The Lesson free porn video

The Lesson By Janet L. Stickney [email protected] Do not look where you fell, but where you slipped. ~ African Proverb It was horrible. No, it was worse than that. It was... very very bad! I looked in the mirror again to confirm what I already knew. The knee length pants were very tight, so tight that I had to wear a panty girdle to hide my parts, and the shirt? Maybe blouse, whatever, was bright white, and very frilly, almost to the extreme, and the jacket was only to the bottom of my ribs, didn't button up, and displayed that blouse to it's fullest! White knee socks with black Maryjane shoes and a wide brimmed straw hat completed the outfit, but mom had added some pale pink lipstick, "for color," she said. "This is one of your choices. You can attend school like this every day for the rest of the year, or, you can select one of your other options." She stood there staring at me for a moment, then... "you look ridiculous in that outfit, but if that's what you want...." Afraid to ask what the "other" options were, I had no choice. "I can't go to school like this! I'd get killed in a hot minute if I showed up like this!" With a sigh, I asked, "What are the other options?" "I agree that the boys would probably tease you unmercifully, and possibly hurt you if you showed up in that outfit, but if you showed up looking like a girl, possibly even a pretty girl, then they would leave you alone, except maybe to ask you out, so one of your other options is to attend school as a girl." "Whats the other option?" "Jail of course, but I'm sure that you don't want that, right?" I had no choice at al and she knew it. "A girl I guess, but... I don't look, I mean, I'd still be the laughing stock of the school!" "But safe, and that's the criteria you mentioned, so what's the problem?" "But..." "Unless you would like to go as you are?" "No way!" I said forcefully, then swallowing hard... "I'll go as a girl I guess. At the very least, if I'm lucky, nobody will bother me, depending on how I look that is!" "Okay, since you made the choice yourself, lets get you out of those clothes and into something appropriate for a girl your age." I ended up in this predicament by trashing a preschool near our house. I was flying high, and at the time, it seemed to be a fun thing to do. Unfortunately, they had video cameras that caught every single thing on tape, in full color, and there wasn't any doubt it was me. I mean, I had faced the cameras a number of times as they recorded everything. The woman that ran the place happened to be a friend of mom's, so rather than call the cops, the two of them called another friend, who actually was a cop, then arranged for me to get the shit scared out of me, by him. I was left with three choices. Go to jail, wear that awful little boy outfit, or become a girl. Some choices! Mom helped me undress, until I got to my briefs. Then she handed me a pair of panties and told me to put them on. Then came a bra and some padding, the pantybrief again, then.... "You're not going to dress me like a little girl are you? I mean, if I have to do this...." "No dear. Not a little girl. You'll be able to dress like all the other girls in your class, and you'll be able to wear anything they can wear, and I promise that you'll fit in as well as I can manage, okay?" "Yeah, I guess." "Okay, as long as you understand that you've just agreed that you want to be able to wear anything the other girls can, or would wear, right?" "Yeah, I suppose. I don't want anyone to find out, that's for sure!" "Alright then. We'll get you dressed in a plain skirt and blouse, then we'll be off." "Off? Where?" "To a place that will help you fit in better! Since you just said that you wanted to fit in with the other girls, and wear anything they would wear, and I did promise that I would arrange that didn't I? After all, we don't want you to get hurt when you go back to school, so what else can I do? Now, lets get you dressed so we can go make that happen." I let mom do her thing, and we left the house for some unknown location, where they "would help me fit in," as mom put it. I figured that I would end up with some really good boobs, and I thought that since it looked like I would be dressing as a girl, I could live with that. After that ridiculous outfit I had tried on first, boobs didn't seem so bad right about then. I stepped out in front of an old Victorian style home that had been converted into a shop. As we walked in I could smell the rubber, plastics and so on. There were boobs on shelves, some bras, and panties, and lacy stuff everywhere! "Yes? Can I help you?" "I called yesterday? My son needs some help, he wants to look like a girl?" I almost sank into the floor when she said that. "You said that you have something to help her? She has demanded that we do something for her so that she can fit in at school better, but what she really meant was that she wants to do it without detection, and I promised her that we would do all we could; it's for her own safety after all." "Of course! We can make her look completely like a girl! Come with me honey." In the course of the next six hours, I was humiliated more than I thought possible. I was measured with a laser, molds made, then had the finished product bonded to my skin, but in the end, everything about me that I had used to define myself as a male had disappeared, starting with my manhood! In it's place was what seemed to be female parts, that, when I looked in the mirror, everything looked very real to me! On my chest, a pair of very lifelike boobs hung there, like two small melons ready to be picked. When I was allowed to look in the mirror again, and I saw the new me, in all my glory for the first time, I could not say or do anything. I was in shock! In my groin, only a small strip of hair with a thin crease in the middle could be seen, while my breasts stood out proudly, a full B cup the lady had told me. I just stood there in shock, yet when I looked at mom, she looked, oddly enough, both sad, and worse, satisfied at the same time. "Go ahead and get dressed honey, we'll go home and have some lunch, and we can talk about this." It felt very strange to have weight pulling on my chest and nothing in my pants, but I got dressed, and once we got home, mom made some lunch. As we sat there eating.... "I told you that we would provide you with a way to absolutely fit in safely, and now you will, but of course you're the one that asked me to make sure of that, and I have done it, just like I said I would. Now we can be positively sure that nobody will hurt you. I mean, you look just like all the other girls, right?!" I said nothing, knowing there was more. "There is one thing though, that panty. Well, it has some built in features that will really help in convincing everyone that you're a girl." "Like what? I mean, it looks real enough to me, and I'm not even sure that's what girls look like!!" "Yes, it does, look real, doesn't it? But, you should also know that girls your age menstruate, and well, you will too." "What!!!???" "I didn't tell you before, because I wanted to do it in private. It's such a personal thing we girls have to go through, that I just thought it would be easier telling you here at home, just you and I. The lady that made the panty told me that you have provisions inside the panty, each one timed to break at roughly one month intervals, which is about as long as that glue holds. When the glue breaks down we'll go back and have the panty reloaded and refitted. Now, before you go ballistic, think about it. Anyone that has a period is what?" "A girl," I said sourly. "Right! And just like I promised, you can wear anything any other girl can wear! You can even go naked in the girls shower without detection! So... tell me. How is anyone going to know that you're a boy?" "They won't I guess, it's just that I don't know anything about being a girl! Mom! Do I have to do this? I mean it's so... and I feel like a sissy!" "You're not a sissy! You're a young lady now, and it's not like this total transition is going to happen tomorrow! It would be like throwing a rabbit at a starving wolf! No dear, you have almost two months to learn how to act like a girl, and even after that you can keep learning! Just watch what the other girls do!" Mom paused, then said... "You must know that I did not want this for you, but you did trash that place, causing a lot of damage? There had to be some kind of punishment, right? Since I did not want you to have a police record, and after that policeman talked to Mrs. Smith, this seemed like the best alternative, and besides, it was all I could get Mrs. Smith to agree to; that, and having you helping her during the day. Maybe it'll be good for you to learn about children, and this way you'll be able to pay back for the damages you caused." I said nothing because there wasn't anything I could say! Mom was madder than I had ever seen her when she found out what I had done, and I knew that her choices for punishing me were very limited, which is why she managed to adroitly have me make the decision myself, the one where I ended up looking like a girl. I myself had been the one to insist that I fit in. I alone was the one that told her that I wouldn't wear that silly outfit I started in, and since I really didn't want to go to jail, that left me as the one to select my punishment, albeit from three very bad choices. I went to my room, undressed, and took a very close look at myself, using my fingers to discover what lay below. Never having felt a girl there before, I had no way to judge, but it seemed to me that my new parts were exactly like a real girls would be, in every way. Even with very close scrutiny, I could just not see the seams around the panty, and around the breasts, well, it was impossible to find them! But when I thought about having to use a tampon, it hit me. If I could shove a tampon up there, then a guy could shove his thing in there too! I almost choked at the thought of that! I might have to look and dress like a girl, but I knew that dating a guy was out, let alone ever doing that! I put the panties back on, taking another long look before I put anything else on. Then I discovered that if I looked closely enough, I could see my.... twatsie through the thin panties! The bra held my breasts firmly in place, with just a hint of cleavage no less, yet they would bounce when I walked. I tossed the bra on the bed and yanked a tee out of the dresser, slipped it over my head, then got out a pair of shorts and pulled them on. Both the shorts and tee were from before, yet they barely looked it. The shorts were tight on my butt and hips, loose at the waist, and my boobs, well, they just bounced. I put my gym shoes back on and went to get a soda, but mom stopped me halfway. "I think you should get used to wearing a bra honey." "Yeah, okay. I'll go put one on." "Before you do, have you thought about a name?" "Name?" "A girls name silly. You don't want everyone to call you Greg do you?" "I don't know! If I had been a girl what would you have named me?" "Emily. Emily Janet after your two grandmothers." "I don't like this mom, I hate in fact! But I'm stuck with it, Right? I guess, I might as well use that name, it's as good as any, and better than some of those cutesy names some of the girls have." "Okay, I'll see about getting you some documents that have that name on them. How about you and I go shopping tomorrow? You need more panties and bras for sure, and maybe we'll see about a few skirts and tops as well as some shoes." Again, there was nothing I could say, no way to get out of what was happening to me, short of going to jail, and I really didn't want that, which meant that I would be dressing as a girl for an indeterminate length of time, all based on whatever Mrs. Smith decided. I did know that I had to work at the preschool for a minimum of six months, the cop told me that; and I had to wear a skirt and top, or blouse, at all times when working there. No slacks, unless it was freezing outside, and I had to present myself "properly", whatever that meant. I put on a bra, still struggling with the fastener in the back, then stayed in my room, going online to find out what I could about becoming a girl. I was overwhelmed by the number of web sites that catered to boys dressing as girls! While most of them were worthless, some were just porn, and only a few had some helpful tips on becoming more feminine. As I read through them, most sounded like something a mother would tell you, but a few, like how to walk, and talk seemed helpful. As much as I did not want to do it, I really did not want everyone to think that I was a boy in a skirt, that would be worse than just telling everyone, so I read everything very carefully, including the part about using my hands and arms, and how to check to see how girls acted. The advice was simple really, just go the mall, find a place to sit, and watch! Since mom had said that we were going there anyway, I thought I would try it, just to see for myself, but when I mentioned it to mom, she told me that we had a lot to do, and just sitting wasn't an option; we didn't have the time. "You can watch the girls while we walk around honey, but don't stare. Girls don't stare at other girls!" I was scared to death as we walked into the mall, but mom was on a mission, and after a bit of looking, the very first thing mom bought were bras, followed by panties, the ones that were cut a bit high on the sides. Then she picked up some skirts and tops, followed by what she called cargo shorts. Then she told me to change into one of the skirts she bought. "Those are clearly boys shorts you have on, and besides, I want you to get used to wearing a skirt." And that was the end of that. There wasn't any discussion. Just her telling me to do it. I did not want to dress as a girl, I never had done it before, and felt like the Ugly Duckling, so I was shocked as hell when nobody seemed to look at me strangely. I was positive that I would be picked out of the crowd, as if I were wearing a neon orange suit, but nobody bothered to even look! Mom insisted, so I had my ears pierced, bought some jewelry, bought makeup and hair care items, like big brushes and a set of rollers, one pair of girls skinny jeans, and some shoes. By the time we left the mall I was convinced that I had enough stuff for three girls, but mom merely laughed! "Three? Oh my! Honey, you barely have enough for you! You'll need more skirts, blouses, tops and dresses for sure, plus lots more jewelry and so on! You're just beginning!" "This is costing you a lot of money! Why are you doing this to me? I didn't want to go to jail, but I could have worked it off other ways! I don't want to be a girl!" "I know you don't honey, and I did not want this either, but Mrs. Smith was not only very angry, she was very adamant that you learn a serious lesson! I don't believe that she was anxious for you to be around her kids as yourself, what with all of the attention the police give preschools, and as yourself, a teenage boy, you would draw a lot of attention; my guess is that's why she insisted that you dress as a girl. So you could be around the kids and she wouldn't have to worry about you, especially wearing that panty you have on. There is no way that you could... hurt one of the children. She and I both don't believe you would, but the parents might, and that's all that counts. There is also the matter of the law suit she could bring against us for the damage you caused." Mom took my hand. "Honey, unless you do this, you'll go to jail and end up with a record that will follow you for the rest of your life, and on top of that, we would probably get sued, and possibly lose everything! That's why you're about to become a young lady, in every way that she and I can manage! As for you, you'll just have to learn how to be a girl in every way that you can manage, then become as feminine as you can. Okay?" I was listening to mom, and knew that she was right. I simply did not have a choice. Once we got home and I put away all of the stuff we had bought, I undressed and stood looking in the mirror. Unless I said something, I doubted that anyone would know. I had what appeared to be the body of a girl, age 16, with brown hair... in all the places girls have hair. "Collars and cuffs to match," to paraphrase James Bond. I got dressed again, then began to straighten up my room. Since I would have to get rid of clothes to make room for the dresses and such, I started packing the clothes into bins we had in the basement. With each addition to the storage bin, I lost a bit of the old me, and began to wonder if I could pull it off. I had about ten weeks before school started, which was all the time I had to learn how to be a girl well enough to manage to fool everyone. Just about the only thing I had for safety was the fact that I could undress in front of the other girls and get away with it. That alone would be proof, yet I could not be sure. The only thing I knew for sure was that in the morning, I had to make my first appearance at the preschool, dressed like a girl my age, and be prepared to help mind the kids. I had a restless night as I awaited my debut. The next morning I went in the bath, still not used to having to sit, and in my stupor, let go, wetting my foot a little before I quickly stopped and sat down. Not the best way to start my day. After a shower, I went in my room and began to get dressed. The new panties were thin, high cut, and snug, revealing more than I had realized. The bra was next, then pantyhose followed by a sad but valiant attempt at makeup, a skirt, and a simple light blue top. I tried to brush out my hair but failed, and had to have mom show me how to do it, and fix my makeup as well. I looked in the mirror, saddened by the sight that I saw. I was a boy, and did not want to dress as a girl, yet I had no choice. With a sigh, and after she was done, I grabbed the purse and joined mom for the short drive to the preschool. I was about to face the lady that put me in dresses, and I just knew that she would laugh at my pitiful attempt to look like a girl. Mrs. Smith is a tall woman with brown hair going gray, small glasses and a round face. As soon as she saw me she got a silly smirk on her face. Not of disgust, but one of victory. "Oh my! You look just darling!" "Mrs. Smith, this is Emily." "What a nice name!" "I want to tell you," mom said seriously, "up front, that while we agreed to do this, I won't tolerate any attempt to embarrass her in any way. This is very hard for Emily, and she is doing her best, and I fully expect that you will treat her in a respectful manner." "Embarrass her? Heavens no! I'm not the one she has to worry about! It's the children! They'll pick up anything that isn't normal, and they'll say almost anything, to anyone! No dear, I won't embarrass you; if that happens, it will be the children that do it. Now, let me introduce you." There were about twenty kids, ranging in ages from two to five, more girls than boys. They were told my name, and to refer to me as Miss Emily. My first assignment was to read to them. They sat in a circle around me and I began to read. I sat on the floor, my legs under me so I was almost at their level. Then it was play time and all I had to do was break up the inevitable fight. By the time the day was over I was exhausted from the strain of trying to be the perfect teenage girl. Not one of the kids even hinted that there was anything different about me. "You did very well today Emily, I'm impressed!" "Thanks." "I know that you think I'm being cruel honey, but I really did not want to send you to jail and ruin your entire life because of one stupid event! I needed the help anyway, and it had to be a girl, so this idea came to me when I saw a bit on television about boys that wanted to become girls!" "Yeah, but I don't..." "Want to be a girl? I'll bet that all you can think about is how your friends treat girls, right?" "Yeah, I guess, so...?" "And they are the same friends that got you hung around with, the ones that do this sort of thing for fun? Doesn't that tell you something about them?" "Yeah. They aren't wearing dresses!" "But several of them got arrested for a robbery didn't they? They are going to jail honey, and you can guess what's in store for them, right? They are in jail and you're in a dress. Which is better do you think? Freedom, or the jail?" She already knew the answer, so I merely nodded my head. She was right on every count. Wearing a dress, no matter what I thought or believed, was much better than being in jail. She took me home as arranged, and I ran in the house as soon as we got there. Running into my room, I slammed the door, fell on the bed, and began sobbing. The plain truth is that I had done it to myself, even agreeing to wear a dress and insisting that I look like a girl. I hated the idea that I was going to be a girl, the idea that all of my running buddies would think that I was a... well, you fill in the blank. A year. A whole year as a girl! I considered killing myself rather than go through with it, but I just couldn't do that either. My macho bravado evaporated when I saw myself naked, as a girl, for the first time, and I realized that I alone was responsible for my predicament. Sweaty from the exertion of self hatred, I undressed and went in the shower. As the hot water poured over me and I soaped up, every contour of my body felt strange; roundness where there used to be angles. A nothingness instead of something. I cupped my breasts, holding them softly, yet with an unwanted awe at how real they felt. My hips and bottom, both bigger and rounder were okay, just different. It was that other thing. That narrow groove below my waist that my hand explored. It was the true definition of a woman, that part of her that men coveted, women always protected, and was the portal for birth, the ultimate process that defines a female. It was mine, yet I felt no allegiance to it. No feeling of protectiveness, or warmth in the knowledge that I might actually let a man use it someday. No. I was merely carrying it around with me, a symbol of femininity that would, hopefully, protect me for the next year. After that, it would be gone. As I was drying off, I wondered yet again if I would survive this tragedy. Clean panties, a bra, some shorts and a tee were all I had on when mom got home. The minute I saw her I started to cry once again. She held me tightly in her arms, whispering in my ear that it would be alright. She was a girl, and just didn't understand how I felt! She couldn't! When I managed to stop blubbering like a baby... "Mom! This is terrible! I can't do it! I can't!" "Mrs. Smith said the kids just loved you! That you were just wonderful with them!" "It's not that, it's this," I said, cupping my breasts, and.... my...kitty!" "Let's sit over here Emily." Once I was sitting down... "Nobody said that this was going to be easy, or even fun, but it can be, and will be, if you only let yourself accept the facts! The only difference between boys and girls, apart from their anatomy, is that girls don't usually get into trouble the way boys do! We like the same things, we eat the same foods, we like the same colors, sports teams and so on! Other than the clothes we wear, there is very few differences! I can remember when you liked to be around children; before you started hanging around with that bunch of fools you call friends. You were polite, had good grades, and always dressed very nice! Then you started staying out late, got mouthy, and talked back, all the things that got you into this mess! You tried to be a macho he-man, thinking that by trashing a place you would gain stature with your friends; but that didn't work, did it?" I sat there hanging my head because she was right. "You can't possibly believe that I wanted this for you; I don't, but I know that unless you accept this change, everyone will find out, and you'll be in serious danger! Those boys you like to hang out with? At best, those boys that didn't go to jail for that robbery? They'll beat you until you can't stand up if they find out, and you know it! That means the only chance you have is to find a way to become more like a girl your age, or let me call that policeman and take your chances in jail! This is very serious, and you must understand that, right?" "Yeah, but...." "But you think that by wearing a dress you are somehow less of a person?" "Yeah, I guess...." "Well you're not! That's the point! You're the same person you were before! You just have a different... body! What's inside is the same! What you like is the same!" Taking me by the hands... "Honey, I know this is hard on you; I understand, really, I do, but you really have to find a way to accept what is happening. Can you do that?" "Yeah, I guess... I don't have a choice, do I?" "Yes honey, you do! It's this, or jail!" "That's no choice!" "I know, but we are both stuck, aren't we? I mean, this is hard on me too! I mean, I'm used to having my son around, now I have a daughter, and she needs almost everything!" "Yeah," I said sourly, "like Tampons! Me! Needing a Tampon? How stupid is that!?" "Well, girls your age need them honey, and it does help to confirm that you are a female, which might just save you someday! That's why I insisted on the very best panty I could find! As much as you might not like it, the simple act of being able to have a period might prove to be very useful!" I sat back in the chair, the enormity of my situation finally settling in. At every step of the way it was on me, from trashing the school, to making the choice of becoming a girl, even insisting that I look "believable". I had nobody to blame but myself. Mom was right about the guys, they wouldn't have the slightest hesitation at taking me out, as in killing me, if they found out, which left me in a precarious position. I simply had to become the girl I looked like, especially by the time school started in the fall! All of the skirts and dresses mom bought for me were on the short side, because, in her words, "they will help you adjust". What she really meant was that I would have to learn to keep my knees together, not bend over at the waist like before but at the knees, and walk in a more feminine way. I wasn't so stupid that I couldn't figure out why it all happened, or why mom bought those clothes so short, and I knew that I had no choice but to get good enough doing certain things, like makeup and hair. That's why I set out my clothes for the next day, and once again sat down to practice doing makeup. I had used foundation and a bit of powder that day, but wondered just how hard it would be to use eye shadow, or eyeliner. That's what I was practicing. For the most part it looked okay. Not perfect, but okay. By the time I went to bed I had calmed down a bit, knowing that my fate was definitely in my own hands. I wore the checkered green and white pleated skirt with a plain white pullover top and white flats, simple gold hoop earrings, and gold bracelet. With my purse in hand, mom drove me to the school. Mrs. Smith was there, and greeted me warmly, then asked me to gather the kids as the mothers dropped them off! I had not met any of the parents the day before, so I was a bit antsy about standing there at the door. But, most of kids just ran inside, ignoring me, and their mothers! A few mothers stayed to make sure the kids were okay, a few asked me my name, but most did not. Rounding up twenty fresh faced kids with nothing but energy is a chore in itself, but I found out that by sitting on the floor with a book usually got the kids to settle down. After a fashion I managed not to embarrass myself; I was always extra careful because kids will pick up on the slightest thing, then say it out loud, or tell someone else, like their mother! The very last thing I needed was for some irate mother to come storming in, accusing me of being a boy. I could, and would, if the need arose, show off my new parts if that happened, but I simply didn't need that kind of hassle! The upshot of that whole scenario is that I became more feminine in my actions. The way I walked, talked, moved, used my hands, that sort of thing. Which meant that against every instinct, I was slowly becoming a girl. All I could do was accept that it was happening and I was doing it all in the name of self preservation. About three weeks after it all began, I had my first period. Call that experience ugly. It was messy because I wasn't prepared, and simply awful when I had to insert that tampon. Mom helped me with that experience, blas? in her manner as she very clinically told me how to use one. No laughing, no "I told you so", nothing but information. With my hair getting longer, mom eventually suggested that I visit the salon to "get it done". "You have worked very hard on this honey, and your hair is now long enough for a nice cut! Maybe we'll get your nails done at the same time? How about it? You can stop wearing your hair in a ponytail..." "I guess, but no perm!" "Your hair is curly enough already Emily. No perm. Just a cut and style, okay?" Well, I got my hair trimmed and styled, in a shoulder length bob as the lady told me. Nothing outlandish, just a nice haircut. But, she did suggest that I let her dye it to bring out the natural auburn in my hair, and after thinking about it, and with nothing else to lose, I agreed. After all, a disguise is best if it's complete, right? My nails were filed and sanded, with acrylic extensions added, then painted a sort of soft reddish brown. I looked less like me than ever before, which was both good, and bad. Good that nobody would recognize me, and bad that I was beginning to sort of like it... in an objective way of course. The nails made my fingers seem longer, the red color tending to draw my eye until I got used to it. Of course, I hated it. I hated the fact that I was even there, hated the fact that I was in a dress, and hated that nobody saw me as a male anymore. But the plain fact remained that I could not deny that I looked better than just okay. Not so much pretty or cute, but maybe a tad better than average. I hated that. My old buddies stopped by once, and I was the one to answer the door. Expecting a tirade when they saw me, I was ready to defend myself the best I could, but all I got was a leering grin. "Is ahhh... Greg here?" "No, he's gone." "He coming back?" "Eventually." "What's your name honey? I'm Stan." "I heard about you. You're the one that got Greg sent away!" "He was stupid. Getting caught like that!" "Stupid?" "Yeah. But he's a putz anyway; we sort of expected it." "How can you say that about a friend?!" "Friend? He wasn't my friend! He was the guy we used when we didn't want to get caught! Like I said, he's a putz! "Bye. I have to go now." "Hey! What's your name?" "Bye now," I said forcefully, then shut the door. As soon that door shut my knees started shaking. I had no idea that I had been used, or that Stan thought I was a simple fool! I almost cried when the revelation that I was in this situation because I had allowed myself to be not only used like that, but the fact that they expected me to get caught! Mom had warned me that's what they were doing, but in my ignorance, and a desperate desire to be a part of their group, I had allowed myself to be duped, and I had been! I was angry with them, but mostly with myself for being so stupid! I had been manipulated and used, then punished, and forgotten for almost six weeks, until they had some other antic for me to do! I was so angry I could have killed them! It was at that exact moment that I resolved to forget about them and concentrate on being a girl! No more whining about what I used to be, no more fighting with myself about my predicament, and no more wanting to be a hero to my so called friends. Over time, and with no distractions, I became more fluid in my movements, and I began to talk in that breathless manner so many girls use. I also started reading some of the teen magazines so that I would know what was in, and what wasn't. A girl is supposed to know those kinds of things, so I made an effort to find out. Wearing a skirt or dress every day became so natural that I no longer worried about it. Doing my own makeup and hair had become routine, even a drudge at times. My mother never commented on my new attitude, but I could tell that she was both shocked and surprised at my total lack of fight. About three weeks before school was to start mom told me what the plan was. "I cannot bring myself to subject you to the scrutiny of you old friends, or those boys Emily, so I have enrolled you in a different school. That way you'll just be another girl, and you won't have the baggage of fear that someone will realize who you really are. You can start fresh, without that." "What school?" "Northern. It's still in the district, and you can transfer without a lot of fuss." "But all my records say that I'm a boy!" "Not any more. I had to legally change your name." "What?! Mom! You promised me that you wouldn't do anything without telling me first!" "Yes, well, this is a bit different isn't it? I mean You would not want to start school as Gregory would you? That might tend to give you away, right? Mrs. Martin, Madeline? You know her, she lives around the block? She's on the school board and is the one that made it possible for us to change your records, but you had to have the name change first!" "Mrs. Martin knows? About me?" "I had to tell her honey, it was the only way! But she swore that she'll keep it to herself!" "I'm done for!" "Oh, I doubt that. And besides, those boys will not be attending there, and you can start new!" "So... I'm legally a girl?" "Only in name, but for now, that's enough to keep you safe." So, there I was, not only dressing like a girl, mom had changed my name! I just hated it when her logic trumped my wishes, but in my heart, I knew she was right. Starting school, looking the way I did, with a name like Greg, would not be the smartest thing I could do. It ranked right up there with trashing the school, which got me here in the first place! Two days later mom showed up at the pre-school, and asked to take me for a while. I had no idea what was up. It turned out that she was getting my drivers license changed! The woman blinked a bit, but without hesitation issued me a new license, with my new name, new picture, and the F box checked off! That meant that according to the state, I was a female! From there she took me to a car dealership, and we bought a car, for me! "Northern is too far for me to drive you every day Emily. I bought you the car, but I'll expect you to take care of it, and drive very carefully!" I was enrolled in school as a female, but got out of the gym classes because I had already taken the required hours. Assuming something about someone can be awkward. I had assumed girls were all sweetness and light. Wrong! The girls could be very vicious, especially if they thought that you were after their guy, or one they had picked out! Since I wasn't the least bit interested in boys, I managed to stay out of that kind of mess. I simply went to school and kept a low profile. I made a few friends, mostly girls like me, the ones that were shy and a bit reserved. Sharon, who is my closest friend, showed me just how easy it was to get a guy to do what you wanted. She didn't tell me, I just saw her do it a few times. That's when I got the idea. I decided that I was going to set up the old gang, and they were going to take a big fall. As I went through things in my mind, I knew that I could not make even one mistake. After school I sauntered into the pizza place they hung out at, and sashayed across the room, finding a table rather than a booth. I had worn a very short skirt to entice them, and it worked. Stan started towards me. "Hi there! Remember me?" Hi! Yes! I remember you! You came looking for Greg, right?" "Right! Say, where is he? I haven't seen him around." "Oh, he's away right now, he'll be back in...oh, maybe three years." "He got that long! Well, how about you and I getting together some time?" "Maybe, how do I know that I can trust you to be a gentleman?" "But I'm always a gentleman around beautiful girls!" "I'll bet! Listen," I said as I sipped on my soda, "I have to get to work. Bye!" "Where do you work?" "At that pre-school Greg trashed, why?" "Let me take you there." "I have my own car, thanks. I have to go count the days receipts. I do that every day." "So.... you take care of the money!" "Why, shouldn't I?" "No reason, just surprised, that's all." I left, knowing that the temptation would be irresistible. Stan and his thugs would try to break in and take the money from little old me, a poor helpless girl! I went directly to Mrs. Smith, told her what was going to happen, and she alerted the police. Immediately after the kids were gone, she left, leaving me the only one there, except for the cop in the back room closet. A single kick on the wall would bring him running. I was there all alone for maybe an hour when Chris, Stan's right hand man nudged the door open. The only light on was the one in the office, and I just sat there fiddling with some papers. I heard the soft footsteps, then the figures of Chris and Stan appeared in the doorway. "Hi there," Stan said, "We're here for the money." "What money?" I asked as sweetly as I could. "The money you told me about bitch!" "Bitch? That's not a very nice way to talk!" "Give me the money or..." "Or what?" "Or this," he said as he showed me a gun. I did not know that he had a gun, ever! But he could easily kill me, and might just do it, and that wasn't in my plan at all! I kicked the wall, hard, and that cop came running. Stan turned to face him, the gun pointed directly at the officer, who already had his gun out. Stan, being only marginally stupid, was still smart enough to know that if he shot a cop he could get the death penalty, so he dropped his pistol on the floor, and the two of them were arrested on the spot. Revenge never tastes as sweet as you might want it to, but I was elated when the two of them were charged with armed robbery, then they took a deal; because of that, I did not have to testify, and possibly be exposed as a male in a dress. I did know by then that any hope of returning to my old self was going to be virtually impossible. Everything about me had changed, starting with my mannerisms. If nothing else, they would be hard to shake. I had grown used to being a girl, having boobs and all, and I no longer hated it. I lived with it, and simply accepted the fact that I had somehow become a girl. I did not say anything to my mother, yet when the time came to change and recharge the panty with the blood packets, she knew that in my mind, I had made the leap from male to female. I had the chance to return to my old self, but instead, willingly let the panty be removed, recharged, and refitted. "I think we should see a doctor," mom said on the way home, "after all, you do want your own boobs, right?" "Yeah; I might as well!" "Alright, I'll check on that." Once you live with something long enough it becomes normal. Like brown or green eyes, or maybe red hair or blond. For me, living with boobs, having periods and living as a girl became the norm rather than an event, and after working so hard to master it, I knew that I could not be a boy ever again. That's why I started the procedure to become a girl for real. My transition was so slow that nobody guessed, not even my boyfriend; but then again, he never got as far as he wanted. My future is bright, I have lots of friends, and best of all, I simply don't even think of what might have been.