As a boy, my favourite dream at night was of a film musical, with me on-stage as the man
attired as a cute little girl, and dressed exactly in the same sissy clothes as my pretty female partner. But in reality I wanted to be more than just that, playing at being a showgirl. My true boyhood desire was to grow up to be a female ballerina, despite all the embarrassment and teasing I would receive, as well as the physical and mental difficulties of such a wish, but at least I would give it my best shot!
Author's note: This story was written in the 1980's, way before 'Billy
Elliot' saw the light of day!
1.'Billy Liar'
"Bye bye Billy!" Melissa called cheerily as she closed the front door
behind her and trotted down the path to join father in the car for her five
mile trip to school. Meanwhile, I was staggering down the stairs still half
asleep after my early morning foray into the garden while everyone else was
still in bed. I could see mum out in the garden collecting the still damp
washing off the line as I went into the kitchen to fix breakfast, but the
sound of the letter box rattling as the mail dropped on the door mat had me
scurrying to retreive the 'Gamba' package addressed to 'Miss Darcey
Fielding' which I had been desperately waiting for all week. "Was that the
postman Billy?" she called, so I promptly stuffed my prize down the front of
my trousers. "Yes Mum, but it just looks like bills!" I handed her the mail
and quietly enjoyed my little joke and was soon seated in the dining room
watching the breakfast show and tucking into my usual plate of cereals
washed down with the last of the milk as mother poked her head round the
door.
"That clothes line thief has stolen another pair of Melissa's knickers!"
- "That's her white knitted crossover, she keeps as a memento of her ballet
days, a pink blouse, and a pair of her frilly white socks in less than a
month!" She sighed with frustration. "I can't understand why it is always
Melissa's things that are stolen, never anyone else's, apart from the young
girl three doors along, so her mother tells me." - "There must be a pervert
prowling about who gets kicks out of stealing little girls clothes." I
responded as she looked at me in horror. "Where did you get such talk Billy,
you shouldn't know about such things at your age! - I am disgusted with
you!" - "Sorry Mum, but we hear all sorts of rude tales at school these
days." - "Well, you shouldn't listen to such filthy talk, but walk away."
'Great!' I thought, 'My friends already think I'm sissy enough already
without doing that!' But mother, having snorted her disapproval had gone off
to get her breakfast. "Who has had all the milk? - did you use it Billy?"-
she called out as I gulped down the remains in my glass, hoping she wouldn't
notice. "No Mum, I think Melissa took it." I could hear her fuming away in
the kitchen, and she came in and sat down wearily with a cup of coffee made
with powdered milk and a toasted bagel.
"Are you going to ballet school tonight Billy?" So I told her I would
also be going on to the library afterwards, and I would be back indoors at
seven, just before dusk. "But you always seem to go there on the way back,
but never seem to get any books - you don't have a schoolboy crush on the
young librarian with the pretty blonde hair, do you Billy?" - "No of course
not!" I stammered, as my mind pictured the dishy Miss in question, (with me
in attendance in my school uniform, the one I always dream about, and
reading all the articles on my specialised subjects, namely ballet - and the
ther one which I would rather not mention right now!) - but I used my
feigned embarrassment as an excuse to quit the room and go upstairs to
examine the contents of my package, tucked uncomfortably down the front of
my trousers.
"Yes-yes-yes!" I shouted with glee as my feverish hands tore away the
wrappings to reveal my first pair of ballet 'pointes', purchased secretly by
mail order with money purloined from mother's purse. They were beautiful
hand made creations, in white satin, with the maker's name impressed into
the leather sole of each shoe, and as mum called from downstairs for me to
hurry off to school, I hid them in my hidey hole with all my other
treasures.
I then dashed off down the stairs and grabbed my schoolbag from the
sideboard, but in my haste knocked a cut glass fruit bowl to the floor where
it smashed to smithereens, and as Fred our cat fled off in terror, mum
rushed into the room to view the damage.Naturally I blamed the cat for the
incident as I pecked good old mum on the cheek and set out for Kings and Queens School,
cock-a-hoop at how easily I could fool my elders and evade responsibility
for my misdemeanours, and as I sauntered slowly towards school I recalled
the recent pattern of events which had culminated in me acquiring my very
own ballet blocks.
Melissa, my 14 year old sister was about two years my senior, and had
been attending ballet classes at Madame Olga's since she was seven, but had
suddenly packed it in early last month, probably since she had developed an
intense interest in swimming, thanks to Dad having an indoor pool recently
built onto the house. I was bitterly disappointed by her decision, because
even though I didn't go to ballet lessons myself in case my friends thought
I was a sissy, my sister had unwittingly passed on to me all the ballet
skills and nuances that she had learn't over the the years during her
frequent practices in our games room at home with me always on hand as a
casual observer, and on occasion even joining in with her as and when
invited.
Melissa had accumulated a sizeable selection of ballet videos which I
could view to my heart's content, but also included 'Little Rascals' one
which had long been one of my favourites, and I never failed to attend the
term end concerts and the visits of touring ballet companies in nearby
Henley, our local town. But unbeknown to everybody else in the family, I was
diligently practising on my own account in the disused sun-house in the
small orchard at the bottom of the garden, where I had pressed into service
an old wooden clothes horse as a makeshift 'barre', thanks to which I was as
accomplished a fourth grader as my sister was! But as time passed by, I
wasn't just happy dancing like her, I also wanted to be like her when
dancing, so out of sight of prying eyes I was left to play the part, almost
to my complete satisfaction over the past two years.
2.An 'unselfish act'!
Melissa had a hell of a row with mum when she told her what she really
thought of ballet dancing, and she never, ever wanted to see another pair of
ballet pumps as long as she lived, and furthermore she had dumped all her
ballet shoes in a skip at the end of the road the week before. - "And if you
want a ballerina in the family - Billy can be it!" Mum was beside herself
with grief and disappointment in view of the future, real or imagined, that
she had mapped out for her only daughter, but dad just called mum a 'control
freak' and to let Melissa go and enjoy her spare time in any way she thought
fit - as long as pushy boy-friends or drugs weren't involved!
But mum wasn't the only one upset, so in a gallant gesture I selflessly
offered myself up as the sacrificial lamb on the altar of mother's driving
ambition by going along with Melissa's suggestion and taking her place in
the ballet class! "That is very noble of you, Billy, but you don't know
anything about ballet." Was mother's reply, but my father just doubled up
with hysterics at my idiotic remark. "Oh yes he does, he is quite
accomplished, I have seen him." Melissa's intervention couldn't prevent me
from reacting to Dad's mocking laughter as it pursued me up the stairs to
bed, not even waiting for him to react to her reply as I ran off to my room
to weep the rest of the evening away, but I could hear my parents still
arguing over my suggestion after they went to bed. "Look here Laura, I don't
want my son taking sissy ballet lessons - he has never done any, and I don't
want him starting now! - we already have one sissy in the family and in any
case, he is too old to take it up, and he can't be very fit - as it is he
doesn't do any sports if he can possibly avoid it!"
But mum was now taking cudgels up on my behalf. "Now listen Harry, - boys
are advised not to attempt ballet exercises until much older than girls, so
why shouldn't he? - at least he can try if what Melissa says is true - You
said Melissa could spend her spare time pleasing herself what she did -
within reason that is - so why not Billy?" - Dad then piped up - "That boy
knows exactly how to twist you round his little finger - he isn't interested
in ballet, this is no unselfish act, he just wants to become more of a
mummy's pet than he already is! - and I don't trust him - he's a liar! Billy
is only doing a bit of arse crawling on his own account thats all!" I don't
know what mum hit him with, but dad let out quite a howl before slinking off
to sleep in the spare bedroom!
Mum obviously won the day as usual, for the following Saturday afternoon,
after the the other pupils had gone home from their lessons, I was duly
presented by mother to Madame Olga for an impromptu 'audition'. So with
Madame playing the piano and me wearing one of Melissa's swim suits and a
discarded pair of her ballet slippers which I had mysteriously resurrected,
I was ready to perform. I didn't want to give too much away, so I played
along with the barre work, and some basic floor exercises, and I could tell
that Madame was impressed at how polished my performance had been, so
naturally mum was ectastic when I was accepted in Melissa's place. "It's a
great pity Melissa gave up her efforts to become a ballerina Mrs. Fielding
but hopefully, young Billy will fit into her shoes instead!" Then Madame
asked me discreetly, "Where did you do your 'moonlighting' Master Fielding?
- you have a natural feminine grace." The gravity of Madame's remark may
have escaped mother, but it certainly wasn't wasted on me, and I gave a big
'hooray' to that!
Having been supplied with the necessary male ballet gear by mum, I was
soon engrossed in my twice weekly lessons. It was barely a week before my
classmates in Form 3b were aware of my new hobby, thanks to Rod Carter's
sister, so I had to put up with some cruel ribbing which involved some
fisticuffs, and although I received a black eye, I gave as good as I got to
my two assailants, so thankfully, just name calling and ridiculing from some
of the boys became the order of the day after that, but Tom and James, my
best friends still stood by me. A low wolf whistle brought me back to
reality as I arrived at the school gates and since I was late dashed off to
join my class.
During my lessons I kept on thinking about my newly acquired treasures
waiting for me at home, a pair of Melissa's flowery knickers and my very own
ballet blocks! So despite the snow-laden skies, I stopped on the way to
purchase four yards of inch wide white satin ribbon and some white cotton,
again courtesy of mum, and was soon back home engaged in the laborious task
of re-inforcing the toes of my blocks with cross-stitching, and sewing on
the four satin ribbons. It was hard to believe as I recalled three weeks ago
the private confrontation I had with Madame when I asked her if I could wear
ballet blocks and do some 'pointe' work with the girls. She looked me up and
down sharply. -"You should know by now Billy, that boys aren't built the way
girls are, so it is out of the question! It's hard enough getting enough
boys interested in ballet as it is, so you can't all be girls, and
furthermore, you want to run when you can barely walk!" Despite my tearful
pleadings, she was adamant, refusing to be moved on the issue, and that was
the reason I had set an agenda all of my own.
So wearing just a pair of ballet pumps, and suffering considerable pain
and discomfort, I had secretly practised my pointe work, so my blocks would
now make the task to emulate my sister that much easier! It took quite some
time to complete the sewing job, so I had to undress and hurriedly change
into my practice gear in order not to be late for my lesson, grabbing my
ballet bag on the way out and stuffing my ballet blocks into my coat pocket
for the twenty minute walk to ballet school, giving Mrs. Kelly, that nosey
neighbour of ours a cheeky grin as I passed.
3.'Caught Out!'
During
the lesson I was congratulated by Madame upon my barre work, but on hearing
this, Diana, who was Madame's daughter, who was working next to me at barre,
made her feelings clear as she looked down to give me a withering look
before storming out of the lesson all of a tizz - but then she was even more
of a 'madam' than her mother, so that was no great surprise. She certainly
didn't have any time whatsoever for us boys, and always adopted a snooty,
superior 'holier than thou' attitude in our presence. After we were
dismissed, I dived off well ahead of the other boys and girls, grabbed my
bag and coat from it's hook in the boys' tiny changing room, and dashed off
down the corridor to the back of the building and unobserved, in through the
door of the properties store, where I quickly concealed myself in my usual
hiding place - a huge wicker skip in the corner of the room, climbing in
amongst a mass of brightly coloured, elaborately decorated ballet tutus,
before closing the lid behind me as I sniggered at the thought that the
girls properties box sometimes didn't only contain ballet tutus! - and
recalled the occasion when I first hid in there - purely with the intention
of doing a 'Bill in the Box'- and jumping up and scaring the pants off the
girls, which worked quite well - but much to Madame's disgust, - and so the
seeds of an idea were sown. It was always very difficult not to laugh or
sneeze with the stiffened nets constantly tickling my arms and legs, but
principally my nose, as I managed to suppress a sneeze when I heard someone
enter the room to check that it was empty, and moments later hearing the key
turn in the front door behind them.
I scrambled out of my hiding place and went over to the second-hand
properties box and selected a practice outfit. Then with frantic speed I
stripped off my white singlet, black pumps, white socks and black ballet
tights, and finally my white pants, and after taking Melissa's knickers from
out of my bag and putting them on, arrayed myself in a pair of pink tights,
blue practice dress with a tiny multi-layered net tutu skirt, and Melissa's
white knitted cross-over which I tied in a bow at the back, before sitting
on the floor to try on my brand new satin ballet blocks - sheer heaven!
I removed the polythene bag from a long blonde wig resting on a wig-stand
on the shelf, and placing it on my head combed out the tangles with a tail
comb, tying my hair back with a blue alice band, and I was finally ready for
my 'grande entrance' - instead of which I just scurried down the corridor
like a frightened rabbit, revelling at how daring I was venturing further
into unknown territory, halting briefly to wipe my blocks in the rosin box,
then onwards into the practice studio, my heart pumping away with fear and
pleasure in equal measure. 'Yes, she was there again',
reflected in the vast expanse of mirrored glass, the delightful creature
that filled my dreams, as she made her way gracefully over to the practice
barre to repeat her warm-up exercises before trying out her new 'pointes'.
But soon she was practising at centre: developes to arabesques, sissonnes,
pirouettes, even disastrous grande jetes, but it is so much more enjoyable
and comfortable on blocks than when wearing satinised linen pumps, and the
prima Ballerina's smile of satisfaction on her face in the mirror confirmed
as much! I was halfway through a port-de-bras as reflected in the mirror,
when suddenly I saw the door open behind me, and in walked Diana! I turned
to face her as she slowly paced the room - a broad smirk on that snooty face
of hers as I stammered - "I thought everyone had gone home Diana?" But she
ignored my irrelevant remark - "You are the new girl here I believe?" she
drooled - "Mummy will just love to have such a talented ballerina in her
ballet school, and such a pretty one as well, and that's a real bonus!"
At that moment I caught sight of myself once again in the mirror, but she
was no longer confident and poised, sitting atop her ivory tower, she was
now just another little girl trying to pretend to be something she's not,
nervously fingering the hems of her dress, worried uncertainty etched in her
face, openly taunted by her worst enemy. "I just love your ballet
dress dear, where did you get it?" But the 'frog-princess' couldn't even
raise a croak, standing there waiting for the next assault on my
sensibilities. "I just loved your pas-de-bouree-pique, it was so elegant I
could hug you to death!" She was now sauntering round and round me as I
stood flat-footedly fixed to the spot. Diana's face a picture of triumph
over adversity! - "We have a boy called Billy in the school who thinks he
can practise 'en pointes', but he can't and he never will!" - "Umm, but
Diana, I am Billy - and I can do it - you just saw me do it!" I stammered
weakly. "But you can't be Billy, Billy went home ages ago, I saw him myself!
- and HE certainly wasn't dressed in a girl's regulation practice outfit the
way you are." She giggled slightly and then held out my coat which she had
carried into the room as she continued - "But Billy seems to have forgotten
his coat when he left, so you may as well borrow it!" - I then stamped my
foot in frustration, - "But I am Billy as you fucking well know!" "Tut-tut
little girl - such language! Aunty Diana will have to put you over her knee
and smack your cute little botty!"
She really had me on the ropes now as tiny teardrops began to form, and
run down my scarlet cheeks. "There there, don't cry pet, I will let you
borrow my old furry lined coat instead of Billys, since its started to snow
outside, and sensitive little girls don't like to wear boy's things." With
the tears welling up inside me I decided the best form of defence would be a
tactical retreat. "Gulp! well Diana, I'm ready to leave now, but first I
must go and change." I dashed out of the studio, and down the corridor to
the props room, but horror of horrors, Diana must have locked the door with
my other clothes still inside the room, and although I tried to force the
door open with my shoulder, it wouldn't give, and as I turned round I found
Diana standing behind me. "Yes, we will have to leave now - Wendy, if you
don't mind me calling you that! - I have to lock up!" - "I do mind!" I
snarled - "My name is Darcey when I'm dressed like this!"- My face went
ashen at my niave admission, which pleased Diana no end - "But I can't go
home dressed like this." - I wailed. - "Well all the other girls do, so why
should you be so different and object, so now 'Darcey', why don't you
'Bussell' off home!" - "For a start I'm not a girl, as you well know, and I
want my proper clothes back!" - "Really?" - she said - "from where I am
standing you look like a girl, you dress like a girl, you talk like a girl,
you dance like a girl and you cry like a girl, so don't be so bashful,
Wendy, just put my furry coat on and we can trot off home, there's a good
girl!"
"I won't!" I blazed,- stamped my foot in anger, and pulled my blonde wig
from off my head. "You can go to hell! I want my clothes back!" My cheek
stung as Diana slapped me hard across the face, as she replaced my wig on my
head and retorted - "Do as you are told or else!" With the tears streaming
down my face I took her royal blue coat with its white furry hood but before I could find the armholesas as I slid it round my shoulders , Diana had
zipped it up at the front trapping my arms by my sides before bending down
and sliding a pair of woolly leg warmers over my exposed legs. "There Wendy,
that wasn't too bad, was it?" She stood up and taking me firmly by the arm,
escorted me down the corridor and out into the half-light of the street,
locking the door behind us. There was no escape for me now - I was comitted
to an embarrassing confrontation with either Mum or Dad - unless I could
figure a way of getting to my room unobserved, having first dumped my
escort, a plan which fell apart as she declared.
"I will make sure you get home safely Wendy." - so with Diana leading me
down the freezing, bustling streets I was constantly aware of the powder
blue tutu poking provocatively from beneath Diana's bumfreezer of a coat, my hands and arms were firmly trapped inside which, in view of the terrible weather, startled several astounded passers-by as I waddled flat-footedly alongside her in the thin coating of
snow, still wearing my lovely ballet pointes - which I hoped and prayed
wouldn't be ruined by the damp.
As we neared home I stopped and faced Diana, my teeth chattering in the
cold- "I-I-I think I can make it from here - it's snowing quite hard Diana
and it is further out of your way." But she wasn't going to take the bait -
"No young lady - I must make sure you don't try to sneak in the back way!"
and so I continued to plod my way towards home in the safe custody of Diana,
who was so much taller and could easily outpace me if I tried to run away.
The lights were on in the house, and the car was in the driveway - so
everyone was home including my sister, as Diana strode purposefully with me
in tow up the steep steps to the front door, rang the bell, and pushed a
plastic shopping bag she was carrying into the frozen fingers of one of my
trapped hands.
"There
you are - Doll - home safe and sound" she whispered in my ear before she
beat a hasty retreat down the road as Mother opened the front door and I
squeezed past her in the half light - "Sorry Mum, I forgot my key," - and I made a bee-line
for the stairs."Billy! - Come back here at once!" She commanded. I stopped
in mid-flight, turned and padded back towards her wishing the ground would
open and swallow me up, but no such luck as Melissa appeared in the kitchen
door. "WOW! I love the get-up Billy, - Dad will be most impressed!"
Mother scowled - "That's enough from you Melissa, - now Sonny Jim, - come
in the kitchen, we want a word with you! - and where on earth did you get that furry coat and what on earth are you wearing
underneath?" - she continued, gesturing at Diana's coat and it's white
furry hood framing my bright red face - "Now get it off!" she commanded. -
"But I am cold Mummy" was my snivelling reply - "But where is your coat,
Billy? snapped mother, - "and where are your ballet pumps?" said Melissa as
she looked down at my white satin blocks,and her eyes opened even wider at
the sight of my pink ballet tights and the short flimsy powder blue tutu
peeping from beneath Diana's short coat."Get that coat off now!"
barked Mum as the tears began to stream down my cheeks."But I can't, my arms
are trapped inside!" Melissa could now see the predicament I was in, so she
obligingly unhooked the zip fastener as the garment slid from my shoulders,
to reveal her white crossover and the rest of my practice outfit in all it's
glory! Mum then grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and amidst amused
smiles from Melissa I was frogmarched into the lounge where Dad was reading
the evening paper."Here he is Father, he is all yours!" Dad looked up from
the paper at the sound of Mother's voice and a look of disbelief spread over
his face. "What the devil are you wearing a girl's wig for Son?" He threw
down the paper, jumped up but when he caught sight of my powder blue tutu,
he staggered back into his chair in shock! - "What are you doing in that,
Billy - it's a girls outfit - I always said you would end up as a pansy!" -
"Going to ballet lessons indeed!" yelled dad, "That's only for sissies and
girls as I have always warned - I can't bear to look at you." and then
turned his back in disgust- "And where is your ballet kit?" asked mother as
in between sobs I tried to explain.
"Umm. - we had fancy dress at ballet class today, with all the boys
having to dress up as girls, and I left my gear behind because we didn't
have time to change back."My off-the-cuff reply was hardly convincing and
fooled nobody as mother took the carrier bag I was holding and looked
inside, - "Well dad, here is his coat and ballet gear in this bag." I tried
to collect my thoughts - "But I was forced to wear these clothes!" I wailed,
feeling hopelessly trapped in my alter-ego.
"But surely Billy, the girls didn't do that to you, and in any case, why
didn't you change before you came home? - After all, your ballet lesson
finished over an hour ago, unless of course you floated into the library
dressed like that! - I am sure your young librarian friend would have been
most impressed!" But even I could tell my parents were neither laughing or
joking, I had taken the bait and was in dead trouble, and they no longer had
amused smiles on their faces as they reeled me in!
"Have you ever stolen anything Billy?" - "No Mum, of course not!" I
spluttered, feeling hotter by the minute. "Do you tell porkies then Billy?"
- "No! never!" I answered defiantly. "Perhaps Mrs. Kelly next door tells
lies then?" - "How do you mean Mum?" - "Mrs. Kelly said she saw you take
Melissa's white ballet jumper and her knickers from the line this morning,
is that true?" - "No of course not Mum, why should I do such a thing!" Mum's
eyes gleamed with triumph - "Perhaps then young man, you would kindly
explain why you are wearing her crossover right now!" - "This isn't her
jumper Mum, it's somebody else's."
4.'Punished!'
Meanwhile, Melissa, standing behind me had turned back the neck of the
garment - "Here it is Mummy, my name tag!" - Touche! - my sins had found me
out! "You have been telling us a pack of lies Billy, and we cannot trust you
any more, you are a thief and a liar!" This revelation had dad once again on
the offensive as rose from his chair, strode across the room towards me and
bawled - "You little fairy, go to your room this minute and get yourself to
bed - there's no food for you tonight, and take THAT with you!" and he
landed me a wallop which sent me reeling. I burst into tears and rushed from
the lounge, up to my room and threw myself on the bed crying unmercifully.
Mother and Melissa came upstairs ten minutes later and despite still
being angry, sat alongside me on the bed as they tried to comfort me as best
they could, and after I had calmed down mother began to rationalise the
situation. "Father is furious with you for stealing, which is a phase you
boys tend to go through, but he is more upset by your lying - why didn't you
tell the truth Billy?" - "I-I-I- tried to Mum, but it seemed such an easy
way out." I spluttered between gulps. "also you have been down my handbag
and stealing money, and although father doesn't know, it makes me equally as
mad!" - "I am sorry Mum, but I was desperate to buy my first blocks."
"But little boys don't normally wear blocks Billy?" was Melissa's comment
as mother re-inforced her argument by gently patting me on the butt, - "they
are only for us girls." "But I like wearing them - I love to rise up and try
to defy gravity." - "A creature defying gravity, - that's an apt phrase in
your case son!" I could see dad standing in the doorway, reflected in my
dressing table mirror as he contemplated the feminine looking creature
arrayed in the flimsiest of attire in shades of pinks and blues, her feet
encased in the daintiest of footwear, her ankles trapped in delicate bonds
of white satin ribbon, lying prone on her tummy across the bed, her features
obscured by the golden tresses of her blonde wig as he tried to come to
terms with the fact I was just a bit 'odd' - or at least he was trying to
create some sort of truth out of my home grown fantasy, while mother
suddenly re-appeared from my dressing room.
"We also found a strange assortment of female attire in the back of your
closet, some of which is your sisters, but goodness knows where the other
has come from! - but your father has already been on the phone to Madame
Olga to query how you came by this!" She was holding up a plastic bag
containing my most precious acquisition, one of the tutus out of the
properties box back at the ballet studio, and she went into the gory details
of how I had been caught out by their daughter. "You don't have to say
anything now son, since you will be going along to explain yourself to
Madame in person tomorrow morning. My parents then decided to leave me to my
own devices, while Melissa stayed behind to keep me company, and do some
more digging on her own account.
"You look really sweet in that outfit Billy, - no wonder you wanted to go
to ballet lessons in my place, you are an absolute 'doll'!" Following my
sister's comment, I rolled over and sat up on the bed. "Do you really mean
it 'sis'?" I blurted out without really thinking as she squatted on the bed
alongside me. "I would loved to have had a little sister to play with when I
was younger, so perhaps I will get my wish after all." - "But I am only
dressed like this so that I can practice the girls parts in my ballet
lessons." - was my response.
"You might say that Billy!" - she continued kindly, but firmly, - "but
why have you collected all those other 'girly' things in your closet? -
After all you wouldn't wear a girl's nighty to ballet class, or a
school-girl's blouse, or a St. Mary's pinafore dress, now would you?" (St.
Mary's was the private girls school the other side of town, and our
neighbour's daughter two doors along goes there) "And what about all those
grown up ladies knickers and slips?" - "Umm. I found them in a skip" "Now
Billy, enough of the lies, you have stolen them from clothes lines - Is it
because you would like to be a little girl who grows into a big lady?" - "No
- of course not!" I stammered as Melissa read the truth through all my lies.
Just then Mummy came in through the door with my supper tray. "Dad has
relented, so you won't go hungry after all - and while you are eating, I can
tell you about the phone conversation Dad has just had with Mr. Somers." -
"Who is Mr. Somers?" - "Surely you know that Billy! He is Madame Olga's
husband, and deputy headmaster of your school! and he feels your punishment
should fit your crime, - father and I entirely agree." 'Boy, am I in
trouble!' I thought as I munched away, 'old Somers can really give me grief,
since he is responsible for discipline.' But mother just ploughed on - "Also
Diana was very impressed by your dancing, and she thinks you will make a
wonderful ballerina, - but that doesn't excuse your behaviour, and her
mother feels you should be punished!"- I began to wriggle uncomfortably, and
promptly choked on a mouthful of food, spreading it liberally over my
borrowed plumes, as the meaning of her statement slowly sank in. Yes, Somers
was a great one for novel forms of punishing pupils, and what was to be
tried on me, had been tried successfully many times before! While mum and
Melissa pulled faces, I put my tray on one side, jumped off the bed, and
pattered out to my en suite to try to clear up the mess I was in - although
curry was never my favourite food!
Sure enough, that one phone-call had sealed my fate, and mum informed me
it had been decided I was to attend school next week in Melissa's old school
uniform, and furthermore, I would be transferred to Form 3g, the girls
class, and as a foretaste I would spend the whole of the coming weekend
getting acclimatised to wearing some of Melissa's dresses, even for my
confrontation with Madame in the morning in order to return her stolen
ballet dress! When I returned to the bedroom, dressed just in Melissa's
knickers, I found that mum had laid the pink cotton nightdress that I had
pinched from Amanda, one of my my cousins across my bed.
"Well Wendy, seeing you will be dolled up for all of next week at least,
I think you may as well start right now, don't you agree young lady!" There
was an evil smirk on Melissa's face as mother referred to me in the feminine
gender and she laughed uproariously when told who gave me my adopted name of
Wendy, as she picked my nighty from off the bed, and held it up for me to
slip into. "Come over here Wendy, and I will put it on for you dear!" and I
meekly trotted over from the door to allow her a moment of glory as she
lowered the garment carefully over my head and fussily arranged the frilled
neckline to sit properly upon my bare shoulders. "We don't want to disturb
those golden tresses, do we darling?" she went on as I realised I was still
wearing my fluffy wig, but my hand was promptly slapped out of the way when
I went to remove it. "Leave it where it is Wendy, or we might superglue it
in place!"
Such a threat soon had me doing as I was told, and without a moments
hesitation I jumped into bed and had the duvet tucked all round me. "Now
there's a good girl, best get some beauty sleep, goodnight sweetheart, sweet dreams!" They both kissed me on the cheek and putting my light out left the room in
darkness as I heard them quietly sniggering together while they walked off
down the corridor. "She won't be getting back into her boy's clothes for a
long time if I can help it!" - was Melissa's parting shot as they retreated
down the stairs leaving me to ruminate over an uncertain future, thanks to
nosey Diana and her meddling, - everything was going swimmingly until
tonight, now my pre-occupation with things feminine was general knowledge,
and was I going to be humiliated for it!
Yes, some of the deputy heads ideas on discipline were quite novel in a
school where boys and girls were segregated into seperate classes, the 'Kings' and the 'Queens'. Children caught smoking on school premises spent a week sitting in
class with babies dummies stuck in their mouths; both boy and girl bullies were made to attend school wearing flourescent
pink terrorists style headgear emblazoned with their names; truants wore
a dog collar and chain and were always accompanied by a minder to make sure they didn't lose their way on school premises. All in all - such methods could prove effective, - but not always!
I had heard of a number of boys in the past being subjected to a dose of
'petticoat punishment' for a morning or all day, perhaps for bullying, stealing from, or flipping
girls dresses - or even worse, and then being made to come to school dressed in
schoolgirl's uniforms, being given girl's names, and as 'Queens' having to attend girls'
classes thus dressed, and it was rumoured that in some instances they became
fully integrated into what was mean't to be a temporary role! - In fact,
human rights lawyers would have a field day with some of the ideas tried out
by Mr. Somers!
During the night I was once again revisited by one of my favourite dreams of an old musical film I once saw on the telly when I was about six including a song and dance routine but with me as the fortunate boy partnering the pretty girl with the two of us dressed in extremely sissyish satin and net party dresses decorated with posies of flowers, wearing long blonde curly wigs with enormous satin bows, and on our dainty feet short white socks and pretty mary jane shoes, and armed with quaint satin lined flower baskets as we tap-danced round the stage and happily embraced at the end.
5.'An eventful morning!'
"Wakey-wakey-Wendy!" It was the following morning and a lovely warm
Saturday as Mummy accompanied by Melissa, bustled into my room. "To save
your blushes in front of dad, we have brought you breakfast in bed." I was
still half asleep but I sat up as Mummy placed the tray in my lap and she
then disappeared into the bathroom to run my bath."I have laid out the
clothes you are to wear for the rest of the day on your dressing room chair,
thankfully all the snow has cleared so you can wear a pretty sunny dress in
keeping with the weather." As I glanced down at the golden tresses tickling
my bare shoulders, and cascading over the lacy top of the nighty I was
wearing, panic suddenly set in. "But Mummy, you don't really expect me to
dress up as a girl all over the weekend, do you?" She emerged from the
closet with my lovely tutu as she smiled wistfully at Melissa, - "I always
imagined having two daughters around the house, - It looks as though my
dream is about to come true, all-be-it but briefly."
Melissa was already dressed in jeans and a short-sleeve white blouse, so
while I washed my teeth she scooted off downstairs with my tray while mother
stayed behind to help me get dressed in Melissa's freshly laundered dress
now laid across a chair in my dressing-room. "Take your nighty off Wendy,
and slip into these." I did as I was told and now stood in a pair of
Melissa's white flowered cotton panties, the sort that me and my friends
would deliberately attempt to ogle by following the girls up the staircase
into school, craning our necks to peep up their skirts at the treasures
beyond the pale, - but I certainly wouldn't be doing such a thing now that I
would be wearing them!
"The trouble with girls dresses is when the fabric loses it's crispness,
you need to wear a starched cotton slip to give your dress some body - so
hold your arms up for me now, precious." She held the garment above me and
slowly lowered it down over my head and arms, as the stiffened skirt
fluttered down and the white lacy hem came to rest just above my knees as
she then arranged the elasticated waistband comfortably round my tummy,
though I found the frilly layers around the hem were a bit off-putting. "Do
all girls have to go through all this fuss?" I enquired - "Best ask your
sister that young lady! - She is older than you, and is growing rapidly, so
she has to contend with much, much, more." - but innocent little me didn't
understand what she was talking about!
"Sit
on the bed Wendy, and you can put on your shoes and socks." I looked in
dismay at the short, white lacy socks I was expected to wear. "But why can't
I wear tights the same as Melissa does?" - groaning with disappointment. "Do
any of the girls of your age wear tights to school?" - "No Mummy!" I
replied, biting my lip. "Well girl, that's your answer!" So I had to settle
for the frilly topped white socks and dinky black dolly shoes - what Melissa
described as her 'Shirley Temple' look - hence my objections!
I looked over at the dress lying across the chair, a short blue cotton
dress with elbow length sleeves, a peter pan collar and a ruched bodice. -
So I didn't need any encouragement from mummy to try the dress on for
myself, permitting her to button it up at the back, before I turned towards
the mirror for a preview, while she went to work with her make-up bag.
Five mintes later I was still dreamily staring in the mirror having just
had my first 'face job' when the door swung open. "Is she ready yet?" Mummy
was working on my curly locks with a tail comb and tied my hair in two
bunches with blue satin ribbons as Melissa dashed into the room and gasped
with delight as she eyed up her new playmate. "She looks pretty as a picture
- she is scrumptious - I could eat her all up!" - "No you don't girl, I
spent too much time getting my new princess ready for her first outing for
you to spoil things for her now, and anyway, we are late!"
The next moment I had the plastic bag containing my tutu thrust into my
hand before being propelled out of my bedroom, along the corridor to the top
of the stairs, where I hesitated, suddenly aware of my father, ogling up at
my bare legs and goodness knows what else from the downstairs hall,
witnessing my total humiliation and subjugation, my legs turning to jelly as
the realisation dawned of how vulnerable I had become in my assumed role as
a little, innocent girl called Wendy, and what I was letting myself in for!
The second hurdle would be a quick dash out to the car in full view of
all the neighbours, then a three minute drive through town to Madame Olgas,
running the gauntlet of the senior boys and girls at ballet class, to face
up to the nauseating experience of explaining away how a gorgeous tutu
boasting a satin ribbed basque decorated with sequins and rhinestones, and
multiple layers of net skirts with matching satin and lace panties came to
be in my possesion, and for what purpose? I made a desperate grab for the
hand rail as my legs buckled under me, my tutu slipping from my grasp and
gathering speed as it tumbled down the stairs into Daddy's arms as his
features registered shock horror as he anticipated me taking the same route,
and he being so far out of reach, so unable to help.
Fortunately I regained my balance, and so with legs a-trembling, and
gripping the hand-rail for all I was worth, I clip-clopped unsteadily down
the stairs, and into the the outstretched arms of my father for a most
unexpected cuddle. - "I thought you were a goner then Bill --,Wendy!" as we
all let out a joint sigh of relief. Daddy's generous hug restored my
self-confidence, as he looked down at me and holding me at arms length.
"Ahem!" he coughed - "You look very nice - in that dress - ahem! - Wendy
dear." I lowered my eyelashes to my scarlet cheeks. "Umm!- thank you Daddy!"
I replied smiling at his unveiled compliment which surprised us all! -
"Thanks for that Dad!" said Mummy as she kissed him on the cheek. "Race you
out to the car." called Melissa happily. "No more rushing around today for
this young lady!" reprimanded Mummy, so Melissa took me gently by the hand
as father opened the front door for us and we skipped daintily down the
steps towards the car, only to be brought to an abrupt halt by three of my
best friends! "Is Billy indoors, Melissa?" asked Tom as my confidence took
another tumble! But while the boys were talking to my sister I went to slip
quietly past them down the steps and out into the car. "I didn't see him
indoors, do you know where Billy has gone, Wendy?" My backward glance of
reproach at my sister allowed the three boys to read the guilty expression on
my face as recognition dawned and James demanded - "Hey Billy, why are you
going out dressed as a girl?" Meanwhile, Mummy had appeared on the scene to
twist the knife even further.
"He is being punished by Mr. Somers, so that is the reason he is dressed
as a girl, isn't that right Billy?" I nodded my head unhappily. John grinned
impishly. "In that case you must be in real trouble with old Somers, that
must mean you are grounded all next week and in with the girls - Wendy is
it?" The three chuckled uproariously at my discomforture. "It shouldn't be
that bad for you Wendy, after all the piss-taking you get at school for
being a ballet-boy."
"And whats the frilly thing in the bag, Billy?" Tom had spotted the
ballet tutu I was carrying, so mother kindly explained!- "It's a ballerina's
dress, Tom, Billy stole it from ballet school to wear at home, so he is on
his way to take it back to Mrs. Somers in the car." 'I don't believe I am
hearing this,' I thought to myself, as my friends looked me up and down just
once more - just to be sure! "We are taking this box to my uncles before
going over to the common to climb the old oak so perhaps you can come along
later." said James "Not dressed like THAT she won't!" laughed Tom, but Mummy
intervened as she took my tutu and before Tom could protest shoved it in his
arms "You may as well make yourself useful Tom, you can carry Wendy's tutu
out to the car for her" - "Err yes, Mrs. Fielding." was all the shocked and
dismayed boy could say as the other two sniggered quietly in the background
as we continued down the steps and out to the car before allowing the boys
to scamper off and spread the word amongst my friends.
Our arrival at Madame Olga's was greeted by Diana as she dashed over to
the car, surprisingly with a broad smile of welcome on her face as she
excitedly opened my door. -"Hi Wendy! I am so pleased you came, - let me
take that from you while you get out." She held my tutu as I climbed out of
the car. "My-oh-my, I love the dress!" she continued warmly. "Umm, it's only
one of my sister's cast-offs." an admission Melissa didn't approve of from
the look on her face. "Well, it is a very nice dress, for a boy to wear that
is - it really suits you, since you have such nice legs!" Diana took me by
the hand, and led the way into the building, Mother and my sister tagging
along behind as we trotted along the corridor past the dance studio, to
tap-tap at the door of her mother's office, where Madame was already
waiting.
"Come in my dears!" - her voice boomed from inside, and we entered.
Surprise, surprise! so was old man Somers as he gave me the once over, and
we were invited to sit down. "So you are Wendy, who our daughter has told us
so much about?" I shuffled uncomfortably in my borrowed plumes under my
tormentor's gaze, even though his quietly spoken comment was a kindly one.
"Speak, girl, speak!" - prompted Madame. "Umm, - Yes Mrs. Somers!" I
stammered, unsure who to address beneath Madame's icy gaze.
"I am pleased to see you are dressed as a young girl, and may I say so, a very
convincing one at that! - and that your long suffering parents fully support
the punishment being meted out to you for stealing - in fact, I believe that
is some of my property you have there?" She eyed the white satin tutu which
I had placed in the skirts of my lap as I coughed uneasily before finding my
voice - "Yes Madame, I'm afraid it is." I meekly replied.
"I hope you realise Billy, that a costume like that is very expensive,
even top ballet companies couldn't afford to lose such a dress, why did you
steal it?" I fiddled with the plastic bag, as I recalled the pleasure
wearing that dress had given me over the past fortnight when I wore it in
the summerhouse. "Because I liked wearing it for my practice sessions in
private at home, Madame Olga." as I blurted out my true feelings for once,
as her eyes narrowed to slits. "So would all my female pupils, and even all
the boys, if the truth be known, but only very special young ladies get to
wear such a dress, and in any case, stealing is stealing!" she boomed. "I am
very sorry Madame, but I only borrowed it, knowing I would never have the
chance to wear such a beautiful ballet costume, not at ballet class, not on
stage and certainly not as a boy!"
She stood up and paced up and down the office. "Well young man, thank you
for being so candid, and in any case, you could be wrong, you could wear
that dress - if you were a girl that is! - and for this reason I have asked
you to come here today, since I have a proposal to put to you. I am pleased
to see you are appropriately dressed for the role I have in mind, and that
you have your ballet case with you." Her face had now softened somewhat as
she continued. "My daughter Diana has told me how impressed she was with
your unauthorised solo performance 'en pointes' last night, and your sister
is to be congratulated for unwittingly training you so well." My sister
looked pleased at the honorary mention from her former mentor as Madame Olga
sniffed. "It's a great pity Melissa passed up the opportunity I will be
giving you instead, Billy, - or perhaps I should say Miss Fielding?"
Melissa's smile had now been replaced by a disapproving scowl as I waited to
hear what fate had in store as Madame started her sales pitch.
"In three weeks time during the half-term holidays, our senior class and
their parents will be making the bi-annual exchange trip to Madame Druon's
ballet school near Paris, which will include a visit to the Palais de
Madelaine, and the customary charity concert, featuring boys and girls from
both ballet schools." She stopped pacing up and down and looked through the
glass screen and into the studio where the senior class were being put
through their paces by Miss Jones. "Unfortunately the Blake twins will be
unable to join us on this occasion, since their family are moving back to
the States early next week, so they will miss the Paris trip, and this
places us in a quandry."
My heart skipped a beat as I guessed what was to come next, and Diana and
I were named as possible replacements for the departing twins, and because
the timescale was so short, we were to participate with the senior ballet
class forthwith for an assessment! "Yes-yes-yes!" was my immediate reply to
Madame's question as Diana excitedly took me by the hand and led me away
towards the girls' locker room."But I can't go in there!" My voice quavered
as I hesitated before being hauled over the threshold and ordered to strip
and put on my practice tunic. "Don't be so shy Wendy,at the end of the day,
you are one of us girls now - part of the team, so I should do as you are
told if you want to take this chance and go to Paris, and Mummy said you
could wear this - it will make you feel more the part." - and she handed me
a beautiful orange tutu to wear. Despite my joy at wearing such a dress so
soon, and my obvious discomfort, Diana giggled, and without further ado she
began to get to get undressed right in front of me!
I
was about to follow her lead when there was a clatter of platform shoes down
the corridor and two of the senior girls rushed noisily into the room, gave
me a cursory glance, and with a "Hi Diana - are we very late?" began to take
their clothes off at break-neck speed. With her two soul mates now in the
room, any thought of stripping off there and then was abandoned. "Come on
Wendy, hurry up girl." Her pointed comment had Angela and Tracy eyeing me up
and down, trying to put the face to a name, but it was only as Angela bent
down to remove her panties and she glanced over as I stood with my tongue
hanging out that the penny suddenly dropped! "I know you! - You are Billy,
Melissa's younger brother!" Tracy's curiosity was now aroused and she too
gave me the once over. "Yep,- it sure is,- but what are you dressed as a
girl for, Billy?" With three naked girls now facing me I was in no mental
state to reply, as I prepared to make a tactical retreat through the
door."Billy is going to be Wendy from now on girls - she and I are taking
the twins part for the Paris trip!" Angela winked and smiled a friendly
smile. - "If I were you Wendy, I would suggest you had better strip double
quick if you don't want Madame Ogre on your case!" Then the three girls
giggled conspiratorily as they continued to get ready for the lesson. I just
shrugged my shoulders impassively and slowly began to take off my dress,
turning my back and begging a favour of my companions. "Please Angela would
you undo my buttons at the back - only I can't reach." Angela stamped her
foot in mock agitation, - Tut-tut! Typical girl! Always needing help with
her dress! - Now you know why most girls wear these." She indicated her
singlet top and jeans laying across the bench, reminding me that I was the
only one in the room trapped in a dress, and totally dependant upon others
for my salvation.
I eventually trotted out to join the ballet class wearing the lovely
orange ballet tutu, and my ballet pointes firmly secured in place with white
satin ribbons, feeling as if I could conquer the world! But with Mummy and
Melissa looking on from the safety of the office, and Miss Jones now playing
the piano, I suddenly lost my nerve, so my ballet lesson with the other
fifteen girls and four boys was hardly a howling success as I tried to
emulate the movements of the more experienced ballerinas around me,
particularly Carlotta, since she was head and shoulders above the rest of
us, her movements - so graceful, her musicianship - uncanny, her
interpretation - faultless, she was truly a natural, but she was the ugliest
girl in the ballet school - and I mean ugly! Eventually my enthusiasm was
rewarded by being warned by Madame not to strain too much and possibly risk
a hernia, which created a general chorus of laughter all round, and also set
me thinking!
The lesson for me seemed over too quickly, as I joined the girls in
curtseying a 'reverance', whilst the boys just bowed to Madame and Miss
Jones before we all trotted flatfootedly back to the changing rooms.
Absent-mindedly I followed the boys towards their pokey little locker room,
but Kevin, who was behind me soon put me to rights. "You are in with the
girls now Billy - Umm! - sorry! - Wendy! - so don't forget next time!" and
the saucy devil patted me on the bottom as I turned to pitter patter off to
join the girls, but I was most surprised that common knowledge of my
transformation hadn't prompted a more negative reaction from my new
classmates, as they seemed to readily accept me as just another girl in the
corps de ballet! However, my most terrifying ordeal so far was about to take
place, as I went in through the door and made my way across the room to my
belongings, squeezing past young ladies in various stages of dress and
undress, as they prepared to go out and face the world in their everyday
clothes - except in my case I was condemned to a whole week clad in my
punishment clothes, whether I liked it or not, and reflecting a feminine
persona which up to now had been alien to me!
"Stop gawping Wendy and hurry up and get changed!" Diana brought me down
to earth with a bump, so I tried to concentrate on removing my practice
tunic prior to dressing in Melissa's street clothes and ignoring the array
of bare breasts and buxiom bottoms all around me - but it wasn't so easy,
especially when the two two less well-developed 'girls' talking quietly
together on the bench next to me made me realise I wasn't entirely on my
own, as I glanced down at their flaccid thingies nestling between their
muscular thighs. I coughed discreetly trying to draw Diana's attention to my
momentous discovery, but by the time realisation dawned, padded brassiers
and lacy panties concealed their shortcomings, and made the two boys
indistinguishable from all the other girls in the room!
"These two here are boys, just like me!" I whispered quietly in Diana's
ear, and she smiled a cheeky smile in return. - "That's right Wendy, and
they aren't the only ones either!" I was so shocked I stood transfixed,
still holding my panties in my hands, and completely bare from the waist
down, until Diana nudged me, "Better hide yours up too girl!" But in my
haste to make myself decent, I lost my balance as one of my toes became
caught in the crotch of my panties and I bumped unceremoniously into
my neighbour, as he or she held out her arms to stop me falling to the
ground. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" I gasped as I stepped back, a semi-tragic figure
with one leg in and one leg out of my lacy knickers, and unsure what to do
next. She and her companion smiled serenly, "Thats all right Wendy - at
least you weren't cack-handed during our lesson - but perhaps you should at
least finish the job as Diana suggested, and avoid red faces all round!" So
with comical high speed I hid the incriminating evidence from my audience,
who hadn't finished with me yet. "I believe you go to our school Wendy? - we
are both in the same class - form 6g, - I am Jane Fleming, while the ugly
girl here is Pauline!" Pauline grimmaced at her friend's joke as she sat on
the bench, putting on her tights, before slipping on her trainers. "We heard
on the grapevine that Mr. Somers has placed you in form 3g from next Monday
onwards - so if you have any problems with girl bullies, and the such-like,
please give me or Tarzan's Jane here a shout and we will fly over to sort
things out!" Diana was now fully dressed in a crop top and jeans, while my
two soul-sisters boasted blue and pink mini-skirts, matching ribbons in
their hair and see through puffed sleeved blouses, their lacy bras clearly
visible through the flimsy material, and I watched fascinated, as they
expertly touched up their make-up, and clipped their earings in place,
finally applying a dab of perfume here, here and oops! - there!
"Do you
fancy a coffee in Oasis Mall Diana? - perhaps Wendy would like to join us too
- seeing it's her first day as a girl and we can make it a double celebration." I
didn't want to pass up the opportunity of spending some more time with my
new found friends and quiz them about their past, present and future, and
get some more mileage out of my drag-rags, so I dashed off to ask Mummy's
permission. Mummy had arranged for Melissa to have a makeover and a manicure
in the Mall by way of consolation for her missing the Paris trip, and since
we were all heading in the same direction, Mummy had no objection to me having coffee
with my friends. "We can meet under the clock at eleven thirty so that we
can go and choose you both a new dress if you would like that.
Oasis Mall was just across the street, so we strolled over the road,
trying to ignore the farmyard noises from some young studs just passing in
an old Ford, and we were soon comfortably seated in 'Luigis', chatting away
animatedly while sipping hot cappachinos, and casually observing the passing
competition, and anyone else who took our fancy in the way that young girls
do!
"Diana tells us you are joining her class on Monday?" - I shrugged my
shoulders hopelessly. - "Umm, yes I'm afraid so, I am the latest victim of
one of old Somer's whimsical jokes." - But Diana piped up - "I was the one
that persuaded Daddy to put you in my class Wendy, and I am the one that
will decide when you will get your trousers back - if ever!" Diana wasted little
time in putting me straight on that score, much to the amusement of the two
older 'girls'. "Enjoy your punishment while you may Wendy, not many boys get
the chance to sample both sides of the coin the way we do!"
But I now asked Pauline 'why the two boys were attending school dressed
as girls, taking their lessons with a class of girls, and living full-time
as girls, while they were not subject to a punishment regime?' - "We just
want to be girls, that's all Wendy - but it all started when we were ten,
and a group of us were talking together during break about this girl called
Evelyn who appeared on television and said she used to be a boy, so I asked
John, who I was always at loggerheads with, if he would ever try out being a
girl."- Jane then cut in - "Naturally I told Paul no way would I be caught
out wearing girls clothes since I didn't want to be called a sissy, so he
called me a cowardy custard instead.
We had a bit of a fight after that, and after we had been seperated and
dusted ourselves down, I breathlessly responded that I didn't really mind
being called a sissy, but I was never going to be called a coward by anyone,
and if he would agree to dress as a girl for a while then I would - we would
soon see who stuck it out longest and therefore who really was a coward!"
"Everybody knows boys hate to be called cowards, so with our classmates as
witnesses we both agreed to the challenge and shook hands on it without
really realising what we were letting ourselves in for. We both had an older
sister who had been to King and Queens School, so we both had the necessary cast-offs
with which to conduct the challenge, and we both agreed to turn up at the
school gates at nine o'clock precisely on the following Monday, and to enter
school together, which in due course, we did."
"But what did your parents say about you trotting off to school in girl's
clothes?" asked Diana as both girls grinned - "Oh, we went and changed in
the disabled toilets on the way, and since lots of girls at the time were
into crewcuts, we didn't look out of place, until we went to our class for
the first lesson of the day. We were recognised immediately we entered the
room as the class erupted in uproar - it scared us both to death the ribbing
we were getting, and we found our skirts were being lifted in the air by the
other boys, anxious to find out what we had on underneath, as their laughter
renewed at finding we were both wearing the same sort of pink knickers all
the other girls wear!" Diana looked thoughtful - "Yes! I remember Daddy
coming home and telling Mummy about the two ten year olds who came to school
in dresses - he was just beginning to try out his ideas on disciplining
children - and you were his first unfortunate victims!"
"Yes Diana,we had both expected to be given a dressing down and sent home
to change, but instead the master told us to report to Mr. Somers, who told
us we were inappropriately dressed for our boys class inKings school, and therefore
contravening the school dress code, so we found ourselves led off to join
Miss Smythe's class in the Queens school, and by way of punishment, would remain there for an
indefinite period, or until we saw the error of our ways, and he rang up to
inform our parents accordingly, who backed his decision up to the hilt!"
Pauline took a sip of her coffee as Jane continued - "We were completely
devastated by the position we now found ourselves in, - surrounded by a load
of giggly ten year old girls, the only consolation being we were dressed
exactly the same as they were from the skin out, so at least we didn't stand
out from the rest- provided we didn't walk, talk, eat or perform our bodily
functions in the way that we as boys would normally have done, but copied
instead the way our classmates behaved, even to the extent of using the
girls toilets, although to begin with we didn't sit down to pee!" Jane
sighed, "So naturally, we did our utmost to conform and avoid being
creatures of ridicule as we unconsciously aped our classmates, calling each
other Pauline and Jane, and adopting more appropriate behaviour patterns for
little girls of our age! The bags containing our
change of boys clothes were confiscated by Mr. Somers, so we even had to
trot off home after school dressed as girls and in our sorry state, face the
wrath of our parents ." Pauline laughed ironically. "It didn't help that
both our mothers were on the Kings and Queens School Board and fighting tooth and nail for
the vacant position of Chairperson, since they couldn't stand the sight of
each other, so when our mothers heard our joyful news, they each decided
that no way were we to let our side down and cave in to peer pressure in
order to return to the boys classroom, let the other boy be the one to give in!" Of course, we were both ordered to stick it out - which -
despite our private doubts, - we did!" Jane pointed down at her stylish
clothes - "In the early days, we would rush home to change into our boys
gear, but we soon began to tire of that, until eventually, after comparing
notes, we decided to continue wearing girls clothes all the time, while
still complying with the wishes of our mothers, who even obliged by
providing us with wardrobes of our own - so as not to be outdone 'by the
other lot', which we found highly amusing seeing we were in cahoots all
along and perfectly happy to maintain the status quo!"
"Our
new classmates encouraged us to take part in their extra curricular
activities, such as playing tennis and hockey in our spare time, and we were
even being invited to lots of girl's birthday parties and since our outings
with our boyhood friends seemed to have dried up, we were only too pleased
to participate. So when I decided to join in your mother's ballet classes,
not to be outdone, Pauline's mother insisted she did the same. And so for
the past four years we have moved up through the school registers as Pauline
and Jane, and as time passed we developed a firm friendship with the
determination to conceal the real reason for us wishing to dress twenty four
hours a day, enjoying our school days in the company of a class full of
girls, but having to contend with the occasional put-down from bullies."
"Basically it was simply we both had developed the same compulsion,
wishing to have sex-change operations and become two more Evelyns, and
mutually deciding to approach our doctors on the subject, eventually being
referred independently to specialists who suggested some extreme treatment
with the onset of puberty, which more or less brings us right up to date!" -
"But what did your Fathers have to say about your possible treatment?" asked
Diana, and both girls laughingly replied,- "Both our mothers wear the
trousers in our families, our Dads are just the doormats!" -
"But do you mean you can both change into girls, like Evelyn? how is it
done?" I asked, intrigued. "Well actually Wendy, today is a special day for
us. - We have just heard we have been accepted for hormone theraphy, or
H.R.T. for short, and for S.R.S. in the longer term." I was a bit confused
by their answer, so I asked them to go into further detail. "We would rather
not tell you what will happen, you are too young, and it might upset you too
much, and in any case, neither of us has decided yet to go ahead."
But with Diana clamouring for answers as well, Pauline continued with her
explanations. "H.R.T. means we will be sticking small patches on our bottoms
twice a week and taking some tablets which will make our breasts swell, just
like other girls of our age, and as a result we will also develope other
secondary female characteristics, even delaying the moment when our voices
would break. If we are happy with the way our bodies are changing, we can
then decide if we want to completely change into girls, or just remain as we
are and develope normally. Diana was now studying our friends intently. "But
when you were undressed you appeared to have two small bumps where boys
don't normally have bumps - at least, not those sort!" Jane looked down at
herself and giggled. "Oh! Observant girl! you noticed our budding breasts!
Yes we have secretly been buying hormones on the internet for the past nine
months, as you can see." They were proud as peacocks, or perhaps I should
say pea-hens, filling their lungs with air to exagerate their rapidly
developing assets even more!
"But how will you change sex?" I again asked, as Jane obliged. "We will
go into hospital, and a surgeon will cut off parts of our balls and willies,
and in their place will construct little holes, called vaginas, just like
other girls have, which will be used for us to pee through, and also used to
make our boy-friends happy." I suddenly felt quite queasy as the full extent
of their self-sacrifice sunk in! "I'm feeling quite sick!" I murmured and
made a bee-line for the 'mens', hesitating just outside the door, much to
the amusement of the cleaner, before dashing off in the other direction to
the 'ladies', where I took refuge on the toilet in one of the stalls,
lowering my panties and trying to restore my shattered nerves as I trembled
with fear and ached with longing!
There was another shock awaiting me as I returned to my friends in their
window seat, for they had been joined by Tom and James."Hi Billy, sorry you
couldn't come tree climbing with us, but probably you would have found it
difficult in a skirt? - Your mother just told us where we could find you." I
grinned a sickly grin at Tom's remark, and could only respond with a "Thanks
very much Mum!" muttered under my breath as the two boys looked highly
delighted at my subdued reply.
"Diana here tells us you are moving in with her in form 3g on Monday,
lucky bugger, with all that 'spare' to yourself, pity though, you will have
to behave just like they do if you want to stay in one piece - upset that
lot and you might also end up with one or two vital bits missing!" Diana was
not amused, and neither were Pauline and Jane at the way my friends had
hi-jacked the conversation, but they were too polite to say anything. "Look
here guys, for a start my name is Wendy, also my girl-friends don't like
dirty talk, so you can fuck off right now!" "Ooh, get HER James, She's a
regular Madam!" Tom simpered, placing one hand on his hip, and pointing his
other limp hand in my direction, "Lets leave the new dolly-bird to her new
friends." The two boys then sashayed out into the Mall, looking well pleased
with themselves. Dianas remark as they left was understandable."I think
James is quite dishy!" - "I prefer Tom myself," chimed in Pauline, "Theres
no accounting for taste!" sniffed Jane, - "Both a wee bit too young though,"
and of course I had to agree to that! The remarks my former friends had made
did concern me though, I would be spending my next six days both at home and
at school, dressed entirely in the clothing of a twelve year old girl,
intimately and completely immersed in the activities and at the mercy of, a
highly charged bunch of pre-pubescent schoolgirls, it looked as though I
would be paying a high price to become a boy ballerina!
Sunday night dragged by as I lay in bed, tossing and turning in my frilly
nighty, weighing up the consequences of my recent activities, my eyes
focussed on the all too familiar school-girls uniform draped over a chair in
my dressing room, just visible in the half-light through the door, but one
which I had never imagined wearing! In twelve hours time I would be half-way
through the school day deprived for the foreseeable future of my clothes, my
friends, and the boisterous activities I would normally be engaged in,
delighting instead in a more sedate and controlled regime, finding pleasure
in small talk, helping Mummy around the house, being nice to Melissa,
avoiding my Dad, window shopping, the smell of pretty flowers, the tactile
feel of fluffy animals, enjoying seeing gurgling babies in prams, as well as
the way I look, which dress to wear, which jewellery, make-up and perfume I
like, which girls I admire - or can't stand! Which boys are cool! or turn me
on! and a multitude of other pleasures overlooked by the common or garden
boy - the majority of whose wardrobe I discovered earlier in the day had been
consigned to the local household amenity tip by Father in a fit of pique!
Seven days was the figure I had been given, - just seven days of pleasure
or purgatory, depending upon how I would view things - with two down and
only five days to go. But that had all now changed, thanks to crass
stupidity on my part, and the blue flashing light which appeared outside our
door on Sunday morning! Yes! the police were adamant, they had the right
house, with me in it! On Saturday afternoon, Mr. Kelly had parked a brand
spanking new car on his drive and informed Dad, who was just passing at the
time, that it was a surprise birthday present for his wife. She was away
overnight with friends and due back first thing Sunday morning, the day of
her birthday. Despite Mrs. Kelly having informed Mum of my nocturnal
activities with the clothes line, Dad was never all that keen on the woman,
so he let it slip that some paint stripper would improve her new car's looks
no end, which sounded a darned good way of me getting a bit of 'own back' on
my part!
I was hardly going to go gallivanting about the street in my frillies, so
I waited until it was dark and the family were engrossed in the television
before making a quick change into some of what was left of my boys gear, and armed with a can
of stripper from our garage, crept out to the road and up the Kelly's drive
to give the vehicle's paintwork a liberal touch-up with 'nitromors' before
rushing back to await developments the following morning. My carelessness
cost me dear, since I was spotted by some chap walking his dog!
I
started the Sunday morning getting in some ballet practice in the
summerhouse, and preparing for my baptism of fire at school the following
day. Mummy took time out to teach me how to spray-starch and iron my own
dresses, sew a button on my blouse, wash out my soiled undies in soap powder
and warm water, and hang my 'smalls' on the line - and other equally useless
activities - for a boy that is! The wailing from Mrs. Kelly next door as I
hung the washing out did not go un-noticed, but it was during mid-morning
coffee that there was a surprise ring at the bell, and Dad asked the
policemen to wait in the lounge while 'Wendy' was frog-marched upstairs by
mummy for a quick change of identity to be presented to the gentlemen in
blue as Billy, their number one suspect!
Because of my tender age the fuzz could only give me a caution, but as
far as Dad was concerned, I had committed the cardinal sin, and he had
frequently warned me -"Never shit on your own doorstep son!" So having been
caught not once, but twice, he was not amused, especially with the huge bill
he would be getting from the Kellys for a respray! "If you like girls
clothes so much, and if it keeps you out of mischief, then there is only one
answer to our problem!" Despite my tearful pleadings, he had bundled the remainder of my
boys clothes into the boot of his car and driven off down the road to return
half an hour later, before informing us where he had been! "I thought you
were going to take them round your parent's house?" Dad just shrugged his
shoulders "I didn't want your father-in-law to know his favourite grand-son
could be following in his footsteps, - not for the time being at least! - So
what is done is done, and seeing he makes such a lousy son he might as well
try to make a better job of being another daughter instead!" Melissa couldn't
believe her luck - she would be able to enjoy her little sister for quite
some time to come.
On Monday morning I was still in bed when Melissa came in and wished me
luck. "Hmm. I murmured catching a whiff of her perfume as she kissed me
gently on the cheek. "I do like that smell - can I have some on me Melissa?"
- "Tut-tut Wendy, little girls of your age aren't allowed such luxuries for
school, it might give the boys ideas!" Her reply made good sense, so I just
sniffed away in feigned irritation as she left the room to be driven to
school by Dad, who I was told was still miffed at the paint stripper
incident, so I was glad not to have to face him before I went off to school.
"Rise and shine Wendy dear!" Mother called from the foot of the stairs, and
despite my initial doubts, I was quite looking forward to a new experience,
which might be to my liking, so having freshened up in the bathroom I soon
began the meticulous task of dressing myself as a twelve year old girl pupil
of the Kings and Queens School.
Apart from reminding me to put on the training bra, which Melissa had
augmented with some special padding to give me a better shape, the rest of
the uniform I was to wear held no fear for me, so I was glad Mummy had
insisted on giving me some practice the night before, putting on and taking
off such a strange garment, and about the only article of girls clothing I
hadn't yet tried, so it was quite an unexpected novelty to have to wear the
brassiere to school for my first time! It was quite a stylish outfit for a
pre-teen girl, while my pale yellow panties were cut surprisingly high -
almost a thong. My school uniform consisted of a yellow cotton pinafore
dress with buttons down the front, and since I was still too young to wear
slinky tights, I was wearing knee length cotton lacy socks and single strap
black dolly shoes with one inch heels. Finally I slipped my blue, white and
purple tartan blazer round my shoulders, looked in the mirror to comb and
tie my hair back with a barrette before skipping excitedly downstairs for
Mummy's approval.
Thankfully I was taken to school in mother's car. "Just so that you don't
get into any scrapes on the way there," She said, although I was sure she
wanted to ensure I didn't play truant - 'Some hopes in this get-up' I
thought to myself as she stopped the car at the main gate. -"Don't keep
scratching your boobs!" - mummy hissed as I alighted from the car, - "But my
bra is all itchy!" - I moaned - "Stop complaining girl, you will have to put
up with the initial discomfort, like all young girls have to!"- and with
that she drove away leaving me to my fate. Fortunately Somers had advised me
to arrive late, so the school yard was deserted as I made my way towards the
main block. Once I entered the building the 'clippity-clop' of my dolly
shoes was deafening as I trotted down the long corridor towards the Deputy
Head's office, which prompted two heads to peer out from the smoky
atmosphere of one of the downstairs storerooms, and it just had to be Rod
Carter and Jerry Dixon, having a secret drag! "Hi gorgeous" called out
smarmy Rod, grinning from ear to ear as he eyed up this fresh chick in a
skirt who was obviously much to his liking. "Have you anything on after
school, Darling? - Fancy a walk in the park?" But as I quickened my pace to
pass them, Jerry just exploded with mirth. - "Bu- But I know you, you are
Billy Fielding!" After my cover was blown I just flew down that corridor,
pursued by raucous laughter from Jerry and a stream of obsenities from Rod
until I reached the safety of Mr. Somer's office.
"Morning Miss Smythe!" -Five minutes later Mr. Somers ushered me into
form 3g where the girls were having a geography lesson. The girls politely
stood up as the mistress clapped her hands for attention as the Deputy
briefly introduced me to my new class. "Girls, this is Wendy Fielding, and
she is joining you from form 3b of 'Kings' for an indefinite period, so would you
please make her feel welcome and at home here in 'Queens'. She
has a lot to catch up with, so please make allowances for her shortcomings,
and help her all you can,- she sure will need it!" Somers then briskly
departed, leaving me to my fate. "Diana my dear! - Wendy will be sitting
next to you." Miss Smythe smiled kindly and beckoned for me to join my new
classmates while I tried to ignore the sniggers and stares of disbelief as
the new girl took her seat at her desk. I was going to find the lessons
pressurised, with a level of concentration which was totally lacking amongst
us boys who just liked to 'muck about'.
In such a highly charged and competitive atmosphere it was going to be
impossible not to try hard to succeed and be best, both at work and play, so
I didn't have much time for day-dreaming the way I had in the past. In any
case, I was fullfilling the most driving ambition of my life, so my
schooldays were about to get tougher, but I hoped sweeter, since I had much
to look forward to!
Thanks to my ballet practice, my movements were quite graceful and my
voice had sufficient lilt to be accepted as that of a young girl, so in
those respects my absorbtion into form 3g was less painful than I had
imagined, but it soon became apparent that Melissa had overdone the padding,
and although there were some well developed, and some very pretty eleven and
twelve year olds present, none of them could hold a candle to me in one
respect, so I was subjected to some punishing stares!
My white blouse protruded well over the desk-top, and the additional
weight pulling outwards and downwards from my bra-straps was uncomfortable
in the extreme, something I was unused to, so the only answer was to rest my
false boobs on the edge of the desk-top to relieve the strain on my back and
shoulders and shield them from sight with my forearms and elbows; Diana of
course found this most amusing, -"You must use less bird-seed next time!"
was her laconic comment, but I just wondered how she knew?
Breaktime came and went, during which time I kept close to Diana and her
friends, Josie, Debora and Lisa, and I contented myself with listening in to
their converstions, some of which really made my hair curl, not the toilet
humour of little boys, but really vile and disgusting descriptions of parts
of their own, and other peoples bodies and the various ways in which they
may, or may not be manipulated for sexual gratification, and evidently
information gleaned mostly from older sisters who must have had experience
of such things - but I just didn't really want to know! - not at my age, at
any rate.
But that was not all! I had always thought that it was only boys that
farted, since I only ever heard Dad and me fart out loud at home, although I
must admit to an occasional strong whiff when downwind of Melissa - and even
Mummy if the truth be told. So it came as a shock whenever a huge explosion
rent the air of 3g to be followed by the suppressed giggling from my
classmates and the look of outrage on the teacher's face. Not only that!
even though I was quite used to seeing them standing around in groups
comparing the size of each others' boobs, there were other strange smells
and unexplained occurences to which I had no answer. Girls who looked
perfectly healthy would disappear to the sick room to see the nurse, or
would suddenly burst into tears and rush from the room holding themselves
down there, or I would overhear talk of periods, sanitary towels or panty
liners, and even though I had seen adverts for such things on the telly,
they were a closed book to me! When I asked Melissa what they were about,
she just told me to shut up and mind my own business and just be glad I
wasn't a real girl! During the lunchtime break my former classmates in 3b
were busy playing wall cricket, so there were no boys pointing accusing
fingers in my direction, now I was batting for the other side, but I didn't
enjoy my tranquillity for long as Josie and her friends sauntered over to
where I stood and launched her attack. "Donna says you were caught stealing
girls knickers off clothes lines to wear to ballet class, so is it right
you being dressed the way we are is part of your punishment Wendy?" I
coughed nervously as heads turned in my direction - "Umm, Yes - I did - and
yes it is!" Sharon sidled up and looked down at me. "Tell me Wendy, how does
it feel being one of the girls?" She was giving me the once over before she
fixed me with a stare from those dark eyes of hers.
"It certainly feels different to wearing boys clothes all day, and yes,
I do like it." - "Evidently you missed the point Wendy, I asked how it felt
to be a girl - not whether you liked wearing our clothes!" "Humm., I don't
think I can answer that Sharon, since I am not a girl." A satisfied smirk
appeared on her face. "You could always change over if you liked
'sissy-boy', it's so easy nowadays. Think of it - having to put up with
these for real." She had prodded my oversized mounds with her fingers, and
then she even made a grab 'down below' but fortunately missed thanks to the
folds of my skirts. "And get rid of THAT and you could enjoy the monthly
periods of blood, sweat and tears our mothers tell us we will have to
endure!" To a young boy with no knowledge of such things my reply was
predictable, and the girls doubled up at the niavety of my question.
"Perhaps he could have the operation, and then she would know exactly what
periods are about, - until the scars heal that is!" I turned aside to hide
the tears welling up inside at Sharon and Kirsty's cruel jibes as Diana
sprung to my protection.
"Now
leave her alone, she doesn't know about girly things, if she clings to her
nursery rhyme notion of girls being all 'sugar and spice', and just spending
their time trotting around in pretty clothes and playing with their dollies,
or acting out doctors and nurses, then that's up to her - let her find out the awful
truth in her own time, so lets leave it at that shall we?" - and anyway, I
am dying for a wee, are you coming Wendy?" So with Diana in the lead we
trooped off to the loos, but I instinctively hesitated on the threshold
before being forced onwards by the crush of bodies behind me, as I ended up
in one of the stalls as I thankfully lifted my skirt, lowered my knickers
and sat down to pee and enjoy my own company for awhile despite the clamour
in the background. "Come on Wendy, it's time to stop playing with yourself
in there and get back to class." Lisa hammering on the door brought me back
to earth as I realised the school bell was sounding, so I wiped and tucked
myself in, and with Lisa and Debora in attendance I returned to join the
fray and thanks to having some terrific girl friends, I managed to avoid
getting into any more scrapes that day as I gradually settled into the class
routine with few regrets as to my future. Later that afternoon I discovered
that Debora and Lisa were involved in a 'cat-fight' on my behalf, as they
proudly displayed their war wounds caused by 'defending a maiden's honour'
as they jokingly put it - while the visible scratches to Sharon's and
Josie's faces showed how well they had acquitted themselves!
Tom cornered me in the corridor later that day and told me that he was
one of the crowd who witnessed the drama as the four girls fought in an
untidy pile on the school playground, hair pulling, biting, scratching and
kicking each other, keenly egged on by the watching boys, until a teacher
came along to break it up. "I cannot see why four girls fought a pitched
battle over you Billy?" I couldn't have agreed with him more as he
tut-tutted, clinically looking me up and down, surmising what was so quaint
and appealing about a boy in a dress, since he, along with most boys of our
age found it an enticing prospect - to try experiencing life 'on the other
side - but as long as it doesn't happen to us!' - I had no intention of
enlightening him in that respect, maintaining a wall of silence, preferring
to conduct an intense study of my shiny black shoes as I allowed my skirt to
swing gently from side to side.
"While the girls were fighting, I even picked up some new swear words to
try on my friends," - he murmured, trying vainly to maintain the momentum of
the one sided conversation but frankly he was just trying my patience -
"Umm. and anyway Billy, what's it like pretending to be a girl?" At last he
had popped the big question he was dying to ask all along as I looked
straight at him with a cynical smile then glanced sideways with disdain as I
'tut-tutted', - "If you really want to find out what its like to dress up as
a girl," I snapped,- "You could always join me if you miss my company so
much, and then you could share in the thrilling adventures of having our
bottoms pinched and our skirts flipped, or experience the obscene name
calling from the boys, as well as the excitement of moving our hands, legs
and body in as feminine and graceful way as possible, so as to blend
seamlessly with our peer group. - Or perhaps the sheer pleasure of talking
endless drivel about clothes, make-up, pop-groups, schoolgirl crushes and
boy friends, babies, and the other stimulating subjects 'us girls' just love
to natter about, and the constant endeavours to keep ourselves clean and
tidy in the way all our girl friends are supposed to do, and finally try to
compete on equal terms with the girls in our classwork - and I'm telling you
Tom, tain't no walkover - but you are welcome to try!" He smiled ruefully at
my comments as he turned and quickly walked away, no doubt hoping his brief
conversation with me in the corridor had gone un-noticed by his peers, while
I trotted off to my desk to fetch my knitting for the girls' needlework
lesson, although I did feel some compassion for the scarlet faced boy who
was once my friend.
Following the cat-fight at school earlier in the week, the hackneyed
saying that 'lightning doesn't strike twice' was surely put to the test
after my Thursday ballet class with the seniors as we were being fitted with
our ballet costumes for the Paris trip. There was a definite
undercurrent of disquiet in the girls' locker room, as the petty jealousies
between the girls began to surface over who had the best dress, the best
part, who was the prettiest, or whatever, but I think my mere presence as a
newcomer in the scheme of things was ample cause for complaint with some of
the younger girls. Unfortunately for me, my soul-sisters, Jane and Pauline
had already left with Carlotta, so I tried to ignore the murmurings, but as
the clamour became louder and the remarks more offensive, I just had to
listen, although I still maintained my cool.
After one particular tirade from Rachel, suggesting 'Why should Wendy be
permitted to pinch our parts and go prancing and dancing in Paris, but that
the steaming dung-heap should be stripped and thrown out to rejoin the other
pansy boys who fancied themselves too much.' Jenny trotted over to whisper,
"You don't have to put up with that, Wendy, - why don't you give her a good
hiding?"
My reply was fairly predictable,- "But boys don't hit girls, its not
done- not by me anyway!" She looked at me as though I had just crawled from
beneath a stone - "Get real girl! - Take a look at yourself in the mirror
you fairy," she sneered - "Girls fight dirty, not like boys when they square
up to each other, and you are just one of the girls from now on, so no more
excuses, pull her hair or slap the bully down - she has asked for it!"
I just shrugged my shoulders and turned away to continue changing back
into my blouse and skirt having decided to scuttle off home as accusing
fingers began pointing at me for not standing up for myself and getting a
friend to fight my verbal battles, as if innocent little Wendy Fielding were
to blame, but in the final analysis they were quite right, not that I cared!
- I wanted to steer clear of trouble from now on. Meanwhile Diana, Lisa and
Rachel, who was Rod Carter's sister, together with some of the other girls
were still trying on their elaborate satin and lace tutus, under the patient
supervision of the wardrobe mistress, who was quite used to tantrums from
little girls, as she gave me a sympathetic smile of support. I had rested my
foot on a bench as I tied a black ribbon bow on one of my shoes, when Rachel
came over to change, but as she did so I was given an huge shove from behind
which could have sent me sprawling.
I was so surprised that I swung round and lunged at Rachel and the next
moment the the two of us were at each others throats as we grappled each
other to the floor rolling about in the dust Rachel still wearing her lovely
ballet tutu, spitting, scratching, kicking and biting in a frenzied burst of
uncontrollable anger, as our unseemly behaviour was enthusiastically cheered
on by an audience of squealing girls, baying for blood, with Jenny shouting
my name by way of encouragement! Eventually we were forcefully seperated by
Madame Olga and Miss Jones, who had heard the kerfuffle down the corridor.
Naturally the ladies were furious with the two belligerants, and despite our
dishevelled state, - covered in rosin dust, scratches on our scarlet faces,
and - worse of all - Rachel's net tutu all dirty and torn, we were
immediately marched off to the office for a dressing down from Madame as we
blamed each other for stirring up trouble in the first place.
I was feeling quite elated by the time I reached home, having stood up
for myself against a girl for the first time ever, (apart from Melissa of
course, but sisters don't count!). After supper I confided my worries to
Melissa over the evenings events, and whether the other girls would disown
me, but she thought I had little to fear for the future, thanks to Jenny's
intervention and encouragement 'to have a go!' "It's a pity you couldn't
fight your own verbal battles Wendy, the same as any normal girl does, but
without necessarily getting physical - you know - 'the power of the pen' and
all that stuff!"
"But I am not much good with words - I never know quite what to say when
I am with girls, - or with boys for that matter, or I plan in advance what I
am going to say, and then forget, or I am so embarrassed at the sissyish way
I am dressed, and just dry up!" Melissa looked me sternly in the eyes. "Now
listen here sweetie, - it takes some real spunk for you to spend all day
dressed from top to toe in the regulation school girls uniform as a
punishment, and having to put up with the taunts and even the physical abuse
from your former classmates. Then to have the nerve to pitter patter
prettily round a dance studio purely for your own pleasure, learning how to
mince and curtsey with a class of silly girls, which is why I gave it up
eventually, - so I can't see why you get so cut up about delivering a few
measly words." - "I'm sorry Melissa, but that's the way I am made." - was my
tame reply which I suppose at the end of the day about sums me up!
When half term started, on the Saturday morning I was up bright and early
in order to prepare myself for out final dress rehearsal with Madame Olga
before our departure for Paris, so when Mummy and Melissa came downstairs, I
was already halfway through my warm-up exercises, and at breakfast Mummy
discussed what we should do later in the day. "Would you two girls like
Daddy and Mummy to take you out for a meal this evening Darlings?" - "But
Mum!" I protested, "You have forgotten about our four cousins coming to tea
today and staying overnight! They can't see me dressed like this! and I
haven't anything to change into thats suitable since Dad has kindly dumped
the lot!" She looked thoughtful, - "Quite right Wendy! Indeed I had
forgotten, - so in that case, I must treat you two girls to a new dress
each!" It was obvious that despite my pleadings ringing in her ears, she was
now on another planet, pursuing an agenda for her own amusement, intent on
changing the frog prince into a beautiful princess, as Melissa
enthusiastically endorsed the promise of a shopping trip to the mall, but
such an idea wasn't part of my agenda and I suddenly didn't feel hungry any
more at the prospect of my weekend being ruined by four small tearaways!
Madame was including excerpts from 'The Nutcracker' in the Paris
repertoire, so Carlotta's outstanding dancing ensured she was 'The Sugar
Plum Fairy', possibly the ugliest one ever. But her exquisite and graceful
dancing amply compensated for her lack of other attributes off-stage,
particularly her East End cockney 'north and south' and her innate rudeness
and clumsiness. But once on stage she was truly a 'Princess', and everyone
adored and admired her for that, 'but boy, for a girl was she ugly! 'On
thinking about it though, perhaps she was a boy, the same as Pauline, Jane
and yours truly?' So perhaps a little more paying attention in the changing
room next time would be in order?
Later in the day car doors being slammed and the clatter of tiny hooves
in the hall below announced the arrival of Dad's sister and her tribe, I was
upstairs at the time reading my 'dancers' magazine but I had a sneak preview
from the upstairs landing as greetings were exchanged by our parents while
the four children, Amanda - ten, twin boys - David and Brad, and finally the
black sheep - Megan - who was six, rushed through the house, closely
followed by Melissa and Mummy, in order to see our new indoor swimming pool,
while Dad had supposedly been given the task of seeing their parents
speedily on their way to the station for a late night show and overnight
stay in London, and thereby avoid meeting up with the new girl in the house,
for what could be an embarrassing confrontation all round. But the way the
conversation was going, Dad would have been quite keen on seeing me
humiliated in front of those two - given half the chance!
"Where is that favourite nephew of mine?" I must see him before I go, -
just got a little something for him!" Uncle Ben was standing in the hall at
the foot of the stairs, bawling at the top of his voice, while I was
transfixed on the first floor landing in my girly clothes, hoping and
praying that the two of them would just go and leave me to make my
explanations to their more pliable offspring since I had no intention of
appearing in my lovely flowery dress! "Come on Darling, we must go, we will
miss our train! Aunty Rita's request was ignored as Dad had his say, - "He
shouldn't be a minute Ben, he is probably having trouble putting on the new
dress Laura bought him today - either that or he is just too shy."
There was a deathly silence at Dad's gaffe, as our nearest relatives
recoiled with shock horror at his reply. "Did I hear you right Harry?" - An
invitation for Dad to rephrase his answer, something he was unable, or
unwilling to do! "Melissa and Wendy went shopping today for new dresses, now
what is wrong with that!" "Umm. am I hearing you right, friend?" Ben was hot
on the trail now, and my situation was becoming untenable as his voice
reached a crescendo. "Did I hear you say Wendy, and not Billy? - because if
that's the case, I am giving my old shotgun away to the wrong person." But
It seemed Dad was not to be swayed as he stuck to his guns. "You may well be
right Ben, that son of ours has become more than a handfull recently, and as
part of his punishment, Billy is no longer with us for the foreseeable
future, but Wendy is here instead." Uncle Ben's voice now moderated. "Oh I
see, you have an unruly girl taking his place?" Dad could see a bolt hole
which seemed to satisfy Ben. "Y-Yes, something like that!"
"Hang on a minute Harry, you said Melissa and Wendy went shopping with
their mother, and that Billy was having trouble putting on his new dress!"
Auntie Rita interrupted with her two pennyworth to muddy the waters again.
'Oops!' I thought, 'we ain't out of the woods yet!'- "Anyway Laura, I think
we have to leave this madhouse if we want to catch our train - and Ben, -you
can decide whether to give that shotgun to him, - or her, next time we call!
- Say bye-bye to everybody for us," she continued - "Including Wendy -
whoever she may be!" I heard the door slam behind them as Dad
unceremoniously showed them through the door, and I heard him breath a big
sigh of relief which was echoed by me - 'not that I wanted Uncle Ben's old
shotgun, - what use is it to a girl?'
'Wendy'
was a roaring success with her cousins, and although there was some
lingering doubt with Amanda as to who I really was, Dad had managed to
forwarn my mother and sister, and they were able to play along with the
concept of me being some malevolent girl dumped on them in exchange for the
equally uncontrollable Billy! I played my part to perfection, using Wendy's
fearsome reputation as an excuse to shove the fully clothed Megan into the
deep end of our pool, and although she threw a tantrum at the time, Melissa
took on the task of rescuing her, and then changing her sodden clothes for
one of her old party dresses which Megan promptly fell in love with, But I
was soon re-instated as Megan's 'naughtiest but best girl-friend ever' as
she cuddled up to me at the tea-table, much to my dismay and the amusement
of my parents. On Sunday it was a relief
to find Wendy was saved from a confrontation with my cousin's parents when
Daddy volunteered to run my cousins home while Mummy and I prepared
ourselves for our trip to Paris first thing Monday morning - including my
first ever trip to a beauty salon for a proper girl's hairdo and makeover
ready for my trip to France!.!
Having been been fitted out by mummy in my brand new pale blue gingham
ballet school dress which I would be wearing on the journey complete with
all the trimmings , and ensured that all my feminine frills were packed,
Daddy ferried us to the ballet school where the coach was waiting to take us
to Waterloo, as I joined in the voiciferous throng, seeking out my best
friends, and excitedly squealing and chattering along with the others about
the forthcoming trip. Poor old Miss Jones had the thankless task of checking
off her list that we were all present and correct since Madame was
indisposed following a car accident so would be joining us later with Mr.
Somers, although Diana would be travelling with the party. Melissa tried to
put on a brave face as she kissed me farewell in a fond sisterly manner,
knowing that by her own stupid actions I had unwittingly usurped her place
on the trip, in order to keep alive Mummy's dearest wish to have an
accomplished ballerina in the family, even if she did turn out to be a boy!
I thought the next problem might be my passport, but fortunately we were
travelling by Eurostar to Paris, so with all the documents bundled together,
chances were the authorities wouldn't notice the absence of three boys, or
an additional three extra girls to the party instead, and evidently it had
never been picked up on before, so why this time?It turned out I was misled,
as the immigration officer spotted we were FOUR boys short, as he began
checking and re-checking the mug-shots on our passports with a row of
sixteen pink, rosy-faced girls, nearly all dressed in pale blue gingham
ankle length summer dresses, our faces framed in straw flowered bonnets, and
all carrying parasols in our lace-encased hands as he tried to identify the
sheep from the goats, as eventually four of us 'girls' were seperated from
the rest, including a sheepish looking Carlotta as our parents made the
necessary explanations - and so just as I had suspected, our star ballerina
was a boy just like me!
It was quite a shock when H.M.Customs also descended
on our party, and conducted a surprise strip search, family members, boys
and girls included. "Your four ballerina sissy-boys were really caught 'on
the hop' this time," joked one customs official. "Cut the crap!" replied
Miss Jones in a disengaging manner, "these youngsters are now two hours late
for their first ballet practice on French soil!" and she led the way onto
the platform to board the next train, hoping and praying our luggage had
arrived safely the other end.
After the initial setbacks the rest of the trip was bound to be a
disaster, helped by the indisposition of Madame Druon, who was attending a
funeral in Nice, so her deputy, a Madame Giraud, who met our party at the
Gare du Nord was less than helpful in making us feel at home, a feeling of
animosity she tried to pass on to our host families, and thanks to her,
anglo-french relations suffered a further knock! Fortunately Mummy and I
were billeted with the Lanaux family, who had two small boys and three older
girls, all actively involved in dancing, and all were simply charming, Mr
Lanaux being a dancer by profession. Naturally I was introduced to the
family as 'Wendy Fielding'.
"Ah! You must be Billy?" was our host's response in perfect English as he
kissed my offered hand while I curtseyed a reverance, my scarlet face
revealing what I really felt of being being betrayed in such a publicly
humiliating manner. "Your son makes a perfect Mademoiselle, and I am sure
she dances as beautifully as she looks!" - he purred, addressing mother who
was beside herself with delight at our welcome, while Monsieur completed the
formal introductions all round before we piled into the Renault Espace for
the short journey to our lodgings. I was seated squeezed between the two
boys at the back as the girls plied me with questions about my trip, while
the boys maintained an uncomfortable silence, perhaps embarrassed at the
novelty of coming into contact with my quaint attire within the confines of
the car.
Their appartment was a typical parissiene affair of faded granduer,
located in one of the market areas close to the ballet school, with a
resident concierge who really scared the life out of me! But we were shown
into the guest room which had two single beds, and although clean, was
lacking in natural lighting, since it backed onto a brick wall, which was
compensated for by a generous coating of white paint over all the furniture,
but by English standards could have done with a makeover. While Mummy and I
began to unpack our cases, Georges, who at eleven was the eldest of the two
boys, was peering furtively through the door at what we were doing.
"Please come in young man." said mother, kindly, and he sidled into the
room and seated himself on a lloyd-loom chair, but still maintaining a
measured silence as he watched me hanging my girls skirts, dresses and
blouses in the wardrobe,and putting my more intimate items of apparel in the
dressing table drawers before stripping off my frock and climbing into my
practice gear. Strangely I was unfazed by his behaviour, which had a quiet
detachment about it, until he eventually spoke. "Are you really a garcon
like me, Billy?" - "Umm, yes I am, for the time being that is!" Mother's
eyes narrowed at this unforced admission of my heartfelt desire, as Georges
continued his probing. - "I would love to dress the way you do Wendy - you
have such lovely clothes - so 'chic' and feminine for an English boy." Mummy
smiled broadly, - "Thanks to me that is! - He and his sister only have the
best in tasteful clothes that I can afford!" - "Mummy! Please remember I'm
not a He!" I growled under my breath.
"Perhaps we could dress your little friend up if he would like that."
Georges wriggled uncomfortably, "But Madam, I do have three older sisters
not just one, so I should be able to dress up any time that I please. But I
have to set an example to Jean, my younger brother, and in any case - I am
frightened of the consequences of getting caught dressed in my sisters'
clothes, so I take ballet lessons instead, then at least I can pretend I am
dressed up." - "But Georges, why just pretend? Couldn't he come to England
later this year and stay with us and he could dress up until his heart's
content." Which Mummy thought that was a bril. idea! After the evening meal
Georges gallantly walked me round to the ballet studio while Mummy stayed
behind to chat with Madame Lanaux, and since it was another bitterly cold
evening, I was grateful to be able to wear the navy blue coat with the white
fur-lined hood which Diana had loaned me for the Paris trip, but despite my
pink ballet tights my exposed legs were still quite cold, so woolly
leg-warmers were top of my wish list! Madame Olga's indisposition mean't we
were coached by a smartly dressed gentleman introduced to us as Monsieur
Reynard, and he insisted we wore our detachable pink net tutus over our
coloured leotards in order to get used to the feel and sway of stiffened net
petticoats round our tiny waists and thighs for our forthcoming appearance
in the 'nutcracker'. One of the older girls comment about 'Not being the
only stiffened thing she would love to get the feel of during the holiday'
was disconcerting, especially when some of the other girls giggled and
nodded their heads in assent - including my friends Pauline and Jane as I
recalled their earnest desire for S.R.S. and what that could do for them
which they had gone to great lengths to explain!
Any way, that was their affair and I was too young to concern myself with
such things as I put my heart and soul into my performance, only
occasionally letting my attention wander over to Georges - seated on a chair
in the corner of the dance studio as he watched the proceedings and
strangely enough - always seemed to be looking at me! He had even more
reason to stop and stare when we tried on the dresses loaned to us for
Monsieur Reynard's house party two nights hence. My tap dance dress seemed
to be too large for me, but I decided to try out my steps anyway, so I came
trotting from the locker room and into the studio, but as I took up my
position waiting for Miss Jones to play my music, someone opened an outside
door and a freezing blast of wind whipped through the studio and played
havoc with my flimsy clothing as I tried desperately to control my flying
skirts and petticoats while the onlookers were giggling uproariously at my
expense, although I could see Georges was gallantly trying not to look and
save me from further embarrassment! After the practice had finished, Diana
collared me in the 'Filles' while I was about to collect my coat from my
locker. "Who was the boy you kept eyeing up during practice?" When I looked
round I was quite surprised to find she was changing into a brown woollen
plaid skirt and pale cream embroidered cotton long sleeved blouse, having
apparently abandoned the jeans and tank tops for the duration of the
holiday. "But Diana, I wasn't looking at anyone in particular." I turned to
face her as she grinned wickedly, knowing I was on the defensive. "Yes! - he
is quite dishy! - no wonder you want to keep him for yourself!" My hands on
hips response was to splutter with false indignation, - "Actually, if you
must know, Miss Know-it-all, I am staying with Georgie's parents just round
the corner. By now she had just finished putting her coat on, as she
delivered the 'coup-de-grace'. - "Georgy eh? - a very cosy arrangement
Wendy, if you don't mind me saying so, - that's why I thought the two of you
needed some cooling off so I opened the outside door just at the critical
moment - but it doesn't seemed to have worked - you two have got it bad!"
The shit hit the fan as I let my feelings get the better of me and rushed
forward grappling Diana to the ground, our arms and legs flailing wildly.
But it was all over in an instant, my cover well and truly blown as we let
ourselves be helped to our feet by our audience, and muttering an apology of
sorts to Diana before grabbing my coat and quitting a scene of my own
making, my so-called reputation in tatters, 'Yes, there was no doubt about
it, I was definitely just 'one of the girls' now! - physically spoiled and
mentally soiled! - No more pretence of being little Miss Prim, Proper and
Perfect! - I had been tried, tested and found wanting! What-is-more I now
knew exactly what it was I wanted!
The following day we had some free time for sightseeing, so by popular
request we chose either the Eiffel Tower, or the Louvre. I set off with
Diana's party in order to patch up our quarrel, and since Diana suffered
from vertigo, we were soon on our way to the Louvre and traipsing round the
galleries, in company with the inseperable Pauline and Jane, together with
our parents, and had just feasted our eyes on the 'Venus de Milo' when a
portrait in a side gallery caught Pauline's attention. We followed her into
the Winterhalter Gallery where she made a bee-line for the large picture at
the end of the room. It was the portrait of the Empress Eugenie and her
female retinue, in a stunning display of high Victorian fashion, dresses we
could really drool over - even after the 150 years since the portrait was
painted. "There is a little known story about two of the ladies in this
portrait!" Pauline was about to give us the benifit of her limited knowledge
whether we liked it or not, so our attention span was cut short as we all
turned to wander off in different directions and to do our own thing,
leaving just her and Jane still standing in front of the picture.
I was
almost out of earshot when I heard the name Jenny Savalette de Lange, so
while mother continued on her way to the ladies loos, I excused myself and
about turned to clip clop back the way I came, wishing and wanting to hear
more! As we stood ther studying the portraits of three of the principal
characters in Pauline's story, to the casual observer, the tale she related
would have been of little significance despite a generous helping of
political intrigue in high places, as well as murder, betrayal, spying,
assasination attempts, escapes, and even the odd passionate or illicit love
affair. What proof of any element of truth in a story she had been told by
her host family was open to question, but as far as Jane and I were
concerned, Pauline was a darned good storyteller, and it had all the
elements of a Hollywood blockbuster of blood and thunder, sex and lust, and
even spiced with an element of 'deja-vu' - and I even used the story for a
school essay entitled 'The Enigmatic Empress' when I returned home to
England and even won the annual school prize for the best short story! But
we did have a little adventure of our own on the way home on the Metro, when
a gang of pickpockets attempted to snatch my pink shoulder bag at L'Opera
station. Quick-witted Jane anticipated what was happening in all the
jostling, and a dainty foot snaked out resulting in the young thief
measuring himself on the station platform. He was promptly pounced upon by
two gedarmes who quickly releived my assailant of his booty, although a
twelve year old girl is hardly likely to have anything worth stealing -
apart from my passport of course, and Mummy and I couldn't thank Jane enough
for her foresight. The rest of the day was peaceful by comparison, and once
again Georges was on hand to escort me to Madame Druon's for a dress
rehearsal, as he gallantly carried my ballet tutu for me, which had required
some minor alterations by George's mother for the nets to hang properly. So
as I relieved him of the garment before scampering off to the changing room,
I impulsively rewarded him with a light peck on the cheek, which brought a
scowl from Diana, who just happened to be watching! It was then I realised
what was wrong - she was jealous as hell! - not that she ever had any reason
to be - I kept telling myself, but I was going to milk her pettiness for all
it was worth, after all - she was behaving like a cow! Furthermore she
proved it by avoiding me all evening, and stirring the pot with the other
girls!
I was quite relieved when Madame Olga arrived the following morning ,
all-be-it on crutches, because my strained relationship with Diana was
becoming unbearable, and I hoped her mother would shake some sense into the
girl. That evening we attended an open house at Monsieur Reynard's
residence, and we were told there would be a fashion theme to the event, so
Pauline, Jane and I were sporting 'fifties' style dresses. I was wearing my
bright red embroidered 'poodle' skirt over white cotton anglaise lace
petticoats, together with a white anglais lace long-sleeved pinch pleated
blouse, a style which was enjoying a periodic fashion revival with us young
'teeny-boppers', while on my feet were red flatties suitable for dancing in.
My two friends were dressed in flowered cotton dresses with masses of lace
and net petticoats, nylon stockings and white high heels to show off their
legs. Although mother didn't know it at the time, I too had replaced my
tights with a bright red lacy suspender belt and matching french knickers
which grown up ladies wear and 'nude' lacy topped stockings, and I was
feeling really scrumptious, especially since I was in the company of Georges
as my date for the evening!
During the evening, we put on our stage show to amuse our hosts, and I
had been chosen to perform a solo tap dance routine, and even though it was
my first opportunity to dress up to dance for real, when Madame handed me
this satin and lace red and white polka dot creation with matching dolly
shoes and frilly white socks which would thrill the heart of any stagestruck
little girl, but with a live audience on hand, I began to have my doubts!
But once I was dressed and looked in the mirror, wearing such a cutesy
outfit gave me such a kick that I put my heart and soul into my performance
which can be seen from my photographs, and despite the odd misread cue,
because of lack of practice, I was duly rewarded with generous applause. But
Diana was in a strange mood, and as I came 'off-stage'she made a pointed
remark - "Really Wendy! with Georges and the other young boys looking on,
you shouldn't have let your frilly 'step-ins' show beneath your thigh-length
dress - it was positively indecent!" Really she was right since I did feel
rather over-exposed. But what the hell, - it was a dance dress,- may be a
wee bit more seductive and showy than a net tutu plus the trimmings, but I
had been told to wear it and I did - so if the boys watching had a cheap
thrill seeing my gorgeous knickers, so what! I am sure I would have done the
same if I were in their place, and Georges certainly did, because he told me
so afterwards! But I suspected that he would have loved to have been on
stage mincing about alongside me in a sissy show girl dress, given half the
chance! The Reynard's were keen on jazz, although it is not exactly my
scene, preferring instead eurodance music, and some garage, but Georges soon
had me throwing myself into the party spirit as we exhausted our surplus
energy on the dance floor.
Despite sweating buckets, and refreshing ourselves regularly with
alco-pops, half way through the evening nature had her way and I left the
room to go to the loo, only to be beaten to the door by Diana. She didn't
speak, but gave a sickly smile of triumph, leaving me outside to hold on as
best I could, or traipse to the other end of the house. Thankfully she was
surprisingly quick - barely time to pass wind or water, and I didn't even
hear the toilet flush before she came out again, but I was desperate and
dived past her, closing and locking the door behind me. 'Hang it' I thought,
looking round for the toilet - any sort of toilet, desperately raising my
skirt and petticoats and lowering my knickers to 'half-mast' as I trotted
past the hand basin, the dressing table, the sunken bath and the bidet to
the far corner of the room where the throne was half concealed in a tiled
enclosure. 'No time for ceremony now' - and I promptly presented percy to
the porcelain for a protracted pee! I was guilty as hell once I had
finished, but assuming the sitting postion would have taken up valuable
seconds, at the time a risk I felt I couldn't take, and having taking some
time over freshening up in such sumptuous surroundings, I was once again
ready to meet my public! The look on Diana's face was a picture as I
re-appeared through the door where a queue of girls had now formed, but I
was too anxious to to get back to Georges to worry about them or her!
Twenty minutes later the party came to an abrupt halt with the arrival of
an ambulance crew and the fire brigade. One of the French girls was stuck in
the toilet - and I mean stuck! Georges and I were so busy dancing, we didn't
notice anything strange was going on until the music was switched off as
amidst the hub-bub the poor girl was carted away in the ambulance, the
toilet seat discreetly hidden beneath a blanket for the five minute trip to
the local hospital. Then the ricriminations began as the girls in the queue
for the loo compared notes, and fingers of suspicion were pointed at me! M.
Reynard was beside himself with anger and he strode over to where I was
standing, - "Where is your handbag Madamoiselle?" he begged, with a barely
concealed sneer, and I pointed over to the chair where I had been sitting.
"May I?" he asked, as he held my clutch bag in his hand, and I nodded as the
contents were strewn across a coffee table. The tiny superglue tube was
unmistakeable in amongst my makeup, the purse, my latchkey, the sanitary
pads and all the other incongruous contents of a girl's handbag, and his
face said it all as I prepared to meet my Waterloo, while on the far side of
the dance floor I could see the real culprit grinning like an ape. But there
seemed little point in putting up any sort of defence in the face of such
overwhelming evidence and upsetting our host even more, and I meekly allowed
myself to be led to the front door, followed anxiously by the faithful
Georges to await the taxi to run me back to Madame Lanaux as I ruminated on
what might have happened if it had been Diana's intended target who was
carted off to hospital in the ambulance with a toilet seat stuck to my butt
- but thereby hangs a tale!
The possibility of having to return to England the following day would be
a devestating blow, and I spent a sleepless night tossing, turning and
endlessly sobbing at the cruel trick that had deprived mother of the rest of
her holiday, and me of my first public appearance on stage as a boy
ballerina, and sure enough I received a telephone call the following morning
which sealed my fate! Evidently my reputation had preceded me to Paris, and
although to begin with, Madame Druon was unaware I was a small boy, she had
been warned of my wilful ways, and it came as no surprise to find this young
boy was responsible for ruining a wonderful evening and spoiling another
girl's chances of appearing in the charity concert later in the week. My
pleas of innocence were ignored, but not without good reason, so it was a
tearful Georges who waved me goodbye from his bedroom window as we left in a
taxi for the station, while the return journey with Mummy on 'Eurostar' was
conducted in dead silence as I plotted sweet revenge on the girl who had
been responsible for getting me into this sissy state in the first place!
We were met at Waterloo station by Dad, who ran us home in the car as he
and Mummy puzzled over my future. "What are we going to do with you young
lady? - first it's the police authorities over here, now you end up getting
deported from over there! - Where's it going to end?" I coughed nervously -
"Umm, but I didn't do it Daddy!" I pleaded in vain - "And I wasn't
deported!" - "Well if you weren't responsible perhaps you would tell us who
was? - and be that as it may Wendy, you seem to be as much unruly as a girl
as you were as a boy, and you have told so many lies in the past why should
we believe you now? - Even the boy who cried 'wolf' could take some lessons
from you!" Thankfully the cross-examination ceased when we arrived home, and
a mystified Melissa arrived home from a movie to find her prodigal sister
had returned to the fold - though to give her her due, - having told her
that it was my friendship with Georges and how she had seen us dancing and
kissing which had caused Diana to react in such a jealous manner - my sister
did believe I was telling the truth since she knew how sneaky Diana could
be. But I had no way of proving my innocence, unless of course Diana's
guilty conscience got the better of her and I had no intention of blagging
on Diana in spite of everything - it was kinda - honour amongst thieves!
"Fancy you, getting off with a french lad!" Melissa smirked unkindly. "But I
didn't - I'm not that sort of girl!" I replied without really thinking and I
stamped my foot in exasperation. "Go on Wendy what sort of girl are you
then? I bet you say that to all the boys!" - and she let out a big belly
laugh to clear the air, although I must admit I had felt some strange
feelings in my knickers of late!
"Good news Wendy! I have just had a phone call from Madame Olga in
Paris." I had been moping around the house most of the following morning
feeling thoroughly miserable and missing the excitement of ballet practice
and the dress rehearsals for the Madelaine concert when the news broke.
Diana's room mate had found a till receipt for a tube of super glue which
had fallen from Diana's purse. She had reported the facts to Madame Olga and
eventually Diana broke down and confessed her guilt to her mother - hence
the call exonerating me from all blame in the matter. We also learned that
the disgraced Diana had been kicked out of the charity concert by Madame
Olga and was on her way home with her father, since her spiteful and stupid
behaviour had ruined our holiday, put a french girl in hospital, upset M.
Reynard, and also strained relations with Madame Druon. Furthermore, Madame
and Mr. Somers had decided that their daughter should be made an example of,
the same as any other pupil of King and Queens, and would effectively be swapping
roles with me, since she would be returning to school as 'Dennis', and
occupying my former desk in form 3b!
The following Monday at the start of the spring term, a sadder, and wiser
Diana re-appeared at school in her role as Dennis. She had always towered
over me but she was absorbed into the class with little trouble, most of my
former classmates being about her height, and a brief bout of fisticuffs
with Jerry, the form bully put her firmly in the driving seat as a boy to be
treated with respect and she was soon great friends with Tom and James! She
did give me a wide berth though, and it was a great relief when I found out
she was giving up ballet and taking up rugby instead!
Meanwhile now I was one of the girls I was allowed to wear the summer
uniform which was a red and white pinafore dress with a large, floppy blue
necktie set off against a wide white collar, but still with the shiny black
regulation dolly shoes and the short white frilly topped ankle socks,
although in such a pretty outfit I began to feel much better after my recent
ordeal, and my school friends were all agog at what had happened in France
so I was now in great demand to reveal all the gory details, and being
females, they expected to hear every little nuance, but what they got from
me was a heavily censored version, and the briefest mention of Georges!
During morning break I was summoned by Mr.Somers to his study, so
accompanied by Lisa who waited for me outside, I entered the room to find an
uncomfortable looking Diana standing there in her new boys uniform, as she
made a choked attempt to voice an apology for the way she had treated me in
France, before being dismissed by her father and told to return to her
lessons. Then the deputy head cleared his throat; - " Umm, - I just want to
assure you, that after the recent misunderstanding in France, you are
welcome to return to class 3b as a boy, and resume ballet lessons with
Madame if you so wish ,- Umm - Wendy." He coughed awkwardly, averting his
eyes with embarrassment, awaiting my response. But I just couldn't reply to
such a suggestion, as I stood there in stony silence, trembling with
frustration and expecting the worst, my clenched hands gripping the sides of
my skirt, but wishing and wanting to shout out the truth, but unable to do
so, and dreading what he would say next! "Of course young lady, umm - it is
entirely up to you now that my daughter is occupying your old desk in the
boys class, and you do make a very attractive addition to the female element
of King and Queens School, while your teachers are very pleased with your academic
progress as Wendy, - Umm - so you don't have to make your mind up right
away!" As the poor man stood there, I could read uncertainty etched in his
face as I replied, barely above a whisper, - "I will rather stay as I am
Sir, in form 3g!" He was genuinely relieved by my answer "Please take all
the time that you wish my dear, - there is no hurry." His affectionate
response had the desired effect and I could have kissed him then and there
at this joyous news, instead I just burst into tears, and turned and fled
out of his study, onwards down the corridor passing a startled Lisa on the
way, in order to have a good cry in the girls' loo where my friend
eventually caught up with me. "What did he say to upset you Wendy? Does it
mean you have to go back to the boys class?" I gulped back the tears to
reply - "No Lisa, - he says I can remain in the girls class as long as I
like" Lisa smiled - "Well why all the tears." she asked - "He called me
'dear'" - I gulped as I started weeping again. Lisa stepped forward to
embrace me while I rested my head on her shoulder and let my true feelings
flow. "I'm so relieved Wendy! let's go and tell the others" - and hand in
hand we skipped back to our classroom for our next lesson in - of all things
- feminine hygiene!
The following evening, Daddy ran me to my Ballet class on his way to the
his club for a game of pool just as Mrs.Kelly's birthday present was
returned after its respray, so as we drove by I stuck out my tongue in
defiance at the woman as she fussed over her restored treasure and in return
she gave me a withering look, shaking her fist in anger as I leered at her
from the open top of our car. Upon my arrival, I kissed Daddy on the cheek
and made my way to to Madame's office for one of her pep talks. "I must
apologise to you for the way you were treated in Paris Wendy, I know it cost
you dear, but I am sure you will be pleased learn that Georges, who I
understand was the reason for Diana's jealous behaviour will be coming over
to stay with you for the Easter break together with his twin sister." I
couldn't hide my feelings at hearing this piece of news as I squealed with
delight. - "Thank you for telling me Madame, but Georges hasn't got a twin
sister." Madame smiled and put her finger to her lips; -"Well we don't want
your boyfriend raiding the properties box while he is here do we my dear? So
Georgina will be taking ballet classes with you during her stay instead."
Madame then outlined the ballet school's activities over the next three
months as she told me I would continue my classes with the seniors, in order
to prepare for another charity function in a months time, with me as one of
the principal ballerinas, Jennifer and me being partnered by two of the
boys, so as to compensate for my disastrous trip to Paris. - so it was with
a hop, skip, and a jump for joy that I rejoined my classmates at barre, who
were generally pleased to see me back.
Jenny and I stayed behind afterwards to be matched with the boys we would
be partnering, so Jenny was thrilled to bits when she found she would be
dancing with Steven,'Mr.Muscle' as he was affectionately known. I came off
second best with Tony Bland, who's character really suited his name,- he was
too serious by far - but what the hell! - and as Jenny pointed out on our
way to the locker room - "The boys are only there in place of the barre and
for the lifts as far as most of the audience are concerned Wendy, and that
is all they are there for. Even the best ballet boys are just looked upon by
us girls as 'patsy's, while the girls who finally make it to the corps de
ballet are considered the real 'stars'" - My reply was understandable as I
was putting on my flowered summer dress over my practice leotard to go home,
- "I think you are quite right Jenny! - I am so happy when I am dancing with
Pauline, Jane and all you girls, it is one of the joys of being a boy
ballerina!" She gave me a friendly hug - "Don't say that Wendy, you are too
pretty to call yourself a boy, - especially in that lovely sun-dress of
yours." Despite my embarrassment at her pointed remark I glanced across at
the young long legged girl in a shocking pink straw hat reflected in the
mirror, - yes - Jenny was right, I was gorgeous!
With the lighter evenings, my homeward trip after ballet class was never
as scary as it had been in the dark. But I still experienced a feeling of
defencelessness and vulnerability that many a young girl would feel, dressed
in such flimsy attire, as my one inch platforms clippety clopped along the
pavement at a fair old pace so as to avoid the real or imagined attention of
passing undesirables, as I averted my gaze to pre-empt any eye contact with
male car drivers. Pauline told me he kept a half brick in his hand-bag for
emergencies, while Jane relied on a pepper spray, but I couldn't expect much
protection from the chanel 'allure' now residing in my clutch bag, and
liberally sprayed on my skin barely five minutes ago - a highly desirable
duty free purchase made on my way back from France
I was now feeling much more at ease as I rounded the corner at the end of
our road, with several neighbours out front cutting hedges or planting
bedding plants with only the Kelly woman standing alongside her pride and
joy between me and home. I was just about to pass her and her new cabriolet
when the substantial shape of the old dragon stepped in front of me,
effectively blocking off the pavement and the direct route to my front door
as a smirk of satisfaction spread over her fat face! "Ah Master Billy - or
is it Miss Wendy? she cackled - "It is so hard to tell these days with such
a pretty young thing like you!" Non-plussed, I stumbled out the first words
that came to my head - "Umm! - Thank you for saying so Mrs.Kelly, but I must
go, I am late for my meal." Her substantial hand grasped me by the arm
grabbing my ballet bag as she snarled - "Not so fast there! - I want a quiet
word with you Missy - so don't run away like the cowardly sissy you really
are or I will let the whole neighbourhood hear what I have to say, whether
you like it or not!" Faced with such a dilemma, all I could do was stand my
ground and prepare for her onslaught, but she had other ideas as she
propelled me towards her car and pointed the keys in her podgy hand towards
the lock, and I heard the 'clunk' as the catches were released and she
pulled open the door and manhandled me into the passenger seat, closing the
door firmly behind me as she waddled round and took her place alongside me
in the drivers seat, as another 'clunk' confirmed I was trapped inside a car
with someone who, from the smell, seemed to have a serious case of B.O.!
"Put your seat-belt on pansy-boy - we are going for a ride!" she snapped,
and now I was really worried, as she started the engine and drove slowly
down our road without saying another word.
I soon became aware that the car seat was damp, so I assumed someone may
have left the hood open overnight. Five minutes later we were back in the
town centre, parked outside the Oasis Mall, and as she switched off the
engine and prepared to have her say, I tried to open the car door - but to
no avail. "I hope your little trip in my lovely birthday present, resprayed
and looking as pristine as that prissy pink flowered dress you are wearing
has scared the panties off you young man?" I was so relieved I was only too
glad to nod my curly locks in assent, but she hadn't finished with me yet.
"I expect wearing such pretty clothes gives you as much pleasure as I get
from my car." - I continued to placate her. - "Yes Mrs. Kelly, they do, but
not at the moment!" She smiled with grim satisfaction at my reply as I
wriggled uncomfortably as the dampness I had felt on my bottom began to
sting and I realised the pungent smell in her car was bleach. I soon
discovered I was sitting on a thin layer of rubber sponge evidently soaked
in the stuff, which was laid on a thick layer of plastic to protect the seat
from further damage and she read the look of horror in my face as I whined,
- "Please Mrs.Kelly, let me out now, my bottom feels very sore." I think you
have learn't your lesson Wendy don't you? - but first let me hear you say
you 'promise to be a good little girl' from now on." By now I had unfastened my
seat belt and was desperately twisting and squirming to try to ease the
irritation I was feeling in my nether regions as I readily blurted - "Yes
Mrs. Kelly, I will be a good little girl from now on so please let me out!"
She handed me my ballet bag and released the central locking mechanism,
thereby allowing me to make an unseemly exit from her car, but minus my hat,
to be followed by a quick dash, for the ladies loo in the shopping mall in
order to try and ease the pain I was now suffering.
By the time I reached the 'ladies' I was in a dreadful state with tears
streaming down my face as I rushed past a middle-aged lady powdering her
nose and goodness knows what else and on into one of the cubicles, ripping
off my lovely dress the hem of which was soaked right through at the back
with large white patches of bleach. My pink panties and ballet
tights were in a similar state, so I hastily stepped out of them both and
dumped them in the waste bin, although fortunately the tunic top of my
leotard which had a tiny skirt attached to the hem, had ridden up under my
sun dress as I wriggled about in the car seat, so at least I was still
wearing one article of clothing which seemed to be still dry and undamaged.
Suddenly there was a 'tap-tap' at the door,- "Are you all right in there
young lady? - can I be of any assistance? - do you need a pad?" It must have
been the old dear hovering outside, as I moaned and groaned with pain, but I
had no wish to be a victim of her concern over what she assumed was my first
period, so I assured her I was okay and fortunately she took me at my word
and I heard her shuffling away. My bottom, and even my thighs and legs were
by now were red raw from the bleach dripping from my knickers, so I decided
to wash my tender skin with loo paper dipped in the toilet bowl,- hardly
hygienic but the only relief available to me, since I wasn't prepared to
stand in the open and wash my butt and privates in a wash basin possibly
with a constant stream of women and girls coming and going!
I was now in a quandry, since I was now completely bare from the hem of
my tiny skirt right down to my platform shoes, so when I had dried off I
pulled down the skirt of my ballet tunic to try to hide my nether regions,
picked up my ballet bag and stepped gingerly out of the cubicle and into the
empty wash room before checking myself over in the vanity mirror. I looked
fairly decent from the front, - until that is I stepped forward and the hem
flared up to reveal my bright red willy - hardly something I ever wished to
see again! I then stood sideways onto the mirror and only had to lean
forward ever so slightly for the scarlet cheeks of my bottom to put in a
surprise appearance, topped by an unsightly discolouration in the hem of the
skirt of my ballet tunic, so I could hardly venture far in such a state with
bright red sores visible down both legs, therefore an undignified dash for
home in the half light was out of the question, so with my ballet bag
stuffed under my arm and my hands keeping a firm grip on the hem of my tunic
I minced out of the ladies, and without looking either right or left,
shuffled through the shopping mall as slowly and daintily as I dare, praying
an updraught didn't catch me unawares as I made my way to the nearest phone
booth in order to summon help.
Twenty minutes later and I was having a cool shower in the bathroom while
in the rest of the house the temperature was at boiling point, Dad having
declared war on the Kellys as he telephoned Uncle George, a prominent lawyer
in Lincolns Inn Fields, requesting he prepare a civil and criminal case
alleging abduction, common assault, and criminal damage on behalf of poor
little me against the Kelly woman! Mother, on the other hand was more
circumspect, since she realised I would have to be examined in order to
supply the medical evidence, be interviewed by the police and possibly the
social services, and furthermore, support the evidence in open court under
cross examination! But all that Daddy could see was a big fat cheque
bouncing onto our front doormat and to hell with the implications; thanks to
his loud mouth and my stupidity I had made big hole in his bank balance , so
now it was payback time!
And so it
was an hour later after my bath and after Mummy had kitted me out in a brand
new lavender satin nighty and treated me to supper in my bedroom, that I was
sitting up in bed reading my latest Harry Potter book when I had a surprise
visit from Doctor Fleming. He looked equally as askance when he was ushered
into the room by Mummy and after a friendly - "Hello my dear, and what is
the matter with you young lady?" - he then hesitated before continuing,
diving into his bag for my case notes - "Oh I do apologise for my faux pas
Billy, but you do look very nice in your nightdress, and the name 'Billie'
did throw me somewhat." His matter of fact manner mean't my face was now as
puce as my bottom, then Mummy cut in - "There is no need to apologise to
Wendy, Doctor, she doesn't mind, - when she grows up she would like to be a
prima ballerina!" He looked at me and smiled broadly, - "Perhaps you are
rather young to worry about such things, but I do hope you make it my dear,
my daughter Jane has similar aspirations when she completes her transition.
By-the-by, are you the Wendy who was unfairly sent back from France by
Madame Olga?" I suddenly realised our doctor was none other than Jane
Fleming's father and a very useful ally, so having set the record straight
and thanked him for the compliment I willingly laid back and prepared for my
medical examination. "Yes, the skin damage is quite extensive, particularly
round your penis and testes, but surgical removal is un-necessary at this
moment in time, - that can come later!" Mother didn't totally approve of his
little jest as he wrote out a prescription for antibiotics and a special
skin cream to use on my penis before fitting a tight elastic bandage around
my scrotum to ease the pain before allowing me to pull down my nighty and
snuggle down into my bed just as Dad came into the room. "Do we have a case
against that woman for damages doctor?" Doctor Fleming studied my father
through his glasses, -"The skin damage will heal up in a week or two, so do
you really want to put Wendy through such a traumatic experience as a court
case Mr. Fielding? - it will be in all the tabloids, she will have to make
formal statements to police and lawyers and the newshounds will have a field
day at her expense." I think Dad was quite shocked to hear the doctor refer
to me in the female gender but it seemed to harden his resolve as he
snarled. "Mrs. Kelly is going to pay for what she has cost me and done to my
sissy son - and I won't let her get the better of me!
I think my doctor came to regret his little joke, because instead of
healing, at the end of the first week the pain was getting worse and I was
carted off to hospital to be poked and prodded by various consultants. The
prognosis was that the elastic bandage had been too tight and left in place
too long and had cut off the blood supply, so both my testicles were
infected and the infection had spread to such an extent that I would require
extensive and immediate surgery to put things to rights. "You won't be
siring any children young man" - was the urologist's verdict. With this
piece of news Mummy took the woman on one side and after an earnest
conversation with her returned to my bedside. - "Tell me darling, - what is
at the top of your wish list?" I had only one answer to that as I whispered
- "To be turned into a young girl like Melissa and grow into a pretty lady
like you Mummy!" - She smiled serenely and despite the look of horror on
Dad's face she trotted back to the surgeon to deliver my reply!
Despite Dad's concerns about what would happen to me when I grew
up,trapped as I would be in my reconstructed body, and whether I would be
treated as a freak, he eventually gave up the fight, suddenly realising
Doctor Fleming would also be hearing from Uncle George. "But what about his
grandparents? - They don't even know what has happened to Billy!" Dad was
quite right, just in case they should have called round unexpectedly, they
had already been told in confidence that I was being punished by the school,
and because of the serious nature of my misdemeanours, made to attend the
girls' classes, which had Grandpa Fielding in raptures, especially when he
learned I was dressed as one, and although I had never seen him
cross-dressed, he had been a frequent visitor to see what I looked like and
how I was getting along, giving me useful hints and plying me with little
knick knacks for my wardrobe, much to mother's annoyance and he was
eventually banned from calling until invited to do so! As the result my more
recent adventures as Wendy had been kept under wraps in the hope that I
would outgrow my little problem, so all four were wheeled into hospital to
say fond farewells to their favourite grandson before it was my turn to be
wheeled off for surgery!
Four weeks later Daddy was even more aghast when the tabloids carried the
following story: 'Twelve year old Miss Wendy Fielding was discharged from
hospital today after the first stage of extensive sex reassignment surgery
as the result of alleged medical incompetence following an alleged criminal
assault during her forced abduction from outside her home just over five
weeks ago. Looking pretty as a picture, she is wearing a pink flowered dress
and cradled in her arms are 'Vanessa', her favourite dolly and a beautiful
bouquet of red roses , as accompanied by her parents and her older sister
Melissa, she made her way by taxi to her home. Wendy, who lives in Henley,
and was formerly known as Billy, required extensive surgery following the
unprovoked attack by her next door neighbour as retaliation for having had
her new car daubed with paint stripper by Miss Fielding. The neighbour, a
Mrs Angela Kelly, is currently on bail awaiting trial for the alleged
offence. The twelve year old girl will be returning to King's School next
week and resuming her place in form 3g and she tells us she is also looking
forward to continuing her ballet lessons with Madame Olga Somers. Even when
she was a small boy, she had always wanted to be a prima ballerina, 'it
looks as though some little boys wishes do come true', she added wistfully!'
I was so pleased with the results of the operation and that the pain I
suffered was bearable, while the most striking change was to my voice, which
much to my disgust had already began to wobble uncertainly, - but from now
on the timbre would be that of a soprano, so when I answered the phone for
the first time after my return from hospital the voice at the other end
asked - "Melissa? Is that you dear?" I was well chuffed as I replied, "No
Auntie Rita, it's Wendy!" - There was a deathly silence before she snorted
down the phone - "OH - It's you! - Is your mother there?" From her tone I
knew it would be some time before I could play games with my little cousins
again, - but what the hell! - I was now a girl called Wendy - and no longer
a young liar but a young lady and that was all that mattered to me!
Even though I had missed another charity concert with the opportunity to
be partnered by one of the boys, a week after leaving hospital I was well
enough to attend Miss Jones's white wedding at St.Marks church. As a special
surprise for the bride, we were all fitted out in ballet costumes by Madame
to form 'guard of honour' after the service. Most of the girls were 'swans',
peasant girls from 'Ma fille mal garde' and a sprinkling of 'Giselles', but
strangely enough, Pauline and Jane were in 'ugly sister' outfits, so when
challenged Pauline's smug reply was "But we always look pretty, now we can
look pretty ugly!" The 'Sleeping Beauty' dress had been reserved for me as a
special treat to compensate for the misfortune I had suffered over recent
months, my lovely long hair being pinned up in a roll and decorated with a
tiny golden tiara, but I really did feel something special after Daddy
complimented me upon how wonderul his 'new daughter' looked. So after the
wedding ceremony was over, we trooped out of the church hand in hand and two
by two, and armed with canes decorated with multi-coloured satin ribbons,
formed a triumphal arch beneath which the beautiful bride and her groom
processed into the churchyard for the formal photographs. When we arrived in
the ballet studio for the reception, Madame insisted we should change into
our party dresses, since young girls in flimsy ballet outfits and
black-currant juice or coca-cola don't mix. But we still had a lovely time
all the same, as we raced to see who could drain the most from the
grown-ups' alchoholic left-overs without getting caught. I didn't even
remember fainting or being sick over my pale lavender satin party dress
until waking up in bed the following morning, then realising that leftovers
and hangovers don't mix either, - at least not for little girls like me!
PROLOGUE
END
SYLVIA'S STORIES