For a Girl - J.T. D'Arelli (audio ebook reader txt) 📗

Sue took my arm — at least we could still touch each other — had we both been guys, it would have been hands off. A little shaky, we made it to the administrative office. The GRS staff had consulted with the school — the paperwork of gender and name change already been set up. But I did need to sign some forms and so forth. The two secretaries were apparently delighted with my femininity. "Isn't she just the cutest thing?" I overheard one say.

Mixed feeling here — I didn't like being a cute thing, and yet...

I also saw the principal — Mr. Grogan. He came out of his office while I was finishing up.

"So you're Stephanie, now?" he said. I felt a little uncomfortable as he looked me up and down — his eyes lingering on my breasts and my bare legs. I suddenly wished I weren't wearing a skirt. There was just something about the way he... well, 'leered' would be too strong a word, but it seemed like that anyway.

"Yes, Mr. Grogran," I replied, a bit intimidated.

"You're the first person I've ever seen who's gone through GB. You certainly turned out to be a lovely little lady. Yes, very lovely indeed," he said slowly, creeping me out even more.

He was a tall man, with a full head of dark hair. I'd heard some of the female teachers refer to him as a handsome guy — but the girls said he made them feel uneasy. I could now see why. Maybe I can accept boys drooling over me... after all, I used to be one myself so I can have a little sympathy for them. But a grown man? Ugh.

He continued. "Well, young lady, I know you're going through a lot of adjustments. If you ever need to talk, my door is always open."

"Thank you, Mr. Grogan." Sue quickly took my arm again and pulled me out the door. I could still feel him watching me as I walked away.

"That was bizarre," I said to Sue.

"He's always been that way. He's never touched anyone as far as I know, but it still feels..."

"Degrading?" I finished.

"Yeah. How come some men are like that, Stephanie?"

"I think they just never finish growing up. One thing's for sure — I'm going to steer clear of him."

"I guess your feminine intuition is kicking in."

I smiled at that. "God knows I need it — the way I look now."

While walking to my locker I was still adjusting to my very female outfit. The silky panties caressed my butt in a quite stimulating way. The lace on the leg bands tickled me near some very personal places. Boxers had never captured my attention like this! And I continued to be intrigued by the skirt — the way it swirled around my thighs, the hem gently swaying as I walked. I felt this sensation of being... open, somehow. I can't really describe it — but wearing a skirt made me feel more girly, more cute and more... vulnerable all at the same time.

I did notice with relief that I was adopting some of the mannerisms I'd seen on other females. I constantly reached up to brush my hair back from my face — a routine that was becoming automatic. I occasionally tugged on the straps of my bra, gently stretching across my slim shoulders. My hips swayed just by walking — I didn't have to try to move like a girl... I just did it. My arms swung a bit wider than before, to account for my new anatomy. I still felt a little clumsy in this body, despite its natural grace — but I did appear like a real young woman. Hardly my choice, of course — but I felt less freakish than before. You may think it odd that I truly wanted to act like a girl — but my goal was simple: just fit in.

Next to my locker, I spotted Becky and Hal. Unlike before, they weren't holding hands — though they appeared to be having a spirited conversation. They turned to look at us.

"Ja... Jack?" Becky said uncertainly.

"In the flesh," I responded. "Albeit a little differently shaped."

"Good Lord, you're adorable!" You know, that reaction was becoming less bothersome to me as time went by. "How do you like it so far?"

"I'd like it a lot more if this damn bra didn't dig into me so much," I said, struggling once again with the straps.

"Ah, the price of femininity," Becky commiserated. "But with a chest like yours, it's par for the course."

"I'd rather be a couple of strokes under par than over it. How do you all ever get used to these things?"

"Years of practice. You never got a chance to wear a training bra, so for you it's like going from fifth grade to the varsity team in one weekend."

Meanwhile, Hal just gazed at me, stunned. It was so odd to have to stare up at him now. I saw an expression in his eyes I'd seen before — when he'd looked at Becky.

Uh, oh.

She grabbed one of my arms and Sue took the other. "Time for some girl talk, Hal — no boys allowed," Becky said as they hustled me down the hall. I thought I saw a look of wistfulness on Hal's face and I was amazed to feel a hint of smugness as we both realized I'd just gained entrance to a private club he could never join.

We arrived at a quiet corner where I explained my name change and gave Becky an abbreviated version of my Girl School experiences.

"I'm impressed, Stephanie. You seem to be handling this so well. I told you it would work out."

"Becky, not to get your hopes up, but the jury's still out. I'm not sure about anything yet, especially how I'm going to pee while in this getup."

"Don't worry. You'll figure it out. Speaking of which — Sue, how the heck did you get her into a skirt?"

"Oh, just a little peer pressure," Sue replied. "She won't admit it, but I think she's starting to like it."

Both girls turned to me. "Well, I wouldn't go that far — let's just say I'm giving it a chance."

"You go, girl," Becky said — half mocking, half serious. "Remember, I'm on your side, too."

With that, I went to homeroom. Everyone froze in place — gazing at me while I took Jack's chair. The attendant called my old name, I had to correct her in that breathy, little-girl voice I'd acquired. The usual whispers began. While sitting there, I noticed a boy a couple of rows ahead had bent over to tie his shoe. He seemed to be taking a long time, until I realized what was going on.

He was peeking up my skirt! Being a veteran of such techniques in my younger days, I knew how easy it was to catch a 'money shot' if a girl was not alert. Which was the problem — my knees were a few inches apart. Not much, but enough to give him a thrill. Instantly, I crossed my legs — blushing the whole time. All right, I will admit it — I was beginning to enjoy wearing pretty panties. But there was no way I wanted to model them for the guys!

From that point forward, I kept my thighs practically welded together under my skirt. During the next two classes, I got lots of comments from the other (other!) girls about my looks, my clothes and so on. Most of them were positive — in fact, a surprising number of girls seemed to believe my transformation was actually cool. Their attitude was that going from boy to girl could be construed as a... promotion. I was a long way from that — I still felt as though I'd been downsized. Literally.

On the other hand, the guys were more distant — socially that is. It was for sure they were checking me out intensely. But I could tell they were rattled by it all. And I knew why. On the one hand, I was an attractive young woman — and they were attracted. On the other hand, they knew I used to be a guy — so there was that whole homophobia thing going on.

Fine with me. I wanted the boys to give me some space. By this point, I was beginning to enjoy some of the social aspects of being a girl. The clothes were awkward, but kind of fun. I did seem to be connecting with the other ladies of the class in a deeper way. And the bond I was forming with Sue and Becky was nearly exhilarating. But I remained intensely intimidated by my sexuality. I didn't even want to deal with my vagina myself, let alone have any boys go there. And let there be no mistake — I knew exactly what the boys wanted from me.

Actually, that's not fair. When I thought back to my prior romance with Sue, the magic of being in love with a girl was much more than just physical. And I'd spent enough time with guys like Hal to know that many of them really did want a relationship that went beyond fumbling around the couch. There were guys who could emotionally act as if they were something more than a collection of teenage hormones.

But despite that awareness, I just wasn't ready. Hell, I didn't know if I could even be aroused by a boy! After all, last night I'd attempted to seduce my girlfriend — I was still... enthusiastic about women's bodies — despite having one of my own.

Between classes, I endured another initiation into femininity — a trip to a public bathroom. I stood outside the door marked with the doll-like representation of a female. Interesting how the gender distinction in clothing is so profound that using the icon of a figure in a dress was sufficient to identify the facility as 'for women only'. Even more interesting as I realized how universal the symbol was — even overseas.

I took a deep breath and entered the bathroom. This was my first trip to forbidden territory — last week I could have gotten detention for walking in here. Immediately, I was struck by how the place smelled a lot better than the boy's restroom. And then there were only stalls. As I moved toward the center, one girl was at the mirror — working on her makeup. She smiled at me as she walked out — no shriek of protest at a boy sneaking in. To her, I was simply another girl.

That fact was driven home as I looked at the infamous 'gumball machine' — the term I'd heard girls use to describe the maxipad dispenser. Just like an arcade game - a quarter a play. I stared at the small vending contraption in wonder — realizing how far I'd come across the great divide. Up to now, I hadn't really thought all that much about my periods. I mean — I knew I was going to have them, but only in the abstract. Now though, the stark reality of my impending womanhood was right in front of me.

With a shuddering breath, I entered one of the stalls. Obviously, this was going to be different. I slowly lifted the hem of my plaid skirt, revealing those ever- so-cute panties I was wearing. Struggling, I held the skirt up with my forearms while I hooked my thumbs in the lace waistband, sliding my pretty underpants down my thighs. I sat — careful to keep my skirt raised. The position was faintly humiliating — no one was there to see me, of course — but I still felt embarrassed. Skirt hiked up to my waist, underwear pulled down — not much dignity in that.

I finished, wiped, etc and went to wash my hands. In the mirror, I gazed at the utterly female face reflected back. This was my life now.