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Humiliated Janet L. Stickney [email protected] It was terrible what happened to me. In fact, it was the worst possible thing that had ever happened to me, and I had no escape, no way out of the mess I was in. My name is Jeff, I'm 16, and for as long as I can remember, I have been dressing up as a girl. The first time I actually left the house dressed as a girl was when I was 14, and luckily, I didn't have any trouble at all, which made me braver than I should have been, and over the last two years I had practiced a lot, and became real good at doing my makeup and hair, and even managed to acquire a small but sufficient wardrobe of my own. So, when I had the chance last weekend, I once again became Jill. I wore the short red dress with my black heels, did my hair in a pageboy, and once I was done, I made sure that I looked as good as possible before I left the house. Normally I would just go to a show, or maybe to the mall way across town, but that night, I decided, in a fit of confidence borne by lots of practice, that I looked good enough to chance hitting the mall closest to our house. I stand 5'7" with what I guess is an average build for a guy, but with a padded pantybrief, a waist nipper and breast forms, I wore a size ten with no problem, and my shoulder length hair has enough curl to it that I almost never had any trouble creating a feminine hairstyle. With my makeup as good as I could manage, the scent of perfume in the air, I left the house, and drove to the mall. As I walked across the parking lot my long legs drew a few lusty stares, and I knew that by wearing something with a high hemline, I only added to the picture I wanted everyone to see when they looked at me. I was doing fine for almost an hour, then, to my great horror, I saw them coming at me, walking right down the concourse, six abreast, two deep. Almost the entire group that ruled the school was there, and there wasn't anyplace for me to go. I drew in a very deep breath and kept right on walking, starting to swerve around them, when, just as I has passed them, I heard a voice. "Holy shit! That's Jeff!" "What!? Where?" I heard someone else say, then... "There! The girl in the red dress! That's Jeff! I'll bet on it!" Then I was surrounded by all of them. I felt like a bug under a microscope as all of them stared at me, until Jim finally agreed that it was me, Jeff, and I was wearing a dress, and, I was out in public that way, all without any really good excuse. All of the guys stood staring at me for a moment, then the barbs started. Words like Gay, Queer, Fag, and crazy populated their comments which went on relentlessly until Carol, one of the girls with them told them to shut up, took me by the arm, then pulled me away from them. "Listen Jeff, you look just great and all, but get out of here, and now! I'll walk you to your car, come on." It didn't take any thought at all. I followed her out of the mall, then to my car. On the way I didn't say anything but, "Thanks." I left the parking lot as fast as I could, heading home, my confidence shattered. I knew without any doubt that my entire future was ruined, and the minute I set foot in school I would become the object of ridicule that would last until I graduated. I had tears in my eyes when I pulled in the driveway, yet savored the sense that I had reached a safe haven, and hurriedly went in the back door, going through the kitchen, emerging in the front foyer. The moment my heel touched the hardwood floor, both of my parents walked out, standing in my path. A greater sense of wanting to flee the continuing dismay I was feeling exploded when I saw them. Dad was staring at me, slowly shaking his head while mom stood there her mouth agape, her eyes wide open. Neither of them spoke, so I tried to move past them. I wanted to lock myself in my room and stay there forever. My carefully manufactured feminine fa?ade, still intact, hid my rapidly crumbling ego. As I moved, my dad held out his arm, stopping me. "This," mom said, "is something we need to talk about, and I can't see any reason to delay. Can you?" Of course I did, and tried to say something, but I was pulled into the familyroom, and told to sit. I was perched on the edge of the couch, both of my parents across from me, no words spoken for a moment. Then... "Jeffrey," mom said, "your being dressed as a girl isn't any great shock, since we have known about it since you were quite young, and you look...very nice, and except for that mascara running down your cheeks, you make a very lovely girl. Care to tell us why you went outside the house, and have runny mascara?" The sense of security I once had lay in shambles around me. First my friends, then my parents had caught me. The humiliation I felt was so great that I could barely squeak out an answer. My hands were shaking, my eyes filled with tears, the burst of sobs I felt coming on lay in my throat, alive with the tremors only uncontrolled fear or shame can bring. Both of them sat there waiting for me to speak, waiting for me to finally, once and for all, be truthful. Using all my strength... "I....I..." Then it started. The words fell out of my face, a torrent of hate and love, dismay and joy, fear and disgust, a jumbled of emotions punctuated by tears and sobs, words that sounded like a shriek, and I was unable to stop myself once I began. All of it came out, laying there between us like a skunk so smelly and dangerous. My parents simply listened until I was left with nothing to say, no more words to defend myself, just my shame, my shame at being caught by my friends, then my parents, and lastly, myself, for not being strong enough to quit, to deny what I felt. I was a wreck. Silence reigned for a few moments, so I got up, and with nothing more said by my parents, I went to my room. Undressing, I quickly grew to hate every item, each symbol that I had used to create my feminine self, and threw them on the floor in a blurred motion of that hatred. I washed the makeup off in the shower, then felt the very center of my maleness. I hated it, and loved it all at once. I did not want to be a man, yet I was, and only the skill of a surgeon could change that. By the time I lay in my bed I was shaking again, knowing that I might as well be dead. I was dead at school anyway, and with my parents hating me, I had no reason to think anything else. I didn't sleep very well that night, and dreams of my very rapid social death kept me tossing and turning all night. I was awake but still in bed, afraid to even get up and face my parents. I heard the door open, then close. With a quick glance I saw my mother come in, walk over, then sit on my bed. "Had a bad night didn't you?" What was I going to say? That I liked being humiliated? "Jeffrey, dressing up as a girl isn't the end of the world, and as far as I know, a lot of men do it. I said that you looked very nice last night, and I meant that. But to be fair, your dress was to small, and your hairstyle was wrong for you. Would you like me to help you?" "Do what?" I said, knowing exactly what she meant. "You know perfectly well what I mean Jeffrey, how would you like to look like a girl your age and size should?" "Dad," I muttered, "he hates me now! I can't! In fact, I'm going to quit school!" "First, you're not going to quit school, and second, your father and I do not hate you!" "Mom, I..." "Your father will be home at four, and he said that he wanted to talk to you. I think he expects to see you the way you normally are, but I think that you should become the young girl we saw last night." "Mom! No!" "Oh yes. You have to face this head on, because sooner or later, or it will kill you if you don't. If you let me help you, I'm sure that we can create a beautiful young lady that we are both proud of. He needs to see you as you really want to be, and you need to be that same girl for your own peace of mind. You know that I'm right, so get out of bed and lets have some breakfast. Then I want to get some measurements before we go to the mart and find just the right outfit for you to wear when dad sees you later this afternoon. Come on, get out of there. Shake a leg!" Mom stood there and waited as I took care of business, we had a little breakfast, then it began. As much as I wanted to deny what I felt, and quit dressing as a girl, mom did not give me much choice, so I gave in to her. The minute she wrapped that tape around me, talking the whole time about different styles that she thought would look nice on me, my desire came flooding back in full force. For the very first time I would have someone to help me, and I knew in my heart that I would look better than I ever had, but I held myself in check, posing a manly posture that completely denied my desires, all while mom kept measuring me. At the mart she went straight to the lingerie shop, picked up a waist nipper and a padded pantybrief, then headed, without any words at all, into the dress shop. I stood there petrified. I was scared that if even one of the kids that had seen me the night before would see me in the dress shop, but mom blithely went on, asking me about colors, styles, and so on. It was all I could do to stand there, let alone answer her. She picked out two dresses, two skirts and two blouses, then, in shoes, a pair of flats and another pair of heels. The flats were taupe, the heels white. I waited out front while she paid the bill, then she let me drive us home. By the time I pulled in the driveway I was a total wreck. Mom had never explained very well why she thought dad would want to see me all fixed up, "right" as she put it, nor did she ever say why she was helping me, and I was dying to ask her, but I still lacked the nerve. In my bedroom she insisted that I undress and put on some panties, which I reluctantly did, then she took me to her bedroom, and began to apply makeup, and she was using my stuff! "Based on your coloring," mom said, "and since this is your foundation, I'll bet it's perfect for you. You put it on and I'll watch." I did not ask her how she knew where I kept my makeup, and with a shaky hand I began to apply the foundation, mom watching over my shoulder, not saying a word. With every dab, each stroke of my hand, I could feel that familiar feeling returning, that desire to be as pretty as I could, yet, by the time I had finished my foundation, I had quit shaking, still sure it would return. After all, that was the first time mom had ever seen me get ready. I was about to start on my eye shadow when mom handed me her powder, telling me to pat it everywhere I had used the foundation. When I was done brushing off the excess, my face was no longer shiny, and any trace of manliness not hidden by the foundation, was gone! For eye shadow, mom told me to use a soft green, and over that a sort of luminous taupe. Black eyeliner on the upper lid and a green pencil under my eyes, then mascara. Back in my bedroom... "These will give you little better shape, although I'm not sure it's enough, it's a start. Put them on then call me." The padded pantybrief was tight, but I got it on, then I sat and pulled on the pantyhose and stepped into the new flats before I called mom. After that, she wet my hair down, put in a few rollers, and watched me as I put on the bra, then slipped in my homemade breast forms. I slipped the new pale blue dress over my head, and mom zipped it up for me. All at once I could see that with the padded hips I looked better, more normal any way, for a girl that is. After she brushed out my hair, adding two small bows, one on each side and I added the blusher and lipstick, I changed to the white heels, and once again looked in the mirror. The slope that I was running on got steeper, and I quickly fell into what I called my "girl mode." I could not help myself, and since I looked better than I ever had before, it felt natural for me to swirl this way and that in front of the mirror. Mom stood to my side as I reveled in my new beauty, saying nothing until... "Now that we both understand completely just how much you want to be a girl, lets go have some coffee, and have a mother daughter talk, one that is long overdue, don't you think?" As my new shoes carried me into the kitchen, I felt more comfortable than ever before. With the hem of the dress caressing my legs as I walked, my mother just in front of me, I felt as if I really was her daughter, which was a totally new feeling for me. Mom and I each poured a coffee, then the questions started, such as did I like boys? Do I want to become a female? Why was I so ashamed? The questions went on, my answers truthful. No, I had not thought of boys in the way girls do, yes, I wanted to someday be a female, and I was ashamed because I was...afraid I guess. The guys that saw me at the mall, every one of them, were the best of the best. Good looking, smart, macho, popular guys, while I wanted to wear a dress. They ruled the school while I merely attended, and beyond that, we had little or nothing in common. But they would let the word out about me, and all of the other kids, the ones that wanted to be like them, would start in on me, just hoping to be accepted by the "in crowd." That wasn't going to happen, but I would be the one taking the brunt of their abuse. There was only one way I had any hope of recovering from this mess, but that was as far fetched as I could imagine. Instead, I could see myself in the hospital, beaten to a pulp. We had a small lunch, then mom had me try on the rest of the clothes she had bought, trying my hair several different ways, none of which I had ever tried, or could even do. In the end, I was wearing the plaid skirt and a white blouse with a thin green sweater over the blouse. The hem was a little above my knees, and the pleats made the skirt move so deliciously that I wondered why I had never bought one myself. My hair was in a pageboy, I wore small gold earrings, and I had on the taupe flats. I looked just like the girls at school. Mom suggested it first, then, when I did not say no, she helped me put on some fake nails, trimming them to a proper length, and I painted them a soft reddish brown color. When I was done, I stood in front of the mirror, and knew that the girl I saw there was the real me, except that I was still a boy in a skirt. I heard the car come in the driveway, my first instinct to run and hide, but mom put a restraining hand on my arm and held me there. An eternity passed as I waited there, waiting for my certain death. At least, I thought, I'll go out the way I wanted to be dressed, because no matter what, he could not take that away from me. I heard the footsteps, then, there he was, standing right in front of me. I stood like mom told me, my hands folded in front of me, my ankles and knees together, the very picture of a teenage girl. I smelled of perfume, which reached his nose as his eyes took me in from head to toe and back, the soft swell of my breasts making the sweater look so feminine, my nylon wrapped legs now shapely as I stood there in my own penny loafers. Nobody said a word, and I began to tremble, only mom's reassuring hand on my arm held me in place. "Your mother said that you would look nice. She was right. Sit down and tell me again why this is so important to you, and why you want to turn your back an all of the advantages men have." I sat there for a moment, then, once again, after I found my nerve, I told my dad how I felt, including the fact that I wanted to be a girl, all of the time. As far as his seeing men as having the advantages, I disagreed, and told him why. "You say men have the advantage? Why? Mom tells you what to do, and you do it, even if you don't like it. Men are the ones that have to go to war, men are the ones that feel they have to drink and fight, men might make slightly more, but women raise the family, and have the most control on the entire family, including over the men. Think about this. Some dad coaches his kid almost from birth to play football, then the kid makes the pros and wins an award. What's the very first thing out of his mouth? "Hi mom!" No dad, men don't have the best of it, they only think they do. But that's not the reason I want to be a girl, I've always felt this way, for as far back as I can remember, and have dressed up many times. Until now, I thought I was good. Apparently I wasn't." Dad didn't say anything for a moment, then.... "Well, since you feel so strongly about this, and obviously, you make an attractive girl, why don't you just keep dressing as a girl then? I mean, it is what you want isn't it? We'll even see to it that you have all of the clothes you'll need." "But school!" I muttered. "If you decide to do this, then yes, at school too I'm afraid. I know it'll be hard on all of us, and I'm certainly not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, but, after what happened at the mall the other day, how can you not realize that if you're going do this at all, this is the perfect time? I mean, if you show up as a girl, then anything they say about how you looked would have to be true, wouldn't it? All of the other kids would only have to take one look at you and decide for themselves, and you would have the chance to be the girl you say you want to be." Dad had hit it exactly on the head. It was what I had felt before. If I showed up at school dressed as a girl, no matter how many barbs came my way, or what anyone said, the others could simply look at me and make up their own mind. But, I would have to be strong enough to take all of the pokes and jabs that would surely come my way, and not only from the other students. Some of the teachers wouldn't like it, and while they wouldn't overtly do anything, they wouldn't stop anyone from harassing me. Dad and I traded looks, but I didn't say anything. "What's for dinner?" dad asked. "Or, if you like, we can go out, your choice." "Well go out," mom said, "just give us girls a bit to clean up." We did go out to dinner, and I wore the same outfit I had on when I saw dad. Sitting there with my parents, dressed as a girl, was very strange, especially since neither of them had yet asked me what name I used. I told them while we waited for our dinner to be delivered. By the time we got home dad seemed to have gotten used to seeing me dressed as a girl, and had started to call me by the name Jill. Neither of my parents asked me what I was going to do on Monday, which was just one day away, which gave me all day Sunday to decide what to do. I did not change until later that night, and in the morning, as I looked at myself in the mirror, it was like looking at a stranger. I didn't even give it a second thought as I pulled on clean panties, put on the bra, then my tan skirt with the pink blouse. A quick brush of my hair, then stepping into the flats, I went to the kitchen. Mom didn't even blink when she saw me, instead she told me to set the table for breakfast, reminding me that we had about two hours before church started. Church! I had forgot about that! While mom and I were setting out the meal... "You can wear the blue dress honey, I have a white jacket that might fit you, and with white heels will look okay. You do your own makeup and I'll help you with your hair." The minute we had finished stacking the dishes in the sink I went to my room, stripped naked, and jumped in the shower. Ten minutes later I was sitting at the small card table I had set up in my room, doing my very best makeup. Then I put on the new padded pantybrief, the waist nipper and my bra, slipped in my birdseed breast forms, then pulled the dress over my head. Mom came in just then and did my hair using a white headband to hold it away from my face. Pearl earrings with a matching choker, borrowed from mom, some perfume, and a small opal ring that mom handed me, then finally, some lipstick. There was no doubt in my mind any more. The minute I showed up in church this way, my fate would be sealed. I smiled at mom, gave her a hug, then filled the white purse with my wallet, lipstick, some tissues, and walked out of my room. Dad drove us, then, at the church, he asked me, one last time, if I was sure. He knew as well as I did that many of the kids I went to school with attended our church, so once I stepped out of the car, there would be no going back. When I nodded my head yes, he opened my door, and the three of us walked in. As it happens, the very first person to recognize me was Carol, the girl that had walked me to the car on the night I was caught at the mall. "Hi my! Hello there! I didn't expect to see you ever again!" She stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Carol." "Jill" I said, forcing a smile that quickly became natural. Carol sat with us during the mass, then later, when everyone was filing out of the church, she began to introduce me to some of the kids that had no knowledge of who I really was, and had not yet gotten the word. All of them seemed very nice to me, which was different than their usual passing right by me. I did not have to be a genius to figure out that everyone was friendly because of two things. For the boys I was a potential conquest, while the girls wanted to stay close in case their boyfriends decided I was a better girl than they were. In a way, it was funny. Mom and dad were talking to the Minister while Carol held court outside, with me silently standing there. Most of the kids left, except for Jennifer, her brother Marty, Steve, and his twin Bill. Marty had the hots for Carol, and they were dating regular, Jenny and Steve, who was a year older, were a couple, which left Bill and I standing there, unattached, and I wanted to keep it that way. I had enough problems to get through without any added complications, but Jenny invited us all over to her house later that afternoon, for a cook out of some kind. I looked at Carol, hoping that she could bail me out, but she said it sounded like fun, then Bill asked me to join him! I wasn't anxious to get involved in any way, and didn't say anything for a moment. Then Carol took me by the arm and pulled me aside. "This is the perfect chance for you to let them know what's going on Jill! Don't you see it? The minute you step into that school, you had better be dressed this way or the sharks will cream you, and that means that you'll need all the help you can get! If Steve, Marty and Bill can accept you, then they might be able to stop some of the crap that is going to come your way! You have to come this afternoon, and you have to tell them about this yourself!" "But...I never said that I was going to school dressed this way!" "Yeah, I know that, but it's true isn't it?" Her brown piercing eyes held mine in rapt attention, then..."You wouldn't be here, in church, dressed this way unless it was true! Face it honey, everyone has seen you now, and there isn't any going back now. All you can do is come to the party and tell everyone yourself. Unless you're going to hide in your house for the rest of your life that is." My mind was reeling, caught between my obvious fear of the truth and my desire to just be the girl that I knew I was. Carol had managed to find that chink in my carefully crafted shell, and exploited it. Worse, she was right on every count. I needed to have at least a few kids on my side, or my remaining days in school would be miserable to say the very least. Looking over at the kids standing there, I tried to fathom how they would react, but couldn't. My parents walked over, and before one word came out of my mouth Carol told them about the small party, and asked them if I could come. Mom and dad both looked at me, waiting for some sign I guess, then dad said it was okay with him, but it was my call. I nodded my head yes because there really wasn't any other answer, and I left with my folks while Carol went to tell the other kids I would be there. Mom understood almost immediately that I would need to have some shorts or jeans, and some tops, so the minute we got home she and I headed back to the mart where she and I bought a jean skirt, some shorts, and a pair of jeans plus several tops, one more padded pantybrief, then, on the way home, she stopped at the mall. She said that I should have some better breast forms, and we picked up a pair at the major department store. I didn't even try them on, preferring to wait until we got home. Dad was watching television as I went to my room and took off the dress. I tried on the jeans, but they were a little loose in the seat, so I removed the foam pads from both pantybrief's, and moved them around inside my panties, until I had a rounder figure and filled out the jeans right. I even put a foam pad just under my belt line, which gave me that small pouch that girls have, and made my front look more feminine. The breast forms were soft and skin colored, and as I put one in each cup of the bra, I could feel the weight of them pulling down on the straps. I pulled on one of the new tops, the rose colored one, and put on my flats. After touching up my lipstick, I found mom who gave me a different purse and an old wallet of hers. As I opened my wallet and began to move my stuff into the one mom gave me, a sense of calm settled over me. There wasn't anything else I could do to make my appearance and what I was going to say any easier. I looked as good as I ever would, there was nothing else that could save me from myself. About half an hour later I drove to Jenny's house, hoping that Carol was right. I pulled in her driveway, made one last check in the mirror, and got out, walking to the front door, nervous, as if I was facing an axe murderer. But, Marty let me in, then introduced me to his parents before we walked out to the backyard. Jenny was there of course, as was Bill. Within a few minutes the rest of them showed up. Carol did not waste any time, telling all of them that I had something very important to say, and left me standing there all alone, with all those eyes on me. I looked at each person, trying to figure out what they would do, but couldn't. "I...I...I'm not who you think I am." Just saying the words made me want to run away, but... "You all know me already, but not as a girl. My real name is Jeff..." "Jeff! No! I thought there was some resemblance, but..." "Marty," Carol said, "Jill really is Jeff, but the person you see here is the real person...isn't it Jill?" I plopped into a chair, my eyes filling with tears as I told them all about my encounter at the mall, then with my parents, and tried to tell them just how much pain I was in, and how embarrassed I was having to tell them. Nobody said a word, so I got up and headed for the door, ready to go home and end it all. Bill grabbed my arm, hard. "You're Jeff!? I thought you were cute!" "She is cute dummy," Jenny said, "you're just angry because you were attracted to her." "Was not!" he said, then he let go of my arm. Everyone else just stood there, but clearly, the greatest animosity came from Bill. "She's got a cute butt..." "Oh shut up Steven!" Jenny said as she walked over to me. "You're not leaving until we hear it all, then we're having a cook out, so sit, and let it all out girl!" Marty gave me a soda, and with all eyes on me, I began. From my earliest memories to that moment, they got it all, including my decision to attend school the next day as Jill, and the terror I was experiencing right then, even as I talked about it. "They'll tear you apart!" Steve said. "Especially the jocks and those dumb broads that hang with them! The rest, well, they will probably leave you alone, but don't count on it." "That's why I asked her to come today," Jenny said, "Carol told me the other day, and we both knew that she would have to have someone she could go to if she needed something. You guys can deflect a lot of the crap that'll be heading her way, and we girls can protect her in other ways." Looking right at me... "I know you thought Carol wouldn't tell me, but we're real close, and besides, you need all of us, and this was the ideal way to get it out." Bill, still staring at me, looked sullen, almost angry, while most everyone else was just listening. Then Jenny and Carol, one on each side of me, drew me along with them into the kitchen. The three of us made the salad, prepared the hamburgers, and got out the sodas. As we carried the tray out to the patio I saw the guys all talking together. With a nudge from Jenny, I ignored them and set out the drinks and salad. As Steve and Marty began to cook the burgers, both Jenny and Carol drifted away to be with them, leaving me all alone, Bill still staring at me. Finally I couldn't take it any more, and walked over to him. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to be here today Bill, none. I don't expect much, in fact I expected reactions like yours, but nobody knows as much as you do, so I'm confused by the way you keep staring at me. Is there anything else you would like to know about me?" His eyes locked on mine. "No," he said, "you've said enough already!" "I think," I said, "that Jenny was right. You were attracted to me, until you found out that I'm not a real girl that is. I think you're afraid! That's it! You're afraid that someone might start in on you because you were attracted to me!" "No way! I just don't like guys, that's all!" There was nothing more I could say to Bill, so I got up, grabbed a soda, and sat back at the table. Marty served the burgers and we all sat at the same table. I had nothing more to lose, no shame that I had not already felt, so I relaxed and simply enjoyed the sunny day with some friends. We talked about everything but me, which I was very glad about. Both Jenny and Carol mentioned new styles they liked, but I didn't get myself drawn into that, even though I had styles that I did like. We cleaned up, and about seven I left for home. Everyone but Bill gave me a hug when I left. That night I took a bath, shaving every square inch of my skin, using a skin lotion to make my skin softer, then laid out my clothes for the next day. Mom stuck her head in, telling me that she would go with me in the morning, just to make things easier. Easy? Not on your life. If the reaction I got from Bill was any indication, I would be dead within a week, so easy didn't matter. In the morning I was up early, shaved as close as I could, then did my makeup and got dressed. Using all of the foam pads had made me look better, so I did it again. The breast forms once again gave me the right shape, and they felt much better to me. I wore the pleated skirt with a white blouse and my flats, and mom helped me with my hair again, although I didn't need that much help. I think she just wanted to be there with me. I wore a soft red lipstick and perfume. I drove my own car with mom following. I had to sit in the car for a few moments before I could manage to drag my sorry carcass out, then, with mom beside me, we walked into the school, and the very first person to see me was the guy that gave me the most flak at the mall. His mouth dropped open as mom and I walked right past him and into the office. I was surprised at how well the Principal took the news, although he did allow that once, about four years previously, another boy had done the same thing. He made the arrangements, and I was issued a school ID in the name of Jill, I was given a note to hand to each teacher, then sent on my way to class. Most kids just assumed that I was a new student, and for the first few hours life went on as usual. I was with Jenny when it happened, we were on our way to math class. Stan, the bully I mentioned, cornered me, and began to ask me all sorts of foul questions. Bigger than I am, he had no trouble pinning me to the wall. With no options, I just let him rant, but Jenny took off on a run, returning just a few seconds later with three guys, one of them Bill. They yanked him so hard he fell on the floor, but he was up, fists balled, ready to splatter someone, probably me, when Bill got right in his face. "You're pretty good at pushing little girls around Stan, what about me? Want to try me?" Stan stood there, and I thought that he was actually going to go after Bill, but he backed off. "That ain't no girl! That's that punk Jeff in a dress! I always knew he was faggy!" "Is that right?" Bill said. "Well I know her, and as far as I'm concerned, she is a girl, which brings us back to your sorry ass. Care to try and wail on me a little Stan? I think you better put up or shut up!" By then we had drawn a crowd, and everyone had heard Stan say who I was. With a sneer, he walked away, pointing a finger at me, then Bill. I was a wreck, but I went to class, then lunch. I sat with Carol and Marty. I told them what had happened, what Bill did, and how scared I was. They reassured me that it would be okay, and we returned to classes. Nothing happened for the rest of that day, but when I came in the next morning, there was a dildo glued to the front of my locker, right at mouth level, the word Fag written all over my locker. There wasn't any doubt in my mind who did it, but I couldn't prove it. Most kids were friendly or at least weren't nasty, only a few, mostly Stan's crowd, gave me any hassle, but the word about the dildo on my locker spread quickly, and soon drew a crowd. The janitor removed it and cleaned my locker before lunch, and things got quiet again. When I walked out of the school that afternoon I had no idea what was going to happen. One of Stan's girlfriends stopped me, said she was sorry about the way Stan was acting, and just when I let my guard down, a fist hit me on the side of the head, knocking me to the ground. As I tried to get up, someone kicked me right in the groin, dropping me to the pavement in agony, yelling what a fag I was the whole time. It was Stan. Bleeding from my ears, I lay there as he and his friends laughed as they walked away. A teacher found me laying there, and called the police and the EMT's. As much as I didn't want those manlies of mine, the toe of his boot crushed them hard, even though I had them folded back out of the way. At the hospital they undressed me, discovering my secret of course, then they began to treat me. My parents showed up about ten minutes later. The doctor was very kind, and didn't even mention the way I was dressed, just explaining the damage to me and my parents. Even if I wanted to be a father, there didn't seem to be much chance of that now. With both testicles crushed beyond repair, I would never be able to make enough sperm to get anyone pregnant. I didn't want that, but it's what he said. They repaired a lacerated ear and stitched up some scalp wounds, then held me overnight to recover. As I lay there in that hospital bed I began to get angry. At myself of course, but also, at the people that would let this happen to me, and Stan, who in his ignorance and fear beat me up. The more I thought about it, the more I decided that Stan and his ilk were not going to win. I was going back to school, and I would go back as Jill! My mind became set on that, and that thought grew harder as the hours went by. Dad came to take me home the next morning, bringing a skirt and blouse for me to wear. Dad was kind enough not to say "I told you so," he was still outraged that the police would not, or could not, pick up Stan just on my say so. I spent the day in the bath, soaking my injured parts and sleeping. But the next morning, I once again got dressed for school, using plenty of makeup to hide the black and blue that was forming, the left the house over my mother's objections. I walked into the school with a limp, the bandages still in place on my scalp. My locker was once again done up, this time an old jock strap was glued to the door. I ripped it off and went to my first class, where Bill saw me. His hang dog look changed when he saw me, then I saw him grin at me. The word had spread that I had been beaten to a pulp, bad enough to be in the hospital, and everyone knew who did it. For the first time I was surrounded by girls that wanted to mother me or get the details, but it was Marty, Steven and Bill that I was so glad to see. Bill, when he spoke to me was almost in tears when he told me that he should have been there. He felt just terrible, because, he said, he had heard about a possible assault on me, and didn't do a thing. Then it happened. I saw Stan in the hallway. Our eyes locked, and he almost ran over to me. "Didn't get enough the first time? I can fix that!" He drew back to hit me in the face, but someone grabbed his arm, yanked him around, and smacked him right on the nose. I actually heard the bone break! Marty stood there panting as Stan struggled to get up, but he collapsed on the floor, and we all walked away, leaving him there to nurse his wounds. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time as Marty took my arm and led me away from the prostrate Stanley. After that day I was left alone, although the barbs never quite quit, and Bill got over his attitude problem, and finally asked me to join him when he went to church. Of course I went, it was my very first date. It was also my last date for a very long time. As the days became weeks and summer grew closer nobody ever called me anything but "Jill," and I was accepted as just another girl, even though I was never invited anywhere. Jenny and Carol became my closest friends, and taught me a lot about being a girl. The hardest for me was getting over the idea that I was a boy in a dress. They both told me that boys were there to use, and I should get used to it. But there wasn't anyone for me to practice on, so I gave up the idea. Then I met Gordon. Actually, I knew him for a long time, but from the moment I stepped into the school dressed as a girl, I had not spoken to him. One day, right out of the blue, he asked me to go to the show with him! I was a wreck by the time he came to get me. But, we had a good time, and he was the first boy to kiss me. I learned a lot that night, that I was pretty to someone besides my parents, and even through the pain, fear and suffering I went through, even the beating, it was worth it. Gordon gave me the sense that I was complete, and also, that I belonged. That date with Gordon also set in motion a round of invitations to parties, some that Jenny and Carol were at as well as Bill. I knew, or at least felt, that Bill wanted to be with me, but he was still struggling with what could be termed appearance. If he asked me out, and I was not a girl, what did that make him? That kind of thing. During the following summer I began to sprout small breasts, and I took a job as a waitress. I was very comfortable as a girl, and no longer worried about passing, and with the new growth on my chest I began to feel like a real girl, which meant that all of the humiliation I went through was past. I had conquered most of them,, and survived to become a young woman. My dad became very protective of me after I was beat up, and wanted to change my school, but all that would do was move the problem, so I refused, and held my course, making friends along the way, friends that I could count on. Bill stops by every night, right at the end of my shift, always on the pretense of having a coffee, so maybe things will improve even more pretty soon. I'll let you know. In the meantime, just to let you know, I would do it all again if I had too, but I don't recommend it.