The End of Jessica Munroe Part 5
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The End Of Jessica Munro. The Final Part free porn video
Events happened quickly after the party. Events entirely out of Art's
control. Linton had run upstairs towards Jessica's room only to find the
door locked. He had manged to break it down and run to the side of a
sobbing Jessica alone in bed. It wasn't long before the whole party had
ascended the stairs to Jessica's room to check on the host of the party.
Linton had told them all what had happened, about how the red headed girl
who had been making her way across the school sucking off boys had
cornered him in the cellar, had tried to convince him that she should do
the same to him. How the girl was really a boy. How the girl was really
Art.
Art had managed to sneak out of the party while the majority of the
guests were upstairs. He hadn't wanted to be around when Doyle or Marcus
or any of the dozen others that he had pleasured found out that had been
the work of another boy. He had walked home quickly that night, wanting
to be inside away from prying eyes. Suddenly the look he had perfected,
the make up and hair, the dresses, the shaved legs, it all felt wrong on
him. Arriving home, he had run to the bathroom and scrubbed desperately
to remove every last trace of eye liner, lip gloss and foundation. He had
thrown his dress and his shoes into the bag he kept beneath his bed and
messed his hair up the best he could, trying hard to remove any
femininity from himself.
The Monday morning came around too quickly. Art faked sickness,
convincing his mum to let him skip school. It was a desperate attempt to
forgoe the inevitable. It was an attempt that would not work again come
Tuesday. On the first day of the week Jessica's parents had marched into
the school and demanded to see the principal. They revealed everything.
It was before Monday lunch time that Art's mum got a call from the
school. Soon she knew everything as well. She had exploded. She had
always been a liberal woman, a woman who would have accepted the idea
that her son wanted to wear dresses, but could not abide the acts that
Art had engaged in. She could not understand how a son of hers had been
driven to do the things he had done. She refused to accept the reasons he
gave, or the apology he offered. She searched his room, she found the bag
of clothes and make up that Art had kept hidden and she devised a plan
for them to move forwards. Art's male clothes were thrown out, all of
them. If he wanted to act like a girl, then she was willing to facilitate
it.
The first day Art arrived back at school he wore the same black skater
dress he had worn when taking the trip into town the morning after
sucking his first cock. He wore minimal make up on his own mothers
insistence. The principal had called him into the office. She had
informed Art that while she did not agree with the behaviour he had
engaged in, it had happened outside of school hours and she had no
authority on which to expell him. She had also been informed by Art's
mother about his wish to attend school in dresses now. It was not a wish
he himself had ever expressed. She warned him of reprisals from other
students and offered manditory words of support should Art need them. He
didn't respond. He had accepted his fate.
In class and in the school cafeteria it was as bad as Art had feared. The
abuse he could live with, shouts thrown at him from distance. He found it
difficult to accept just how alone he felt. Before all this had happened,
before he had first tried on a dress or make up, Art had been a part of a
small group of friends. Even they had abandoned him. Danny and the others
had taken to refusing to acknowledge his existence. They never looked at
him. Art tried not to look back.
A week after the party and Jessica had still not returned to school. It
soon became apparent that she never would. Her parents had removed her
from the school, partly due to the principal's refusal to expell Art and
the acceptance of his new style of dress, and partly to take her away
from Linton. They had found out about him through the stories they had
heard. She had been moved to a private school in the countryside, an all
girls school where this bizarre sort of event could never happen. Art had
wanted to prove that Jessica was nothing special and now, surrounded by
rich, intelligent, beautiful private school girls just like her, she
wasn't. Linton seemed broken by her leaving. If Doyle and Marcus threw
insults Art's way to mask their own shame at going with a guy, Linton had
adopted the same tactics as Danny. He avoided Art, the best he could.
Art had received the first text message almost two weeks after the party,
with only one week of the school year left. A message from Doyle of all
people. The only person to reach out to him. Art had a mind to delete the
text immedietly, destroy any connection to the things he had done, the
shame. But he didn't. This was the first text he had received in weeks,
and those long weeks of not talking to anyone had taken their toll. By
now, any conversation was welcome conversation. The text itself wasn't
conciliatory but it wasn't altogether insulting. Doyle wanted a blow job.
Art pointed out he was a guy. Doyle said that he knew, he just didn't
care. Art had a talent for it, he said. Besides, he would make sure no
one found out. Art knew a threat when he read one. He had taken this all
in. He desperately wanted to say no. He wasn't a girl! It had all been a
huge mistake! He didn't give blow jobs to boys on demand! He wanted to
say no, but he didn't. He still found himself in the toilet at lunchtime
with Doyle's cock in his mouth. He was happy for the company. The next
day, more texts from more boys. They all wanted some of the action,
providing no one else found out. School was ending soon and they wanted
to take any last chance they could. Art had obliged all those he could.
It beat being cast adrift and alone, he figured.
The very last day of Art's college life rolled around faster than he had
expected. The school was abuzz with energy. Groups of girls gathered in
circles, passing photos to each other, crying as if they would never see
each other again. Boys goofed off, lazing around the sun drenched school
gardens happy to see the back of a busy exam period. Art sat alone on a
bench in the corner of a concrete school yard. The breeze whipped around
his bare legs, lifting the hem of his skirt slightly. His long, auburn
hair blew gently across his face, sticking slightly to his nude lip
gloss. He watched the school day pass him by and sighed. He had really
done it. Playing the last few months over in his mind he couldn't believe
he had. This is where it had gotten him. Cast aside in skirts and make
up. He sighed again, and lifted his hands to his face, covering the
people in front of him. Only a couple more hours now and it would all be
over. He'd never have to see any other again.
"Alright?" Art dropped his hands from his eyes, the bright sunlight
streaming in and blinding him slightly. He squinted up at the round,
bespeckled face of Danny, his now former friend.
"Hello." This almost felt like the first word he had spoken since the
party. The boys he had been sucking of had not welcomed conversation. The
voice that left his lips was soft, girlish. Danny looked away, clearly
uncomfortable. Art did too.
"So," Danny broke the silence, "Last day."
"Yeah." This was almost unbearable. All Art wanted to do was tell his
friend he was sorry, that he didn't know what had happened. If he could
take it all back he would.
"What the fuck happened?" Danny asked the question, one he had been dying
to know the answer to for weeks. He still didn't look towards Art,
unwilling to accept that the pretty, red headed girl sat in front of him
in a short, white skirt with shaved legs and visible make up was his
friend. Art looked up towards Danny. What could he say? He couldn't tell
his the truth. He couldn't say his seething jealousy for the most popular
girl in school had driven him to try on his mum's clothes, buy his own
clothes, leave the house dressed as a girl, be propositioned as a
prostitute and be picked up by police. How could he tell Danny he had
arranged to meet another crossdresser at a bar only to end up sucking
Doyle's cock, that he had sucked plenty of other cocks and that he had
enjoyed the sense of power it had given him? He had driven away the girl
he hated most, and was still taking men into bathroom stalls, still
dressing like a girl. If he told Danny the truth it would have sounded
like a lie. So that's what he did. He lied.
"Danny," Art paused until Danny relented and looked down towards him,
"This is me. I've never been able to say it till now but this is how I've
always seen myself. I am a girl. I only just realised it myself."
"Really?" Danny asked.
"Yes." Art lied. Danny paused.
"Y'know,you could have said something. I wouldn't have had a problem with
it."
"Really, because I've been wearing dresses to school for the past three
weeks and you've not said a word to me." Art could feel himself getting
angry. Danny shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah but not because of how you're dressed. It's because of what you've
done with all the boys. Did you really have to do it with so many of
them?"
"I..." Art paused. He felt a lump form in his throat. Oh god, was he
actually going to cry? He was a fucking girl. He swallowed hard, forcing
himself to stop, "I'm sorry."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Danny. I should have said something." Danny looked down. If
he had felt uncomfortable before the film of tears across Art's eyes made
him feel worse. He made to move forwards, to put his hand on the shoulder
of the girl sat in front of him, but stopped. He wasn't at that point,
not yet. Instead h coughed a little and put his hand in his pocket.
"It's OK."
"Are you sure?
"I said it's OK," Danny fidgeted some more, while Art gazed up at him,
something resembling a smile dancing on his made up lips. It seemed like
a very long time before Danny spoke again, "I kind of thought it might be
you anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"A red haired girl who loves sucking cocks. Who else was it going to be?"
Danny flashed a quick smile down at Art. It was an awkward smile and it
only lasted a second but it was a start, Art reasoned.
"You didn't really know it was me."
"I did," Danny smirked again, "I've seen the way you look at me. You want
me."
"Fuck off," Art giggled. It was the first time he had laughed in a very,
very long time. It felt good.
"Listen, me and a few of the guys are gonna head to a pub after school. I
don't know if they'd be happy for you to come but maybe I can try and
explain things to them, see if I can get them to loosen up a little.
Maybe you can join us later."
"Thanks, but I'm still very much grounded."
"Oh," Danny seemed disappointed, "I guess that makes sense. Well we've
got a whole summer off. I'm sure we can sort something out at some point.
Look, I'll...er..I'll see you around." With that he was gone, striding
back across the concrete quickly, back towards a group of boys. Art
watched him go. He breathed out deeply. That could have gone a lot, lot
worse.
The bell rang out loud across the school, signalling the last lesson of
the day, the last lesson of college. Art watched as little by little the
throngs of students moved there way back inside. He didn't move. He
watched as the last student entered the building before standing up,
taking care to pull his skirt down at the back to cover his behind. He
stretched his arms high above his head and arched his back. This really
was it. The last day. He began to walk back towards the front door, the
scuffing of his heels on the concrete echoing out across the school
grounds. One more hour and he could leave this place behind forever. He
knew he would be the last one in the classroom, that all eyes would be on
him. He had come to expect that recently. He guessed that is what it
meant to be a someone. In the end, the very end of the school year, he
had made himself a someone. He proved that anyone could be like her,
Jessica Munroe. She was gone now. There was only one top bitch and Art
was her.
Avriella
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