Barford File 2 The Betancourts Chapters IX and X Final Chapters
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"B" IS FOR GIRL (chapter 2: "B" Is For Back To School) free porn video
"B" IS FOR GIRL
Chapter 2: "B" is for Back To School
"Good morning, Beverly," said mummy. "Time to get up. It's Monday! You're
going back to school today. Your first day at junior school, too! Isn't
it exciting?"
When I had stopped being a little baby girl on Saturday, two days before,
mummy had moved me back into my old bedroom. I hadn't been in my bedroom
since the start of the six weeks summer holidays. When I was a little
boy, my bedroom walls were blue, except for one wall which had Batman
wallpaper on it. Mummy had repainted my bedroom pink, and had changed the
Batman wallpaper to Barbie wallpaper. She had even changed the nameplate
on my bedroom door. It used to say "Barry's Room", but now it said
"Beverly's Room".
Mummy had filled my wardrobe with girl's dresses and shoes, and my chest
of drawers was full of frilly knickers and woolly tights and socks. One
day during the six weeks summer holidays, auntie Maureen had come and
looked after me while mummy had gone shopping. Auntie Maureen had
promised to make sure I was a good little baby girl while mummy was out.
I never knew what mummy had bought, until now.
"Mummy," I had said. "Where are my own clothes?"
"These are your own clothes, Beverly," she said. "I threw out all of your
old boys clothes and toys, remember? You will wear these pretty lacy
dresses and frilly knickers from now on, until you are a very good little
girl. Then perhaps mummy will think about letting you be a little boy
again."
"But I will be good, mummy!" I cried. "I promise! Please don't make me be
a little girl anymore! Please!"
Mummy shook her head. "You will be a little girl until I decide
otherwise. And the way you're behaving, that may be not be for a very
long time!"
Mummy had made sure I was able to go to the toilet properly. It had felt
a little strange at first, because I had been poopooing and peepeeing
into my nappy for the last six weeks. Mummy had told me I would be all
right, because she hadn't added the syrup of figs to my baby food for a
few days.
As well as the dresses, mummy had bought me a wig. My own hair had only
grown about half an inch since mummy had shaved it all off. "Little girls
should have nice, long hair," said mummy, "but yours is still all short
and stumpy. So you will have to wear this lovely wig all the time."
It was a ginger wig. It was very curly, and reached all the way down to
my shoulders. "Oh, mummy!" I said. "Why do I have to have ginger hair?
Everyone always makes fun of people with ginger hair!"
"Yes, darling," mummy said. "They do. Never mind, eh?"
Mummy tied white ribbons in the wig, one on each side of my head. Then
she made me put on one of the new dresses she had bought for me. It was a
bright red dress with short sleeves and a white lacy collar. I had to
wear a pair of frilly knickers underneath, and a pair of long white
socks, and a pair of girl's shoes.
Mummy said I looked like little orphan Annie, and she took some
photographs of me with her camera. She said she had already taken some of
me when I was a little baby girl. "When I get the film developed," she
said, " I will stick the pictures into your own special album to keep
forever!"
During the weekend mummy showed me how to pretend I was a real little
girl. She told me that I should always sit with my knees together, and
keep my elbows tucked in to my sides, and keep my shoulders back. And she
said that whenever I went to the toilet I had to sit down, even for
peepees.
Now that I was seven years old again, mummy allowed me to stay up until
nine o'clock. When I went to bed mummy made me wear a frilly pink
nightdress. I had to put my hair (mummy told me never to call it a wig)
on a special stand beside my bed, so that it would be nice to put back on
the next day.
When mummy woke me for school, I said, "Mummy, you're not really going to
send me to school dressed up as a little girl, are you? Everyone will
laugh at me and make fun of me."
But mummy smiled and said, "I'm sending you to school dressed as a little
girl because that's what you are now. I told you I was starting all over
again with you, and I meant it. Now come on, out of bed. Chop chop!"
After I had put on my hair, mummy coloured in my eyebrows with a special
pencil to make them look prettier. Then I put on a pair of frilly white
knickers.
"Good girl," said mummy. "Now for your new school uniform."
"Mummy!" I cried. "Do I have to wear the girl's uniform?"
Mummy just laughed. "But of course you do, Beverly! All the other little
girls will be wearing their lovely new school uniforms. You wouldn't want
to be the odd girl out, would you? And you'll look very pretty in your
little royal blue pinafore dress. Come along, now!"
First, mummy gave me a white blouse to put on. The buttons were on the
wrong side. "I'll help you with the buttons, Beverly," mummy told me.
"You'll soon get used to them, don't worry!"
After mummy had buttoned up my blouse, she dropped the royal blue
pinafore dress over my head and shoulders. The dress came down to just
above my knees. "A perfect fit!" said mummy. Then she fastened the red-
and-yellow school tie around my neck with a neat little knot, and tucked
the ends of the tie down the front of my pinafore. I had to put on a pair
of long white cotton socks, and a pair of very shiny black shoes. The
shoes had straps across the top, which went into silver buckles.
"There!" said mummy. "Oh, you are such a big girl now, Beverly! Come
outside and stand at the front door, and mummy will take your photograph
for the album."
After she had taken two or three photographs, mummy gave me a bright pink
anorak to put on, and then told me to get in the car. "I'll take you to
school today, Beverly," she said, "because it's your first day. But since
you're now a big girl, and school's not really very far away, you'll be
able to walk home by yourself."
It was only a short ride to school. Mummy stopped the car near the school
gates, and gave me a little pink purse. "Here's your dinner money," she
said. I put the purse in the pocket of my pinafore dress. "Off you go,
sweetheart," mummy said. "Have a nice day, and be a good girl."
I looked at mummy, and started to cry. "Mummy, please don't make--"
"Off you go," said mummy again, only more sternly.
I opened the car door, and stepped out onto the pavement. It was a windy
day, and my dress blew up around the tops of my legs. I walked part of
the way along the pavement towards the school gates, and then turned
around to wave to mummy. Mummy waved back, and then drove away.
When I went through the school gates into the playground, everyone
started staring at me. "Hey, look!" said Dennis Thornaby. "It's girlie
Barry!"
All of a sudden I was surrounded by a crowd of boys and girls. They were
all laughing at me, and calling me "Girlie Barry", and saying how pretty
I was. Then one of the boys lifted up my skirt. "He's wearing frilly
knickers! Aw, isn't he cute?" And they all roared with laughter, and
flapped my dress up again and again to show my knickers.
"Leave me alone!" I screamed. I tried to push my way past them, but one
of the boys pushed me back, so I punched him on the nose and made it
bleed.
Then one of the teachers, Mr Nairn, appeared. Everyone was afraid of Mr
Nairn, because he gave naughty boys and girls the slipper on their
bottom. "Beverly Bassenthwaite!" he shouted. "Mrs Templeton's office,
now!"
Mrs Templeton was the headmistress. Her office was on the top floor of
the school. When I got there, Mrs Templeton was waiting for me.
"Your mother asked me to keep an eye on you, Barry," she said. "She wants
me to see that you do not misbehave. Judging by what has just occurred in
the playground, you do not seem to be off to a good start, do you?"
"No, Mrs Templeton," I said.
"Your past behaviour in this school has been appalling, to say the least.
Your treatment of other pupils has been disgraceful, and your conduct
towards the teaching staff deplorable and disrespectful in the extreme.
We have tried to instil discipline in you by conventional means,
regrettably all to no avail. Do you understand what I'm saying, Barry?"
Mrs Templeton always used lots of big words when she talked. "I'm a very
naughty boy, Mrs Templeton?" I said.
"That's an understatement," she said. "Your mother has adopted a rather
unorthodox method of controlling your behaviour, borne out of
desperation. Whilst I harbour certain doubts as to its efficacy, I
believe her strategy is not without a modicum of merit. I have therefore
agreed to provide my full co-operation."
Mrs Templeton stood up. "Your mother has chosen to employ a form of
discipline known as petticoat punishment. She has decided to treat you as
a girl for no less than one whole year. You shall therefore attend this
school every day dressed as a girl, according to your mother's wishes. I
have directed the teachers to call you Beverly at all times. Your lessons
shall continue as normal in most respects, and in class you shall sit
with the girls as one of them. You shall also take PE with the girls. For
all intents and purposes, you are a girl. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Mrs Templeton."
"Good. There is one more thing. Although you are to be regarded as a
girl, I cannot in all conscience permit you to share the girl's toilet
facilities. You will therefore have exclusive use of the girl's toilet on
the top floor of the school. It will be placed out of bounds to all other
pupils." Mrs Templeton handed me a piece of paper. "Here is your lesson
timetable. Now, come with me."
"Where to?" I asked.
"We are going to the main hall, for school assembly."
Mrs Templeton took me downstairs to the door of the main hall. We waited
outside while the first hymn was being sung. When it finished, Mrs
Templeton opened the door and took me in. She told me to stand beside the
piano, and then she stepped onto a little platform.
"Good morning, boys and girls!" she said, in a loud voice.
"Good morning Mrs Templeton," all the children said together.
"Boys and girls, we have a new pupil at the school. She would like to
introduce herself to you all."
Mrs Templeton looked at me. "Stand on the piano stool and tell everyone
your name."
I climbed up onto the piano stool. "Good morning," I said. I was very
nervous, and my knees were shaking. "My name is Beverly Bassenthwaite."
"Good morning, Beverly Bassenthwaite," they all said back.
"Boys and girls," said Mrs Templeton, "Beverly used to be a very naughty
little boy called Barry. Most of you may remember him from infant school.
Barry is now a little girl, and will be treated accordingly. Beverly has
made a promise to be a good little girl from now on, so I expect each and
every one of you to give her the chance to prove herself. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Mrs Templeton!" everyone replied at once.
"Good. Beverly, you may now take your place amongst the other girls." I
stepped down from the piano stool and sat down cross-legged on the floor
with the girls. I felt very miserable and unhappy and silly. "And now,"
said Mrs Templeton. "we will sing "O Jesus, I Have Promised", number
126."
After assembly had finished, we went to our classes. My first lesson was
English, in room 3. We all had to line up in the corridor outside the
classroom until the teacher came. I stood near the back of the line, with
some of the other girls. One of them, Tracy Otley, tapped me on the
shoulder. "Barry," she said, giggling. "Are you really a girl now?"
"No," I said. "I'm not a girl. But I have to pretend to be a girl, and
wear dresses. Mummy says that when I learn to be very good, she'll let me
be a boy again. Mrs Templeton says I'm going to be a girl for a whole
year."
"Do you like being a girl, Barry?" asked Tracy.
"No," I said. "I hate it, because everyone is laughing at me."
"I won't laugh at you," said Tracy. "I'll be your friend, if you like."
I had never had any friends at school. No one had ever wanted to be my
friend, because I was such a very naughty boy. When Tracy said she would
be my friend it made me feel tingly all over. But I didn't want to be
friends with girls, so I told Tracy not to be so stupid.
Tracy looked upset and cross at the same time. "All right then, Beverly,"
she said. "But none of the boys will want to be friends with you either,
because it's sissy for a boy to be friends with girls."
"But I'm a boy!" I shouted at her.
"No, you're not," said Tracy. "You're a girl, because Mrs Templeton said
so."
Just then Miss Winchelsea arrived, and we all went into the classroom for
our English lesson. Miss Winchelsea made me sit with the other girls, on
the left side of the room. "Good morning, First Year Juniors," she said.
"I would like you all to stand up, one at a time, say your name, and then
sit down."
When my turn came, Miss Winchelsea told me to stay standing up. "So," she
said, "you are the little girl who used to be Barry Bassenthwaite, aren't
you? I've heard a lot about you, Beverly. I heard that you were a very
naughty little boy in infant school. Is that correct?"
"Yes, Miss," I said.
"Well, Beverly," Miss Winchelsea said, "you are looking very smart in
your new blue pinafore dress. I hope you will be on your best behaviour.
You may sit down. The same goes for all of you," Miss Winchelsea went on.
"I will not tolerate naughtiness. Any boy or girl who misbehaves in my
class can expect my slipper on his or her bottom."
All the other lessons began the same way. Mr Grassington, Mrs Douglas, Mr
Nairn and Miss Kettering all made me stand up to say my name, and then
said how they all expected me to behave like a good little girl instead
of the naughty boy I used to be.
At morning and afternoon playtime I stood all by myself near the school
gates. None of the other girls came near me, but some of the boys did.
Nicky and Ronnie and some of their friends ran past me, shouting "show us
your knickers!". It made me feel very angry, but also a bit sad and
lonely.
At lunchtime I went into the main hall and lined up for my school dinner.
Even the new dinner lady knew who I was. "Well, well!" she said. "So
you're Beverly Bassenthwaite, eh? Do you know Thomas Duffield, in the
year below you? You made fun of him in infant school, because of his
lisp. You made him very, very upset. I'm his mummy." Mrs Duffield picked
up a plate of mince pie, chips and peas. "Here's your dinner. Do you want
tomato ketchup on it?"
"Yes please, miss," I said.
Mrs Duffield picked up a bottle of tomato ketchup, and began to pour it
on my chips. "A good little girl," she said, "eats up all her dinner and
doesn't leave anything on her plate." She went on pouring the ketchup,
covering the chips all over. "Are you a good little girl, Beverly
Bassenthwaite?"
"Yes, miss," I said.
Mrs Duffield was still pouring the ketchup. "I'm pleased to hear that,"
she said, now covering the mince pie and the peas with the ketchup. "Here
you are," she said, handing me the plate. "What have you to say?"
"Thank you, miss," I said. I took my dinner money purse out of my
pinafore pocket and handed it to Mrs Duffield. She took out the money,
and then handed the purse back to me.
"Do you know how to curtsey, Beverly?" she asked me.
"No, miss," I said.
"Then get your mummy to teach you tonight. When I give you your dinner in
future, I want to see you curtsey."
"Yes, miss." I took my plate to a table, and sat down. The pie, chips and
peas were cold and tasted horrible, but I ate everything on the plate. I
had to use a spoon to scoop up all of the tomato ketchup. It made me feel
a little sick.
At hometime I had to walk home all by myself. I felt a bit afraid,
walking along the streets dressed in my blue school pinafore dress. Some
of the boys, including Nicky and Ronnie, followed me part of the way.
They called out my name, Beverly, over and over, and telling me to show
them my knickers. I nearly turned round to hit them, but I didn't want to
be naughty. I had tried very hard to be a good little girl all day.
When I got home, mummy asked me how my first day at school had been.
"It was very nice, mummy," I said. "I've been a good girl all day."
"You haven't been in any trouble at all, Beverly?"
"No, mummy."
"Well, that's wonderful, sweetheart. Did you get any homework?"
None of the teachers had given us any homework, because it was the first
day back. But I remembered what Mrs Duffield had said. "All the girls
have to learn how to curtsey, mummy," I said. I didn't want to tell mummy
that it was Mrs Duffield who had told me to learn how to curtsey. "Can
you teach me?"
"Of course, darling," said mummy. She showed me how to curtsey, and then
made me do it over and over until she was happy I was doing it right.
"You curtsey beautifully, Beverly," said mummy. "I'm sure Mrs Duffield
will be very impressed."
"Oh...!"
"Yes, "oh" indeed," said mummy. "Mrs Duffield is a friend of mine, you
see. And so is Mrs Templeton, your headmistress. They both telephoned me
this afternoon, to tell me about your first day. So I know all about the
little fight you started when you got to school. I know you shouted at
Tracy Otley in the corridor. Mrs Duffield said you didn't eat all your
dinner--"
"She's a liar!" I shouted. "I ate all my dinner!"
"You didn't go back for your pudding," said mummy. "That's very wasteful.
And I know it was Mrs Duffield who told you to learn how to curtsey, so
you lied to me about it being homework for all the girls. You've been a
naughty girl at school, and now you've told me lies to cover up your
naughtiness."
"Mummy, I--"
"I can see it will be a long time before you are even just a good girl,
never mind a very good girl. You need to learn respect and good manners,
Beverly!"
"Yes, mummy," I said.
"I'm glad you agree," said mummy. "So I've enrolled you in the Brownies,
starting next Tuesday evening. You'll have a lovely time, finding out how
to be a proper little girl. And you know the Brown Owl already. She's
looking forward to seeing you there."
The Brownies! That meant I would have to wear a little brown dress, and
do all sorts of horrible stupid girly things. "Who... who is the Brown
Owl, mummy?" I asked.
Mummy smiled. "It's the school dinner lady, dear. Mrs Duffield."
To be continued...
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