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Me I was a young rough. Fourteen - and a hell of a guy - in my own opinion. Strange really. I was not built like a football player. On the contrary I was rather slim and not very tall. I always got into trouble, though. My dad had left mom several years ago. Good riddance. I never missed him. My mom had only me - and I seemed to disappoint her all the time. So after some time she looked for help. She was referred to a boarding school. It meant sacrifices for her. But she seemed to want that instead of having the police approach her every week. The school We drove out there together. "What the hell is this place? In the middle of nowhere, even." "It's a boarding school. I don't want you around any more." "I'm too tough for you, eh?" She did not answer me. We arrived. "It looks like a prison." My mom laughed. "Not a prison. It has a perimeter to scare away the coyotes. If you want to escape, the perimeter will not stop you. The desert will." "You are determined?" "Look. A year ago you promised me to change." I did not answer. The headmaster A woman came to meet us. "Mrs Donovan? I'm Claire. And you must be Bill? Welcome." We went into her office. We sat down. "Now. You have been suggested to enroll your boy in our school. Do you realise the nature of the school?" "Yes." "And you are willing to sign the entry form?" "Yes." "Good. Here's the form. Please sign it. When you called we had it filled in advance." She signed - and immediately afterwards someone came up to me from behind and put a collar around my neck. I was surprised. I had not heard the door open. I flared up. "What the hell? What are you doing to me?" I sat down at once and shut up. I was sure that the collar made me do that. I wanted to shout. Wanted to attack that bitch. My mother as well. I could not move. What was all this? "All right, Mrs Donovan. You need to choose a name for her." "I think that Maria would be a nice name for her." I wanted to shout again. The collar still made me shut up. Maria? Her? "Very well." The headmaster took out a card and filled it. I could see that she wrote 'Maria'. "I need you to sign this card as well." My mother signed it. "That is all?" "Yes, Mrs Donovan. Maria is now enrolled in this school of ours. When Maria has finished the first grade - probably four months from now, we'll have yet another conversation if you want her to enter the second grade. To clear up any misunderstandings - the first grade includes preliminary courses of cooking, cleaning, taking care of infants, dressing and behaving like a young lady. We'll read romance novels and watch romantic movies and discuss them.The decisive subject, however, is makeup. To pass the exam all the girls will have to turn up every morning and every evening for a week for inspection. If their makeup is not perfect, they'll fail. On graduation day we expect their mothers to appear and converse with their daughters. That is also part of the exam. If you should be dissatisfied with Maria - or we detect anything wrong, she'll fail as well." I was devastated. My mother was leaving me in the hands of these lunatics? I could not say anything, though. "That's just what you told me on the phone. I accept everything." She got up and the two lunatics shook hands. Enrolled When my mother had left, Claire got up and said: "Follow me." I did not get up. I would oppose everything they might throw at me. At once I felt a jolt that really hurt. "You had better toe the line. Come on, Maria." I tried to free myself from the collar. At once I got a really severe jolt. That hurt even more. "A word of advice, Maria. Never - ever - try to open the collar. This was just a warning." I got up and followed her. I had little choise. My roommates We came to a room with beds for four. The beds were in four different colors - all very feminine. And the outfitting was also feminine. A bookcase was full. Four small wardrobes had colors that showed that they belonged to the occupants of the beds. A door slightly ajar showed the bathroom. Three girls got up at once and curtsied to the headmaster. Were they girls? They also had collars around their necks. That indicated that it might be difficult to get rid of those. I'd have to try, though. "This is Maria. She has just been enrolled. Please show her the ropes." Claire left at once. "What on Earth is this asylum?" I asked. "Don't talk like that, Maria. You'll get punished. My name is Dorothy." The others chimed in: "Emily, Patricia." "I don't care. My name is Bill." Before I had thought about the answer, I was writhing on the floor. "Don't call yourself anything but Maria. I am responsible for this room. If you cut up rough any more, we'll all get punished. And we don't want that." "Are you girls?" "Yes. We used to be boys." That seemed to be an acceptable answer in this place. "Take off your clothes." "What?" "Look. If anybody here gives you an order - and she has the authority - obey at once." "I don't want to do that." At once we heard a voice: "Dormitory fifteen will be punished. You will all line up for maid duty tomorrow." Emily's face showed disgust. Just afterwards I felt that I could not move. The others - I'd better call them girls - came over and undressed me. They carried me to one of the beds and cuffed me - face down. The responsible girl picked up my clothes and said to the others. "I'll deliver her old clothes to the supervisor. In the meantime you may whip her. Don't make her suffer more than necessary." After a few minutes I was crying. When Dorothy returned, she whipped me a bit more. Apparently just for show. I appreciated that. Then she released me. "I got a nightie for you, Maria. Put it on. We are supposed to be in bed." "Why? It's only eight." "We are allowed to read in bed. And we are allowed to talk - especially about today's movie." "What's its name?" "I don't know. Anyway. Let's get to bed. I want to read. What do you say girls?" The others accepted her suggestion, so I had little choise but to follow their example. In my nightie I went to the bookcase to look for something worth reading. "What is this rubbish? This is for girls of twelve - not for us." "Maria, shut up. Do you want to get us all into more trouble?" I shut up. I chose a book that I hoped to be the least offensive. It turned out to be about girls of our own age. Their most important duties seemed to keep their clothes clean - playing with dolls - doing their makeup - and talking about their big sisters. They were envious about their fancy clothes. I soon fell asleep. Morning In the morning Dorothy showed me how to make up the bed. "Why?" "Maria. I show you only once. If you don't do these things right every time, you'll be punished. And the punishment might spill over. We wouldn't want that. Would we, Maria?" I grumbled. "Maria! My authority is not very great. But it's still there. When somebody in authority says something to you, you respond clearly. And you curtsy and respond - yes, Miss Dorothy. Have you got that?" I grumbled some more. The next second I was writhing on the floor. When I could get up again, Dorothy asked: "Learned your lesson, Maria?" I held out the sides of the nightie, curtsied, looking down I said: "Yes, Miss Dorothy." These collars could sure hurt. "Good girl. Now. Head for the shower and hurry up. There are two kinds of soap. One is for the body. The other is for your hair. Don't use anything else for your hair. You might lose your pretty hair." The soap was scented like hell. It made my skin smell like a girl. I used as little as possible. My hair needed washing as well. The shampoo was also smelly. The girls showered as well. Then they put on maid dresses. "We don't have any for you, Maria. Come with me, and we'll have one issued." "Like this?" "You are welcome to wear anything from your closet." I looked inside. "Nothing." So we went - she in her uniform and I in my nightie. It was degrading. Dorothy knocked on some door. "Come in." We entered. Dorothy curtsied. "Good morning, Miss Jones. We are assigned to maid duty, but our new girlfriend does not have a uniform." The woman got up. "Doesn't she know how to greet me?" "I'm sorry, Miss Jones. Maria arrived yesterday, and she has not really settled down." "Bend over, Maria." I just looked at her. Then I was writhing. They picked me up and dressed me over the writing desk. The pain stopped - just to be replaced by a severe cane lash over my bottom. I cried out. "Get up, Maria." I had learned this lesson as well. I curtsied to her. "I am so sorry, Miss Jones. It will never happen again." "I hope not." She fetched a tape measure and did what was necessary. She fetched a maid uniform and gave it to me. Dorothy kicked me. I curtsied at once. "Thank you, Miss Jones. You have been very kind. I'll wear this uniform with pride." She looked at me with a frown. "Kind of slow, aren't you?" Dorothy said: "Put it on, Maria. Hurry up. We'll get demerits if we are late." Miss Jones said: "Wait a minute. Maria doesn't wear a training corset. Why's that?" Dorothy curtsied. "I don't know, Miss Jones. Maria came to us - just like this." She seemed nervous. "Just a minute." Miss Jones went to her phone and called someone. We heard only her part of the conversation. "I have Maria here. She's supposed to be a maid today. She has no training corset. Do you know why?" A short silence. "Yes, Miss Claire. Will do." She put down the phone. "All right, Maria. Get dressed. I'll call the maid detail and tell her that you've been delayed. Dorothy, make sure that you deliver Maria to fitting at noon." Heading for the door Dorothy whispered to me: "When we leave the room we are supposed to curtsy again." Morning duty All four of us went to the maid squad leader. Again we curtsied. Dorothy said: "Good morning, Miss Damian." "All right. Let's get cracking." "What's for breakfast?" I blurted out. She looked at me. "Why is your collar's name tag empty, girl?" Dorothy curtsied. "Her name is Maria, Miss Damian. She is new. She's supposed to be fitted at noon." She looked at me. "I hope that you learn quickly, Maria. Otherwise you'll find the stay with us rather stressfull." I agreed silently with her - meaning something completely different. I intended to teach them a lesson. "Anyway, Maria. Full day's maids do not get any breakfast. So you made your three friends lose theirs as well. I hope that they appreciate it." We went to work. It was boring. Her own chores seemed to be a supervisor only. She took that seriously enough. She faulted my work almost all the time. At some time she said: "Maria! You're not absorbed by your work. One demerit." Dorothy whispered to me soon after: "Ten demerits will put you on maid duty again. Management decides if it spills over. Try to do your work properly. Please, Maria." I didn't. Before noon I got two more demerits. After the third demerit Miss Damian called somebody. "Maria is not properly motivated with maid duty." Soon after I got a jolt from the collar. It was followed by an annoying feeling close to pain. It kept up. It forced me to try to do the work better. A couple of times Miss Damian remarked: "Good work, Maria." At those times the pain was replaced with some sort of happiness - for a short time. At a time I tried to say the same phrase. The pain was doubled. One more lesson learned. The collar - or their control system seemed to be keyed to the supervisor. Damn. The increased pain kept up. It was quite upsetting. I started tripping and making mistakes. I approached the coach. "Excuse me, Miss Damian. This pain is making me lethargic - and that causes me to make mistakes. Will you please take it away?" "We can't have that." She called someone again. "Let go of the punishment for Maria." Then she turned to me. "But you did not promise to be a good girl. You did not say that it was your wish to be a proper maid for today. All in all your apology was very sloppy. One more demerit." My fourth in so few hours? I cursed under my breath. "What was that?" She yelled. "Nothing, Miss Damian." "Collar. Repeat what Maria said." I did not know that it could do that. It did. "One more demerit for foul language - and two for lying. Seven demerits! I wondered what the record was. When Miss Damian was out of earshot, Dorothy said: "You'd better pull yourself together, Maria. If you keep this up, you'll be on permanent maid duty. Do you want that?" "That depends on what other options I have." Noon I was getting quite hungry. When Miss Damian was out of earshot I asked Dorothy. "You'll not get any food before six. At twelve I'll deliver you to be fitted. Then I'll head for the cafeteria." She looked at her watch. "Twenty minutes from now." "Could you get something for me, please? I'm famished." "If I did that - and it was discovered - I would get twenty demerits. I'd probably get demoted as well. As I told you - my authority is small. But I don't want to lose it." "What is this fitting?" "First of all they'll measure you and print your name on your collar tag. Then you'll get a training corset. You'll find it very constricting. In time I think you'll find it fine. Then you'll get one more maid costume - and two school uniforms. Plus lingerie of course. Then they put makeup on you and you collect what you need for doing that yourself. After they have finished you are supposed to hurry back to our room and put everything in place. And please do it properly. They are almost always inspecting the rooms of new girls." At noon Emily and Patricia headed for the cafeteria at once. Dorothy and I approached the coach. We both curtsied. Dorothy said: "Thank you, Miss Damian. I'll now bring Maria to the fitting room. We shall all be happy to be back here at halv twelve." "Good. And Maria - you are getting better. Congratulations." I felt a deep sense of pleasure. Probably the damned collar. But it was real. For the first time that day I felt satisfied. We left. We hurried to the fitting room. Dorothy left me. I knocked on the door. "Come in." I went in - saw two ladies - and said: "My name is - Maria." Damn that was close. I was just about to use my forbidden name. "I am supposed to be fitted." "One demerit for not curtsying. Take off your dress, girl." The corset was indeed constricting. "I can't breathe." "Of course you can, silly girl. This stays on day and night. Do you understand, Maria?" I curtsied and replied: "Yes, ladies." "Come over here to the makeup mirror." I sat down. "Hm. You have a good complexion. Fine for a good mixture of colors. Do you have any favourites, Maria?" "No? I have never used makeup." "Never? Well, well. That is a pity. We'll soon remedy that." They did. I picked up all of 'my' stuff and headed for the door. In time I remembered the code of this place. I turned and curtsied to them. "Thank you for these precious gifts, ladies. I promise to look after everything." Afternoon chores I was just in time getting back to the maid squad. Dorothy said: "Good, Maria. Did you arrange your outfits?" "Sure." "Your makeup as well?" "Well. I just put them in my drawer." "Silly girl. Probably one more demerit. When we get back, look into our drawers and learn the proper order." At two Dorothy approached the coach and curtsied. "Miss Damian. We must leave now. We have classes in a quarter." "Yes. You are dismissed. Maria? You have been a good girl - in spite of your inexperience." I felt a deep compassion for this woman. She was so nice to me. Deep down I was horrified. This bitch had punished me many times. Nice to me? What a joke. The collar made me feel that I wanted to do anything to please her. I knew - intellectually - what was going on. Still I curtsied. "Thank you, Miss Damian. I should very much like to learn to be a maid." What was I doing? Probably that damn collar. I would have to look out. They were not going to break me. We hurried back and changed to our 'normal' school dresses. Then we hurried to class. Classes Dorothy pointed to a desk. "That is yours, Maria. This class is physics. Pull out your name card, fill it out and place it in the front of the desk." "Thanks." I did that like everyone else. The teacher entered. We all stood up. One of the girls went to the front, curtsied and greeted the teacher. "Welcome, Miss Uptown. Class is ready." "Sit down, girls. Pull out your physics books. Go to page 28. Read from there to page 35." I was a bit surprised. Reading the stuff in class? Oh, well. I started reading. I finished after a quarter or so. After twenty minutes one of the girls put up her hand. "Have you all finished, girls? Madeleine? Suzanne?" The girls in question got up, curtsied and replied: "Yes, Miss Uptown." "What about you, Maria?" I got up and curtsied as well. "Yes, Miss Uptown." "Good girl. Are you a fast reader?" "Fair, Miss Uptown." I curtsied again. Better play it safe. "Your behaviour is very good for a new girl." I felt a jolt of pleasure and a deep compassion for this kind teacher. At the same time I was worried about that damned collar. It was messing with my head. "All right girls. What's new?" Dorothy got up. "Miss Uptown. Next week I'll start my exam." "Very good. Girls! I want you all to go over to Dorothy and check her makeup." I was really surprised. This was class. Physics. What had Dorothy's exam to do with class? I knew that makeup was an important part of her exam - but why should it interfere with class? I queued up to inspect Dorothy. Then we went back to our seats. "Any comments?" They chatted away for endless minutes - without getting up or curtsying. In the end Miss Uptown asked me: "What's your opinion, Maria?" I was not sure if I should get up or not. I decided to do that. I curtsied as well. "Well, Miss Uptown - as I see it Miss Dorothy's makeup is perfect - but her complexion and her hair seem to call for lighter shades." "Interesting. I am not an expert, but let's try it out. How much time have we got?" "Not more than five minutes." "That's too short a time." She considered. "Look, girls. If you all read from page 36 to 42 for next week, we'll use the whole hour to try it out. I suggest that you use those five minutes and the break to read. All right, girls. I'll leave you now." Everybody grabbed her book and started reading. Almost everyone had finished when we started the next class. The same girl went to the front and curtsied. "Welcome, Miss Shingleton. Class is ready." "All right, girls. Get out your math book and read from page 127 to 130." The same thing happened as the previous class. We read. And she asked Madelaine and Suzanne - and me - if we had finished. This time, however the girls ended up discussing dresses. "You are a silent girl, Maria?" I got up and curtsied. "Pardon, Miss Shingleton. But my experience with dresses is very limited. This one is only the second I've worn." "Oh, yes. You are new, aren't you? What do you say, girls? Should we use the rest of the class to dress Maria up in various dresses? Then we could discuss at the same time." That idea seemed to catch on. So we went there and used up endless minutes to dress - and undress - me. At the end Miss Shingleton remarked: "I'm surprised that you haven't detached your garters, Maria. Who's your room responsible girl?" Dorothy stepped forward. "I am, Miss Shingleton. I'm sorry. I didn't inform her that they were detachable. Maria must have assumed that we were supposed to wear stockings." Miss Shingleton laughed. "All right, girls. That was a slip-up. Not requiring a demerit." Dorothy curtsied and said: "Thank you very much, Miss Shingleton." The teacher turned to me and frowned. "Your manners are not quite up to speed, Maria. And you are a bit too quiet in class. Collar, Maria - ten percent more talkative in class, fifteen minutes of pain, level two." That collar was a scientific marvel - but used for strange purposes. At once I could feel it. Dorothy and my other two room-mates helped me change my dress. I was too disoriented to do it myself. The pain ended just before next class. This was English. The pattern was precisely the same. Except that I contributed very much to the (important!) discussion about the length of dresses. Afternoon activities Our room had maid duty after the three school classes. We had to change dress two times. I was getting tired of these costume swaps. After that we had dinner - at last. I was famished at that time. Time for today's movie. I was not looking forward to it. It was probably some crap. The first hour - almost - was about a woman - or one like us? getting dressed. From the beginning she was wearing a corset and panties. What followed was evidently intended to program us. When she put on stockings I - and probably all of the 'girls' could feel the immense pleasure of the nylons sliding up our own legs. The slip was simply wonderful. And just going through her - large - number of dresses in her closet gave us a deep pleasure. I did not count the number of dresses she tried. But she changed her stockings two times. Three! times we had to go through the pleasure of putting on the nylons. This was pure brain- washing. Crap. The woman went on a date. We could feel her excitement as she walked down the street. We could hear her high heels clicking. We could feel her dress swinging - as if we were wearing it. She danced with some guy. We could feel her relaxing in his arms and her pleasure with the music and the dance. Between every dance he kissed her (us), and we were overwhelmed with pleasure. I tried to shut it out after the first kiss. After the movie we went to our room and to bed. Dorothy wanted a discussion about the movie. "How did you like the movie, girls?" Madelaine said: "I liked it. It seemed realistic, and I liked the boy very much. I wouldn't mind kissing him." I was surprised. How could she call this crap realistic? I said: "Most of an hour used for deciding what to wear? Is that realistic?" Dorothy replied: "I am sure that if you had that many dresses, you'd use just as much time for picking the best dress. How did you like the boy?" "I hardly saw him." "What? That good-looking fellow? Something is wrong here. Control!" A discreet speaker said: "Control here. Anything wrong?" "It seems that Maria pays too little attention to the movies." "Noted." The following four months After that they seemed to supervise me more. I seemed to pay better attention to the movies. Except for small differences those were all made in the same way. We were to meant to want to wear stockings. That kissing business also seemed to penetrate my defences. The days were all the same, except for one period in spring. We had the exam like everybody else in the country. I was devastated. The written exams in my facourite topics - mathematics and physics - were a complete disaster. That damned collar shut me down when I had finished about half. Did they not want me to get good grades? That also happened in most of my other exams - to a lesser degree. When we got the grades - almost only Ds. Except for our 'girly' subjects. In children's care I got a B-. Cooking a B. Skin care a B+. Cleaning a A-. When I saw the cleaning grade the collar made me feel that that should be my vocation. Deep inside I was horrified. Were they making me into a maid? To hell with them. I decided to stay focused on leaving this hellhole as soon as possible. End of first grade Finally - they were letting me finish my fist grade. I made an effort - and passed. My mother came for the completion and talked to Miss Claire in a meeting room. I was called shortly afterwards. Good! Now was the time to leave. I entered the room. I curtsied. "Good morning, Miss Claire, Mrs Donovan." Miss Claire said gently: "Sit down, Maria. You have just passed the exam for the first grade. We'll just talk for ten minutes or so. Then I leave you two to discuss your future. Have you had a good time here, Maria?" I played it safe. I wanted out and I did not want to rock the boat. I started to get up. Miss Claire interrupted. "This is not class, Maria. You don't have to get up. We are just talking." She continued to tell mom about the next grade. "We still have normal school curriculum - according to their age. But in second grade we appreciate that the girls learn to sew. To pass the exam they must sew their own gown - and wear it in front of the jury. In the first grade the girls stay four to a room. Second grade - two to a room. I think that all of our girls would like that, right Maria?" "Oh, yes, Miss Claire." The collar made me say that. I would have preferred not to answer. Miss Claire left. "You have changed quite a bit, Bill." "Mrs. Donovan! Please call me Maria. That is my name here." "Why do you call me Mrs. Donovan? Call me mom - like you used to." "Thank you, Mrs Donovan. I supposed that I had to have your permission to do that." "As I said. You have changed quite a bit - eh - Maria." "Thank you, mom." "Have you thought about the future?" "Definitely." I was about to tell her that I wanted to leave. But that damned collar took over completely. "It's a complex decision. If I leave now, you don't have to pay school fees any more. I would have to get a job. My grades were not exactly impressive. So I suppose that school is out. It might take a long time for me to get a job. On the other hand - if I stay here, the school promises me to teach me something useful. They have connections - and they try to fix jobs for us after the second grade. There is no guarantee. Two out of three girls leave after second grade for a job secured by the school." "That sounds like good thinking. But tell me, Maria. What would you like to do?" I wanted to tell her that I would get a minimum dose of hormones in second grade and maximum in third. So I was trying hard to ask her to let me leave. I could not. "Mom. It's not my decision. It's your money. Can you afford to keep me here? The school fees are a bit higher for second grade - and you'll have some more expenses." "Why?" "The fees cover cloth. We'll have to sew all our dresses. But we'll need to buy shoes and stockings." "Stockings? Don't you use pantyhose?" "No. Stockings only. Except that we are not allowed to wear them in the first grade." "Allowed? You haven't tried?" "No. I would like to try. How does it feel?" She laughed. "I wouldn't know. I've never tried. But you didn't answer me, Maria. Let me rephrase, then. If you would prefer to stay, it wouldn't matter much to me. Would you like to stay here for the second grade?" The collar made me light up. "Oh, yes please. I would like that very much." I was furious. I wanted to get out. But that damned collar had cheated me. "All right, Maria. If that's what you want, let's head for the office." Mom said: "Miss Claire. Maria has stated that she would love to stay for the second grade. Do I sign yet another card?" "Yes." She slid a card across the table, at the same time looking me in the eye. I knew what she was thinking - that bitch. She was forcing me to stay for at least four months more. Damn her. "If you have the time, we'd suggest that you take Maria into the nearest town for stockings and whatever you think she might need." "Shoes?" "If you want. Normally we say that the heels must be maximum two and a half inches. But we are not monsters. If Maria really wants some higher heels, we'll overlook ONE pair. Here are the addresses of various stores - including the one that sells nylons. You would want to buy her several pairs. Black for her maid outfits. Sheer for daily use. Maybe a few other kinds - depending on Maria's wishes." "All right. Dresses?" "Whatever she wants. Girls in second grade have bigger closets." Into town I knew that I was enrolled in second grade. I had no way to evade that. Especially because of that damned collar. But what about third grade? I had heard ominous rumors. If those were to be trusted, the 'girls' had a ball every Friday. Boys were imported to let them dance with a male partner. If one boy (or several) wanted to stay the weekend with their partner - and the girl 'allowed' it, he would. It made my skin crawl. Those damned movies had not (yet) changed my feelings. So I tried to find a way to have her promise not to accept the third grade. She interrupted my thoughts. "I think that you have changed for the better - eh - Maria. But do you want to stay a girl - I mean forever?" Again the collar took over. Apparently it functioned independently - without the support of the school system. I would have liked to say that that school had probably crippled me permanently already. "Oh mom. They are using the clothes to keep us in place. And they really know how to make you behave." The collar made it seem like a trivial matter. "All right. Let's face the positive news. What would you like to buy?" "Stockings are essential. Otherwise - not very much. We must think about your money." "Don't worry about that. I'm working full time now. And I've got a substantial raise. So don't worry your pretty head about that." I turned. My mom talking about me being pretty? Treating me like a girl? "All right, mom. I'll try to live up to your expectations." I tried again to think about the third grade. I wanted to know if she had read the contract carefully. Did she know about the hormones? Probably not. Was it in the contract? Probably. They wouldn't want lawsuits. "Now mom. About the third grade." "Yes?" "Do you think I should continue in third?" "What do you think?" "I think that I should find a job after the second." "But you said that the school gave no guarantees." "Yes." I tried to find some way to express this so I would not offend the collar. "Well, maybe I would have to wait a bit for something to appear." "But would you get a paper that said you were fully qualified?" I was about to lie, but: "No." "Would it not be best to have that paper?" I tried to find a way. "Not really. After second grade I will get papers that will state that I am qualified to enter a trainee position." I had to think hard to get that past the collar. "And four months later you would get the paper that said that you would not be a trainee any more?" "Yes." "It seems to me that those four months would be well spent." I was horrified. I might already be a sissy. But I was sure that those four extra months would break me. I had to postpone the decision. I had to THINK. Shopping I did not have the time to think while we were shopping. Much to my surprise - and to mom's - I seemed to be in Heaven. Ten pairs of black nylons. Ten pairs of sheers. I begged her for various colored stockings. "You know. Let's say that I sew a pink dress - then I'd really like to have stockings in the same shade." Leaving that particular shop I said: "Might I have a pair of stockings, please? I would like to try it on." "Sure." She handed me a pair of sheer. I went to the bathroom - almost trembling in anticipation. The pleasure was so great that I prolonged the process. Deep down I was worried. Then I joined mom again. "Thank you, mom." She noticed his beaming fase. "Not a very big purchase. All in all thirty pairs! Ten panties and matching bras and slips. Bras? Do you use that?" "Only to make the outfits match. In second grade I would get demerits if I wasn't wearing a bra." I was sure that after two months I would need to. The collar would not allow me to tell her. "Don't they make exceptions?" "Only for medical reasons. No big deal. I wouldn't want to wear something without the matching parts." "You like wearing a bra?" My mother had trapped the collar. I would like to chuckle. Instead I giggled. "Look mom. Bras are sexy. I don't feel sexy, but I think about girls wearing the same thing." It seemed that she was not completely satisfied with my (the collar's) remark. But she let it slide. It was annoying that I could not speek freely. "I would like to stop after second grade." I had to work hard to say that. Mom looked at me. "In three to five months I'll have to move to another flat. Wouldn't that collide with your exams?" The collar kept me quiet. This had not happened before during the conversation. I could hear some whispering - what? I could not really hear it. The collar made me say: "I'm thinking. Please be patient, mom." Then I heard it. That damned collar had apparently contacted the school. I heard Miss Claire clearly - like telepathy. I was sure that mom could not hear anything. "Maria. That's not nice. I'm disappointed in you. I have heard part of your conversation. You are the first girl who expresses a wish to leave us." I bet. Noone would be allowed to by that infernal machine. "I'll discuss your case with all of our teachers. I am sure that we'll turn you into a proper girl." The collar made me say: "All right, mom. You have made several points. Good ones." I paused - apparently to reflect. "Yes. You are completely right. I think it would be best if you made arrangements so that I go straight from second to third grade." She turned her head to see if I was serious. I must have looked sincere. "All right Maria. I'll do that."