The Exchange Student

by Robyn the GIRL Wonder

 

CHAPTER ONE: SATURDAY NOON

"Come along, Zoe, dear," Renee taunted.

"Oh, yes...come on down, where we can all see you," chimed in Tina.

It was my sister Melissa, at the top of the stairs, that gave me a little push. "Your public awaits, Miss LeMercier," she giggled.

There was nothing else I could do, you see...so I obeyed. Here I was, a fourteen-year-old boy, with curled blonde hair, in white leatherette high heels, wearing flesh tone panty hose, flowered pink panties, a falsie-stuffed matching bra, and slinky silk slip. Covered up by a short white barely-there dress, decorated with delicate pink roses, tiny green leaves, and edged at the collar, sleeves, and skirt hem with a flounce of white lace. On my blonde curls, I wore a matching pink beret.

Oh, God...it was so humiliating! I looked like a girl...I had to walk and talk like a girl. Heck, I even smelled like a girl!

It's all part of my punishment, you see. I've been told that I must write down everything that I went through, in detail. After it's been approved by the three young women that I've wronged, I'm to post it on the internet. The names have not been changed to protect the innocent.

My real name is James Michael Budd, and for the nest four weeks, I would be posing as Zoe LeMercier, a French exchange student.

And a pretty, very feminine young lady.

I've been told that my crimes are not as important as my punishment. Besides, the three girls whom I've wronged have no desire to let the entire world know (again!) what a friend and I did to publicly humiliate these three innocents.

Suffice it to say, what we did was really bad.

And here I was, dressed up like a seventeen-year-old girl, at the beck and call of the three young women we wronged. And there, at the foot of the stairs, was my mother, who agreed to the whole thing. She was smiling at my pretty predicament, and snapped off a few pictures with her digital camera.

"These should come in handy," she said, "If we ever get any more trouble out of you, young lady!"

Well, that was just one more nail in my coffin. If anyone were to find out about this...I knew I'd just be too humiliated for words. Not like I wasn't already.

My punishment was to spend a month like this. I was to dress and act like a girl. And, to make matters worse, I was to pretend to be a French foreign exchange student, who can't speak a word of English. I could speak French fluently, since I was born in Quebec, and as it happens, all three of the girls I sinned against had at least three years of high school French under their belt. My new name was given to me, along with yet another condition of my punishment.

Since I was posing as a French girl, I could never, ever speak a word of English in public. If the girls caught me doing so, I would earn another day as Zoe. I had already slipped up once.

If I refused to do anything the girls asked, I'd get another day.

And, for the duration of "Zoe's" stay here in the US, Jimmy Budd was supposed to be in Paris. It was all a neat story. I was wondering what was happening to my partner-in-crime, Danny Anderson, but I was told that subject was taboo for the time being.

"Here's your purse, Zoe," my mother said, handing me a white leatherette purse to match my high heels. "And I must say, you look smart!" My mother was a teacher at the same high school both Melissa and I attended, and like us, was off for the summer...so she could spend a lot of time with her new "daughter", she said.

I took the purse, and the girls giggled. "You can't hold it like that, darling!" she said. "You need to carry it in the crook of your arm, like this!" She demonstrated, and I obeyed.

"Merci," I said, in French. What I really wanted to say was, "Merde!"

The three girls, as well as my mother, were all dolled up, too. But none of them were wearing a dress or a skirt. That was just me...and I had been informed that I would be wearing dresses or skirts every day for the duration of my punishment.

"Now, let's get you seen!" Renee chirped enthusiastically. She opened the front door, and said, "Ladies first!"

"I don't think I can go through with this!" I said.

"Oh, Zoe!" teased Tina. "I'm afraid that will cost you another two days...one for refusing, and one for using English! That's thirty-three days, and you aren't even out the door yet!"

"I'm sorry," I said, this time in French.

"Good!" replied Tina. "Now, let's get outta here!"

I swallowed, and stepped out the door. It was a bright, sunny summer day, and there was a perky breeze. It blew around my thighs, ruffling my skirt (my skirt!) and lifting it slightly, so one could see the slip underneath. The girls giggled at my predicament.

"This is so awkward!" I protested. "Can't I even wear a longer dress?"

Renee sidled up to me and replied, "Well, that depends on what you want to buy at the mall, Zoe. I think you'd look very good in a longer skirt, but it'd be a shame to hide those legs."

"Especially from the boys!" Melissa said.

"But, why aren't you wearing dresses, too?"

The girls laughed again. Melissa opened the back seat door, and the four real females got into the car. I got in last, smoothing my skirt under my rump as I sat.

"It's called 'irony', silly!" My mother chimed in. "The girls in slacks, and the boy in a dress! Besides, it'll let you know who's in control here...and it isn't you!" I couldn't believe my own mother was in on this scheme.

The drive to the mall took about fifteen minutes. I felt about six inches tall, and I imagined that the driver of every car we passed on the way was looking directly at me, the boy dressed up like a girl.

It would only get worse. I swear, the parking lot was virtually empty, but Mother parked the car at the very end of the lot, ensuring that we'd have to walk quite a distance to the door. I tried to be stoic about the whole thing, but I really couldn't. I had no idea what the girls had planned for me.

"You know, Zoe," Renee pointed out, "You really should be smiling. Girls smile when they know they're getting new clothes and stuff."

I tried to smile. Apparently, it wasn't very convincing.

"You'll have to do better than that! People will know you're a boy if you don't act like a girl!"

Our first stop was at the Gap. There was a display in the window announcing that "Skirts are in the air!" It wasn't just an ad. I was made to try on at least a half-dozen...and I was made to buy two. A flounced, double-tiered pink cotton skirt and one denim skirt.

At Sears, I was made to purchase a "Tommy Girl" tee, and a white fluffy blouse, to wear with the pink Gap skirt. One purchase that did make me feel a bit more comfortable was a pair of sunglasses. Of course, they were pronounced "adorable" by the girls, with their ornate pink frames.

At Delia's, I was made to purchase a black sleeveless, box-pleated minidress, and a very feminine yellow sundress. The fabric of the yellow dress was so sheer, I was convinced that you could see my bra and panties under it. I hoped that I wouldn't be forced to wear it.

One of the salesgirls asked told me I would look darling in capri pants. One of the girls "translated" what she said, though I understood her quite clearly. "Tell her what you prefer, Zoe," Renee instructed me, "And use poor English, like we told you!"

"Oh, non!" I protested. "I prefer to wear...how you say? Skirts and dresses." I couldn't believe I said it.

"She's French," Renee explained. "She's only here a short while, and I guess she wants to make an impression."

"Or a boyfriend!" the clerk smiled. "Boys make passes at girls who wear dresses!"

"Well, she'll be dating before you know it!" Renee said.

"What was that supposed to mean?" I protested.

"Well, the whole point of this is for you to know what it's like to be a girl...and you won't learn unless you start dating, you know."

I swallowed.

"Don't worry, darling daughter," Mother informed me. "It's not like you have to DO anything with the boys. Just a little hugging and kissing!"

I knew it would be a long month. I hoped they'd been bluffing about the hugging and kissing.

After the shopping, I was taken to a beauty salon, where I was given a permanent, as well as a lightening job. When I left the shop, my hair was professionally styled, in what the girls called a softened pageboy cut.

Then, I was taken to a jewelry shop, where my ears (both of them!) were pierced. To make matters worse, the girls decided that my posts were to have tiny red hearts on them. "They're so romantic-looking!" said Tina.

"Positively flirtatious!" agreed Renee.

And then, the girls decided to catch a movie. Mom thought it'd be best if she headed home to start dinner.

The movie was, of course, a 'chick flick'. But I really couldn't pay attention to it. There I was, sitting in the midst of my sister and her two friends, dressed in a more feminine manner than any of them.

When the movie ended, I asked Melissa if we could finally get going home. She reached in her purse, and slid some quarters in my hand. "Okay, if you feel that way," she said. "You can take the bus. But we feel like staying here for a while."

"I guess I can stay, too, then," I remarked. The idea of going home on the bus, was to say the least, mortifying in my feminized state.

"We won't hear of it, Zoe!" she replied, with a wicked grin. "In fact, we insist you hop on the bus and get going. You'll have to transfer downtown. See ya later!"

And with that, the three giggling females left me alone.

I thought about taking a cab for a moment, but I didn't have enough money. Then, I decided to call Mom on the payphone. And I made my first mistake.

You see, I lied to her about it. I told her that she should come and pick me up, and that the girls were getting tired of this game. At least, I told her in French. Because when the girls discovered my duplicity, I had another day added to my girlish sentence.

But, Mom did come to get me. Still mortified at having to wait by the entrance of the mall, I noticed several people I knew as they entered and left the mall. Some of them were classmates...male classmates, to make it worse. And it seemed that all of them were looking at me. In fact, Greg Brew even smiled at me.

"She's cute," he said as he and his buddies passed.

Eventually, Mom picked me up. I got into the front seat, and she said, "Don't get comfortable, Missy!"

"I don't understand!"

"Haven't you ever heard of a cell phone?" she looked daggers at me. "I called Melissa to tell her what you said...and she set me straight! Apparently, you like swishing around town in a skirt, because you've just earned another day of it!"

"But, Mother!" I protested. "This is so unfair! I can't run around dressed like this! I'm a boy, for God's sake!"

"Until you're done with this, you're a girl!" she said. "So you may as well get used to the idea!"

"But what about Danny?" I finally asked. "He doesn't have to dress up like this!"

"Because he would never pass as a girl, Zoe," Mom pointed out. "You can, so you get to wear the lipstick and the dresses! But we have something all planned for Danny...just you wait!"

With that, I was bounced out of the car, and since I had no choice in the matter, I went to the bus stop. I was unnaturally aware of the clicking my high heels made against the concrete. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with anything on the trip home.

But when I'd gotten there, Melissa and Mom were waiting. Tina and Renee had been sent home.

"Did you have a nice trip, Zoe?" Melissa taunted.

"No, I didn't!" I snapped. "This is so unfair!"

"Well, now you're beginning to learn how we felt, aren't you?" she sneered. "You don't look like such a tough guy, now, in your makeup and skirt!"

That night, I went to sleep in one of my sister's hand-me-down nightshirts. It was a long white t-shirt with a pink kiss mark pattern. And of course, it had lace around the edges.

Even in my sleep, I was to be dressed up. Like a girl!

CHAPTER TWO: Sunday

That morning, I was informed that we'd meed Renee and Tina at church. That's what I said, at church.

Of course, I was terrified at the prospect. As a boy, I never went to church, so there weren't a whole lot of people I knew there. But, Danny was dragged to church on a regular basis by his Mom and Dad, so I definitely would be seeing him.

And I certainly didn't want him to be seeing me like this!

I was made to wear a pair of black ballerina flats, courtesy of my sister, which were trimmed in the usual pink, with a tiny pink bow on the vamp of the shoe. On my legs were black pantyhose. The dress was an ankle-length black affair, decorated with pink roses. The skirt of the dress was very narrow, and Melissa showed me how to hold the skirt when I wanted to go up or down stairs. Unlike yesterday, I was also made to wear matching pink nail polish.

Added to all of this was some of Melissa's jewelry. A heart-shaped gold pendant and a bangle bracelet. And finally, a tiny ladies' watch with a black leather band.

In my hair, to give me a 'virginal' look, was one of Melissa's black bandeaux.

At least this time, Mom and Melissa wore dresses, too.

We arrived at the church a few minutes early. There were a number of families gathered at the entrance to the church, and the bells were ringing. And there, in front of me, were the Anderson family...Danny himself, his mother and father, and of course, his little sister, Vikki.

The only one not smiling was Danny. There was nothing unusual about how he was dressed, at least. However, Danny's mother and sister were looking at me with mischevious grins. It was obvious that they had been told of my predicament, while both Danny and his father were kept in the dark.

"Why, hello, Jennifer dear," my mother said to Danny's mom.

"Hello, Ella!" she replied. Jennifer was a very pretty woman, and it's true that I had a bit of crush on her. "Hello, Melissa...and this must be Zoe!" She hugged me. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

I mumbled something in French...I can't remember just what. It was so mortifying, to be dressed up and treated like a girl in front of both Danny and his father.

"She doesn't really speak much English, you know," my mother explained.

"Well, tell her for me that she's a very pretty girl," she smiled. "Isn't that so, Danny?"

Danny looked at me in confusion. "Uh, yes, she is," he stammered.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Danny!" his father interjected. "She speaks French, and so do you...say hello, numbskull!"

"Hello, Zoe," he said haltingly, in French, "It's nice to know you!"

"I must say, Zoe," Mr. Anderson said, "You're an improvement over Jimmy just about any day. Maybe the two of you could exchange places permanently!"

"We'll have to see about that, Andrew," my mother said. "I do like having Zoe in the house, though. It's like having another daughter. And she's such a feminine little thing...I don't think she owns anything but skirts and dresses!"

The girls and women all laughed, at my expense.

Melissa, told the both of us, in French of course, so that Danny's father couldn't understand, but so that the both of us could, "Oh, I'm sure the two of you will get along famously. After the service, I'm sure Danny would love to ask pretty Zoe for a date sometime."

So that was it!

Danny's punishment would be that he and "Zoe" were to have a little "summer romance"!

"And, you'd better tell your parents how pretty you think she is, Danny," Melissa said. "After all, you'll be spending a lot of time together for the next few weeks. You two will make such a lovely couple!"

"There's an ice-cream social right after the service," Mrs. Anderson pointed out. "Perhaps we can all get to know each other then."

"Oh, yes!" Melissa said. "Renee and Tina will be there, too."

This was just not going my way. I felt like finding a cave and setting up house. I'm sure Danny felt the same way.

The service seemed to take forever. Of course, I was introduced to the priest afterwards, and Father Broughton mentioned that he thought it a pity that he spoke no French. Of course, that was a big relief to me.

At the ice cream social, Renee and Tina joined us. They complimented me on my dress (of course!), and the girls who were "in the know", so to speak, arranged it so that I'd have a few minutes in relative privacy with Danny. Danny was a half a head taller than me, a year older, and naturally quite masculine; there was no possible way Danny could've passed as a girl.

I was made to play that part.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy...I mean, Zoe!" he said. "I had no idea they were going to do this to you."

"I should never have let you convince me to pull that stunt," I replied. "It's your fault I'm in this fix!"

"Hey, I'm in it, too!" he pointed out. "What if it gets out that I dated a boy dressed up like a girl, for Pete's sake?"

"Cry me a river! You're not the one who has to run around for the next month dressed up like this!"

Danny looked at his shoes. "Yeah, I guess you have the raw end of it. But do they really expect us to date?"

"Of course, we do!" While we weren't looking, my sister had come by. "You'll not only date, but we're going to make sure we take some pictures of the happy couple during their summer romance. And you two WILL have a summer romance. Of course, that will involve dating each other...as well as some innocent hugging and kissing."

We looked at each other in shock. "I can't do that!" I said, in English.

"Oh, Zoe...you were doing so well." she said. "Luckily, no one heard you but your new boyfriend and I. Still, that does earn you an extra day in skirts, dear sister. That's thirty-three, all together."

"He didn't mean it!" Danny defended me.

"You mean, SHE didn't mean it," Melissa pointed out. "Look, the two of you are obviously meant for each other...so I'll tell everyone that you two are going out on a date tomorrow night. Tomorrow's the church hay ride. You'll have to date fairly often, just for practice."

"What do you mean by that?" Danny asked.

"Well, since the Summer Dance is coming up, I just assumed you'd be wanting to go together..." She giggled, and spun back to the group, her skirt spinning in the summer breeze.

"Is she serious?" Danny asked me, in English.

"As a heart attack."

CHAPTER THREE: MONDAY and the HAYRIDE

I didn't sleep very well that night, obviously. Between having to wear Melissa's nightshirt, and the knowledge that I'd be on a "date" the next night, I found getting to sleep difficult, at best.

Still, I did get some sleep, and I woke up the next day to another day of girlish torment.

First off, I had to shave my legs again. I was told I'd have to do this at least every other day. Of course, my sister did my make-up, but she told me that starting tomorrow, I'd have to practice putting it on myself.

Melissa, of course, chose everything I'd have to wear that day. In addition to the panties and falsie-filled bra, she made me wear a light petticoated slip, borrowed from her own wardrobe. This made the yellow sundress we'd purchased that past Saturday "stand out very fetchingly", she said. The high-heeled white leatherette sandals finished off my clothing, but she insisted on a few plastic bracelets, and a gold anklet. She also put a yellow ribbon in my hair to hold it back.

"You look simply scruptious," she told me. "It's no wonder Danny's so taken with you!"

I looked at my reflected image in Melissa's full-length mirror. I could hardly believe that was me. But it was. The very image of a pretty teenage girl! Melissa had me twirl around so she could see how my sundress spun out.

That day, I learned how to do housework. First off, I was made to don a lacy apron over my sundress. Then, Mom had me vacuum and dust, and help setting out lunch and dinner. All the while, she teased me with how pretty a girl I made.

She made me read SEVENTEEN magazine, and COSMOPOLITAN. "And you'll simply adore reading my old Harlequin romance books!" she added. "We've got to get you thinking like a girl, Zoe!"

Finally, we went up to my bedroom, and pretty much stripped it to the walls. All of my clothing and possessions went into boxes, and then into the garage. An extra set of my sisters' bedclothes went onto my bed, and some of her old Boy Band posters went up onto the wall. "You'll have to use your sisters' vanity," she pointed out. But my new skirts and dresses were put into my closet, along with some of Melissa's hand-me-downs.

I was set to work hand-washing my bras and panties. And learning how to maintain my new, feminine wardrobe.

Around one o'clock, Melissa brought Renee and Tina back with her. They were appropriately impressed with the yellow sundress I was wearing, and they too made me twirl for them. God, it was SO humiliating! My masculinity was shattered into tiny little shards. And the girls loved every second of it!

Tina and Melissa stayed for dinner, of course, and were greatly pleased that I had to essentially play the role of maid for all of the real girls.

But the evening was just getting started. Once again, I couldn't help noticing that all three girls were wearing shorts or capri pants as Mom drove us to the church parking lot, where the hayride was set to begin. I was once more dressed up more daintily than the real girls. By design, of course!

There were three wagons. There were already a dozen or so couples there, laughing and having a good time. I couldn't help but notice that very few of the girls wore skirts or dresses.

Melissa, Tina and Renee met their dates in the parking lot, and I nearly breathed a sigh of relief to realize that Danny hadn't shown up. But it wasn't long before Danny drove up, having borrowed his dad's car for the occaision. He approached the three wagons slowly.

"Is that any way to come to a romantic hayride?" Tina sighed. "Go over and give him a friendly hug, Zoe!"

"Oh, and hold his hand on your way back," added Melissa mischeviously. She pulled out the digital camera from her purse. "We'd like to get some pictures!"

And wouldn't you know it? I walked to him, skirt swaying, high heels clicking, with curled hair and wearing make-up. And I hugged him. Just like the girls told me to.

"The girls say we should be holding hands, Danny," I whispered to him as we hugged awkwardly.

They got plenty of good shot of that event, let me tell you!

When the hayride began, the girls and their dates snuggled closely together, and Danny and I were obligated to do the same. The soft hay conspired to squeeze us even closer together, virtually face to face. Our legs dangled off of the edge of the wagon.

There was plenty of whispering. Sweet nothings between boyfriends and girlfriends. Danny and I were stone silent, our eyes closed. Some of the pairs were engaged in a little chaste kissing.

"Well?" Melissa whispered, in French, "I think someone's not quite getting into the spirit of things!"

"Oh, come on!" Danny protested. "What do you want us to do?"

"What do you think?" she replied. "Zoe, if you don't kiss Danny right now, we're going to add a week to your time in skirts!"

So I did it. I kissed him on the cheek, which left a bit of my pink lipstick behind.

But the girls were having none of it. Melissa told me that she'd better see some serious lip locking, toot suite!

And so, we did it. Danny and I were kissing...on the lips, this time. I tried to pretend that I was kissing a girl, and obviously, so did Danny. But I couldn't get my mind off of my situation. I was dolled up like a girl, and I was kissing another boy.

Through the thin fabric of my dress, I felt Danny getting an erection. He started holding me tighter, and kissing me more deeply.

And, as horrid as it sounds, my own penis was becoming hard. And as that happened, the hayride came to an end.

The sun had gone down by then, and the church parking lot was lit with it's own lights. Renee and Tina went off with their dates, but not without teasing me that I needed to fix my lipstick. Melissa led me into the ladies room inside the church, and told me that her date, Zack, needed a ride home, and asked if Danny would be willing to drive him home.

And, of course, I fixed my lipstick. And dusted some hay off of my dress.

Of course, since Melissa's wishes were our commands, he agreed to drive Zach home. The two of them sat in the back seat. They made out a bit. I always knew my sister was a cocktease, but I didn't know until tonight just how much of a cocktease she was.

In the front seat, Danny and I sat in silence. Both he knew, and I knew that we had become quite aroused in the haywagon, but neither of us knew exactly what we should say about it. I sat in the passenger seat, and stared at my purse and sandals. We turned on the radio to drown out our silence.

Zack was finally dropped off. Melissa, still in the back seat of the car, couldn't resist teasing us.

"So, are you enjoying your date, Zoe?" she asked coyly.

"What do YOU think?" I replied, remembering to keep to the French.

"I don't know," she said. "You two were certainly getting affectionate back there. You do make a lovely couple, you know."

Danny was blushing furiously...and so was I.

"I was pretending Jimmy was a girl," he explained. "And I guess I just got sorta carried away."

"He does make a rather fetching lass, at that," my sister pointed out. "Now, when you drop us off, I'm going to give you two a few minutes alone on the porch. And I fully expect you to give your date a goodnight kiss, Danny!"

He sighed. And so did I.

A few minutes later, we were on the front porch of my house, and we did exactly as we were told. Danny took me gently in his arms, and we kissed on the lips. I knew exactly where my sister was, behind the curtain, taking still more digital photographs.

"If it's any consolation," Danny told me, "You really do look pretty."

And the thing is, I knew he was right.

CHAPTER FOUR: As Time Goes By...

Days passed. I learned how to curl my own hair, do my own make-up, and select which clothes I would be wearing. It was becoming second nature; the girls took me out shopping with them often, and of course, they insisted on loaning me their own clothes from time to time. And of course, they were always skirts or dresses.

My mother supplied my reading material, which was always beauty and fashion magazines, and romance novels. I was made to watch 'chick flicks' on television and at the movies. No sci-fi or horror for me anymore. And I was made to listen to boy bands and girl singers. And I was practicing making my handwriting girlish, too.

One night, the girls made me get really dolled up to go to a Backstreet Boys concert. They had me in a cropped white angora sweater, with a bare midriff, and a short pleated cheerleader-type pink skirt. And they had me screaming for my "favorite" guy, along with about 40,000 other girls.

And did I mention the temporary tatoos? Yes, my shoulder blade sported a pretty pink rose, with the phrase GIRLS 4-EVER written in flowery letters beneath. Renee, Tina and Melissa got matching ones, too.

I did household chores. And I tried my darnedest to be a "good girl" at all times. My masculinity was destroyed. My masculine pride was obliterated. How could I help it?

Of course, there were "dates" with Danny two or three times a week, but we managed to keep it as chaste as we possibly could. Luckily, there weren't more incidents like the first one. But there were some of the two of us, acting like boyfriend and "girlfriend".

Oddly enough, Danny started to get sort of popular. Now that he was dating a "hot chick", other guys seemed to start liking him, and hanging around. Obviously, they were hoping his "luck" was contagious.

And there were pictures. Oh, God, how there were pictures! Pictures of yours truly, in just about the most feminine, frivolous and downright girly outfits you could possibly imagine. I felt like a giant Barbie doll, which in a way, I was.

But I was determined not to let my sentence go any longer than it absolutely had to. So I obeyed the girls and my mother, and I wore the make-up, and the skirts, and the dresses without complaint or equivocation.

On my birthday, the girls gave me more feminine finery. I wanted new games for my Playstation 2, but I got a new make-up kit, a pair of high-heeled red go-go boots, a "darling" floral-print blue dress, and a "Hello Kitty" blouse.

Melissa and I started getting along far better, too. As the days went by, she relented a bit in the teasing department, and didn't expose me to quite as many awkward situations as she had at first. Either she was getting used to the idea of me as another girl, or she just ran out of ideas.

CHAPTER FIVE: A GIRL IN TEARS

There was one thing I never quite got over, and that was my dislike of answering the door. I had been shopping with the girls at the mall quite a few times, dined out at restaurants, gone to the movies (where Danny and I were required to "make out" in the balcony!), and became a regular churchgoer...even if "Zoe" didn't understand English.

Answering the door was my "special job"; if we ordered a pizza, I answered the door.

If the UPS man came with a package, I had to sign for it.

It was all a ploy to get me seen, in make-up and a dress, by as many people as possible.

One day, a few days shy of the end of my enforced girlhood, Renee and Tina showed up at the door. I had been vacuuming, wearing my "Hello Kitty" blouse and a short denim skirt. They never seemed to tire of teasing me.

"Oh, Zoe!" Tina cooed, "That's such a nice skirt you've got on!"

"Thank you," I replied, and called Melissa.

"Well, tomorrow's the Big Night," Renee said, "The Summer Dance! I'm sure you and Danny are just as excited as can be about it!" The two girls came into the house as Melissa came down the stairs.

"Hello, girls!" she said with a smile. "Are you ready for another trip to the mall, Zoe?" Trips to the mall had begun to hold no terrors for me; it seemed like we'd done it a hundred times already.

So I said, "Sure!"

Melissa asked Mom if the two of us could head out to the mall. I was required to finish vacuuming, but that it'd be okay. So, while I did that, the girls went up into Melissa's bedroom. And a few minutes later, I went up there to meet them.

The girls had decided that I had to change to go to the mall. So, of course, I did. I wound up in my red leather go-go boots and a sleeveless red turtle-necked cable-knit sweater dress, with a pink heart appliqued over my left "breast". I was required to wear pink tights, and carry my "Hello Kitty" pink leatherette purse. There was a red bandeaux keeping my permed hair out of my eyes, and I got to wear sunglasses.

"You look like a COSMO GIRL cover!" teased Renee.

Of course, the real girls had gone out of their way not to be wearing skirts, so once again, the irony of being a boy in a dress was brought back in full force.

We had to take the bus down to the mall. I always hated taking the bus while I was dressed this way. There seemed to be a lot of my fellow students riding the bus, and while no one ever recognized me, either on the bus or at the mall, the potential for exposure was ever-present.

Finally, once we were at the mall, I was taken to a very fancy dress shop. As it turned out, we were all shopping for the same things...

"You know, DRESSY dresses!" Melissa said. "For the Summer Dance on Friday night. I bet you can't wait for Danny to pin a corsage on you, Zoe!"

"This is going to take quite a while," Tina pointed out. "Since all four of us need new dresses..."

And, of course, it did. We all tried on dresses...over and over again. For the girls, it was exciting and fun. For me, it was just humiliating and mortifying, having to try on petticoats and crinolines, chintz and taffeta. The dresses were the most feminine confections imaginable...and I had to wear one of them.

To a dance. On a date.

The girls decided on their gowns within about two hours. But, because of the "langauge barrier", I guess, deciding on a dress for me took even longer. The salesgirl was very accomodating, though. She even gave the girls and I tips on what we should be looking for.

What I wound up with looked more like a bride's white wedding dress than a prom dress. Looking back on it, I suppose that was the point.

It had a tight bustier-like affair, which doubled as a corset, tightening my waist in quite a bit. This was decorated with sequins, and held up with double spaghetti straps. The skirt was floor-length, and consisted of five layers of taffeta, with a transparent nylon overlay, on which were embroidered flowers.

And around my shoulders was a dainty, nylon cape, gathered at the neck by a tiny, delicate button. It came with ballerina-like shoes, with a low heel.

"After all," pointed out Tina, giggling at the image of me in the feminine confection, "You don't want to be taller than Danny, do you?"

"I guess not," was all I could say.

Finally, back in my sweater dress and in my bedroom, I was made to put my new, rented formal gown in my closet. Next to the rest of my girly wardrobe. I hadn't realized that I'd acquired quite so extensive a collection of dresses, blouses and skirts. And I'd worn all of them, at one time or another, in public, as Zoe.

"It's too bad about those rumors," Renee said casually, as I tucked the dress into the closet. The girls were sitting on the bed, watching me.

I felt my stomach sinking. I felt so exposed just then, dressed like a young bride. "What rumors?" I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"You know, about you and Danny..."

The girls giggled. I was sure I knew how the rumor started, at least. It was pretty obvious my feminine tormentors started it.

"You know...about how you pleasured him," Tina whispered. "With your mouth. How did it taste? Did you have to swallow?"

Oh, my God! They'd started a rumor that I (or Zoe, at any rate!) was giving Danny blow jobs!

"Who's been spreading this story?" I demanded. Unfortunately, I was so shocked, I'd reverted to English.

"Oh, Zoe!" clucked Melissa, in mock sadness, "That's another day in a dress, isn't it, girls?"

"I don't know HOW the rumor started, Zoe," Renee lied. "But I know Danny hasn't exactly DENIED it to any of his buddies."

I was stunned, to say the least. The worst part was that I knew instantly that the girls weren't lying about that part of the story. Danny had suddenly gained a bit of popularity by dating "Zoe", and I knew from experience that he'd never deny a rumor that would enhance his reputation.

I felt so betrayed. Which, I guess, was the point. They had put me in the position of a girl who'd been betrayed by her boyfriend.

And, finally reaching an emotional overload, I cried my eyes out.

Just like a girl.

CHAPTER SIX: AT THE DANCE

That Friday night, the girls came over to dress before the dance in their pretty gowns. And, of course, to ensure that I did, too. After all, it was less than a week before "Zoe" would be departing for France, and Jimmy would finally come back...

...if all went according to plan, that is.

While our "dates" waited downstairs, we could overhear snippets of the conversations below. This gave me all the evidence I needed to know that Danny had been bragging about how far he'd gotten with "Zoe", and I wasn't exactly happy about it.

But still, I came to the conclusion that since "Zoe" didn't actually exist, it really didn't do any harm to me, since I was Jimmy, not some fictional French girl.

So, I let it slide. If I had been in Danny's shoes, I probably would've done the same thing.

There was a limo waiting for the four couples, and I found it rather ironic that my first limo ride was while I was dressed up like a young lady. I'd always thought it'd be with a girl on my arm, not with me on the arm of some guy.

And the dance was crowded. There were a lot of couples already there, boys in natty suits, girls (and me!) in pretty, feminine dresses. We went through the punch line, and Melissa informed me that under NO circumstances was I going to be a wallflower. To underscore the point, Melissa asked Danny to dance, which forced us to switch dance partners for the second dance, a slow number.

Zach asked me, in horrible French, if I'd like this dance, "Oui," I said...

It was odd dancing with Danny, to be sure, but I'd become used to being in his company as "Zoe". It was entirely different to be lead about the dance floor by different guy. Melissa's boyfriend.

"You sure look good tonight, Zoe," he whispered in my ear. "Melissa and the girls sure made you look good as one of them, Jimmy."

I froze. He knew!

"Keep dancing," he said. I obeyed meekly, terrified at the prospect of what was next.

"How many people know?" I asked, whispering.

"Just me, as far as I know," he replied. He pulled me tighter against him. "Is it true about you giving Danny head?"

I didn't say anything.

"I bet you're good at it," he said. "Any guy who'd agree to dress up like a girl would probably love giving guys blow jobs."

I began to sweat.

"Melissa doesn't do anything," he said. "Says she's saving it for her wedding night. It's driving me nuts. That's why we're going to slip away for a few minutes, while the other girls keep Danny busy on the dance floor."

Oh, my God, I thought helplessly. Before I knew it, I had been maneuvered toward a discreet exit, and was outside in the summer night with Zach.

Zach crushed me against his chest, and kissed me deeply. His tongue slid into my mouth, and he held me helplessly. Danny had never kissed me like Zach was, and once again, my own cock started to betray me, by coming to life in my pretty pink panties.

Zach looked, and saw there was no one around. He unzipped his pants, and dropped them to his ankles. His cock was fully erect.

"You know what to do," he said.

And I did. So there I was, dressed up like a fairy princess, bringing my face down to Zach's cock. Then, it was in my mouth. It tasted salty, like sweat, and gave out heat like a stove. He put his hands on each side of my feminized head, and had me sucking in rhythm in a few seconds.

I felt like crying. Now, I was put into the position of a girl, forced to do what she didn't want to do. I was certainly learning my lesson.

Zach gasped suddenly, and I knew what was about to happen. I tried pulling away, but Zach's hands kept my head exactly where it was.

He shot his load into my mouth...I almost gagged on it, but I reflexively swallowed every drop of his semen.

Being forced to dress up like a girl was nothing compared to this humilitation. I felt almost physically ill.

But as Zach zipped up his pants, and led me back into the dance hall on his arm, I put on a brave face, and tried to comport myself as if nothing had happened out there. Melissa took me into the ladies' room, and helped me freshen up.

After making sure we were alone, I asked her, "Did you know Zach was going to do that? Make me suck him off?" I washed out my mouth with water...anything to get the taste of come out of it.

"I had a feeling he would," she replied. "Your lipstick needs fixing, Zoe. I couldn't exactly deny him any longer, and you've just bought me some time. He won't be all horny tonight, so I don't have to worry about having to put out."

"Does Mom know about what you're doing here?" I asked her.

"Of course not!" Melissa replied. "And if you tell her, I've got about a million digital pictures that'll see the light of day. Including a few of your rendez-vous with Zach! Yeah, I snapped off a few of those when neither of you were looking. Why, you'll be nothing but a cross-dressing sissy slut in the eyes of the entire town. And we couldn't have that, could we?"

With that, Melissa returned to the dance floor, dragging me along behind. I spent the rest of the evening dancing with Danny, who'd boasted of "Zoe" having sucked him off. And all the while, I knew I had a stomachful of Zach Newman's come inside me.

My humiliation was complete.

CHAPTER SEVEN: GOODBYE, SOLANGE

There really isn't that much more to tell.

The rest of my sentance as "Zoe" passed without incident, and one day, it was over, and my male clothing was finally returned to me. All my possessions came back from out of the garage, and "Zoe LeMercier" was officially back in France. However, I was told that until I graduated from High School, I was to keep my dresses and skirts and blouses, and my make-up kit in my bedroom at all times. Just to remind me.

But my sister couldn't help but gloat. From time to time as the summer went on, I'd find a printout of me, as "Zoe", in a particularly fetching outfit. Or she'd refer to me as "her".

Or ask my opinion about a new outfit.

Yes, even though I was back in male clothing, I knew that life wouldn't be the same, ever again.

Of course, my friendship with Danny was pretty much over. I just couldn't stop blaming him for letting his new buddies believe that "Zoe" had sucked him off. And after the dance, my sister broke up with Zach. She told him she couldn't stay with a guy who let other boys give him a blow job. Too gay, she said.

The fall semester passed, and I was told that we'd be getting a guest for the holidays.

Zoe LeMercier.

The story, it seemed, would never end.

  

  

  

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