G11 Mistaken Identity

by Sarah Bayen

Part Seven

 

Steve slept well, and woke rather earlier than he had thought he might after his late night. He followed his usual routine, but dithered a little over his choice of knickers. He remembered telling Bryn and Richard that he wore unisex ones, and indeed, there were some pairs on offer that might broadly be called that. He had worn them the first two days of his enforced girlhood, but had found them rather uncomfortable. They were gently elasticated, which felt more than a little clammy after a full day, and he had developed a preference for the looser, if rather more decorated, panties.

Well sod Bryn and Richard, Steve decided eventually. It was nothing to do with them what knickers he wore! He clicked on a nice pink pair that he thought would be comfortable enough. They had a big bow on the front, it was true, but that was a small price to pay for comfort.

He put on the rest of his Learning Uniform, and walked through to the Refectory, even though the Machine hadn't announced that breakfast was imminent. He had assumed that he would be alone when he got there, but as he approached the room, he heard voices, talking earnestly. He hesitated by the door, unwilling to break up whatever private conversation was going on. Nevertheless, he could hear what was said.

"But I can't ask you!" a voice he recognised as Malcolm's said. "We can't ask each other. We have to ask girls!" There was no reply for a few moments, and Steve wondered whom he might be talking to. Recognition of the replying voice as Eddie's gave him his answer.

"Well that's not fair," the other boy said petulantly. "I want to ask you."

My God, thought Steve, Jeanette was right! Malcolm and Eddie were an item! As a boy, growing up with them, he had had no idea, not through all the years of their childhood.

"Well you can't," Malcolm said, with finality. "I want to ask you as well, but we just can't and that's that."
Steve felt guilty about eavesdropping, but, hesitating for a moment, decided to walk through into the room. "Hello," he said brightly. As he walked in, they had obviously been holding hands, because they both jumped back in alarm as the boy in a skirt came into view. Steve was as embarrassed as they were, but decided to go over and sit by them at their table. They shuffled awkwardly in their chairs.

"Have you decided who to ask to the dance?" he asked brightly, picking up a saltcellar, and turning it over and over in his hands. Malcolm looked from him to Eddie, with a concerned expression running across his face. Both of them frowned.

"Were you listening to us?" Malcolm asked, his voice with a hint of menace.

"No," Steve lied, brightly. "But if I were you Malcolm, I'd think about asking Sarah."

Malcolm glared at him for a few seconds before responding. "Sarah?" he asked.

"Yes. She's nice isn't she?" Steve said, smiling.

Malcolm looked across to Eddie again, who had folded his arms across his chest, and was pointedly staring away across the room. Malcolm shrugged. "She's always friendly enough I suppose."
"Then ask her!" Steve urged.

"I'll think about it," Malcolm muttered. Other people were coming into the room now, mainly girls. The boys seemed to think it was their duty to be late for anything and everything on the ship. A couple of the girls stopped to beg Steve for his assistance in designing their dresses, but he was able to avoid promising anything. When Richard came into the room, he stood up, smiled at Malcolm and Eddie once more, and walked over to join his friend at their usual table.

"You all right?" he asked, sitting down.

"My leg's still sore. I'll kill that bloody Karen for this!" He rubbed his leg for a moment, and Steve thought before making his next comment.

"I got your invitation by the way," he said.

Richard looked a little ashamed. "Oh, right."

"Thanks," Steve went on, as embarrassed as his friend. He coughed to clear his throat. "But I'm not sure I'm going to go."

"I thought it was compulsory."

"It is, but I might throw a sicky."

Richard thought about this ruse, and shrugged. "I doubt if you'll be able to fool the Machine on that one," he pointed out. Steve grimaced. That was true enough. If he told the Machine he was ill, he would be subjected to a medical exam, which would then discover there was nothing really wrong with him. He would have to think of something else to avoid the bloody dance!

"Well if you have to go," Richard went on, looking with intent at the table instead of Steve, "I just thought you'd rather be escorted by me than some random bloke."

"Yes, thanks," Steve replied. There was an awkward silence for a while, and both of them were rather relieved when Bryn came along to join them. He seemed bright enough, and told them of the three girls he had offered to escort. Jacquie was predictably top of the list, followed closely by Gloria, and Sylvia.

He and Richard then probed Steve for clues about what the girls might be wearing. Steve tried to say he didn't know, but they had heard about his dress designing exploits, so he had to revert to pretending that none of the girls had made a decision yet. Why he decided to keep his confidences, he wasn't quite sure, but he felt certain that none of the girls would want their potential escorts to know the details of their outfits until the big night.

Not that Bryn and Richard seemed all that interested in the important things about the dresses, like the colours, materials, and styling. All they seemed to worry about were the necklines and the length. Steve managed to fend off their questions until they set about eating their meals.

Half way through, Richard seemed to suddenly suffer from a bizarre bout of clumsiness. He dropped his spoon three times, and had to rummage around under the table to collect it. Surfacing for the third time, he sniggered to himself, and gave Bryn a strange look. Steve looked from one to the other, trying to work out what was going on, but decided it was some strange and newly invented joke of little consequence.

Within a minute, Bryn too dropped his spoon, and disappeared under the table to look for it. Steve bent down to see if he could help, but could see nothing except Bryn's back. He looked to Richard for guidance, but he was still stifling giggles, and munching on his cereal. Steve shrugged to himself, and got on with his meal.

Eventually Bryn reappeared carrying a spoon, and with a smile on his face. Steve looked at him to see if he could see what the joke was, but the blond boy gave no response. On the other side of him, Richard burst out laughing.

"Well," began Bryn, still stifling his laughter. "I don't know that I'd call them unisex!" Richard's laughter grew louder, and Bryn smile looked as if it would crack his face.

"What?" Steve asked. He hadn't worked out the joke at all. Bryn too, now broke into laughter, and he got no reply for a moment.

"I said," he managed to say, after some time, "I wouldn't call them unisex. They've got a bloody great pink bow on the front!"

Realisation slowly dawned on Steve. They were talking about his knickers. That was why they had suddenly had a bout of clumsiness, so they could get under the table, and look up his skirt! Outrage replaced surprise and he stood up from his chair, his face crimson both with rage and shame.

"You utter bastards!" he exclaimed. "You complete and utter bastards! That was just so childish and pathetic!"

Richard and Bryn stopped laughing for a moment, as the eyes of everyone in the room turned towards them. Steve's lips were pressed together hard, as he considered what to do. He felt an urge to hit them, to show them that he wasn't some bizarre sideshow for their amusement, but he also felt tears of outrage forming in his eyes. No way would they see him cry! He thrust his nose in the air, and for the second day running, flounced out, and off to the girls' toilets. Once there, he slammed the door behind him, and burst into tears.

How could they be so thoughtless? They must know how difficult the last few days had been for him, having to dress as a girl all the time, because of some stupid mistake the Machine had made. They were supposed to be his friends as well. It wouldn't have been so bad if it had been Colin who had done it, but Bryn and Richard, well that was just intolerable. He would never, and he meant never, talk to them again.

He looked down at himself through the veil of tears. His smart crisp white blouse was tucked into his soft pleated grey skirt. The helplessness of his situation made him sob afresh, and he hugged himself with his arms in an attempt to find comfort. The door behind him moved, and he immediately jumped up. He ran across to the washbasins to wash his face clear of tears, not turning around to see who had come to join him.

It was, however, Jeanette. "Are you all right Steve? What happened?" She walked across, and put her hand gently on his shoulder. He looked at himself in the mirror, with his tear-streaked face, and Jeanette's reflection looking anxiously over his shoulder. He could not speak, but shook his head

"Oh poor Steve!" Jeanette exclaimed, looking at him in the mirror. "It was Bryn and Richard wasn't it? What did they do?"

Fresh tears spilt from his eyes, and Jeanette bit her bottom lip, before hugging him on both shoulders. "They looked up my skirt, to see my knickers!" he spluttered.

"Oh God that's awful!" Jeanette cooed. "No wonder you're upset." He turned around, and buried his head into her shoulder. She stroked the back of his head gently, and allowed him to sob some more. "Boys can be so unfeeling!" she said with some venom. Steve nodded, and pulled his head up.

"Yes they can!" he agreed. "It's not easy being me just now!"

"I'm sure it's not," Jeanette agreed, her voice dripping with sympathy. "And you've been so good about it too, helping us all with our dresses and stuff."

Steve sniffed, and nodded in agreement. He had been good. He hadn't just wallowed around in self-pity; he had tried to help other people. Not just with the dresses either, he had tried to help Charles with his problems, and he had even tried to get Malcolm to ask Sarah to the dance. And his reward was for his ex-friends to try and look at his knickers, to see if they were genuinely unisex. He hated them.

"Boys can be so stupid," Jeanette went on. "If they're so fascinated by knickers, then they should jolly well wear them themselves!"

Steve nodded, and smiled at the thought of Bryn and Richard having to wear knickers. That would certainly show them, and then he could look up their skirts to see to get his own back! Jeanette smiled back at him, and placed her hands on the sides of his head. "Well we'll show them won't we?" she said urgently.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked. "Get them to wear knickers?"

Jeanette giggled. "No, I didn't mean that. We need to show them that you're not upset by them and their childishness. If they think they've upset you, then they'll just try and do it again, or think of something worse."

Steve nodded. That much was true. He remembered from his days of bullying Charles that Jeanette was entirely right. One sign of weakness, and he and his friends would swoop in for the kill. He would have to show Bryn and Richard that he wasn't in the least concerned with their infantile pranks. He smiled warmly at Jeanette.

"That's better!" she said. "Come on, let's clean you up a bit, then we'll go back and show them that you're proud to wear whatever you want!"

"Proud?" Steve asked, dubiously.

"Yes!" Jeanette insisted. "I mean, you didn't choose to have to wear skirts and knickers and stuff like that all the time, but if you have to do it, you might as well do it with pride! If you go around cringing with embarrassment because of what you have to wear, then people are bound to pick on you, aren't they?"

Steve thought about this, and nodded. She was right. He had spent the last few days skulking around, ashamed that he was stuck in a skirt; ashamed that under his skirt, he was wearing girl's knickers; and ashamed of the pink piping on the collar and cuffs of his blouses. Well sod that, why should he be ashamed? It wasn't his fault that the Machine had decided he was a girl! Yes, he should wear his clothes with pride, and if other people didn't like it, well it was their problem, not his!

He washed his face defiantly while Jeanette looked on. The Machine announced that Lesson time was about to start. Jeanette checked him over, and confirmed that he looked okay. They smiled at each other, left the toilet block and went off to the first lesson of the day.

Steve walked into the room haughtily, holding his head high. There was a hush as he and Jeanette walked through, and over to the table where Sarah was waiting for them. Once there, Steve switched on his monitor, and paid obsessive attention to the information on it. Slowly, the focus of the room turned away from him, and the day progressed.

At lunchtime Steve, Jeanette and Sarah grabbed a quick bite to eat, studiously ignoring Richard and Bryn, who were sitting not so very distant, and glancing across nervously at the three friends. Jacquie came over to them at one point. "Hi Steve," she said, looking first at him, and then over her shoulder at Bryn before continuing very loudly. "I heard what Bryn and Richard did this morning at breakfast. I just wanted you to know that I think it was disgusting! I've just been back to my room and rejected Bryn's invitation! There's no way I'm going to the dance escorted by a pervert!"

There was a chorus of agreement from the other girls sitting at various tables in the Refectory, and with one last withering glance at a subdued and glum looking Bryn, Jacquie flounced out of the room. Steve smiled to himself. He really was showing Bryn and Richard how bad their behaviour had been, and what the consequences could be.

"That reminds me," Steve said loudly, standing, and sweeping some sandwich crumbs off the front of his skirt. "I've got a rejection to make as well!" He saw Richard's face intently staring down at the dining table in shame, and a flush came over his erstwhile friend's face. Good, it was about time someone other than Steve was forced to blush! Like Jacquie, he flounced noisily out of the room, and back to the girls' sleeping quarters. Opening up his mail, he defiantly clicked the 'reject' button to send an automatic reply to Richard's offer to be his escort! He sat back in his seat, pleased with himself for a moment. Still, it would be just his luck if the Machine randomly allocated Richard back to him if they were still both partnerless the following evening.

They were free from lessons that afternoon, and Steve had agreed to help Sarah and Jeanette with their costumes for the dance. He just about had enough time to get changed out of his Learning Uniform before they were due to arrive, but what to wear? Especially now he was determined to show pride in the way he was being forced to dress. He found a cute little skirt in blue, but decided to make it a lovely pastel pink. That would show everyone that wearing girl's stuff, even in girl's colours, held no terrors for him! He teamed it up with a strappy white top, with matching pink borders, and in an act of even greater bravado, selected himself a pair of white ribbed tights to go with it. Feeling rather pleased with himself, he slipped into his outfit, and admired himself in the mirror. The strappy top rather emphasised his flat chestedness, he noticed. He wondered for a second whether he should put on the bra that the Interface had offered him. After all, he had worn one yesterday, with no ill effects. He decided against it in the end however. It was a step too far, even for a boy who was proud to dress as a girl.

He thought about doing without shoes too, then thought, why should he? It was uncomfortable wandering around the corridors in bare feet, and even though he was staying in his room, he decided to flick through the shoe selection, to see what he could create. He went through two or three pages, further than he had ever done before, and found a cute pair of pixie boots. Looking at himself, with his short pink skirt, and white tights, he smiled at the thought of teaming it up with them. He coloured them pink to match his skirt, and got the Interface to produce them. They even had a bit of a heel, but so what? He was proud to wear girl's clothes! He slipped his feet into them, and rushed back to the mirror to admire himself again. The outfit looked ridiculously feminine, especially teamed with his short cropped hair, but he didn't care! He was proud to wear it!

"G9 and G13" the door announced. He rushed over to answer it, keen to show off his new clothes to Jeanette and Sarah. They were suitably impressed. Jeanette kissed him on the cheek, and told him how brave he was. Sarah wished she had the nerve to wear something so exciting, and, with the mutual admiration and support over, the three of them went over to the Interface to start on designing dresses for the next evening.

"Before we start," Sarah said, a little breathless, "I've got something to tell you both."

"What?" Jeanette asked, with a smile on her face, only slightly less wide and effusive than Sarah's.

"Well," she began, as if revealing some incredible secret. "Malcolm's asked to be my escort!"

"Has he?" squealed Jeanette. "Oh that's marvellous!"

Steve remembered his conversation with Malcolm and Eddie that morning. Perhaps it had worked. "That's really good news," he told Sarah. "You must be over the moon."
"I am!" she exclaimed. "But I'm really surprised. He hasn't spoken to me or anything, it was just there in the mail when we got back from lunch!"

"Well nobody's asked me yet," Jeanette said a little ruefully.

"I thought you said Stuart was going to," Steve reminded her.

"Well I thought he was too," she said. "But he hasn't. Not yet anyway."

"Well don't worry," Sarah told her. "There's time yet." Jeanette smiled in response, and there was a bit of a silence for a while.

"Well Karen didn't ask me either," Steve decided to confess. "She's obviously decided to go with Mandy."

"Pity," Jeanette sympathised. "You two would make the perfect couple."

"Yes," Sarah agreed. "Never mind. Let's show Karen and Stuart what they're missing by putting together the best dresses ever shall we?"

"Yes!" Jeanette enthused. "We'll do that. Come on Steve, let's get to work!"

The next half hour was spent designing costumes for Jeanette and Sarah to wear. Steve even altered the hair on his little facsimile to match theirs; not that it needed much changing for Sarah, who had hair as dark as his, and only a little longer. Steve didn't find dress designing so much of a chore as he had with Janet and Ellen the night before; this was for his friends after all.

Eventually Jeanette decided on a pale blue ball gown, sleeveless, and with a high waist to emphasise her chest. It looked wonderful on the facsimile, who seemed ecstatic about the choice. They matched it with a lovely pair of court shoes, and a hair ribbon, and, very pleased with himself, Steve mailed the design over to Jeanette's Interface so she could have it made up later, and try it on.

Sarah wanted something in white, but was unable to find anything that she really liked at first. All the long dresses made her look a bit too bridal. Steve suggested she try a different colour, and, after a while, came up with a stunning design in fuscia. It had an asymmetrical hem, higher on the left side, and showing her thigh, while hanging below the knee rather elegantly on the other. She cooed with delight when she saw the image of Steve parading in it, and Jeanette agreed that it was wonderful. Smiling at the pleasure he had brought his friends so simply, Steve mailed this across to Sarah, and made to stand up from the Interface.

"Hang on," Jeanette gasped, "we haven't fixed you up with anything yet!"

"No!" Sarah agreed. "You need something special as well."

Steve was surprised to find that he was tempted. He knew he shouldn't be. He was a boy after all, and boys were hardly renown for taking pleasure in wearing dresses. But the excitement he had picked up from the two girls made him anxious in a way to try something for himself. After all, his little facsimile had acted as a model for hundreds of dresses by then. Still, he suppressed these feelings.

"No it's all right," he told them a little ruefully. "I'm still not sure that I'll go. And even if I do, I think I'll wear something plain."

"Oh but you can't!" Jeanette exclaimed.

"No!" Sarah agreed.

"You've got to dress yourself up to show the boys that you're not afraid of them!" Jeanette went on.

"That's right!" Sarah put in.

Steve thought about this. He was still angry with Bryn and Richard. How dare they look up his skirt to test out his lies about his knickers? He was stuck for the time being, having to dress up every day as a girl. If he let them know that he found it embarrassing, humiliating even, they would tease him forever about it. He knew too that he would have done the same to them, had their positions been reversed. The girls must have seen the hesitation on his face.

"Come on Steve!" Sarah urged. "I think you ought to have the loveliest dress there, don't you Jeanette?"

"Yes! That would really show them wouldn't it? If you turned up looking the prettiest, and looking as if you were enjoying it, then they'd never be able to tease you again!"

"That's right!" Sarah agreed.

How would his former friends react if he turned up in a posh frock, he wondered? In spite of Jeanette's assertions, he was less sure that they would be so much in awe of how beautiful he was, so much as incredulous that a boy would willingly wear something so feminine. Still, they were probably still shamed by the reaction to their little prank that morning, not so much his reaction, but the reaction of the other girls on the ship. It would be some time before they mustered up the courage to tease him again, regardless of what he did. But what about Colin and his cronies? They were equally likely to give Steve grief, but whether he turned up looking nice or plain, that was still going to happen. He would have to wear some sort of dress regardless. He bit his lip as he considered his options.

"The thing is," Jeanette went on. "If you don't go to the dance, then Bryn and Richard will think that they've won."

"Yes they will!" Sarah agreed.

"They'll think that they've shamed you into hiding yourself away, and that would be terrible," the taller girl continued. "If it was me, I'd turn up wearing the best dress I could find, and with a broad smile on my face, just to show them!"
"Yes!" Sarah agreed, clapping her hands in support. "You've got to do it Steve!"

He looked from one to the other, and then a grin appeared across his face. "Okay," he said, "Let's see what we can do!" He sat back down at the Interface, almost breathless with excitement. The two girls peered over his shoulders to see what he might come up with. He was surprised to find that it was more difficult to put together a dress for himself than it was for other people. He looked through the options, and eventually settled on a rather simple mid length dress that was black, and off the shoulder. His little mannequin tried it on, and turned around and around, looking quite elegant in an understated way.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Sarah thought for a moment before replying. "Well it's all right," she said, "but it's hardly the dress to end all dresses is it?"

"No," Jeanette agreed. "I think you ought to be a bit more daring."

He looked back at the screen. "Maybe it would be better in white," he suggested, clicking a few buttons, and changing the colour of the dress.

"That's better," Sarah agreed, "but the material's still a bit heavy. Can't you make it a bit more satiny?"

"Satiny?"

"Yes, you know, shiny and shimmery. That might look good."

He wasn't entirely sure that he should be wearing a satiny dress, but clicked through the material options, and changed it to satin. It still didn't look right. The little figure of himself looked as if it was wearing a rather oddly designed petticoat rather than a dress.

"It's a bit too plain," Jeanette said. "Add a bit of decoration. Some lace or something, just a bit of detail."

"Yes," agreed Sarah. "It looks too much like an off the shoulder nightie like that."

Steve played around with the design for a few minutes, eventually giving the dress an embossed flowery pattern that took away the nightie look.

"Oh I like that!" Sarah exclaimed.

"Yes," agreed Jeanette. "But you could make it a bit shorter!"

"Shorter?"

"Yes, you've got the legs for it. See what it looks like shorter."

Steve was dubious, but did as he was asked, lifting the hemline a few inches from the demure length he had first chosen. "More than that!" Jeanette urged. He lifted it a further few inches.

"Oh that looks good!" Jeanette enthused. "That would really create a stir!"

"Yes," Sarah agreed. "Karen's really going to regret not asking to be your escort if you turn up in that."

"I tell you what else you could do," Jeanette went on. "you could sort of gather it up at the sides, into little pleats or something, that would look cool!"

"Yes," agreed Sarah, enthusiastically.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Steve replied.

"Let me," Jeanette said, leaning over him, and taking over the keyboard. She clicked a few buttons, and suddenly the dress on the mannequin took on a life of its own, the white material gathering itself up at the hips into little pleats, and shortening the hem even further.

"Oh wow, that's fantastic!" Sarah gasped, seeing the little model of Steve twirling around in its new creation. "Oh I like that, I like that a lot!"

Jeanette beamed to herself, and then at Steve. "What do you think? You're the one that's got to wear it after all."

Steve looked at the little model of himself on the screen. It looked deliriously happy in its new dress, turning around and around, and occasionally clasping the hem as it did so. "I'm not sure," he said at last.

"You'd have to wear tights with it," Jeanette advised.

"No! Stockings!" Sarah put in.

"Sarah!" Jeanette gasped, and then put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Mind you, it might not be a bad idea!"

"I'm not sure I'm ready for stockings," Steve mumbled.

"Oh but you are!" Jeanette insisted. "It'll be fantastic! Imagine Bryn and Richard's faces when you walk in wearing that, and a pair of stockings!"

"It'll be wonderful!" Sarah agreed.

Steve was in two minds. Part of him was being swept up in the girls' enthusiasm. Wearing a pair of stockings would certainly show everyone that he wasn't afraid of having to wear girl's clothes. But on the other hand, it might seem a step too far, trying to look provocatively female while he was still underneath it all a boy. And when he got back to normal, what would people think of his little sojourn as a girl if he had wilfully worn stockings?

"Well at least let's have a look and see," Jeanette suggested. She clicked once or twice on the keyboard, and the little Steve's legs went instantly shimmery. Steve could almost have sworn that the mannequin flashed its eyes at him in some sort of approval.

"Oh that looks just divine!" Sarah gasped.

Steve looked. The legs on his facsimile certainly looked good clad like that, but you couldn't really see that they were stockings. Perhaps tights might be a safer option, even in the same material. He was about to suggest it, when Jeanette raised the hemline still further, revealing the tops of the stockings, and little white suspenders holding them up. If he didn't know better, Steve would have thought the little model of himself looked outraged by Jeanette's actions.

"That's too short!" he gasped.
"I know that," Jeanette went on, "I just wanted to see what the stockings looked like."

"Wonderful!" Sarah decreed.

"Let the hem back down a bit," Steve asked, feeling a bit embarrassed for his mannequin. With some reluctance, Jeanette lowered the hemline back down, although Steve still thought it was shorter than when she had started.

"Let's get it made up now so you can try it on!" Sarah suggested.

"Oh that's a good idea!" Jeanette agreed, and, before Steve could object, she had clicked the order button.

"Place existing clothing into the recycling chute for disposal first," the screen told him.

He reluctantly began taking off his top, somehow shy of exposing his naked chest to the girls. They seemed totally oblivious to this, however, and he threw the top into the waiting chute. Sitting down, he removed his pixie boots, tights, and finally the little pink skirt, all of which followed the top into the chute.

"Don't forget this!" Sarah said, picking up his bra from the floor, and throwing it in on Steve's behalf. The Interface gurgled a little, and then swallowed Steve's outfit. "I can hardly wait to see this on you!" Sarah cooed, as the Interface prepared to deliver Steve's new frock.

Steve felt a little self-conscious, standing there in just knickers with two girls. Thankfully, and unlike Bryn and Richard, they seemed totally uninterested in his underwear. He quickly glanced down at himself, and saw the pink lace, and the big pink bow. Hopefully that would hide any sign of his manhood from them. Looking down, however, Steve could see no sign of it himself. It occurred to him that it hadn't jumped to attention over the past few days, as it had been want to in recent months. Not surprising, perhaps, given all the traumas he had been through. Nevertheless, he was a little alarmed at its disappearing act, particularly as he was about to put on a dress.

At last the Interface delivered its goods. Sarah jumped on them before he could react, and quickly separated the bra, suspender belt and stockings from the dress. "Put these on first," she said, handing him the underwear, and holding up the dress to examine it.

"I don't really need a bra," he said, looking at the flesh coloured garment he held in his hands.

"You ought to wear one though," Jeanette advised. "It'll fill out the top of the dress better."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, looking at the white satiny number they had designed together. Steve hesitated as the girls cooed over the dress. Should he put the bra on? It wasn't as if it was the first time he had worn one, and Jeanette seemed genuinely convinced that it would make his dress look better. Bryn and Richard would probably mock him for doing it, but what the hell? They were hardly his friends at that moment. If he turned up looking fabulous, it would certainly show them he wasn't cowed by his current status. Feeling defiant, he slipped the bra around himself, and, with some effort, managed to do it up.

"We ought to have done the neckline a bit differently," Sarah muttered, looking at the bodice on the dress. "It's a bit straight across isn't it?"

"I know what you mean," Jeanette agreed. "He could have it cut like this." She indicated on the dress what she meant, but Steve couldn't really see. He picked up the suspender belt, and looked at it curiously. He wasn't at all sure how it went on, but presumed it went around his middle somehow. He stepped into it, and pulled it up to his waist, as the suspenders hanging from it clacked away to themselves.

"How are you getting on?" Sarah asked him, looking away at last from the dress.

"Not too bad," he said, picking up the stockings, and judging that he could put them on like a long pair of socks.

"Oh not like that!" Sarah exclaimed. "You have to feed the suspenders through your panties. Otherwise it's really difficult to have a wee. It's obvious when you think about it!"

Steve did think about it, knowing that he would have to wee like a girl regardless of how he did his suspenders. He pulled a face, which Jeanette misunderstood.

"Oh don't look so sad Steve!" Jeanette urged. "It's not your fault."

"No," Sarah agreed.

"It's hard to remember you're so new to this," Jeanette went on. "We don't mean to upset you!"

"Heavens no!" Sarah said, and came across touching Steve on the arm. She looked at him earnestly, and smiled sympathetically.

"New to what?" he asked shaking his head.

"New to being a girl!" Jeanette exclaimed, and Sarah nodded her agreement.

"But I'm not a girl! I'm still a boy!"

Jeanette looked to Sarah, and they both shrugged. "Of course. We just meant new to dressing as a girl."
"That's right," Sarah affirmed. There was an awkward pause before she continued. "Oh dear, this is all so difficult isn't it? We certainly don't mean to upset you though."

They both smiled at him, and, in spite of his misgivings at suddenly being labelled a girl by his best friends, he smiled back. A little hesitantly, Sarah stepped forward, and gave him a hug. Jeanette joined in, and the three of them stood for a moment in a little pyramid of mutual support. "Poor Steve!" Sarah sympathised. "It must be so difficult for you."

"It is," he agreed, separating from them. "But I'm going to show them that it's not going to get me down!" The two girls smiled at his defiance, and he began to fiddle with the suspenders he was wearing, threading them carefully through his knickers, so they hung down his leg.

"Good for you!" Jeanette told him, and Sarah nodded her agreement. He picked up the stockings, and, sitting down, rolled one up his leg, before standing again, and fastening it up. He repeated the process with the other, while Jeanette and Sarah looked on, holding his dress ready for him.

"Right, I'm ready!" he told them firmly, once his stockings were in place. Beaming, Sarah held the dress out for him, and he took it eagerly, and slipped it over his head. It was tight, and difficult to pull down, but he persevered with it. Sarah stepped forward, and pulled at the hem for him, while he eased it over his bra.

"Oh my God Steve!" Jeanette gasped, holding her hands in front of her mouth. "That looks fantastic! Oh God, you'll wow them in that!"

Sarah continued to fuss with the dress, pulling at the pleated sides, and showing rather more leg than Steve really wanted to. "It suits you," she declared, standing to examine him better "It's really good."

Steve walked over to the mirror to see himself, and was amazed. His mouth fell open, as he saw his reflection. He stared and stared, but could still hardly believe his eyes. He looked beautiful. The dress was fantastic, and rather than looking ridiculous in it, he looked rather elegant and refined. The detail on the bodice seemed to emphasise the very slight chest the bra had given him, and his neck above it looked smooth and soft. He put his hand up to check, stroking his skin gently.

"What do you think?" Jeanette asked. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," he said, breathlessly.

"I'm not sure the neck is entirely right," she went on. "It'd be better if it plunged a bit. Then you could have softer looking sleeves."

Steve stared at himself some more, trying to imagine the changes Jeanette was suggesting. He turned slightly, to see the side view, and was equally mesmerised, his legs glistening under the light as if dusted with gold, as they emerged from the hem of the dress.

"Let's try it on the screen," Sarah said, and went over to the monitor to make the changes Jeanette had. Steve was reluctant to leave the mirror, and simply turned and turned, looking every bit like his little facsimile that Sarah was now adjusting.

"It's beautiful!" he heard himself say.

"I know!" Jeanette agreed. "And so are you!"

He smiled in response, and, snapping himself out of his reverie, skipped over to the monitor to see how the changes were progressing. The lower neckline Jeanette had suggested was definitely an improvement, he could see that. It somehow made the sleeves, and therefore his arms, look that much more delicate than the original straight across look he had gone for. He nodded his approval, and Sarah saved the changes. Oddly he thought, despite the fact that he had originally agreed to go along with the dress to get back at Bryn and Richard, the thought foremost in his mind was that it would make Karen regret not asking to be his escort.

"One half hour until the evening meal is to be served," the Machine announced.

"Oh God I didn't realise it was that late!" Jeanette exclaimed. "I've got a couple of things I have to do before dinner!"

"Me too!" Sarah gasped.

Steve too was surprised at the time. "I agreed to help about ten other people with their dresses as well! They're all going to have the hump with me now!"

Jeanette looked at him, and smiled. "Well you've got to look after number one sometimes."

The two girls got up, and said their goodbyes. Steve was actually rather pleased to let them go. He wanted to have another look at himself in the mirror. Sarah kissed him on the cheek, and gave him a little wave as she left the room. Once they were out of the way, he stood in front of the mirror once more. The dress was gorgeous! He could hardly believe that it was him, standing there in such a wonderful creation. He turned from side to side, pleased at the way it clung to his hips and thighs. While showing a daring amount of leg, it wasn't going to ride up and embarrass him further.

Very reluctantly, he began to take it off, pulling the tight material over his head. He held it in his hand for a few seconds, before placing it carefully into the recycling chute. Still he stared at it in there, sighing to himself, before unfastening his suspenders, and removing his stockings and belt. He slipped out of his bra too, and placed the whole lot into the recycling, before reordering the outfit he had put on that afternoon, the pink mini skirt, and pixie boots. Bryn and Richard wouldn't be seeing the dress until the following day, but he could still show them he wasn't oppressed either by having to wear girl's clothes all the time, or by their behaviour.

He put the outfit back on, and looked at himself again. He looked, and felt, funky, and smiled. The door announced that Sarah and Jeanette were back, and he quickly went across to open it. "Oh my gosh!" he said, as he saw them. They too had got into the mood, and had dressed up for the occasion. Sarah was wearing a pair of metallic blue hot pants, together with a skimpy little top, while Jeanette was wearing a mini dress in silver!

"We thought we'd dress up too, to keep you company!" Jeanette said, smiling widely. Steve beamed back at them. Now this was really friendship, not like Bryn and Richard trying to look at his knickers.

"Come on!" Sarah urged him. "Let's go and show them shall we?"

The three of them all linked arms, and walked towards the Refectory, receiving complimentary comments from some of the girls they passed. They reached the room, and, with a mischievous glance at each other, walked proudly through. For a moment, there was silence from the children gathered there to eat, then Roger, who a few days earlier had worn a skirt himself as part of the protest, noticed them. "Blimey!" he exclaimed, and all the eyes on the room turned on the three friends.

"I didn't know it was fancy dress night," sneered Colin. Steve poked his tongue out at his tormentor, as he, Sarah and Jeanette went across to their table.

"Christ, he really does look like a girl now!" Nigel, another of the skirt wearers commented. Steve did not care. He sat himself down with a flounce, and smiled at his two friends, who did the same. To his surprise, Charles came over and sat down with them.

"You look fabulous!" he said, smiling. Steve returned his smile, but Jeanette and Sarah looked a little put out at the intrusion.

"Thank you," Steve replied graciously.

Slowly the attentions of the diners turned back to the impending meal. Steve picked up a menu to glance through it, and carefully checked that his hair was in place. They stood to collect their meals, and he was acutely aware of Karen in the queue behind him, tall, and in her sweatshirt and jeans, rather elegant.

"You look nice," she said to him quietly. "Very nice."

"Thank you," he said again, turning to face her briefly. She smiled down at him, and he felt himself begin to blush. He should explain himself, he decided, though somehow nervous, or something like nervous, about the tall girl's proximity. "I've decided not to let all this dressing as a girl get me down any more," he announced. "If I'm going to have to do it, I'm going to enjoy myself."

"That's a good idea," Karen told him, fixing him with her deep blue eyes. "I'd do the same," she said, shrugging, "but there's not much to enjoy about boy's clothes is there?"

"I suppose not," Steve replied. He looked at her, and bit his bottom lip, unsure how to respond. Eventually he picked up the courage to reply. "But you look quite good in them," he suggested. She smiled back at him, and he felt a sense of relief. She hadn't been offended by his remark.

He was now at the front of the queue, and turned to pick up his selection, before returning to his table, still flushed at the recent proximity of Karen, and her compliments. He quickly returned to the sanctuary of his friends. Charles looked a little morose, and Sarah and Jeanette, distrustful of male company, were pointedly ignoring him.

"How are things with you?" Steve asked him, while taking a mouthful of his meal.

"Not so good," the other boy confessed. "I asked Sylvia if I could escort her to the dance, but she's going with Eddie instead."

"Eddie?" Steve asked, thinking of the hushed conversation he had overheard before breakfast. Charles nodded sadly.

"So I haven't got anyone to go with," he went on.

"Well," Steve considered. "The Machine will fix you up with someone, won't it?"

"Yes," Charles complained. "But it probably won't be the right sort of person."

Steve knew what he meant. One of the select band of girls that the Machine had told them it would consider reassigning as boys. His heart felt for Charles for a moment. The poor boy had been so sure that he could convince one of them to be assigned his B number, and had pinned all his hopes of becoming a girl on that.

"Well I'm sure they'll be other dances," Steve suggested, but Charles still looked melancholy. Steve sighed to himself. He had to do something to cheer him up."You could always ask me," he went on. "I've not got a date yet."

Charles looked at him in surprise. "Ask you?" Steve nodded. "Well, all right then."

"Well do it properly," Sarah piped in. "You're supposed to ask him properly, all polite and stuff like that."

Steve and Charles both blushed, but Charles took the hint. He coughed before commencing. "Steve," he began, "May I escort you to the dance tomorrow night?"

Steve smiled at him. "Yes," he said. "It would be my pleasure!"

The four of them giggled, and continued with their meal. Once it was finished, Charles excused himself, and went off to the boys' sleeping quarters. Jeanette, Steve and Sarah stayed for a while, basking in the stir they had caused. Richard came across, and, nervously, asked if he could speak to Steve. Curtly, Steve said he didn't have time, and looked pointedly away from his former friend to continue his conversation with Sarah and Jeanette.

A lot of words and giggling later, and Sandra, Sylvia's friend, came over to the table. She was yet another of Steve's customers for his new dress designing business, and she wasted no time in reminding him. Pulling something of a face, he stood up, and walked with Sandra back to his room.

Steve's consultation with Sandra was difficult, not because she was demanding, far from it, but because she seemed to have such a poor opinion of herself, and had very low expectations of how she should look. He sat by the Interface, while she sat huffily on the bed, her arms folded to indicate her discomfort. He tried a couple of general designs, but they did not meet with her approval.

"Well what sort of thing were you after?" he asked patiently.

She shrugged. "I don't really care," she said, looking away. "It's not as if I'm trying to impress anybody."

Steve bit his bottom lip, and looked at her, sitting on his bed, and gazing at the wall rather than him. He did wonder why she had asked him to do this, if she had no intention of cooperating. He fiddled around on the keyboard, and produced a fairly simple full-length dress in satin. "What about this sort of thing?" he asked.

She looked back to the screen and grimaced, looking at his little image, moving from side to side with a self satisfied smile on its face. "Well it looks all right on you," she grumbled. "It wouldn't suit me though." She looked away again, and Steve sighed.

"Well to be honest Sandra, unless you give me some sort of clue of what you're looking for, this is going to be a bit difficult."

She turned back to him, her eyes full of anger, and her lips narrowed. "I thought you were supposed to be good at this."

"Well I don't know about that," he replied. "But I certainly can't work from nothing."

She glared at his legs, and his pink mini skirt, and scowled. "It's all right for you," she told him. "You're nice and thin. You can wear anything."

"I don't know about that!" he exclaimed, defensively.

"Well I do," she went on. "I'm fat and frumpy, I know that."

"No you're not," he assured her, although seeing her slouched, and with her arms folded tightly across her stomach, she had a point.

"I am!" she retorted. "Nobody's asked to be my escort. Sylvia's had four invitations."

Steve shrugged. "Well some of them are probably jokes."

She glared at him again. "The only joke around here is me! The boys all think I'm fat and stupid."

"I doubt that," he said, in as sympathetic a voice as he could.

"They do! I bet you did as well, when you were a boy!"

The accusation stung him, not least because his memory reminded him it was true. A part of him wanted to remind her that he still was a boy, but the time didn't seem right, with Sandra so grumpy with the whole world.

"I'm not sure about that," he said, quietly. "I didn't really think about girls that much." She glared at him again for a few seconds, before returning her gaze to the wall at his side. This was going nowhere. "Look," he said, "just let me stick something together to see what you think of it. I can always mail it to you so you can put it on your facsimile in your room."

He returned to the keyboard, and his simple satin design. He wondered about colours. In her current mood, pink or white hardly seemed appropriate, so he settled for a midnight blue, and left the dress pretty much undecorated. He kept the neckline high, and the sleeves unfussy. His little replica didn't seem over impressed as it twirled itself around to show him what the dress looked like. "What do you think of this?" he asked, moving out of the way to show her.

"I suppose it'll do," she said, standing. "All right, mail it to me, and maybe I'll wear it. Otherwise I might just go in a pair of jeans."

"Oh you shouldn't do that!" he exclaimed.

"Well it hardly matters," she continued. "No-one's asked me have they?"

He stared at her, and wondered how he could help. "Well I can't ask you," he said. "I'm a girl, technically speaking."

"I know that!" she snapped. "I'll probably end up with Charles, or someone like that." Steve's eyes widened a little. She wouldn't end up with Charles; he was going to be Steve's escort. "Sylvia blew him out of the water," Sandra went on. "So he's going to be dateless as well."

"I expect lots of people will be dateless," Steve said. Sandra walked over towards the door, and then turned back to him.

"Do you know it's funny," she began, looking at him appraisingly. "I would always have thought Charles would have been the one to become a girl, not you. When we were growing up, he always seemed a bit of a sissy, but you were just a pain in the backside." Steve was a little hurt by this observation, although he recognised the truth in it. "But since you've become one of us, I've seen a whole new side of you. You're more of a girl than most of us who were born to it, what with your fascination with colours and fashion and stuff." She stared at him again, and shook her head in wonder. "You fit in here better than me."

"Well hopefully I won't be here too long," Steve said, beginning to pout, and wringing his hands a little. Sandra raised an eyebrow.

"Well there's no signs on the horizon that you're leaving that I know of," she said, a little spitefully. "I'll be seeing you." With that, she stomped out of his room, and he sat himself down on the bed. All he was doing was trying to fit in, and make the best of his predicament. Anyone would do the same! How dare she suggest that that meant he was some sort of sissy all along! All he was doing was making the best out of the cards that had been dealt when the Machine decided he was a girl! Anyway, nobody liked Sandra, nobody except Sylvia anyway, so he needn't worry too much about what she said.

It was Sarah's turn to provide the cocoa that night, and he decided to ask his friends about why Sandra had acted so odd. Before he could do so, Jeanette jumped up and down and clapped her hands together as he walked in. "Guess what?" she asked. Steve shook his head. "Stuart's asked to be my escort!" she gushed.

Steve broke into a wide grin. "That's good," he said, taking her hands. Then, rather teasingly he said. "What did you tell him?"

Jeanette giggled. "I haven't replied yet, I thought I'd make him wait until tomorrow morning. I don't want to seem to keen or anything!"

"Oh God!" Sarah put in. "I hope he hasn't asked anyone else as well. If they say yes, it'll make your invitation invalid."

Jeanette looked concerned for a moment, and then smiled. "I don't think so," she opined. "Stuart," she said, pausing for emphasis, "is a gentleman!"

The three of them giggled, and settled down to drink their cocoa. Neither Sarah nor Jeanette could offer any explanation of Sandra's odd behaviour in Steve's room. The closest they got was to suggest that she probably fancied someone, and, in spite of a lot of speculation, they were unable to decide whom it might be.

The three friends stayed up later than usual. The Machine had decreed that there were to be no lessons the day after, but at length, Jeanette and Steve made their excuses, and left Sarah's room, to head back to their own, and a good night's sleep.

  

  

  

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