Girlish

(A love story)

by Karen Singer

 

Chapter 5

 

It had been a lousy week and the next week didn't look to be much better. On Monday I had to carry my new purse to class for the first time. "Miss" Jill's new rule, nothing in my pockets anymore and carry the purse whenever I went out. What a pain in the neck! Not only did I have to carry my books, but the purse too. If I put it over my shoulder, it kept falling down onto my arm. If I kept my arm crooked and carried it that way, I couldn't do much else with that arm – and besides it felt really dorky! If I simply held the strap in my hand I couldn't use that hand for anything else. What a pain! The end result seemed that I was constantly moving it from my arm to my hand to my shoulder and every combination of those that you can think of.

"Miss" Jill had been a pain the last week too. "Don't stand like that, stand like this. Don't sit like that, sit like this. Don't do it that way, do it like this." And over and over again, "Put your knees together!" Nag, Nag, Nag! Doesn't she know how hard it is to sit with your knees together all the time? I'm not built that way, it hurts!

Even the paper I had to write on 'Why I Hate Being A Boy' didn't really suit her. She accepted it and I got some relief, but even there she had just let me "do my thing" as she said and hadn't paid any attention. You would have thought that my climax would have been better, but I just barely enjoyed it.

She just hadn't seemed to be herself all week. And now, since Saturday, I had another blouse, a jumper that went over it, one less pair of pants, one less shirt, and a stupid purse that I had to carry everywhere. Aarggh!!! If I didn't find a way to get some new pants I would be wearing skirts to class real soon. I had only three pairs of pants left in my closet.

I kept looking for a bright side and I didn't see a whole lot. My school work was going really well. Everybody seemed to look up to me as the one person in the class to help them – despite how I was dressed. They all just seemed to accept me as I was – or perhaps as what I was becoming. They had figured out that on Monday's there was always something new and they all couldn't wait to see me on Monday morning to find out what it was, especially the girls. I think they were taking bets on it.

I guess I should mention the only other bright side in my life, Brenda. She and I had taken to sitting out on the front porch together in the evenings just to talk for a while. It was a bit cool out there, but we had it all to ourselves, and I really enjoyed that. She was really nice.

 

The following Friday though was one I'll never forget. Jill had mellowed out again after a few days, but on Friday morning told me not to make any plans for that evening – as if I had somewhere to go anyway. That evening, she and Aaron bundled me into his car and he drove us out to the other side of the city on the outskirts of town. As he pulled into a parking lot, I could see the company name 'Bartholomew Manufacturing' in bold letters across the front of the building. The front door was locked, but was opened shortly after Aaron knocked by a guy who looked more like he belonged in a motorcycle gang. Once we were inside, Aaron introduced his friend simply by saying, "This is Bart."

Bart just looked at me and said with a sneer, "That's Master Bart to you!" Then he looked over at Jill and said politely "Hi, you must be Mistress Jill."

"Just Jill, please. I don't really like the term Mistress."

"Whatever," said Bart. "Back this way." And he led us to his office area in the corner of the plant. Once inside he started telling us a little about his business, well actually, he told them. Me, he seemed to be ignoring completely. The business was primarily a plastics product factory that could turn out a variety of products depending on the customer's requirements. He had inherited the factory from his father and seemed quite proud of how he had made the business grow. Finally he turned to me and simply said "Strip!" in a very no nonsense voice. I looked up questioningly at Jill. She simply nodded.

Aaron piped in at that point and said, "I suggest you do whatever Master Bart tells you to. He's very fond of dishing out painful reminders to do what he says. I also suggest you don't say anything unless you're asked." I again looked questioningly at Jill, only this time my eyes were a lot wider from surprise.

"Stephanie, think about it," Jill said, you can either do this the easy way, or you can resist and it can go very hard on you. But in the end, we're still going to do what we came here for. So I suggest you get your clothes off and do as you're told." I just stared at her for a second then reluctantly started removing my clothes.

While I was undressing, Bart went over to his desk and pulled something out of one of the drawers. "Here it is," he said to them. He held up what looked a little like a plastic jock strap except that it looked hard instead of soft. It had a sort of triangle shaped piece in the front with a waist band that connected at the top. The front piece didn't appear to be exactly a triangle though, as it seemed to be tapered down thinner near the bottom. From the bottom of the triangle, two other bands came out in a V shape and connected to the waist band at the back. The whole thing was sort of flesh colored but perhaps a bit more on the pink side. As he held it, he inserted something in the side of that triangle piece and the waist band popped open. I could see what looked like half inch steel ribbon sticking out of the end of the band. The exposed steel seemed to have a series of jagged teeth cut into it that I realized were what the locking mechanism latched onto. "The whole thing is built around these bands," he was saying, "so despite the plastic covering, it's really strong. We padded the inside of the waist just a little bit to make it more comfortable, then we sealed it all in plastic. The plastic is really strong, but just a little bit flexible so it will be more comfortable to wear. The front piece holds the locking mechanism and also a series of molded tubes that all lead down to this hole here." He turned the device up to show them a single hole at the very bottom of the triangle. "That's where he'll pee out of now." Then he turned the device over and I could see what looked like a thick piece of black rubber attached to the inside with a large zipper on it. "The other end of that pee tube is connected to this," he said, "and this is where we put his penis." He was smiling as he said that last part, and something in the way he seemed to enjoy saying it told me I wasn't going to like it.

He looked up at me to make sure I was finally naked. Fortunately, I was. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the corner where there was a small winch hung from the ceiling. The winch chains were hanging down and there were two padded leather straps attached to them. Bart fastened the straps around each of my wrists, then pushed a button on the wall and my arms began lifting over my head. He stopped the winch just before I was about to have to get on my toes. I wasn't going anywhere again. Jill came over to me and unlocked and removed my cock restraint. For once, I wasn't sure I wanted it gone.

"Let me show you how this works," Bart said to them as he brought the device over to me. "Oops," he said handing the device to Aaron, "I almost forgot one of the most important parts." He went back to his desk and took something out of a dish of liquid. Coming back over to me he held up what looked like a small plastic tube, maybe a little longer than and inch. It had a round plastic flange about a quarter of an inch up from one side. "He's going to need this once the device is on," he said simply. The he grabbed my penis and began inserting the long end of the tube right in it! I was so surprised. I tried to wiggle away, but he held me firm, and there was no place to go. It didn't really hurt, but it didn't exactly feel normal either. He put it all the way in until the flange stopped it. "There, he said when he had finished. I just looked up at Jill in surprise. She was only staring at my cock, now with that tube sticking out of it.

"Ok, lift your leg," Bart said to me as he held the device out next to my right foot. I dutifully lifted my foot and he slipped the device over it and drew it up to my groin. "The other end of that tube goes right in here," he said as he pushed the other end of that tube and my penis into a small cupped depression in the end of that black contraption on the inside of the device. He wedged the tip of it in hard, and I realized that if that part was supposed to hold my penis, he had constructed it too small. A bit of relief swept over me as I knew he would have to go back and remake it, and I wouldn't have to wear the thing yet.

"It looks too small," Jill said sounding shocked and disappointed.

Master Bart looked up at her with what looked like triumph and glee in his eyes. "Not a bit. Just watch." And with that, he shoved the whole device back into me driving the remaining part of my cock back into my body. "Oh, I didn't know it could do that," Jill said fascinated. "But it still looks like you won't be able to zip it up."

"Oh yes I will," Bart said with glee. "Keep watching." He folded the inside flap over my penis and tucked it under the top part. Then he slowly began pulling up on the zipper. It felt like someone had wrapped their hand around my penis and was squeezing it one finger at a time until he got the zipper all the way up. My penis had been squeezed down into the size of that tiny container. My eyes were bulging. I realized that the top of that tube that held my penis was longer than the bottom and was curved so that with the device holding my penis straight down, my penis was totally covered top and bottom. I was squeezed so tightly that without that tube he had stuck in me, I wouldn't be able to pee at all.

"God!" I heard Jill say. "Does that hurt?" she asked me.

"Not really," I replied still shocked and surprised, "It's just very tight."

"Now we really should take care of these," Bart said grabbing one of my balls.

He started to push on it hard up into my body. I was about to cry out in pain when suddenly if felt like something inside of me gave way and my ball popped through and was gone! I was so surprised and was about to ask what happened but Jill beat me to it. "What happened? What did you do?" she asked.

"I just pushed it back up into its original socket," Bart said while beginning on my other ball. He pushed hard again, and again, just as I was about to cry out in pain, the pain and pressure went away – along with my second ball. They were gone! "It gets easier the more you do it," he said as he seemed to be folding the empty sac that was left until there wasn't much of it either.

Then Bart stuck the open end of the belt into the matching slot in the waistband and pushed it in. I heard several small clicks as the locking mechanism grabbed each of the teeth on the band. The more he tightened it, the more the whole thing seemed to contract and push itself into my body until when he was finished, the two straps in the back were very tight, and the front piece was pushing hard into my groin. My poor compressed penis was compressed even more. "There," Bart said with some satisfaction. "Comfy?" he asked me. I didn't answer.

Aaron finally spoke up at that point and said, "One of the biggest challenges we had in building this was creating the one-way valve just below where the catheter goes into it to prevent anything from coming back up the tube and into his penis." I was beginning to think that it was Bart who had designed and built the entire thing.

"It sure was," Bart agreed, "and building that little valve you designed wasn't easy, but it works. Now, this is the key," he said as he held up a thin curved piece of metal.

"It doesn't look like any key I've ever seen before," Jill said.

"That's because it's designed specially for this," Bart said. "The curved shape goes into the slot on this side. Then it catches on the release lever inside. You just have to pull it up and it opens the belt. The curved shape doesn't allow him to put anything flat and straight into the slot to try to open it. It has to be this shape or it won't go in and it won't engage the catch. There are also holes at the bottom of the key slot with tubes that lead right to the main pee tube so that any water that gets in it will simply drain out. It will also help to keep the inside of the main tube clean. Here try it."

Bart handed the key to Jill and she tentatively inserted it into the slot. Then when it was in all the way, she tried to pull up on it. She had a bit of trouble so she pulled harder. Suddenly, the catch freed and belt popped open. I gave a grunt in surprise and relief. "It's a bit difficult to release," she said.

"We made it stiff purposely," Bart replied, "to make it harder for him to get out of."

Jill then took the open end of the belt and pushed it back into the front piece again. As she kept pushing it in, I once again felt it contracting on my body. "It's really a tight fit," she said as the last of the teeth finally locked home.

"We don't want it slipping off now, do we?" Bart said with a bit of amusement. "Now, I think it's time we give it the final test. With your permission Mistress Jill, I'd like to give the pansy here 5 minutes to get out of it. And just so he has a little bit of incentive, will you consent to allowing him, oh say… a week without any cock restraint at all if he can get it off?"

Jill was still staring at the belt on me wide eyed. "Oh, sure," she said as if she only barely heard him.

"Got that wimp?" he said cruelly at me. I just nodded my head enthusiastically. Any chance to get out of that belt and especially to be without any restraint for a while would be absolutely wonderful! He reversed the winch and as my arms came down he unstrapped them. I stood there for a second and just rubbed my wrists. "Well?" he almost screamed at me. "What are you waiting for? I started your time two minutes ago!"

With that I began trying frantically to get that darn belt off of me. If I tried to push it down in the front, it seemed to be catching right on the top of my cock. It certainly wasn't going anywhere that way. If I tried to pull it down in the back and at the sides, it wouldn't budge either. My hips and butt just seemed to be too big to let it pass. All I did was make it hurt more by trying to push it into a place where it didn't fit. The only thing that made it hurt less, was to pull it up tighter into my crotch, which was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do.

As I danced around frantically trying to free myself from the infernal thing, I heard Bart talking again. "I can't wait for you to finish your new design," he was saying to Aaron.

"New design?" Jill asked.

"Yeah," Aaron said. "I had an idea to modify it a bit so that you can give the wearer an instant period."

"You're kidding," Jill exclaimed.

"No, really. I'm planning to use the front piece to hold some kind of a liquid to simulate a woman's period and have it drip out of the pee tube. I just haven't worked out the delivery method yet. I don't want it to run out all at once. Even better, I'd like it to be variable so that sometimes he would have a light flow, and sometimes he would have a heavy flow. You could load the liquid in it, you wouldn't even have to tell him, lock the belt on him, and wham, instant period. And there wouldn't be anything he could do about it. I'm afraid it will have to go sort of on the back burner for a while though, I have more pressing school projects that have to come first."

Bart looked over at me still pushing and pulling on the belt, and getting nowhere. "I think I can safely say that he's not going to be getting out of it." I looked up at them with pure frustration in my eyes. "Ok, Wimp, put your panties back on. Let's see how it looks under them." I dutifully pulled my panties out from the pile of clothes on the floor and pulled them on. They completely covered the belt and as I looked down. From what I could see, there wasn't much of a trace of it at all and my crotch area looked totally flat and strange to me.

"God, look at that!" Jill said in astonishment. "He looks like a girl there now with that thing on." She seemed to be getting more and more excited. "Put your pants back on," she ordered me. So I quickly found my pants and pulled them on. Jill came over and pulled them up at the crotch to look. "There's no sign of anything there," she said excitedly. "I love it! You two did a wonderful job. Aaron, you're a genius, and you Bart, are the craftsman of the year. She ran over and gave Bart a big hug and planted a kiss on his cheek, then did the same with Aaron.

"You can finish getting dressed now," Aaron said to me as Jill continued to tell them how delighted she was. They were all very happy about it. I certainly wasn't.

As I was getting dressed, Aaron started to tell Jill about some other things we needed to know. "With this design, he's going to probably need to wear some kind of pad in his panties all the time. Since he's peeing through a tube now, it may drip a bit even after he thinks he's done peeing."

"That should be no problem," Jill said happily, "we'll stop on the way home and get him some."

"Also, you should probably take it off of him once or twice a week to clean him up good. The catheter tube should be dipped in some kind of antiseptic solution too just to keep germs out."

"How about what we use for his earrings? Will that work?"

"That should be fine." Aaron said.

As we walked back out to the car, I was really happy to get out of there and away from Bart. I didn't like him. As soon as we were in the car, Jill said, "I can't wait till tomorrow."

Tomorrow, what was happening tomorrow I wondered? I had sort of been looking forward to going to another football game, I hoped I still could. I wasn't looking forward to our weekly shopping trip. Now it seemed I had something else to worry about.

A little while after we got home, I had to pee for the first time. That's when the real impact of that device hit me. There was no question about standing or sitting to pee. With the old device I sort of had an option, I could stand if I really wanted to, but it was a lot easier to sit. Now, with this new device, there was no option. In fact there wasn't anything – and that was the problem. Before, there was always something there that I could see and touch, for my whole life there had always been something I could pull on and feel. Now, there was nothing. I couldn't even feel my trapped and compressed penis inside the device anymore. I pounded with my fist on the hard front cover and didn't feel a thing. It was like losing an arm or a leg. I wanted to reach out and touch something there so badly like I had always done, but now, there was nothing to touch. I knew that in reality it was all still there, but just knowing it did no good. For all intents and purposes, it seemed to be gone. Not even a bulge. And losing it hit me hard.

As I sat to pee, all I could do was to relax my muscles and let it out. With that catheter in my penis, I couldn't really feel myself peeing. Fortunately I could hear it as the pee rushed out of me, through the device and splashed out in a stream straight down into the water. I kind of had to listen for when I was done. I sat there for a few extra seconds to let it drip but didn't hear anything. I took a bit of toilet paper and wiped the pee hole and saw that the paper got just a little bit wet. I knew I was going to need those panty liners Jill had picked out for me. The whole thing left me very depressed.

Back in our room, Jill still seemed to be happy and excited. She redid my fingernails again, even though it was only Friday and I had touched them up on Wednesday. She usually filed and shaped them once a week on Sunday and then on Wednesdays I had to touch them up if they needed it. She said that doing nails relaxed her and it was something she enjoyed. In the time since I had gotten to school, my nails had grown out longer and now, filed to a very feminine taper, I thought my hands looked more like girl's hands. When I had complained to Jill about the length getting in my way as I typed, she had just said, get used to it. Now that they were longer still, I found myself moving and using my hands differently to avoid chipping the polish or scratching my self with them. It was another inroad that had been made on me towards a girlish end.

That night, I discovered that sleeping in the new device was a lot more comfortable than the old one. Lying on my stomach didn't pose any problems at all. No dreams of anything that might cause me to get hard or erect woke me up because it was like there was nothing there to worry about getting hard or erect. I could dream of it all I liked with no pain - it just didn't do any good.

 

Saturday morning, Jill practically dragged me out of bed and pushed me to get ready for shopping. We went back to Wal-Mart again. I thought we would be heading straight for the lingerie section since my paper that week had been on bras and bra fitting – a simple research paper for once. I dreaded the thought of having to wear a bra. But once in the store, Jill surprised me by heading straight over to the junior's department and started looking at jeans. I was a lot happier about that.

She picked out a pair of low rise jeans that had fancy embroidery on the back pockets and a colorful belt, and then she took me over to the fitting rooms. "He wants to try these on," she said to the attendant there. The attendant didn't look too happy about it and stared disapprovingly at me for a few seconds. "Please," Jill said to her. Maybe it was my earrings, but she finally relented and sent me back to one of the rooms with the jeans while Jill waited out in the store for me to come out wearing them.

The jeans seemed to fit me fine especially since they seemed to stretch a bit. They were a bit tighter in the crotch than I was used to, but that certainly wasn't a problem, anymore. When I went out to model them for Jill, she pronounced them as being a bit too big and made me stand there while she went to get another pair. Too big? I thought they were just fine. The legs were way too long, but that was a problem I usually had even with boy's jeans. As I stood there waiting, I noticed the attendant staring at those jeans on me. Her eyes were wide open as if in surprise. I ignored her like I did most other people when I was out. Jill came back a few minutes later with two other pair, one the same as what I had on, and another pair that looked awfully feminine too. Both of them were a size smaller than the ones I had on.

As I pulled on the smaller sized jeans I realized they were going to be a lot tighter and I was glad for that stretchy fabric. When I modeled them for Jill, she got very excited and pronounced them as perfect. For some reason she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the front of them. I modeled the second pair for her too and she liked those too. I complained about the length of the legs, especially the second pair. She told me that I just needed higher heels. I decided not to push that one.

After that, it was back to look for another pair. Instead of jeans, this time Jill picked out a dressier pair of kaki colored slacks for me. They had a stretch waist and no fly opening or pockets of any kind. Trying them on, I realized they were a lot more comfortable than those tight jeans and the legs didn't seem to be quite as long. They were just awfully feminine. Jill liked them on me and that blew my budget for the week.

Jill practically rushed me out of the store and back to the car. I realized she was driving a bit faster all the way home. As soon as we got there, she had me put on the first jeans I had tried on. Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me over to Aaron's room and knocked on the door. When the door finally opened, it looked like Aaron had just gotten up. I could see that Mark wasn't in the room again. "I just had to show you how he looks in his new jeans," she said excitedly. Aaron just stood back for a few seconds looking at me, then smiled and said, "They really look great on him." I could tell he was still half asleep.

The door to Bruce and Melissa's room was open so Jill dragged me down there next. Bruce wasn't there, but Melissa was. "Mel, look at his new jeans," she said excitedly as she dragged me into the room.

Melissa turned from doing her hair and looked over at me. She smiled and said, "They look great on you." Then she looked closer and I saw a look of amazement come over her face. She looked up at Jill and said, "What did you do? It's incredible, the front looks just like a girl! There's no sign of a bulge at all."

What was the big deal I wondered as Jill and Melissa talked? I walked over to the mirror in the room to look at myself for the first time in those jeans. At first, it looked like I was just wearing a pair of jeans, but then as I looked closer at my crotch I saw that I really did look like a girl. The tight jeans accented and showed off my now completely smooth crotch. Forget my earrings shouting out how girlish I was, now my flat crotch broadcasted it even more! I suddenly felt very self conscious and embarrassed about wearing them.

When we got back to our room, Jill almost proudly went through my clothes and picked up my last three pair of pants. She folded them on her bed, picked them up, and before she carried them down to the storage room said, "This is a big day, from now on, no more men's pants for you." Then she happily headed downstairs taking a major link with my male past with her.

I sat on my bed feeling very dejected. At least I had some pants now, even though they were girls, but the way they showed off my crotch, I almost thought that wearing a skirt would be better. At least no one would notice then the reshaping of my groin.

I had to wear my heels to the football game that week. The legs on my new jeans were just a bit to long for my sneakers and Jill didn't want them to drag on the ground behind me. Fortunately, the big t-shirt I was wearing covered my crotch area completely so I wasn't self conscious about my jeans at all. Jill wasn't happy about the way it hung down, but she didn't make me take it off. We lost the football game that day, but I had a great time anyway.

 

Later that evening I found myself having a lot of trouble studying. I kept thinking about losing my "manly bulge" and the rest of my male pants. I guess I get moody at times, but I started feeling really sorry for myself. I went out to the front porch to sit for a while. Brenda wasn't home yet and I found myself really wishing she would get back soon.

Just as I saw Sharon's car turn in the driveway, my cell phone rang. It was Mom. When she asked how I was, I just said "Fine," and that was it. She seemed to pick up instantly on the fact that something was wrong and kept pushing me so I said, "We lost the game today."

"Stephen," she said, "I know you better than that. This isn't the first game your team has lost this season. Now what's the problem?"

I guess all my frustration that day came to a head because without really thinking about it, I just blurted out "They're turning me into a girl."

"What?" she said. "What are you talking about?"

"They're making me dress like a girl." I replied.

"Stephen, is this one of those hazing things? If so, you know it will only last a few days then it'll all be over. Maybe it will be fun."

"No Mom, it's not hazing. They've been doing this to me for a long time."

"Stephen, you're not making sense. Why don't you start from the beginning and explain it to me."

So that's just what I did. I hadn't wanted to do it, in fact I didn't want to tell my mother at all, but I found myself starting right from the very first day and telling her everything – well almost.

Brenda came out to the porch while I was talking and listened for a while. Then she simply leaned over, planted a kiss on my cheek, and left me alone to finish my tale. I talked for a good twenty minutes straight. Thinking about it, it was probably the first and only time my mother had never said a word on the phone for that length of time.

When I was finished, she said she simply didn't know what to say. She asked me if I was going to quit school. "No," I emphatically told her. I'm doing really well.

"Well, what do your other friends seem to think about all this?"

"They really don't seem to care at all," I told her. "They all know what's going on and don't really give me any problems about it."

"Well, how about the school? Doesn't the school have any rules about something like this?"

"No, they have a very lenient policy towards such things."

"Well Stephen, I simply don't know what to tell you. You're too far away to come home every night. As I've told you in the past, you're just going to have to learn to fight your own battles. I can't always be there to help you. And I simply don't know what to tell you about this. It's all a bit hard for me to believe."

"There's nothing you can do," I told her, "and I'm trying my best to fight this thing. I just don't seem to be winning yet."

"Well good luck to you then. And in the future, don't be afraid to tell me these things. I'm your mother."

"I know Mom, I'm sorry,"

"Well I'll hang up then – I love you Stephen."

"I love you too Mom." And it was over. I did and I didn't feel any better. Now my own mother knew and with her mouth, so would everyone else back home. I was glad I wasn't there.

 

 

INTERLUDE

 

Steve's mother sat for a long time just thinking. It was a strange phone conversation. Not like anything she had ever imagined she might hear from her son. She wanted to help him so much, but she just didn't know how. She thought about calling her sister to talk about it, but decided against it. In fact, she didn't really feel like telling anybody about it yet. All day Sunday she brooded about it too. What could she do to help Stephen?

Early Monday morning, she phoned in to work to tell them she would be late. Then she started making phone calls to the school. Who could she ask about such things? She got bounced around from department to department, from person to person until almost an hour later, she found herself talking with a Ms. Carter in the Curriculum Advisor's Office.

"Yes Ma'am, I'm very familiar with your son's situation," Ms Carter said into the phone. "Since he was a late acceptance, it's part of my job to keep a little closer watch on his progress. I can tell you that academically, he is far exceeding our expectations. In fact I recently spoke to each of his instructors and the general consensus is that he's pretty much at the very top in all of his classes. None of his instructors seem to feel that the way he has been dressing has been in any way a problem in his classes. I even had one instructor tell me that if dressing more like a girl could improve the test results that much, then maybe all the students should try it – even the girls."

"But doesn't the school have any rules about this? Isn't there anything you can do to help him?"

"I'm sorry, but this school maintains a very open policy towards such things, and so far, the way he has been dressing has in no way hindered, or been any kind of problem to the classes. This business of him being forced to dress that way is a private matter. He is not a resident in our dorms and so the school has no jurisdiction of any kind in this case. I wish I could help you more, but there's nothing I can do. I can tell you though, that he doesn't seem to be having any problems with the other students. Every time I've seen him, he seems to be in the company of lots of friends. So he is getting along socially as well as academically."

"Well, thank you for your time. I just don't know what to do for him."

"If I may make a suggestion?"

"Please!"

"Your son is going through this fighting it all the way. He's trying to appear to be a man while at the same time he's dressing more and more like a girl. He's straddling the fence, if you know what I mean. Perhaps it would be easier on him if he tried to dress and act completely like a girl and blend in more."

"That's a strange suggestion to hear from you! I was hoping for some way to get him out of this and back to his old self again instead of pushing him further into it."

"I'm sorry, but it's the best solution I have for you."

"Well, thank you anyway." And with that, she hung up the phone in annoyance. It was so frustrating. She had no way to help him and it seemed that the school didn't care – maybe they even approved. In desperation, she picked up the phone again and dialed her sister.

  

  

  

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