap that schoolgirl's have to put my spending money in; the girl had taken it out of my pocket. The dress didn't have any pockets. If you want to be a girl you might as well look like one I was told, how did she know, I blushed, I could feel my face tingling. She took us to the bus stop, and left us there. We just about caught the bus, it was pretty much packed, but there was a boy, sitting on a double seat on his own, an adult made him stand up, it would be rude not to give his seat up for us. "See being a girl isn't bad is it"?? the girl said, I didn't reply. When we got into the exhibition, big brother said he was going off to the boys section, taking my entrance money with him, and we could meet up for something to eat later, he didn't want to hang around with two girls. We actually had some fun, going round the girls section, and had a good giggle about the sad boys standing by the fun house watching girl's skirts blow up, we decided to go round, again the idea of them ogling up a boys skirt tickled us. We went round 4 times before the boys were moved on. Brother caught up with us, he had got bored on his own, so we made sure that we stopped and looked at every store to do with girls, by this time I was thinking how stupid boys were, they missed out on things that girls can do, I was happy, I was a girl. We had something to eat, and then went on to the fair, don't forget to scream I was told, this was great, I just screamed when she did, it was more fun than trying to look as if you weren't scared. We caught the bus home, and when we reached our stop the girl's mother was there, to take us home, she had my clothes in a bag, and was going to collect the ones that I had gone home in the day before, and was wearing at the time. She was going to take me home, and it was still daylight, "Oh No". It wasn't that bad, big Brother got the smack for keeping my entrance money, but I had to get changed straight away, and my clothes were taken away by the girl's mother, who said she had some washing to do anyway. I was disappointed; I thought I might get another chance to wear them. Two days later I cut my foot open in a public paddling pool, some git had thrown bottles into it, we hadn't noticed through the murky water, and I was whipped off to hospital. The nurses were really nice to me, and I was entranced by their uniforms. They were the nice old style ones, in different colours, with a cotton pinafore, seemingly held up by their badges, and fob watches, a thick belt with large silver buckle around the waist, and white puffed out cuffs on the sleeves, with a frilly cap on their heads, and black seamed stockings. I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up, and what I wanted for Christmas. I asked for a nurses set, there were some nice ones with a dress in them, but I got a doctors set instead, and it only had a red cross thing to put on your arm, a girl I knew wanted to be a doctor, but got a nurses set, if only I had the nerve to swap. That was the last time that My Brother did anything like that to me, and like so many other boys in my position, I had to make to with "borrowing" my mothers things. If only I had a sister, or better still been a sister. In fact my mother managed to really upset me, one day when we had a row, by telling me that I was a mistake, in the first place, and I wasn't even a girl to make up for it. She didn't try to hide her disappointment at not having had a girl after that. I don't know how much that reinforced my wish to be a girl, just so that I could please her. I went to senior school that year, when I got the letter to say I had passed it was addressed to Miss, instead of Master, and the clothes it said to buy were those for a girl, as it happened I didn't get a girls uniform. When we got into the classroom on the first day, I was allocated a desk with the "other girls", there were 21 girls, and 9 boys, the other boys were sat with each other, I was sat in the middle of a sea of navy blue skirts, and cardigans, wearing my maroon blazer. Oh how I would have liked to be wearing white knee high socks, a navy blue pleated skirt, and navy blue cardigan, like the girls, rather than my long grey trousers, and maroon blazer. Bag of rags Part 2: The school days. We moved away, to the west country, and I started a new school, I had tried to alter an old dress my mother had thrown away, so that it would fit better, but she had found it, and thrown it away, but never said anything, I guess they knew that I wasn't going to grow out of it. I was being bullied when I first went there, Black Country accent you see, until I laid a lad out with a lucky punch, and proved my worth as a cross-country runner, and on the rugby field. I was banned for life from the school rugby team at my previous school, after being sent off for a punch up in the middle of a scrum. I wanted to be treated as well as the girl who had joined the school, at the same time; she just seemed to slot in with the other girls, yet another reinforcer in my wish to be a girl. It wasn't long before I moved school again, this time northbound. Big brother left home, and stayed in the West Country, and I discovered that I was going to be in a school packed with suede heads, the follow on from skinheads. I knew I was going to be thought of as different, although there was more of a thing between the people born in the town, and those shipped in from the big city, in slum clearance. I found that I could get on with both sides. I let my hair grow, it was longer than many of the girls at the school, but I was able to get away with it, and confused people because I had a Lambretta scooter, and with long hair, they thought I should have a motorbike. I was lucky, one day; we had extra training on a Sunday for a Lands End to John O Groates charity run, run for charity which had been planed. I hadn't been there long, but they soon added me to the squad. The day before training, the girls had commandeered our changing room, because of a big sports day, and someone had left a school skirt behind. I didn't have a chance of picking it up then, but made sure that I was in school early the next day, and was able to pick it up, stick it in my bag, and get it home. It was navy blue, pleated all the way round, and had small pockets on either side, let into the pleats. Better yet, it fitted, and fell just above the knee. I was in heaven, and soon I was wearing underwear, Bra, knickers, waist slip, and barely black tights, belonging to my mother, My shirt, tie, and blazer, and my newly acquired skirt, with my hair combed and parted down the middle, and a spot of lipstick I looked brilliant, every inch a sixteen year old schoolgirl. The only problem was that I couldn't go out looking like that, at least not in the daytime. I had a tent which I put up in the garden, and spent the night in it, I made sure that I had my skirt, and women's underwear, and was able to get changed, and went for a walk down the road. The dream came to a sad end, when I had dressed one day, and my parents came home unexpectedly, they saw me as I ran up the stairs, and I dived into bed pretending to be asleep, when I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. The covers were thrown back, and there I was, a son dressed like a daughter. They made me go downstairs to explain what was going on. I tried to explain, but couldn't stop crying, this was a Friday night, and usually I would be going out, but I was grounded, and they said that I would have to do my weekend homework sitting downstairs where they could see me, and I couldn't get changed until I had finished it. All right it was embarrassing, but enjoyable, in my mind I was a schoolgirl, doing her homework, I had to finish it all before I would be allowed to get changed, yes I took my time, and it ran over into the next day, when it seemed to dawn on them that I was happy about it. I was hoping that they might have made me dress like that to do my homework, for a week, a month, or better still always, it wasn't to be. Rotten so and so's took the skirt off me, and searched my room for anything else, so I was back to square one, no clothes that I would like to wear. Strangely enough I got one of my best ever marks for that work, which I proudly showed off, but they didn't take the hint, that it would be better if I always dressed like a girl to do my homework. Relief came not too long after. I was sat in the sixth form common room, with some friends, Friday at lunchtime, and they were showing photo's round of two of the lads dressed as girls at a school summer fete, just before I had come to the school. I extracted the urine a bit, to which I got the inevitable longhaired yak, and one of them passed a comment that with my hair I always looked like a girl anyway, if only. Laughing it off I went to a lesson I had two periods that day, with a gap in between. They started to plot. I returned to the common room, after the first period. I was about to moan about old so and so the teacher, I couldn't stand him, when I was grabbed, and dragged into a storeroom. The common room was made up of three old prefabricated classrooms, I was debagged, everything off down to my underpants, and they went off with my clothes, and shoes. Not long afterwards they came back, with a girl, about the same size as me, I didn't really start to grow until I was 18, I hit puberty later than most, my voice hadn't broke, and was more like a low end girls, than a high pitched boys. Most of the girls, even without higher heeled shoes were taller than me. She was wearing my clothes, and came into the storeroom to help me get dressed, practical jokes were the norm, so I just laughed and told them not to be daft, besides I had Maths last period, with old misery guts, so they had to give me my clothes back. They said they would, but only after, I had dressed as a girl. Reluctantly, only on the outside, I couldn't admit that I wanted to, could I? Inside I was thrilled, I allowed her to put her bra on me, and stuff some tissue in to make a pair of small tits. She didn't want me to snag her tights, so she rolled them up, and guided them up my legs, now that really was great, I stepped into her shoes, which were slip on's, and had a thick 2 inch heel. Next was the white cotton blouse, it had long sleeves, but fitted my arms well, the collar was rounded, and there was no top button, so the neckline made a V. I stepped into the waist slip, a white satiny thing with a nice 1 inch band of lace round the bottom, but was a good six inches above the knee, and was a tight fit, all the way down. She pulled my blouse out, so that it was above the waistband of the slip, and then I stepped into her skirt. It was maroon, short, and straight, with no pleats or vents. I had suggested the maroon, because they wanted a different colour for sixth formers, and the girls had liked the idea. I had to tuck my slip down, and wiggle the waist band over my hips, she fastened it up at the back, and I had to lift up my skirt to get the slip in place correctly, to many wolf whistles. My skirt only just covered my slip, I hadn't worn anything this short and revealing before, I pulled on the matching maroon cardigan, and it was job complete. We opened the door, and walked out. I thought that would be it, but no I had to be made up, not to much we were at school, pale pink lipstick, a little pale blue eye shadow and black mascara; my hair was girlied up, plaits on each side of my head. Again, when we finished, I thought that would be it, but they decided it was time for a cake, and coffee, at the shop over the road. I said no I wasn't going, but with a lad on each arm, and one behind me, I got dragged into motion, well it's not easy to dig your heels in, with those sort of shoes. It surprised me that no one mentioned how easily I was able to walk in them. I let them take me across the road, and went and sat down, with the other girls; after all, I didn't have any money with me. The girl who had my clothes wasn't there, I asked why she hadn't come, and was told that she was going home because she didn't have any more lessons that day. I thought they were joking. It was getting close to my lesson time, so I said that I had to go, they all decided to come with me, obviously they thought that the moment when I realised they weren't joking, was going to be too good to miss. We got back to the common rooms, the first thing I noticed, was my parka was missing from the coat hangers. The second was my Maths teacher, who had dropped in to make sure I wasn't skiving, and had been told that I would be back before the start of the lesson. I explained what had happened, and that my clothes were heading six miles up the road to a village., tough he said, you still have to come to the lesson, or your parents will get a letter. I went with him to the classroom, to much laughter when we arrived. The initial embarrassment soon subsided. I loved the chance to be a girl too much to be overly bothered by it. Now in those days, teachers always called boys by their surname, we even used them with each other, but the girls were always called by their first names. He just had to join in, and call me by my first name, and even pointed out that it wasn't a very good name for a girl, so he used my middle name, which could be used by girls, and boys, it is just spelt differently. I probably was asked more questions in that one period, than I would have expected in a month. At the end of the lesson, he made me stay behind; he actually congratulated me on my good sense of humour, and pointed out that my slip was showing. He was concerned at how I was going to get my clothes back, as he thought going on the bus could be dangerous, and offered to drive me there. My opinion of him changed, I thanked him, but I said I had my scooter to go on. He came back to the common room, because he thought that I might not have the keys, if she had left them in my pockets. I found them, in her afghan coat pocket, which obviously had been left for me to wear. I put it on, covering up a bit more of my legs than the skirt had done. Riding a scooter wearing trousers, is very different to riding wearing a short tight skirt, I had to stand on tiptoe, despite the high heels, to try and get my foot on the pedal to kick start my bike, because the skirt was too tight. I couldn't do it properly, so one of the lads who had been involved, and who was coming with me, because his girlfriend, also involved, lived next door to the girl whose clothes I was wearing, came over muttering about bloody girls being useless at this sort of thing, and did it for me. Wearing a tight skirt meant that I could only put a foot down on one side, and had to slide my bum to that side every time I had to stop. I don't know what scared me most, someone recognising my bike and helmet, or coming off, and going to hospital. We got there safely, and I managed to slide off the seat, and get it on its stand, without dropping it, and went into the house. She had changed into her own clothes by the time we got there, and opened the door to let us in. I was expecting to have to go and change as soon as we went in, but was initially pleased as she shooed us into the front room of her house. Her mother was home, sitting in the room, her parents were divorced, and she was an only child. I froze, my fight or flight reaction, had overloaded, I was comfortable wearing the clothes, I wanted to keep on wearing them, and hoped that everyone thought that I was a girl, but this was a big shock. Take your coats off, and hang them up, then you, she said pointing at me, come in sit down, and tell me your side of the story, why my daughter turned up for an appointment, dressed like a boy. I was still frozen to the spot, considering running for it, but there was nowhere to go. Her mother came over and took my helmet, out of my hand, unbuttoned my coat, then took it off and hung it up; I was still frozen to the spot. A tear had rolled down my face, she got a tissue, and dabbed it, saying I was making my mascara run, then took my hand and made me sit down. Cross your legs dear, you don't want people looking up your skirt; that is the trouble with wearing a short skirt. I just did as I was told. Look I'm not angry with you, I was upset at first, but you have obviously been in a worse state, she told her daughter to get us tea and biscuits, the lad, who had come with me, started to tell her the story, and his girlfriend arrived while he was telling it, and backed up everything he had said. She was really nice about it, and even rang up my parents to say that I was staying for tea, and would be back later, or if we went out the next day. The cup of tea, and her attitude, calmed me down, and I was able to talk, she asked me how I had felt, when I was laughed at, and was treated like a girl. I didn't say anything, but she was sharp, she noticed my body language, and suggested that I help her get tea ready, she told the other three to get lost; she knew I wanted to say something. They went next door to get some records. She was to the point, and asked me outright if I wanted to be a girl. Yes, I said, surprising myself, I had never met this woman before, and yet I was able to admit my deepest held secret without a thought. I felt better for it, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and told her about how it started, and my brother, she had a big brother, and agreed that they were horrible. We made a pact that she wouldn't make me get changed until later, when I told her how I always felt bad when changing back to my horrible boy's clothes. The other three had arrived back with the records, and gone upstairs to play them. We took the sandwiches we had been making, and a fresh pot of tea into the front room. Teas ready Girls, she yelled up to them, emphasising the Girls. I had my plateful, and drink, and was sat down, with the plate on my lap, knees firmly together, as I had been told to. The girls came down, and the lad hung about by the door, yes I'm including you, I aught to insist on you wearing a skirt, then you would fit in with the rest of us, all girls together, but I'll let you off for the moment. He visibly paled, I think he thought that she was going to get him to get dressed up, and made an excuse to leave. Something like going out with his parents. She asked him if he would be a dear, and push my bike into the garage, which he agreed to do. Right then girls, who wants to go to the pictures, there is a nice weepy on, yes they both said. O.K., that includes you, she said looking at me, you will have to get changed; you can't go in school uniform can you? I'm sure we can find you something to wear. This was great she was treating me as if I was a girl. The penny dropped, with the girls, I only had the girls' uniform that I was wearing, and my boy's uniform, so I had to get changed into a different set of girls' clothes. She went upstairs, and came down with a pink dress, and a petticoat, and clean underwear, a pink matching set of Bra, Pants, and Petticoat, all had matching lace trims, although it was bigger on the petticoat, at least three inches thick round the hem, and a pair of white tights. She told the girls to go and get ready, and went out to the door with them, leaving me to get ready. I heard some giggling from behind the door. I started to get undressed, excited that I was going to go out in public again, and had got to the stage of having my Bra, Pants, Petticoat, and tights on, with a pair of powder blue sandals, that had a narrow 11/2 inch heel. I practised walking in them, and found that I was able to walk very easily. The door opened, and the mother walked in, she had got changed, and was wearing a smart trouser suit, and very comfortable looking flat shoes, she came over, and helped me pad the Bra out to a better shape, and helped me get into the dress, which came to just above the knee, zipping it up the back. The lace on my petticoat showed up when I moved, she didn't tell me that until later on. She gave me a little black short sleeved cardigan, with mother of pearl buttons, it wasn't made to be fastened, just to cover the shoulders, and there was a gap between the two sides at the front, it emphasised my boobs. To finish it off, I had a handbag, which matched the shoes. She wasn't happy with my plaits, and undid them, brushing my hair out she quickly put it into a single plait, which she then turned into a bun, on the top of my head, and put on a blue scrunchy to keep it in place. Then she topped up my make up. I was wondering where the girls were while this was going on, Oh the other girls are in the car, she said, emphasising the other, and added that we had better use my middle name, when we were out. So all prepared, she reminded me to pick up my handbag, which had all my money in a little purse inside it, as well as some extra make up. Happily I walked out to her car, I didn't care if I was seen, I was sure that I looked 100% female. The girls were sat in the back seat of the car waiting for us; she opened the passenger side door for me, and reminded me about sitting down in a skirt, and how I should get into the car. I got in shut the door, and did up my seatbelt, she got in, belted up, and started up the engine, and pulled away. You look terrific the Girls said. I turned round to return the compliment, but my mouth dropped open, and I turned back to face the front. I quickly managed to recover from the shock, they were both wearing jeans, with floppy Indian cotton tops, and as I found out later flat shoes, and socks, I, the only male, was the only one wearing high heels, and not wearing trousers. The birthday girl has to have the prettiest dress they explained, it's not my birthday I said, you weren't a girl yesterday, you are today they said, no I'm not I said, you are as long as you're dressed like that said the mother. We watched the movie, it was sad, and with not having to stick to the boys don't cry thing, I was as bad as the other three, with my mascara running down my face; I couldn't have hidden it anyway. We cleaned each other up, licking tissues and wiping the mascara away, then walked back to the car, and went back to their home. I had to get changed out my lovely clothes, and the girl from next door went home. I borrowed a nightie for the night. After cleaning off my make up, I left my hair in place, and had a cup of hot chocolate before going to bed. I heard my friend go to her room, and then her mother came in to see if I was all right, yes, thank you, I said. Not too upset, at the thought of being a boy again? She asked. Yes, I said, but I'm stuck with it, aren't I? She never mentioned it when I went round to her house after that time, which always left me sad, as I would have loved to talk to her about it, and hoped she would ask me to dress up again, I couldn't seem to get the conversation around to it. My next interlude in a dress was on stage, well I also dressed up before that time, to get the dress right. Three of us used to take the Mickey out of the Supremes Baby love, and it got to be known throughout the school that we were good at it. The year below us were putting on a spoof of Cinderella, and they asked us to be the ""act"" at the ball, Diana Flop, and the Pukecreams, no less. We had a rummage through the old stage props, and came up with three dresses; Diana flop was a big built hairy chested rugby prop type. The only Girl was short, and chubby, and I wasn't very big, but had the best figure. The lad playing Diana, had a very heavy strapless black sequined dress, that had a full circular skirt, and loads of pink lace underskirts, to fluff it out, his hairy chest stood out. I wouldn't have minded wearing it, but it was too big for me. We had found two hideous long cotton dresses that were Banana yellow, with brown spots sewn over them that we could wear, god knows what they had been used for, but they did need a bit of altering. We did this at the girl's house, so I had to get changed, if only for a short time. Her mother found us, and stepped in to do the work, so I didn't really get much chance to enjoy it. We didn't get a chance to see what she had done, until the day of the Panto. Now I was a bit stuck, as I was the only person in school at the time who knew how the stage lights worked, the teacher who used to do it had moved on, and the only other lad that knew had gone to University, the switches and sliders weren't marked so I had that job as well. My dress had been turned into a mermaid dress, typical Supremes, tight fitting all the way down, then flared out with net, she had sewn a large set of falsies into the bodice, at least a D cup, shame I didn't get to wear any girls underwear. She had made the other one straight but with a split down the side. I was made up, and my hair backcombed, and then I was transformed into a buxom woman. I had a pair of tights, but no other female underwear, and a pair of silver coated women's' sandals, with a three inch stiletto heel. I'm going to say this only once, "Don't try this at home", no I mean it. To do the lights, I had to climb up a steep ladder, which meant that I would have to go up and down at least 3 times, wearing an almost skin tight skirt, and a pair of silver coated sandals, with a three inch stiletto heel. I discovered the only way was to jump up each step, with my feet together, because I couldn't get my leg up on its own, and the dress was to tight to pull up, so I went up, and did the lights up until just before we were due on. I bounced down, having set the lights how we wanted them, and we did the act, to the biggest applause of the night. I tottered off, well you try walking with high heels and a skirt that is only just wider than your legs, and made it up to the lights again. We got to the end of the show, and I bounced down to take the last bow, we wound up doing a reprise before the end of the show, and as the curtains closed I had to go up to turn the lights off, and restore the main lights in the hall to their usual switches, by the exit door. I was getting tired by this time, and was ready to go home, even though I would have to get changed out of my dress. I bounced down, but missed a step, I couldn't see them because of my dress, I couldn't hold on, and landed at an angle, the shoe, on my left foot went underneath me at an angle, and I felt a searing pain, I had broken my ankle. An ambulance was called, I kept saying that I had to get changed, but my clothes were in a classroom on the lower floor, and they didn't want to move me, so someone was sent to get them. The ambulance was there very quickly, before they got back with my clothes, and had me on a stretcher to go to the ambulance; my clothes were thrown into a bag for them to take. One of the girls, who had a car, followed us there. So there I was, all done up, and wearing a dress stuck in casualty. It was quite a time before I got taken into the cubicle to be seen, and a very kind nurse helped me out of my female clothes, and into my own, except my shoes which weren't with them. I got seen, carted off to X ray, and eventually my leg was plastered up to my knee. I was given a set of crutches, and shown how to walk with them. I had to wear one of the women's' glittery sandals on my good foot just, to make it more difficult, because they were the only shoes I had. The nurse giggled as she told me to be careful that I didn't fall off that shoe. I made my way out to the car, I must have been a peculiar sight, back combed long hair, make up, one silver sandal, and boys clothes. It wasn't long before I had another chance to go out in public. I met up with a girl that had been at school with me, and she invited me to her house the next Saturday. Her parents were going out, and wouldn't be due back until the next day. I had several girl friends, as opposed to girlfriends; I always seemed to enjoy their company far more than I always seemed to enjoy their company far more than lads'. Her parents gone, she managed to get me to tell her about being dressed up at school, she had missed it, we hadn't told anyone about what happened later. She expressed dismay at not having seen what I looked like, and wanted me to dress up for her, well the television was boring, so what the heck, did I ever, but you have to pretend don't you. We went up to her bedroom, and before long I was wearing a blue bra, with matching silky knickers, over a pair of very tight knickers that were holding my tackle between my legs, a knee length petticoat, with lots of lace at the hem, and a green summer dress, with short sleeves, and two kick pleats front and back. To finish it off, I had a pair of white tights, and a pair of her black patent leather court shoes, with 2-inch stiletto heels, and a white cardigan. We went down stairs, and she combed my hair, and parted it down the centre, holding the sides back with hair clips, that had little flowers on them. She made me sit down, and applied some make up to my face; she then filed my nails, to tidy them up, and applied some red nail varnish to them. I was sat with my hands held out, and fingers apart, waiting for the varnish to dry, when there was a knock at the door. She went to answer it, the curtains were open, and so we couldn't pretend we weren't there. It turned out to be a boy who fancied her, and his friend, who was visiting him from London, they invited themselves in despite her trying to stop them, they were going to the pub, and had come to see if she wanted to go as they thought she was going to be on her own. They said that it was even better as there were two of us girls to go with them. She tried hard to refuse, but they just took hold of her hands and pulled her out of the door, and outside the house closing the door behind them. They were both strapping six footers, then they came and did the same to me, I couldn't fight it, and I didn't want another broken ankle, which was my excuse to myself. We were outside, and he had picked up the door key from the key hanger it had been left on, in the hallway. I was frightened to death, what would happen if they found out, but we had no choice, we had to go. We were assisted into the back seat, and they took us to the pub. At least we didn't have to go to the bar, they found us a table to sit at, while they played at being gentlemen and fetched the drinks, they had pints of lager, and we got half's of lager and lime. After the first drink, we were given vodka, and orange. I have to admit, being on the opposite side of the fence was quite enjoyable, and cheap, but I lost count of how much we had to drink. They might even have been doubles. It started to get cold, and we didn't have coats, so it was decided that we should go home, somehow or another, she wound up in the front seat, and I was in the back with the friend from London. I fell asleep very quickly, as I always do when I'm not driving, and woke up to find we were parked down an unlit country lane, they were snogging in the front, and I was lying snuggled up to the friend, with his arm around my shoulders. I went to sit up, but he noticed I was awake, and turned slightly to put his other hand on the inside of my thigh, about half way up, I tried to grab his hand, and to tell him that I wasn't that sort of girl, but his mouth hit mine just as I opened it. It seemed to last a lifetime, I had removed his hand from my leg, and when he finally came up for air, I was able to pull back enough to just shake my head, and say no, it wasn't unpleasant, if you shut your eyes it could be anyone, well that's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it. If we had been on our own I might not have complained, as long as his hand stayed at the level it had been poised at, it was actually quite nice to feel it through my tights, but I didn't feel like snogging a boy when the girl in the front knew the truth. He reacted to my refusal very well; I think he was regrouping for another assault. It was getting cold, and I moved back closer to him, for mutual warmth. He put his arm around me, so my shoulder was under his armpit, and his arm down my back. I was facing him sideways on, with my head resting on his chest, I put my arm around his waist, and he placed his other hand on the outside of my thigh, on the highest leg, again it felt nice through my tights. I was feeling comfortable, and safe in this situation, and dozed off again. The next thing I knew we had got back to the girls house, and had to get out of the car, It's a good thing that I have never had a problem walking in high heels, because I wouldn't have managed to get back safely to the door otherwise. The boys drove off, and she said they had taken the key with them, I got upset, and she apologised for having joked abut it; she did have the key. We went inside, and sat down; she wanted to know what happened in the back seat, we swapped notes. She said that I would have to go and wash my makeup off, and get changed, so that I would be ready to go before her parents arrived back, or at least look like a boy if they arrived home earlier than expected. I reluctantly went upstairs, but didn't take my clothes off, until I had washed, I wanted to keep them on as long as possible. We went to bed, she was upstairs, and I slept on the couch, where we were when her parents arrived home. We had to admit having gone out, we both had hangovers, but other than saying it was with two friends we didn't say anything more. Thankfully when her friend went round and they were in, he mentioned the night, and that we had gone out with him, and his friend, made his friends night apparently, she was holding her breath, but fortunately he didn't refer to the girls, or any other hint that they had picked up 2 girls from the house. I had another chance to get changed at another party, at one of the lad's houses, there was another girl, about my size, see being late to develop and grow isn't all drawbacks, and she was looking very uncomfortable. I asked her what the problem was, and she said she was feeling overdressed, most of the girls were wearing jeans, and tops, but she was wearing a knee length white dress, that came down to just above her knees, and buttoned up the front, leaving a small gap from the bottom button to the hem. It was see through, as it was made out of a lacy cotton material, so her pink petticoat showed through, and the lace around the bottom showed when she moved. The pink showed up even more because she was wearing white tights. She said that she wished she had worn jeans instead. I said I thought she looked great, and that I really liked her dress. We were overheard, and some one told her to be careful or I would be asking to borrow it. She jumped at this and wanted to swap, of course the general opinion was that we should, for a laugh. So of course I reluctantly gave in, I was worried that too many protestations would ruin my chance. We went upstairs, and stripped off, she got my clothes, and I got hers, it turned out that her knickers and bra were part of the same set, as her petticoat. Once I was dressed, she combed my hair for me, and applied the make up; fortunately, we had the same size shoes, so I got to wear a pair of pink high-heeled sandals She took her earrings off, they were the sort that have a screw on fitting, and put them on my ears, they were quite heavy, and banged against my neck every time I moved my head. Then she took off her necklace, and fastened it around my neck, as she fastened it she gave me a kiss, the feeling of our lipstick meeting was terrific. To finish off the look she emptied her handbag, which matched the sandals, and emptied my pockets, placing her stuff in the pockets of my jeans, and my stuff into her handbag, you haven't got any pockets, in that dress, she explained, as she handed me the bag. I put the strap over my shoulder, and we went downstairs. Neither of us had the inclination or attempted to swap back, and we spent the rest of the party wearing each other's clothes. I danced far more than I ever did as a boy. There were slow dances, but I danced with another girl, I turned the lad down who suggested it. There were too many people about to risk dancing with a boy, so I didn't have a chance to try that out. It turned out that that the lad who had put the party on, hadn't got permission, from his parents, and when they came home they threw us all out, once again I was outside, wearing a dress, but fortunately this time I knew my parents wouldn't be in. We walked home, about a mile, along with some of our friends; she kept asking me if I was all right walking in her shoes. There was no way that I was going to give up wearing anything feminine, so I said yes, even though my feet and legs really ached. We had " "lost"" the others on the way home, and when we reached the door, I had to rummage in the handbag, for the key. It struck me as being a very feminine thing to do. She phoned her parents, and told them she was staying at her friend's house; the friend lived just round the corner from me. Are you, I asked,, no she said, they would be in bed, and get annoyed if she woke them up, she intended to stay with me. I was overjoyed, we went into the front room, and I sat down and took the shoes off. I was sat on the settee, legs pulled up, with my hand on my nylon covered leg, and she came over to sit beside me. I said I suppose we had better get undressed, but she said no, and produced her lipstick again, to top both of us up. Then she put her hand up my skirt, and started to stroke the inner part of one of my legs, we started to kiss, I think she liked the idea of snogging with another girl. We wound up lying down, with her on top; her hands went up my dress, and started to pull my tights and knickers down. Lift your bum up, she said, and I did, my knickers and tights were on the floor pretty quickly, followed by her jeans and pants. She sat herself down on top of me, inserting my Penis into her vagina, and then eased herself on top of me, closing her legs as she did it, and made me open mine. She was adopting the male role, and made me be the woman, well I was properly dressed for the part. I lost my virginity with my hair all girly and wearing make up, a bra, petticoat, and dress, being the girl. It wasn't her first time. We eventually went to bed, she got undressed, I didn't, and there was no way I was going to take those clothes off until I had to. We had another session the next morning, and then I had to take her clothes off, so that she could wear them to go home. She reminded me to wash what was left of my make up off, and combed my hair out for me. I was really pissed off when she left the house wearing the clothes. I was hoping that she would have borrowed some of mine, and left them behind, for me to wear again. Bag of Rags 3: the later years The tick of time moves ever onwards. I left home and got a job, as a trainee manager, with a large retail outlet, which meant that I had to move around different stores in the North West. They had a women's clothing department, and every so often, I had to stay behind to lock up after the cleaners had left. This was brilliant, I was able to get a stock of clothes that fit me, a longhaired wig, because I had to have short hair, and make up as well, and simply rang up my own purchases, but I could only wear them in the privacy of my own room. I did become proficient at making myself up though. Eventually, I wound up in Blackpool, I knew about Lucy's bar, but thought it was just for Gay people, if I had known then what I know now, I could have tried it out. As it was I got fed up with continually moving around, something you have to do to get promoted, I packed the job in, and returned home. Unfortunately, it meant that I had to dispose of my women's clothes, because I didn't have a safe place to hide them. I was out at a disco, one night, and had come up short; I think it might have something to do with me actually looking at what the girls were wearing, and wishing that I could wear them, rather than for any other reason. I got accused of undressing a girl with my eyes, if I was it was only because I liked what she was wearing, and would have liked to be wearing it myself. I met up with my girl friend; she had just dumped her boyfriend, and wanted a shoulder to cry on. The next thing that happened was that she became my girlfriend, but we didn't mention the night out. Time moved on, and we got married, God I was jealous of her wearing a wedding dress, while I just got a suit, and also all the fuss that was evident before the wedding day, and getting ready for the day, that I had missed out on, never a bridesmaid, and never a bride. When we went to get changed, at her parents house, she had taken her dress off, after I unzipped it, and I picked it up, and held it in front of me, what do you think?, I asked, lovely she said, but you're not going to wear it. I knew that she meant it, it was her special dress, and it was going to stay that way. She smiled, and told me to clear off whilst she got dre