The Wrong Class free porn video

The Wrong Class Janet L. Stickney [email protected] When school started I was a fresh faced Sophomore, still fighting my insecurities, acne, and growing pains, freedom was in sight, but not attainable just yet. The school was huge, compared to what I was familiar with, yet like so many other kids, I managed to find my way around, getting lost only a few times. Because of the large number of students, and before we even left the middle school, we were issued a sign up sheet and the applications for high school clubs, like the band, Drama and so on. We all got one, and while most kids just tossed it, I wanted to be involved, so I read the entire list, checked off a couple of squares, Drama was at the top of my list, then the computer club. I thought that at the very least, I was good at computers, and thought it would be neat to be in a club with other kids that were also good at it. I handed it in at the office, and went about my business, convinced that I was on the way up in the society defined by teenage anxiety and dreams. My name is Kevin. At the time I started high school, I was 14, 5'4," tall and weighed 115. I'm the only child of an upper middle class family. Mom is an attorney while dad owns his own business. I never gave the form I had filled out another thought, assuming that we would find out if we were accepted the week following the start of school, which is exactly what happened. I was accepted into the Drama club, but when I saw that I had been accepted into the Ballet and Dance troupe, I almost had a fit! When I went to see why I was put in the club, I was shown my application, and saw that I had clearly marked it! The Computer club was on the next line down! I complained of course, but every one of those clubs counted towards my credit hours, and once enrolled, because it affected my credit hours, they wouldn't change it until the following year! I told them I would refuse to participate, and they told me that if I did, I would have to do the entire year over again, since the school sponsored clubs offer credit hours towards graduation. Check, and Mate. I was stuck! My next stop was to see the teacher in charge of the dance troupe. The minute I saw her I was in love. Deborah Watson was her name, a tall, very well built woman with dark hair and big brown eyes. She exuded femininity, and drove my teenage testosterone level out of sight. Of course, the class was virtually all girls, excepting only myself, and Gary. Gary had always been a little...funny, even in grade school. He wore a lot of pastel colored clothes, and minced around most of the time, so I wasn't surprised to see him there. Of course, almost every one of the girls had taken years of Ballet classes. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Gary fit right in. Ms. Watson knew right away that I didn't want to be there, but we both knew that we were stuck with each other, so she made it as easy on me as possible. Dad thought it was funny, and mom said it was sweet when they found out. Me? I went to class, did what she told me, only focusing on getting out of the class as soon as possible with as few guys knowing about it as I could manage. The one good thing about the class was that all the girls wore those next to nothing leotards, which at first, meant that I would always be there to see them. Then it happened. Ms. Watson told Gary and I that we would also have to wear the same leotards and tights as the girls did. She said it was a matter of form, or some crock like that. She insisted, Gary and I protested, but in the end, I had no choice. It was like the end of the world for me. I could just imagine what the guys would say if they saw me wearing the same uniform as the girls! Mom, the minute I told her, dragged me to a dance shop where, to my great horror and undying shame, was fitted with an outfit that looked exactly like the girls, with one small addition. The lady at the store also sold us something she called a gaff. She said it would give me a smooth front and protect me as well. Almost the minute we got home, mom wanted me to try everything on, so I went to my room alone, stripped, then struggled with the gaff until I figured out how it worked, and found out the woman was right. I pulled on the tights, then the leotard and stood to look in the mirror. I went into shock. I had a smooth front, and other than having no breasts, between the gaff and that outfit, I looked like a girl! I let my hair out of the ponytail I usually kept it in, shook my head, and let my hair touch my shoulders. At first glance, if you didn't look closely, it was terrible. I did look like a girl! Then mom came in with the new shoes for me to put on. She never said a word about the way I looked, but as soon as I had the shoes on, she motioned for me to stand up. As I stood up I felt myself taller than I had been, due to the heel on the shoe. Two inches high with a square toe, they looked a bit like a loafer with a high heel. Mom said they made my legs look spectacular, and dammit! She was right! The way mom was looking at me, I was certain she was going to ask me to wear makeup, but didn't, so I didn't have to say no. I started to change when she said it was almost dinner time, and asked me to wait. When I looked down at myself, she motioned for me to wait, left, only to return with a skirt! "Seeing," mom said, "as how you're so self conscious about being so smooth in the front, put this on. It will hide that, and since you're not going out, who'll know?" "Mooom! That's a skirt! Do I have to wear it!?" "No, of course not, but it will hide that smooth front, and besides, you'll look just adorable. Go ahead," she said, "put it on." Well, to my great shame, and against my better judgement, I did put the skirt on. I only did it for mom, but of course, it only enhanced the way it made me look like a girl. Talk about being self conscious! Then I saw that wistful look on mom's face. I knew that she had always wanted a daughter, and here I was, almost the real thing. It gave me the creeps, the way she looked at me I mean. Mom and I went down to dinner, which is when dad saw me. "You make a lovely girl Kevin! Better than I would have imagined!" "Don't pick on her dear, this is all new, and she'll need time to adjust." Her? She'll? Well aware of how I looked wearing that outfit, and being severely self conscious about it, mom caught the look on my face and said that it didn't matter, then told me I still had to help with dinner dishes. When I was done, I went to my room and changed as fast as I could. On Monday I had to take the new leotard to class, then change into it. When I opened the bag, right on top was the skirt. Because of the situation, I used Ms. Watson's office to change. I put everything but the skirt on, and still embarrassed as all get out, went back into the classroom. Gary was standing there, still in his regular clothes, arguing with Ms. Watson. "Listen!" Gary said, "I'm Gay, but not crazy! I'm not into dressing as a girl, and I am not wearing this stuff. Fail me if you have to, but I'm out of here!" "As you wish, there's the door." Gary stormed out of the class, leaving me alone, standing there with all those girls! No matter how hard I tried to hide it, even the girls could see that the only visible difference between us was my lack of boobs! Ms. Watson didn't say a word, and had us begin with simple steps which weren't very hard, and surprisingly, I caught on quickly. The girls seemed to be very concerned about my staying in step with them, and often took my hand to help me keep in step. Since the door was fogged over, none of the other students could see me dressed in that outfit, and after class, rather than change in the boys restroom, I once again used Ms. Watson's office to change. Every day was the same, and by the end of the week I was a little more used to wearing that stupid outfit, although I still felt more than a little shame when the girls saw me in it, but they never said a word about my looking so much like them. Then, on Monday when we got to class, she had all of us sit, then she told us what our performance schedule was. "Now, I want everyone to know that this schedule was made out during the summer, by the school board, before you all applied." She was looking straight at me. "Many of you are also members of the Drama club, which works out, because we are going to do the play Can-Can this year, and as the dance class, we will be doing all of the dance scenes. The costumes are quite dramatic, and since this class is so small, all of you will have to take one of the roles." She looked at me again. "That includes you I'm afraid Kevin. Now then, if you know your dress sizes, let me know, other wise I have to know tomorrow so that they can be ordered in time to be fitted properly. If your parents have any questions, here is my phone number." Then she ran a short film, and we were able to see the style of costumes. They were all low cut dresses, heavy on the petticoats, foofoo trim, short in front, and all the dancers wore some kind of high heel! I was shocked of course, especially after she made it clear that all of us would be wearing one, including me! "But...I can't wear one of those!" I said, hoping Ms. Watson would relent. "And why not?" Melanie asked, "You make it sound like we want to wear one! Well, we don't like it either!" "Yeah...but, you're a girl!" I said, hoping for some sympathy. "Who's going to know you're not? Besides, just look at you! All you need is a little padding and we would all look alike right now! Tell me I'm wrong Kevin!" Sadly, she was right, and I sank back to the chair. "On top of that, you volunteered for this class, so you can't let us down!" "Girls! Settle down here." Ms. Watson looked at me, and I saw that she had sad eyes. "There is more I'm afraid. The Can-Can is a very feminine dance, but, on top of that, we will require all of the dancers to participate in the play itself, which means that not only do you have to look feminine, you will also have to be able to act feminine. Now, before you up and quit on us Kevin, I have made it clear to the Principal and the staff that because of an error in admissions, and the credits attached to this class, you simply don't have a good choice." "What?" I asked, waiting for the bad news. "I'll talk to you alone, in my office Kevin." She let the other girls go change while she pointed at her office. Once inside, she told me, After a very long discussion with the senior staff, we feel that in order for you to "get into," the role, that you should start dressing as a girl all the time." "What!" I said. "I would be killed out there! The jocks and rocks would tear me apart! No way!" "We thought of that Kevin. I brought this up to the Principal and the rest of the senior staff myself, who then took it to the school board. Quite frankly, they never anticipated having a male student in the class, but since you are here, they have agreed to make it seem as if you are a new transfer student, and directed the Principal to make that happen. That way, nobody but us girls would know the truth, and just looking at this practically, you are almost the same physical size as most of the other girls, you already have the long hair, and you have already started the class. If you start at the beginning of next week, it will seem as if you are the transfer student you'll need to be." She paused, waiting for me. "I'll call your mother tonight and set it up." We went back into the classroom were all of the girls were waiting, all changed into their regular clothes. "Because of the situation, which was beyond Kevin's control, and due to the needs of the school, certain suggestions have been made. Starting on Monday we will have a new girl in class." Every eye centered on me as Ms. Watson looked around the room. "I know that all of you have figured out by now that the new girl will be Kevin, so I am warning all of you right now. If one word of this gets out, I will find out which one of you spilled the beans, and you will fail this class, no questions asked, and you will be the one doing the entire year over. Am I very clear on this?" One by one all of the girls nodded their heads yes. "Good. Then we can expect a new girl in this class on Monday, and I fully expect you girls to help her get over her initial shyness. Any questions?" Nobody said a word. I walked out of the classroom stunned at what had happened to me! In just a few days, and less than two weeks after school started, I was supposed to appear, in school, dressed as a girl! I wandered through the rest of my classes in a daze, wondering just how I was going to manage to just stay alive after I showed up in a dress, and of course, tried to figure a way that I would not have to become a girl! By the time I got home I had worked myself into a frenzied state of denial, and had decided to quit school. Of course, that didn't happen. I was to young, and too scared to quit. Mom was waiting for me when I walked in the house. "Ms. Watson called and explained everything to me honey. I know just how you feel about this, so I'm not going to force you to do it, but before you say no, can we get you all fixed up? Just once? If you don't look good enough, then that will be the end of it. But if you look okay, then maybe you should consider it. It seems that the school went to a lot of trouble so you could attend as a girl, and it would be a shame not to at least try it honey. It might even be fun!" There was no way I could say no to mom, and she knew it, but... "What if I look like a complete dork?" "Then I will call Ms. Watson and tell her that we, your father and I, not you, have decided not to let you do this. She will have no choice but to accept our word on the matter, and you probably cannot be penalized for not participating. But, if you look good as a girl, then I think that you should go ahead with it." "But what about after the play? I mean, how can I just return as a boy? Someone would figure that out pretty quickly!" "I don't know honey. Lets just play it by ear for now. Since I already know what size you wear, why don't you and I do a little shopping tonight? We can get you one or two outfits, just enough for you to make through the weekend. I'll even help you do your nails, makeup, and hair." The biggest part of myself was screaming for me to put my foot down and say there was absolutely no way would I do this, yet another, much smaller part, was reminding me that I would never be a jock, couldn't be accepted as a rock, and would never be much more than just another bland face in the crowd kind of student. My natural reluctance to dress as a girl, while really quite strong, did nothing to make it easy for me to agree to this. I truly didn't want to do it, but I also did not want to do the entire school year over again either. The only salvation in all this was that as a girl, I would have at least seven other girls as friends, (my dance classmates), and I would have unrestricted access to the girls bathrooms, locker rooms, and so on. As soon as the visions of half naked girls began to crawl across my mind, and while I didn't realize it, I was grinning, and found myself slowly nodding my head yes. Mom didn't say anything, but she smiled, grabbed her purse, and out we went...shopping for girls clothes...for me! Mom knew exactly what to do, where to go and so on, while I just tagged along, trying to be inconspicuous. I was never more embarrassed, especially when mom picked out a bra, (34A) panties, ( a package of three), a slip, then held them up and asked me what I thought of them! Red faced, I said nothing, hoping we could just leave, but she said no, and added a pair of small, inexpensive, flesh colored breast forms to the pile before she added a gel filled padded pantybrief and paid the bill. My relief when we left the lingerie section was short lived when, in the dress department, I watched as she selected one dress, then a skirt and blouse set. After that came pantyhose and a pair of plain taupe flats and pair of black shoes with a low heel. I never asked any questions, but I knew that when we got home, mom would insist that I try on the clothes. I wondered how I would look, just knowing it was going to be bad. It happened, just as I thought it would. The minute we got home, mom took me to my room, and had me undress, until I was naked, then told me to put the gaff on. Once that was done, she handed me the panties, waited until I had them on, then gave me the pantybrief before she showed me how to put the bra on, and slipped the two breast forms into the cups. Then came the pantyhose, the shoes, and finally, that dress. As mom zipped it up and I saw my reflection in the mirror I knew that there was no way I could deny how I looked. Before I could say a word, mom took me into her bedroom, sat me at her vanity, and added a little foundation, powder, and lipstick, then brushed out my hair, adding one of those headbands to hold my hair back, and clipped on a pair of earrings. Swallowing hard, I stared at myself, hoping that what I saw wasn't the truth, but a big lie reflected by an evil mirror. I could see with my own eyes that I was no more or less bigger, or smaller, than the girls in my class, with about the same build. My legs stuck out from under that dress, making me feel half dressed, and the twin mounds of my breasts pushed out against the dress, about the same size as most girls my age, but the biggest shock was how easily mom had managed to make my face look so...feminine! Mom didn't say a word, just letting me stare at my reflection in the mirror. As I turned to look at her, I had a lump in my throat, because it felt as if nature had made it easy to steal my manhood. If all it took was for me to change clothes to look this way, how much of a boy was I? I looked at myself again, a feeling of great sadness coming over me. On one hand, I felt that I had lost something in the great lottery of masculinity, yet, on the other, I had this strange feeling creeping over me, one that told me that if I looked this good, with as little effort as mom used, then, maybe, or most likely probably, I could easily attend school as a girl! But there were so many questions peppering my mind, like just how long would this last? As na?ve as I was, I could still see the problems at once. Once I started dressing as a girl, and attending school, there was no way I could just disappear, reappear as a girl, disappear again, and reappear as a boy! Kids aren't that stupid! But once mom and I saw how I turned out, the die was cast, and sadly, we both knew it. "What do we call you?" "Huh?" I said, forgetting that there probably aren't any girls named Kevin. "What I mean," mom said, "is that we need to find a girls name for you. Do you have any ideas?" "No..." "Maybe you should think about it." Mom stood beside me as we both looked in the mirror. "You know, if you had been born a girl, we were going to name you Katherine. Would you like to use that name?" "I guess, but mom! Just look at me! I'm not a...I mean...look at me!" "Yes dear, I know. But I wasn't quite as surprised as you think, and I know that might sound a bit cruel, but you know perfectly well that we didn't do very much, did we? Just a bit of padding, a dress, a touch of makeup, a headband, and this is how you turned out. On top of that, and no matter how much you might want to deny it, you are really quite cute! Now then. Let's quit moaning about it, and go fix dinner. Your father will be home soon, and he will want to see his new daughter." At first, just walking in that dress felt so weird, but after a bit, if I kept busy, I just about forgot about it. I helped mom make dinner, set the table and so on, and with every move, each time I bent over, I was aware of the fact that I looked like a girl. The biggest test would be when dad got home, which wasn't going to be long, so mom stayed close by me while we waited. We heard the door open, saw dad walk in, then he stopped cold when he saw me. "Mary! Who is this beautiful little girl, and why is she in our house?" "Honey, this is Katherine...your daughter." "I see! So! This is what my daughter looks like!" Dad didn't sound like he was angry, although I still felt the pangs of embarrassment biting me when he saw me dressed that way. We had dinner, then, because I still had one more day of school, I went to my room and undressed. When I was down to the bra and panties, I looked in the mirror. I didn't exactly have the perfect feminine shape, yet there was no doubt, even with as little as I had on, I still looked almost like a girl! That small part of me that thought of seeing naked girls in the restrooms began to leave me almost as quickly as they arrived, because I realized that I would look just like them! I washed my face, changed into my pajama's, and went to bed. As I lay there, I thought about the way I looked, remembered how the clothes felt, then how easily mom had changed me from boy to girl. As I thought about it, I never once considered how, or even if, the guys would react around me. As a girl I mean. But I did realize that on Monday morning, I would start school as a new student named Kathy, and for some very strange reason, I felt that I could do it, if I tried hard. The next day at class, I didn't mention anything about getting all dressed up the night before, not even to Ms. Watson. Several girls wanted to ask me, which I knew by the way they looked at me, but I decided to keep silent. Anything could happen in two whole days, like the school burning down, and I might not have to do it, so why tell anyone? Nobody mentioned it, and I finished the day, supposedly my last day as a boy, because I knew that once I started school as a girl, I would not be able to change back until the start of the following school year. Mom had told me the same thing at breakfast, but I had figured out that much all on my own, so I told her I would do it as long as I could return to being a boy as soon as possible, and she agreed. When I got home, mom was gone, so I went to my room to play on the computer. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and saw that I had new drapes and bedspread to match, my furniture had been moved around, and there was a brand new vanity in my room! Worse, the color was a sort of pinky purple with little white flowers on all over, the trim sort of lacy looking! Just when I was about to leave, mom showed up. "I changed your room a little." "Yeah, I see that. Why?" "I just thought that by changing your room a little that you would feel a bit more comfortable, and of course, every girl has a vanity, so I had one delivered this morning." I stood there, looking at mom, knowing that my days as a boy had just ended. "I also bought you a few more things and put them in your closet and dresser." Mom paused, then..."You should learn how to dress yourself, so I'll leave you to change. Just do your best, and call me when you're done." "Now?" "You might as well get used to it...Kathy." Mom left me alone to face my future alone. I opened the closet door, and saw an explosion of new colors. Red and pink, blue and green, black and white, gray and mauve. In my dresser were two new bras, more panties, pantyhose, slips, and more, none of which a boy should wear. As the filmy material slipped through my fingers and my eyes took in all the new clothes in the closet, it was as if my mind collapsed. I just gave in to the inevitable. As I undressed my eyes were locked on the open door of the closet, fixating on something pink. When I was naked, instead of using the gaff, I decided to skip it and simply slipped on a pair of panties, sort of hid myself, then grabbed one of the bras and fussed with it a bit before I got it on. The breast forms once again filled the cups followed by the pantybrief, and I was ready to sit and pull on the pantyhose when my eye caught a glimpse of what looked like a chunk of foam wrapped in satin. Picking it out of the drawer, I could see that it was another padded pantybrief of a sort, but had oval pads sewn in. What it was for was instantly obvious. I pulled the pantyhose over everything, and saw that my legs once again seemed to take on a new shape. I took a look in the mirror and saw that it was true. I did look like a girl! The flash of pink that I saw was a dress. I grabbed it, slipped it over my head, then struggled with the zipper up the back for a moment, then I figured out the trick to it. At the vanity I pulled the same headband into my hair, then tried my hand at makeup. Just a bit of foundation, then some pale red lipstick. It seemed like the farther I went, the more I looked like a girl, yet I wasn't even sure that I was doing things right! I found some white shoes in the closet, about as high as my dance shoes, but the heel was a lot thinner. My feet went into them and I stood up, walking to the mirror so I could see my reflection. It was terrible! There wasn't one sign of the real me! The girl that I was looking at was cute, at least I thought so, with long legs, a modest shape, and a pretty face! The dress had a hemline that was well above my knees, swelling over my new hips to taper at what seemed to be a smaller waistline, then flowing up and over the twin mounds to end with a round neckline. I stood there for a long time before I grabbed up the clip on earrings, fastened them to my earlobes. Then I saw it. The perfume. I took it, smelled it, not bad I thought, like wild flowers. With no thought at all, I put some on my wrists. As I stood there looking at myself, I first felt unbounding shame, then, sort of an elation. There was no doubt in my mind that I could look like a girl, the big question was, could I attend school as a girl, and get away with it? Looks no longer had anything to do with it, that much was certain. Walking in those low heels wasn't hard at all, but when I turned, walked to the door and opened it, then took my first step outside of my room, I heard the familiar click of the heel on the hardwood floor. I recognized the sound from mom's shoes. Step after step I walked down the hallway, made my way down the stairs, then into the kitchen. Mom wasn't there, so I looked in the familyroom, and once again she wasn't there. I heard some voices, and without even the slightest thought, opened the front door. There stood mom, talking to Ms. Watson. "Kathy! There you are! Come out here and say hi to Ms. Watson!" That's when it hit me. Habit had let me open the front door, just like always, but this time I was wearing a dress. Mom held out her hand as I meekly stepped outside, then stood close beside her. "Kathy!" Ms. Watson said, "You're beautiful! Turn around so I can see." I did as she asked, but stayed close to mom. "If your mother had not told me, honestly, I would not have known who you were!" I said nothing because I was embarrassed half to death. But, it was nice to hear from someone other than my mother that I looked nice enough. Then mom told me that we had a few things to do, we said goodbye to Ms. Watson, and went back in the house. "Your father is taking us out to dinner tonight honey. What you have on is just fine, but lets just touch up your makeup a little, and maybe try something else with your hair." Like I had a choice. As it turned out, mom did not change much. She removed the headband, then used a pair of barrettes, one on each side to hold my hair back, then brushed out some bangs and used scissors to trim them. Watching in the mirror I saw her, step by step, make me look even more like a girl. She showed me how to use eye shadow, just a bit of blue with some light gray over that. The hard part was when she showed me, on her own eye, how to apply eyeliner. Shaky at first, I managed to do each eye without hurting myself or making a huge blob on my eye, then she added some blusher to each cheek. She had me remove the earrings, then handed me some others. They were small pearls surrounded by a gold band. I clipped one to each lobe while she fastened the matching choker necklace around my neck. Finally, she had me touch up my lipstick. When I looked in the tall mirror, I gulped hard. The way she had done my hair accented the shape of my face while the bangs merely finished the look. My makeup, while not that much different, made me look a little bit older, and certainly confirmed what I already knew. Mom went to change, leaving me to simply stare at myself. One thing after another, from the moment I found out about my having to dress as a girl, to that minute, had driven me to think about the way everyone so easily accepted me as a girl. Sure, I knew that mom had always wanted a girl, but she had never once suggested that I dress as a girl. Yet I could see it in her face. Her expressions, the way she changed my bedroom so quickly, the way she talked to me, all told me that she wanted me to do this. Yet she had also told me that I could say no at any time before Monday, and she would back me up. Then there was Ms. Watson. She obviously knew about the plays we were going to do, yet she waited an entire week to tell us, especially me, that the play required an all girl chorus line. Why? Then of course, there were the other girls in my class. Everyone of them said they would keep the secret, yet I knew just how hard that would be in a high school, which gave me an out...if I took it. As I stared at my reflection, something sort of came over me, about being a girl I mean. I would never admit this to anyone, but I liked the way I looked. Long legs, an average figure, a cute face, the taste of the lipstick, the smell of the makeup, the way my eyes looked, plus the way the dress felt against my skin, all came together at one time. That's when I discovered that I didn't think I would mind being a girl at all. As soon as that thought came to me, I sort of stood up straighter, smiled at myself, flicked my hair with a shake of my head, grabbed my white purse, and walked out of the room, down the stairs, into the familyroom, then sat down to wait. Mom walked in, looking smashing as always. She wore a black sheath dress with a modest hemline, a round neck and short sleeves. Her hair was done in a fashion similar to mine, and she also wore pearls. Mom sat next to me, and didn't say a word. Dad came home about ten minutes later, took a quick look at us, then headed for the shower. Well, dad's reaction when he saw me was sort of mixed. His eyes went wide, he gave me a quick smile, then his eyes went dark for a moment. But he was pleasant, and I ignored that dark look as he escorted mom and I to dinner. He did say that he was more than a little surprised at the way I looked though, plus, he said that he didn't think it would take so little effort to make me over into a girl, then he added, that he also thought that I was a pretty girl. Given that he was my father, I was sure he was just being polite. What else could he say? That I was ugly? Maybe he could have I guess, but while even I didn't think I was ugly, I certainly wasn't what you would call pretty. Going into the restaurant was a bit scary, but mom held my arm, and as we walked in, nobody even bothered to look at me! That gave me some confidence, but I wished that dad looked a bit more...supportive. While we waited for our order to be delivered, mom asked dad what he really thought, because like me, he could say no. By the way he looked at me I was sure that he was going to say I had to quit, but instead, he said that he always wondered what it would be like to have a daughter! Then he said it was entirely up to me. I looked mom, then back at dad. "I'm going to do it," I said, "the girls in my class are counting on me, and I guess I look okay." "Are you sure?" dad asked. "We all know that once you start this, you simply cannot quit when this play is done, the confusion at school would be terrible, what with all the questions, and at home, well, we'll be spending a lot of money on this..." "I know dad. I'm doing it." Nobody said a thing. Dinner was fine, then mom took me to the ladies room. On the way... "In the morning you and I are going to the salon and get your hair styled a bit better. Touch up your lipstick." By the time we left, dad had started smiling again, which made me feel a little better. At home we all watched the tube for a while, then I went to my room to change for bed. As I lay there in bed I could still smell the perfume I had used, provoking the memory of how I looked, the image in my mind, clear and sharp. But more than anything, I knew that I wanted to look just as much like a girl as I could, because rather than hating it, I realized that I liked it! Visions of me in school, my skirt swirling around my legs, the way my blouse pulled over my breasts, and the idea that maybe, given my size, I would be better off as a girl, all combined as one, and I drifted off the sleep with a smile on my face. In the morning I once again tried my hand at makeup, did a little better, but just let my hair hang and swirl around my face. I liked that. Then I got dressed. I wore a plain gray skirt with a white blouse and my flats. Mom said I looked fine. We ate, then she and I left for her salon. I had no idea what they would do, but mom assured me that it would only be a cut and style, nothing crazy, like a perm. Well, I didn't get a perm, but my hair was dyed a lighter shade of blonde, and more of a curl set in. When the girl was done with me, I sat and waited as she worked on mom. Flipping through the pile of magazines, I saw a picture of a girl my age with her nails painted a glossy pink color, and wondered if I could do that some day. As I stared at that picture, another woman came over, said she was going to do my nails, then took me by the hand to a small table. I still had the magazine, so I asked her to do my nails the same as in the picture. By the time we left the salon, I had a new hair color, a more feminine haircut, my nails had been filed, sanded and painted the color I wanted, my ears had been pierced, and my eyebrows thinned out, shaped in what the woman said was a better arch! Looking in the mirror made me feel great about the way I looked. It was also at that moment that I fully realized that I really liked looking this way! Not like before, when I just liked it, now I loved it! I decided not to tell mom, but I think she already knew anyway. Mom look great, just like always. From the salon we had lunch, then she suggested that we hit the mall again, just to widen my wardrobe out a little more, and get me some makeup of my own. With my new confidence, I eagerly agreed, and we were on our way shopping. This time mom let me pick out what I wanted, but also urged me to buy some jeans and slacks, not just skirts and dresses with blouses. She also helped me pick out some tops and another three pair of shoes. We trudged everything to the car, went back in, and looked at the directory to find the nearest makeup shop. As we walked into the makeup shop I absorbed all the smells, most new to me. We found someone to help us, and I quickly found myself in a chair, being made over by a pro. I watched her in the mirror as she worked, but it did not take her long to drastically change the way I looked. She said that mom's makeup was to dark for me, and the colors were all wrong. Then she began to redo my makeup. With each item she used I paid close attention to how she did it, then. Almost to fast for me, she was done, but the results were fantastic! I looked completely different than before, with my face the same color as always, blusher that enhanced rather than drew the eye, subtle eye shadow and a lighter eyeliner. She did my lips in the same shade of pink as my nails. I looked at mom who merely smiled, then told the woman to make up a complete set of everything she used on me. From there, we went to a real jewelry store where mom bought me a small ring that had a real opal on top. She and I then went to a costume jewelry shop where I bought lots of earrings, necklaces, barrettes, headbands, and bracelets. On the way out, mom said that it was obvious that I liked being a girl, then asked me if I wanted to do it right. "What do you mean, right? Don't I look okay?" "Of course you look fine Kathy, but seeing as how you'll have to dress this way every day, there will certainly be situations where not having your boobs fall out in your hand might be better. I was wondering if we should look for some breast forms that we can somehow attach to your chest. Why don't we try it?" Having boobs that would not bounce on the floor at a bad time would be a definite improvement, and I quickly said yes. Then mom went to find a telephone book. She returned a few minutes later, and we once again stored our stuff in the trunk before she drove us across town. I followed mom inside the shop, met a lady named Janet, then found myself naked to the waist as she fitted me with a pair of very realistic boobs that once they were attached, could not be told from the real deal. No seam could be seen, and better, she told us they would stay on for at least two months at a time, plus, they would warm up to body temperature! Then she said, in sort of an offhand way, that after a few days, if someone were to touch them, I would be able to feel it. She said it was the glue she used. Mom paid the bill while I got dressed again, this time struggling to get the bra on over my unfamiliar breasts. On the way out of the store, I could feel them bouncing a bit with each step. I loved the way they felt. Mom and I carried everything to my room, then I decided to change into a pair of jeans and a plain pink top. As I pulled the jeans on I felt the snug way they fit, and after I zipped them up, I saw the way they fit over my bottom, and of course, they gave me a very feminine front. I pulled on the top then stepped into my new gym shoes and went down the stairs. Mom wasn't around, so I went outside. I knew that nobody would recognize me, so I decided to take the chance and went in the garage, took moms bike, and started down the street. I saw Bill, a year younger than I am and a total pain in the butt. Mr. Keller was out washing his car, then Jill, who is two years older than I am and is a real knock out. I turned the corner, went to the next block, and started to follow the street back to my house. About half way I saw another rider coming, then saw that it was Steven, a friend of mine. He gave me a real good once over as he passed by, then turned around and caught up with me. I looked right at him and saw that silly lopsided grin he has. I smiled back, but kept right on pedaling. He followed me, right up until I went up our driveway. He knew where I lived, but that was before. Instead of following me, he stopped in the street and watched me park the bike and go in the house. I told mom what happened, and all she did was tell me that I would have to find a way to cope! But she also said that I could tell everyone that I was a niece if I wanted to. That sounded hokey to me, and decided not to even bring it up unless someone else did. What I would say if someone, maybe Steven, asked who I was and where I came from was still lost to me. Dad was home, and told me that he liked the way my hair and makeup looked, and he seemed a lot happier. Mom and I did not tell him about the new breast forms. On Sunday morning I wore the dark blue dress with the white polka dots to church. My parents introduced me as Kathy, but never mentioned our relationship. Once I got home I changed into the same jeans and top. I was ready to take another bike ride when Melanie was dropped off in front of our house by her mother! "Hi! I saw you at church this morning, and when I asked, mom said I could come over." Melanie looked me over from head to toe. "I just knew that you would be cute, but wow!" "Thanks Melanie. The name is Kathy by the way." We went in the house, and asked if we could use both bikes to go riding, and dad said okay. Melanie also wore jeans and a top like me. We both took a bike, I rode mom's while she rode dad's. As we cruised the neighborhood, I saw Steven again, but he was with his cousin Frank. Melanie and I just went right on by, but... "That Frank sure is a hunk Kathy!" "Frank? He's a doofus!" I found out more about Melanie in that one ride than ever before, and I also got a clear view of the way girls looked at boys. I thought Frank was a pain while she thought he was God's gift. Melanie and I stayed out for quite a while before we went back to my house. Mom made us all a light dinner, then dad took Melanie home. She had promised to not say a word about who I was, and I said that I would see her in the morning. For my first day at school, I wore a navy skirt with a white blouse and a sweater over my shoulders, held together at my neck by a small clasp. The Principal did not say a word about how I was dressed, or looked. He merely handed me all the forms he had ready for me to fill out, and within a few minutes I was sent to my first class, a brand new ID badge, complete with picture in my purse. Due to the shootings at some high schools, every student was required to have an ID badge with them at all times, or be expelled from the school. Now I had one that had my new name on it, plus the picture taken before I left the Principals office. I walked into the classroom under the eyes of 30 other kids, most of whom knew me as a boy. I could only hope they did not recognize me, and none did. After two classes, I quit worrying about being discovered. But when I went into my dance class, four of the girls openly gasped when they saw me. All of them had been in one or another of my classes, and they never did realize who I was. The best came when I had to change into my dance outfit. Instead of hiding in Ms. Watson's office, I followed the others into the ladies room, and changed there, complete with the small dance skirt. I just know they wanted to find out how I did it, but I kept silent. The class was, for the first time, enjoyable, since I was just one of the girls, and not a boy in a dance funky outfit. The days went by quickly. The girls in my class all swore to me that they would keep the secret, and so far, all of them had kept their word. But like all of the kids, I soon found myself sucked into the vortex created by nature. The boys were starting to notice the girls, which now included me, and like the other girls, I had to endure the boys taunts, bra snapping, teasing and so on, just like they did. I never realized that snapping a bra strap would smart so much! I also didn't realize that the boys were doing that to get our attention! Steven snapped my bra, for the second time, and without thinking, I spun around and smacked him. That night mom told me the boys were trying to get our attention, and since Steven had done me twice, it was obvious that he was attracted to me. That wasn't what I wanted to hear! I liked being a girl, but I had no interest in boys! All of the girls, even those not in my dance class, accepted me into their ranks as an equal, and without realizing it, I soon found myself talking about the latest makeup, hairstyles, fashions, and so on, just like they did! I couldn't help myself. About a month after my first day in school, Kelly was having a pajama party, and I got invited! While I no longer hungered to see naked girls so much, but at a pajama party there was a distinct possibility that would happen, which is when hit me. I would have to get at least partially naked, just to get my pajama's on! I mentioned it to mom, after I accepted Kelly's invitation. When I told her, it was like she went spastic on me! "Kathy! You have no idea what goes on at a pajama party! Just how did you plan on hiding...yourself?" I shrugged, then... "I don't need that gaff very often mom, my...I stay in place pretty good, and I look..." "All it would take is one mistake Kathy!" mom paused, then... "We'll have do something, and quickly! Since you'll be a girl for a long time, I suppose we'll have to do something a little better than just tucking, but just what I don't know. I'll call the doctor, maybe he can help us." I could hear mom talking to the doctor, but I expected to wait a few days to see him, so you can imagine my surprise when mom told me we were leaving. Within an hour I found myself in an examining room with mom and the doctor, on my back, my feet up in what he called stirrups. I never felt a thing, but half an hour later he helped me stand up, and for the first time, I saw what he had done. Even spreading my legs, there was no sign of my manhood! There was a thin slit surrounded by hair! "Your body will function fine Kathy, but you no longer have the option of standing. Like all women, you'll have to sit from now on." "Big deal," I said, "I have to do that now, except at home I mean." "You also," he added, "have to take care of yourself differently, but your mother can tell you about that." Then he put his hand in my groin and pushed hard while asking me if it hurt. I felt no pain, so he let me get dressed. After I got dressed and started to walk out, the absence of body parts made me feel so different, and it even changed the way I walked. As I sat down in the car my knees fell together easily, something I always had to work at before, which is when it hit me. In almost every respect I was a girl, and had no reason to worry about someone "discovering my secret," because there wasn't a secret any more! I sat back as mom drove us home, content in the knowledge that no matter who thought what, I could prove I was a girl. I also knew just when I was going to remove any and all doubt. At Kelly's pajama party. All I would have to do is change, with one or more girls in the room. All mom said on the way home was that she and I would have a talk. I figured it would be about sex, but why tell me? I couldn't have sex! I just looked like I could! Well, the minute we got home, mom took me to her bedroom, and she went into great detail about cleanliness, and how important is was for a girl. It sounded bad to me, but mom just laughed and told me that all I had to do was forget, and when the infection hit, I would never forget again. Just touching myself there felt strange. Another wave of femininity came over me as I let my finger trace the slit, then when my finger slid in a little it was as if I had a whole new awareness of myself. No longer a freak scared of being discovered, but a girl from top to bottom. I got dressed again and helped mom with dinner. That's when she told me that there was no reason for me to tell dad, she would do it when the time was right. Things turned out just like I expected when Melanie, on of my classmates was in the bath with me when I changed. I slipped my panties down to change them, and I know she saw me, but she didn't say anything. The pajama party was nothing more than a raucous party that covered all of the things you girls think about. Boys. I had nothing to contribute since I had never thought about boys like they did. That's when Jill mentioned that her friend Roy told Ken, who told his sister who told her, that Steven had a crush on me! There was nothing I could say, but I took a lot of teasing about it. It turned out that she was right. We practiced on those dances, and I got used to wearing one of those fluffy dresses and having my boobs bouncing up and down. The word must have spread within the dance class because everybody quit watching me so closely, while at the same time, I began to figure out, just like the other girls, how to attract, or repel, advances from the boys. Flirting seemed to come easy to girls, and while I always said that I had no interest in boys, I found myself watching, as many of the kids began the torturous journey of dating and becoming couples. Six of the girls in my dance class had boyfriends and Melanie was working hard on Jimmy. That left me, and I was beginning to feel left out. As much as I wanted to deny it, being a girl had changed me in ways that I never expected. When I found myself not wanting to be left out, I started to look at the boys in a different light. Compared to the girls, the boys were geeky, awkward and mostly shy. That meant that like Melanie, I would have to become more...feminine, or risk spending my years in high school labeled a wall flower, or worse. Because Steven had been showing me so much attention, I made the decision to go after him. It was hard for me to be coy, or flirt around him, but within a few days, he asked to walk me home. Because he lived so close to me, and had known me as a boy for a long time, I was worried that he might ask me why I lived in the same house, but the word must have reached him that I really was a girl. He never mentioned it. Steven walked me home every day for over a week before he finally worked up the nerve to ask me out. Stammering and clearly nervous, he asked me to go to the show with him that Friday night. Also very nervous, I nodded my head yes, and before I knew it, he was running down the hallway in school whooping like an idiot! Me? I was merely stunned! I had accepted a date! But my nerves quickly calmed down, because I was elated. I had done it! No longer just a boy in a dress, I had become a girl that a boy liked enough to ask out! I had discovered that just wearing a dress, or how you look does not make you a girl, it's how you act, react, and interact with people. Being a girl is not a lifestyle, it's a way of life, and now, it was my life. I had accepted that and as a girl I loved my new life, and never wanted to be a boy again. By the time I got home I didn't know whether to laugh or cry! In the confusion of tangled emotions running through me, knowing that I had accepted a date, I wondered, what did that make me? Part of me was elated that Steven thought I was attractive, and I wanted to please him, on the other hand...doubts kept nagging at me, fighting what I knew I wanted, against all those years of being a boy. When mom got home I told her about it, drifting into tears as I tried to untangle all the emotions running amok inside of me. I guess I expected a shocked look from mom, instead, she told me that she was happy for me! "I'm so glad for you Kathy, now you'll have someone to take you to the dances, parties and so on!" "But I'm not..." "Yes honey, you are, and you know it. We all know it. It's been two months since the doctor helped you look more normal, and whether you know it or not, you've adopted the mannerisms of all the girls your age. You talk like them, act like a them, you've had your hair and nails done...twice, you use makeup better than I do for goodness sake, and you have a wide circle of friends that only know you as a girl named Kathy. You wear short skirts and tight tops like the other girls, giggle and laugh like a girl, you now call your father daddy, playing him like a violin by the way, and you had your ears pierced. On top of all that, we know that deep inside of yourself you know that there is no way that you'll ever be a boy again, because you don't want to. Right?" I looked at mom, and wondered how she knew. She was right. I liked everything about being a girl. As part of the dance class I had tried hard to be like them in every way. I didn't want to stick out, so I started to become a girl in every way. I don't think I was even aware of it at the time, but in order to fit in, I also joined some of the girls doing aerobics after school, and had even dared to take showers with them. As much as I thought that I would be excited to see naked girls, I no longer cared, because I wanted to be one of them, and I looked like a normal, average, teenage girl, even naked. After a rocky start, dad had started to treat me like a girl about a month ago, and since then he has become very protective of me. It was nice, but I wasn't used to so much concern from him. Then, like a lot of girls my age, I had experimented with makeup, different styles of clothes, and so on, slowly adopting their mannerisms along the way. Mom and I traded looks. Then I broke out in a smile and ran to my room. I didn't want to tell her she was right. I told dad about my date with Steven, which is when he imposed my first curfew. Dad insisted that he meet Steven when he picked me up, then I left with Steven. Both of us were nervous all evening, yet when he and I stood on my front porch, he did not hesitate to pull me closer and kiss me, right on the lips. I stood there and let him kiss me, tasting him, smelling him, until he broke away, and I quickly went inside. I leaned against the door panting for a moment before I went to my room to go to bed. I lay there experiencing every moment of my first date over and over, and ended up smiling to myself. The play went on for an extra month because there was so much demand for it. Four shows during the week, two on the weekends. Ms. Watson did tell me that a Board member had asked her to point out the boy that was dressing as a girl. She also told me that she had told him, that all of her students were girls, and refused to say more. He did not need to know she said. Steven started walking me home after every performance, which is when he started holding my hand. I didn't mind a bit. By the time the show had run its course, Steven and I were "going steady," as they say, and everyone knew us as a couple. He and were no longer quite as shy with each other, and had swapped spit a few times, making both of us half crazy, but that was all. As the school year went on everyone found their place in the school hierarchy, including me. I had landed safely on the A list, along with Steven who sat on the student governing board. Status is important to teenagers, and as a couple, we had it. As the school year dwindled down to the last few weeks, we once again had to sign that same form. This time I was very careful when I filled it out, checking the box marked Ballet/Dance, as well as Cheerleader. Well, why not? It was during the first week after school let out that dad asked to talk to me. "We have talked to the doctor and explained things to him Kathy. But I want to hear you say it. You are never going to be a boy again, are you?" I didn't even think about it. "Heck no! Not now, not when I have everything I ever wanted!" Dad also didn't hesitate. "We have arranged for you to start on hormone replacement therapy Kathy. We were told that you would develop your own breasts, have wider, natural hips, a narrow waist, and all of your body hair would fall off. The texture of your skin might even change. By the time you become of age, you will have developed just like all of your friends, and you can have the surgery to complete the transition and become a woman. Your mother will take you. Your first visit is in the morning." Dad was like that. Decisive. He stated the obvious, asked me, just to make sure, then pronounced the verdict. I could hardly contain myself when he told me that I would be just like every other girl in our school, and looked forward to seeing the doctor. I did start the shots and pills, and all that summer, while I worked in dad's office, I began to blossom. Only mom knew, and we kept that to ourselves. By the time school started again in the fall, I had developed to a full A cup, while my hips had filled out enough to quit using the hip padding. That fall I let Steven's hand wander into my sweater and touch me. At that moment, I knew that my decision had been the right one. I did make it on as a cheerleader while Steven became the class President, which catapulted both of us to the top of the schools list of most popular students. Nobody ever talked about my beginning, but after so many girls had seen me naked, there was no longer any question that I was a girl in every way. I stayed in dance class until the next year when I started as a senior and joined co-op so I could work at dad's office. Ms. Watson found a new boyfriend herself, and became Mrs. Benson over the summer, Melanie messed up and got pregnant, and I had my first sexual encounter with Steven. It was an eventful year, but I looked forward to graduating, turning 18, and becoming the complete woman I wanted to be. You could say that all the turmoil I went through made me tougher, but what I really learned is that nature finds a way to allow you to become what you should be. A plumber, a lawyer, a factory worker, or even a woman, we all somehow find our way to the truth that suits us best. The emotional conflicts I went through at every step of the way only made it possible for me to understand each one better, and use them to my advantage. Like now. I'm in love, and Steven is on his way over, so I'll have to let him know how I feel about him...