Stolen Identity free porn video

Stolen Identity By Cheryl Lynn This work of fiction may be downloaded for personal use only. No authority is given for any other purpose without permission of the author. Any relationship between this story and actual events or people is purely by accident. If you do not like female domination or forced feminizations DO NOT READ. You have been warned so do not post derogatory comments. Comments of a constructive nature are always welcome at [email protected]. Stolen Identity In the beginning I was all male. I enjoyed many different sports and participated in several. I wasn't a star athlete but I didn't sit on the bench all the time. I always tried my best and never missed a practice. On the last day of my junior year of high school football, my coach even complimented me by saying that when I filled out I could be a first stringer. At the time I was five foot five and weighed one twenty. Not that much muscle. I figured with weight training I could add real muscle mass by the time puberty kicked in. Unlike a lot of my fellow teammates, my body was a slow starter. I had some hair sprouting under my arms and on my pubes but not nearly as thick and dark as the other guys. I wished that I had hair on my face and chest but no matter how hard I looked couldn't see a single one. My face still had the look of childhood innocence and was framed by my shoulder length light brown hair. So when the coach complimented me that really made my day. Looking back that was probably the best day of my life. Well, maybe not the best. The best had to be meeting Jennie. That winter we became a couple and she even agreed to be my "steady" girlfriend. That Spring I tried out for the school's baseball team and was pleased to be selected to the second string. I got to play in only one game. We were leading by a score of seven to one in the eighth, so the coach sent me and two other new guys to play outfield. Nothing happened yet getting to play was a blast. Playing was another high point that year and then Jennie let me get to second base. Things just couldn't get any better and life was good. Near the end of summer break everything changed. My parents were killed in an automobile accident. Being an only child with no living relatives I was placed into foster care. All the insurance and money from the sale of my home was placed into a state controlled trust fund until I turned twenty-one. It was bad enough losing my parents but I felt that I was old enough to be on my own. The money I would inherit was more than enough to see me through most of my life without having to work. I objected to the state taking control of my funds and treating me like a stupid child. I made it very clear to the Social Services Administrator, Mrs. Sinclair, what I thought of her and her lawyer husband who would be in control of my trust funds. Any idiot knows that when the government gets its hands on money, it dwindles away to practically nothing. I didn't want that to happen to my money. It was all that I had left. Unfortunately for me, I was escorted out of her office by a policeman who took me to the juvenile center. There I was assigned to a cot and locker until such time that I could be placed in foster care. I don't know how I managed it but I made it through two weeks living in that shit hole without getting beaten to a pulp or worse. Finally, Mrs. Sinclair showed up and told me that the state had found a foster home that would take me. She mentioned that since I had a significant trust fund that all the costs of housing and my up keep would be paid for by my trust account. Now that really pissed me off. "Look here Mrs. Sinclair, if my money is gonna pay for my foster care then damn it, let me live on my own. I'm seventeen and old enough to take care of myself," I told her. "Forget it boy! The State is responsible for you until you reach your majority. The rules are the rules and you will go and do as we tell you. Of course, if you decide to refuse foster care, we can always keep you in the juvenile care center. So what's it going to be?" she replied. My luck at the juvie center had been good so far but I knew that couldn't last. It would be only a matter of days before one of the toughs claimed my ass. I certainly didn't want that, so I had to accept foster care. There were no available foster homes located in suburbia and I was delivered into the care of Mr. and Mrs. James Brown. They lived in a mixed ethnic part of the city. They had one nineteen year old daughter, Arithia, and two other female foster children. Maria Rosa was eighteen and Amy Jo was my age. Arithia was a big, black as the ace of spades, woman like her mother with a very dominant attitude. Her hair was a mass of fuzzy dread locks and her two front teeth had been gold capped. Maria Rosa was a short somewhat over weight Latino who preferred to be called Rosa. She had straight black hair that almost reached the middle of her back. She has pretty, full lips and a complexion like a dark caf? a latte. There are many tattoos on her fingers, wrist and upper arm. On each finger at the first knuckle are dark ink letters. When I had the chance to really look at them they spelled out the name of her former boyfriend. On her right wrist was a crudely inked thorny bramble. Her upper left arm had another crude red heart. I was told later that her old boyfriend had done the tattoos for her and that it was a tradition in the barrio from which she came. Amy Jo was slim and lithe with red curly hair, freckled face and pale white skin. She had that pinched in face look that gave her an air of aloofness. They all exhibited an air of superiority. I have to admit that none of them were nearly as pretty as my Jennie. As far as Mr. and Mrs. James Brown were concerned, I had never encountered anyone like them before. Mr. Brown was at least six inches shorter than his wife, had a pot belly and seemed to be somewhat frail. His hairline was receding, cut very short and a kinky grey-black. He could have been either white or black but it was hard to tell. I found out later that his father had been Italian and his mother a Jamaican. Mrs. Brown was a big woman. She was at least six foot tall, very full breasts and of large girth. Her hair was plaited with lots of bright beads woven in and hung down to her shoulders. As the social worker and Mrs. Brown sat at the kitchen table signing, sealing and delivering me into their care, it was obvious that Mrs. Brown ruled the roost. Mr. Brown sitting by his wife's side didn't say more than two words which were "yes dear." As the last paper was being signed, Mrs. Brown told me to go sit in the living room so they could talk in private. I have no idea what was said in the kitchen but was surprised when Mrs. Sinclair said on departing that she would see me in a year. I was under the impression that social services would pay more attention to their wards than seeing them just once every year. I was young and naive in the ways of the world at that time. I had no idea of what was about to happen and the drastic changes it made in my life. Immediately after she left, Mrs. Brown came into the living room and informed me of the house rules. 1. What she said was law. I was to obey her immediately and happily, 2. Any infraction of rule one would be quickly punished, 3. I would share the chores around the house like everyone else, 4. Any infraction of rule two would be quickly punished, 5. When she wasn't around, her daughter Arithia would be in charge, 6. There would be no horse play or any other disruptive behavior; and, 7. Absolutely no dating or sexual involvement with any of the other girls. Her rules sounded reasonable at the time and I offered no objections. I did think it a bit strange when she did not mention Mr. Smith. She then led me to my room. It was small containing a twin bed, side table, lamp and alarm clock, a chest of drawers and vanity desk completed the furnishings. The furniture looked well used but neat and clean. What she did next surprised me. She opened the closet door and pointed down to a pink chamber pot with an armless kiddy seat of lavender painted wood sitting over it and a roll of toilet paper. "Since there are four women living here, bathroom time is limited. You will use this for your needs. The bathroom is reserved strictly for your bathing. You got a problem with that?" she stated. I was embarrassed about having to use a toddler's potty but shook my head "no" in response. "Good, now put your suitcase in the closet next to that box. The box contains your school uniforms and you can unpack everything later," she continued. From the bedroom she took me on a tour of the house. While I wasn't allowed to peek in, she pointed out the girl's rooms and the master bedroom. Of course she informed me that I was to never go into any of those rooms without permission. The house was a typical five bedroom two bath for the area. The tour finished in the kitchen where she had me put on a white cotton bib apron. I didn't mind wearing an apron but this one had deep white ruffle hemming with pink embroidered flowers scattered across the bib. The skirting was so full that it almost looked like a dress on me. "Mrs. Brown, er, do you have something a little less feminine than this?" I asked. "You starting to question me already, boy! Just put it on and help me get dinner started. The girls will be home soon and we need to get dinner on the table. Since you like your apron so much, you can put this on as well. Now no more questions," she said gruffly handing me a frilled white cotton mop cap. I wanted to complain but from the look in her eyes, decided to do just what she said. I felt like a complete fool as I tucked my long hair into the cap. Soon I was peeling potatoes and carrots taking my frustrations out on the vegetables. "Boy! Slow down and peel them taters like you're suppose too. Stand up straight with your knees together while you do that. I'll have no slouching in my house," she barked at me. I probably should have thrown the bowl of potatoes and carrots to the floor and stomped right out of there after telling her what I thought of her apron and mop cap. Instead, I glared up into her eyes and saw that she was daring me to make the wrong move. The icy determined look in her eyes took the fight right out of me. I wasn't scared because she was significantly bigger than me; it was the malice in her eyes. Talk about feeling like the world's biggest dork. I had never been as embarrassed as when the girls came into the kitchen. I was standing beside the sink peeling those damn carrots when they came in. "Who's the new girl?" Arithia asked. "That's Cameron. Cameron this is Arithia, my daughter, Rosa and Amy Jo. You do what they tell you and we'll all get along. Girls, go get cleaned up then start your chores. You can chit chat with Cameron here after dinner. Now, get on your way," Mrs. Brown ordered. I must have looked like a beet red floundering guppy as the girls stared at me then left. "Mrs. Brown they thought I was a girl. May I please take this stuff off? I won't get anything on my clothing. I'll be careful," I said as soon as I could. "Girl, huh, yeah, ya look like one. Don't mind them. You just get on with what I told you," she replied giving me a glare. "Crap, I'm not going to like having to live here one fucking bit," I thought. She not only kept me busy in the kitchen but I had to set the table and actually serve the meals. No talking was allowed at the table and I was the last to sit down to eat. Finished my meal, meager though it was, I had to wash the dishes. Mrs. Brown handed me a pair of pink rubber gloves and told me to start washing. Amy Jo stood by my side drying the dishes as I finished with them. I thought all houses had automatic dish washers where you plop them in and turn a knob. Not in this house and, the chore, while not hard was tedious. While we washed, Rosa swept the kitchen. As we were alone in the room, I went through the twenty question routine. You know, like, "Where you from?" "How old are you?" "What grade you're in?" I blushed like crazy when I told them that I was a guy. I couldn't help it if Cameron was both a boy's and a girl's name. Mrs. Smith made me wear that infernal apron and cap, I tried to explain. All I got was a bunch of giggles and comments that maybe I should have been a girl since I looked so much like one. They got real serious when I asked them about Mrs. Brown and what to expect now that I was living there. "You better do whatever Mrs. Smith or Arithia tells you. You definitely don't want to get on their bad side. They can be real mean if they get mad," Rosa said. "Yeah, when I first got here I pissed Arithia off and she locked me in a closet for the entire weekend. I've never been so scared and miserable in my entire life trapped in there," Amy Jo said in a hushed tone. "Mrs. Brown has an old razor strop and she don't mind using it either. We've all felt its bite, even Arithia," Rosa added. "You do as you're told and try to stay out of the way as much as possible. Since you're the new girl, er, I mean guy, you gotta do what we tell you too," Amy Jo stated. "You can't be serious. They can't beat you or confine you like that. It's against the law. Isn't it?" I replied a bit shaken by the news. "As serious as heart attacks, see this." Rosa said as she flipped up her skirt. The back of her upper thighs were black and blue from an obvious beating. "I got that for sassing Arithia. I told her she was a sloppy pig when she made me clean her room. Believe me; you don't want to piss off either one of them. Mrs. Brown hits even harder than Arithia," Rosa stated. Finishing up the dishes, I was thinking that going back to juvie wasn't such a bad idea. Then I remembered what I had heard going on in the room next to mine. I shuttered at the thought and decided I didn't want to go back there. Mrs. Brown came back into the kitchen and inspected our work. Satisfied, she told me to go to my room and unpack my belongings. I happily removed the mop cap and apron then put them where they belonged and headed to my small room. Back in my room I decided to take a piss. I thought about going across the hall and using the bathroom but remembered the baby pottie. Reluctantly, I pulled the childish pot out of the closet and stood above it. Fishing out my dick, I was about to let go when the bedroom door opened. "What the fuck ya think ya doing?" I heard Arithia almost scream. "What ya think I'm doing. Now get out of my room and next time, don't forget to knock," I yelled back. The next thing I know I'm half laying half falling off my bed. The left side of my face was stinging fiercely. Arithia was standing over me, her broad black hand moving with blinding speed. The right side of my face erupted in pain and I fell to the floor. My eyes filled with tears and I held my burning cheeks with both hands. I looked up at her with fear in my eyes and tears flooding down my cheeks. "Listen up you piece of dog shit, you use that pot sitting down. I catch you standing I'll bust your balls and you never ever tell me what the fuck to do. I do the ordering around here. Now get your white ass on that pot and finish what ya gotta do. Nadine told me to help ya get ya school things put up. We got school tomorrow and ya need ta be ready," Arithia stated. Blushing for all I was worth, I struggled with my pants and underwear. It isn't easy to remove them without showing everything off, if you know what I mean. Fortunately, she turned her attention to the big box in my closet. Despite my fright, I managed to unload my bladder. I quickly stood, with my back to the closet, and started to pull my clothing back into place. "Just leave that shit around your fucking ankles bitch. That way I know ya ain't gonna do something stupid," she demanded. "But...but I'll be naked," I started to protest. "Do I have to hit you again? Now shuffle your ass over here and help me unload this here box," she ordered. As I shuffled over to where she had the box, she had a great big shit eating grin on her face. The gold capped front teeth sparkling in the light. "That ain't much of a thing ya got down there bitch. Looks more like a big clit than any dick I've ever seen. You sure you ain't got no pussy down there. Move dem hands out da way and let me have a good look. That is unless ya wants me ta move em for ya," she laughed. As I stood with my hands at my sides trembling in fear, she yelled out, "Girls get in here!" In just seconds the two girls were standing in my room. I don't believe that I could blush any redder than I was but a burning shame flared up and down my spine. "Tell me if'n dat don't look like a big clit. It be too small ta be a real dick don't it?" Arithia laughed while pointing at my exposed groin. The girl's laughter sounded a bit forced to me but they all agreed that it looked like a big clit. My face still stung from Arithia's slaps and I didn't want any more of that so I kept my head lowered as the tears fell in torrents. "I don't have a cl...clit! I don't have a pussy! I'm a man, damn it," I managed to stammer in protest. "Awe, da little crying sissy says she ain't got no pussy. Since we all agree dat it's just a big clit maybe we should make it look more like a pussy too. Rosie go get dat super glue ya use on ya nails. Amy ya help me hold dis fairy down on da bed," Arithia demanded. You try to struggle with your pants around your ankles against two very determined and bigger women. I tried but Amy had a strong hold on my wrists and Arithia manhandled me over to the bed. Once on the bed, Amy straddled my shoulders pinning me securely with her knees and her ass pressed tightly over my face. I could barely breathe much less scream. I felt Arithia force her body between my knees spreading them out painfully. Then her hands and fingers were groping me. I winched as I felt her push my testicles up into my body and bile filled my throat. I must have passed out for a moment or two because the next thing I remember was something cold on my groin and then pressure as Arithia pressed at the flesh. "Now dat is more better don't ya think girls?" Arithia said as she stood up. "OMG! Arithia how did you learn to do that? It looks just like...like the real thing. What happened to his dick?" Rosa said shocked. "Let me see, let me see," Amy demanded as she got off my shoulders. When she did that, I had a great view of her bright yellow pantied behind. I just laid there. Too shocked to move or cry out. I felt a slight numbness between my legs but nothing painful. I kind of knew that she hadn't cut anything off but listening to the girls cavort and giggle, I realized that she had done something drastic to my groin. I finally managed to sit up and look at what she had done. I almost fainted as I saw a very smooth groin with a pronounced slit where my dick and balls had been. I instinctively reached down and touched it. As my fingers passed over the mound, I could feel my dick buried under the folds of skin but no balls. I finally touched the head of my dick tucked tightly deep between my legs. With my bush of pubic hair it actually looked like a pussy. "Where were my testicles?" I thought. "Don't ya worry none. Ya dick and balls are still there, just covered up and tucked away nice and purty like. Now get ya ass up. We gotta get ya uniforms for school unpacked. Girls, go on an get back ta ya rooms. Ya got chores and need to get ready for school tomorrow," Arithia said. I was too shocked and bewildered to say or do anything. I just sat there crying like a damn fool. I was totally humiliated in both body and mind. I pulled at the sealed flesh but it only hurt. The tender skin was glued tight and it looked like it was going to stay that way for some time. I covered the offending site with my hands and continued crying. "Get your scrawny ass off dat bed and help me unload dis here box faggot," she screamed at me. I was in no shape to defy her. I got off the bed and stood over the box. It had the standard UPS shipping label indicating it was for Cameron Sawyer. I noticed that the return address was for the State Disbursing Center. I watched as Arithia opened the box using one of her bright red painted nails to break the seal. Inside, she removed three shoe boxes, four white flat boxes almost the same size as the shipping box and about three inches thick. She placed those off to the side then dug back into the box. This time she removed five plastic covered packages and handed them to me. I looked at the top package and read the black ink printed letters in a stupor. "Blouse, White, Short Sleeve, Cotton, Girl's Size Medium, Control Number 777884," it read. I was numb with shock. Arithia had just glued my cock and balls into a feminine look and now I was holding five white cotton girl's blouses in my trembling hands. I could only think, "What the fuck is going on! This just can't be happening to me." She quickly threw several more plastic wrapped packages on the bed giggling as she reached for the final package. It was about the same size as the box and four inches thick. Printed plainly on it were the words, "Jacket, Blazer type, Navy, Full-Sleeve, Girl's, Size M." "Well, just don't stand there. Open dem fuckers," Arithia laughed. I opened the first bag and shook out the white blouse. The sleeves were capped with a small fringe of lace, the collar was rounded and an endless stream of small pearl buttons ran down the front. All five blouses were exactly the same. "Ya gonna need to iron dem blouses to get dem creases out. You'll find an ironing board and iron in da hall closet. Go on! Get it! We ain't got all damn night," she ordered. I was standing in the hall closet pulling out the ironing board when I realized that I was naked from the waist down. "Shit!" I mumbled as a fresh set of tears began rolling down my cheeks. As I came back to my room struggling with the board and iron, I heard Arithia laughing her ass off. "Come on white boy, get ya pretty ass over here and I'll show ya how to get dem creases out of your pretty blouses," she said. I dropped the board and iron to the floor. I couldn't take any more. "Those can't be mine. There's been a mistake! I'm not some silly girl! This must me some kind of dirty trick. This is all your fault! Damn it! I want my real stuff. This is just some kind of sick joke of yours," I yelled. Before I knew it, I was on the floor with my right ear stinging like crazy. When I looked up there was Mrs. Brown standing over me. "Boy, you in a heap of trouble now. I don't allow no yelling in my house and I certainly ain't gonna let any body sass my daughter. Get ya sorry ass up off dat floor and apologize right this minute," she roared down at me. As I tried to stand, I felt a burning stinging pain in by butt followed by three more solid hits. Mrs. Smith swung the leather strop so hard it whooshed in the air before landing on my exposed rear end. I hurriedly got to my feet, my hands flung behind my back trying to protect my bare behind. With fear in my eyes I said over and over that I was sorry. I didn't know what I had to be sorry about but at the time I wasn't going to argue the point. I just wanted the pain to stop. "That's the clothing the State done sent you. Tomorrow is a school day and there ain't no time to change things. You do as Arithia tells you and be quite about it or I'll be back and I ain't gonna be just giving you love taps. Understand? Now get them things put up and then get to bed," she ordered as she turned and left the room. During all that time Arithia just stood by the empty box with a sneering smirk on her face. When her mother left, she pointed to the wall socket. I got the message loud and clear. I was trembling in shock and fear as I placed the first blouse over the nose of the ironing board. It took me over thirty minutes to iron that first one but the other four didn't take as long. As I was finishing the last one, she handed me a pleated green and black tartan skirt. It wasn't nearly as creased as the blouses but getting the pleats straight was a real pain. There were two other similar skirts. By the time I finished the blouses and skirts, my arms were aching and felt like lead. "You'll get the hang of it in no time bitch. I'll see to it that you do all the ironing until you do anyway. Now hang them clothes in the closet and let's finish unpacking," she ordered. I was resigned to the fact that I was going to wear a dress and blouse but the underwear came as another surprise. One package contained four, "Bra, White, Cotton/Spandex, Size 34 A." Two other packages contained six each, "Panties, White, Nylon, Size 6." The remaining packages contained, "Support Garment, White, Cotton/Spandex, Size S," "Socks, White, Nylon, Knee High," "Camisole, White, Nylon, Size M," and the last one "Nightgown, White, Nylon, Size M." After everything was neatly stored in my dresser, Arithia handed me a pair of panties, white, nylon, size 6 and the nightgown to put on. Man I felt like such an idiot but at last I was left alone in my misery. Ooo I was drug out of a deep sleep by the alarm going off. I glanced at the clock as my hand came down on the off button. It was 5:00 in the fucking morning. I had never gotten up that early and pulled the covers back over my head. I know I didn't set it, so I figured no one in their right mind would get up that early. A few more Z's wouldn't hurt. That didn't last as my door banged open. "Get you sorry ass out of that bed! You have fifteen minutes before it's your time in the bath," Mrs. Brown's voice rang out. When I looked back on it, getting up at five a.m. wasn't all that early. Figure four teenagers each with twenty minutes in the only bathroom; well that's over an hour. Then time to dress, eat breakfast and be off to school for seven-thirty you're cutting it close. Hearing Mrs. Brown's voice brought back all the indignities that I had suffered through. Having to wear a girl's night gown, I couldn't bring myself to even think "nightie," and panties still brought a blush to my cheeks. Reaching down to scratch myself, like I usually did, brought more shame. I was still as flat as a girl down there. I had to pee like a racehorse and pulled the potty chair out from inside the closet. Pulling up the nightgown and with the, I still couldn't call them "my," panties around my ankles, sat to do my business. It was then that I noticed the delicate floral embroidery on the square cut neckline and the scalloped lace hemline. I blushed even more with embarrassment. Just as I was finishing up, Amy poked her head in my door and said, "Your turn. You have twenty minutes. Oh, by the way, Arithia said to make sure you shave your legs and underarms. She left a razor and shave gel on the side of the tub. Be real careful when you use it, I'm sure she already has and a dull blade cuts the skin a lot easier." "Whaa...what?" I stammered in shock but she was already gone. "Guys don't shave their legs or pits," I thought as I grabbed the pot and headed to the bathroom. When I got into the bathroom, I emptied and cleaned out the damn pot. I noticed that some idiot had left the tub full of what appeared to be used water. There were only a few suds on the surface and the water was murky. As I started to pull the plug to drain it, Arithia stuck her head through the door. "Look bitch, we ain't got da time to refill the tub. You just jump in there and do what Amy done told ya ta do. Ya just lucky it's gonna take more time ta get ya dressed sos ya get ta go second today. If'n I find one hair on dem legs or under ya arms, you gonna bees one sorry muther fucker," she stated. "You've got to be kidding me! Take a fucking bath in dirty water and shave my body? She's got to be kidding? Crap! What did I ever do to deserve this?" I thought. Needless to say, I did what she told me all the while cussing under my breath. The water was tepid and the razor was dulled but I was scared of the consequences. I got out of the tub smelling slightly of flowers and only very minor nicks. I brushed my teeth using a brush from its package but the only deodorant was some girly roll on. I wrapped a towel around my waist, picked up the clothing in one hand and the pot in the other headed back to my room. Arithia was waiting for me already dressed for school. Kind of picture a black pumpkin wearing a Catholic school girl's uniform, a very large pumpkin. Definitely not the picture most of us conjure in our imaginations, is it? That's what I thought at the time. "Bitch, what da fuck? Tuck dat towel up over ya titties. Doan ya know any fucking better? Put dat shit down and get ya ass over here afore I decide to beat ya ass," she greeted me. I put the pot under the chair and the clothing on the bed then quickly adjusted the towel to cover my chest. I was so intimidated by her that my hands were trembling. I quickly took a seat on the stool in front of the vanity that she was pointing to. She grabbed my chin and tilted it up so we were looking eye to eye. "Listen up bitch! I'm gonna only help ya once den ya gonna hafta do it yaself from now on. Ya make damn sure ya does it like I show ya or I'll beat it inta ya tills ya do," she spat. With that she took a comb and parted my long hair down the middle creating bangs with a part across my forehead. Using a brush she stroked one side until she had a handful then slid a rubber band around the base creating a pony tail. She did the same to the other side of my head then tied navy blue satin ribbons with big floppy bows to the base. Using a pair of scissors, she trimmed the hair hanging over my face just above my eyebrows creating bangs. Next, she tilted my head up and with a pair of tweezers began painfully plucking out hairs from my brows. That particular process took some time before she seemed pleased with the results. She picked up a stubby red pencil with a black lead and went over my brows with it. Smiling, she put the pencil down and grabbed a tube of black mascara. She told me what it was then ran it through my lashes several times. Finally, she handed me a golden tube that I recognized as lip gloss in a pale pink shade telling me to put it on. Grabbing my chin, she pointed my face directly into the mirror and said, "Now dats how ya gonna look from now on. Understand bitch?" she said with a smirk. I stared unbelieving into the mirror. Reflected back at me was the face of a young girl. The brows were thin and arched. The lashes deep black with a slight curl. The lips looked full and luscious. It was a girl but it was me. "I said do ya understand!" she said loudly. "Ye...yeah, I...I understand," I stammered. "Good, now I see sumpton else I's needs ta do," she said. With that, she picked up the tweezers again and shoved the towel down a bit. Then she quickly plucked the few dark hairs I had just begun to sprout on my chest. I can't even begin to explain the humiliation I was feeling at that moment but there was noting I could do about it. Leaving me sitting on the stool, she went over to the dresser, removed some clothing and tossed it to me. "Ya put dat on while I gets ya uniform," she ordered. Panties, white, nylon, size 6, I remembered from the packaging. Reluctantly, I slid them up my legs and seeing how my groin looked just like those in lingerie ads almost made me cry. Bra, white, nylon/spandex, size 34 A, as I recalled was next. I didn't have the faintest idea of how to put it on. Obviously the straps went over the shoulder and the three hook and eye grommets probably should go in the back but I had no idea how to hook everything together. Fortunately or unfortunately depending upon how you look at it, Arithia came back carrying my uniform. She quickly showed me how to adjust the bra straps by slipping the thin satin strap through that impossibly small metal slide. Then she had me take the ends of the bra between thumb and forefinger and placed my hands behind my back so I could connect them. That took a number of tries before I got all three hooks aligned with the proper eyes. "Hurry up and get ya girdle, slip and socks on. We're running late as it is," she said handing me the girdle. "So this is a support garment, white, cotton/spandex, size s," I thought as I held it out to examine. It was indeed white and had some stretch to the material. It reminded me of a pair of bike shorts but much more feminine. There was a bright shiny white diamond panel in the front with an embroidered satin floral design and lots of zig-zag stitching. The rest of the garment was in a dull white finish with the exception of a one inch band of elasticized floral lace hemming the leg cuffs. There were also some weird bumps just above the leg hem. I found out later that they were called garter tabs. I felt like a complete fool as I wiggled my ass and hopped around when I pulled the girdle into place. It fit but I felt my stomach pulled in uncomfortably tight. There was a tight snug pull at my crotch but it didn't bother me as much as my restricted waist. The slip was no problem; it was plain with just some scalloping along the hem line. The socks had a surprising snugness and semi-transparency that I was not familiar with and just reached my knees. As I pulled them up my legs, the girdle tugged noticeably at my waist and was most uncomfortable. As I smoothed the last sock into place, Arithia dropped a pair of navy blue shoes on the floor. They had a square toe, large gold buckle at the instep and a two inch block heel. According to the box top they were, "Shoes, Girl's, Leather, Navy, Size 8 M." The blouse and skirt finished my dressing. She had to show me how to reach up under the skirt and pull down on the blouse's hem to get a tight smooth fit. All that did was make my new breasts stand out. I now had two distinct mounds where there had been nothing. "Let's go bitch. We're late for breakfast," she said. As I followed her into the kitchen, I felt very exposed. I was use to wearing pants all the time and the feel of skirt and slip sliding across my thighs was unsettling. There was an updraft between my legs that constantly reminded me of just how exposed my crotch was. I didn't like the feeling one bit. When I got to the kitchen, the other girls oohed and aahed and said how cute I was. "If you're not a girl, you should have definitely been one," Rosa said as I carefully sat down. Immediately, Rosa piped up, "Get up before you wrinkle that skirt. Don't you know nothing? Sweep your hands behind your butt to smooth out the skirt then sit. Make sure you keep you knees together. We don't particularly care to see your snatch. We saw enough of it last night, hahahaa." Everyone at the table had a good laugh at my expense. Blushing beet red, I did as instructed. Mrs. Brown and Arithia both had a full breakfast of bacon, eggs and biscuits. The rest of us had to be satisfied with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of milk. I felt like I could eat a horse but thanks to that damn girdle cutting me in half, I could barely finish what I had. With breakfast done, I had to help the other girls clean up. As I was putting the last of the dishes into the cabinet, Mrs. Brown handed me a pink with white piping book bag. "Alright, you girls go get your bags and get down to the car. I'm taking all of you to school today. I have to get Cameron registered. Now get a move on. I don't want to be late," she said. Ooo I sat in the back scrunched up between Amy and Rosa. With my feet resting on the hump, my knees where forced up nearly to my waist. I did keep them together but my skirt, already way too short for my comfort, fell around my waist. To say that my position was uncomfortable would be an understatement. It was positively painful and humiliating. The girdle cut deeply into my stomach and bladder. At every bump and turn, the urge to pee was magnified a hundred fold. With the skirt and slip folded down, my legs were completely exposed. My relief when she finally parked the car in the school lot was only momentary. Getting out of the car, I could actually feel every piece of clothing and I realized just how I was dressed. My embarrassment hit me almost as if it were a physical blow. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. I was frozen in pure unadulterated fear. "Come on. I don't like being late," Mrs. Brown said as her hand slapped my face. It wasn't a hard slap but enough to get my attention. "Plea....please Mrs. Brown. I....I can...can't go in there dressed like this. I...I won't last ten minutes if...if I go in there dressed like this," I stammered. "Well child, it's all you have so make the best of it. Tell you what, if you let me do all the talking, I can promise you that everything will turn out just fine and dandy. You just do as you are told and don't make a scene. Mrs. Brown will take care of you. Now you act like everything is normal and we won't have any problems," she said. What else could I do dressed like all the other girls going into the school I reluctantly nodded my head and followed at her side until we reached the principal's office. I sat in the reception area while she went in to meet with the principal. The secretary behind the desk gave me a reassuring smile but I did my best to keep my head down and knees pressed tightly together. It felt like hours before I was called into the office but probably wasn't more than thirty minutes. I was as nervous as a cat in a dog pen when I was told to take a seat next to Mrs. Brown. I remembered just in time to sweep my dress under me as I sat. My cheeks must have been glowing and I felt a trickle of sweat go down beside my ear. I wanted to keep my head down but Mrs. Brown elbowed me in the ribs and told me to sit up and listen. The woman sitting across the desk looked to be about fifty or so years old. Her grey hair was styled in a short page boy and she wore a lot of makeup. Her nose was large and slightly turned up while her lips were thin. There was neither smile nor frown in her expression. "Cameron, I am Miss Philips the principal here at MLK. I run a strict school and I don't allow any mischief or wild behavior. Your foster parent, Mrs. Brown, has given me permission to use corporal punishment if I deem it necessary. I truly hope that we don't have to meet under those circumstances in the future. When you leave here, you will go to the library and obtain your books and school rule book. I recommend that you read it thoroughly. Now that we have gotten over the formalities, I have your class schedule ready. The requested classes fortunately were still available when I received it from the State Welfare Department. Take a look at it and I will answer any questions you may have," she said. She was an intimidating woman and I wasn't about to ask any questions. I just wanted to get all this over with. I stood and took the piece of paper from her desk. Sitting back down, I began reading it. Home Room, English, History, Biology, Lunch. "Not so bad of a start," I thought. "Secretarial Studies, Home Economics, MWF, Choir, Dance TTh. "What the fuck!" I thought as I finished reading my schedule. Miss Philips must have seen the expression on my face. "Is there a problem Cameron? According to the State, that is exactly what they said you wanted. Based upon your previous school records and test scores, you should have no problems with any of them except maybe your biology class," she said. "Based on my previous school records and test scores? Hell, I was almost an A student and all my courses were college orientated. I was supposed to be studying to get into a major college. Not be some stupid secretary or such," I fumed to myself. I opened my mouth to tell her exactly what I thought of her class schedule but once again felt the sharp elbow stab into my ribs. "Cameron's so delighted that she got all her classes, she can't say a word. Can you dear?" Mrs. Brown said while turning to look me in the eyes. I could tell that she was just daring me to say anything. "I'm sure my little Cameron here will be one of your best students. If not, then I whole heartily approve of your incentive plan. I have found that a little discipline goes a long way in keeping a child on the proper path. We've taken up enough of your time. If you could just get someone to show us the way to the library, I would be obliged," she continued. Miss Philips pressed a key on her intercom and told her secretary to send in the student assistant. As she did that, I felt tears beginning to fill my eyes. I was mortified by what had just happened. "What the fuck is going on? First I got the wrong school uniforms from the State Welfare Office; second, my class schedule is totally fucked because of what I supposedly requested and third, everyone seems to think that I am a girl. Damn! All this shit started when the state took over my care. Talk about government fuck ups! I've got to do something to stop this before it gets any worse. I've got to get hold of that Mrs. Sinclair and get her to straighten this mess out," I thought as I followed them out of the Principal's office. In the library we were met by a nice little old lady, Miss Henderson. She was maybe five five at best, grey hair put up in a pert bun wearing a starched white cotton blouse and kaki skirt. She was efficient and quickly had all my books and supplies piled on a desk. She then had me stand in front of a pale blue background and took my picture. Miss Henderson told Mrs. Brown that the total fees were $125.00. A short while after the check was written, she handed me my brand spanking new right off the press Student ID. It was still warm from the laminating press. I know I must have looked like an idiot. As I looked at my ID, my jaw was hanging down and my eyes opened wide. "Cameron Eloise Sawyer, Age 15, Sex F, MLK Sophomore Student, ID # 07869," I read. "Where the fuck did 'Eloise' come from? I don't have a middle name. 15! I'm almost 18. Female, I'm not a girl. Sophomore! Crap! I should be a Senior this year. What have they done to me? None of this is me! OMG the picture! I look like a girl," I thought as I read and re-read the ID card. As I started to object to what I was seeing, Mrs. Brown poked me in the ribs and whispered, "Don't say shit. We'll get this all straightened out when we get home. That is unless you want to make a scene here and let everyone know you're a boy in a dress. Now thank the lady and put your stuff in your book bag." I quickly shut my mouth and began shoving books, pencils and notebooks into my pink bag. As I was putting books into the bag, I found a pink leatherette girl's wallet inside. Mrs. Brown told me to put my student ID into it. All I wanted to do was get this over with. The last thing in the world I wanted was for everybody to find out I was wearing a dress or worse, girly underwear. My life at MLK would be a living hell if that ever got out. I was really looking forward to going back to the house and getting this mess straightened up. I was severely disappointed because instead of going home, the student assistant insisted on escorting me to my second period class. English, History and Biology were easy enough. I already had those from when I was really a sophomore. What made them difficult was having to stand in front of each class and tell them my name and where I was from, you know, all that newbie stuff you have to go through at a new school. I must have been as red as a beet as I could actually feel my cheeks burning the whole time that I stood in front of the class. At lunch I tried to find as far out of the way table that I could but Arithia, Amy and Rosa saw me first. I was stuck. I tried to tell them that I wanted to be alone but they wouldn't let me. "Look bitch, you sit with us or I'll tell everybody here dat you're a guy and a fag," Arithia hissed at me. I had no choice. I followed meekly behind them to a table. Lunch was miserable and I flushed with embarrassment when they demanded to see my class schedule and new ID card. They seemed to find it very amusing. Amy was surprised to discover that we would have the same last class of the day. "Good, you can make sure the little shit finds her way home after school then," Arithia told her. After lunch the girls forced me to go to the lady's room with them. I needed to pee but use the girl's restroom. I knew that had to be illegal but had no choice. I can't begin to tell you how relieved I was when I saw that there were individual stalls with doors. If anyone saw me like I was, I would die of shame. I pulled down the, I still couldn't bring myself to call them my, panties and squatted just like a girl. It was then that I remembered what Arithia had done to me down there. With all the chaos surrounding the events at school, I had completely forgotten about it. I blushed again for the millionth time that day as I pulled a wad of tissue off the roll and blotted myself. Secretarial studies were an absolute bore. I already knew how to type and use the various word and math programs. Filing systems was new but any idiot could do that. Dictation surprised me. I didn't think anyone took dictation any more but was informed many doctors and lawyers still dictated. Someone had to transcribe them, so it was on the lesson plan. Home Economics, now that was a joke in my opinion. At first I thought it was nothing more than learning how to keep house. It turned out to be more complicated. Nutrition and children's health care were primary study courses. Needless to say, I was going to hate this class. It was boring and who gives a rat's ass about that shit anyway. I was a week behind all the other kids, so I had a ton of homework. Fortunately, my primary classes were a no brainer but Secretarial Studies and Home Eco required my concentration. I wasn't intending to do any of it but as soon as we entered the house, Mrs. Brown sent us all to our rooms to study. When I broached the subject of getting my identity mix-up and my class assignments straightened out, she bluntly told me to do what I was told or face the strop. Last nights experience with the strop was something I really didn't want to repeat. Mumbling cuss words under my breath, I did as instructed. I didn't know there was a numerical code filing system. I thought you just filed stuff alphabetically. Oh how I hate this stuff. About two hours later Mrs. Brown came into my room and told me to help her get supper ready. In the kitchen, I had to put on the apron and mop cap. As I was chopping celery I asked her when I would be able to talk to Mrs. Sinclair. I really wanted to get the mess I was in straightened up as soon as possible. "I already spoke to her. She says she'll look into it. When you get that done start slicing the tomatoes," she told me. "Wha...what do you mean 'she'll look into it?'" I asked not believing what I just heard. "Like I done said, she'll look into it. Till then, you just do what you're told or else. Now get back to work," she replied gruffly. As I was getting ready to leave the kitchen for dinner, Mrs. Brown stopped me. "These come for you in the mail today. Says I should give you two pills twice a day. So, here's your pills and you will swallow them down. I don't want no sickness in my house," she stated. She removed a large purple pill out of one plastic bottle and a small white one from a smaller bottle. "What, I'm not sick. What are they?" I asked. "Doan know, doan care but they got your name on them and they were sent by the welfare office. Now swallow them down," she replied. When I asked to see the bottles, she held the larger one up but I could only see my name, Cameron E. Sawyer on the label. Her thumb covered up the rest. Reluctantly I swallowed them down with a glass of water. Ooo I didn't feel any better Tuesday morning as I followed the girls to the school bus. As we stood waiting for it, Amy reminded me to make sure I used the girl's bathroom or else. She also reminded me that we had Dance on Tuesdays and Thursdays and to be sure to keep close to her in the dressing room. Dance, dressing room, oh shit. I had forgotten that I had choir and dance instead of Secretarial Studies and Home Ec those days. It was embarrassing and bad enough to be in classes full of girls but in their dressing rooms too. I was a nervous wreck just having to wear that stupid girl's school uniform. Having to undress at the same time they were changing would be mortifying. I some how managed to make it through my regular classes without any significant problems. That is, if you don't have your name shortened to "Camie" by the girls sitting next to you in class. It seemed like every girl sitting next to me just had to talk to me between the time you got to class and the time class started. It started in my second period, "Hi there. I'm Beverly but everyone just calls me Bev. You're Camie right? Oh, yeah, Cameron but Camie sounds better. You don't mind if we call you Camie, do you? This here is Tonisha but everyone calls her Toni. Do you have a boyfriend? Where do you live?" Needless to say, Toni was in my next class and so I was now officially Camie to everyone. At choir, after hearing me sing a few notes, I was taken aside by the Choir Director for some private tutoring. My voice was just beginning to break into a deeper register and he wanted to help me. He gave be a spray bottle of whatever. I couldn't pronounce the name in any case. He coached me on how to keep my voice at the higher range. He gave me a set of scales to sing for practice after I liberally spayed the slightly sweet and sour tasting liquid into my mouth. Then he told me to use the spray at least four times a day. "There you are Camie. Come on, I'll take you to our dance class. It's in a room off the side of the gym," Amy said catching me leaving Choir. "It's Cameron," I retorted. "The girls decided at lunch that Camie was just too cute. Anyway, Arithia said to call you that from now on. Besides, you look just like a little Camie," she replied smugly. "My name wasn't all that masculine but it sure as hell beat Camie," I thought as we headed to the gym. As we entered the dressing room, I was beginning to sweat bullets. I just knew that they were going to find out that I was a guy. Amy introduced me to the teacher, Miss. Davis, who was dressed in black leotards and white tights. She took an appraising look at me which scared the heck out of me. She went over to a shelf and pulled down two plastic covered bundles and, turning to look over her shoulder asked me my shoe size. When she came back she handed me a black leotard, white tights and a box containing a pair of black ballet slippers. "Those should fit but if they feel uncomfortable just bring them back and I'll get you something else. Oh, you will need to wear a support garment during class. We want a nice smooth front," she said. As we walked back to the lockers, I asked Amy, "I need to get a jock strap." She laughed shrilly then informed me that the teacher was referring to a panty girdle. Her locker was almost at the end of an isle and the one next to it was vacant. Amy told me to go ahead and change while she blocked the view of the other girls. "With what Arithia done to you that really isn't necessary," she added giggling loudly. I tore the plastic cover off the tights, smoothed them up my legs. It was a struggle to slip into the black leotard and its tight figure hugging embrace. Amy began stripping right there beside me. She was wearing a bright red satin bra and girdle. My staring at her didn't phase her one bit. Putting on the tights and leotard wasn't much of a problem once you got everything adjusted. The shoes, on the other hand, blew my mind. I had absolutely no idea how to tie the satin ribbon laces. Amy had me put my foot up on the bench we were sitting on. Then she slowly wove the ribbon ties up my ankle and tied it off in a bow. She carefully tucked the bow and remaining streamers back under the ribbon. "Make sure you tuck the bow and streamers like this. If they come undone, they could trip you up. Believe me, the fall can really hurt," she instructed. By the time class was over there wasn't a part of my body including my hair that didn't hurt. Some of the stretching exercises really tore at the muscles in my inner thighs and my calves were in burning pain. I was so glad when that class was over. Ooo By the end of the week I had loosened up some. By that, I mean, I was less nervous around the other kids. I even made a couple of friends, Bev and Toni. Don't get me wrong, I was still the shy girl and uncomfortable talking to anyone. I didn't say all that much, especially when the girls talked about boys. Bev and Toni were nice enough not to push and we got along fine. Amy and Rosa were okay, sort of, but they liked to boss me around. Arithia on the other hand was a total bitch to all of us. I quickly found out that we had to do all the chores around the house while she did whatever she wanted. She was always the first in the bathroom and the first in anything else. For example, Mrs. Brown took us to the mall on Wednesday supposedly to buy me some clothing for everyday wear. We were all in our school uniforms as we entered the juniors section. Arithia saw a dress she wanted to try on right off the bat. So we had to wait while she tried it on then several others. Finally, she decided on two then had to wait until she found just the perfect pair of shoes to go with them. Once she had finished shopping, she handed all her bags to Rosa and left for the arcade. Then Rosa and Amy found something they wanted to try on and I was stuck with the bags. By the time everyone had found something, including Mrs. Brown, I was like a clothes rack. I was stuck holding all the bags and didn't have a single one that was mine. Arithia came back just as her mother was paying for a new purse. "Ya'll ready yet?" she asked. "Sure darling, we were just about to go look for you. Come on children, we have another stop to make," Mrs. Brown replied. As we left the mall, I was a bit curious as I still didn't have any clothing of my own. I really needed some new boy's clothes. I was glad to drop all those bags and boxes in the trunk though. From the mall Mrs. Brown drove to a large thrift store. Once inside, she told the girls to start looking for some everyday clothing for me while taking my hand, pulled me toward the intimate's section. "What's going on?" I forced myself to ask. "You need some clothes other than your uniforms and Mrs. Sinclair said to get you some. We don't have the time for you to look at everything so I'm going to get your under things while the girls get what else you need," she replied tartly. "Didn't she say anything about getting me out of this mess? Everybody thinks I'm a stupid girl! I'm not a girl and...and my name isn't Camie, its Cameron. I...I do...don't need anything but some jeans and stuff," I said as bravely as I could. "Listen up Camie! You want to show up to classes dressed like a boy? I can arrange that. What ya think them boys will do to you? What will the kids in your classes gonna do? What if they pants you and see what my Arithia done did to you down there? Oh, yes, I know all about that. I thought it was real funny but it'll sure keep you from molesting the other girls so I don't mind. Now you do what you is told and don't give me any sass or you'll feel my strop," she hissed. My mind was in turmoil as her words hit home. If my true sex were discovered I really would be dead. I felt my face flush and tears filling my eyes as I realized that I was truly fucked. Then I had a thought, "What if Mrs. Sinclair could get me into another foster home in another school?" As we arrived at the intimates section, I asked her about that. "Forget it! You're my responsibility and I'll do what I have to. Mrs. Sinclair has no other place to send you. She told me that the State has you as a fifteen year old girl in its computer system and once in the system, it ain't easy to change. So until she gets all that straightened out, you do what I say girl. Another word from you and its ten of my best with the strop," she said. Her eyes were just asking for me to give her any excuse to follow up on her threat. I brushed the tears out of my eyes as she pulled something off the table in front of us. She held it in front of me and mumbled, "Looks about the right size." It was a deep purple color with a diamond front panel stitched in silver floral patterns. As I glanced down at it, it seemed to be too small. She handed it to me and told me to go ahead and try it on. "Wha...what? Out here?" I said shocked. "Course, you don't need to strip. Just pull them up and let me see how it fits. They's just us girls here anyway," she said. Reluctantly I took the garment from her hands and examined it. The material was lustrous and had some stretch to it. It looked slightly used and there was a dark stain in the nylon crotch. I could feel my skin crawl as I slowly stepped into it. It was a very tight fit and I had to wiggle and squirm to get it on. As I stood blushing with my skirt held up so she could get a good look at it, she reached out and pulled the price tag off. "Okay, just keep it on for now. We still have to get you some more everyday things," she said. I was now wearing two girdles and I felt like my body was being cut in half. I wanted to complain but like I said, I didn't want to feel that strop on my backside anytime soon. She picked out two more just like it except in red and beige colors. She moved to the next table and selected a dozen pair of panties, size six. They were all in very vivid colors with lace trim and bows. They were thin nylon in bright red, violet, sunset, magenta, malachite, ebony, azure, cranberry, Persian blue, amethyst, wintermint green and hot pink colors. All of them were in good shape but you could tell that they had been worn just by looking at the gusset. I cringed as each pair was placed in my hands. As we were leaving the department, we passed a table filled with nightgowns and pajamas. She stopped, glanced over the items and pulled a sheer black baby doll with lots of lace and ribbon detailing. Holding it up to me she said, "You need another nightgown. This'll do," "Er...Mrs. Brown please, could I have a pair of those cotton pajamas instead? You can see right through that thing," I hesitatingly asked. She glared as she handed them to me. I knew better than to say anything more. I could feel the tears beginning once again. I sniffled and with my head down followed her to the juniors section. There we met up with the others and it seemed that they had been busy. Each girl held an arm load of clothing and smiling from ear to ear. It seemed to me that they could only find micro minis or long pencil skirts with the most feminine of blouses. Most of the blouses were almost transparent and frilled with lace and ruffles. There were several dresses but they were mostly baby doll or bubble styled with low cut necklines. When I asked were the jeans and pants were, they responded that there weren't any in my size to be found. To my surprise, Mrs. Brown came to my rescue. "You girls know that winter is coming. She can't just go around in mini skirts then," she said. "Momma we got dat covered. See, here, I done got her all these pretty leggings, tights and dis here coat," Arithia said holding out the ugliest coat I had ever seen. It had a large yellowish-white faux fur collar and the jacket was a horrible orangish-yellow leopard print material. The long sleeves ended in the same yellowish-white fur as the collar. It looked like it might have fleas. "Alright then, let's get her some shoes and get on home. We still got dinner to fix," Mrs. Brown stated. Shoes, ha, more like torture devices to my way of thinking. Each one had nothing less than a three and one half inch spiked heel and the knee high black leather boots had a five inch stiletto heel. All in all, I wound up with six pair of shoes mostly pointed toe pumps in black, white, grey and navy. The sandals were silver with a platform sole and four inch spiked heel. "Well at least I have a few pair of jeans in my suitcase. Damn! I can't believe that I forgot all about that. I haven't even unpacked it. Can't wait to get back into my boxers and jeans," I thought. I was actually happy as we left the thrift store even if I had to carry all the bags. My happiness didn't last long. When I got back to my room after delivering a ton of bags containing my "new" clothing, the fucking suitcase was nowhere to be found. I almost tore the closet apart looking for it but it was gone. I even checked under the bed, nothing, nada no sign of it anywhere. When Mrs. Brown came in to check on me, I asked her if someone had put it somewhere. "It ain't my responsibility to keep track of any of your shit. Now stop fooling round and put your new stuff away. I want you in the kitchen in twenty minutes," she replied. "Bu...but that suitcase had all my stuff in it. My birth certificate, report card, all the insurance and settlement stuff from my parents. It was in there. We have to find it," I said. "Like I said, it's none of my business what you do with your stuff. You probably left it somewhere else. Now get your ass moving and change out of that uniform. I need you in the kitchen," she tartly replied. "Crap! Now I'm really stuck here. I can't go anywhere without wearing fucking girl's clothing. I hate this shit," I said when she left. I didn't realize it at the time but the loss of my birth certificate and other documents was a major catastrophe. That evening as I was cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner, I noticed Mrs. Brown putting receipts into an envelop. Later, when I emptied the trash basket, I saw all the receipts from the thrift store. The envelop sitting on the counter was addressed to Mrs. Sinclair at the welfare office. "That's strange," I remember thinking at the time. Like I said, I made it through that first week. In one week I had lost my identity, my sex, my clothing and my life. The girls were constantly on my ass if I didn't sit right, walk right, talk or act right. By right I mean like a girl. Arithia kept her promise and I was responsible for doing all the ironing as well as other chores. I don't know how I managed to cope with all the upheaval in my life but I did. The idea that I only had to put up with this crap until I turned eighteen next year was the thing that kept me going. Boy was I na?ve back then. I failed to understand that I was now only fifteen and a girl by the name of Cameron Eloise Sawyer according to all the state records. Ooo Over the next two months everything settled into a routine. I had a morning and evening toilet regimen that Arithia and Rosa set for me. I was the last to use the bathroom, which meant barely warm dirty water for a bath. I had to shave my legs and underarms at least once a week and apply moisturizer every day. I had to pu