Scissor Sisters - Chapter Five free porn video

Scissors Sisters - Chapter Five - By: Beverly Taff List of Characters. Me: Peter(Now Petra); Susan(Susie): My mother; Grandma: My granny; Aunty Pauline: My mother's twin sister; Charlotte: My younger sister(By one year); Persephone & Stephanie: My younger twin sisters(By 3 years); Emily & Judith: My twin cousins(2 days younger than I me); Janice: Grandma's live in maid. Chapter Five Monday arrived and with it my biggest fears. Judith recognised my fears and said little as we showered and dressed. The only time she said anything was when I asked her advice about knickers. "Wear the cotton interlock ones with the cuffed elastic legs. They look the most like boys cotton pants and most resemble cheerleader's pants. They've got a slight leg and even look like boy-pants." "Boy pants!" I exclaimed, "I thought the whole idea was to show that I now dressed like a girl." "Well if you don't believe me, ask Aunty Susie." I paused thoughtfully then decided to go with Judith's advice. The girls had been hinting all weekend that I should stick with plain simple knickers and avoid any potential for increased embarrassment caused by the certainty of 'skirt lifts' by the boys. "Frilly panties will just guarantee that the boys will persist in lifting your skirt," added Judith just for good measure. "OK then. You win," I conceded, "Cotton knicks it is then. Are you wearing the same?" "It's what I always wear, see, (She flicked up her skirt). Boys are such a pain. Besides, if the headmistress sees you wearing fancy panties, you'll get a row. They are not regulation uniform and it's for your own good. The teachers can't always be there and boys are always trying it on." "I'll stay by you all the time," I declared. "If there's a gang you'll still get 'lifted'. It's just so easy with skirts and they'll be gunning for you." I was getting nervous and Judith recognised my fear. She smiled and hugged me close. "Try not to worry. We'll all stick by you, just try and avoid them in the playground. Stay close under the headmistresses study window. That's why we girls tend to stick around that part of the playground. Whatever you do steer clear of the area behind the boiler room and canteen. None of the teachers can see you back there." I pulled wry smile. Before the accident those were exactly the areas were we boys tended to gather. The teachers could not see us and there was plenty of warning if a teacher came into the playground. Usually, the teacher on yard duty stayed close to the covered walkway that connected the canteen to the dining room. Now, unless I was prepared to run the risk of 'skirt lifting' or better, somehow 'nip it in the bud', I was forever destined to stay in the girly yard. At breakfast, Mummy and grandma asked me one last time about going girly and I resolved to do it. "It's the only way Mummy. How else am I going to pee? I can't face those awful boy's stalls. They're always wet and awfully smelly!" "Very well then darling, but if the boys get too difficult, you'll have to tell the headmistress." "I won't go telling tales. That's just a 'no-no'!" "Believe me!" replied Grandma quite forcefully, "Girls sometimes have to tell tales. If things get serious, it's the only defence left to them." I wasn't totally convinced, but then I hadn't lived as a girl before nor did I understand the deeper implications of Grandma's remarks. We gathered our school bags and lined up in the hall for grandma's final inspection, and then she kissed each on of us as we traipsed out of the door. Aunty Pauline walked with us to school because Mummy left earlier for work. She left us at the school gate and watched until we all six were safely indoors. Naturally we stayed together right into the classrooms then I had to wait while our form teacher, Miss Jones, addressed the seating arrangements. She smiled encouragement and nodded approvingly at my uniform for at least it was the regulation style. Nevertheless I could feel the boy's stares almost burning a hole in my skirt. "So Peter, where would you like to sit?" asked Miss Jones. "It's Petra, Miss Jones. I'm called Petra now. My Mummy is deciding on getting it made legal." "Oh! OK then Petra, where d'you want to sit?" "By my cousins, preferably next to Judith." She smiled then left me standing in front of the class while she walked down the aisle to talk to Sandra Hopkins who normally sat next to Judith. Sandra was Judith's second best friend after me and I could see that Sandra didn't really want to be separated. I called to the form teacher. "It's OK Miss. If Sandra wants to stay it's OK. I'll sit somewhere else." Sandra smiled and mouthed, 'thank-you,' so Miss Jones stopped and studied the desk arrangements. "I suppose we could move you three to the back of the class and put three desks abreast. Who would want to sit in the middle?" I spoke again. "It would be best if Judith sat in the middle then Sandra and I could both sit next to our best friend." Sandra nodded eagerly and Judith had the decency to be embarrassed that two children should be so keen to six next to her. Judith was a very popular girl. The added advantage was that I would now be seated right next to Judith while also just across the aisle from Emily. The only difficulty was that Judith would have to excuse herself every time she wanted to leave her desk. Both Sandra and I were more than able to accommodate her in that. With the arrangements settled I then went to my old desk to collect my stuff and almost immediately, Alan Powel sniggered as I went past him. "Hi girly, what's it like being a girl?" he whispered. I decided to face the issue straight away but whispered back to avoid Miss Jones or any of the girls overhearing. "It's OK. The girls in this class think I'm OK. They're friendly about it and they don't mind me using their toilets. See you at football later but I'll be changing with the girls." Alan's eyes widened with surprise. "What, d'you like being a girl?" "I've no choice now. Everybody knows I haven't got a penis any more, so I have to sit to pee and I'm not going to sit in that mess in the boys toilets!" Alan digested this and fell silent. Alan was one of the OK boys and something of a class clown, but he wasn't nasty. Obviously he was now slightly confused and somewhat embarrassed that he had shown himself up. Miss Jones noticed the interplay but decided to ignore it. She knew full well there would be far bigger fish to fry with some of the class bullies. I reached my desk and lifted the lid to find a snake coiled up amongst my stuff. Being a country girl from a country village I readily recognised it as harmless grass snake and I reached in to pick it up. With a grin I turned to the rest of the boys whilst the snake coiled itself around my arms. "Has somebody forgotten something?" I asked. Having demonstrated that I was not 'that sort of a girl' the boys appeared suitably contrite and David Pickering, one of my oldest friends amongst the boys, fessed up. I grinned and stroked the snake's head as I spoke. "Is it yours, or a wild one?" I asked David. "A wild one," he replied. I turned to Miss Jones as the snake slithered anxiously along my arm and extended its head looking for an escape. "Can we keep it Miss, for the nature display?" "No Petra, we certainly cannot. You and David can take it to Mr Thomas immediately and his class can have it. If they don't want it, then David must release it after school where he found it. Slightly disappointed, I turned to David and we left the classroom with the snake. In the corridor we regretted not being able to keep the snake. "I tried honestly David. I think Miss Jones is afraid of snakes. It would make a super pet for the nature table." David shook his head. "I didn't think she would let us keep it. It would need a big tank and lots of care. Besides we'd have to bring it food like frogs and stuff. Aren't you afraid of it?" "Do I look like I'm afraid of it?" I grinned as I let the snake burrow under my blouse. I haven't turned into a squealy, panicky girl overnight. I've only lost my penis. Inside, I'm still a boy." "It's a pity though. You're good at football. The class will miss you." "I'm still good at football. The only difference is that I can't pee like a boy, so the doctors suggest I use the girl's toilets and changing rooms. When we do sports, I'll change with the girls into my soccer kit and then come out to play with the boys. You'll see. I haven't changed into a softy girl overnight." "Well watch out for Billy James and Charlie. They've been making plans all week while you were in hospital." "Huh. I'm sure I can beat them. Well, one at a time anyway. It's the Boys in Mr Thomas's class I'll have to watch out for." "I think that's why, Miss Jones sent you to carry the snake. So that the boys can see you're still like a boy despite the skirt and stuff." We arrived at Mr Thomas's class and entered with the snake slithering inside my blouse. David explained as I undid a couple of buttons and reached inside to catch it. The girls all gasped but the boys leaned forward excitedly as David asked if Mr Thomas he would keep it. "We'll have to get a proper tank," observed Mr Thomas, "I don't have one immediately available but I'll phone the resource centre and see what they can do. Do you all want to keep the snake?" He asked his class. The boy's 'yeses' drowned out the girls and Mr. Thomas smiled. "Well I'll check with Mrs. Williams, the headmistress and if she says yes then we'll keep it. John, go and fetch the big bell jar. We can keep it in that until this afternoon." John was the school football captain and a really great guy. I almost hero-worshipped him. He grinned supportively as I passed the snake to him and he secured it under the big bell jar. "It'll be OK until we get a big tank," he smiled. With our mission completed, we returned to our own classroom. David turned to me with eyes full of curiosity for he had seen inside my blouse and under my silky chemise when I had reached under my chemise for the snake. "Are you wearing a bra?" "Yes and girls knickers," I replied, "If I'm to use the girl's toilets, Mrs. Williams says I mustn't embarrass the girls and I must dress the same as them. How would you like it if a girl grew a penis, changed into a boy then came into your changing rooms wearing knickers and bra instead of boy's pants?" "Yeah, I suppose your right. Jeeze, this is a right mix up. I'nnit?" he sighed. "How d'you think I feel?" I snapped a little irritably. David shook his head and I could see him debating how to react, whether to squeeze me around the shoulder like a protective big brother, or just punch fists, which is what we used to do. To ease his mind, I extended my fist and he gleefully punched it. At least he hadn't completely lost his old friend. "Just remember that I'm officially a girl now no matter what the others might say. But we can still be friends if you want." "Gee! That's cool. I haven't got a sister. You'll be my first friend who's a girl." "But not a girlfriend," I added, to avoid any confusion. "Uugh! Lay off. I don't want a girlfriend. That's just so soppy!" We arrived back at our own classroom and explained about the snake. Miss Jones nodded and replied. "I'm sure Mr Thomas will let you see it regularly and possibly feed it." With that we settled down to our lesson and little more happened until playtime. As I had anticipated, once in the playground, Billy Paisley and his sidekick Charlie Owen immediately approached us. Naturally several of the other boys followed and Judith turned to me as the gang approached. "If you want to run inside, now's the time." "It's no use," I replied, "they will be out to get me no matter what." Despite the imminent threat Judith and Emily remained resolutely beside me as Billy and Charlie pushed their way through the ring of girls who had gathered in a token effort to try to protect me. Their efforts came to naught however. The other girls were too afraid and whatever collective protection I might have garnished from the girls melted away at the first threat. Billy Paisley strode up to me and grinned in my face. "Hello sissy boy. What sort of panties are you wearing?" I didn't answer but braced myself for some sort of push or even a punch. I had not prepared for his next move. He simply reached down and lifted my skirt to expose my knickers. The sheer simplicity of this act left me shocked and embarrassed for a moment and I was speechless with surprise. It was almost as if I had been rendered impotent by one simple act. I naturally tried to remove his hand from my skirt but he grinned again and squealed, "Sissy! Sissy! Who's wearing panties?" I realised it was useless trying to somehow protect my modesty, for no matter how I tried, he was always able to lift up my skirt and expose my knickers. I had never realised just how threatening and invasive such an act was. It was a huge discovery for me to realise just how vulnerable it made me feel. There was no sense or reason to it, but it just did. Having my knickers exposed made me feel, just, well, helpless. For a moment I was paralysed with fear. Then to my alarm, Charlie Owen joined in and grabbed my hem from behind me and I was completely at their mercy. Judith and Emily tried to prevent him but with one shove he rendered them inactive. These two were well established as the class bullies and I realised I was on my own. With this realisation, came the hard truth. I would simply have to fight like a boy even though my knickers were showing. Without warning, I lashed out and struck Billy paisley right in the face. His face filled with shocked rage and immediately we were rolling on the concrete exchanging punches. The problem was that Charlie Owen was also helping his crony. I was grabbed from behind and pinned by the arms by Charlie as Billy laid into me with both fists. Fortunately John, the football captain from Mr. Thomas's class, arrived and recognised immediately what was going on. Everybody in the school knew my story and knew that I was now officially a girl. He grabbed Charlie Owen and restrained him as he shouted into his face. "What'cher doing! Does it take two boys to fight a girl?" "He's not a girl! He's a sissy!" squealed Charlie, not realising that this made John's accusation even more relevant. "So it takes two of you to fight a sissy!" With that everybody laughed but more importantly, I was now holding my own against Billy Paisley. We had never fought before. There had always been a sort of written understanding that we were more or less equal because of my prowess on the football field. He had tried several times to foul me on the football field but he had always come off second best and made to look stupid. On the other hand however, I had always wondered if I could take him. Now I was discovering I could. It was not an easy fight though and Billy was giving as good as he got. He had also torn my knickers and they were now in tatters around my bum. My tiny stumpy and 'left-overs' were visible to all! Unfortunately, I could not inflict the same humiliation on him. Boy's grey serge trousers were much too tough for me to rip. With my privates now exposed Billy bellowed with delight thinking that he had won but I was not to be deterred. Despite now being naked for all to see, I persevered with hitting him in the face and garnished the satisfaction of finally seeing his eye start to close up with bruising. He slumped to his knees but I was not to be assuaged and I leapt upon him to force him onto his back while still punching for all I was worth. He started to squeal for mercy but I was too angry. I now straddled him and finally landed one last final punch to cause his nose to spurt blood. "Am I a sissy now!" I gasped. "N, - no-o!" he blubbered through bleeding lips. "Can you see my thing now? Is it a girl or a boy?" I demanded as I rammed my crotch into his face. He tried to peer at my naked stumpy and I could see him debating what to make of it. Suddenly I wanted a pee and for a brief moment I thought I would have to get off him and dash to the lavatories but then I had a brainwave. I decided to teach him one last final lesson and this was the perfect chance to demonstrate such a lesson. Perhaps it was all the tension or fear, I don't know why; but I did know that I desperately needed to pee! I pushed my stumpy into his face again and snarled. "It's a girl's thing see! The boy bit's been cut off! D'you understand? Are you going to treat me as girl in future?" I demanded as I sat astride him in victory and forced my girly thing right into his face. By now I was bursting to pee! He fell silent so I seized my opportunity and suddenly let go. To his shock and horror, my pee sprayed out all over his face and he screamed in disgust and pain. My pee was stinging his cuts and bruises. It was also soaking his shirt. He struggled furiously but I had him in a thigh grip and he couldn't escape. All the girls started squealing with laughter while the boys hooted their support. Billy paisley was an unpopular bully who had at last been bested and by a girl at that! Finally my bladder was exhausted and I leapt clear of him just as Mr Thomas came to investigate the ruckus. There was no hiding my cuts and bruises for in truth I was every bit as bruised and battered as Billy Paisley. The only difference in the result was that I had peed all over his face and even into his mouth. This novel demonstration had reinforced my superiority and everybody who had witnessed the fight realised it. Billy Paisley would never bother me again! More importantly, I had demonstrated to the older boys in Mr. Thomas's top class that I was not to be easily messed with. Despite my victory however I still had to face Mrs. Williams, the headmistress. Two bruised and battered children had to stand outside her study exactly as they had finished the fight. Billy all wet from my pee and me without any knickers except a few tattered remnants of my waistband. Needless to say, Billy's reputation as a bully went before him and there were a score of girls who could swear that he had definitely started it. Nevertheless I did not get off Scot-free. As Mrs Williams clearly pointed out, if I expected to be treated like a girl then I should behave like a girl and not get into fights with boys, and especially not pee in their faces! I was given a spare pair of knickers from the emergency basket while Billy Paisley had to take a wash and change all his clothes. Our cuts and bruises were cleaned up and we were sent back to class. There Miss Jones scolded us again and we were kept in detention every playtime for the rest of the week. Strangely, Billy Paisley never held a grudge against me after that. In fact he even supported me when some of other boys tried to debar me from playing football. "Petra can hold her own so let her play!" Was all he would say and he still had enough 'street-cred' with the other boys to back up his words. Judith was well impressed with my performance that day and she eagerly related all the gory details to Mummy and Aunty Pauline when we got home. For my part I just wanted to go and shower then nurse my cuts and bruises. In the bedroom Judith joined me as I lay on the bed. "Is my wounded hero sore?" she whispered softly as she kneeled on the bed and gently kissed my split lip. "Ouch! Yes," I groaned, "Watch it, that hurts!" "Who's a brave girl then?" she sighed happily as she lay beside me on the bed. "I'm glad we got that boy thing over and done with. I've been worried about that ever since you decided to be a girl." "Yeah, so was I!" I agreed. "I thought the pee thing was brilliant. Fancy peeing into his mouth! That was just so cool!" I smiled in response. I was justly proud of myself for it reinforced exactly what I had become whilst brilliantly demonstrating my new status as a girl and a girl who could look after herself. As we carefully cuddled on the bed, Emily entered to express her joy. "That was just so brill cuz! Even Mummy and Aunty Susie are smiling downstairs." She slid gently onto the bed and we chatted contentedly until suppertime. At supper I found it hard to eat with a split lip and bruised mouth. Mummy made me a special treat of custard and mashed bananas so I didn't have to chew. As Judith joined me in bed, we did not cuddle. I was far too sore. The next morning, I dug out the strongest knickers I could find but they still seemed to be utterly inadequate for fighting with boys. It was obvious that as a girl, I was always going to be vulnerable to being 'de- bagged' if I tried to mix it anymore with the boys. Fortunately that one victory over Billy Paisley had set a datum for behaviour towards me. The boys were starting to look upon me as girl for all normal school activities whilst accepting me as a boy for football. However, there was still one more issue to be resolved and this was acceptance by the girls when we shared the lavatories. Girls use toilets for social intercourse whilst boys use them simply as a utility. I had to learn all sorts of subtle little lessons that I had never dreamed of. There was even a sort of pecking order as to who ruled in the lavatories. Obviously the girls in Mr. Thomas's class held top rank and I had to learn not to use boy tactics to fix my pecking order. Hitting any of the other girls was a definite No-No! The pecking order amongst the girls was much more subtle and blurred and I soon discovered that in their own mean little ways. Girls could be just as cruel as boys. Especially when they learned that I could not pee exactly like a girl and had to sort of lean forward and down to make sure I didn't splash. I also learned always to make sure I had my own supply of tissues because their favourite trick was to hide the toilet rolls when they saw me coming. Yes girls could be really mean. Being forced to carry tissues meant I invariably needed to carry a little bag with me. This was a little shoulder bag and the girls soon learned about the wiping issues. Their meanest trick was to ask to borrow my tissues on the pretence of wiping their lipstick or something (which they were never allowed to wear,) and then 'forget' to return it as I waited before going into the cubicle. Before I wised up, there were several instances where I ended up with damp knickers and believe me, that is a very uncomfortable situation, not to mention the smell. And boy! Can girls spot a smell! It was several weeks before I resolved all the issues with the girls and those resolutions took me a long way down the path to womanhood. I had to prove I could be trusted. I had to become thoughtful and compassionate, supportive and gentle. No more bombastic conceit. Most particularly, skirts and then later in the summer term, the thin cotton school frocks gave me that sense of vulnerability that most women felt about exposing their knickers. No more did I have that boyish bravado about my private parts being seen. Girls just seemed that much more modest and frail. I suppose for real girls, it was the permanent threat of penetration but the sense of vulnerability was infectious and I soon acquired that same insecurity about my stumpy as other girls felt about their 'ticklies'. In the girl's changing rooms particularly, I soon acquired that essential modesty about my body. It would stay with me for the rest of my life. The only time I felt confident when naked, was around Judith, Emily and Charlotte. The next year at school was our last year at the village junior school. By now, because everybody in the village knew and understood my plight, my life achieved a sort of bizarre normality. I was accepted into the girl's circles for all the womanly functions and of course the mothers recognised that I could never be a threat to their precious daughters. No one in the village even questioned my mummy when she allowed me to grow my hair out. This at least finalised my external appearance as a girl and it was accepted as quite normal when we presented as triplets at all the school functions. Indeed, many of the village mothers who had known me since birth, found it impossible to differentiate between the three of us now that I had long golden curls styled just like my cousins. By the end of junior school my cousins and I had delightful heads of soft, golden, wavy hair down to our shoulders. Another little wrinkle was also sorted out in my final year at junior school. Every Easter, the final year juniors, went to an Easter camp. There we could indulge our hobbies or learn new ones. Emily decided to do pottery and while she was making a bowl she tried attaching a handle and spout to it and calling it a teapot. The handle fell off in the kiln and it emerged as a simple flattish bowl with a spout. She returned to our cabin at the end of the day a little disappointed with her efforts and giggled as she showed us the failure. Judith's effort at a basket had been more successful while my attempt at sowing wasn't bad. I had made up a passable but simple frock. Sandra had also tried sowing and her shorts were very nice. We all thought Sandra might win. Emily was rather disappointed with her effort and sighed. "I don't think I'm going to win the prize. I've only got one more chance tomorrow and it's hard getting the handle to stick." As we compared our efforts I looked at Emily's handle-less 'teapot' and suddenly had a brainwave. I took Emily aside and whispered in her ear. "D'you know cuz, I think I could use this." "How?" she asked. "Can I borrow it a moment?" I asked. "Be my guest," she shrugged, "it's not much use to me." I tucked the 'teapot under my frock and into my knickers then quietly slipped away to the toilets. I realised that if I placed the top of the teapot, over my stumpy, and pointed the spout down into the pan, I could sit upright like any normal girl and my pee would drain straight down the spout into the pan. Cautiously, I tested my idea and it almost worked. It wasn't a perfect seal against the base of my tummy, but there was very little spillage and at least I wasn't getting pee on my fingers or over the seat. The thing worked! With a squeal of delight, I quickly wiped myself then washed my hands and the 'teapot' to return in triumph to the cabin. The others turned as one as I returned to our cabin. "This is brilliant. Can you make another tomorrow?" I squealed. "Why?" asked a perplexed Emily. "I can use it. It catches my pee and stops it spraying everywhere." Emily's jaw sagged and for a moment I thought she was going to burst out laughing. "You mean like a tea-pee-pee?" she gasped. "Sort of, look." I pulled down my knickers and demonstrated. "See, if I press the pot part over my tickly, (When other girls were around, I called it my tickly in the pretence that it was identical to a girls clitoris. This avoided any confusion or embarrassment for the likes of Sandra who shared our cabin.) Then I turn the spout and point it downwards and my pee doesn't sprinkle everywhere." Sandra had seen me trying to pee without a lavatory pan and she was aware of my problems. She was the only other girl besides my siblings who knew of my precise problem. I parted my legs and demonstrated to Emily that the pot would have to have a slightly bowed rim to match the curve of my belly to make a good seal and prevent any splashes. Her eyes widened and she gasped with delight as I explained. "This one almost works, but if you did that see, and made a slight curve in the rim to match my tummy, then it would work perfectly. The spout is already just the right angle and my pee drains straight down like a girls, into the pan." Emily gasped then her eyes widened as she realised that if she were successful she would easily win the innovation prize. Without a thought to my modesty, she made me lie back and spread my legs as she took a large piece of plastecine clay (play dough to Americans,)and made a big thick ring with it. Then she pressed it against my tummy around my stumpy and got a rough approximation of the curve of my tummy into my crotch. Of course at that age I had absolutely no pubic hair so it was an easy task. Then, after acquired her template, she put it on the windowsill to dry off and harden. The following morning, she took the hardened template to the pottery class and made a workable pee-pointer. With the instructor's assistance it baked perfectly and by Friday night I had a very functional pee- pointer. On the Saturday amidst howls of delight from the rest of the children, she embarrassed the instructor into conceding that she had certainly won the prize for innovation. I also had an excellent device that made my life infinitely easier for whilst I could not ever pee like a boy again, at least I could pee with the dignity of the other girls. The biggest advantage was that I could now were jeans again, but I was by my very nature a transvestite so the peeing issue was my ace in the hole regarding my wish to dress as a girl. The main drawback being was that I would always have to carry my pee-pointer with me at all times. However, girls and more particularly ladies, invariably carried handbags around with them and my little pee-pointer fitted quite snugly into my handbag or purse. The only other inconvenience was the strange looks I sometimes got from other girls when I was washing my tea-pee-pointer then drying it under the hand dryers. I learned to ignore this and say nothing unless a girl plucked up enough courage to ask what it was. I usually brushed it off by informing them I had a urinary problem which of course was the absolute truth. Most ladies were sympathetic to a little girl with a medical problem and smiled compassionately. So it was throughout the rest of my days at Junior School. The End of Chapter Five - To Be Continued. Feedback and Comments graciously accepted !!