Louisa lived with her mother Judy, only four streets away from where I was raised by my Mum Cathy, and we attended the same school. However, due to the strict separation maintained between girls and boys at the time, we did not meet until we were eighteen and starting our final year of school. We ran into each other by chance and found out straight away that we were both the targets of merciless bullying. We did not conform to gender stereotypes - Louisa was a tomboy, and I was a sissy.

She and I clicked immediately and began to console, mentor, and support each other. Despite all the rules of the time, we became good friends. At weekends, we began meeting at Louisa’s home when Judy was away shopping. Our gender ambiguities/curiosities took hold, and we began cross-dressing. Much to our surprise, we found ourselves at ease and at peace while dressed as the opposite gender. Thus, Louisa’s male persona George and my female identity Louisa came into being. At first, we confined our activities to Louisa’s house and garden, but today we ventured out in public for the first time. George played football with a group of boys in the park, and I spent quality time with girls of my age. All went okay, and our gambit went undetected. 

I was on cloud nine that evening, and it was only as I lay awake in bed that night that the enormity of our escapade sank in. We had gone out in public cross-dressed without thinking or caring about our actions' significant risks or consequences. Had I given the idea even a modicum of prior consideration, I would not have been so stupid. Our chances of success were slim to none, and the consequences of discovery unthinkable. It was pure beginner’s luck that our guises went unseen. 

Despite this, I was also glad that we had thrown caution to the wind. It allowed us to find out that we were content and confident with the opposite gender. If we had been more prudent, who knows how long it would have taken to reach this enlightening conclusion. I now knew that I could pass muster as a girl and looked forward to exploring and developing a female identity. But, of course, I understood that not all girls would be as friendly and accepting as those I met in the park. Inevitably, I would come across bullies such as those targeting Louisa, but that was something I would deal with when it happened. I knew that if I was to be a girl, I had to learn to deal with the bad and the good. 

The following week, Louisa and I met at lunchtime at our secret safe spot, a clearing in a wood near the school. There we sat and chatted happily about the events of Saturday and our thoughts about cross-dressing. As we both expected, Judy was told by a nosy neighbour about Louisa’s trip outside on Saturday and was then quizzed about it. But happily, once Louisa explained that she had gone to the park and spent time with a group of girls, her mother was content. 

Louisa was highly delighted with her first experiences as a boy and keen to find out more. As we talked about going to the park again on Saturday, she mentioned an issue that I had not even thought about - boys' trousers or shorts bulged at the front. But, at the same time, they were smooth when she wore them. 

Not for the first time, I struggled to utter any words. I mean, we both knew about cock/balls and pussy from basic school biology at school and the wild playground stories about boys and girls. But in those innocent times, the reality was that neither of us had seen them for real. So, Louisa had no idea why boys showed a bulge and equally, I could only guess why girls did not.

Louisa was looking at me questioningly. “Well, what is the reason for the bulge?” 

Her insistence made me squirm, but I knew that I could not ignore it. If Louisa continued cross-dressing, it would only be a matter of time before someone noticed the lack of male tackle. Mark my words, any suspicions about manliness would soon be bandied around in a none too delicate or charming manner, and George could be exposed. I had to explain the problem to Louisa and, if possible, find a way to overcome it. 

Unable to produce any words to describe the boy bulge, I eventually decided to use a showing instead of a telling approach. Louisa had to see my tackle for real. Boys love to boast to other boys about their naughty bits, and it would be an immediate red flag if George could not join in the banter. So I went bright red as I undid my belt, unzipped my fly, and took down my trousers and drawers. 

Louisa gasped, blushed, and put her hands over her eyes. 

"It is okay. The sky will not fall in just because you look at my privates. Now, take a gander.” 

Louisa slowly uncovered her eyes, and they were immediately out on stalks as she fixated on my cock and balls. 

“Wow, no wonder you have a bulge at the front. Are all boys the same?” 

“Yes, they can vary in size but generally look the same.” 

As Louisa gazed at my penis nestled on top of my scrotum, she said, “is it sleeping now? Does it really get much bigger?” 

I gulped before I replied. “Yes, it is resting, but it can get up to three or four times larger when it wants.” 

“Okay, now I know why you can pee standing up. But this means that there is no way for me to pass as a boy.”

"That is not true. You will always have to sit to wee. But there is nothing to stop you from padding out your drawers to show that you are well hung, just as many boys do when trying to emphasize their manliness."

“I never imagined that. Will you help me with that on Saturday?”

“Of course, anything to assist.”

“You have gone above and beyond for me, so it is only fair that I do the same for you.”  

With that, Louisa flipped back her skirt to reveal a pink triangle. Then, she gently pulled down her panties. As she did so, her fuzzy mound came into view, and then I saw every boy’s carnal fantasy, the mystical lips nestled amongst the short hairs in her crotch.

While transfixed by this enchanting view, I realized that my cock was stirring. Soon, it was standing at full attention and wishfully twitching towards its desired target.

I went beetroot red, but Louisa merely giggled. “Did it do that because of me?”

“Yes, you minx. I may not think like a boy, but my cock still does, and the sight of your pussy was more than enough to kindle its interest. I am so embarrassed that I could not stop it from doing its own thing. Still, now you know what it means when a boy has a stiffy or a boner.”

“Well, that solves a mystery of what one girl meant when she said that her brother's friend had a hard-on. Do not be self-conscious. Our special bits can catch us unawares. My fanny actually started quivering of its own accord while your willy was growing."

“Hmm, I wonder what these physical responses mean for our futures.”

“Well, we still have everything on show, but my pussy has calmed down, and your dick has gone to sleep again. It looks like our inner selves were caught on the hop momentarily but have now retaken charge of things. I think that we have just found out that that the boy me and the girl you are our dominant characters.”

“That is a reassuring thought because I have got to like Louisa more than George.”

“I know what you mean. I prefer being George.”

“The moralists will have a field day if they ever find out about us. They will condemn us as an abomination in an instant. Still, it is a risk worth taking if we can be our real selves.”

“I am with you all the way. We will just have to be extra vigilant and keep our activities well below the busybody radar.”

“Good, we will go forward together. Now, I would love to linger here for longer, but we had better head back to school. The teachers have enough reasons for giving out the belt without us providing them with another by being late."

“Yeah, Mrs Smith has it in for me this week and would be more than delighted to have another chance to flex her tawse on me.”

I must confess that although the female me was in control, Louisa's fuzzy fud still mesmerized me. So, I gazed intendedly when she pulled up her knickers and hid it from sight. This close attention, however, revealed something that startled me. Once in place, her panties were smooth at the front – only a slight hint of the mound was evident. In contrast, I remembered that when I wore them, signs of my junk were still noticeable. Until then, I had no inkling of this issue and thanked my lucky stars that none of the girls in the park had spotted my extra bumps. If I wanted to continue as Louisa, I had to find a way to hide my tackle so that panties were as flush on me as on Louisa. But was that even possible?

Louisa and I met again on Thursday and Friday. We were still mulling over the events of Wednesday, so we talked only in generalities about school and home. My main difficulty over those two days was daydreaming about the weekend to come. Inevitably, I fell afoul of two crabbit teachers. Both instructed me to be in their office at the end of the school day. First, they made me take down my trousers and underpants and bend over a desk. Then, one after the other, they vented their anger on my bare behind with an extra-heavy tawse. I lost count of the final tally in the blur of pain, but it was at least sixteen.

The teachers had a plan to maximize my pain. The first laid out seven fiery stripes across my rear, and the second enthusiastically filled in the untouched gaps. Finally, each of them applied diagonal strikes across my bum. I am unsure how many of these hits there were because they broke me straightaway. I screamed as every millimetre of my buttocks went on fire, and waves of unbearable pain surged through my rear. As I lay on the desk sobbing, I caught a glimpse of the huge smiles on the teachers’ faces. I was left with no doubts. This brutality was nothing to do with discipline. Instead, I was no more than a convenient patsy in their sadistic fantasies. Once the torture was over, the teachers left the room laughing, leaving me to compose myself before eventually heading off home.

Mum saw that I was upset and asked me why. I explained that I had got the belt, and she reacted in a manner typical for that time.

“Well, I am sure that you deserved it. I hope you have learned your lesson. You can pop off the bed to reflect on your bad behaviour after supper.”

I had to lay face down on top of the bed that night because my bottom was so tender - every waft of the cool air that blew over it was a blessing. Eventually, the pain diminished enough that I could fall asleep. Even so, my bum was still sore, and I was in a daze when I awoke the following morning. Nonetheless, I got up, dressed, had breakfast, and headed off to school as usual. I was not going to let the teachers defeat me.

Friday was, however, a long day because the whole school knew of my punishment and took great delight in reminding me about it. My constant fidgeting as I tried to get comfortable on my wooden chair was another source of great mirth for my classmates. I passed both teachers in the corridor, and they grinned, still quite happy with their handiwork. It was only anticipation of the Saturday to come that carried me through the day. I still slept on my stomach on Friday night, but I did so between the sheets this time.

The following day, I stayed in bed until I heard Mum go out for the day. Then, I got up, dressed, had a quick breakfast, and headed off to Louisa’s home. She was waiting for me at the back door at the usual time and hugged me tightly when I entered the house.

“I am so glad that you have come. When I heard about what those horrible teachers did to you, I thought that you would need the weekend to recover.”

“No fears. My bottom is still sore, but nothing that a pair of your panties cannot soothe. I can hardly wait to be a girl again.”

We went off to two separate bedrooms, and both changed into PJs. Before Louisa came through to pick up my clothes, I made some modifications to my underpants before putting them on the pile for her. I did not say anything as we exchanged our gear.

Soon I heard Louisa say, “Oh wow, I have got a bulge just like the boys, thank you.”

The reason for this was that I had packed a sock until it was bulkier than my junk and then pinned it inside my drawers. So, voila, when Louisa put them on, she had a pronounced boy bulge. Obviously, she was more than delighted with the evidence of boyhood.

As I expected, Louisa’s soft panties soothed my rear, but they did not wholly hide my boy bits. These were still noticeable even after I carefully tucked my cock between my legs. Unfortunately, there was nothing that I could do about this, so I knew that I would just have to be ultra-careful out there.

Now, I found out that Louisa had a surprise for me. The bra she left for me differed from previous ones – there were pads in each cup, and the backband was shorter than usual. As a result, I struggled to hook up the bra, and when I finally succeeded, the backband was so tight that it pulled my shoulders back. This posture emphasized my outward cleavage - the bra cups were full, pert, and well separated. Once those puppies were under a blouse, I would appear to have an eye-catching rack like girls of my age.

I was admiring my latest look when George came into the room. He grinned as he proudly showed off the boy bulge in her underpants and then beamed from ear to ear when she saw my boobs.

“Phew, that bra has done an amazing job. Boys go gaga over breasts. I do not know why but now they will be desperate to get a glimpse inside your blouse. A hint of bra or boob is enough to turn any boy into a simpering softy. You will need to learn how to use that power."

“Thank you for being good to me. I do feel girly. Despite being a sissy, I know exactly how boys will react to these babies. So why have you not made more use of the tools nature provided?”

"Oh, phooey. I have never wanted to beguile boys, but you need to be ultra-female to carry off your guise. However, I am pleased that you like your assets, and I have something else that can help with your feminine appearance.”

I gasped when George grasped the waistband of my knickers and pulled it out far enough to expose my scrotum. I watched, entranced as he then put a triangular pad inside my panties and slid it down past my balls until the lower tip was touching the middle of the gusset. He then released the waist elastic, and my knickers were pulled back into place. As this occurred, the pad's end settled in my crotch. The remainder of the triangle folded over and covered my boy junk. I was amazed when I looked in the mirror - my bumps were gone, and I was now as smooth as a girl.

"Thank you so much. I did not think this was possible.”

“I knew that you were just as concerned about your boy bulges as I was by my lack of them. When I saw what your handiwork did for me, it dawned on me that this pad might be the answer for you. It certainly seems to have worked. There is no doubt that your secrets will be safe from even highly inquisitive girls.”

What was this magic pad that George put inside the knickers? Well, months were to pass before I found out that it was a camel-toe concealer. However, I can certainly attest that it hid my boy bits just as effectively as it masked the female embarrassment it was designed for.

George and I now had an enthralling lightbulb moment. We had often seen each other fully dressed as our physical gender or as our desired gender before. However, this was the very first time we were in only each other’s underwear. This may not seem a big deal, but it was pivotal for us.

These intimate garments hid vital signs of our physical gender, such as Louisa's breasts and my tackle. But at the same time, they emphasized critical features of our chosen gender, like George’s boy bulge and my cleavage. In that instant, our outer and inner selves became as one. Louisa and I were no longer a boy-girl and a girl-boy. We were just a boy George and a girl, Louisa, with all the emotion that brings.

George took me in his arms. I shivered as his hands settled over the bra backband, and he pulled me into our first real kiss. It must have been beginner's luck because the sweet sensations that swept between us almost overwhelmed me. Even so, I retained enough of my wits to slip my hands under his vest, clasp them behind his back and tighten up our clinch – this session was too good to risk him getting away. We lost track of time within our own sensual world, but I clearly remember when our hands began to wander. I ran mine over his firm, undie-covered buns and pulled him close to me. George soon followed suit, but boys being boys, he, of course, slid his hands inside my knickers to do so. Still, I was not complaining. I quivered as those sensual hands caressed my bum. 

Around twenty minutes later, we broke off, finished dressing, did our makeup, and set off to the park, following the routes we had taken the previous week. I saw several curtains pulled back as the local busybodies spied on me as I walked up the pavement. Once I was clear of this intrusion, I made the mistake of relaxing a little and was caught out by a sudden breeze that whipped up my skirt. This left my pantied bottom in full view of the large group of boys that just happened to be across the street.

I went bright red as they wolf-whistled and hollered while I desperately tried to regain composure. “Whew, where have you been hiding, darling? What a lovely ass? It is a shame to keep it hidden away.”

This noisy disruption caused a few curtains to be pulled open, and several disapproving ladies appeared in view. While they did not like the noise being made by the boys, it was my outrageous display that they were clearly unhappy about. I was, after all, being indiscrete and leading the boys astray. I had to wonder what had turned these women into such sourpusses. In contrast, two old men at their windows were smiling like Cheshire cats. I suppose I could at least take some comfort in the thought that I had brightened up their otherwise dreary day.

George tried to be sympathetic when he saw what happened but could not contain his laughter. “You are certainly learning of the pitfalls of being a girl and always when there are boys around.”

“Yeah, if the story that knicker elastic exposed to light sends out a something-to-see message to boys is true, mine was shouting it aloud today. I now have no doubts about the need to be on my guard all the time.”

We headed off to the park where George was quickly spotted and asked to join a football match. I did not have long to wait before being waved over by the same group of girls from the previous week. We sat and chatted together while casting an eye over the nearby talent.

I just had to laugh along with the others when one girl, Mary, said, “your cousin has a really nice package. I would love to measure it sometime.”  

We were together for about half an hour when it was suggested that we go to the girls' playing field. So, I followed them to a large area with high thick hedging all the way around the outside. This provided a place where girls could safely be and play together away from the intrusive eyes of boys. There were hundreds of girls there taking part in various games or just walking and chatting together. 

All the girls were wearing Aertex blouses and gym knickers. This astonished me because Louisa told me that girls hated wearing them for PE at school. So why was it so different here? I did not have long to think about this because my group funnelled into a pavilion with lockers and changing cubicles. Before I could say anything, Jane, one of the girls, spoke.

“Do not worry. We will find you some gym gear to change into.”

Jane spoke to another girl Jenny, who was about my size. A couple of minutes after the others had headed off to the cubicles, Jenny appeared with the gym clobber for me. I made my way to a booth and got changed. I put on the bottle-green knickers, slipped the triangular pad inside them just as Louisa had done, and then inspected myself. Amazingly, there was nothing to see but a smooth girly front. I then put on the blouse, tidied it into place and finally checked myself in the mirror. I was happy I looked like a girl ready for sport but was shocked to see how much the blouse highlighted my cleavage. Even I could not take my eyes off those protruding puppies. I had hoped to be discrete and unnoticed, but that was not going to happen. I would just have to make the best of things.

I folded up my skirt, blouse, and panties, put them in a locker and then met with the girls. They were happily mingling, chatting, and giggling together in the pavilion. But of course, they spotted my boobies straightaway.

“Wow, are you wearing a padded bra?”

I went bright red. "Yes, with small ones like mine, I need a little help in drawing the attention of the boys.”

“Well, good for you. Maybe you can give us some tips.”

To my surprise, nothing more was said, and we all chatted happily before heading out to the play area. I struggled with this carefree and accepting approach because my experience with boys was so different. When boys closeted in school changing rooms are down to their shorts or underpants, the atmosphere quickly becomes toxic. Boasts and taunts about 'manhood' and cutting challenges to prove you are a real man fill the air.

Eventually, one or two macho boys bare all to show that they are well-hung, and several of the wannabes quickly follow suit. But this is only the appetizer. The real endgame is that the shyest and most reluctant boys are not too subtly 'encouraged' by these macho types to drop their drawers. Once they succumb, these boys are openly shamed and ridiculed for their tackle's small size and unmanly appearance.

As a recognized sissy, I was often selected for extra special attention, even if things in the changing room had not gone this far. I have lost count of how many times I have 'voluntarily’ lowered my undies to avoid having a group of alpha males do the job for me. The long periods of cutting mirth and banter over my now ‘not so privates’ that I inevitably endured were terrible and soul-destroying.

My utter confusion that girls were quite comfortable when together in their gym knickers was therefore understandable. It was only by compassing my emerging female instincts did I finally resolve the puzzle. Two crucial characteristics came to mind. First, girls, unlike boys, generally have strong empathy for each other. Yes, they bicker and have a pecking order, but they instinctively prefer to get along and be friends. Also, competitive physical/sporting prowess is not a big thing for girls. Indeed, it is considered by most to be unfeminine. Through appearance, dress, bearing, and refinement, girls establish a persona and character and attain a standing amongst their peers. This is in many ways be unfair and demeaning to girls but does provide them with opportunities to modify or fine-tune their interactions.   

The switch into gym attire, in fact, provides a unique way for any girl to show deference to her friends. All airs and graces are gone when she is wearing unflattering gym knickers. She is explicitly saying that I am just another girl and want to be friends. As more do the same, a cocoon of feminine equality is established. The girls feel free to let their hair down, be boisterous, and have fun within this safe space. I could think of no more straightforward example of girls being from Venus and boys from Mars.

There were hundreds of similarly attired girls playing or chatting together in this safe play area. But I knew only too well that this practice would attract boys like a magnet. They are inherently curious about the opposite sex and desperate for an opportunity to see partially clothed girls. Who knows, they might even get lucky and glimpse the mother lode. So, I knew there probably were several boys hiding in the hedging and spying on the girls at this very moment.

My misgivings, however, took no account of Mrs Fowlie and Mrs MacDonald, who were employed to guard the girls' play area. These fearsome eagle-eyed ladies patrolled the perimeter with military precision, and any interloper they caught was shown no mercy. They got the mother-of-all bare bottom thrashings from each lady in turn. They were then reported to their parents, who indeed then topped up their agony. The high risk of retribution was more than enough to deter most boys, but without doubt, there were always some who would take the chance for a glance of girls’ hidden secrets. Indeed, there would be a besotted few who considered the wrath of Mrs Fowlie and Mrs MacDonald, even more than once, was a price worth paying for that forbidden view.

The girls and I played many different ball games that day. Who knew that there were so many? I quickly found out that I was a little better at most of them than boys' ones. However, this did not appear to matter - for the girls, taking part and making a fool of themselves while having fun was the most important thing. Oh, so different from bruising must-win boys' games.

The activities eventually got too tiring for Jane and me, so we went back to the pavilion and changed into our dress clothes. I left the blouse and gym knickers in Jenny's locker before we went back outside, found a spot nearby the outer hedge, and sat down to rest. This move seemed to act as a catalyst for the other girls. Soon, all were redressed and gathered again. As we chatted and enjoyed the view, I had a flash of insight that would define me forever. I realized that I was intuitively and emotionally at one with the girls and happy and comfortable with them. This revelation quelled the last uncertainties in my mind. My inner being was, without a doubt, female. Furthermore, the girl within was now in charge. That was why my cock remained dormant even when these knicker-clad girls were up close and personal with me.

An unsettling notion came to mind as we sat together. There was an unbelievable amount of knicker elastic on display. Our group was not so much broadcasting a faint 'something-to-see' message to boys as sending out a booming clarion call. Just as this idea sank in, I heard rustling noises in the nearby hedge. I tensed up straight away, but no one else reacted. I, therefore, assumed that my over-active imagination was playing tricks on me and relaxed. After all, the sounds were probably due to birds. However, I soon realized that this was not the case. I quivered and gasped as Mrs Fowlie, and MacDonald dragged four boys out of the hedge and hauled them off to their office.

Jane said, “What is wrong? You have gone pure white.”

“Those boys were spying on us through the hedge.”

“Oh, that is nothing to worry about. We know that some boys do that. The poor fools, a slight glimpse of pantie makes them so happy, but they do not realize that we are on to them. So, we keep watch and make sure that they never really see anything. If they get overly bold, we just tip the wink to the guardians. Mrs Fowlie and MacDonald will tolerate quite a bit of nonsense from kids. But overstep the mark, and their retribution is swift and painful, as a few of us can testify. They are particularly merciless on boys caught spying on us."

“Those four boys have snooped around here in the past. But today was the first time they got too close for comfort, so the appropriate action was taken. Mrs Fowlie and MacDonald found the scoundrels straight away and, as we speak, will in no uncertain terms be teaching them as to the errors of their ways. Those nosey boys will have problems sitting down for the next few days and will not return here anytime soon. Also, the word will spread, and other boys will stay away, at least until such time as their curiosity overcomes their fear of the retribution.”

“Well, I never. So much for boys being in charge and always getting their own way.”

“It is true that boys are dominant. But they have weaknesses that girls can exploit. We just need to learn what, how, and when to use our female ploys.”

“Now you are making me wonder if those boys were caught by chance or were deliberately lured into a trap by our pantie display."

“I cannot confirm or deny the circumstances, but their eagerness for an undie eyeful was certainly their undoing.”

“Well, I hope that they enjoyed the show because the encore for them will be unforgettable."

We continued to chat until mid-afternoon and then decided we should go home. So, we headed out of the play area gates, said our goodbyes, and went separate ways. I quickly found George sitting on a park bench waiting for me.

“I am sorry. I hope you have not been waiting long. But unfortunately, I lost track of time." 

“No problem. I have only been here a few minutes, and I needed to rest after two hard games of football."

“Wow, you must be exhausted.”

"I am, but I have never felt happier. I enjoy being a boy amongst boys. I like their company, and they accept me in a way that girls have never done. I know that it is early days, but I am keen to know more of my male side.”

“I am glad that you are finding your way. I feel the same about the feminine me. But we must not get ahead of ourselves. We have been cross-dressing for only a short time and have encountered only good things. If we continue, there undoubtedly will be many difficulties and pitfalls to deal with. Still, I am sure that we can overcome them if we stick together.”

“I know that you are right. However, I did have one shock today when we were sitting together between matches. I could not believe how crude and vulgar the boys were when talking about girls. I cannot repeat what two of them said they wanted to do to you. Let us say they intended to outdo rabbits.”

"That is inevitable. It is how boys think, but it is all bravado and boasting. I was also surprised by how graphically girls appraise the local males. You are a well-hung piece of talent, according to two of the more vocal ones.”

George went bright red. “Thankfully, they do not know the truth. We are certainly an odd couple but who better to support each other along our curious routes.”

“Yeah, now that we have both been bitten by the bug, I can help guide you with boy traits, and young can advise me on girly things.”

George and I then took our usual safe routes back to 'his house. We switched clothes, and after a brief cuddle, I left and made my way along the back lanes to my home. I had supper with Mum, chatted with her for a short while and went off to bed early in the evening – to my surprise, being a girl was exhausting. I slept through until late on Sunday but was revved up and ready to tackle school by Monday morning. The week went as usual, including my two ‘favourite’ teachers giving me the tawse for somehow annoying them. Louisa and I continued to meet at lunchtime. It was clear that she was happy with how things had gone on Saturday and keen for more of the same.

Thursday and Friday seemed to be exceptionally long and drawn out. Still, eventually, Saturday arrived, and I made my way to Louisa’s home. After she let me in, we hugged for a short spell, went to separate bedrooms, changed into PJs, and exchanged our clothes. 

I put on my bra, slipped into the panties, and fitted the triangular pad inside them. Then, I went through to the other room where George was just pulling up his drawers. I walked over, took him in my arms, and snogged him with all the intensity I could muster. I wanted to recreate our boy-girl awakening of the week before and my, my, did it work. Again, we went into a sensual daze. This time when I caressed his buttocks, my hands were inside rather than on the outside of his drawers. His buns were firm and inviting, so I could not deny myself the fun. This, of course, gave him the right to pay even more delightful attention to my rear.

Eventually, we broke off, and I went back to my room to finish dressing and getting ready to go out. One shock was how much Louisa's blouse Louisa emphasized my cleavage.  I am sure that was not by pure chance, but what was I to do. As I finished my makeup, George came through.

“Wow, you look fantastic. Far more girly than I could ever be.”

“Do not be silly. Let us just get outside and enjoy the rest of the day.”

As usual, George left via the back door, and I went out by the front. At first, I was okay as I made my way along the street, but I became unsettled when a group of boys approached me. They unleashed a barrage of lewd comments with great delight in which my 'nice titties' featured extensively. Fortunately, it was all bravado. The boys walked on by and left me alone.

George and I met at the top of the street and walked to the park. There were many people there that we had met before. So, in no time at all, George was off with a group of boys, and I was with Jane and her friends. We chatted for a while before heading off to the girls’ play area. In the pavilion, we changed into gym knickers and blouses. Louisa had given me a set of her gym clothes to take with me, and the simple act of changing into them was a fantastic release for me. I no longer stood out as Louisa. Now, I was just another of the girls out to have a good time, and I did.

The one blemish on the day was spotting a girl being harassed and humiliated by another. I immediately recalled how badly Louisa was treated by her bullies, and my natural protective instincts took over. So, I called the tormentor out.

“Leave her alone. She is not doing you any harm.”

“This none of your concern. Go away.”

“I am making it my business. Leave the girl alone."

“Just what are you going to do if I say no.”

My heart was racing, but I stood my ground. “There is an easy way to find out.”

The bully had never been openly challenged before, so she dithered and finally walked away muttering words that I hardly understood. I was shaking like jelly. I could not believe I had taken such a significant risk, but I was glad to have done the right thing and saved a girl from further intimidation.

The girl ran up to me. “How can I ever thank you for dealing with that tyrant. She has gone after me many times and seems determined to break me.”

Before I could say a word, she put her arms around me and kissed me. This was not a peck on the cheek or the lips. Instead, it was a full-blown, no holds barred snog. I was stunned at first by her actions but was then quickly consumed by the delightful sensations passing between us. I happily went with the flow and was gasping for air before she broke off and scampered away.

All the girls around me had an eye-full of this sensual event, but it was Jane who spoke.

“Ooh, you have really made a friend in Sally. She has never smooched anyone so openly and intensely as that. You need to know that she is attracted to girls. That is why the bullies pick on her. We do our best to shield her, but we cannot be there all the time. You have succeeded big time in scaring off Sally’s main tormentor. I think she will be safe for some time, thanks to you.”

My head was in a swirl, partly from the thrills of the snog. But also from the stunning revelation that there were girls who fancied girls rather than boys. Even more, they were known and accepted in the female mix. It was inconceivable that this could happen in a boys’ world, where finding and using a girl was an absolute requirement of manliness. The whole macho ethos would be shattered if it was found that some boys preferred other boys to girls. Anyone even so much suspected of such unmanly behaviour would be persecuted and beaten up by men and boys alike. So, the fact that most girls knew of Sally’s proclivity and were not bothered by it told me so much about their ability to accept, accommodate and deal with the realities of the world. I realized that I was in tune with this enlightening aspect of femininity and happy to embrace it.

We left the play area late in the afternoon, said our goodbyes, and went our merry way. I then met George at our agreed rendezvous point. He looked tired but was clearly over the moon.

“Do you mind if we sit for a while, I need to recover after so many five-a-side football games?"

“Not at all. It will give me time to gather my thoughts."

 I sat down beside George and surveyed the location while he rested. I realized that we were within a cluster of bushes and hidden from sight. The naysayers would have a field day if we were found together like this. Nevertheless, I decided to take a chance. I clasped George in my arms and kissed him on the lips. Soon, we were settled into a long bout of shared passion. I will admit that the kiss with Sally was beautiful, but this one with George was something else. Eventually, we had to take a break.

“What is going on? Why did you do that?”

I explained to George about being smooched by Sally in the play area. "I wondered if snogging you would be the same and decided to find out.”

"Okay, so how did I compare.”

"You were better, far more powerful. That was a male's kiss.”

“Well, thank you. You were no slouch yourself. Come here. I want more of those hot lips."

With that, George pulled me in, and we smooched for about half an hour. We were both consumed in a sensual dream and wanted more. Finally, but reluctantly, we realized that we had to head off home.

The following week was slow and tedious, but Saturday eventually arrived, and I happily made my way to Louisa’s home. We did not linger there. Instead, we quickly changed into each other’s clothes and headed off to the park.

I had a wonderful day with the girls until there was an unfortunate mishap in the afternoon. A pavilion window in the Guardians’ office was cracked when a ball struck it by chance. Like ninjas, Mrs Fowlie and Mrs MacDonald quickly appeared on the scene and rounded up all the nearby girls.

"Okay, who is responsible for this.”

No one moved or said anything.

“All right then, playtime is over. You can all go home and tell your parents why.”

I looked at all the sad faces and imagined the painful retribution that each would face at home. Finally, I decided to take the blame.

“I did it. It was an accident.”

"They all say that. Come with us, girl. You know the price of this behaviour.”

I was dragged into the Guardian’s office, bent over a desk, and then given six of the heavy tawse on my knickers by each of them. Believe me, Mrs Fowlie and Mrs MacDonald were merciless. My bum was on fire and was bubbling like a baby before my punishment was complete.

“Let that be a lesson. Now, tell us why you admitted to something you did not do? We know that it was not you, but having confessed in public, you left us no choice. We had to make an example of you to show that bad behaviour will not be tolerated.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. So finally, I said, "I knew that all the girls would be spanked at home if no one owned up. So I fessed up to save my many friends from unnecessary pain."

“You should not have done that because the perpetrator gets away scot-free.”

"Oh, I would not say that. I think the offender's life will be uncomfortable, to say the least, because most girls know exactly who it was.”

“You were wrong to improperly confess to the misdemeanour, but your heart and, of course, your bottom was in the right place. We will take the matter no further, but do not do it again. Off you go now."

“Thank you, I will try not to misbehave again.”

When I appeared from the office, droves of girls surrounded me, and they smothered me with hugs and kisses.

“Thank you so much. We can hardly believe that you did that.”

“No big deal. Friends look out for each other. I took one for the team so that only one bum was scorched rather than the many.”

“Well, you have more than paid the dues of friendship.”

Most girls mingled and chatted about these events. Then, they slowly returned to their groups and continued with their games. With the waves of pain still coursing through my bottom, I was not too keen to join in these activities, so I wandered off to one side of the field and gingerly sat down. I had just got settled when Sally came and sat beside me.

“Thank you for being such a good friend. I could never have done that, but I can show my appreciation.”

With that, Sally leaned in and kissed me. She seemed to function at only one intensity setting, so as before, this was no perfunctory lip kiss. Instead, it was an all-in breath-taking snog that quickly progressed to a French kiss. I was overwhelmed by delicious new sensations as her tongue sought out mine and tangled with it. We lay down, side by side, held each other close and enjoyed the wonders of shared passion. We must have remained in that enthralling cocoon for about half an hour before Sally eased off and sat up.

"You are hot. I can hardly wait for the next time.”

Sally then stood up and walked off to join her other friends. I took some time to calm down from this erotic encounter, and as I did so, the magnitude of what had just happened finally dawned on me. Although I got very close and personal with Sally, she gave no indication that she thought that I was anything but a girl. Even more, I enjoyed every intimate moment with her, and despite the risks, I was delighted that she wanted more. This made me both happy and confused at the same time. Did my reactions indicate that I was a boy who liked being intimate with girls, or was I the same as Sally, a girl who loved girls?

George and I met up later in the afternoon. He was already at our regular meeting place but not alone. Mary, the girl that fancied him, was there, and they were in a deep smooch. I held back, not wanting to disturb them. Despite my efforts, George spotted me, and they broke off. Mary blushed when she saw me.

“Oh my, what must you think of me.”

“You obviously fancy George. You have good taste. Good, luck.”

Mary scampered off. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

“Well, George you seem to have got lucky. Mary is a really nice girl.”

George blushed. “She is a bit forward, but I like her.”

“Good, I am glad for you.”

A little later, George and I headed off home. We chatted, but I did not tell him about my encounter with Sally. Instead, I decided I would share my newly gained knowledge of the French kiss with him as the starter for the day the following Saturday.

As usual, he took the back lane to the house while I went down the street. A few people were around, but I suffered no mishaps, so I was relaxed when I unlocked the front door and let myself in. I wondered immediately if I had arrived before George because the house was quiet. You could have heard a pin drop.

My heart sank as I made my way to the sitting room and heard a voice, my Mum’s voice.

“Well, come on in, sweetie. Let us see what you look like as a girl.”

George, Judy, and Cathy were sitting together on the sofa. My Mum gave me the steely stare, and I immediately wished that the ground would open and swallow me. I tried to speak, but no words would come out.

“My, my, how sweet. You could be Louisa’s twin. We need to have a very frank talk.”