In the North East of Scotland, large families were the norm even up into the 1950s.  So, when I attended the local Primary School, there were scores of children of my age there, all shapes, sizes, and temperaments. This meld of kids meant that I didn’t stand out from the crowd despite being a softy. My time at Primary School was therefore quite comfortable and peaceful, but this situation changed when I moved up to the Senior Secondary School. The overriding ethos of the school was that boys had to be hard, competitive, and unemotional; the stiff upper lip and all that rubbish. Anyone differing from the macho norm was a legitimate target for bullying. Sadly, this harassment was not only tolerated in the school but was even encouraged by senior staff, who viewed it as character-building. They often added to the misery by the indiscriminate use of the belt on their weaker charges.

Understandably, many kids adopted fake manly personas to escape this bullying, but this of course, just encouraged the boneheads to be harder on the rest of us. I knew that I couldn’t alter my character to satisfy the bullies, so I withdrew completely into myself and tried to become invisible. I became a loner and concentrated on my studies. In time, most of the bullies gave up on me but others, including one particularly nasty teacher, thought that I was disrespecting them and continued to persecute me.

Despite all these aggravations and much to the dismay of many in school, my exam grades were good, and I reached the sixth year with most of the qualifications that I needed to go to the University. Since the sixth form was composed exclusively of academically-minded students, I expected that I’d now be out of harm’s way and, by in large, this was the case. Some ongoing-hassle from the younger boys persisted, but the worst appeared to be over.

A ball out of left field, in the shape of Jenny Tough, now came into play. Jenny and her gang were fearsome, and they ruled the roost over the girls in school. But this was not enough for Jenny. She dreamed of having boys cow-tow to her as well and who better to pick for her first boy target than the one that her bullying brother had failed to break?

On Monday morning, the school secretary Miss Smythe came into our class and handed a note to the teacher.

“John Smith, you are to go immediately to see Miss Abernathy.”

I was dumbfounded. Why would the Deputy-Headmistress want to see me? As I walked out of the class, I noticed several girls were sniggering and chuckling. Did they know something that I didn’t?

The Headmaster was in overall charge of the school, but most of the day to day running was the responsibility of his Deputies; Mr. James oversaw the boys in school, and Miss Abernathy looked after the girls. She was a spinster in her mid-forties and old-school; highly protective of her charges but also very, very strict. She didn’t tolerate any misbehavior or rudeness and had no remorse about active use of the belt to bring miscreants to heel.

Pupils were only called to the Headmaster’s or the Deputy’s office if they’d severely broken the rules. I couldn't think of anything that I'd done recently to merit this request and the fact that I was to see Miss Abernathy rather than Mr. James made it even more mysterious.

When we arrived at Miss Abernathy’s office, Miss Smythe knocked gently on the door.

“Come in.”

I followed Miss Smythe into the office. Miss Abernathy looked up and frowned.

“Come here, boy. Stand in front of the desk. Don’t slouch; stand up straight.”

As I moved into place, Miss Abernathy’s cold stare gave me the shivers. I couldn’t get out of my mind a story that she detested boys with a vengeance and was soon to find out that this was true.

“Now Mr. Smith, you are quite the little pervert, aren’t you?  Not content with flipping my girl’s skirts, you’ve been physically harassing them and copping a feel, as crude parlance puts it.”  

My jaw dropped. I was stunned. From where had Miss Abernathy got these fairy stories?

“It’s no use feigning innocence, young man. Four girls have made statements, and two boys have confirmed them. The only thing to be decided is your punishment. These infractions are so serious that I should send you straight to the Headmaster, but I won’t do so if you accept to be punished by me.”

This offer was highly irregular. If merited, I should have been disciplined at least by Mr. James. I could, therefore, have refused, but I just wanted the nightmare to end with as little repercussion as possible. “I will accept punishment from you for my misbehavior.”

“A wise decision young man, but be aware that I won’t hold back. You’re going to get a lesson that you’ll never forget. You’ll never pester my girls again.”

I cringed when Miss Abernathy took out a heavy three-tailed Lochgelly Tawse from her desk drawer.

“Bend over.”

Resigned to my fate, I did so. I rested my chest on the desk and clasped its far edge with my fingers. Miss Smythe then gripped my wrists and held them down while Miss Abernethy moved around behind me. She undid my belt and pulled down my trousers. Ah well, I should’ve expected that. The Deputies were entitled to give the belt on underwear so why would they dilute its effect by allowing any modicum of extra bottom cover. Miss Abernathy hesitated for a few moments. Then, to my horror, she hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of my underpants and pulled them down below my knees.

I gasped. “Oh no, please Miss, please Miss, not on the bare.”

“It’s the only punishment that fits your offenses. You deserve it. The tariff is ten of the best with extras if you disrupt the proceedings. I can promise you that it’ll be a long time before you forget my belt's close encounters with your butt.”

By now, I was desperately hoping that Miss Abernathy wasn’t as handy with the belt as her reputation suggested. The first strike shattered any illusions. Heat and pain seared into my bum as each of the three tails dug into my buttocks and released their pent-up venom. This agony continued to build and spread throughout my bottom while Miss Abernathy drew back and readied for her second strike. The pain was reaching its peak when the tawse hit home again, further ratcheting up my agony as did strikes three, four and five. Oh, my goodness, Miss Abernathy may be petite, but she was master of this art; after just five hits my ass was ablaze. How could I deal with another five?  

“Please Miss, stop, I can’t take any more.”

Miss Abernathy was unrelenting despite these plaintive pleas. “Be quiet, you deserve the full quota, and that’s what you’re going to get. You’ve also earned two extras for whining.”

I’m sure that Miss Abernethy put an extra effort into the remaining strikes because those malevolent tails drove me over the edge. I broke down to a gibbering, sobbing wreck.

As I lay there on the desk, I heard a very croaky voice. “This part is over. You did well. Lay there for a while and recover.”

Through my tears, I saw Miss Abernathy stagger over to her chair and slump into it. She was very flustered and breathing erratically. My immediate thought was that she was exhausted from her efforts, but then I noticed that Miss Smythe was similarly afflicted. Their reactions weren’t due to exhaustion. The earth had just moved for both ladies. One thing was sure; I wasn't the only one that needed to regain composure. 

I stayed in position for some time, still struggling with the repeating waves of pain coursing from my glowing bottom. Every waft of cold air was absolute bliss. I was focussed on the wildly varying sensations in my butt when Miss Abernathy spoke.

“Now Mr. Smith, I’m sure you’ll not forget that part of your punishment in a hurry. Get to your feet and make yourself decent.” 

As I was gingerly trying to get my drawers and trousers up in place, it dawned on me that Miss Abernathy had said "...that part of your punishment." Was this not enough? What other agonies did she want to inflict on me?

Seeing the realization on my face, Miss Abernathy said, “I want to be sure that you’ll never annoy my girls again, so I’ve arranged something special to reinforce the message. You will go to Miss Smythe’s office and recover until lunchtime. She will then take you to the School Nurse, whose instructions you will follow to the letter.”

Like a sheep, I followed Miss Smythe to her office, sat down and bided my time. Those plastic chairs were not built for comfort, especially when supporting a newly thrashed behind. I could see Miss Smythe chuckling at my discomfort.

Later Miss Smythe took me through to Mrs. Jones, the School Nurse.    

“Now Mr. Smith, I’m told that you’ve had an interesting morning. I must check that you are okay. Go behind the screen and strip off.”

I did so and reappeared wearing only my underpants.

“No, no. Take your drawers off as well. I am doing a full examination. Don’t be shy. I’ve seen it all before.”

I wasn’t so sure that Miss Smythe was so experienced but thought ‘what the hell’ and took off my undies.

Mrs. Jones didn’t react, but Miss Smythe went bright red at my nudity.

“Now, get onto the trolley and lay face down on it.”

As soon as I did this, Mrs. Jones began examining my bottom.

“Oh my, Miss Abernathy must’ve been particularly upset with you.”

“Yes, I’ll not forget the message anytime soon.” 

Mrs. Jones then began to rub lotion onto the tenderized cheeks. These actions were soothing and drew out much of the remaining heat from my ass. I was enjoying this blissful massage and not paying much attention to anything else when Mrs. Jones slipped her hand under me, grasped my cock and fed it into an elasticated sheath that she had in her other hand. She then passed a garment linked to the sheath underneath me, clicked shut the two halves of its waistband and pulled the sheath up between my legs before locking it in place with two straps that went over my buttocks and clipped onto the waistband.

“What’s going on? What are you doing to me?”

“Well, if you're to be a girl, we can't have unsightly boy bulges showing themselves, can we? Now, sit up on the edge of the trolley.”

Mrs. Jones held a hand mirror in front of me. What the hell? My boy bits were gone, replaced by a triangle of short brown hair. Instead, almost concealed amongst fuzz there now was a distinct and lipped gash in my crotch. I’d no idea what this new area was but did sense that it lay over the pee hole of my now trapped willy.    

“That’s much better. A nice girly mound in place of those ugly boy parts,” said Miss Smythe.

I went berserk and started shouting. “Stop this. Enough is enough. What is going on? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Well, if you’re to be a schoolgirl for this week everything has to be tickety-boo. You’ll have to dress, act and behave like a girl. This transformation is the first step. You now have the outline of a pussy and will have to pee sitting down.”  

“Are you mad? No way am I going to be a girl, not in a million years.”

“Of course, you are. You agreed to be disciplined by Miss Abernathy. The second part of her sentence is for you to have actual experience of the perils of girlhood.”

“But I never expected this.”

“Did you ask what was the full punishment?”

“No, I accepted my fate and assumed that a belting was to be it.”

“Well, now you know it wasn’t. I’m sure you’ll be more careful about what you agree to in the future.”

There was no point in arguing. I’d fallen into a trap and just had to accept it.

“Okay do your worst.”   

“Right, now put these on.”

I looked down to find Mrs. Jones holding up a pair of shocking pink panties. I slipped my feet into them, and she gently pulled them up around my still tender bottom. They were a delight, so smooth and soft and figure hugging. Next, Mrs. Jones fitted a bra with inbuilt breast forms on me. The boobs were huge, very heavy, and made me feel unsteady.

“Stop whining. The breasts are a normal size for a girl of your age. Buck up and get used to them.”

I stood up and looked at myself in a full-length mirror. I found my appearance unsettling. I should’ve been angry at being forced to wear a bra and panties, but to my amazement, I wasn’t. Indeed, I was at ease in them. The undies looked good and felt nice. I was at one with them. Why on earth was I reacting this way? I was a sensitive boy, not a girl, so I should only like boy’s wear.  

I didn’t have time to linger over this dilemma. Mrs. Jones was on a mission and soon had me dressed as a schoolgirl; camisole, white blouse, half-slip, and a navy knee length pleated skirt, all finished off with white socks and Mary Jane shoes. Once she fitted me with a medium length wig, I could at a distance have passed muster as a schoolgirl, but anyone close at hand would still instantly recognize me as a boy in a skirt. But, of course, that was deliberate and a part of my punishment.

My head was now in a spin with contradictory thoughts. I was terrified to be dressed as a girl but, as before, remarkably comfortable in this girl’s outfit. Physically I was a boy, albeit a sissy, but now in this cocoon of femininity I felt giddy and dare I say it, girly. What was happening to me?

I couldn’t help feeling exposed. I’d revealed more when I was in short trousers, but then my down-there essentials were encased in at least two layers of robust material. Now, there was only a wafer-thin piece of cloth between my privates and the outside world. Yes, I had a slip and skirt but, unlike even the youngest of girls, I did not know how reliable they were or how to control them to keep my lower regions concealed. The variable breeze from a fan in the room which ruffled my slip and skirt and threatened to lift them didn’t help to quell my discomfort.

“Now Joan, you look perfect, be a good girl and go with Miss Smythe.”

Miss Smythe took me by the hand and led me along the main corridor to the boy-free sanctuary that was the girl’s cloakroom. I blushed as the few girls that were in there looked at me in stunned silence.

“This is Joan Smith; she will be with us for the rest of the week. Please take care of her.”

The jungle telegraph did its magic, and soon I was surrounded by hundreds of girls all wanting to get a glimpse of the boy dressed as a girl. Prominent amongst them was Jenny Tough, who was grinning as she prodded me and patted my still tender bum. “I look forward to seeing you later. We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

Miss Smythe took control and led me further into the cloakroom towards the loos.

“You’re going to have a very stressful afternoon. I think it would be wise to go before you start your classes. You don’t want to risk having an accident.”

She opened the door of a cubicle and ushered me in. “I’ll stand guard to be sure you’re not disturbed.”

I was very nervous. I knew that I had to sit to pee but was now scared that my fittings wouldn’t do their job and I’d wet myself. Imagine the glee that would cause. I needn’t have worried. Soon, I was seated with my knickers at my knees and liquid tinkling from between my legs into the pan. This flow suddenly stopped when a cacophony of noise built up outside the cubicle door. Were the girls waiting for me? Could they see me? All irrational thoughts of course but I was hardly in a normal situation. I relaxed and finished off once it dawned on me that I wasn’t their primary interest. They were dealing with the same urgent needs as me, before going to their classes. As the noise declined, I relaxed, dried myself, pulled up my knickers and tidied down my slip and skirt. As I came out of the cubicle, the school bell rang. I washed and dried my hands, and then Miss Smythe took me along to my class and introduced me to the teacher.

“This is Miss Smith. She will be joining us for the rest of the week.”

The whole class erupted in laughter, and it took the teacher quite some time to regain control. He lost it again as I was walking to my seat. “No, no, Miss Smith you sit over on the right with the rest of the girls.” So, with laughter ringing in my ears, I had to walk back to the only free seat in the front row of the girl’s section. I sat down beside Beth and Mandy who were struggling hard not laugh at my predicament. The lesson went along okay, except for a breakout of chuckling each time the teacher asked Miss Smith to answer a question. One odd thing that I noticed that afternoon was that boys called out to write on the blackboard seemed quite distracted and unable to do their tasks properly.

The time that I was dreading, the afternoon break soon arrived. I tried to follow Beth and Mandy out of class but was immediately pounced upon by Jenny and her gang. They dragged me out into the girl’s playground and passed me around the groups of girls that were out there. I will not detail what happened. Suffice it to say that every indignity suffered by girls at the hands of insensitive boys were inflicted on me many times over. I was a disheveled mess by the end of the break and only with the help of Beth and Mandy was I able to tidy and compose myself enough to continue in class. Without any doubt, I now appreciated just how frightening and demeaning boy pranks were for girls.

The remainder of the afternoon passed quietly. I went to Mrs. Jones room and changed back into my boy clothes after she checked that I hadn’t picked up any severe bruises or scratches from the melee in the afternoon. Many robust comments were made to me by boys in the playground as I headed off home.

Mum noticed that I was inordinately quiet that evening. “You look pale. Are you ill?”

My bottom certainly didn’t feel pale, but I just said, “I had a hectic day at school. I think that I’ll have an early night.”

At first, I tossed and turned as I mulled over all the extraordinary events of the day but eventually, fatigue took over, and I slept right through to morning. Mum was surprised but pleased that I got up, dressed, had breakfast and left for school without any hassle from her. I headed off early because I didn't want to risk punishment for lateness.

I went to Mrs. Jones room, and like the previous day, she helped me change into the school uniform. Strangely, I felt less at ease in the outfit than on the day before. Probably a result of my playground traumas. I steeled myself and headed along the corridor to class. Inevitably, my ears rang to a barrage of crude comments. “You can’t avoid us forever. We’re going to sort you out for good sissy boy.”

Morning classes went fine but then came break time when I was pounced on again by Jenny and the gang. “We have a special surprise for you. Something to put you in your proper place.”

I was dragged to the far end of the cloakroom, bent over a bench and my hands tied to a hook. I saw that two hairbrushes and two plimsolls were laying nearby. Jenny flipped my skirt up, and then spanked each cheek hard three times with her hand. She was fit and didn’t hold back; it hurt even with pantie protection. She followed this with three hard swats with a hairbrush and three breath-taking strikes with a plimsoll. When the gym shoe struck home for the final time, it may as well have been on the bare. My rear was hot and sore.

I could hardly believe my ears when I then heard Jenny say to her gang, “I promised you a treat, she’s all yours, one cheek each.”

One girl stood to the left and one to the right and in synchrony proceeded to smack each cheek six times. They then slapped each buttock three times with a hairbrush and then a gym shoe. There were four girls in the gang, so the math is quite simple. The hits were nowhere near as hard as by Miss Abernathy the day before, but they were unremitting and on both cheeks simultaneously. So, I was racked with pain and howling by the time the gang finished their fun.

There was a huge crowd of girls standing watching these events and two, Beth and Mandy, were dragged out by gang members.

“You two have been selected to do the final honors. Remember you’ll get the same if you hold back or don’t do it properly.”

Beth stood to the left and Mandy to the right, and both smacked my bum.

“Harder, much harder or suffer the consequences.”

Self-preservation kicked in, and Beth and Mandy did some severe damage to my cheeks with hand, hairbrush, and gym shoe. My bottom was very, very tender and I was bawling. Beth and Mandy were also in tears.

Jenny slapped me on the bum. “Okay, fun over. The sissy knows their place.”

The crowd disappeared like snow in summer, leaving only Beth and Mandy with me. They freed me from the hook but were still crying their eyes out. “We are sorry. We didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, you did what you had to under duress. I’m not upset with you. Let’s put this behind us.”

The three of us headed to the loos to tidy up before the next class. The girls already in there sheepishly sneaked out, obviously embarrassed to have stood by and done nothing to stop the attack. Beth, Mandy and I were first back to class. Those hard seats did nothing for my tender behind, but I managed to get through to lunchtime without fidgeting too much.

If I thought that the worst was now over, I was wrong. Jenny and the gang grabbed me again, pushed me through the gate to the boy’s playground and locked it behind me. The boys had been given the heads up because they caught me straight away.

“Now, you’re going to find out what we do to sissy boys.”                        

For the next half hour, I was a plaything to be teased and pawed with abandon. My skirt was flipped or pulled up so often that my knickers were in full view most of the time. Given this opportunity, many boys succumbed to the urge to smack a pantied bottom.

One particular boy grabbed me and swatted my bum several times. “That’s for getting me into trouble with the teacher yesterday afternoon. Never mind the day wasn’t all bad. Last night, I beat off three times while thinking of the pink triangle between your legs.”

Several boys goosed me, and sadly a supposed friend decided to take things a bit further. 

“Hey, he hasn’t got any balls. Let’s see what he does have down there.”                                   

With that, he pulled my knickers down and revealed my fud. Horrified and sick to the stomach, I was desperately trying to cover myself when the unexpected happened.

“Wow, she’s a girl, not a fella.”

The hardest of the hard bullies came over, helped me cover myself and led me back to the playground gate. Two girls gasped as they saw me and let me through. They helped me clean up, redress and tidy myself in time for our return to class. I remember nothing about that course except that it was very subdued. Everyone, boys and girls, seemed to know what had happened.

At break time, I rushed to the loo in dire need. Luckily I got there in time. After, I went to the furthest corner of the cloakroom to sit in solitude. I was bruised, sore, humiliated and confused all at the same. I was sobbing gently when two senior girls, Isobel and Jane, came over to comfort me.

“There, there, it’s so unfair how everyone has been bullying you, but I think the worst is over. There will still be the odd boy or girl that doesn’t accept you, but most are impressed by how you’ve handled things and accept you for who you are.”

“Thank you for being so kind. There are so many things that I don’t understand about today. Why did nobody stop Jenny and her gang, why did the hardest bully stop the boy's attack, and what did that boy mean when he said that he beat off to the pink triangle between my legs?”

They chuckled to themselves. “You have a lot to learn. The girls are terrified of Jenny. That is why Beth and Mandy couldn’t refuse to punish you. Don’t worry; Jenny will soon get her comeuppance.”

“Well, I tried to reassure Beth and Mandy that I didn’t blame them.”

“About the boy bully, unbelievable as it may seem, they have a strict code. Beating up other boys, particularly wimps, and even harassment of girls is okay but stripping or hitting of girls is an absolute no-no. Once he saw your pussy, he’d no choice but to stop things and bring you back.”

“But he must know that I’m a boy.”

“Well, the moment he saw that you had a fud he had to obey the code.”

“Wow, it’s hard to believe, but I’m relieved that he saved me.”

“The bully isn’t the only confused one. You have all our other hormone-challenged boys in a dither. Dressed like a girl and in the girl’s section in class, you are fresh eye candy, who might accidentally reveal more than a good girl should. Haven’t you noticed how keen they are to try to get a glance down your blouse or up your skirt?”

“I have, and they make me very uncomfortable. Why are boys so obsessed with a girl’s hidden jewels? Do they think of nothing else? Oh my, that boy who wanked himself off, was he fantasizing of shagging me while he did the deed?”

“Yep, him and many others, welcome to life as a sex object.”

“Oh dear, this is too much to handle.”

Both girls kissed me on the cheek. “Patience, things will work themselves out. Better get back to class.”

The afternoon passed very slowly, but eventually, I headed to Mrs. Jones room. After undressing, she tended to the scratches and bruises I'd acquired on my body and bum that day. 

“Dear me, you have been in the wars haven’t you.”

“Let's just call it a steep learning curve.”

“Okay, but if you need to talk, I am available any time.”

I changed into my boy wear and headed home. This time there was only silence as I went through the play area, and Mum just accepted my quietness that evening as a throwback to what afflicted me the day before.

Only as I lay in bed did the enormity of the day hit me. The boys now think that I’m a girl and may even believe I’ve been a girl dressed as a boy all along. On the other hand, the girls know that I’m a boy, but now some of them are treating me more and more like a girl. I’m stuck in the middle. I know that my life will be a living hell if I try to revert to boyhood after this week is over, but I can’t envisage an acceptable alternative. Having a boy in a dress around for a few days may be fun for the girls, but they are unlikely to be comfortable with it in the long-term. There was nothing I could do but let things develop over the next three days.

Next morning, to my surprise and delight, Beth, Mandy, Isobel, and Jane were waiting outside Mrs. Jones room for me. “We’re going to look after you and keep you safe from Jenny and her hangers-on.”

We walked as a group to our various classes, and at breaktimes at least two of the girls stayed close. The bullies stayed away, my tensions diminished, and I relaxed as the day went on. I also found that girls were increasingly willing to chat with me or bring me into their groups.

“You’re one of us now. You’ve faced the worst bullying that any girl has to deal with and survived. Now, you should learn the good things about being a girl.”

During the afternoon break, I found myself sitting amongst a group of ten girls. I people watched. The girls were open, intense and expressive to each other. Yes, there was some bitching, but in the most, they were understanding, empathetic and supportive. The girls had a bond and no reservations of showing their affection for each other. Oh, so different from the often bitter authoritarian atmosphere of a boy group. The girls tried hard to include me in their conversations, and after a few false starts we found common ground on clothes; the girls knew what they liked but wanted to know what looked good to boys. I found it surprising just how diverse were their perceptions of beauty and saddened to see that these girls already felt pressured to dress to impress boys rather than to feel good in themselves. I'd never had such free conversation with anyone before, so I was sad to have to end it and head back to class.

The next day followed a similar pattern. The girls included me in more and more of their activities, and I was happier than ever before in school. Of course, the mischievous nature of the girls sometimes came to the fore. They took great delight in getting me into situations where I flashed my knickers to the world, but, unlike with boys, I knew that their teasing was all in good fun.

I went to Mrs. Jones room to get changed late that afternoon.

“You look both happy and concerned at the same time.”

“I’m comfortable and content to be with the girls, but I can’t understand why. After all, I’m a boy, not a girl.”

“We’re all brought up to believe boys are boys and girls are girls and ne’er the twain shall meet, but it isn’t true. Boys have a feminine side and girls have a masculine side. These cross-gender instincts are generally suppressed and hidden, but in some individuals, they come to the surface for a while. That’s why we have Tomboys and Janegirls.”

“Oh, I see. So, it’s just a phase.”

“In most cases, it’s only for a short time, but in a few, it’s deeper and long-term.”

“So, what am I?”

“Please don’t be shocked. I believe that your feminine instincts are stronger than your male ones. You’re like a girl in a boy’s body.”

I struggled hard to deny this concept, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Mrs. Jones was correct.

“That’s why I’m comfortable around girls but not with boys. Oh my, oh my, now that the genie's out of the bottle what am I to do?”

“Unfortunately, society doesn’t give you easy choices. You must match your body and hide your feminine side or become a de facto female. There are no in-betweens, and each option is a minefield of problems.”

“Just when I was beginning to feel happy another spanner drops into the works.”

Despite this, I was buoyant when I arrived home.

“Good to see your smile again.”

“The last two days have been good; I’m happier than for a long time.”

While I lay in bed that night, all the points made by Mrs. Jones circled in my head. I’d expected to agonize over them for hours, but to my amazement, the decision to be made was an easy and obvious one, provided it was possible in practice.

Next morning, I asked Mrs. Jones to take me to Miss Abernathy.

“Come in Mrs. Jones. How can I help?”

“Miss Smith would like to see you.”

"Oh, that is very timely. I was about to get Miss Smythe to fetch her."

My bottom quivered at the thought that I must be in trouble again, but Miss Abernathy smiled.

“No need to be worried. Just take a seat.”

Still quite nervous I sat down on a chair at Miss Abernathy’s desk.

"I have a heartfelt apology to make to you. I was informed only yesterday by several girls that the tales about you harassing my girls were a fabrication, lies spread by Jenny Tough and her cohort. Nothing I can say can take back the pain that in my anger I inflicted on you. I can only say that I’m sorry. I don’t know why this bully picked on you, but I assure you she’ll get her just desserts.”

I hadn’t anticipated this turn of events, but it didn’t change my situation. I’d already decided what I wanted to do.

“Jenny picked on me as a sissy that wouldn’t fight back. Miss Abernathy, there’s no need to apologize. Although my bottom mightn’t agree, I should thank you. The events of this week have let me discover a feminine side that I want to develop. I want to ask you if it is possible for me to attend school as a girl for the rest of the year.”

“Well, this is a first and certainly not what I expected. Are you sure about this? Are you aware of the implications and the difficulties that you’ll face?

“I know that it’ll be hard and that I’ll have many heartbreaks. But I want, and need, to do this, provided you and the girls are comfortable with my presence.”

“Your request is unprecedented for this school but in principle, I’ve no objections, and I know that the girls are unlikely to have problems with the idea. All those that I talked with yesterday emphasized your already female manner and their wish to support and encourage it. I will see if this change is possible. Miss Smythe can you arrange an appointment with the Headmaster for me. Mrs. Jones, I’d like you to be there as well.  Miss Smith, you can go to your classes, and I will call for you later when I know more.”

The morning dragged on at a snail’s pace. I chatted with a few girls at break time but wasn’t taking in what they were saying. Just before lunch break, Miss Smythe came to take me to Miss Abernathy. As I left the class, you could’ve heard a pin drop; everyone was desperate to know what was going on.

I was relieved to see that Miss Abernathy was smiling.

“The Headmaster wasn’t supportive of the idea at first, but after finding out from Mr. James about the severe bullying that you face daily and hearing of your acceptance amongst the girls, he has agreed to your request. There are however strict conditions. Once you’ve entered this path, there is no turning back. You must attend as a girl for the remainder of the year, you must participate in all activities carried out by girls in the school, and you are subject to the same discipline as any other girl in the school. You already know that the latter can be very painful. Do you agree to the stipulations?”

Miss Abernathy, Miss Smythe, and Mrs. Jones were positively beaming when I accepted.

“You can continue to change in my room when you come to school.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jones. I will take you up on that offer if things do not go to plan. I’m going to ask my mother tonight to let me be a girl full-time.”

“Good luck with that. Hopefully, your Mum will be supportive but remember whatever happens we’ll be here for you.”

“One thing before I go. Please don’t punish Jenny Tough for setting me up. She’ll treat it as a badge of honor that she was able to bully a boy. Bide your time; I think that the opportunity for justice will come quite soon.”

“You’re a very astute girl. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have heard about that, but I will look forward to it with relish.”

I had just left the office when Beth, Mandy, Isobel, and Jane rushed over to me. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s agreed that I can attend the school as a girl for the rest of the year provided that I take part in everything that girls do in school.”

“That’s wonderful. Welcome aboard Joan. Hmm, we didn’t have the domestic sciences or PE this week. They could be challenging for you, but I’m sure you’ll survive.”

I was mulling this over as we headed to the cloakroom. The word soon spread. The girls welcomed me with open arms. I was hugged and kissed by so many that tears of joy welled up in my eyes. The only negative vibes came from Jenny and her followers, but that was for settling on another day.

Beth and Mandy lived on streets close to mine, so I asked them if I could walk home with them at the end of the day.

“Sure, but why specifically tonight?”

“This will be my first time in uniform outside of school.”

“Oh, that’ll be very scary for you. No problem, we’ll be glad to accompany you. You’ll be less conspicuous with other girls.”

So, at the end of the day, Beth, Mandy and I headed off home together. For the first time, I left the school by the girl’s playground and the girl’s gate.

We were just a few feet outside the entrance when a gust of wind flipped up my skirt and exposed my panties. Beth and Mandy helped me restore my dignity. “Just as well that you weren’t alone. You have a lot to learn about skirts. Don’t worry we will help you keep control.”

Fortunately, the rest of the walk went without escapade. I saw Mum watching from the window as we arrived outside my house.

Beth and Mandy said, “Good luck.”

I hugged them both and kissed each on the cheek before heading up the garden path. I saw the look of complete bemusement on Mum’s face as she watched me. The door was open before I reached it. “Get into the house now before anyone sees you. What is going on here? Why on earth are you dressed as a schoolgirl? Was this for a bet?”

I struggled to put words together. “No Mum. It’s much more complicated. We need to talk.”

Mum and I went through to the living room, sat together and I told her the whole story. In the end, Mum didn’t say a word. She just got up, went to her room and shut the door. Almost fifteen never-ending minutes elapsed before she called for me.

I went through to Mum’s room in utter trepidation, but then I saw that she was smiling and there was a selection of girl’s clothes on her bed. Quickly, Mum took me in her arms and hugged me.

“Well, sweetie you’ve certainly caught me on the hop tonight. Are you sure that you want to do this? Life isn’t all sweetness and light for girls. They face many hardships, and a girl-boy will have many, many more.”

“Yes, I do. I am happier and more satisfied as a girl than as a boy. I like my female-persona and need to find out if it is or isn’t the real me.”

“I’ve always known you had strong feminine instincts, but now it seems to me that you’re far more female than male. I want you to be happy so let's encourage your inner self to flourish and see where it takes us.  I’m not so much losing a son as gaining a daughter.”

“Thank you. I will try to make you proud.”

“Remember, you won’t have the same leeway as a girl that you had as a boy. Girls must always be dutiful and well behaved, or else. My Mum kept me in line by vigorous application of the slipper when required; I will do the same."

“I will do my best to be a good girl.”

“Okay, let’s get you out of these formal clothes and into something a little more leisurely.”

I suddenly felt like a little girl as my Mom undressed me, even taking off my bra and panties. She looked at me. "Oh my, that mock pussy makes you look like a real girl.”

I blushed red and even more so when Mum held up a pair of frilly white panties.

“Here, step into these, honey.”

At that moment, I was Mum's little girl and so proud to let her fulfill a dream of pampering and fussing over a daughter. The smile on Mom’s face was priceless. Mum then fitted me with a padded bra, somewhat bigger and heavier than the one that I had been wearing. Then there was a knee-length full slip and dress. Mum zipped me up at the back before she fitted me with socks and slippers.

“Give us a twirl.”

I spun around, and the slip and skirt swished outwards and then settled cozily around my legs. I felt so feminine in that moment of release.

Mum was beaming. “You’re beautiful. Now, we’d better eat. Go set the table, and I’ll put out our meal.”

I could see that she was frowning as I headed through to the kitchen. “I can see that we have a lot of work to do before you’re a proper lady.”

I’d set the table, Mum had put out the food, and I was about to sit down.

“Stop, you need to be sure not crease your skirt when you sit.” Mom then showed me how to flatten it with my hands just before sitting. “That prevents crinkling. You must do that every time you sit down. Another important thing is to check that your knees are together. You don’t want to risk showing your undies.”

“Hmm, I’ve already had experience of the panty flash.”

Mum chuckled when I told her about the boy and my pink triangle and the events during my walk home. “So, you already know that you need to take care.”

We had our meal, I helped Mum do the washing up, and we sat together on the sofa for a while before she went off to make some telephone calls. She came back after half an hour.

“I’ve just talked with Miss Abernathy, and we’ve agreed that my niece Miss Joan Smith will attend the school for the remainder of this year while my son does work experience in his uncle’s company. There are some things that you will need for school so we will go shopping for them tomorrow.”

“Thank you for being so understanding Mum.”