How Not To Babysit part 11
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How Not To Babysit - Part 8 free porn video
PART EIGHT: DETAINED
I almost immediately run into Mr. Hennell, the Vice-Prinicipal and head
bastard in charge of detentions. I've crossed his path a few times before
but suddenly, I have no idea what I'm going to tell him. The plan is that
I'm pranking him. This is a joke. He gets upset an the rumour goes around
the school that I dressed up like a girl to piss him off. I think about
it. What kind of dumb plan is this? Oh well, I'm in. I should play it up.
Flash him my underwear and run off. My feet are frozen. My pseudo-
disrespect for authority fades and I look down at my shoes.
"Jason!" Mr. Hennell says. "What are you doing?" he asks rhetorically. "I
heard that you were in here dressed as a girl but I didn't think it was
true."
"Uh. Hi, Mr. Hennell," I mutter as I look at my patent leather covered
feet and my exposed knees.
Where the hell is the joke? I need some bravado. I need to piss him off
and make a big stupid show out of this! I need everyone to see him
chasing me as I taunt him. This isn't the plan! Why am I like this?
He grabs my chin lightly and raises my face to look me in the eye.
"Mr. Feller. You are not properly dressed for school. I don't know what
you're up to but this is unacceptable," he berates me. "Change your
clothes. Put on your uniform."
"This is a uniform," I say meekly.
It was supposed to be a defiant "up-yours" kind of thing but it didn't
come out that way. I go to lift the skirt and moon him. That's the plan!
But I can't. I find myself playing with the hem of the skirt. My cheeks
go red again. What's wrong with me? Stick it to the man, already.
"That!" he gestures is the girl's uniform. "You know the dress code. Boy
must wear the boy's uniform: grey slacks, white dress shirt - long or
short sleeved, school tie. The shoes must be black leather and the socks
must by navy or grey. Those aren't boys shoes or socks but there's
nothing in the rules against them." He pauses to look over my uniform.
"But even girls are not permitted to show their bras through their
shirts." He sighs. "You're breaking dress-code for boys and for girls."
He turns quickly and strides towards the office.
"Come with me!" he orders. "I can't have you running around the school
like that."
This is my chance. I'll just run the other way and tell him off. Sure
I'll get detention out of it. I may even get sent home. I take a step
towards the the gym instead of following him.
"Mr. Feller!" he yells at me.
I freeze.
"Follow me, I said!" he restates.
For unfathomable reasons, I turn and fall in line behind him. My head
hanging low and shame oozing from me. This isn't the joke. Why can't I do
this? I need to run. We pass many students in the hall. I hear snickers
and can feel the stares and fingers pointing at me. I am not getting
notorious the right way. This is not a ballsy prank to piss of the VP.
I'm just a sissy who got caught in the wrong uniform. I failed to reclaim
my rep. I knew this wouldn't work but goddamit why didn't I try anything
to be a bit of a rebel at least? I'm dead. My school life is over. I
should transfer. I should move to Canada. We arrive at the office. Ms.
Annerson, the receptionist, looks at me and laughs loudly. I die a little
more. We walk past her and into Hennell's office. He leaves his door
open.
"Mister Feller," he emphasizes, "wearing the girl's uniform is the same
as being out of uniform. Do you have anything to say?"
Fuck yeah, I have things to say! Like "Suck it, old man!" or "What's the
matter? You don't like it?" or maybe just a flip of the bird and a dash
for the door. None of these is my response. Instead, I timidly stare at
my shoes... again.
"You are not in class," he continues, "this is also unacceptable."
"Sorry sir," I mutter.
Did I just apologize to the fucker? Where's my badassness? I *need* to be
the rebel. Why can't I be the hellion that Dev told me to be?
"Sorry?" he asks perplexed. "Why are you dressed this way? You didn't
dress yourself did you?"
I do take long to answer. What do I say? Do I rat out those bastards who
stripped me and left me nothing but this to wear? If I do, I have to
explain why they stripped me. Or do I? Doesn't matter. If I rat them out,
they'll all tell him I wore girlie bedwear under my clothes. This can
still be a big joke. Or maybe I can be the victim but I can't be a
willing partcipant. No, he can't know about the nightie.
"Yes," I say. "I dressed like this during lunch."
"Why?" he asks. "I saw you this morning and you were wearing the proper
attire then. Why dress as a girl part way through the school day?"
"It's a joke," I say.
"A joke?" he scoffs. "Of course it's a joke. Look at you! You look like a
boy's head on a girl's body. You aren't trying to look like a girl,
you're just dressed in girl's clothes."
He breathes loudly for a moment. I hear his clock tick. I hear Ms.
Annerson suddenly start typing something. She must be listening to every
word... and loving it.
"Do you like to wear girl's clothes?" he asks finally.
"No," I answer very softly. It was weak. Unconvincing, even to me. Do I
like this?
"Ok. Do you wear girl's clothes a lot?" he probes.
"No, not a lot," I answer. Not a lot? Why'd I say that. Never! I want to
scream that I never wear girl's clothes. It takes a lot of effort to just
mutter a few words.
"When did you start wearing girl's clothes?" he poses.
"I don't..." I start to answer but for some reason he deserves an
truthful answer. Can I tell him the truth? Should I? I don't want to but
he seems to demand it. I think he already knows all the truh anyway, he
just wants me to admit it. He's got me. I think about last night. Tears
well up and I start sobbing.
"You don't remember? You don't know?" he attempts to fill in the gap.
I'm too emotional to answer.
"Please compose yourself, Jason, and let me see your handbag," he orders.
I clutch the bag to my chest. No way! That's just one more piece of
humiliating evidence. No! My resistance is token at best. Through the
bawling and huffing, he easily removed the purse from my hands and opens
it up.
"Jason." He breathes out. "I heard a rumour that you wore a pink nightie
under your clothes this morning. Is this the nightie? Did you have it on
under your clothes?"
I just nod. My wits are gone. My body is betraying me. I am unable to
play it cool. I am a whimpering sissy. I cry more loudly. People in the
hall stop to look into the office. Hopefully they can't see much. I just
want to run away from everything.
"Very well. I think I understand," he soothes. "Ms. Annerson, are there
any uniform clothes in the Lost and Found boxes?" he calls to her "If so
bring them here."
He's giving me clothes! I will change. I'll just lie about everything to
everyone. Maybe I will survive. Maybe everyone who saw me didn't
recognize me. Maybe they will just forget the whole thing. Yes. Pants! My
tears dry up. Hennell hands me a tissue box and I clean myself up a bit.
Annerson pops into the room with a printer paper box.
"This is everything," she says as she places the box on his desk. As she
leaves, she squeezes my shoulder lightly and smiles.
I try to look into the box from my seat but I'm too low. Hennell digs
through.
"I will make an exception today," he says as he removes a sweater vest
from the box. "We can't have you walking about as you are, though," he
continues as he tosses me the vest. "This is ad hoc, I insist that you
provide a written note from your mother explaining your situation. After
that I will allow you to wear the girl's uniform indefinitely." He looks
up. "Now put that on to hide your bra."
He stood up. I was too shocked to respond. You're going to let me walk
around as a girl? You aren't pissed? You don't think this is a joke? YOU
THINK I WANT TO WEAR GIRL'S CLOTHES?!
"I don't want to hear from you again today. You've already caused a
ruckus and I'm letting you off easy in light of your situation," he
advises. "I will not be lax if you are brought to my office again today."
Somehow I nod. For some reason I nod.
"And please hurry up, um," he hesitates, "Miss Feller. You've missed a
bit of your fifth period class."
I walk out of his office, pulling the sweater over my blouse, in stunned
silence.
"Here's your pass. Get to class," Ms Annerson encourages as she hands me
a hall-pass stub. "I think you're pretty..." she adds.
PRETTY?! This is not cool.
She ushers me to the hall and points towards my class. Fuck that! I am
not going to class like this. My feet betray me and carry me that way
anyhow.
"Uh..." I finally push out a syllable when no one is within earshot.
Somehow, I glide down the stairs from the main office. I move past the
library. There are catcalls. I don't react. I'm past all that. The world
is here around me but I'm somewhere else. My body keeps moving.
"Hey pansy!" I hear from somewhere as I walk into the starwell.
There's another door here leading to the school yard. Caleb is holding
the door open and seems to be beckoning me. I think he's still angry but
I can't tell. His face is a mile away. So is his voice.
"I said: hey Pansy!" he yells at me.
I look up at him and clarity hits me. He's got fucking crazy eyes and his
fists are clenched tight to the door and the door frame. He must be
planning something unpleasant. I move quickly to the staircase. I hear
him give chase.
"Get back here, Faggot!" he calls after me. "I'm gonna fix your faggoty
ass."
This is not incentive to get me to stop. My pride may be gone but now my
physical well-being is on the line. He's going to rip my head off and
beat me with it.
I climb the stairs as fast as I can, all four flights but come up against
a closed door. I wrench the handle but it doesn't move. My thumb slams
awkwardly down on the catch and I pull again. The door moves. It's barely
open when Caleb's forearm comes down hard against the metal. The door
slams shut. He quickly shifts his weight and strikes me in the face with
a closed fist. I tumble down the stairs and land roughly on the landing
between flights. He's on me like a tiger.
My hands aren't doing what they're supposed to. I think I'm reaching up
but I can't tell. I'm trying to push him with my legs but I can't tell. I
think there's a crowd as I can hear voices. I think he's hitting me.
There's pain everywhere.
Finally he's off me. Do I hear Will? Maybe Dev? I roll onto my back and
try to lift myself. The world flows back into my senses.
"He's a pansy! He deserves it! Walking around in a dress!" Caleb hollers
but his voice is getting more and more distant.
Some hands are on me, helping me sit. My sides ache. My face throbs. I
have trouble lifting my arms.
"Jason?" a girl asks. "Are you okay?"
Of course I'm ok. Dumb question! I mutter something.
"Jason?" a guy... Dev says. "What happened?"
Finally, I am propped against a wall. Lisa was the girl. I can see her
clearly now. I like Lisa. The guys know it. Hell, I think she knows it.
She will prbably never like me that way. Not now.
"Are you okay?" she asks again.
I clear my throat. It hurt.
"I dont think so," I answer. "He jumped me."
Feeling returns to my legs and arms after a few minutes. I pull myself to
my feet and feel the skirt settle on my thighs.
"He hit you in the face," Lisa reminds me. "I think you have a bruise."
"Ey! Everyone! Go back to your class!" some male teacher says and the
staircase gets mostly cleared out. "Oo is urt? Get her to the nursing
station," the voice continues.
"It's Jason Feller," Lisa replies to the teacher.
The teacher pauses. I look over to see it's Monsieur Gatineau, the French
teacher.
"Jason? Hokay..." he says as he looks me over. "To the medicine station
with you both."
He turns to Gerry Desmond, the hall monitor who knows well enough to
linger a bit after the scene. Gerry is already filling out the hall pass
slips; one for me and one for Lisa.
"You will give them permission slip?" he asks Gerry.
Gerry simply nods as he finishes up the second slip. He tears the stubs
from the pad and hands them to us. He takes a moment to linger on my
attire, smiles, and heads back down the stairs to his class. Lisa and I
are left alone in the stairs.
Now that everything has cooled down, I find that I can move well enough.
I think I took a few punches to the sides and I can see small bruises all
over my arms where he was gripping them. Mostly I feel my face throb
right around my left eye.
"Can you walk?" Lisa asks with more than a little concern in her voice.
I push off the wall and take a tentative step. My legs work.
"Yes," I say. "It's my sides that hurt... and my face."
"Oh your poor face," she emotes.
She leads me back down the stairs and back towards the gym and the main
office. The nurse's station is right between them. The whole walk she is
cooing at me and saying things like "You poor thing" and "That horrible
misanthrope." Big word. I'm impressed. Maybe I should have had a few
conversations with her instead of just pining from a distance?
The nurse's station was empty so we just go in and ring the buzzer. There
are a few chairs here and a desk. The medical table is behind a locked
door, in a slightly larger room than this one. Usually the nurse is here
but, like a lot of medical professionals, she sometimes runs out for a
smoke break. We wait.
I'm so exhausted at this point that I prop my head onto her should and
rest my eyes. She smells fantastic. She saying something. I'm sure it's
all positive. Probably saying that it looks like I'll be ok in no time.
The nurse will take care of everything. I'm not entirely sure but I've
watched her from afar long enough to know that she's always the first to
comfort and console her friends and she's very good at making them feel
better. I just smile and nod off.
I come to with Nurse Maddie, tapping me lightly on the bicep.
"Jason?" she asks. "What are you doing dressed like that, Jason?" The
nurse has met almost everyone in the school. She's knows me well - this
must be my 10th visit in 3 years.
"His friends led him into the change rooms, stole his clothes, and gave
him a girl's uniform to wear. They thought it was funny," Lisa answers
for me. "Then that asshole, Caleb, attacked him in the stairwell."
"Your friends did this to you, eh?" Nurse Maddie says lightly. "Sounds
like your friends aren't really friends."
She takes me by the hand and leads my into the inner room.
"Sit, please. Let's get a look at you," she advises.
I climb onto the table. She holds my chin gingerly and looks at my face,
turning it this way and that.
"Yep, you've got a shiner," she says as she grabs a tube off a shelf.
"This will help with the swelling and make it heal faster."
She applies a liberal quantity of the cream on my face. She also applies
some on the small bruises on my arms.
"Caleb clamped those hands fingers of his pretty hard on your arms,
didn't he?"
I nod. The lotion is soothing.
"This is great stuff to conceal the bruise too. No one should notice it's
there," she adds. "Keep you pretty."
"Thanks," I mumble. She doesn't catch the sarcasm so I begin to protest
but she speaks first.
"Do you hurt anywhere else?" she asks genuinely concerned.
I reach for my blouse and find it untucked. Lifting it to my shoulders, I
show her my torso. I haven't the faintest idea what it looks like but it
is sore. She pokes me with her fingers a bit and rubs her hand gently in
other places. In a moment, she's pulling the blouse back down.
"Nothing broken, nothing bruised under there," she says.
She looks at my face again and reaches for her cream.
"I should even this out a bit," she says as a sponge is dabbed all over
my face.
"Now, you can't even tell there's a bruise," she beams, "and I think it
evens out your complexion nicely, too."
She helps me off the bench and straightens my skirt.
"You do make a pretty girl, Jason," she adds as I leave her office.
"What?" I ask out of surprise. "A pretty girl?" I cough.
No, I don't want to *be* a girl. I just want to... I don't know what I
want anymore. I don't want to wear this outfit anymore. I just want to go
home, run around in shorts and a tee, and play some Skyrim or something.
I need to lash out at something and slaughtering a dragon would be
perfect. Yes, I want to be home playing video games, right now. I don't
trust anyone, not even my mother. I need to leave but I want to stick
around Lisa. After all, we have the rest of the period to kill because of
our hall passes.
She quickly ushers us out of the nursing station. Lisa is suddenly
excited.
"You could be very pretty, you know," she ponders. "Come with me now, I
want to try something."
I follow her but I'm sure I know what she was thinking. Soon enough, we
enter the girl's changeroom. I cannot be seen here. This is big trouble.
I resist her as she pulls me inside.
"C'mon," she says as she tugs. "It'll be just for a second. Besides, you
are one of the girls now, aren't you?"
"No," I whimper.
I am most definitely not one of the girls. I have a dick and I like
chicks. I am not a chick and I do not like dicks. Definitely not a girl.
No way.
"They catch me," I whine, "I'm suspended."
"Get in here," she urges, "for just a second."
"You want to put make up on me..." I say, beaten again.
"You're already wearing make-up," she points out. "Look!"
She finally pulls me into the girl's changeroom and in front of a large
mirror.
"The cream Maddie used is also a concealer..." she says happily, "That's
make-up. You're wearing make-up." She points to my face in the mirror,
"See how it covers up not just the bruise but all the blemishes. Your
skin is perfect." She is in glee. "See!"
I don't entirely get it. She says my blemishes are covered but I never
really noticed any before. I can tell that my face does look really,
really smooth.
"What do you want to do, then?" I ask. Here it comes. Crossdressed and
made-up. There is no game here.
"Not much. Don't worry, you big baby," she teases.
She has no idea how that particular tease affects me. I slump. She coaxes
me onto the counter and digs into her purse. I sit there with my knees
together and my feeting swaying.
"All right, all right," I say finally. "Have your fun."
"I'm just going to put on a little lipstick and mascara," she considers,
"and some eyeliner. Yeah..."
Oh fuck me.
"Ok," I forfeit my masculinity. "Just get this over with."
She spends a few moments drawing on my face around my eyes and lips. She
switches to a small gunky brush and tells me to clos my eyes. She brushes
the eyelashes. She combs my hair around a bit and "Humphs" to herself a
bit. She tells me to pout and I stick my lips out like a monkey. She
slaps my lips lightly and insists I play nice. I push my lips out a bit.
She tacks on some goo. I open my eyes.
"You look good!" she beams. "Turn around." She pulls me off the counter
and spins me around. "See."
I do not look like an idiot. I look like a girl. An underdeveloped girl,
but a girl.
"What the hell!?" I ask no one.
"You're a girl now!" she squeaks excitedly.
"Now what?" I ask.
"Now," she states, "you go to class."
"Oh come on! I can't do that," I protest.
She runs out of the changeroom, "What if I call Mr. Charles over?" she
asks. "What would he do if he finds you in the girl's room?" she teases.
I follow her out of the changeroom. I'm nervous as all hell. Now I'm
trying to pass for a girl. What the hell happened to me in the last 24
hours?
"You'll be fine..." she starts saying but I hear a booming voice from the
end of the hallway.
"There you are!" Mr. Hennell strides over and takes my wrist. "We're
waiting for you in the office."
He pulls me along and Lisa falls in time on Mr. Hennell's other side.
"What's going, on Mr. Hennell?" she asks.
"Muh," he glances at me for a moment, "Muh-iss Feller's needs to present
her side of the altercation. Mr. Bonney is with Principal Charles.
"Don't call me 'miss'," I mumble quietly. He doesn't hear. I don't think
Lisa does either.
Swiftly we arrive at the school office again. I can see Mr. Caleb Bonney
through the glass separating the Principal's office from the rest of us.
He's getting an earful.
The Vice-Principal turns to Lisa. "Return to class, miss."
"Bye Jay," she scurries offf. "Make sure they punish Caleb good."
Im sitting in the Vice-Principal's office, again.
"Please tell me what happened so that I can assess the situation," he
says calmly as he picks up a notepad and pen.
I gave him my version of the story. He basically knows what happened but
he wants to take in my side verbatim. All the time, he keeps looking at
my lips and eyes. When I was done, he puts down the pad.
"I've already called your mother. She will be here to collect you
shortly," he tells me. "I told her you may be having thoughts about your
gender identity."
I mouth the word "No" but I can't speak.
"Incidentally, you do may a pretty young woman," he flattered me.
I blushed but quickly protested, "I am not a girl, dammit! Why is
everyone trying to turn me into a..." I noticed he was looking over my
shoulder and stopped.
I turned to see my mother standing at the receptionist's desk. I'd say
she'd been looking at me for a few moments.
"Oh my sweet baby..." she said.
"Girl?" we asked in unison.
END OF PART EIGHT
Elle
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