The Prom Queen A Story About a Lovely Boy Part 6
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The Prom Queen: A Story About A Lovely Boy -- Part 3 free porn video
The Prom Queen - Part Three
The next day, as Corey was completing his chores for Mr. Mathias during
third hour, the teacher asked if Corey would be free to come back after
school, that he had an idea for Corey.
"You really are a very hard working, nice boy," he said. "I think I have
something you might like to help you."
Corey said he would, since his sisters got home an hour after he did, and
he could be home in plenty of time. He wondered what the coach had in
mind; Mr. Mathias had been so friendly recently after having been so
critical of Corey and calling him a "girl" for his failures in gym class.
In his new chores, Corey didn't have to suit up for gym or take a shower,
and that removed some of his daily fears. It was funny, too, that as he
checking in towels, he began joshing with some of the boys and soon found
they treated him as just one of the other boys.
For the first time in weeks, he was feeling like he was being accepted
back among other students; he still carried himself in his feminine
manner, but no one that day seemed to call him "fag" or "sissy". He was
still feeling so at ease as he entered Mr. Mathias' room that afternoon.
"Oh, Corey, here you are. Glad you could come."
He motioned Corey to sit in the straight-backed wooden chair opposite his
desk; Corey glanced around and saw a trophy case, full of awards, both for
various sports at the school and some individual ones, signifying Mr.
Mathias' own honors. The centerpiece was a framed picture, draped with a
giant blue ribbon, showing a muscular young man, obviously Mr. Mathias,
standing in front of a giant set of barbells. In gilded gold on the blue
ribbon draped were the words: "1987 State Champion - Weightlifting".
Corey suddenly felt inconsequential and very ashamed of his own puny body
as he looked at the picture and then at the man sitting at the desk before
him, wearing only a white t-shirt that was tight, his expanded chest
seeming to burst out of the cloth and his giant biceps straining at the
hem of the shirt. Was this muscular man going to look at his arms, slender
and soft, and again call him a "girl" he worried?
"Yes, sir. What did you want?" Corey said.
"Corey," he began slowly. "There are rumors going around that Mark is
nominating you to be a prom queen. Is that true?"
Corey hesitated. "Well... ah..."
"Is it true? That's all I asked."
"Well, I... ah... don't know if he's going to do it. He asked me about
it."
"Is that why you started acting like a girl so much?"
"I guess so. His sister has helped me dress up a bit."
"That's pretty weird, isn't it, Corey? For a smart boy like you to do this
strange thing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you serious about this?" Mr. Mathias asked.
"I guess."
"OK, then, that's what I thought."
Corey was awaiting Mr. Mathias to launch into a tirade of righteous
indignation, stating what a shameful thing it was for a boy to dress as a
girl. Instead, Mr. Mathias got up from his desk and walked behind a
folding screen, returning with a white frilly dress on a hanger.
"Do you know what this is, Corey?"
"Ah... yes. It's a ballet dress. I think they call it a tutu."
"How do you think you'd look in this?"
Corey blushed, and was suddenly frightened. Where was this going?
"Don't worry, Corey. Here's the plan."
"Yes."
Mr. Mathias came toward Corey, sitting on the side of his desk, draping
the tutu over his knee. "I talked with Miss Simmons, the girl's phy ed
teacher. She teaches a ballet and dance class. It counts as part of phy
ed, and she'd be glad to accept you for that class."
"Really?" Corey said in wonderment.
"But she said," Mr. Mathias continued, "That she has no place for a boy,
since all her routines are for girls. Do you think you could take part as
a girl?
"Oh, I don't know."
"Really, Corey, if you're going to run for prom queen, it won't hurt you
to take this class. You'll pick up dance steps. And, besides, it'll be
great for your physical fitness. Ballet requires lots of strength."
"Oh, gosh, Mr. Mathias, I don't know what to say."
"This should be good for you."
"Ok, I guess could try out for it. I'd be scared they'd laugh at me."
"Maybe, but if you try it out, I think you'll do fine. What do you say?"
"OK, sir, if you think it's OK."
The teacher now handed the white frilly tutu to Corey, and said, "Miss
Simmons would like you to try this on to see if they have to order another
size for you."
He told Corey to change behind the screen in his office, and Corey did so,
revealing as his disrobed his pink, silk panties, and feeling so naked
before he put on the tutu. It felt like a perfect fit, and yelled over the
screen, "Mr. Mathias. It fits fine."
"Come out, and let me see you," he ordered.
Corey hesitated. Why did Mr. Mathias need to see whether it fit?
"Come, Corey, let me see if it'll work. It may feel like it fits, but I
better see."
Corey did as told, emerging gingerly from behind the screen and standing
before the gym teacher. He felt cold and exposed.
"Oh you look wonderful, Corey," Mr. Mathias said. "Let me see how this
fits, if it's too tight."
Mr. Mathias suddenly had his hands on Corey's buttock, feeling underneath
the tutu skirt, and tugging at the elastic rimming Corey's upper thigh.
Corey froze, and soon found he was being embraced by Mr. Mathias, his
slender body being engulfed by bulging muscles.
Corey smelled the teacher's light cologne, a zestful smell that almost
intoxicated him. He found himself looking up into the teacher's green
eyes, which were intense and almost tearful.
"Oh Corey, you make such a beautiful girl."
"Mr. Mathias, what are you doing?"
Corey felt his own tiny penis growing erect. He felt weak and excited as
Mr. Mathias continued to caress him, running his large hands along Corey's
slender back and his soft arms.
He also felt Mr. Mathias pants grow, as it was obvious, the teacher's
penis was growing erect.
"Oh gosh," Corey said. "This isn't right."
"I think you like this, Corey. You make such a beautiful girl. Don't you
like it?"
Corey surrendered himself to the gym teacher, who continued to grope him,
finally kissing him lightly on the lips. It was then they heard Mr.
Johnston, the school janitor entering the corridor. Mr. Mathias released
him immediately and said, "Go change you clothes."
Corey returned to behind the screen and changed into his clothes.
"Mr. Mathias. I guess you liked me as a girl."
"Never mind that," the teacher said, more sternly. "I think you should
report to Miss Simmons for 3rd hour gym tomorrow; she's expecting you."
"Yes, sir. And I thank you for helping me out."
"OK, and I guess Miss Simmons will tell you where to change into this
tutu. I'll take it for now."
Corey smiled at the teacher, giving him a coy, flirty flash of his eyes,
feeling very much a lovely girl. Corey was slowly beginning to realize the
power he had over men when he was dressed as a girl; he was indeed a
pretty girl who could turn the eyes and attentions of men everywhere.
That night, Corey felt more excited and aroused than ever with the memory
of the teacher's eyes looking so intensely at him. He remembered the eyes
were moist and eager; he could still feel the rhythmical movements in the
teacher's body as he caressed Corey.
Corey realized the teacher was seeing him as a girl, as a desirous,
attractive girl, and Corey felt a strong attraction to this muscular man
who at first had treated him so cruelly. He laid in bed that night,
seeking sleep, but feel very hard in his manhood as he thought of Mr.
Mathias. Corey caressed his own soft arms, imaging himself as girl and
wishing he had a vagina for the teacher to finger and, perhaps even, to
enter.
"I'm a girl," Corey said aloud, repeating with enthusiasm. "I'm a girl,
I'm a girl, I'm a girl."
The next morning Corey went a step further in his own feminization,
putting on a pair of girl's low-heeled shoes he had purchased. They were
sandals and he put on a pair of knee high black sheer stockings. Corey
thought the shoes would not be noticed, except by close examination; he
also wore a pair of navy blue girl's slacks and a sequined blouse with
short sleeves, that somewhat followed the unisex style that many boys were
wearing. Yet, as he looked in the mirror, flicking his long hair with a
flip of his wrist, he realized to most persons he would look like a girl.
"Corey, don't wear that," his sister pleaded that morning. "You're looking
like such fag."
"You think so?" he asked, with a twinkle.
"Yes, and you'll embarrass me so. Kids in my class are already calling you
a weirdo."
"Don't worry sis. Just tell them I am strange. Doesn't mean you are."
"Oh Corey, I wish you wouldn't. Why can't you be a real boy? You're such a
sissy."
"I'm sorry, sis, but I feel so good this way." He left for school, wearing
a girl's jacket he had purchased, with his long hair flowing out from
under the pinkish wool winter cap. At first glance, he looked like any
other high school girl headed for school.
His sister was right; he was creating a scene as he walked down school
halls that day, his erect posture and short steps giving his body a
feminine sway. On the third floor of the school, as he approached his
second hour history class, a group of boys were standing, blocking his
way, but Corey decided to move into the midst of the boys, still walking
in his feminine way.
"Well, hi slut," said a fat slob of a boy that Corey knew only as Jason.
Jason grabbed Corey, pinning him against a row of lockers, saying, "You
want my cock, girlie?"
The other boys laughed and giggled and he heard the words, "faggot" and
"queer".
Corey remember Jason for being also soft and unmuscular, like himself, and
also that Jason had trouble in gym class, too, probably due to he excess
weight. Corey smiled, seeing the round soft face of Jason twisted into a
devilish look, and said with a dramatic flourish, "No, I only want cock of
handsome boys."
Corey squirmed out of Jason's grasp, and walked with an exaggerated but
confident sway of his hips through the group of boys to his the classroom.
He tossed his head, flipping his long hair about, as a haughty woman
would, feeling he had bested the brutish throng of boys. He could hear
them laugh, but his bold behavior had ended up making Jason the butt of
the joke.
"Wow, guess she told you," Corey heard one of the boys say, mocking the
fat bully who had stopped Corey.
Corey smiled to himself, knowing he could be bold and confident about
being a girl, and he'd be accepted.
Yet, he was wary about what would happen in Third Hour, which he'd join
Miss Simmons' class to play the role of a girl in a ballet class. How
would the other girls accept him? Would they laugh at him? Would he even
be able to do the ballet steps, since he recognized they took great
strength, and he wasn't very strong to begin with?
The ballet classes were held in a separate room where music classes were
held, down the hall from the locker rooms; an adjacent teachers room was
turned into a changing room where the students changed into their ballet
outfits. Corey was one of the last to enter the room, and he did so,
slowly, wondering what he showed do, and without the earlier bravado he
had had after getting the best of Jason.
"Ah, Corey," he heard a voice say. "Welcome to our beginning ballet class.
Come here, let me introduce you."
Corey identified the voice as coming from Miss Simmons, a small, wiry
woman with a narrow face and long black hair. He knew her as both the
music and dance teacher, since she had been a onetime member of a ballet
chorus and also had a music education degree, and her physical presence
exuded command, despite her small stature.
"Girls," she said, addressing some 15 girls, dressed in sweat pants or
shorts, t-shirts or blouses and wearing hair nets or scarves to secure
their hair. "Let me introduce Corey, who will be joining us."
"What, a boy?" said one of the girls.
"Yes, now pay attention," Miss Simmons said. "Corey will be the first boy
to be in this class, and I think it's great to get some boys in with us to
know ballet."
"But, Miss Simmons," the same girl persisted, a strikingly beautiful
blonde girl with an athletic body. "How can we be free and act ourselves
with a boy here?"
"Oh, Tracy, you'll do fine I'm sure. First of all, I'll let Corey change
in my office, so he won't bother anyone's privacy."
Miss Simmons then told the girls to begin on individual ballet exercises
for ten minutes, and directed Corey to follow her into the office.
"Now Corey," she said. "Mr. Matthias has suggested you take this class.
Frankly, I'm not sure it'll work out, because you heard some of the other
girls don't like you being there."
"Oh, Miss Simmons, I don't want to cause any trouble. Maybe I should go
back to do regular boys gym."
"No, Corey, I'm eager for this to work. I love ballet and we need to get
more boys involved."
"OK. I hope I'm good enough. I'm not much of an athlete, you know."
"I know, but I also know that you're a good student and Mr. Mathias says
you always tried hard, even if you weren't real strong. I think you'll do
fine."
She gave Corey a pair of women's sweat shorts and a short sleeved ballet
practice blouse. "I'm sorry this is all I have. Put this on and join the
class."
She left the room and Corey put on the shorts and blouse, tying his hair
in the back with rubber bands he found on her desk.
He found the girls to be so busy in their own exercises they paid little
attention to him as he walked out on the floor. Miss Simmons demonstrated
to him some basic exercises and told him to get started.
Corey found himself struggling with the exercises, and found all of the
girls were completing them better than he was. He spied the blonde girl,
Traci, eyeing him with a smirk on her face, and whispering something to
the girl next to her. The girls response was to laugh, and say loud enough
for Corey to hear, "No, he's not much of a boy, is he?"
Corey however continued and by class end was doing better, though he was
still not up to any of the girls in the class. He was plainly exhausted
when the class ended and as he started walking to change his clothes, a
round-faced girl, reddened with exertion, came to him and said, "I think
you'll do fine, and I'm glad you're joining us. My name is Carol Stanton."
"Thank you Carol," he said simply, glad to leave the room to avoid further
embarrassment.
"And I think you'll soon be just one of the girls," Carol said with a
friendly tone in her voice, trying to make him at home.
Corey blushed, and said simply, "I hope I can as good as all of you."
And he rushed to change his clothes, again seeing another step taken
toward becoming a girl. His legs were so sore, and he had been so clumsy
in the exercises, he wasn't sure he had the strength to be as good as any
of the girls. But, he was determined to try.
After school, he wondered whether to see Mr. Mathias. He had been so
excited by the visit the day before, and was tempted to find the tutu and
put it on again for the gym teacher. Besides, he felt he should thank Mr.
Mathias for his help.
He knocked on Mr. Mathias' door, which was closed. "Who is it?"
"Corey, Mr. Mathias."
"Oh... I'm sorry, I'm busy now."
"Oh, OK. I'll go then."
But before he could leave he heard Mr. Mathias say. "What do you want
Corey?"
"I just wanted to thank you. Miss Simmons was very nice."
"OK, I'm just leaving now. Come in for a minute."
Corey entered the room, and saw Mr. Mathias beginning to put on his coat
and scarf. "Can I give you a ride home, Corey?"
"Oh no, Mr. Mathias. I live in foundry town and that's out of your way,
I'm sure."
"Not at all. Are you ready now?"
The two left the school and got in Mr. Mathias' light blue Camaro. They
engaged in talk about Corey's day in school and his challenging the bully,
Jason.
"Mind if we stop here for a minute?" the teacher said as the were driving
through Marion Park, which was a short cut to Foundry Town.
"I guess not, but I have to get home by 4 p.m., when my sisters get home.
I babysit."
"You will," he said, stopping the car into quiet parking lot, off the
parkway.
"Corey, let me say this, and I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't help
it."
The teacher paused, saying nothing. Corey knew what was coming, and he
wanted to hear the teacher say the words. He wasn't frightened. Instead he
was eager to heard Mr. Mathias talk.
Corey opened up his jacket, showing his pretty blouse, and flicking his
hair in a feminine way, looking into Mr. Mathias' eyes.
"Mr. Mathias," he said in a soft, almost sweet, girlish voice. "I thought
about you all last night."
"Oh Corey, this is so wrong."
"But I have thought of you too, and Corey my darling I think you are the
most beautiful girl... oh... I mean boy."
"Oh call me your girl, please. I feel like your girl, and please hug me."
They were soon in a hard embrace, the teacher's hands wandering underneath
Corey's coat and blouse, onto his slender body, caressing feverishly the
boy's smooth, soft body. "Oh, my sweet Corey. My sweet girl."
Their lips met, first gently, hardly touching, but suddenly in wet full
pressing kisses. Corey had never kissed anyone before like this, and he
soon felt the sensation of Mr. Mathias' tongue entering his mouth. He was
almost breathless as he tasted Mr. Mathias' adult juices, slightly sour,
but oh, so sweet.
Corey's penis grew hard as the kisses continued; he felt almost pain and
quickly became worried that he'd begin to masturbate there, right in the
Camaro.
They separated, and looked at each other in the gathering darkness of a
late winter afternoon, their heat steaming the inside of the windows of
the car. Corey never felt such affection for anyone as he did that minute
for Mr. Mathias.
The teacher was caressing Corey's hair now, playing with it gently and
looking into the boy's eyes.
"You're so lovely, Corey. You're so special to me."
He paused, and Corey was filled with emotion that this muscular man would
have any affection for such a weak, sissy as himself.
"But this is all wrong," the teacher said. "You're a student and under 18.
Let me take you home now, and let's never meet like this again."
"Oh Mr. Mathias, I feel so good being with you. We can keep meeting. We
just need to be careful."
"No Corey, when you're 18, and if you still feel the same, then maybe we
can meet again. But from now, we're just teacher and student."
"No, Mr. Mathias, I love you," Corey protested. "Oh my, what did I say?
But, I feel I love you. Is that wrong?"
"No Corey, you are saying what you think now, but you're too young to make
that choice. And I'm wrong to lead you on."
"Oh Mr. Mathias, I do. I do. I do love you."
The teacher turned from Corey, and started the car. He took the boy home,
dropping him off without a word. Corey said softly as he was getting out
of the car: "Mr. Mathias, you have been so nice to me, and I thank you. I
know this is all just between you and me. I'll be your friend forever."
"Go now, Corey. You are most special too. You must be a good person now,
in whatever you do."
"Thank you, Mr. Mathias," he said, getting out of the car.
"And Corey," the teacher said before the door closed. "I'll be rooting for
you as prom queen. I'm sure you'll be the prettiest girl there. Bye now."
And he drove off, the car door closing sharply as he sped.
Corey felt so excited and exhausted. It had been quite a day.
There was a buzz echoing through the school as Corey entered the next
morning. He was challenged by Nicole and her friends before he had gone
more than 10 feet into the school lobby.
"Mark's nominated you for prom queen, you bitch," she yelled at the top of
her lungs.
Corey was stunned, finally realizing that the nominations were being
posted that morning on the school bulletin board.
"I didn't know he was actually going to do that," he said.
"Oh you queer, you faggot. You knew it, look how you've been dressing.
Like a slut."
Nicole approached Corey who still had his hands full of books, and began
pounding on him. She was a strong girl and her pounding of fist on his
chest hurt.
Nicole's punching slowed down and she began to cry. "He was my boy friend,
and he chose a queer, a faggot. He's shaming the whole school."
Nicole's friends separated the two and dragged her away, but not before
she yelled, "Mark's not going to get away with this. And you're not going
to run for queen. You'll see."
Corey was stunned, and was sorry he had agreed to this whole idea. It was
making his life topsy-turvy, but he had to admit he was enjoying the
attention, although it scared him.
"You'll do good girl," said a female voice behind him. It was Carol, the
round-faced girl in ballet class.
Corey turned and blushed. "Thank you, Carol. You're so nice to me."
"No really, Corey, I think you're beautiful and if you can beat out snobs
like Nicole, I'm behind you."
Her words comforted him, but he knew his trek into the world of girlhood
and running for prom queen would be full of challenges, and perhaps even
heartbreak. He could hear others laughing and commenting about him as he
went his way during the school day.
"I'll be a pretty girl and strong girl," he told himself that day.
"Mother," he said that night at home, "I'm going to be a girl, beginning
now."
Corey had gotten home from school that afternoon determined to see how
girlish he could become. The girls weren't home from school; they were due
in two hours, and he began by softening his body in a bubble bath, a
fragrant smell, faintly like lilac. He shaved the light hair beginning to
sprout on his face and under his arms, admiring the smoothness of his
soft, pinkish body.
"I am so much a girl," he said, seeing the arms so sweet and untoned.
He put on pink short shorts, sandals with 2' heels, and a light blue tank
top. He teased his hair, brushing it back, and so pleased that it had
grown long enough to tie into a ponytail. He found a pink baseball cap,
and tucked the ponytail thru the hole at the back, examining himself in
the mirror, pleased that he looked like a pert teen girl.
"Oh darling," his mother responded. "Are you sure?"
"Oh mother, look at me! How could I possibly be a boy?"
His mother motioned Corey to come to her, grabbing Corey's hand and having
him twirl about, as if modeling clothes. Corey copied the feminine moves
he had seen on modeling shows.
"Corey, my dear, I really see you only as girl now. Oh God, what are we
doing?"
"Mother, it's what I want. I was never any good as a boy."
What surprised Corey was his sister, Ronette, who now was so happy to see
Corey as a sister, instead of as a brother. That night, she asked Corey if
the two could go shopping next Saturday, as long as Corey dressed as a
girl.
"I love how you look," Ronnie said. "You the prettiest girl I know, and I
can introduce you as my sister."
Corey wondered why this change of heart in Ronnie, when she had been so
mortified when Corey first dressed before her.
"My girl friends saw you on television," Ronnie said. "They think you're
so pretty. In fact, Michelle wants to go with us. Is that OK?"
Corey blushed. Now it was certain: he was a girl.
Corey was still slated to be a candidate for prom queen, even though Mark
had rejected him publicly. It would still mean finding the right gown,
learning some sort of performance and doing a three-minute speech in the
competition. The only question was: who would be his escort?
Nonetheless, the news stories still placed the whole matter up in the air.
The School Board had announced there would be a special meeting, after one
of the members, a member of an Evangelistic Church, petitioned for such a
meeting, announcing in stentorious tones on television:
"No way should we permit this perversion, this abomination, this unnatural
blasphemy to exist in our schools. God wanted boys to be boys, not girls.
We need to stop this gross sinning by our school."
There would be a school board public hearing on the issue a week from
Tuesday, it had been announced.
(To Be Continued)
Copyright, 2004 by K. G. Communications
Brandy
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