Homeschooled free porn video

Homeschooled Synopsis: When his mother pulls Mickey out of high school and enrolls him in a home schoolers group, he develops close bonds with, and identifies with the other seven members of the group - except that most of them are girls and that leads to Mickey being feminized and then ultimately to regressing to an infant. 8th Grade - The year I was in eighth grade in middle school was the worst year of my life. That was the year that my father died. In four months he went from being this big, strapping, can-do-anything guy to this shrunken man who couldn't get out of his hospital bed without help - but that's what pancreatic cancer does to you, I guess. But I not only lost my Dad, I lost my best friend. Any time I had a problem I knew that I could go to him for help - no questions asked. And whenever I had some free time I'd rather hang around with him than my friends, even if he was just doing yard work or washing the car. But all of that ended when he died. After his death it was like nothing seemed to matter - not school, not my friends, not anything. If you've ever seen one of those movies where the crisp color picture slowly changes to a blurry black and white picture, that's what my life felt like - everything just seemed to be sort of gray and slow moving and, well, sort of unimportant. I didn't really have an interest in doing anything that I didn't have to do. Like, I'd go to school but after classes were out I'd just come home and lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Food didn't seem to taste good anymore and unless Mom bugged me I'd just pick at whatever was on my plate. If Mom got on my case I'd do some homework or studying after supper but when I was finished I'd just turn off the lights and get in bed and think about how much I missed Dad until I fell asleep. At one point I can even remember thinking about whether life was even worth living, and wondering about what it would be like to die And Mom wasn't too much help. She was just, like, in her own world. She had her job and had started working lots of overtime and even going in on the weekends - guess it gave her something to do and took her mind off Dad's death. When she was home she'd do housework - sort of. And make the meals - sort of. But we never really did anything with each other, or really talk to each other, or just hang out together and watch TV as Dad had done with me. Finally, after I'd lost about 15 pounds (which is a lot when you'd only been carrying about 120 on your 5' 6" frame) and my grades had gotten really bad, and I'd started getting in fights with the other kids at school and arguments with the teachers, the school called Mom in for a counseling session and suggested that she get some "professional help" for me. Well, even though I thought that the idea of "professional help" really sucked, it turned out not to be too bad. Three days a week, after school I'd go to this therapist who was this older guy, who really wasn't too bad after I got to know him a little, and I'd sit in this big, overstuffed comfortable chair in his office and we'd talk about things - nothing in particular, just whatever I wanted to talk about at the time, and every so often he'd ask me a question and that would get me thinking about something else to talk about. The funny thing was that after I'd talked to him for an hour I actually felt a little better and eventually I even got to look forward to talking with him. So eventually, slowly, life returned to normal for me - well, as normal as life can be when you don't have a Dad. Freshman Year - After a kind of "nothing" summer I entered high school at the end of August. Even though it was way bigger than my middle school had been I kind of liked it - there were lots of clubs and organizations that met after school. I'd never been really "into" sports, other than watching baseball on TV with Dad, but I joined the Computer Club and the Math League and the Science Olympiad. I got to know some of the Seniors and enjoyed hanging around with them more then with the other Freshmen. When I mentioned that to my therapist he suggested that maybe I was using them as "father figures" - which seemed kind of curious to me and I asked him if he thought that was bad. He said that he didn't see anything wrong with that, just as long as I realized that just because a Senior did something, it didn't mean that a Freshman should do it. Since I live less than a mile from the high school (just barely less than a mile so it's a pretty good walk every day - especially when it's cold or rainy), the school district doesn't provide bus service and I have to walk, or, since I've made friends with some of the older guys, hitch a ride with them - can't wait till I'm old enough to get my driver's license! Oh man! Something really bad happened today - I got arrested! I'd hitched a ride home with one of the Seniors today and I thought the other guys in the car were acting kind of funny - like several were acting nervous - and one kept telling the driver how nice his new car was. I didn't think too much about it at the time - but that was before there was a knock on our front door after supper and when Mom opened it, there was a cop standing there. It turns out that the driver of the car had stolen it earlier that day and all the boys who had been riding in it were going to be charged with breaking the law. So Mom and I had to follow him to the police station where I was photographed and then asked to wait in a small waiting room - a "holding cell" I guess. Man, at that point I wasn't sure whether I was going to cry or shit my pants I was so scared. Anyway, after about an hour a lawyer from the Public Defender's Office came in and talked to my mother. It turns out that because the other boys had told him that I wasn't aware that I was riding in a stolen vehicle, I'd only be charged with a misdemeanor, not a felony, and that because of my age if I pled guilty to the misdemeanor that I would just be put on probation for 6 months and if I didn't get in trouble during that time that my records would be sealed and I wouldn't have a criminal record. Mom agreed and the lawyer had her sign some paperwork and I was released and we drove home, arriving shortly before midnight. Mom didn't say anything but from the way she was acting, I could tell that she was really upset - I didn't find out for several weeks how really upset she had been about what I'd done. Well, Mom dropped the bomb today - she was going to pull me out of the high school and I was to be homeschooled. When she told me that I guess I said a bunch of things, including a few choice words to her that I shouldn't have used, and got sent to my room without supper. Over the next couple of weeks while I was still attending classes at the high school while Mom put together lesson plans and worked on the paperwork that would be necessary to remove me from the high school I kept trying to convince her that I should be allowed to stay in high school but her mind was made up. "Those older boys at the high school are a bad influence on you," was all I kept hearing. So anyway, I'm now officially "homeschooled." I really miss all of my friends at school - like, I can still see them occasionally on weekends but Mom's got me so busy during the week that I don't have any time to get together with them. The high school told Mom that I could still come to the after-school clubs that I had joined but since she was working during the day, and I didn't drive, and she certainly didn't want me to accept any rides from the other kids, getting to and from the meetings except when the weather was good was a hassle and I missed about half of the meetings. After a couple of months of that I was getting behind on what was going on with the clubs and finally just gave up and stopped attending the meetings. So every weekday Mom will make sure that I'm up before she leaves for work and when she gets home in the evening she'll review with me what I was supposed to do during the day and any assignments like math problems and essays and stuff like that which I was supposed to do that day. And if everything wasn't done correctly I'd get a stern lecture. Guess about the only good thing about being homeschooled was that if I just wanted to wear my pajamas around the house all day, I could. Had a real argument with Mom last night. To begin with she wasn't happy with the schoolwork I had done that day - well, she had told me to write a 2-page essay on the causes of the Civil War - she hadn't told me that I couldn't double-space it. And then she got mad because I was playing Grand Theft Auto IV in my room after supper with the door closed and the volume cranked way up on my sound system. And then I had the bad luck to be playing the part where we were up in Michelle's apartment making out when Mom opened my bedroom door to ask me to turn down the volume. When she saw Michelle's exposed breasts she just screamed, "Turn that disgusting filth off and go to bed immediately," at me before she left the room, slamming the door on her way out. It was a day or so later when I was working on my computer that I found my "Games" folder had been deleted. Several days later Mom handed me a CD, saying, "This is a better game for you to play. It's both educational and non-violent - and with no sexual content!" I looked at the CD and found that she'd bought me Sim City 4. Now I'd heard about Sim City where you created your own imaginary society and could manipulate the people and the environment to see what the effects would be - sounded pretty dumb to me! But if it was the only game that I had to play, I figured that I might as well try it out. Well, the first couple of times that I tried it I managed to kill everyone off in short order, but then I got to be better at it, and after a month or so of using it I was really enjoying it and realized that I didn't miss the violence and sex of GTA 4 as much as I had initially. I guess that doing all the lesson planning for me has been consuming a lot of Mom's time (Well, what the heck, working through the plans has consumed a lot of my time too.), and she had been doing some checking and found an informal group of kids nearby that are about my age and that are being home schooled, and they've been meeting several times a week with their parents sharing lesson plans and taking the group on field trips. So Mom contacted the other parents and asked if was okay for me to join the group and they had no objections so now I'm a member of the NWSHSG (Near West Side Home Schooled Group - try pronouncing that sometime). While I was a little nervous before I went to the first meeting, I was also looking forward to getting out of the house more and the first meeting that I attended was pretty interesting because they had a speaker from the local Zoo come in and talk about the new Penguin Exhibit they had just opened. It was neat because she had brought a young penguin along with her - and it got even neater when it pooped on the carpet. The only thing about the NWSHSG that I wasn't that wild about was that I was the only boy - the other seven were girl's. I was grousing about that a little to Mom after the first meeting and she got this surprised look on her face and asked, "You didn't know about Kennie?" "Kennie? That's a funny name for a girl." "Kennie isn't a girl, he's a boy." That kind of floored me. Now I admit that at the first meeting I hadn't really had a chance to talk to all the other kids and get to know them but I hadn't remembered any other boy being a part of the group. So at the next meeting I introduced myself to all the other kids and I found out who Kennie was. I swear, if I didn't know that he was a boy I would have been sure he was a girl. Now, things are pretty informal at the group with just about everybody just wearing jeans and a hoodie or a sweater, and sneakers - kind of unisex clothing - and Kennie just blended into the group with his jeans and gray sweatshirt. But he had this long hair pulled back in a ponytail. And he just ..... well ..... he just acted like a girl. He'd be off with a couple of the girls and they'd have their arms around each other and they'd all be giggling and talking about girl stuff. He was about the same height and weight as I am and has a very slim build - well, I guess I do too. But his mannerisms were so feminine that I would never have taken him for a boy. So, Kennie aside, all the other kids in the group were okay and I got to be close friends with a couple of them and really enjoyed and looked forward to our twice-weekly get togethers. Sophomore Year - Tracey has an in-ground pool at her house so the group decided to do a pool party at her house late in July. The weather really helped us out - it was 94 degrees and humid so the cool waters of the pool were a real attraction. We just lay around the pool, and jumped in occasionally to cool off, and scarfed up the snacks and sodas that we'd bought. Tracey had a pretty good tan but the rest of us were pretty white so there was a lot of high SPF sun block being applied. At first I felt a little out of place as I was wearing the same baggy swimming shorts that Mom bought for me back when I was in the eighth grade. All the others, including Kennie, were wearing two-piece suits, some of them pretty revealing - it was kind of, like, the more someone had to reveal, the skimpier the suit. Well, Kennie wasn't wearing the top of his suit, only the bottom and for the life of me it really looked like he didn't have any dick until I realized that he'd probably tucked it back between his legs. And, uh, the other thing about Kennie was that he didn't have any body hair, well, either he didn't have any or he'd shaved it off, or something, and his skin looked really smooth and soft - just like a girl's. Anyway, around suppertime Tracy's Dad cooked hamburgs and hotdogs and her Mom had made some potato salad so we didn't go hungry, and around 7 o'clock or so when it began to cool off we all headed home. A great day! I guess the parents thought that we had bonded so well as a home schoolers group that they should do something nice for us to emphasize our group's identity so they offered to pay for each of us to get a custom windbreaker - we just had to pick out the design and they'd pay for it. It wasn't hard for us to agree on a short windbreaker with a collar that could be snapped up when it got colder. And after a little discussion we agreed that the wording should be "The NWSHSG 8." Where there wasn't unanimous agreement was on the color. I wanted a dark color with light lettering while the girls wanted a pink fabric with light blue lettering. So we ended up voting on the choice of color and the vote was 7-to-1 against me - even that weirdo Kennie voted against me. When the windbreakers came several weeks later, I wasn't sure I wanted to wear mine - after all, guys don't generally wear pink colored clothes. But I didn't want to stand out from the group so I reluctantly began wearing mine. I guess that every year at Christmas time the group does a "Secret Santa" party where everyone draws the name of someone else in the group and buys a present for them - except that the person getting the present doesn't know who it's from. So when I got my present it was wrapped up but felt about the size of a CD case and I was hoping that it was the Jonas Brothers latest album. But when I opened it up I found that it was a computer game, "Man, I hope it's something with a little more action than Sim City 4," I thought. But when I examined it I found that it was "Disney's Princess Fashion Boutique," "What the hell?" I thought. I found out that the game allows you to create a model that looks like you - eye color, hair color, and body shape - except that all the body shapes are female - and if you want to you can even import a photograph of your face so that the model really looks like you. Once you've done that you can customize dresses with different styles, colors, and patterns, all with constant encouragement from the princess of your choice (Cinderella, Snow White or Sleeping Beauty) in the Princess Dressing Room. Once that's done you can animate your model and add music and a storyline. Man, did that gift gross me out! I mean, the software was pretty neat but the idea of creating a model that looked like me but with a girl's body and then creating dresses for the model really turned me off. So I took the CD home and just tossed it on the top of the desk in my bedroom. After Christmas was over with and before the home schooled group started up again, things were pretty boring. I was just hanging around the house and watching TV and browsing the Internet a little (except that Mom had set the parental controls on my computer so that I couldn't get to a lot of the more interesting sites). So one day I was just sitting at my desk, staring at the monitor and trying to figure out what I wanted to do when I looked down and saw the Disney CD. "Well, probably better to play with this, rather than being totally bored," I thought so I popped the CD in the drive and installed the program. The software wasn't too hard to learn how to use and within about an hour I'd developed a model that looked exactly like me from the neck up, but like a flat-chested girl from the neck down. "That's kind of ugly," I thought so I gave the model big breasts and wide hips. Then I designed a couple of dresses and ended up putting one on the model that was low cut and skintight to emphasize the breasts and hips, and which ended at mid-thigh. Then I animated the model and had it move around and all of a sudden I had, like, this huge erection. "Oh man, this is way, way too weird," I thought, "I'm, like, getting turned on by seeing what I'd look like as a girl with breasts and hips?" But of course you never want to waste an erection - so I didn't. I buried the model way down at the bottom of a tree of folders on my computer so that Mom wouldn't come across it if she checked on my computer. And since then whenever I'm bored I'll create a model of me as a girl and dress it up and masturbate. I mean, it's not that I want to BE a girl or anything - it's just kind of exciting to see what I would look like AS a girl. It was at our first meeting after Christmas Break that I realized there was something different about Kennie. It took me a minute or so before I realized that he was wearing - get this - makeup! He had this tan eyeshadow on, and it looked like he was wearing lip gloss, and he had on these big dangly earrings. The girls were telling him how nice he looked and he was, like, all blushing and giggly. I didn't say anything but I thought, "Man, you are some piece of work, kiddo." Well, we had an "interesting" field trip today. One of the kid's Moms had set up a field trip for our group to visit a beauty parlor. I wasn't at all interested in seeing what happened in a beauty parlor but I couldn't very well have backed out of the trip so I reluctantly went along. Actually, the first part of the tour when they talked about all the chemicals and equipment they used was pretty interesting. But then they told us that they'd demonstrate some of the things they did on one of the members of our group. So they had us draw slips of paper from a box and, OH CRAP, mine said "Winner" on it. I was trying to back out or trade my slip of paper with someone else but they were all teasing me with, "Come on Mickey. You can do it.," "What's the matter Mickey? Afraid?," "Oh come on, it won't take that long." - you get the idea. So I sighed in resignation and sat down in the stylist's chair. I couldn't really see what she was doing and she was explaining things to the group but it was so noisy that I could only catch an occasional word. She spent almost two hours trimming, and putting stuff on my hair and then more trimming. Now I hadn't paid a lot of attention to my hair, just getting it cut whenever Mom bugged me that it had gotten too long and shaggy - and the last time was over a year ago so it hung down to within an inch or two of my shoulders, and I could tell that the stylist was cutting some of it off but I couldn't tell how much. And of course the rest of the group was watching everything that she did and giggling a little every so often. Finally, just about as I was going to ask her to finish up soon so I could go off to the restroom and take a leak, she turned the chair around to face the mirror and said, "There. How does that look?" HOLY SHIT! Well, I guess that since this was a beauty parlor after all, I should have expected what kind of hairstyle they give patrons there, but she had given me a page boy style with my hair coming halfway down my forehead in the front and with long bangs on either side of my face. Also, my hair had been sort of a dark blond or light brown color but now it was a really dark brown color, almost black. Man, I had gone in with a boy's haircut and come out with a girl's hairstyle - and it didn't help that the kids in the group kept trying to cheer me up by telling me how "nice" and "cute" I looked - that didn't help my state of mind one bit. I think the worst part was when they dropped me off at my house and I went in and Mom saw me and gasped and then said, "Mickey ..... what ..... why ..... oh, you look ..... so ..... so pretty ..... oh, I mean 'nice', not pretty." And I burst into tears and ran up to my bedroom and slammed the door. I was so embarrassed about my new hairstyle that I didn't leave the house for weeks - well, except when I went to the homeschooler's group, of course. I've been doing some of the housework lately and I just used the added time at home to do a really thorough spring cleaning. And it wasn't like I hated doing the housework, well, except for cleaning the toilets, and it was kind of, like, well, relaxing to get up and make my breakfast and then put on a pair of Mom's old exercise clothes and spend several hours dusting and cleaning and washing windows and doing laundry and stuff like that. Junior Year - I guess that one of the parents came up with the idea that it would be a good learning experience to give each one of us the same budget for back-to-school clothes and then have us shop as a group to see who could stretch their money the farthest. That part was okay. But the part about being one guy in a group of seven girls (I no longer thought of Kennie as a guy anymore) meant that we spent most of our time shopping - guess where - in girl's clothing stores and departments. The girls were having a great time of it, running around and comparing prices and trying on the clothes while I was really bored and, like, "Just spend your money and get it over with so I can go buy my clothes." Guess it was because I was so bored that my mind kind of drifted off and all of a sudden I was thinking about how that computer model of me with a girl's body had looked in the dresses and I began to look around at the different styles of girl's clothing and occasionally imagining what I would look like in that particular piece of clothing. I snapped back to the real world when one of the girls saw me holding up a blouse against my chest and said, "That's not your style Mickey - you're too flat-chested," and all of the girls and Kennie laughed at me as I blushed and quickly put the blouse back on the rack. Eventually they'd all bought their clothes and they accompanied me to the boy's department where I picked out some jeans, slacks, shirts and a sweater. I guess I showed them how a guy can make decisions and not waste a lot of time shopping. They did talk me into buying a few brighter colors for the shirts and sweater than I would have chosen by myself (No Pink!) but I had to admit the yellows and pale greens and blues did look kinda nice when I got home and tried them on again. It had taken me awhile to get used to my page boy hair style - well, "awhile" was several months, but I finally did get used to seeing this girlish looking face staring back at me when I looked in the mirror. I mean, most of the boy's hairstyles were like, well, kind of "sloppy" and everyone else in the group had these nicer and neater hairstyles so why shouldn't I? And it felt kind of "nice" while I was brushing and combing and arranging my hair every morning. But it was in the fall when the weather was getting colder that I noticed that my hair didn't look as nice as it had at the beauty parlor. Well, the style was the same but my hair had grown out and you could see the dirty blond at the roots which contrasted with the dark brown/black of the rest of my hair. Finally, one of the kids in the group got me aside and kind of hinted that I should get me hair touched up so that the "..... roots didn't show." So I bugged Mom and she made an appointment for me at the beauty parlor and the next Saturday she drove me over and the stylist trimmed my hair a little and colored it to a uniform dark brown/black shade. She didn't trim it much in the front it and it now covers up my eyebrows and my ears and falls to my shoulders. I asked her if it wasn't kind of long and she said that was the popular style now, but that she could shorten it if I wished. I thought for a few moments and then told her that if that was the popular style that she could leave it that way, even though it did cover up my earrings. I was getting ready to get up out of the stylist's chair when she said that they had a special that weekend - with every hair styling, the patron got a free manicure and set of nail extensions. I kind of looked at Mom and she just shrugged as if to say, "It's your body," so I smiled at the stylist and told her to go ahead. The following Tuesday I was showing my nail extensions to the other kids in the group and they were all, like, admiring them and complementing me on the pink color that I had picked out. Guess what I got from my Secret Santa at Christmas - a makeup kit! Whoever had gotten it for me had gone to a lot of trouble to put it together, it contained eyeshadow and liner, lipstick and shimmer, mascara and blush - and there was even a small "Makeup for Dummies" book packed in with the other things. Luckily I had several weeks over the Christmas holiday to experiment with the makeup because my first tries were, like, disasters. The first time I put on way too much of everything and when Mom saw me she burst out in laughter and that made me cry but she got the mess cleaned off and helped me reapply the makeup so that it really looked nice. "Less is more," she told me. The first time the other kids in the group saw me wearing makeup they were all, like, telling me how nice it looked and hugging me, and asking which brands I had used and asking me how I had applied it. Mom had given me several blouses for Christmas and I had worn a white one with a frilly collar that day and they were complementing me on that as well. Mom and I decided to go out to dinner tonight and something funny happened. When the waiter came back to our table to take our orders he asked, "And what will the ladies be having tonight?" I started to correct him and tell him that I was really a guy but I never got past, "Actually, I'm .....," before Mom gently kicked me under the table and pursed her lips and made a soft shushing noise. I looked over at her and she had this smile on her face and then I saw how funny the situation was and smiled and giggled a little and then she laughed and that got me going and soon we were roaring with laughter and the folks at the other tables were staring at us and trying to see what was so funny and the waiter was just standing there with this, "What the fuck," look on his face. Man, that was so funny. As I was getting dressed the other day and looking at the reflection in the full length mirror in my bedroom, with my slacks and blouse and hairstyle and makeup, I realized how ..... well ..... how feminine I looked. Of course, I did look kind of like an underdeveloped girl with slim hips and no breasts - but a girl nevertheless. And to be honest I was conflicted. After all I was a boy, and I wanted to stay a boy. But I also like to dress up nicely and wear makeup and a hairstyle that lets me fit in with the other kids in the group. "So, what's wrong with looking nice," I thought as I pulled on my white open-toed sandals (so you could see the pretty pink toenail polish that I'm using), and admired how I looked in my mirror as I got this big erection which I tucked down into my panties before I went down to breakfast. The NWSHSG has been going on a number of field trips to investigate various occupations and career choices. Some of them looked pretty interesting and some of them were the pits: Secretary or Administrative Assistant - Okay if you want to sit behind a desk all day and get yelled at by your boss. Registered Nurse - Good job but you have to go to school for years. Cashiers - No way, you have to stand on your feet all day and the pay sucks. Waitress - Better than a cashier - at least you get tips - but you're still on your feet all day and have to put up with rude customers. Childcare workers - The pay isn't that great but the kids are fun to work with. Maids and housekeeping - Doesn't require a lot of training but the pay isn't that great and who wants to spend their days cleaning up after someone else? Hairdressers or hairstylists - Probably fun at first but how about after you've been doing it for ten years? Anyway, the field trips were fun and got us thinking about what we wanted to do after high school. Senior Year - The pool party at Tracy's two summers ago had been so much fun that we'd wanted to have a party last summer but I guess there were some problems with cracks in the concrete liner or something so her Dad never opened up the pool that summer. But the repairs had been made, the pool had been opened up, and the last party had been so much fun that we decided to have two parties this year, one in July and one in August. Kennie was the only one in the group who didn't show up for the July party - nobody had heard from him for about four weeks. I'd ditched my boys swim shorts over the winter and bought a girl's two- piece bikini. I ordered it from Victoria's Secret and when it arrived I found that I'd miscalculated which size I needed so I had to send it back and get a smaller size. But the smaller size fit me pretty well - I even tried on the top to see how that would look but it looked really strange to see the loose fabric of the empty cups on my chest. I tried stuffing them with tissue and that looked even stranger - like, I looked like I had these two misshapen and lumpy breasts and one was bigger than the other - really gross looking - so I just took off the top and stuffed it in my dresser drawer and wore the bottom to the party. I didn't want to do the "Kennie thing" and tuck my dick back down between my legs so I just arranged it the same way I did in my panties - lying across the top of my left leg. It made a pretty good sized bulge under the thin, tight fabric of the bottom of my suit but that didn't bother me. I noticed some of the other kids staring at it but that didn't bother me either. I guess that I should probably exercise more, or maybe eat a little less, as I've slowly gained weight over the past year or so and I now weigh almost 145. Now I'm not fat or anything but my body looks a little softer and more rounded. A little of the weight gain has gone to my hips and rear end and I even have a noticeable "waist" now - not big but it's there if you look for it. And as I was lying in the sun at the pool party I noticed that I've developed this soft rounded tummy that bulges out just a little over the top of my bikini. "Just like the other kids in the group," I thought as I rubbed some sun block on it. Everyone in the group was able to make it to the August pool party, and again the weather was great. About the only difference was that as I glanced at Kennie I noticed that he was wearing both the top and the bottom of his bikini this time. "Wonder what he stuffed in the cups?" I thought and looked at him a little more closely, and then stopped and stared at his chest. Could that be? No way. But it sure ..... well ..... it looked like ..... OHMYGOD! Kennie has breasts! It was just about that time that the other kids realized what had happened and in moments we were all gathered around him and staring at his chest. And Kennie just had this big shit eating grin on his face as he said, "Breast implants." Oh wow, so that's why we hadn't seen him for over eight weeks! So we're all throwing questions at him like did it hurt, and how much did it cost, and where did he have it done, and did they look like real ones? At that one, Kennie just looked around to make sure that no parents could see us and he reached behind his back and unsnapped the bikini top and pulled it off to expose his breasts. Oh My God - they were beautiful and I could feel my dick starting to get hard. They looked so natural and they were pretty good sized, like maybe a B-cup, but they didn't sag down, and they had these big pink nipples sitting atop puffy pink areas. Without realizing what I was doing I reached out with my right hand to feel one but Kennie smiled and gently slapped my hand away as he said, "Don't touch the merchandise." Just then we heard someone coming out of the house so Kennie hurredly put his bikini top back on. All during the rest of the pool party I found my eyes drawn to Kennie's chest and the two soft mounds that bulged out of his bikini top and formed an inch or so of cleavage, and how they bounced and jiggled a little as he moved. "Man, I wonder what it must feel like to have breasts?" I kept thinking. I went back-to-school shopping with several other kids from the group at the end of summer. This year I didn't buy any clothes from the Boy's Department at all - did all my shopping in the Girl's Department and also bought a few items at Victoria's Secret. I was having some trouble figuring out what size to buy and how to make sure that the styles and colors coordinated but the other kids were giving me lots of help. We'd gotten to the mall around 10am and it wasn't till my stomach started sending me some signals that I realized that it was now approaching 4pm and I'd had so much fun shopping and gossiping with the other kids that I had completely lost track of time. One of the kids in the group is named Kym and she's usually one of the happiest, outgoing cheerful kids in the group but lately she's been, like, distracted and almost kind of gloomy. A couple of the other kids have asked her if there's anything wrong and whether any of us can do anything for her but she just sort of brushes us off. Hope it's nothing serious. Since my appearance is so completely feminine now, what with the girl's clothes and all, I have to be a little more careful about a few things. I was at the mall by myself this afternoon and just browsing through some of the latest girl's fashions in the stores when I realized that I had to take a leak, and like RIGHT NOW! So I headed off to the restrooms and without thinking about it walked into the Men's Room. There was a young man at one of the urinals and as I walked past he stared at me and his jaw dropped. Ohmygod! I'd entered the Men's Room! I squealed, "Oh Gosh! I'm in the wrong room! I'm so sorry!" And I turned around and ran out of the Men's Room - surprising a couple of teenage boys who were entering it at the time - and slowed down and walked into the Lady's Room and found an empty stall and entered it, shut the door, sat on the toilet and took a leak, and then just sat there for several more minutes as my breathing and heart rate returned to normal. I woke up early this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. I was just sort of idly playing with myself to pass the time - not really trying to masturbate or anything. Then my thoughts drifted to Kennie and his breasts, well, "implants" if you want to get technical, and how they looked and bounced and jiggled a little as he moved and man, all of a sudden I was rock hard and squirting my load. By November Kym was still acting strange and she'd changed the style of clothes that she was wearing. She'd always been very fashion conscious and she liked to wear tight-fitting clothes that showed off her figure but now she was wearing these big floppy tops that hung down almost to her knees. Well, the group was having a small pre-Thanksgiving party and the mystery of Kym was solved when she announced that she was pregnant - and over six months along. The rest of us were stunned - well, maybe not that she had been having sex - most of the kids in the group have dated other kids on and off - except me of course - and Kennie, I wonder what he would date? Anyway, Lyn was the first to break the silence when she blurted out, "This isn't some kind of joke is it? I mean, are you really knocked up?" And then she kind of gasped as she realized what she'd just said. Tears welled up in Kym's eyes and she lifted up her top to reveal her swollen belly. "Does this look like some kind of fucking joke?" She asked and began sobbing. The rest of us were like, "Oh man, what do we do now," and we instinctively gathered around Kym and we were all hugging each other and sobbing along with her. After everyone got calmed down Kym gave us the rest of the story - back in the spring she had been dating one of the guys on the soccer team and he'd gotten her pregnant in May. He claimed that he'd worn a condom but Kym doesn't believe him and now he doesn't want to have anything to do with her. Kym's parents weren't too much help when she turned to them - her family is strict Catholic and they ruled out an abortion in no uncertain terms. So now she's trying to decide whether to put the baby up for adoption or raise it herself as a single mom. At that point we all started crying again. Well, Kym decided to have the baby and put it up for adoption and she had a perfect baby boy in mid-February. At 10 pounds, 2 ounces he was a big little guy and I guess that shouldn't have surprised us as she had been keeping us informed of everything that was happening, like, letting us feel her belly when he began kicking her. That was really weird to be looking at her swollen belly and see these little bumps pop out for a second or so as he kicked. At the end her belly wasn't huge, it was monstrous - sticking out more than a foot in front of her. And her navel had "popped" and now stuck out over an inch. Because of all the weight she'd gained Kym spent as much time as possible sitting down and it was funny to watch her - she'd be carrying on a conversation and without realizing it her hands would be down on her belly, gently rubbing and massaging it Well, and the other things that were monstrous were her breasts. She had shown them to us several times and as she got closer to her due date they had turned into these huge swollen sacks that hung down to her elbows on either side of her belly. Oh man, I know that Kym was one of my closest friends but I couldn't control myself - every time I saw her huge breasts I'd get this big erection and I'd frequently fantasize about playing with her breasts, or even having huge breasts like hers, when I masturbated. Kennie confided in the group in the spring that when he's several years older that he's going to have something called, "reassignment surgery." He wouldn't go into a lot of detail but several of us googled it and it sounded really gross - like they cut off your balls and dick (at the thought of that my dick shriveled up a little) and then they construct an artificial pussy or something like that - the idea of having my balls and dick cut off almost made me want to throw up! I've been doing some thinking lately and while I'd never even consider reassignment surgery, I was wondering what it would be like to have breast implants. I mean, my balls and dick are the favorite two parts of my body, and just think, if I could have breasts I'd have a third favorite part. I think I'll ask Kennie more about the process that he went through to get his breasts. So anyway, Mom has been asking me what I want as a graduation present and I've been putting her off - it's not that I don't know what I want, I just haven't gotten up the courage to tell her. Well, I finally got up the courage to tell Mom what I wanted as a graduation present - breasts! She was really grossed out at first but I finally got her calmed down and explained to her that I didn't want to get rid of my, well, my "boy parts" but that I just wanted to add a couple of "girl parts" and I told her what I'd learned from Kennie and showed her some of the brochures and online information that I'd gotten from a number of different plastic surgeons. She was still dubious but agreed to accompany me to a couple of consultations with plastic surgeons - and while the surgery wasn't inexpensive it could be done on an out-patient basis and there were minimal risks. So I kept bugging Mom and she finally agreed to pay for the operation and we scheduled it for early summer. Oh man, was I sore for several weeks, and it felt really strange to have these tight surgical dressings on my chest, and the added weight on my chest took some getting used to, but eventually everything healed up and golly, you should have heard the compliments (except from Kennie who just looked jealous) I got from the other kids in the group the first time that they saw my C-cup breasts bulging out of the top of my low-cut Victoria's Secret bra! After Graduation - Our parents decided that since the group had been together for four years and we'd now all graduated that a trip to celebrate the occasion was in order - so they set us up with a four day trip to Niagara Falls. They chartered a bus which we boarded in mid-morning for the long drive, arriving at the motel on the Canadian side where they'd made reservations around suppertime. Two of the parents had accompanied us to act as chaperones and as we carried our luggage into the motel lobby they handed out our room assignments to us - to keep costs down we were assigned two to a room - which was okay with me till I found out that my roommate would be - get this - Kennie! I could tell that Kennie wasn't all that enthusiastic about having me as a roommate - even for four nights - as we both kind of, like, pretended that there wasn't another person in the room as we unpacked, put on some nicer clothes, and touched up our makeup as we prepared to go out for supper. Gosh was that a great meal! We took an elevator up to the top of something called the Skylon Tower where they had this circular restaurant with a great view of the falls. And as the sun set and the lights came on that illuminated the falls we could watch them as they cycled through the colors. The only embarrassing part was that the floor of the restaurant, like, rotated - which was really cool as we could watch the view from our table slowly change - but when we sat down I'd placed my purse on the ledge by the window and when I reached for it later to get a tissue - it was gone! At first I thought that someone had stolen it but then I realized that while the floor of the restaurant rotated, the window ledge didn't, and my purse was now on the other side of the room. But when I asked him, our waiter retrieved it for me so everything was okay. Well, okay, except for when Tracy wrote a note, "Help! I'm being kidnapped. Please call the police!" And folded it up and left it on the window ledge and a couple several tables away picked it up and the man used his cellphone to call 911 and it took our chaperones awhile to get the cops and the restaurant staff calmed down. Guess we had to leave them, like, a really, really big tip after that incident. The next day we just took it easy and went to a mall and played some video games and shopped for souvenirs. In the afternoon we went to the Ripley's "Believe It Or Not" Museum and saw some neat stuff - and some really gross stuff as well. In the evening we went to a nearby Italian restaurant and had this huge meal and walked back to the motel feeling really, really stuffed. Both Kennie and I were tired after the activities of the last two days so we just stripped down to our panties and put on our nighties and crawled into our beds and went to sleep. It was the middle of the night when I awoke and realized that I had to take a leak so I got up and went to the bathroom and then got back in bed and waited to fall asleep. But I didn't fall asleep right away and that's why I heard this noise in the room and I couldn't figure out what it was at first and then I realized that it was Kennie sobbing. Finally, after what seemed like ages, I got out of my bed and went over and sat on the side of his bed and asked, "Are you, like, okay? Or are you sick or something? Is there anything I can do?" Like, I really didn't care why he was crying - I just wanted him to quit so I could get to sleep - but I figured that I at least had to see if there was anything I could do to get him to quit crying. So all of a sudden Kennie sits up in bed and throws his arms around me and buries his face against my shoulder and starts sobbing really hard. And I'm, like, "What the heck do I do now?" But I put my arms around him and pulled his body against mine and just held him till his sobs finally died out. To tell the truth, sitting there in bed with our arms around each other and snuggled up with our breasts rubbing against each other I was getting kind of, well, turned on and I was thinking that this was getting way, way too weird when Kennie started talking. He kept going on and on about how he felt like some kind of a freak - a girl trapped in a boy's body and how everybody thought he was a weirdo - except for the kids in the group who accepted him as he was - and he was scared about what he'd do now that the homeschooled group was breaking up. And I'm just, like, hugging him and rubbing his back and just letting him talk and talk. As he was talking I remembered how bad I'd felt after my Dad died and how sad I had been and I started feeling, well, kind of sorry for Kennie and I kissed him and started telling him how I had felt after my Dad died and how everything would work out okay for him. And we just sat on the bed, hugging and talking until we suddenly realized that we had talked through the night and the sun had risen and we needed to get ready if we weren't to be late for breakfast. When we met the rest of the group in the restaurant they noticed our bloodshot eyes and asked us if anything was wrong. "Oh, just didn't sleep very well," Kennie mumbled and we both blushed. So anyway, after that night Kennie and I spent the rest of the trip as a "group of two," getting to know each other better and I decided that he really wasn't such a weirdo after all. As we were sitting next to each other on the bus ride home I looked over at Kennie who was dozing with his head against the window and I thought, "Wow, I've got a new best friend." After the trip, the group was preparing to split up with some of us staying in town, others going off to a 2-year or 4-year college, and some just moving out of town to get jobs or to be with their "significant others" so we decided to have one last pool party at the end of summer. Kennie and I had gone to Victoria's Secret and gotten matching bikinis and the day of the party he drove over to my house and picked me up and when we walked into the pool area in Tracy's backyard several of the kids stared at us and one of them said, "Oh gosh, you two look just like twins," and someone said, "Yeah, but Mickey's got bigger tits," and Kennie looked annoyed while I just giggled. So we all just had a good time and talked about all the fun things we had done in the past and what our plans were for the future. The only one who didn't really join in the conversation was Kym who was pretty quiet. I was also surprised by how heavy she had gotten since her pregnancy. She hadn't lost the weight that she'd gained while pregnant and in fact looked like she had continued to gain weight and was now way over 200 pounds. What was worse was that she was still wearing a bikini instead of a bathing suit that would have covered and shaped her body better, and the result was that her top just barely covered up the nipples down near the bottom of the huge breasts that hung down nearly to her waist, and her belly had become this huge roll of fat that hung down nearly to her knees and completely covered up her bikini bottom. "Man, I hope she gets that appetite under control," I thought as I watched her waddle over to the table for another plateful of macaroni salad. Sharing An Apartment With Kennie - Since the homeschooling classes ended when we all got our GEDs at the beginning of the summer, I've just been hanging around our house and taking it easy, or over at Kennie's house hanging around with him. Mom's been on my case do something more. "What more?" I asked, "Like, I'm doing all the housework and cleaning and cooking. What more do you want me to do?" "Well I appreciate the work you do around the house but do you want to do that all your life? Don't you want some kind of career?" I didn't even want to continue that discussion with her so I stomped up the stairs to my bedroom, called Kennie, and he drove over and picked me up and we went to see a movie. After the movie we stopped to get a pizza and I told him how Mom had been getting on my case lately. "Well, ya know," he said, "I've just been accepted as an apprentice at the new hair styling salon that just opened up and with the money that I'll be making, including tips, I can just afford a small apartment. Ya think ya might want to move in with me?" Man, it didn't take me long to accept that offer and Kennie and I spent the next week hunting for apartments and finally found a small one-bedroom apartment that we could afford, signed the lease and moved in. The first month that we were in our apartment Kennie would go off to his hair stylists job during the day and I'd spend the day cleaning the apartment, cooking and doing what decorating we could afford on our limited budget. But after things were under control in the apartment, I found that I was getting kind of bored and just lounging around the apartment and watching game shows on the TV most of the day. What was worse was that since I wasn't getting much exercise I'd gained about ten pounds and was beginning to look a little chubby. I was complaining about my weight gain to Kennie last night and his only comment was that, "As long as it's all in your tits, that's fine with me." I just blushed because several weeks ago he'd bought me some of these really low-cut and tight tops and pretty much all of my breasts except for the nipples were exposed. I didn't mind wearing them around the apartment because I knew how much he admired the "girls" as he called them, but I was kind of shy about exposing myself that much in public and had only recently begun wearing them when I left the apartment - man, was I getting checked out by the guys! It's funny, I know that I like to look at Kennie's perky little breasts whenever they're exposed when he's showering or dressing, and I know how much he likes to look at my bigger "girls" when I'm showering or even when they're mostly revealed by the tops that he bought for me. But it's not like there's any "sexual stuff" going on between us. Oh, occasionally we'll hug or kiss when he goes off to work or comes home, and occasionally when we're watching TV we'll snuggle up against each other and hold hands. But our relationship is more like the close bond between two sisters who are really just each other's best friend. About a month ago we'd just been hanging around the apartment on Sunday morning, reading the morning paper and watching TV, and since it was just the two of us and the apartment was kind of warm we were wearing only our panties. Anyway, at one point Kennie handed me a section of the paper and said, "Ya think that you might be interested in this?" I looked at what he'd handed me and it was an ad in the classified section from a new chain restaurant that was opening up several blocks away that wanted to hire waitresses, bartenders, kitchen help - pretty much every skill required for the restaurant. "Well, the pay isn't all that great, and I don't have a lot of experience, but it's close enough that I could walk to and from work, so I guess I'll go in tomorrow and check it out." So I did - and was hired on the spot. The interview was so funny. I figured that if I got hired at all it would be for kitchen work or something but there was this thirty-something guy doing the interviewing and all the time he was talking to me he was, like, staring at my "girls" and when I realized this I thought that I'd have a little fun so I bent forward to give him a better view down into my top and then I faked a couple of small coughs that made my "girls" jiggle and shake a little. That was when he hired me. The first thing about the job that took some getting used to were the uniforms that the chain wanted the waitresses to wear. The chain has a country & western theme and we wear cowboy hats and the white tops are cut low and short in the front so that your cleavage and midriff are exposed and they fit you with tops that are a little on the small size so the tops are skintight - they don't want us to wear bras so there's not much left to the imagination. The bottoms are shorts of a tan stretchy fabric and again, they're cut tight, low and short so that you are covered up - but just barely. The first time Kennie saw me putting on my uniform before heading off to work his comment was, "Holy Shit! I gotta start eating at that restaurant." The more experienced girls were pretty good about showing me the ropes and I was a fast learner so after about a week I was pretty good at my job. One of the girls got me aside after a couple of weeks and said, "Look Mickey, I know that you're not getting the tips that the rest of us are. You have to work the customers more." "Work the customers?" "Yeah, play up to the guys. And when you take their orders squat down on the floor a little and lean forward so they can peek down into your top. And when you're serving them, get close enough so that your tits brush against their shoulder or arm just a little. And kid around with them a little and smile and giggle a lot - they like that." So I did as she had suggested and sure enough, my tips more than doubled. Being on my feet all day at the restaurant was tiring and sometimes when I came home at the end of the day I'd just lie down on the couch and fall asleep. After about a week of this Kennie handed me a large bottle full of small yellow pills and said, "You've been looking pretty rundown lately. Here are some vitamins that will give you some more energy." "But there's no label on the bottle," I said. "That's because they're generic and when I buy them in bulk to save money that's the way they come packaged." I just shrugged and agreed to start taking one every morning. The other thing about tips was that the restaurant puts a monthly summary of the tips earned by all the waitresses up on the bulletin board as a kind of scorecard. After a couple of months I noticed something funny - some waitresses that were working about the same hours as the others, and that were not that much better at working the customers than the other waitresses were making quite a bit more in tips than the other waitresses. It was kind of quite one night and I was watching one of the other waitresses serving one of her tables. Cherry, I swear - that's her real name - or at least so she tells everyone - has got a really good figure - another way of putting it is that she's "stacked" - she must be carrying around a pair of DD's on her chest. And then I remembered that she had almost the highest tips of anyone, and that started me thinking and then it came to me - the bigger a girl's breasts - the more she made in tips! After thinking about it for a week or so I asked Kennie, "Uh ..... Kennie ..... like, uh ..... would it bother you if my breasts were a little ..... like ..... bigger?" "So, you're thinking about having surgery to put in larger implants?" "Well, I think if I'm bigger that I'll get better tips at the restaurant. Plus, when I had these implants put in," and I cupped the "girls" with my hands and jiggled them a little, "The doctor put in a new kind of implant that has a 'port' or something like that and to change their size he just takes a syringe and pushes the needle through my skin and into the implant through the port and just adds or removes the silicone gel. He said that he uses a local anesthetic so that I won't feel anything except maybe a slight tugging sensation." "How big you thinking of getting?" "Well, at least a D-cup if that doesn't gross you out." Kennie just grinned and said, "The bigger the better." And that's how I ended up with a 42DD bra supporting my heavy breasts. When I'd been a C-cup size I could get by without wearing a bra but the added weight now makes it uncomfortable to go without support for too long - except when I'm working at the restaurant when of course I don't wear a bra and really turn the customers on when they see my skimpy top molded to my heavy breasts. And gosh do I get the tips these days! Wearing Diapers - I was jolted awake in the middle of the night when I heard Kennie exclaim, "SHIT! DAMN!" "Huh? Wha ..... what's the matter," I sleepily asked. "The damn bed's all wet." That was when I realized that the bed, and my side especially, was really wet and really cold. Oh man, I'd pissed myself while I was sleeping! For the past month or so I'd been having a little problem with "dribbling" when I went to take a leak, and sometimes even a little "leakage" in between trips to the bathroom, but there hadn't been all that much and an absorbent pad stuffed down into my panties had taken care of the problem, but this was the first time that I had, like, totally lost control. "Oh man, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have had that last beer before we went to bed. Go and sit in the living room while I clean this mess up." "Hey. Accidents happen," Kennie said as he left the bedroom. Luckily the sheets and mattress cover had soaked up most of the liquid and the mattress itself was barely damp so I pulled off the wet bedclothes and tossed them in the corner to be dealt with in the morning, and put dry sheets and blankets on the bed, changed into a dry pair of panties, and Kennie and I returned to the bed. It took me awhile to get back to sleep - I was really embarrassed about wetting the bed and I hoped that I'd remain dry for the rest of the night. When I woke up next morning and remembered what had happened earlier, I reached down and felt the sheets beneath me to see if they were wet or dry. Well, the crotch of my panties was a little wet but at least the sheets were dry so that was okay. As we were getting ready for bed that evening, Kennie tossed me something and said, "Here, put this on." Oh man, he'd tossed me a disposable diaper. I guess he noticed the look of concern on my face because he continued, "Look, if you're going to sleep in the same bed with me you can't wet the bed, so put it on." So I put it on. Other than the fact that it came up to my navel, and was about a quarter of an inch thick, and the plastic outer layer made a little crinkling sound when I moved, it wasn't too bad and I quickly got used to its feel and didn't think anything more about it that night. When I awoke the next morning everything felt nice and warm and dry "down there" and I was thinking, "Guess I didn't need to wear the disposable last night," but then I realized that it felt, well, like, thicker than it had last night and it was bulkier between my legs and as I reached down and patted it, it felt thicker and firmer under my fingers. I got out of bed and looked down and wow - it was all swollen with the liquid that it had absorbed during the night. So I had wet myself after all, but at least the disposable had contained it. As I walked to the bathroom to take it off and dry myself, I could feel it sagging down and squishing between my legs from the weight of all the liquid that it contained and the formerly white absorbent material that it was lined with was now a dark yellow color. "Guess Kennie had the right idea after all," I thought as I let it slide down to my feet and then picked it up and dropped it in the wastebasket. So since that first time I've been pulling on a disposable every night before getting into bed - and almost every morning when I wake up I'll find that the disposable is saturated. The only problem that I had was that after the sodden disposables had been in the wastebasket for a couple of days they started to smell really bad and the bathroom was pretty stinky. Kennie solved that problem for me by giving me a bunch of those cheap plastic bags that they use to hold your groceries at the supermarket and every morning when I take off my disposable I'll wrap it in one of those bags so that the bathroom doesn't get all stinky. Kennie and I were watching TV the other night and at one point he turned to me and asked, "Why are you doing that?" "Doing what?" "You were sucking on your thumb." Well, I had to admit that he was right. I guess I had been sucking on my thumb even though I hadn't been doing it consciously. Several times in the last couple of weeks I've realized that my thumb had kind of, like, "made its way up to my mouth" and I had been sucking on it. The first couple of times I thought, "What the heck's going on," and quickly removed it from my mouth. But after that it didn't bother me to find myself sucking on my thumb - it feels kind of, like, "comforting" or something. "Oh that? It just feels good," I replied and returned to watching TV and sucking my thumb. Kennie told me that I still looked a little tired to him and suggested that I take more of the vitamins, so now I'm taking one in the morning and one more in the evening. I had an argument with Kennie today. He'd bought a pair of stretch jeans in a bright red color and when he went to wash them for the first time he threw in a bunch of my clothes as well. I guess the jeans released some red dye or something into the washwater as two of my favorite white blouses are now pink. I was holding them up and complaining to Kennie about what he'd done and I guess that I was pouting and sniffling a little for he just shook his head and told me to, "..... stop being such a crybaby," and that seemed so unfair to me - after all it was him who ruined my favorite blouses, not me - that I began to cry in earnest. Kennie just stepped back and looked at me and then down at the floor and then back up to me before he said, "And you're going to have to clean that up too." I looked down and realized that I'd wet myself without realizing it and there was pee trickling down my legs and forming a pool around my bare feet on the floor. That really upset me and I began sobbing really loud and all of a sudden I felt this funny feeling as this warm stuff began coming out into my panties and I realized that I'd not only wet myself, I'd pooped myself as well. Kennie just got this disgusted look on his face and turned and left the apartment, leaving me to clean up the messes that I'd made and then to comfort myself by sucking on my thumb. Even though Kennie can be pretty bossy at times it is nice to have her remind me of the things that I need to do and kind of watch out and take care of me - that's funny, I just realized that I'm thinking of Kennie as "her" and not "him" anymore. I think that Kennie is sorry that she called me a crybaby several weeks ago, at least she's being nicer to me now. She's started fixing breakfast for me every day. At first I wished that she'd fix something a little more "interesting" than oatmeal or cream of wheat, but I got to like them and look forward to getting out of bed in the morning and finding a big bowl of warm cereal waiting for m