MY FIRST TERM AT MAIDMENT GIRLS SCHOOL - FOR BOYS!

1. My Dirty Protest

"Wake up young man, we are nearly there!" In response to Aunt Polly's strident voice I opened my eyes and peered through the rain-soaked windscreen, and in the glare of the headlamps fleetingly read "Maidment School for Boys" as the car drove swiftly up the drive towards the brightly lit three storey buildings which were to be my second 'home' for the foreseeable future. I was scarcely given a cursory glance by the welcoming committee, although the headmistress and matron greeted my Aunt like a long-lost friend.

So having said my farewells to 'Aunty', and been handed my overnight case, she disappeared into the headmistress's rooms, while I was surprised to find myself in the company of a awkward young 'girl' with short hair who was about my age wearing a large fussy fancy lace apron over a blue candy striped dress as she escorted me across the school grounds and into one of the dormitory buildings and shown into an expensively furnished bedroom on the first floor, numbered '3b'. My cheeks burned when I was greeted by matron, who was seductively dressed in a long frilly nighty, who dismissed the girl, and then subjected me to an embarassing 'strip search'. Amelia Hudson was sweetness itself, which was surprising, so I stumbled for words when she opened my case, and took out, in addition to my toilet bag a frilly nightdress as she gave me a quizzical look. "Oh, I didn't know that was there matron, Mum must have left it in there by mistake." But apart from a towel, some of my toys, and other personal belongings, there was no sign of my pyjamas. "Well young man, seeing it is a similar style and colour to mine, I can see it will suit you just fine, so why don't you snuggle down in bed in it just for tonight, and I am sure you will enjoy pleasant dreams knowing we are both dressed the same!" This sinister joke was not to my liking, so I instantly declined her offer, telling her I preferred to sleep instead in my vest and underpants.

Soon she had plonked me in a hot bath where I was washed and scrubbed, but when Miss Hudson and I returned from my bath, I found all my clothes had mysteriously been spirited away, so I settled instead for sleeping in my birthday suit. This proved to be a most pleasing sensation in frilly pink-edged satin pillows and sheets, while the offending nightdress, a powder-blue confection, which still had the price tags attached, lay tantalisingly across the counterpaine, since I lacked the nerve to move it. Matron eventually tucked me up in bed and gave me a hot drink before I was left to mull over the strange events of the last week. which ended with an inconclusive conversation on the way to my room with "Barbara" who was evidently in my class but all I could get out of her was a fit of the giggles when I asked what she was doing in an all boy school!

But I was soon dwelling on my long list of misdemeanors as leader of the local gang of hooligans which had caused my parents considerable concern and had led to my now sorry state, since I was setting a bad example to my younger brothers. It was the indomitable 'Aunt Polly', actually our padre's sister, who had caught me red-handed and alone, vandalising the church hall following a dare after Sunday school, and had suggested my removal to a strict regime at a boarding school, miles away in the countryside near Bournemouth. Mum and Dad were only too pleased to accept her kind offer to make the necessary arrangements a mere two days ago, hence my arrival dressed in my old school uniform, together with a few possessions in my overnight bag, since I had been told there was little time for kitting out properly, and since the school summer term had started a week earlier, I was very much on my own.

Before I went to sleep, I searched the room, but the drawers and wardrobes all appeared to be empty, although there was a bookcase, containing titles of more significance to girls than to boys, such as 'My little pony', What Katie Did, Famous Five, Noel Streatfield ballet books, and an assortment of girlie magazines and comics, and an intriguing, well thumbed book called 'Bills New Frock' which I found made interesting reading until I fell asleep.

I woke to the sound of the school bell, and scurrying to the window peered through a chink in the curtain to observe my fellow pupils waiting to line up for breakfast assembly. But did I say 'fellows'?

The playground was crowded with scores of noisy, giggling schoolgirls in powder-blue, candy-striped pinafore dresses, some skipping and dancing hand-in-hand, the way girls do, others chatting in groups, while a few solitary figures were playing alone with their dollies, but all apparently enjoying the glorious sunny morning, while the bright blue ribbon streamers on their straw boaters danced merrily in the light breeze, their gorgeous tresses shining in the sunlight, delicate lacy gloves on their dainty hands; in fact I couldn't see a single pair of boys trousers, either short or long and the 'name dropping' was hardly suitable for boys as squeals of 'Melanie', 'Helena', 'Ann', and 'Wendy' echoed around the playground!

Stunned, I backed away from the window and plonked down heavily on the bed as the door opened and in bustled Matron with a cheery greeting, carrying a pile of clothing. Her eyes twinkled merrily as she glanced at my midrift - "You wore it last night after all Graham?" On hearing the door open I had unconsciously draped the girls nightdress over my thingy, but saved my blushing excuse for a more pressing enquiry. "Matron, I thought this was an all boys school?" Yes, that's right Dear" she replied, dumping her load on the bed beside me." But what are all those girls doing in the playground?" "Silly goose!" she giggled "They are all boys just the same as you are, now hurry up to the bathroom and then you can try on your pretty new uniform and join them for breakfast." - "Umm, but you don't mean to say that my uniform is ---?"I gulped in mid-sentence as I spied the ribbon-decorated straw boater sitting atop the pile. "Yes Miss Brown, I do, it's exactly the same as the other boys are wearing, - now hurry up or you will miss breakfast."

I visibly trembled at the thought but snarled, - "No way will I wear those things, I'm no pansy!" "So be it, but there is no room service here!" replied Miss Hudson sternly as she marched from the room, reminding me that I hadn't eaten for over twelve hours, and leaving me to collect my tattered thoughts. I had soon decided on a plan, having determined not to become just one of the sissy crowd milling about in the yard below. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I found the bedroom door was unlocked, so I went to check the other rooms on the landing and found that all but one were locked.

Quietly I opened the door and found one of those creatures sitting on a chair in a baby doll nighty and matching knickers as she was about to get dressed, and since I was 'starkers' I hastily withdrew and just poked my head round the door as she smiled up at me. "Hi! I'm Sylvia, you must be Graham? I heard you arrive last night - I have been here a week and I am moving into dorm 4G today with the other girls - isn't it exciting?" I had no answer for such an idiotic question as she babbled on "Are you being kitted out today?" I gave a short answer "No way, but have you anything I can wear?" - "You can borrow some of the clothes I came to the school in if you like, you look about my size." I smiled at my saviour " Yes please, but can you pass them to me?"

She glided over to the wardrobe and came back with some brightly coloured garments which she handed me "Theres my dress, some clean underwear and a pair of sandals." I threw them back at her. "I want boys clothes, not girls!" She gave me a cheeky grin "Oh I havent any of THOSE, I can't remember the last time I wore any!" With this news and I dived back to my room as her ironic laughter followed me down the hall. "Well, if he is being punished, he is certainly enjoying it" I muttered in disgust as I began to search my room once again, and eventually I came across a torn and filthy boys uniform tucked up in the corner of a cupboard. So I was faced with the choice of wearing the brand new sissy uniform, lying on the bed, or the disgusting garments lying on the floor in the cupboard. If I had to stay here I would do it on my terms, and oppose authority at every opportunity, - I would make a darned nuisance of myself!

The noise outside had subsided, so I crossed to the window to see the remaining few pupils filing quietly into the dining hall across the yard, before making my own preparations to go down for breakfast. Ten minutes later, fully dressed, I dashed down the stairs, crossed the yard, swaggered up to the servery, grabbed a tray, and piled it high with cereals, cold drinks and a generous fry-up. The servery staff stared in horror and disbelief, as I turned away and pushed and shoved my way through the throng of 'girls' now exiting the dining hall, clumsily plonking myself down at a bench and voraciously digging into my breakfast. It was a minute or two before I took any notice of my audience, as I continued to munch away, shovelling up my food at a rate of knots.

"Hello little boy, I think you must be in the wrong school don't you?" Startled by this intrusion, I choked on my last mouthful of food, as I looked up into the face of a gorgeous brunette as she draped her bottom seductively on the edge of the table and firmly planted one of her long, shapely legs in one of her three inch platform shoes on the bench next to me, while the other girls looked on in silence. "I am head girl of this school, so perhaps you would kindly explain what you are doing here?" Her ringing tones made me wriggle awkwardly on my seat as I suddenly became aware of how uncomfortable my filthy, smelly, ill-fitting rags really were and more appropriate for one of Fagin's gang in 'Oliver Twist'. But meanwhile, all trace of my false bravado evaporated under her intense gaze! "Eer. I'm Graham Brown, - I was arrived here last night - I came with Aunt Polly."

She smiled grimly as she announced "Well it would appear that there has been an unfortunate mistake which needs to be looked into. - but for the time being I would suggest that you join in with form 3g for the first lesson of the day until we can sort this out." - "Patricia, would you take this young man with you to your first class?" My dorm-mate broke ranks and trotted over to our table and as I stood up she took my hand in hers, but I hastily snatched my hand away again, but relented under the head girls' unflinching stare, as hidden amidst a haze of powder blue candy stripes, I allowed myself to be led from the building. I too was beginning to believe that there had been a horrible mistake, and I had been dumped in the wrong place, so a feeling of elation took hold as I readily joined class 3g for a double art lesson to await a swift resolution of my problems.

The first part of the lesson under the eagle eye of Miss Jones was a still life painting of a bowl of fruit, the 'girls' were all being provided with smocks, a luxury I wasn't allowed, which was hardly surprising in view of the current state of my clothes, but my painting skills were marked, and the lesson for me went swimmingly. During the break, Miss Jones instructed little Emily to go and get ready for life class, and two minutes later she pattered back into the room, wrapped in a towel, and was helped onto the plinth by Miss Jones, who then relieved her of her towel. I suddenly realised that something was missing as 'Emily' was arranged in an artistic pose by the art teacher. My eyes did a double, then a treble 'take' - just to make sure! Apart from the tiniest pair of modesty briefs, there was absolutely nothing 'down there', and I began to question the functional ability of the matron. 'Could it be I am at the wrong school?' I pondered, as I renewed my study of Emily, the model in front of me, looking for further clues!

During the mid morning break I avoided verbal contact with any of my recent classmates in case I became 'contaminated' by their influence, while they avoided me for a similar, though totally different reason, as they 'took the air', while I hung around the admin. block, hopefully awaiting my salvation.

When the bell went for the next lesson, I just strolled along for the ride as class 3g made its way to the gym. The physical education trainer looked me up and down and summarily dismissed me with a sniff, and "Sit over there Brown" as the rest of the class went off to change for gymnastics. I was quite happy to wait around for the girls to return, and prove, or disprove my analysis of poor Emily, or more to the point, the matron! It was quite a relief as they scampered out of the changing rooms, and presented themselves to Miss Baker, and the further into the floor exercises they went the more convinced I became that these graceful creatures really were girls, and with all the equipment, or perhaps the lack of it - to prove my case!

After an english session, lunchtime eventually came, and still there was no news as to my fate, so I wandered into the dining hall, and with rather more decorum I selected my meal and went and sat quietly in the corner and studied the pupils more closely. I had little doubt that, despite my tender age, I would have been glad to have any one of them as a girlfriend, but particularly Emily, who was a really sweet looking, slightly plump girl with a disposition to match. They all addressed each other by feminine names, and for their age moved as gracefully as my young girlfriends back home, and with all the hankering after boy bands, make-up, clothes and the other knick knacks to appeal to teen, and pre-teenage girls.

I continued my discreet study as the girls went outside and organised some of their favourite playground games, demonstrating their ball-throwing skills, or playing tag, or skipping, and I concluded that some of the teachers were more masculine than their pupils, which wasn't unusual even in my local school!

After lunch I was sitting in on a history lesson which was concerned with spies and spying. My ears pricked up when Miss King showed us a series of pictures of an eighteenth century lady and informed us that she was actually a french guy called D'eon, who, even though he was a skilled swordsman, was ordered by the King of France to disguise himself as a girl and deliver politically sensitive information to the Empress of Russia. Unfortunately, as a result of his mission being so successful, much to his chagrin he was sentenced to re-assume his 'normal' role as a woman, pensioned off by his King, and exiled to London, where he voluntarily ended his days acting out his part as a Lady of Quality, and giving fencing lessons to the gentry, even sustaining a chest wound as the result.

Still no news on my future at the end of the day, so after tea I asked matron's permission to ring home, and had a long chat to Mum. She said she had only just spoken on the phone to my headmistress, Miss Porter, who I had yet to meet, but the mixed signals she had received so far, ranged from concern over my refusal to accept the school's dress code, to the complimentary reports from the art teacher and the history lady. I explained my concern at a boys school where there appeared to be no boys, according to my understanding of the situation, but Mum was adamant - all the 'girls' were boys and I would have to abide by the school rules, which was the reason she had supplied me with the frilly nighty but I still had my doubts about the gender of the others!

After she rang off, I asked matron about Sylvia. "He doesn't seem to mind being a girl?" Thats right pet, he doesn't. He has been living overseas with his parents and has come back to go to our school so that he can grow into the big girl he hopes to be one day, and a lot of our pupils, even some of the naughty ones, eventually wish become girls permanently as well, given time." - "So we are not all boys being sent here for punishment?" "Oh no, no way, some of our pupils wish to be turned into girls permanently which is why they come here to be taught femininity and after they leave the school go away and have physical changes made, and even train to come back to the school as teachers - even some of the bad ones have done that!" I gulped thinking of myself 'down there'. - "Do you mean?" - "Yes my dear, after surgery we - they make charming ladies don't you think?"

She then pointed to a framed photograph on the wall which showed an attractive girl of seventeen or eighteen years old, superimposed upon which were two smaller snaps, one a cameo of the girl, presumably with her mother, while the other picture was of two young boys, one of who was undoubtedly the girl - but much younger. "Clarissa was one of our star pupils and her case was highly publicised at the time - we are awaiting news on her final operation to complete her transformation, she will make a lovely young woman don't you think?" Her proud boast had given me more than enough to sleep on, so I suggested to matron I might be allowed to go to bed early. "Perhaps you would like to watch the television in your room?" she suggested, and so I retired to settle down away from the sights and sounds of a lot of sissy girls - or boys as the case may be! My nightdress was now hanging behind the door, and my girly clothes were hung neatly over a chair, so after a thorough wash to rid myself of the offensive smells from the clothes I had been wearing, I jumped into my freshly made bed, and switched on the television. Strangely enough, no matter how much I zapped with the remote, although the screen lit up, I couldn't tune in any of the channels, even when I went over to the set in the corner of the room, it stubbornly refused to work, no matter how much I tried. Then, to my dismay, I found I couldn't even switch the darned thing off, because the set was built into the wall.

At last I gave up and had climbed back into bed when the screen suddenly burst into life with a series of images and soft, background music. Although I didn't know it at the time, I was being bombarded with sublimal messages as I relaxed and watched until suddenly the unmistakable features of matron, though possibly five years younger, appeared on screen as she introduced her contribution to one of a series of programmes devoted to Maidment school. The screen then showed what appeared to be my bedroom, and a boy, who looked much younger than I was, being observed through a hidden camera, fitting himself into a boys school uniform similar to the one lying in a disgarded heap in the bathroom. The uniform he was wearing was in a much better condition, still a bit tatty, but if it was the same one, it had certainly had its fair share of wear and tear over the years.

It was then that the matron's commentary cut in, as she confirmed what I suspected was true! Most of the boy 'recruits' arrived at the beginning of the school year, and being younger, tended to attend the initiates form 1b, and depending upon their age, were gently coaxed by peer pressure to attend the girls class 1g or 2g over a three month period. She went on to say that most of the new boys who arrived in mid-term or mid-year were consigned to room 3b, so as not to disturb the school routine for the others, and most went searching for an alternative uniform to the set of girls clothing which could be seen lying across the bed, and would tend to wear the alternative kit instead - at least for the first few days of their stay at the school. I suddenly realised that hundreds of pupils who had passed through the school must have tried on that uniform - at least for a time, and from the way it stank - and the state of the vest and trunks, it didn't get washed for months - if ever - and I certainly didn't claim responsibility for the skid-marks! Meanwhile the screen lit up with one of the popular channels and I soon discovered I could zap away at the screen again to my hearts content.

The following morning I duly presented myself for breakfast still smelling like a farmyard, and behaving like a lout, but my antics were, on this occasion totally ignored, although all the girls seated at my bench promptly decamped to eat elsewhere as I sat down. Matron had supplied me with a timetable for form 3g, and a plan of the school, so once again I was able to tag along with the girls and found myself seated in the sewing-room, learning the finer points of embroidery. This was another double lesson, and after the break, one of the girls volunteered herself as the model, and stripped down to her regulation knickers and vest, but again there were no bulges to be seen'down there'. Since I wasn't invited to participate, I just sat and watched as the other pupils took turns to measure her up and then, using scissors, lining material and pins, they each tried to construct a basic design for a dress that would fit their makeshift 'model'!

During morning break in the playground, my classmates kept up-wind and as far as possible from me, while I busied myself, idly kicking a stone around until it was time to return to class. The rest of the morning dragged by, with a literature and geography lesson to keep me occupied, so my eyes began to wander and wonder, studying my compatriots once more. "Who are you looking at?" Amanda who was sitting at the desk adjacent to mine was obviously irritated with my undivided attention, and as a result Barbara and Nicola the two 'girls' sitting at the desk in front of me quietly sniggered to each other.

Without really thinking, both my hands darted out and grabbed their shiny be-ribboned tresses - which abruptly came away in my hands! I was so surprised that I tried to plonk these alien objects back where they came from, but instead, as they repeatedly screamed, the girls swung round and landed me a series of stinging slaps across the face before Miss Hunter intervened and quietened things down again. The two girls went off to the ladies to repair the damage to their egos, while I found myself on report and later on having to wait outside the deputy heads office with other naughty 'girls', plus a black eye and sore cheeks for my pains, so I was thankful when the bell eventually went for lunch.

2. I Learn my first Lesson!

I was soon seated on my own once again, tucking into a generous helping of sausage toad. The buzz in the dining room suddenly ceased and I looked up to see the head girl and her consorts approaching. "Hello Brown, still here I see, and still in the wars from the look of it?" For some unaccountable reason I stood up, then I studied my shoes as I mumbled that the apparent mistake hadn't been sorted yet. "Well, if that's the case, Miss Porter suggested perhaps you would like to accompany the girls of 3g for an afternoon in Bournemouth. - You can take the school mascot along for some exercise while the girls go and buy the material for their needlework projects." I perked up at this suggestion as my brain went into overtime. "Meet me outside after you have finished your meal and I will introduce you to Bruce."

And so, while class 3g went off to change, the head girl took me over to the security office, where I was handed a lead, to which was attached an animal which hardly lived up to its name! "Make sure you don't let go of the dog's lead, Brown." was the head girl's parting shot, and ten minutes later, I was seated in the back of the school coach, and sensing the girls were about to join me, I glanced in amazement at my fellow travelers as they crossed the drive from their dorm in the company of the sewing mistress. Straw bonnets decorated with scarlet satin ribbons , royal blue cloaks, button boots and frilly pantaloons and white lace gloves are hardly appropriate for late 20th century girls, while the teacher's outfit was a full length Edwardian hobble skirt and cape thrown over an elaborate embroidered blouse, together with all the accoutrements, but they seemed totally at home in their quaint garb judging by their animated conversation!

"Miss, why is HE coming to town! After all, he's not one of us." I sank down further into my seat as Mary, Amanda and their friends made their objections clear. "Calm down, girls, - Brown is being dropped at King's Park and there were smirks all round at this news. I was still seated alone for the journey to town, as 'Bruce', the toy terrier, sat on my lap looking out of the coach window while I planned for my impending escape, hitching a lift back home to plead my case with my parents! I was dropped at the entrance to King's Park and instructed to be waiting at the same spot precisely two hours later, while the coach headed on into town.

Holding Bruce by his lead, we trotted off into the park and over towards the deserted children's play area, and making sure nobody was looking I dropped the dog lead and ran off in the other direction. Moments later I felt the firm grip of Bruce's teeth on my ankle as the dog snarled and shook his head with rage, while I yelled out in pain! I tried kicking the dog away which prompted looks of disapproval from passers-by at the sight of this scruffy urchin kicking a helpless dog, but he refused to release his grip, and it was only when I retrieved the lead that he let go. I then tried to tie his lead to the railings, but he bit my hand and ran off, before chasing back and renewing his attack on my ankles.

I picked up the lead, and then the dog, and dropped him into the play enclosure, but he easily slipped through the gap in the railings. Picking him up once more, I headed for the road outside, determined to take the mutt with me, but as I went through the park gate he began biting me once again - until I retreated back inside the gates.

Despite all my efforts to hoodwink my tormentor, two hours later I watched as the coach arrived back with its cargo of giggly girls, loaded down with their packages.

"Didn't get far then Brown - too much of a handful for you was he?" was the teacher's dry comment as I shamefacedly boarded the vehicle with Bruce in close attendance, as the girls squealed their delight at my discomfiture! By the way Brown, I bought a pattern and some material for your dressmaking project while we were in town." So she was quite surprised when I got up to step forward. "Please may I see it Miss?" - "What is it, a shirt? and when do I start?" Take your grubby little hands away from this bag, you wont be making anything in my sewing class smelling like that, least of all a pretty dress!" and I shrunk back like a scalded cat.

After the evening meal I overheard that the older girls had organised disco dancing lessons for the younger girls in the junior club, so rather than slink off back to my room for an early night, I slipped quietly into the noisy room to watch, as the younger 'girls' were paired off ready for the music to begin. With an odd number of girls, the one without a partner was Emily, looking quite stunning in a pink sparkly mini-dress. One of the prefects came over and dragged me onto the dance floor. "Here you are, Emily, Brown here can be your partner." Emily's face went royal blue - "I'm not dancing with that filthy disgusting creature" was her resolute reply echoing a similar comment earlier in the day, as she turned tail and stormed off. The prefect gave me a cheeky grin - "Better luck next time, perhaps when your no longer the odd man out!" as my embarrassed silence failed to cover my tactful retreat back to my room, devastated at Emily's hurtful remarks, even if they were true - she was the last person I wanted as an enemy! It was Matron's day off so there was nobody to tuck me up in bed, or ply me with hot drinks, so I slid between the sheets and switched on the remote to try and cheer myself up.

The television played the same tricks as before until the next instalment of the Maidment saga suddenly filled the screen. The matron's commentary now covered the 'conversion' of the unfortunate boy featured the night before, as he was assisted in his change-over by senior girls from the school helping him remove his boys uniform, while others laid out his girl's 'regalia' across the counter of the shop. I had no intention of 'changing', come what may, so I closed my eyes tightly and put the pillow over my head to cut out the sound from the T.V. and muttered "No way Josephine!"

"Matron, is it possible for boys not to have 'thingies'?" Matron had cheerily breezed into my room in the morning when I asked her a question that had been bugging me for a couple of days. "How do you mean child?" I wriggled awkwardly as I stood up from putting on my shoes, - "Well, I was at gym class the other day, but from what I could see, none of the boys had a thingy! - and I was drawing Emily in life class, and she didn't seem to have anything 'down there' either! And two of the girls have hair that comes off in your hands, but they seem to be lacking down there as well!" She gave a belly laugh, - " I hear you missed the television screening last night. If you had taken the trouble to watch you would have learnt all about it! - But dont worry yourself little one, you will find out soon enough - Nobody is quite what they seem here, and that includes the staff!"

Her remarks made me glance up at the 'fish-eye' in the corner of the room. "The boy in the film, he looks familiar to me?" - "Next time you meet Jennifer, our head girl you might be able to answer that question yourself! - now hurry up young man or you will miss breakfast, and I have lots of little girls to care for as well as you!" She smiled over her shoulder as she left the room leaving me to ruminate on my future. 'If nobody outside knew I had a thingy down there would I agree to be dressed up?' I shrugged my shoulders resignedly - 'I guess not!'

My total exclusion from the physical activities of the school was beginning to grate, and I was also missing chatting to my peers. My world seemed to revolve around academic subjects, but even then because of my smelly clothes, mean't non-involvement in discussion groups, the nick-name of 'stinker' being readily bandied about, but after another fortnight of such treatment I was getting more or less used to my lot, and I did have nick-names for some of the girls- by way of a riposte!

Then one Thursday morning after break, when the girls are allowed to dress as they please, it was my treatment as I watched during the ballet lesson which really got up my nose; 'I can easily do that!' I thought to myself as the 'girls' practiced their graceful movements at the barre, under the watchful eye of Madame Zara. She glanced over to where I was slumped - "Sit up straight BOY!" Her voice boomed across the room, as the sudden attention brought me down to earth with a bump as she strode over towards me! "Now stand up Brown, chest out! belly in! feet in the 'ten to two position'! deep breaths begin!" reinforced by a poke in my ribs with her teaching baton as she barked out each instruction, while her audience tried to hide their smiles at the prodding I received from the ever vigilant Madame and her drill sergeant ways- "Nobody wilts in my lesson - and that goes for you too - even if you are a bit of a sissy and a weakling!" - 'Me! a sissy and a weakling' I thought - 'no way!- even though I was surrounded by them!' So as she strode off again to continue the lesson, I pointedly slumped down again to watch the lovely Emily at barre.

After lunch I was lounging about on the playing field and watching some of the 'girls' throwing a large ball about when the one of the girls dropped it and it slowly rolled in my direction, so I picked it off the ground and began to bounce it up and down on the grass with my hand. "Please may we have our ball back?" I was asked politely by a young girl in form 2g who had trotted over, as she stood patiently waiting for me to hand her the ball. But I was in a hostile mood. "Its your turn to watch, and my turn to play, so get back sissy and join your pansy friends!" The startled girl still stood her ground as she stared up at me. "But its our ball, not yours!" and she made a successful lunge for the ball, and turned round to run back to her friends, but my clodhopper just clipped her dainty ankle and she ended up spread-eagled on the ground, and once again I grabbed the ball.

Moments later, dazed and winded, I found the tables were turned. I lay in the grass on my face, hands held in a vice-like grip in the small of my back, with this dainty little girl sitting astride my shoulders, my head trapped between her bare thighs and partly covered by the petticoats under the back of her pinafore dress, while the lacy frills on her white ankle socks tickled my face, as she demanded instant surrender! "Who's a sissy now?" she asked. - "You are! -Ouch!" - I yelled, but my struggles only increased the pain. "We might be in panties but we are not the pansies! Only stupid boys who pretend they are tough but are shit scared of dressing in girls clothes in case they are called names are the sissies! Who's a sissy now?" she repeated "You are! Aah! - get off will you!" I tasted the salt trickling down my face as the pain increased. "Come on SISSY own up!" I struggled once more, but self -preservation prevailed over pain. "I am" - I muttered quietly, "Louder!" she demanded, "I am" I squeaked at another twist of my arm. "Still not loud enough, and lets hear 'the sissy' part as well! Who's a sissy now?" "I'm the sissy! - Ouch!" - "Let everybody hear you!" - "I AM THE SISSY - NOT YOU!"

My capitulation was complete and she released her grip, stood up, straightened her crumpled dress, brushed the dust from her bare legs, and turned on her heel to trot off with her friends when there was a shout from one of the windows in the admin block; "Fiona! come here at once, and bring Brown with you." I staggered to my feet, tears pouring down my cheeks in anger and frustration, my macho image as tattered as my clothing, shuffling along behind the diminutive 'Fiona', to the shouts and jeers of "SISSY BROWN" echoing in my ears. As the result of the fight, Fiona and I were put on report, which mean't the whole school would hear about the thrashing I had received from a younger girl in 2g, even if she was a brown belt in judo and while she was ordered to go and have a hot bath and change her clothes. I was just ordered to shuffle off to my next lesson!

The afternoon period just dragged by, as my change of nickname from 'Stinker' to 'Sissy Brown' became common knowledge throughout the school, with a constant undercurrent of sniggers, snide remarks and innuendos, and even the teacher throwing in some crass remarks of her own. Since it was all class work, I couldn't go into a corner and hide my tearstained face, apart that is, from my lonely visits to the 'boys' urinal out in the yard! I went into the dining hall and tried to huddle in my usual corner without attracting attention, but the hall just erupted with taunts and girlish giggles at 'Sissy Brown' having been floored by a much younger girl, so with my stomach churning, I beat a hasty retreat to my room, laid on my bed, and cried myself to sleep. I woke up still fully clothed, and with my tummy rumbling, rushed down for breakfast only to find I was an hour too late! "Brown - off to your class at once!" The duty teacher's stern command had me scuttling off to the science block, where I was marked as 'absent' and once more put on report!

3 Brownie Points - at Last!

It was quite a relief to find there was a games afternoon for the junior classes following on from my substantial early lunch, and since there was plenty of warmth in the spring sun, I dashed off down to the deserted playing field to seek out an unobtrusive wooded spot before the others arrived. I had been lying there for about five minutes when I heard the rattle of bicycles coming down the unmade service road from the back lane to the school.

Unobserved, I watched as half a dozen lads in bright blue and white striped blazers dismounted and hid their machines in the dead gorse on the edge of the road, before they stealthily made their way towards the timber changing rooms and disappeared inside. I knew they had no right being there, and deciding to investigate further, sprinted the 25 yards to the nearest corner of the building.

The old sports pavilion was mounted on stilts to protect the wooden floor from damp and allow storage space for sports gear underneath. The creaks and groans from the timbers helped me locate the boys, so despite the cobwebs and knowing I couldn't despoil my uniform any more, I crawled on all fours beneath the floor until directly below my quarry, as I listened in to their conversation. "Are you sure we wont be discovered Gavin?" "My friend, who's brother Chuck was a pupil at the school says its quite safe, none of the sissy-girls at the school dares to go in the store-room; - too many creepy-crawlies for their liking!" They all sniggered at this last remark. "So you say all we have to do is wait until they change into their sports gear and wait until they are playing hockey then we can pour the itching powder inside their dresses and in their knickers?" - "Yes Ronnie, not that it is really necessary to do that, since even the smallest trace anywhere on the skin will cause irritation over a large area of the body which is why we have to wear these plastic gloves to handle it. We can then follow behind to watch the fun begin as they go back to the school" - "Its so potent once it gets warm it takes a day to wear off unless you use the antidote - which is a lump of ice from the fridge, I deny anyone being able to stand the itching for long without taking all their clothes off. Stuart here will be ready with his camera!"

They renewed their muffled sniggers. "Look, we can even bolt the door from the inside when we hear them coming, see" I heard a scraping noise as the bolt was drawn to and fro. "Think of all those sissies, scratching about in their knickers and then ripping them off!" There was renewed laughing as they congratulated themselves on such an original idea to earn brownie points back at base.

"By the way Neville, what happened to your friends brother?" The other boy laughed "Oh, Chuck used to come home in his sissy school uniform and parade around all the time in pretty, flowery dresses and wanting to be called Marilyn, but he totally ignored the ribbing he received. Everyone was scared of going near him including me - in case we got the same obsession and ended up like him - or her as she is now! - He went into hospital for a while and had some alterations done - so she will never be the same again - and Marilyn is still at the school I believe." - "Cor - fancy that! - ending up as a young dolly-bird!" Neville snorted "Why I do believe that perhaps you would like to be a girl like Marilyn, given half the chance, Georgy - or is it Georgina?" There were howls of rage as the boy reacted to the ribbing, the way boys do, followed by a thump as bodies hit the floor, and I assumed some fighting had broken out above by head as clouds of dust seeped through the floorboards, filling the air and forcing me to stifle a sneeze. "That's enough you two - otherwise we may get caught and not be able to complete the dare as planned - so cool it!" Peace was again restored and the lads resumed whispering in undertones to await the arrival of their prey.

By now I was almost tempted to quit my hideout to join them and help in their enterprise, having heard what happened to poor Chuck, but after all, this was my school for the time being, and little Fiona had given me a bloody good hiding which I well deserved, so perhaps, I really was the sissy after all! I crawled out from under the building and went round to the far side and clattered up the steps making as much noise as I could, thumping my shoes on the bare boards as I opened the door and went in. Even in the gloom with the lights out I ran along the corridor and soon found what I was looking for. Fortunately there was a bolt outside the store room door and I quietly slid the bolt into its housing and then slipped away to warn the others.

Mary, Emily and several of my classmates were already making their way down to the sports field as I rushed up and breathlessly explained about the boys and their proposed panty raid, and the fact they were now locked in the store-room. "I think 'Sissy Brown' is making the story up out of spite after his beating from Fiona yesterday - don't you girls?" The other girls agreed wholeheartedly with Emily's assessment of the situation as they continued on their way, while I went on back to the school, and anyway, the girls couldn't come to any harm now!

I spent another miserable, lonely evening in my room, with just the television for company. Again I was bombarded with images of the school and its ambiguous teachers and pupils, its background, achievements, and future aims before finally succumbing to sleep, and round about midnight being disturbed briefly by police sirens in the road outside.

Before breakfast the following morning I was summoned to the Headmistress. "Well Brown, I do not normally meet my little charges until they have converted to the school dress code, but I am making an exception in your case, since I have to ask you some questions." - "Late last night, we had reports from the police that six boys from St. Mary's school were missing." "Eventually their bicycles were found on the edge of our playing field and they were finally found having been locked in the sports building. Obviously they were up to some prank or other, but I understand from your classmates that you knew something about it?" I now had the chance to escape from the school's clutches, so I took it with both hands. "Yes Headmistress, I happened see them arrive on their cycles but I don't think they were planning anything, and I just locked them in as a joke - so it was all my fault the police were called!"

She was sceptical at my bald statement of guilt. "Now my dear, I am sure there was more to it than that, and it's not the first time my 'girls' have had problems with boys from St. Marys, and you might know what they were up to, after all, they were trespassing and in the wrong, so why don't you stop being called the school sissy for once and tell the truth!" Her smirk as she finished her sentence told it all as to my current standing in the school! - Anyway, I had no idea as to what, or whether the boys had confessed to anything, and since other St. Mary pupils might try a similar prank I told her all I knew. "If that is all they tried to do I am much relieved. - One year they played Peeping Tom when my girls were showering and bathing, then threw all their clothes in the water with them before running away - there were tears of course!"

Having finished her interview she waved me away with her hand, as she re-inforced her current opinion of me. Thank you for that Brown, and this conversation need go no further, your actions won't be forgotten when you finally stop behaving like the school sissy and conform to our regulations, and we can have another chat then." My legitimate attempt to escape from the school regime had ended in failure but later in the day I made a point of going to the sports pavilion to see if St. Mary's boys had forgotten their potent itching powder when they were freed by the local constabulary - fortunately they had and I even retrieved the plastic gloves and purloined a tube of superglue, evidently used for repairing sports gear, which might come in useful one day!

My reception at breakfast was much friendlier as news of my exploit spread, although my compatriots still kept their distance! and I was still excluded from their ball games, and disallowed special privileges! But at least Emily was talking to me once again as she and Mary trotted over to apologise for not believing my story and to thank me by my actions, for saving them from the St. Mary's boys. "I hear you will soon hold the record for defying the dress code!" was her passing remark, but as my pungent smell reached her, she and Mary scuttled off back to rejoin her friends! After dinner that evening I decided to wash my dark grey vest and pants in the wash basin with toilet soap to try to get rid of some of the dreadful smells.

4. My Capitulation.

Matron had stayed away for a couple of days so it was no surprise when she bustled into the room and with my hot drink and watched as I hung my underwear over the radiator to dry."So you decided to take the plunge then?" I glanced down at my lace cotton nightdress. "I know why you are wearing it at the moment, child, but do you really mind wearing it, and can you see yourself dressed the same as the other students?" I hesitated before giving a straight forward and honest answer. " I don't mind wearing this nighty thing, I hate parading round naked, and it does look and feel much nicer than 'jimjams', but I dont think I want to go around dressed as a girl and called a Sissy!" I stroked the delicate fabric with my fingers; - "And you are the only one that knows about my nighty!" Matron gave a theatrical cough - "I thought you were already being called 'Sissy Brown', which has nothing to do with the way you are dressed?" - "Oh! I hadn't thought of it that way, Matron!" She smiled blithely- "Well I think that needs some explaining, dont you?" - "and anyway, what about, that - up there?" I didn't look, but her meaning was clear as I reddened, realizing that I wasn't the first boy used as a video floor show during the long winter evenings!

Matron then renewed her probing -"By the way, in three days you will set the record for holding out against the dress code! Only one other boy stands between you and that record; do you have any idea who it is!" I didn't know and didn't care - it was a record about to be broken, and she was going to tell me anyway so what's the odds! "It was Emily, the little girl in the life class, she currently holds that dubious record, and she was much more trouble than you ever have been! She ran away twice, vandalised the art room, and punched several of the teachers - and that was just for starters, - the little darling!"

Matron giggled, enjoying the thought of any form of violence from Emily nowadays, nor any from the other girls who had been sent here for training come to that; although being normal children, they still got into scrapes! "Emily, just like you, and all the other disruptive boys, are the most difficult, and sensitive, to 'primary conversion', but once achieved, you may never want to change back, but with expert help, grow into pretty teenagers, with full womanhood your ultimate goal." I gasped- "You must be joking!" - but she just smiled grimly; "Exactly my sentiments long ago, but look at me now? a silly middle-aged woman in a crisp nursing dress, wearing unfashionable flatties perfectly happy with what I have become, and the delightful memories of my more decorative past, stored 'up there!"

I was stunned at her news, but more concerned with Emily's long fight against 'primary conversion' whatever that might mean, and since I wanted her as a friend, what would she think of me if I took her record away from her, no matter how irrelevant that achievement may have been; - This was a defining moment for me, as I glanced over to the half open wardrobe door, where a fresh, clean pinafore dress hung invitingly on it's hanger. So after Matron tucked me up in bed and put the lights out and left the room, and without anyone knowing, I decided, just out of curiosity mind, to try an experiment! I jumped out of bed and removed my nighty and with the aid of the half-light from the window overlooking the yard, I retrieved what I would need from the chest of drawers, and was soon tentatively stepping into a pair of schoolgirl knickers. As I pulled them up my legs and thighs to round my tummy and neatly arranged the elasticated legs of the knickers, ridiculous though it must have seemed to the casual observer, I felt a peculiar sensation of fear and elation throughout my trembling body as though I was stepping over a thresh-hold, and into a new life.

With feverish haste I soon arrayed myself in a lacy vest thing, which reached down to just above my knees, a white linen blouse, and finally the schoolgirl's dress hanging in the wardrobe, although at my first attempt I put it on back to front. I then sat down on the bed and put on the short white socks, and the shiny black shoes with a strap across the instep which I found on the shoe rack in the wardrobe, and then went over to the dressing table mirror to view the effect. Despite obvious shortcomings I was pleasantly surprised at the result and so enjoyed the next two hours thus dressed, while contemplating my predicament, eventually deciding to sleep on it!

"Three - two - one - go!" - with no matron on hand to coerce me as I fail for the fortieth time - "Three - two - one - go!" -"Oops!" - A trembling lace-encased hand tries to turn the brass handle, and tug open the heavy door to my room; but the door resists firmly! "Try again! - Three - two - one - go!" With legs astride both hands now apply pressure to the door; - it squeaks! - it gives! - it opens! The hall appears empty. "Three - two - one !" - "Oh No! I must go!" - Hesitation as heart pit-a-pats, pulsating beneath heaving powder-blue candy stripes, "Three - two - one - go!" Head held high in perfect posture, don't think, just walk! - Gulp! Throat dry from the slight sweet smell of scent, stomach churning - beneath unseen, fettered delights, as bare, lily-coloured legs with their frilly ankle decorations shake like jelly; "Three - two - - -!" Please walk! Tip -tap, - TTip -tap , as my tiny, shiny black sissy 'mary-janes' tentatively tip-toe testing the corridor! Clip - clop, Clip - clop, daintily down the stairs, permitting bare knees to peep provocatively beneath hems of the flaring skirts of my freshly ironed pinafore dress, my lace glove sliding along slippery mahogany banister, steering me to safety in the hall below! Pitter - patter, Pitter - patter, head - heart - heels and hands hurry into the empty play -ground where early morning frost feasts on fear! - "Why am I here?" - "Why am I her?" - "Why me?" - "Turn to flee? No! - Face my fear don't run away! - and await friendly, smiling faces to fill me with fortitude to face the day!"

"Easier said than done" I murmur, my morale ebbing away as rapidly as my pathetic attempts at poetry, as I find myself standing in the chilly, deserted playground, the bare expanses of my unprotected legs shivering endlessly from beneath the elastic leg holes of my powder blue cotton knickers to the tops of my frilly ankle socks, while my short blazer, thin pinafore dress, and other peculiar trappings offer little additional protection from the hoar frost, despite the early morning sun, dwelling on matron's assurance that I would be warm enough. She had bustled into my room barely an hour earlier, catching me in bed wearing my nighty. "Ready for the change-over then Missy?" she enquired knowingly, and the die was cast, and now thanks to her expertise - I stood shivering on the thresh-hold of a new life. "Where do I put my hands?" I asked myself once again, as they missed the safe haven of my trouser pockets as I recalled the hero of 'Bill's New Frock', and my cold hands hugged my elbows instead. The straw boater, balanced perilously atop the tumbling tresses of my light brown wig only re-inforced my opinion of being a bit of a prat, but that's exactly what I was with my nose beginning to 'drip-drip' in the cold. So taking this silly little bag thing hanging limply from my wrist, I rummaged around amongst makeup bag, purse, strange looking pads and so on until I found a lace hanky to clear my snuffles, but it was so tiny that I could only keep dabbing ineffectually at my nose, in the same way I had seen my mother do in the past. Another thought struck me. "If my brothers could see me now - reckon they would die laughing! But they can't, and won't! so that's alright -Oh - but others can though!"

I was now hopping from one foot to the other, trying to work up the circulation and stop my frozen legs from trembling, and my hungry tummy from rumbling, but also because all of a sudden I desperately needed to go to the toilet - 'but which one?'- debating what to do next without looking a complete idiot. 'But I do - dressed like this!' I thought to myself glancing at the bright sunlit image of this little girl in a dress prancing and dancing as reflected in the glass door of the dormitory building.

I turned away disgusted with myself for allowing such a 'conversion' thing to happen, to me of all people! - but then stole another glance in the door - just to make sure it really was me as she gave a enigmatic smile in return! I turned away again in horror as I realised I really empathised what I had seen - and then looked again, just to be sure! 'Yes she was still there, her eyes full of fire and vitality!' I forced myself to look away once more.

But this time no matter how I tried to avert my eyes, my gaze was drawn for one final time, knowing I would no longer look away, my fate decided for me, - trapped by a girl's image in a glass door! Daintily raising my skirts in my lace-encased fingers I turned full circle first one way- then the other as she gently shook those ribbon bound tresses - I realised the girl looking back at me was no sissy, she was too pretty! - and she was no idiot, she was too knowing and alive - though perhaps a wee pigeon-toed!- In fact I was everything I wanted in a girl!- Me! of all people, a ragged arsed smelly boy one minute, a substitute young girl head over heels in love with her substitute reflection in a substitute mirror the next!

"I can't go on with this? - I must go back and change, - but into what? the filthy uniform I stupidly wore had been spirited away. - I shouldn't be doing this? - but I had agreed of my own free will! - Promises can be broken? - but what would my classmates think? - oh! to hell with them! " And I still had to confront my classmates - but not right now thank you! - at least not with mind and body in turmoil. Instead I addressed my most pressing need, and dashed into the outside boys toilet to present myself to the boys urinal, and afterwards, with considerable difficulty, trying, without success to re-arrange my clothing the way it was before and then trotting outside to continue my narcissistic appraisal in the glazed door!

The noise from the dining hall had already confirmed the girls were at breakfast, but I heard young voices approaching from round the corner of my dormitory and I streaked, hell for leather, back into the boys'. Please would you come outside Brown, you are not allowed in there, its for boys only! - You must use the 'girls' from now on!" Jennifer, Head girl, and former video 'star' had trotted over and was looking at me through the doorway, "and there is no need to hide any more, you are no longer the school Sissy, but one of us now!" Well I only had one answer to that as certain doubts set in! "But Jennifer, do I look nice?"- She looked me up and down, shrugged her shoulders and gave me a flashing smile "You new girls are all the same! -Always worried about impressing the boys! - Yes, you are pretty enough! You will pass! - Now come along with me young lady!"

So with cheeks aglow with embarrassment and elation I followed her outside to where the other prefects were now congregated. "Come on girls, Brown can join us for breakfast, - she must be famished waiting out here in the cold," and as her classmates crowded round, we wended our way towards the dining hall as I tried to sneak another look at the pretty girl in the glass door, but all I could see now was a group of young school-girls walking by! But my visit to the toilet reminded me of the importance of always 'tucking', as I recalled my precise, pigeon-toed progress from the dorm to the playground, a vision now completely ruined by an old friend broadcasting its presence despite the folds in the front of my skirt as I trotted awkwardly towards the dining hall trying to use my hands as an inadequate shield. Thankfully despite my scarlet face, only a few heads turned when I sat with the prefects, the other girls were too busy eating to notice little me that much since I felt uncomfortable with the lack of skills in handling my skirts and general body language which could hardly change overnight.

"Matron will be kitting you out in the school shop after lunch - so take a friend or two with you to help." Breakfast had nearly finished when Jennifer rose from her seat and clapped her hands - "Girls! We have an addition to the school today," She gestured in my direction - "Miss Brown will officially take her place in form 3g." Meanwhile, one of the junior girls trotted over with a small box which she held out in my direction. "Now Graham, you have to adopt a new forename while you are a pupil here, so please take a slip of paper from the box, and read out the name" I did as I was told, my clumsy mit shooting out and grabbing willy nilly not just one, but a fistful of names. "Just take one Brown - using the tips of your fingers" whispeered Jennifer and so I received my first lesson in polite behaviour as I did as I was told and read out the name "Zoe". "Very good Zoe, that is your new name from now on." She tapped on the dining table for attention. " School, this is Zoe Brown!"

Astonished at such a turn of events I stood up "But I dont want to be called THAT!" I replied, amidst gasps from my impromptu 'audience', "Don't I get to choose my own name?" and I stuck my chin out determinedly and declared. "I would like to be known as Susan." Jennifer smiled "So be it, young lady, - Correction girls, this is Susan Brown, who will take her place in form 3g, and I will inform the school secretary accordingly."

Jennifer turned and embraced me, whispering, "That's the spirit! I like a girl with spunk!" I reddened slightly. "Hardly likely if I'm ever to be a real girl, - not that I am old enough for that yet!" - Jennifer squeezed my hand - "We might have to be GIRLS, but that doesn't mean being WIMPS, does it?" Then to my embarrassment, in front of the whole school, she planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek! But then the other girls crowded round until I felt more like a wet sponge than a rookie schoolgirl!

When I arrived in my classroom I went over to sit in my usual place in the far corner of the room, but Emily patted her bench and called out - "Susan, come and sit next to me." -and as I took my new place she squeezed my hand. "Thank you for what you did this morning, now you will always be my number one friend." - "I didn't want to spoil your record." I replied huskily, as she gave me a wicked smile - "But that wasn't what I was thanking you for - but for the way you are now dressed like me silly! Actually, you were set up, thanks to me and Miss Hudson! - I never held the record for holding out against the system! - a girl called 'Polly' did, many years ago. You couldn't remain in limbo forever - so I just gave you a shove, that's all!" -" And you look very nice in your pinafore dress - this colour certainly suits you, and you do have lovely legs - it was a shame to hide them up in those disgusting trousers of yours."

I thanked her for her generous praise as we hugged and giggled together with relief that we were friends once more, although I noticed Amanda giving us dirty looks from across the room while a hard stare from Miss Haydon, our French mistress brought us back to reality, as we split and began to pay attention to the lesson.

"Susan Brown! please look at your colleagues and try to adopt their way of sitting, - that is not how to sit in a dress, and we do not have our arms and elbows splayed out across our desks, do we girls?" "No Miss Haydon." - "We keep our elbows close to our sides and place our hands in sweet repose either or in our laps or on our desks, don't we girls?" Yes Miss Haydon."

The teacher was now standing alongside my desk; "And Brown - Our legs are slender pedestals, a vital support for every artistic floral arrangement, and used in similar vein, to complement the hairstyle or head-dress framing our feminine faces and the drapery we use to decorate our shapely bodies, so we do not sit with our legs wide apart and with our feet planted firmly on the floor like a couple of tree trunks - do we girls?" - "No Miss Haydon" was again the well rehearsed response. "Mary, please demonstrate!" and I watched as Mary stood up from her desk, curtseyed, and gracefully sat down again planting her bottom gently on the bench and with her legs pressed firmly together, she lifted her ankles off the floor, and slowly swiveled round, placing just the tips of her mary janes on the floor beneath the bench, her bottom balanced on the edge of the bench as she settled her hands gently in the skirts of her lap.

"Very good Mary, now Susan, stand up, and you can try it out for yourself." I clumsily tried to stand up, but the front my dress caught on the desk lid as I then shuffled sideways in order to get out of the trap. This was followed by a loud 'bang' as my desk-lid slammed shut again to the amusement of the rest of the class. "Now that wasn't very clever of you, was it Susan? - Now please try to sit down with a little more decorum". I centred my bottom over the edge of the bench and slowly sat down before lifting my legs high in the air and energetically swinging them sideways until the bare flesh struck the edge of the desk with a thump, while my squeals of pain brought more hilarity from the girls. "After that humbling experience, I think you will have to stay behind and have some more practice, don't you?" My pained expression showed what I thought of that idea, but all the same I mumbled "Yes Miss Haydon."

During lunch hour I rang Mummy and told her the good news, about my new name, my lovely new clothes, my friends and potential enemies, and she promised to come down at the end of the week to celebrate - as long as she came on her own of course - (I didn't want those brothers of mine taking the piss until I had time to acclimatize to my new identity!)

Kitting out was interesting, and fun, as with Emily and Mary helping, and Matron, the shop lady and two girl prefects looking on, I tried on the uniform which I would be wearing for the rest of my time at Maidment. My kit, which was packed into a large cabin trunk, and taken to my new dorm by Fred the caretaker, included the regulation underwear, knickers, lacy vests, shiny satiny slips, training bras, as well as smocks, powder blue ballet practice outfit and slippers, white embroidered tennis dress and matching panties, hockey kit, and of course, my 'Sunday Best' - the quaint Maidment uniform, and finally name tags to sew on all my belongings during sewing class.

My earlier problems in the boys urinal soon came to light as I stripped off my pinafore dress, and both the girls and ladies present had a fit of the giggles! "What on earth Susan dear, is that lump in the front of your knickers?" I turned away to conceal the evidence, as Matron continued "Now young lady, you see what you missed on the video, and you failed to follow closely in your lesson this morning." To save my blushes, Matron took me into the changing room and once again demonstrated the basic skill of 'tucking', as with her help, I felt my 'doo-dahs' disappear into the cavity in my abdomen, while my 'thingy' was pulled backwards between my legs, and covered with a lacy pair of briefs to entrap everything in its proper place, simple as that and not a blemish in sight even before I put on my pale blue knickers!

I also tried on the training bra, which I was told would be useful in keeping my breasts in shape and stop them flopping about later on; so the choice remark of "Keep taking the tablets" from young Mary had the two prefects glancing involuntarily at their developing mounds which had obviously needed more than a pair of training bras to produce! Finally, with a brand new boy-girl dolly nestling in my arm, (a secret surprise present from Mummy), I was taken over to dorm 3g, situated on the ground floor of the admin building and shown where I would be sleeping from now on, and where my cabin trunk of goodies was already awaiting my arrival, and with help from my two friends, my dresses and outer garments were neatly arranged on hangers in my wardrobe, while more personal, intimate things were stored away in my dressing-table. With Emily sleeping on one side, and Amanda the other side of my bed space, I sensed there could be potential conflict between us girls, but before I could dwell on this further, we were ushered back to class just in time for our next lesson.

5. My Humiliation

Miss King was the most attractive and well dressed teacher in the school, and was in charge of form 3g, and she was also taught us tennis, a subject I excelled in at my previous school, but I was told she did lose her rag occasionally. I understood she had some quite novel ideas for the punishment of little girls who misbehaved. She was taking us for a Geography lesson, and since several of us girls had a puppy-love crush on her, I took Miss Haydon's advice, and perched daintily on the edge of my bench, thighs pressed gently together, the tips of my toes lightly touching the floor beneath the bench, and my hands folded neatly in my lap.

I really felt comfortable, alive, and happy with the feel, texture and appearance of my lovely schoolgirl's uniform, and privileged to be dressed in the same way as my classmates were dressed, and keenly aware of the marked improvement in my attention span, wishing and endeavouring just for once to be 'teacher's pet'. Unfortunately for me and the others, Amanda currently held that dubious title, and milked it all she could, with the connivance of the other members of her clique, which included Barbara and Nicola, the two girls who I had so publicly humiliated earlier in the term, and who now sat directly behind me instead of the other way round, so was I in for a nasty surprise!

"Now girls, open your atlases and turn to page 44." I lifted the lid of my desk when there were screams from the back of the class, and we all turned round to find Barbara and Nicola standing on their bench, hugging each other and crying their eyes out as Miss King bustled forward to find out what was amiss. Having calmed them down and sat them down in my old desk she asked what had upset them "Please Miss, open our desks and you will see!" Miss King lifted the lids of the two desks and let out a gasp. "Who is responsible for this?" she declared, as she put a hand into each of the desks and holding them by their tails held up two dead rats for the whole class to see. "I think I'm going to be sick!" declared Rachel as she dived through the door making a bee-line for the girls toilet.

There was deathly silence throughout the class as everyones' eyes searched for visual clues as to who looked most likely to be the guilty party, but the faces of the rest of us girls betrayed nothing but innocence. "Amanda, take these two girls to the Matron for something to calm them down." and as they left the room Miss King stared accusingly at the rest of us, as she continued to hold the evidence in her fingers. "I am now going to dispose of these two creatures, and go and see the Matron; when I return I expect the girl responsible to own up to this despicable trick." The class was buzzing as soon as she left the room, but despite heated exchanges we were no nearer getting someone to own up. Suddenly the door opened and in strode Miss King followed by the three girls.

"Susan Brown, come here immediately!" With faltering steps I made my way to the front of the class, somehow knowing what my teacher had to say, as with eyes blazing she launched her attack. "Amanda here claims she saw you putting something in Nicola and Barbaras' desks - what do you have to say for yourself young lady?" - "But I haven't been near their desk, Miss - when was this supposed to have happened?" - "Don't answer me back in that truculent manner girl, otherwise I will take your knickers down right now and give you a good thrashing!" I knew that such a course of action was well within her remit so I held my own council as another of Amanda's friends piped up "I was with Amanda and I also saw Susan put the dead rats in the desks Miss." - "I don't think we need look any further for the guilty one. Susan Brown you will be put on report while I find some suitable form of punishment for your callous misdeeds." I was about to respond when I saw Emily staring hard at me with her hand over her mouth, and so taking the hint I held my tongue.

I found that the dorm was roughly divided into three 'camps' - the girls who wanted to remain boys, the girls who wished to be girls, and the 'others' - the loners, and those who couldn't care less whether they were boys or girls - as long as they didn't have to wear a 'label', and I soon found out where my loyalties lay. "You were set up by Amanda's crew." Later at bed time Emily confirmed my suspicions, but what to do about it? In view of the afternoons events the atmosphere in the dorm was frosty, even though it should have been a happy time for me, but with Amanda as a bed space 'neighbour' it was only to be expected as she and her cronies went into a huddle on her bed, but I couldn't help noticing when Amanda undressed, she was wearing the sort of training 'bra' thing I had tried on during kitting-out, but hers contained more than just fresh air! - and even when Amanda took it off she still stuck out a bit at the front, but nowhere near as much as Mummy does.

I noticed that all her friends seemed to stick out a bit 'there' in their flimsy nighties although none of my girl friends seemed to do so, and they seemed to take great pleasure in looking down and fondling themselves, and exchanging comments on the way they were 'developing' in that area, even poking their fingers at each other and measuring themselves with a tape measure borrowed from sewing class! "Do you have to stare BOY! It's rude to watch girls in their undies, you should go and play with your oddball boy friends over there!" I was too embarrassed to react to Amanda's loud comments and the accompanying jeers from around the dorm., so having dressed in my nightdress I scuttled off to join Emily and with her friends decamped in Mary's bed space, while claims, counterclaims and verbal challenges flew about the dorm. We whispered amongst each other as to what I should do to get my own back. "Lets sleep on it" said Emily, "we will only land in more trouble if we start a cat-fight- and any way, lets sharpen up our claws first!" With our council of war now over we all dived into our beds as the bell sounded for lights out.

I still had much to learn about being a 'girl', for instance, when I first went to the girls toilet in my new role, I still stood up to present myself to the toilet bowl, since I still found after lifting my dress at the front, and lowering my knickers and thong to 'half mast' it seemed much easier than when sitting down to tinkle. Unfortunately my aim was never that good in my 'pretties' so my poor performance soon came in for pointed criticism from my less fortunate 'peers' (or was it pee-ers?) and I was warned that I must 'do as little girls do', or else face the consequences. I tried to argue the toss over the issue, since I could see no good reason for any of us to sit down, apart from 'doing the business'. "Wait until you haven't anything 'down there' young Miss, and see how you manage then!" Matron's stark warning had me thinking - nothing 'down there'? - how could that be?-and if true - how - and where - was it done? Obviously this was at the root of what I had heard called a 'sex-change' operation, and I shuddered at the thought!

"Brown, I hear you are very good at tennis?" - "Yes Miss King, pretty good for my age." - "Well Miss Susan, you will be demonstrating your skills to your classmates this afternoon." It was a couple of days later, tempers had cooled and although I had been put on report, nothing further had happened, so I was pleased to be able to wear my lovely tennis dress for the first time and show off my skills on the hard courts, and I spent an age admiring myself in the dorm mirror despite the taunts from others.

We were now gathered round our acting 'medic' Miss Hudson, and Miss King as she split the girls into pairs for our doubles matches, and I found myself paired off with Amanda of all people! "Now girls, off you go and get in some practice before we start - but not you Brown, you come with Matron and me." So instead of trotting off with the others, I found myself being escorted into the ladies, adjacent to the tennis courts.

"Now young lady, I have decided to settle the score over the rat incident outside on the tennis court." I could see evil intent in her eyes as she continued - "Now young Miss, strip off your knickers at once! Matron here can help you." - "Umm, is this really necessary Julia?" Matron's plea was met by a determined riposte. "I'm in charge here, now get on with it!" Not wishing to embarrass Miss Hudson any further, I did as I was told and stood there with my knickers in my hand. "And the other pair missy!" I suddenly felt weak at the knees, - "Oh no! Julia you can't be so cruel!" Matron tried once more to plead for restraint, but Miss King had the bit between her teeth. "She does as she is told right now, or I will make her punishment much more unpleasant!" Matron was aghast, as reluctantly I lifted first one leg, and then the other, and removed the remaining token of my respectability and with tears trickling down my cheeks, handed my knickers and lacy thong to Miss King as I waited for her to implement my ultimate humiliation.

Impatiently she clapped her hands together - "Now off you go and join Amanda your partner - you will be playing Barbara and Nicola in your first game!" - "Please Julia, this has gone far enough, let the poor girl off now!" It didn't make one iota of difference though, and reluctantly I shuffled awkwardly out of the ladies- hands gripping the hems of my tennis dress, keeping my eyes down and my legs squeezed together as I hobbled along at snails pace behind Matron towards the hard courts, urged forward by the loud taunts from Miss King to my rear. "Right girls, gather round, Miss Brown here is going to make an exhibition of herself in the skills of the game of tennis."

Miss King's blatant comment brought sniggers from the girls as she tossed a tennis racquet in my direction and in order to catch it I released the hems my dress, the racquet being immediately followed by a tennis ball. She then motioned in the direction of the nearest hard court while on cue Amanda and her two friends stepped forward to participate in my total humiliation, while Emily and co. Sympathetically studied my terror stricken face!

Right girls, we will play the best of eight games, now away you go!" While the others skipped on ahead, and began knocking a ball about, I was still taking tentative steps in the general direction of the hard court. "Speed it up girl - we can't wait all day!" Hilarity was general from the Amanda camp at this demand from Miss King, but eventually I was nervously waiting for Nicola's first delivery of the match. She served four aces in a row to win the first game while my leaden feet remained firmly anchored to the ground, while Amanda was getting more and more restive at my inactivity. "Susan - Your turn to serve!"

By now I could barely see through a veil of tears let alone retrieve a handful of tennis balls from the ground. "Pick your balls up Susan." The innuendo was not wasted, and even my supporters found this remark amusing, as I slowly trundled across the court, and stood contemplating the safest way to pick up a ball without compromising my privacy 'down below'!

'Bend at the waist or crouch at the knees' - 'fast or slow?' - 'catch them unawares?' - 'what to do?' A quick bend from the waist brought cheers from behind me - bad decision! 'one down, one to go!' This time a quick dive down to the crouching position with knees pinned together, - 'Ah much better - no sniggers this time!

Serving was a calamity, as I threw the ball in the air, brought my left hand smartly down to grab the hem of my dress, and then with the tennis racquet in my right hand tried to avoid stretching up too far without my audience enjoying illicit glimpses 'down below' as my pretty tennis dress rode up, or of a nicely rounded bottom as I went to retrieve more tennis balls. So with such self-imposed restrictions, I couldn't even hit the ball over the net properly and sometimes not even in the right direction. "Come on girl, put some beef into it!"

"I think she has been punished enough Julia, don't you?" Matron's pleas were again ignored, and eventually I conceded the game without scoring a single point. It was now Amanda's turn to perform and she made short shrift of the next two games, before I was once more in the frame as Barbara served me four more aces. But neither of our opponents were part of the chorus of laughter, preferring instead to make me squirm for the others enjoyment, although Amanda was getting more frustrated by the minute at my self-imposed incompetence.

Once again it was my turn to serve, and I repeated the performance of my previous service game, with three double faults. On game point I managed to find the right spot and the ball fell gently within the proscribed area before rocketting back in my direction. There seemed no way I could avoid being hit in the face by the ball, but Amanda was across the court like a dose of salts, gave me a shove and thwacked the ball hard down the service line. A derisory cheer went up, I had scored a point! Strangely enough I successfully repeated the previous serve, and this time I side stepped the return shot, straight into the path of Amanda's racquet which smashed into my back and laid me flat on the ground, my legs all akimbo and showing everyone my 'pride and joy', as hastily I scrambled awkwardly to my feet again and brushed down my dress to hide my imperfections from prying eyes. Matron hurried over and helped me off court since I was a bit unsteady on my feet.

In spite of Miss King's objections, and accompanied by Emily and Patricia, she took me back to the school clinic for a check-up, but thankfully everything was still in working order, and I was able to replace my thong and knickers and restore some level of dignity to an otherwise disastrous afternoon. Eventually the others returned from their game and once more I found myself subjected to sniggers and snide remarks from Amanda's supporters.

"Their time will come." I muttered to Emily. - "And it can't be soon enough for me! - just because they are 'on the pill' Miss King thinks they are something special and would never let them suffer such indignities." - But Emily's last remark was lost on me so I asked her to explain. She told me that some of the boys had willingly come to the school with the intention of learning how to be young ladies, and were given some pills to take which she said delayed their voices breaking, and caused the development of secondary female characteristics such as making their chests swell in the way that girls of a similar age develope, which explained all the prodding and measuring which was almost a nightly ritual in the dorm.

"But I thought Matron said some of the 'villains' who come here did the same?" Emily grimmaced but then her face softened "I'm afraid that is inevitable, don't you Patricia?" - Patricia vigorously nodded her head in agreement "I love the the clothes, how pretty I look and feel, and being able to grow my hair out and not have to wear a wig all the time is sheer heaven, we - I mean some of us feel compelled to go the same route as the others - after all at a competitive level - anything THEY can do, We can do better. But it does take time you know, - my - our bodies have to adjust to pill popping, and it makes some of us feel nauseous now and again, but its well worth the effort if we can put one over on the other snooty lot and turn more heads!" - "That doesn't sound much like girly talk to me? - I thought it was only boys who were competitive, surely real girls don't do such things?"

Emily looked amused "Girls are competitive, but in more subtle ways than boys, we compete in the way we dress, talk, carry ourselves, and vie with each other for attention - possibly to attract a suitable partner when we are older." Patricia then cut in: "Emily is right, we are far more competitive than boys - for us girls its a tough world out, there so we must try to be better than we were as boys - especially in our behaviour!" I didn't want to disillusion their philosophical meanderings for Patricia was all starry eyed and light headed after her little speech as she sighed - "You might even try it too?" "No way! - Leave me out of it! I enjoy what I am now!" was my horrified response as I realised she, and possibly Emily were stuck between two stools so might no longer be my friends after the summer 'hols.' if their tacit admission was confirmed; only time - and their shapes - would tell! - but I must confess to a sneaking pang of jealousy which I would have to keep under firm control!

6. A Visit From Mummy

Despite my initial setback, I soon settled comfortably in the dorm with my friends and was amazed at how easily my feminine side embraced certain activities, particularly sewing, ballet, art and tennis - still my favourite, and although in my other lessons I was no swot - I got by. And with a coterie of 'sisters' with similar tastes in leisure and fashions to my own, my spare time was fully occupied, and we still indulged in some rough tom-boyish horse-play on the playing fields from time to time, which didn't always please the others.

Mummy arrived early on Saturday evening, and rang me from the 'White Hart'. The headmistress Miss Porter, had overheard part of my conversation, and suggested I might like to surprise Mummy by being taken down to the hotel in her car, where Miss Porter regularly enjoyed her Saturday night 'tipple'.

For my forthcoming trip, I changed into one of Emily's party dresses in white sateen, which boasted puffed, elbow length sleeves which ended in fussy frilled hems, matched in a similar manner with frills round the yoke of the collar while the bust was decorated with elaborate embroidery. I had a pretty bow tied in my hair, and with my royal blue cape thrown over the top, my indispensible lace gloves, frilly white ankle socks and soft, white slipperettes on my tootsies, I was set to face the outside world for the first time in my new role.

Having exitedly thanked and kissed good-bye to Emily, and been checked over by Miss Hudson, I tripped off out to Miss Porter's car and settled down comfortably for the short ride to the village. I was beginning to have qualms about this, my first outing in my girlie clothes, and as we neared the village and I began to wriggle uncomfortably in my seat. "Now Susan dear, please don't get so het up, You are only a little girl going out to see her Mummy, and that is all anyone need know, so please relax and stop fidgeting and creasing your pretty dress!"-"I remember the first time I went out, and I was younger than you at the time." She had to brake to avoid a dog in the road but I was all ears anticipating the forthcoming revelations from the horse's mouth! "Damn! Now where was I?" - 'Oh no! she's lost the thread', - "You were going out Miss?" - I prompted her, and then crossed my fingers, legs and everything else! "Oh yes, I remember, I was about eight at the time,"

I breathed easily again as once again she got into her stride. "Just like you dear - much to my chagrin I was being brought down to the White Hart, not in my boys clothes as I had expected, but in my girl's things instead in accordance with the school rules for outings, although my family couldn't be forwarned of my novel 'make-over'.

I came down to the village with one of the teachers in an old Morris Minor, Yes - I was going to one of my cousin's birthday parties, I think he was ten.- I especially remember what I was wearing at the time - it was a special present from my Mother; In those days little girls loved to be seen in taffeta dresses with short puffy sleeves, and plenty of lace ruffles round the armholes and the hems; my dress was salmon pink, while underneath" - she hesitated a moment - "Yes - underneath I was wearing salmon pink frilly knickers, but - better still, I was wearing a puff-ball petticoat, something very special for us little girls - they were inflatable petticoats overlaain with layer upon layer of net and lace; we loved to blow up the petticoats ourselves."

By now Miss Porter had driven into the hotel car park and she switched off the engine, but she was quite happy to continue her story to such an attentive audience. "Of course. We didn't always put the stopper in properly and they would slowly deflate - or else we would trap them on a chair and they would make a noise like a whoopee cushion!" She laughed at the recollection, while I tried to visualise this middle -aged lady dressed in a tweed skirt and frilly blouse, as a little girl wearing a net and lace whoopee cushion!

With this thought in my mind I suddenly had a fit of the giggles, so much so that I was in imminent danger of wetting my knickers. "Please Miss I need to go to the toilet, urgently," I cried, holding myself down there in the way I had seen other girls do. "Yes my dear, I will take you myself, and without bothering to lock the car door, she took me inside to the ladies room where I was able to cool off, and even make a 'proper job' of fixing myself up 'where the sun don't shine'! "I will just go out and lock the car Susan, and then we can go and find your Mother."

I sat waiting in the ladies room for Miss Porter to return, but when the door opened once again, it was Mummy who stepped over the thresh-hold! Before I could respond, due to the shock of her surprise appearance, which once more nearly made me wet my knickers, she gave me a cursory glance before disappearing into one of the cubicles. I stood up, looked in the mirror, flicked the curls of my wig with my hands, patted my nose with a lacy hanky retrieved from inside the leg of my knickers, (a trick I had learn't from the other girls), and feeling extremely exposed in my flimsy pinafore dress - showing thigh sky-high, waited for her to reappear.

"Hello Mummy?" the tinkling voice certainly didn't sound like me, but this sudden challenge from a strange child stopped her in her tracks, as shock recognition slowly dawned. "Graham - what are you doing in the ladies?" She looked me up and down. "Grah - I mean Susan, you look absolutely GORGEOUS, and what have they done to your hair? - and what are you doing in here on your own?" I paled, unable to reply in front of her adoring gaze, as she held me at arms length, then looked pointedly at the hem of my dress "What do you have on?" ----"under there?"

I laughed a little girl's laugh "Why Mummy, you are a silly! I am wearing the usual knickers and things that little girls of my age wear 'under there'!" Her voice broke - "You should have been the daughter I never had!" She sobbed before drawing me into her arms and giving me a loving cuddle. At that moment the door opened and Miss Porter introduced herself to my tearful mother. "What have you done to my son?" Mummy asked hoarsely - as the headmistress stepped back, slightly affronted. "How do you mean Mrs. Brown? Surely you knew the conditions under which Susan was allowed to attend this school!"

Mummy promptly put the record straight. "Oh, I must apologise for the misunderstanding- I am very pleased with what you have done for my daughter in such a short space of time; she looks and sounds to me a real credit to your school, and I am looking forward to having her home for the school holidays to show her off to our relatives and friends." Mummy winked at me as she made this remark and Miss Porter visibly puffed with pride, but to me her throwaway remark was a small cloud on the horizon. "I am pleased to hear it Mrs. Brown, perhaps we can go through to the bar and you can have a drink with me, and I can continue telling Susan about my experiences on my first outing." Mummy looked at me rather strangely, not quite grasping the meaning behind Miss Porter's words. "Please Mummy say yes!" I pleaded hugging onto her arm, and so we wandered into the lounge bar, and sat down in a quiet corner as the waiter came over for our order.

Mummy sat looking at me and taking in every detail of my attire, but as I turned in my chair to take my drink from the waiter, my dress rode up, to expose more than a generous display of thigh. "Susan!" she whispered loudly, "we don't want to see what you had for breakfast!" and I promptly wriggled awkwardly to re-arrange my dress. "Yes as I was telling your daughter, I was a mere eight years old when I came here on my first outing as a little girl. Of course dear, puffball petticoats were all the rage then, but a bit ahead of your time!" Mummy tactfully said she remembered them quite well as the headmistress continued her story.

"Of course, I was quite small then, so my teacher's Morris Minor seemed enormous, - as large as one of those American things, like a Buick, so when we drove into here, I needed some help getting down out of the car, especially in all those puffy petticoats which protruded so far up in the air overlaid by my lovely dress, that I couldn't even see my 'tootsies', but my teacher was already on her way into the bar for a 'top-up'! She giggled as she motioned towards her treble drambuie and the king-sized cigarette held in her hand - "She had the same tastes as me you know!" - "Fortunately my five cousins and their friends had just arrived in my Uncle's Bentley, but then, as I was about to make myself known to my family, and beg assistance, my nerve failed me. They didn't recognise me from Adam - or perhaps I should say Eve!"

She gave another little giggle and took a sip of her drambuie. "I was in a quandry as to what to do to draw attention to my plight, since I, like Susan here, was dying to go to the toilet! Although I had managed to open the car door from the inside, and even though they had parked a few yards away, and were 'disembarking', I wasn't sure how to announce my presence as their 'cousin', without some sort of formal introduction", she gestured towards her clothing, "In view of the way I was dressed." After all, I enjoyed the way I was, and if it meant foregoing a party with my family, in order to retain the secret of my enforced lifestyle, then that was my hard luck!" She chuckled quietly to herself as the memories came flooding back.

"It was my other boy cousin, who was about nine, who noticed the 'little lady' in difficulties, and he gallantly ran over to offer his assistance." She then did an aside behind her hand to my mother, "Although my dear, even though his two sisters were similarly dressed to me, he may have only wanted to look up my skirts," - "Well anyway, he came right up to me and then the light dawned, as he stood, speechless, looking at me in the car." she stopped her story to take a longer sip of her drink.

"Come on Nigel, help me down please! I whispered quietly, and I held out both my arms and he lifted me gently down to the ground and even closed the car door behind me." - "Obviously he didn't want to give the game away, there and then, and neither did I, so I thanked him and chased off to the 'ladies', as fast as my tiny legs would allow, and during this brief respite I realized Nigel had probably told the others who I really was!

Of course, they already knew all about 'Maidment School, since they lived a few miles away, but at the time were unaware that I had been sent there as a pupil; Not the sort of thing you want to shout about! - Mother probably assumed I would attend the party in my 'normal' clothes!"

My mother was getting a little restive with Miss Porter's rambling story, and so was I, up to a point. "And did you attend your cousin's birthday party after all?" she asked, trying to speed things along. "Err, - well, actually no! But my cousin Nigel was a brick, and he kindly kept my little secret for reasons of his own, as you can see from a photograph taken during a visit Nigel made to my house, and eventually he - or rather she - became Amelia Hudson, our matron at school!"

Miss Porter must have felt slighted by mother's impatience but did her best to hide it as Mummy pursued own agenda. "How many of your teaching staff are ladies?" - "Madam - We all are!" - "Well, that is - We all try to conduct ourselves the way that ladies should normally behave - "

She then scrabbled about in her handbag and produced a tattered photograph of her ample frame perched on a tiny stool, and showing off her pink frillies and a generous portion of leg - "But as you can see from this recent photo - we do let our hair down occasionally at parties". Mother dismissed the snap with a cursory glance - "And how many 'ladies' are there?" "We are twenty-two in total, and three 'G.G.'s'. "How do you mean 'G.G.'s?" - "Oh genuine girls" replied Miss Porter as Mother lapsed into thoughtful silence while I tried to visualise once more Miss Hudson as the gallant 'Nigel'. When we had finished our drinks, Mummy and I took our leave of the enigmatic Miss Porter, and she ran me back to 'Maidment', promising to meet me for the Sunday service.

In the morning, with some welcome help from Emily I was arrayed for the first time in the classic Maidment 'Sunday Best' as she bustled over in her undies to give me a hand. First she put me into a white, cotton vest decorated round the bustline with layers of frills boasting pale blue satin ribbon inserts before holding out this dreadful corset contraption, which was made of a strong off-white cotton fabric called chenille , decorated with satin inserts, between which lurked tough metal re-inforcing rods.

The garment was made in two pieces, joined at the middle by the most enormous laces I have ever seen, threaded through large eyelets from top to bottom of the garment, and apparently tightly fastened in a bow at the waist. The edges of this device was collectively called a busk, and was armed with tough metal fastenings which Emily used to good effect to clamp round my body and clip the two halves together at the front.

She then spun me round and began to tighten the laces, called drawstrings, down the middle of my back until I felt I would be split in half. "I cant breathe!" I gasped in protest, but she just laughed- "Let me know if you are going to swoon, and I will then know its time to stop!"

With some difficulty I sat on the edge of the bed as Emily lithely crouched down in her corset with an elaborately decorated white stocking in her hands, and holding it by the welt expertly pulled in the leg of the stocking and held it out for me to slide my toes down through the opening and into the toe reinforcement before she pulled it up and secured the welt to three out of the six enormous metal clips attached by satin ribbons dangling from the hem of my corset, and which had, up to now escaped my attention. "These are suspenders which we wear to stop our stockings falling down!" Emily answered my questioning glance with a giggle as she prepared the other stocking for docking with my remaining leg before allowing me to stand up and review the result. I was not impressed! "But Emily, these suspenders are ugly things for us girls to wear!" was my immediate response; - "And it makes my corset feel more uncomfortable than ever!" - "You will soon get used to it - we all do - in time, and your suspenders will be well hidden by the time you are dressed in these!" and I glanced down at the frilly white pantaloons my friend was wearing.

"I hadn't realised we were so well protected underneath?" was all I could think of to say. "Now you know why these were nicknamed 'passion-killers' by Victorian men-folk?" - "Better protection than Fort Knox - so how the devil they had such large families in those days, I will never know?" and we certainly agreed on that! Eventually I was clad in the rest of my costume, grey Edwardian dress and white pinafore, royal blue cape, long frilly pantaloons, white muff hiding white fingerless lace gloves, and the indispensable dolly bag and straw poked bonnet safely secured with a white satin ribbon under my chinny-chin-chin as we boarded the coaches for the monthly trip to St. John's Church in the village.

While most of the others all sat together in the choir stalls to sing matins, some of us were allowed to sit with visiting parents in the congregation, so I was able to sit with Mummy, but I was worried by the funny looks she gave my quaint attire when I descended from the coach and trotted over to join her outside the church, despite her reassuring squeeze of my arm, and whether my fears were real or imagined, her rapturous looks put me ill at ease throughout the service.

Lunch afterwards at the White Hart was a question and answer session with Mummy exploring the nature and the role of the Maidment teaching staff and as to whether sending me to the school was, after all, such a good idea. But having had first hand experience, and having listened to the views of my peers , I defended the school up-to-the-hilt until she relented. "Well Darling; Ignoring the fact that your schooling is costing us an arm and a leg, are you quite happy to stay as you are - and where you are, and prepared to abide by the school rules, no matter what that may mean?"- and I said 'YES -YES -YES' without hesitation as I glanced at my pleasing reflection in the dining room mirror.

"Well, I am glad to hear it, Susan -and by the way, Daddy has re-decorated your room in pastel pinks, while I have bought some new dol- -bedroom furniture for you, so our efforts, in view of the circumstances, to make your return home at end of term as pleasant as possible wont be in vain?" I couldn't quite figure out what she mean't by that remark but let it pass. "And of course, although George and Martin will have to accept the change, there will be some awkward explanations to make to your friends." I then recalled the boy called 'Marilyn' as concern mounted as to what I had let myself in for! And the light began to dawn as she continued - "I tried to persuade Mrs. Porter to make an exception in your case, but she insists that 'rules are rules' and are not there to be flouted," I was panicking now; "What rules are they Mummy?" She frowned - "Haven't you been told? - You must return home as 'Susan'. My knife and fork clattered to the floor with this revelation as panic set in! "You mean I have to dress like this for the whole of the school hols.?" - " No dear of course not!" Mummy brightened visibly and I breathed easy again - "I can take you shopping at Beales in Bournemouth for some lovely new dresses later in the term, I can't have my little girl coming home with nothing to wear during her summer holiday!"

With such a bombshell I visibly paled as I had dreams of being an easy target for every street bully when I arrived home -not forgetting the two young beasts their new 'sister' would be sharing the house with! Mummy leaned over and touched me gently on my bare arm "Don't worry Dear, we will always be there to support you, come what may, and in any case, you look such a cutie no-one would ever know!" - I sloped my shoulders resignedly "Thanks Mum for that vote of confidence!" But privately I wasn't going to hold my breath!

Before she set off for home in the evening, we had afternoon cream tea served in the hotel garden, but firstly mother insisted I changed in her room into a beautiful flowered dress she had brought especially for the occasion so as to take some more photos of me - 'just to show the boys' probably to ensure my brothers realised what a couple of sissies they would end up if they strayed too far from the straight and narrow; but I was already figuring out some novel ideas for their downfall when I returned home six weeks hence, but meanwhile I had another score to settle back at school!

A week later a large parcel arrived from Mummy, together with a letter and an invitation to attend her best friends wedding in late summer - as a bridemaid! 'Darling, I have got on the phone to your sewing teacher, and she has agreed to let you make a start on the bridesmaid dress as part of your term project, and we can finish it off at home, so the pattern, dress material and all the underpinnings are enclosed.' - and then the letter went on to say how sorry she was that as a first-termer I wouldn't be allowed home for half term break.

But she went on to say how the boys were looking forward to seeing their reformed 'sister' in her lovely dress! "I bet they are!" exclaimed Emily, looking up from filing her long shapely nails - "I was a flower girl last summer, and my sisters nearly hugged me to death!" 'Heaven forbid but hardly likely' (thinking of my two snotty nosed brothers placing me in a similar predicament) as she held up the pale pink satiny material for me to admire.

I was already aware of other boys in my sewing class embarked on similar projects inspired by over-zealous mothers, intent on exposing them to the ludicrous gaze of friends and family allegedly to show how clever their little girls had become. So party dresses, ballet tutus, flower girl and ice skating outfits were being manufactured in abundance, while the walls of the sewing room were plastered with photographs of the end results, including one of Mrs. Smythe, the sewing mistress, with her star pupils in close attendance as her bridesmaids!

7. A Prank Goes Wrong

It was after the half term break and during the annual Mayday celebrations before Emily and I were able to put my little plan to into operation for the downfall of Amanda and the rest of her clan, thanks to the boys from St. Marys, and their secret weapon which I had retrieved from its hiding place in my locker! A Maypole had been erected on the sports field as well as various stalls which were provided and staffed by the villagers. The local children were invited to dance round the maypole with all the 'special' girls in the school, including the loathesome Amanda and her bunch, having made their dresses in sewing class especially for the event.

The girl dancers were allocated one of the multicoloured satin ribbons decorating the maypole, which matched the colour of their dresses, so all I had to do was sprinkle the itching powder on the appropriate coloured ribbons, and sit back and wait for the fun to begin! The plan was for us to buttonhole Jennifer, and in her presence, get Amanda and the four girls in her clique to confess to their misdeeds in exchange for relief from the effects brought on by the itching powder, since I was the only one who would know the antidote!

Emily and I were were not involved in the formal activities, and for us it was an informal 'dress-down' day, so we were both wearing full length brightly patterned yellow cotton summer dresses which we had made in the sewing class and open toed sandals with our red painted and manicured toenails peeping forth for all to see. We were assigned to helping out with the car parking, which suited our purposes perfectly, since we would be free of our chores in plenty of time to watch the dancing and see what happened, while Mary and Patricia would be able to keep us informed of the current situation.

Everything was going swimmingly when Miss Haydon appeared on the scene. - "Emily! Come with me this minute - Barbara is feeling sick and you are the same size as her - so you will have to take her place on the maypole!" The french mistress had rushed over to the car park to escort Emily over to the sports pavilion to change, and as she was led away she shrugged her shoulders hopelessly.

The first part of the plan had already been implemented so I could only hope she would go through with it and not blow the whistle at this late stage. Patricia rushed over just as I was dismissed car parking duties. "There's been a accident with the maypole, the ground was too soft and when some of the village boys went to pull on the ribbon streamers as a joke, the pole fell over!" We rushed to view the damage, and fortunately no-one was hurt, eventually order was restored, the maypole re-erected, and with accordian and fiddle as accompiament, the girls trotted out, two by two, hands linked crosswise in front of their slender bodies, ready for the dance to begin, although any thought as to which ribbon streamer to use had escaped the girls as they each grabbed the first one that came to hand.

The girls were all wearing taffeta 'Empire line' dresses, and I couldn't help noticing there was as much plumpness in our girls chests as displayed by the girls from the village, and I was unable to tell boys from girls as they gaily danced around, to create the traditional maypole weave, the satin ribbons held in one hand and their dresses in the other while Emily looked serene and seemingly oblivious as to what was to come!

For me the rest was a complete disaster, the village girls had all snaffled the doctored ribbons, and didn't seem any the worse for wear, but they were wearing proper white fabric gloves - not lace ones full of holes, but at least poor Emily avoided becoming a victim of her own mischief making! I was distraught and still no nearer putting the record straight with the gorgeous Miss King, but Emily seemed happy and relieved that nothing disastrous had happened either to her, or the others, as she dashed over breathlessly, her eyes shining excitedly, looking as pretty as a picture in her long, flimsy, striped lavender Empire line dress, her face framed in a straw poke bonnet with an enormous brim and a tiny crown held firmly in place with a lavender satin ribbon, beneath which lurked a gorgeous confection of tiny flowers threaded in her hair, the strands of hair having been woven into a number of tresses and then individually pinned up high on her crown in a tight circlet, while dainty lavender slipperettes set off by white clocked stockings decorated her tiny feet.

She grabbed me by the arm and suggested we walk back to school as she fanned herself vigorously with her ornate fan in order to cool off after her exertions. "Gosh!" ----" I did enjoy myself Susan, you must try it next year - it was a delightful experience - and so much fun!" After our recent chat with Patricia, who was too far gone to do anything about , I now began to seriously worry about Emily since she insisted on wearing her borrowed plumes all evening, even delighting in masking her face with her paper fan and flashing those dark, mysterious eyes at her reflection in the full length dormitory mirror as she spent an age primping and preening herself; even ignoring her friends and entering into animated conversation with the 'enemy' who were similarly garbed as fans flashed incessantly, creating quite a draught inside the dorm.

8. Downfall for Teacher's Pet!

It was the following evening that rumours spread from the village of a mysterious affliction which had laid low a number of the village boys and girls as well as Fred, the handyman who erected the maypole. Naturally the school was blamed, but not without good cause! "Susan Brown - Strictly between you and me, do you still have the powder?" "Umm. yes Miss Parsons I do!" I replied benignly, expecting the worse, when the H.M. challenged me the following morning; but she just smiled "No more attempts to discredit my more 'serious' girls please.- I know how wicked and catty they can be, especially the clique of Miss King's admirers in your class, but she can only see good in her own kind. But since you may be joining them soon, and you will need them on your side when that happens, I would advise you to discontinue your vendetta young lady!"

Thanks to her words my disillusionment was complete and any thoughts of being teachers pet even if she wasn't a 'G.G.'were in ruins - as 'she' was just like me apart from taking some pills, having an operation, and letting her hair grow long! - perish the thought! The following morning, Emily mentioned she was to attend sick bay for some tests and to be issued with some pills and would I like to come along, but hastily I declined just in case I became infected by the same 'bug' which seemed to afflict so many of my compatriots, and even though I tried to dissuade her she was determined to go through with it! News of Emily's impending 'pill popping' spread fast, so when later that evening she trotted over to join us in Patricia's bed-space Mary spoke up - "I think Emily had better join the boy-girls over in the corner, don't you girls?"

Emily looked at me in consternation, so I sprung to her defence "Does she have to go girls? She is the same person she was before. Why can't she stay?" - "We don't wish to be contaminated by her pill popping madness - she will have to go!" Rachel joined in the argument, and since Patricia and I were the only ones not nodding our heads in assent, the argument was lost and a disheartened Emily turned to trudge off across the floor. "Wait for me Emily - I will join you too!" Patricia rose from the bed. "Sorry girls, I have been pill popping for three months now, as you can see!" As she turned sideways on we could see highlighted in the glare of the dormitory,'s lights, the unmistakable bulges of budding breasts through the flimsy material of her nightdress, as she took Emily decisively by the hand. "Come on Emily lets join our new friends!"

They left in their wake a dwindling band hanging on to our self-imposed 'exclusion zone', and wondering who next would succumb to the pressures of petticoat power? I don't know which upset me most - the fact that Emily had switched camps so dramatically, or the way she was treated by her so called 'friend's and I had almost been tempted to join her and Patricia there and then. But having witnessed some horrific pictures of the 'operation' only hours earlier in Matron's health and safety class, I needed more time to think before I jumped, tantalizing though that prospect seemed to be at the time.

Before I fell asleep I recalled some of the more chilling extracts from the Matron's lecture -"Young Ladies! Having seen the film of the operation, I ask you if you can realistically answer these simple questions" - " If you, like the girls in the video, having undertaken the pre-requisite course of injections and decide to go ahead with the operation, feel about all that meat down there being surgically removed, thrown away, and partly replaced by little more than a plastic funnel which will require constant care and attention from now on?" - "If, despite the excruciating pain, you will periodically be prepared to insert a surgical instrument called a dilator, into your reconstructed vagina, to ensure the cavity remains open to avoid urinary infection, or deliberately for the purposes of sexual penetration." "If you answer 'yes'to these questions, then you must be as mad as I am!" - "Think about it!" -"And even though you now have an optional choice of how you pee, how, after your treatment you will be committed for evermore to queueing up either inside, or even outside a public toilet in order to sit down to go, - if, that is you have the balls to stand there in the first place, with little girls crying, tempers fraying, and arguments flaring you can keep your head while all about you are losing theirs! And then, if, once you are in the smoky atmosphere of the stall, you are prepared to sit down on the seat, possibly in an old woman's dried urine and spray away, hopefully downwards, and in the right direction, and trust you are not splashing under the seat and over your court shoes!" - "But even then, you haven't finished yet, as you need to wipe yourself with toilet paper, if there is any left that is! - and if, when you stand up, and carefully pull up your knickers, pray that they, or possibly the hems of your skirt or petticoat, haven't found their way into a pool of urine! If, when you exit the 'cattle stall' you can bear to wait in another queue to use the washing facilities, or leave the stinking place feeling soiled and dirty aware of some-ones discarded 'swiss roll' which failed to find its way into an appropriate receptacle, and hoping and praying that despite all your hygienic precautions - you don't continue to leak into your knickers." -"If, at the end of the day, you can stomach all these things, then girls, - you will truly be cut out to be Ladies!"

With such negative and stomach churning thoughts, I spent a restless night.

"Amanda! Please pay attention! - that's the third time this week, young lady!" It was the following morning and Amanda was having another of her 'bad days' as Miss King again brought her back to earth with a bump during a math lesson. Itching powder was 'out' thanks to the H.M., but I still had another idea to try out on teacher's pet and sour our relationship even further. "Okay girls, let's see what you know about the Maid of Orleans?" It was the following morning and Miss King had breezed into the class, sat down at her desk, checked the register and was now steaming ahead with a history lesson.

"Amanda, stand up please and tell us what you know?" Fortunately Amanda was having another off day, and was slow to respond to the command. Miss King snorted impatiently - "Barbara, please give your colleague the benefit of your knowledge." By now Amanda was standing by her desk. "Sit down again Amanda and let's hear what Barbara has to say." With this Amanda sobbed, and with tears streaming from her eyes ran from the room while the surprised teacher attempted to stand up from her desk.

She then had another shock as she struggled to extricate herself from her desk - "Please help me girls, I seemed to be stuck?" We crowded round, as we tried to figure out what was wrong. "Please Miss your mini-skirt seems to be sticking to the seat." -this was the unanimous verdict of the class as we hauled on her arms and struggled to free her from the trap. I went to undo her zip fastener but my hand was rudely slapped away. "Enough of that Brown! I can manage!" as she sat there rocking to and fro trying to free her skirts from the seat's remorseless grip.

"This is stupid!" she whined, "Go and call the handyman!" Fred duly arrived, but despite all the pushing and shoving, her skirt wouldn't shift. "Reckon its super-glue myself." With Fred's suggestion Miss King went ballistic. "Get me out of here right now!" as she snarled like a trapped animal. Eventually she conceded the only way was to undo her zip, and then attempt to wriggle free. "This is a brand new skirt- if it is ruined some-one had better look out!" Fred was sent packing, while Matron was summoned, armed with a dressing gown, while we crowded round expectantly as royal blue faced Miss King used her hands and arms to lever herself upwards, and backwards, out of her pink skirt.

The giggles were subdued as her deliciously embroidered oyster french knickers hove into view, to be followed by the ornate ribbon garters of her matching suspender belt holding up her lace topped stockings. "Wow!" We feasted our eyes on a view we certainly never expected to see as she finally stood wobbling on the seat in her heels before lowering herself quickly to the floor and grabbing the dressing gown from Matron. "Right you lot! - outside"

We scuttled out of the room, but crowded round listening outside the door as the two women systematically searched our desks. "Go and find Amanda!" With Miss Hudson's demand ringing in my ears I now had cause for celebration as my trap had been sprung, thanks to the super-glue from the sports hut, and it would be Amanda's turn for a going over. The poor creature looked a picture of innocence as she was shown the evidence - Miss King's pink mini-skirt sticking forlornly to the seat, and the super-glue found in her desk as proof of the charge laid against her, and despite her pleas, Miss King was convinced she had found the culprit, who was informed that retribution would be swift and decisive with end-of-term nigh!

"Amanda, please stop what you are doing and come with me!" Miss King had appeared in the dorm the next morning in the middle of ablutions, had marched over to where Amanda was about to get dressed, and lead her away in the direction of the newcomers dorm. Later while we sat eating breakfast, a distraught little girl dressed in a schoolboy uniform came into the dining room carrying her breakfast tray and went and sat on her own. She was wearing a similar uniform to the disgusting one I had to wear some three months earlier, but the one Amanda was wearing was fairly new! I didn't realise how cruel Miss King could be until this moment, as Amanda forlornly picked at her food, before rushing from the building. I felt guilty as hell and promptly dumped my napkin on the table, brushed my skirt down and followed her out into the playground where I found her sobbing to herself in a corner.

"There, there Amanda, please don't cry. I'm sorry I played that trick on you!" I put my hand round her shoulder and tried to comfort her as best I could. She turned and put her head on my shoulder - "Umm, -sob!- I am sorry I was so cruel to you, and I probably deserved to be taken down - sob! - a peg or too! - But this is too much! - sob!- I have to stay dressed like this for the rest of the term - sob! - and then travel home dressed like it!" - boohoo!- Eventually I found out she could change back to Amanda when she arrived home, but meanwhile, with a fortnight to go before end of term, in her eyes, it was still a long time and she was a real sad cutie, and having experienced the pleasures as well as the pain of dressing 'en femme', I readily sympathised with her plight as Emily came over to offer her moral support until she calmed down enough to join us for ballet practice and dress rehearsal for the forthcoming school concert, being the first two lessons of the day! This relieved her somewhat as Miss King hadn't excluded her from participation in any of the school activities - so she would still be able to dress in standard activity kit for ballet, tennis, hockey, and so on.

9. St. Mary's Boys Laid Low.

There was a parade and fair on the village green on the last Saturday before we went home, and because one of the school coaches was off the road some of us had to ride one way and walk the other in our 'Sunday Best', and since it was a bitterly cold day, we were made to wear our royal blue capes. Emily, Patricia and I were amongst those who were bussed to the village, and even Amanda was allowed along as a concession. We were constantly pestered by a group of lay-abouts from St. Marys who had been allowed to turn up in jeans and t-shirts, and who Amanda and Mary had recognised and taunted endlessly with improper gestures, ignoring the boys snide remarks about who, and what, we were, as they harried us constantly trying to look up our skirts as we rode on the various rides, but since there was a Victorian fancy dress competition, we blended in quite well with the village children, some of whom were sporting Maidment cast-offs as their disguise, and despite the cold, we even took part in the parade through the village.

Eventually it was time to return to school and half a dozen of us began the two mile walk along the road. Amanda and two of her friends were quick off the mark and soon out of sight round a bend in the road, while Emily, Patricia and I had meandered along more slowly. We heard the clatter of cycles behind us and Emily was given a violent shove in the back which pushed her into the hedge as the six St. Mary's boys came up behind us but then continued their frantic drive up the road, presumably in hot pursuit of Amanda, so although Emily was slightly winded, we shouted after them and quickened our pace to get a clearer view of the road ahead. But when the road straightened out there was no sign of either our girls, or the boys who were chasing after them.

It was when we reached the site for a new housing estate that we spotted three bikes leaning against the perimeter fence, so we continued along until spotted two poked bonnets lying in the grass, followed by a commotion from the uncompleted shell of the first house in the new service road to the site. So, suitably armed, we picked our way carefully the ten yards or so to the front door, crept down the unfinished hallway and peered cautiously into a back room from where muffled cries and raucous laughter was coming. If it wasn't so serious, the undignified state of our compatriots would have been amusing.

There were two boys accosting each of our three girls, who were each being held in a bear hug from behind by one of the boys, the girls' royal blue capes having been pulled over their heads, pinning their arms to their sides and preventing them from seeing what was going on 'down below,' where the three remaining boys were each trying to hold the girls' pinafores, skirts and petticoats out of the way while attempting to rummage around in the girls' under-things with varying degrees of success. We didn't find out who was who until afterwards, but Mary was the boy scout, because the knots in the drawstrings of her pantaloons proved immovable as she kicked out wildly at her attacker's shins, but both Rachel and Amanda were in dire straights with their pantaloons draped around their ankles preventing them from fighting back, and although the metal clasps on Rachel's suspenders were proving more than a match, poor Amanda was less fortunate, with her metal suspenders dangling and clanging helplessly to and fro and her stockings now sagging at half mast, as with a whoop of success her thong was ripped out of the way, allowing her 'naughty bits' to spring from their confines.

With the six boys otherwise pre-occupied whooping at the tops of their voices while taking in the view, we marched into the room holding our dolly-bags high in the air and poised ready to attack, "Leave those girls alone!" shouted Emily. The three boys doing the molesting stopped what they were doing, turned and screamed with laughter to answer her ridiculous challenge. "What's it going to be sissy-boys? - Duelling with handbags at five yards? - or better still - your bags against our fists! - and you can take first swipe!"

Obligingly, the three lads lean't their heads forward so that we could get a better aim! There were three 'clunks' as our weapons hit their target, and three howls of pain, anger and surprise as three boys collapsed to the ground nursing three broken heads! We then switched our attention to the remaining three, still struggling with their captives, as we kicked out at the boys shins in our pointed button boots, and brought our dolly bags effectively once more into play as two more crumpled to the ground nursing their sore heads to join the three already cowering in the dust.

With the element of surprise complete, the other boy 'did a runner' nursing his bruised limbs, while we turned our attention to our tearful friends, hugging and re-assuring them that all was now well before helping re-instate their crumpled clothing to some semblance of order, and totally ignoring the moans and groans of their attackers as one by one they staggered or crawled away nursing their wounds. Moments later two men working on the site appeared through the door to investigate the disturbance having seen the shaken boys ride off and to find out what had happened, and having given an account of our side of the story, they gallantly offered to run us back to school in their station wagon which was parked just down the road and explain to our teacher what had happened, an offer we were only too pleased to accept. "You girls certainly knew how to handle those scally-wags?" - "Umm, well a dainty dolly-bag loaded with a half-brick makes a very effective weapon!" was Patricia's response as the men laughed and joked heartily at that news. "I don't think we would invite you girls out even when you are older in case we got the same treatment from your weapons!" But I also laughed inwardly at the innocent double-entendre!

As we drove through the gates of the 'Maidment School for Boys' we were amused to see the driver do a 'double take' before continuing up the drive to the school before whispering quietly to his colleague, but true to their word, they gave matron an account of what had happened interspersed with sideways glances at their respectable young lady charges standing placidly in our quaint outfits before they eventually drove off at speed! It took the three girls a day or two to recover from the ordeal.

Poor Amanda explained how three of the boys had overtaken them and then dumped their bicycles further up the road and then walked back slowly towards the three girls, and while the girls backed away and were otherwise pre-occupied, the other boys had come up quietly behind them and swung their capes over their heads and arms, knocking their bonnets to the ground before seizing them round their waists and frog-marching them into the back room of the house, where we had arrived in the nick of time.

We were feted as heroines by the staff, and since we were studying French literature in class, it seemed appropriate for Emily, Patricia and myself to privately knick-name ourselves after the Dumas novel, and 'The Three Maidmenteers' came to mind as a title, but we settled instead for 'The Three Petticoateers', even if our weaponry would only dolly be bags at ten paces; but we had proved that a half brick swung or slung in a girls dolly bag makes quite a deadly weapon!

At Monday morning assembly Miss Porter made a rare speech to the school. "Girls! No doubt you are all aware of the confrontation at the village fete on Saturday which resulted in three of our pupils being attacked shortly afterwards by six hoodlums who we believe may have come from St. Mary's school, although we cannot prove this to be the case. Having heard reports of the outlandish behaviour by some our girls at the fete concerns me greatly," - "I expect you all to behave like young ladies at all times, where-ever you are, or what-ever you are wearing, and not like some young hussies out on the town. - But what I can confirm is following a series of meetings with staff from St. Marys after some of their boys were found trapped in our changing rooms by the police, we have embarked on a new chapter in our relationship with our nearest neighbourhood school. - So instead of an atmosphere of confrontation, it has been decided to engender better understanding and co-operation between the two school communities, so effective from the beginning of next term the two schools will be operating a pupil exchange scheme."

"This will mean some of you girls being bussed over to St. Marys for specific lessons, which will enable both schools to enjoy a greater range of subjects and extra-curricular activities than at the present time, and as a start some of you girls will attend their end-of-term concert later in the week - an arrangement to be reciprocated by some of the St. Mary's boys attending ours.

10.End of Term Frolics.

The final events in the Maidment calendar were a return tennis match against St. Mary's girls, and the school concert, an event demanding the attendance of our already heavily put upon parents, and Mummy was no exception. But first I was involved in the tennis match, and with the rest of the team, bussed to St. Marys to play their girls' team, and despite our confidence at beating the pants off a crowd of silly girls, we failed miserably to do so as they set about beating the panties off us! I was soundly thrashed in my game, and one or two snide remarks from the boy spectators and my female opponent were off-putting - anyway that's my excuse, although I did feel very 'yummy' in my scanty tennis dress and frilly knickers despite the comments, but since my team and I were the centre of attraction - then to hell with the tennis!

Back at Maidment, Mummy turned up at twelve to run me into town to fulfill her dream for her 'darling daughter' to be suitably equipped with a basic wardrobe in readiness for my return home later in the week, so accompanied by Emily and Patricia she took us to the White Hart for lunch before driving on into Bournemouth and because it was midweek, we were allowed to go out in our school pinafore dresses, and of course she couldn't resist taking some more photographs to show you-know-who! "I must say you girls look very tidy, so who does your ironing?" Emily puffed up proudly - "Actually, Mrs. Brown, we all do our own laundry and ironing, including our smalls as part of our home economics studies." Mummy looked impressed but then turned to Patricia "Susan tells me you asked to be sent to Maidment - young lady?" Patricia looked slightly embarrassed as Mummy's eyes centred on her bust area "Yes Mrs. Brown, quite a few of us girls come here voluntarily, and for me it was the best birthday present I ever had!" Mummy sniffed, "It looks as though that's not the only birthday present you had!" Ever the diplomat, it looked as though our trip would end in disaster!

"I hear you were also sent to the school under duress, Emily? What were you sent down for?" Mummy fixed her with an intense gaze as Emily toyed awkwardly with her soup spoon. "Umm, I was stealing things."- "You mean shoplifting?" - "Umm, no nothing like that." - "Breaking into peoples houses then?"- "Noo, not exactly!" Mummy sniffed, a definite sign her patience was running out. "Well what exactly did you steal?" Emily was royal blue by now as she whispered - "Washing" - Patricia and I exchanged glances as the penny dropped. - "You mean you were a clothes line thief?" Emily had lost her appetite. "Umm, yes I was, and that's the reason I'm dressed like this - but I only stole them to add to my collection, I didn't wear them!" - "Oh, you were a panty thief? - Well young Emily, that seems to me a lovely way for you to be punished, if you dont mind me saying so!"

"Somebody stole my knickers off the line once, and it made me feel violated and abused at the time - but it certainly wasn't Graham or my other two boys, he was too sensitive to touch ladies lingerie let alone steal it, and as for wearing it? - Umm- up until now that is!" Mummy glanced at me as she tried desperately to avoid the giggles, but in an infectious atmosphere, the three of us were soon in stitches, and even Emily eventually saw the funny side and joined in the general merriment.

Bournemouth was its usual bustling self when we arrived, and soon we found our way into the girls' department of Beales. It was rather off-putting when a beaming smile from the manageress greeted our appearance in the girls' department as she rushed forward in anticipation of a multiple sale. "Good afternoon Madam, - are these your three daughters?"- "Certainly not, just one daughter is enough!" Mummy couldn't stand pushy saleswomen putting their foot in it, and although we smiled at the put down, the mistake was understandable since the three of us were quite distinctive in height and build for girls, Emily being a tiny plumpish thing, while I was overshadowed by the lanky Patricia.

"This is Susan, and she needs some dresses to take home for the holidays, while her two friends are here for moral support." -"Very wise of you Susan, and you are all at Maidment I see! - You are lucky 'girls'!" Her smug reply was obviously mean't to make little boys squirm in their borrowed plumes, and although the trick worked on me, my two friends were well used to such cruel barbs, having both shopped before with their parents and therefore were made of sterner stuff.

The saleswoman led us over to the changing cubicles and because of the limited space, took off my cape and hung it outside and then took my measurements before I tried on some dresses. "Hips thirty four" - "waist twenty four" - "Breasts thirty two!"- "Not much development there for a 'girl' of your age!" she sniffed at her pointed criticism, my face now burning with embarrassment as the other two smirked knowingly, but she was miffed as Mummy responded by asking her to measure the other two girls so that they could try on some outfits as well.

Armed with this information we joined all the other young girls trotting happily in and out of the rows of dresses with their mummies in close attendance, but I was still aware of the piggy eyes following our progress as we searched for some nice things to try on in the changing room, and while I settled for a number of fussy summer dresses, my friends were trying on short skirts and lacy tops.

One self-opinionated childish madam carrying an antique dolly got up our noses a bit as she maliciously and noisily suggested we were from the 'paupers' school and were getting in her way, and should be shown the door! Patricia was seething over her remarks, knowing how much it cost most parents to send us there, so while Mummy was paying for my purchases, she had sloped off and had stalked her prey, and while the target was trying on a new party dress and admiring herself in the shop mirrors, she sneaked into the girl's changing room, put the girl's summer dress on a hanger, and hid it amongst similar garments in the next bay, before reporting back so we could enjoy the fun! The frustrated screams from the girl had her mother scuttling across the shop, as the young girl, replete of her dress but in her ornate cotton petticoats, dashed up and down the department, tearfully searching for her missing dress, and giving us a suspicious glance as she passed by. "What was that about, girls?" Asked Mummy with a mischievous gleam in her eye as we wended our way back to the car park. "Nothing much Mrs. Brown, we just taught someone a lesson that's all!"

Later that evening, a number of disconsolent St. Mary's boys who had been coerced by their school into attending our concert were bussed in by coach, and were outwardly showing signs of uneasiness, especially when some of our senior girls, appropriately dressed for their roles as 'usherettes' each took a boy by the hand and daintily led him to his seat in the main hall for the school concert. The girls were all dressed in outrageously flared pink and white satin mini-dresses, boasting frilly white lace trimmings round the hems and bust-lines of their scanty dresses, which were sitting atop a white froth of multi-layered net petticoats and black fishnet tights set off by black high heeled court shoes, and a tiny white satin and lace frilled apron tied round their waists, with a matching cap ridiculously perched atop their silken tresses.

The ten 5th form boys were ushered to seats in the front row of the hall, which was still virtually empty, but they were unable to sit 'en bloc' since eleven of our upper 6th form girls were sitting in pre-arranged positions on alternate seats in the row, in the presentation evening gowns they had made in sewing class, while the rest of us girls not participating in the concert, were sitting in the four rows immediately behind, dressed more modestly, but far more colourfully in our best party dresses, creating something of a carnival atmosphere to the proceedings.

One or two boys were about to protest and move elsewhere, but a stern look from their senior master ensured they did as directed, so instead of feeling relaxed, their anxiety at being seperated, and surrounded by such androgynous creatures must have increased, because now they were seated, their eyes were level with the top of the young usherettes' fishnet tights with the unavoidable glimpses of where the girls tights merged into the soupy white froth of net petticoats and satin and lace panties. They were also assailed by the titillating and tantalising 'in your face' scratching and tickling from the lace hems of the girls starch-stiffened net petticoats as they waited for parents and guests to arrive, and then sashayed up and down the narrow gangway between the stage and the front row of seats, escorting people to their places for the concert. To add to the boys troubles, were these older, more sophisticated looking 'girls', perfumed up to the eyeballs, all clad in their 'strappy little numbers', busily chattering away to each other, who coolly, but politely interrupted their conversations to try to make the new arrivals welcome by getting on first name terms with their new 'neighbours'.

The wall of silence was insurmountable, so eventually the girls continued chatting to their colleagues, thereafter appearing to ignore the highly charged atmosphere created by teenage angst amongst the panic-stricken youngsters in their midst, as the shame-faced boys tried desperately to hide visual evidence of their true feelings beneath the concert programmes in their laps, and as Patricia told me later "If the dampness in my knickers was anything to go by, I'm sure all the girls were as turned on as much I was!" - and as far as I was concerned, I had to agree to that!- and it could only get worse - or better - as the evening progressed - depending upon ones view of things!

The concert included the usual mix of choral singing and ballet and some tantalising folk dancing, but even then the boys had to crane their necks to get a better view, since the 'usherettes' were still trotting to and fro and deliberately obscuring the stage on the orders of Miss Porter. There was a string quartet and the only two twin girls in the school performing their clog-dancing, and two of the older girls with their politically incorrect ventriloquist act "Mr. Punch meets Alice in Wonderland" which ends up with Alice beating the daylights out of Mr. Punch with his stick - after our recent escapade at the fair we got a great giggle out of that! Even the boys relaxed a wee bit and politely applauded at the end of the performance, along with everyone else.

And so my first term at Maidment drew to a close as I recalled the highs and lows of the past three months, with a clutch of gender-gifted friends, a wardrobe full of girls clothes, enough toiletries, cleansing creams, powders, perfumes, tweezers, files, etceteras, to open a chemists shop, domestic and social skills such as sewing, washing and ironing, dancing, shopping for clothes, and learning to be the perfect hostess although quite what for in my case,I'm not sure!

But ahead of me was a far more testing experience, as I returned home in my new role as Susan, dressed entirely in the clothing appropriate for the opposite sex, to face for the first time my father and the scorn of my two younger brothers, and with no recourse to change back, since all my boys clothes had been spirited away to Grandma's house, and what all my friends would make of it all, or possibly do to me, I had no idea as I pondered what the future had to hold for a young boy like me!

END