Punished at Primary School

by Jennifer

 

Chapter

1. Punished in a Girl's Mackintosh

2. In Trouble Again

3. Back to School as a Girl

4. Anyone for Netball?

5. A Rainy Day

6. Hair Ribbons

7. The Shopping Trip

8. The Tea Party

9. My Coming Out

10. Miss Jones Learns the Truth

11. My New School Routine

12. Some New Dresses

13. A Visit to Brighton

14. A day at Susan's School

15. My Transformation Begins

16. The Irreversible Change

 

 

CHAPTER 1

Punished in a Girl's Mackintosh

 

My name is Tommy Anderson, and I want to tell you about a drastic experience that changed my entire future when I was aged 10 at primary school. But before I do, maybe I should give you some idea of the background to my misfortune.

St. Michael's Primary School was a good school, so I can't really blame them for what happened. No, the problem was me. Ever since my parents had been divorced a couple of years before, my 15 year old sister Susan and I had lived with my mother Mary Anderson in a village in Sussex. But without an authoritative figure in our household to keep me in line, I grew more and more unruly. Dad had always given us a hard time with his domineering ways, and with his departure, Mum and Susan had become very disenchanted with the male of the species.

I fell in with a gang of boys in the village who were notorious for their unsociable behaviour. Unfortunately, I continued this mode of behaviour, and as time passed, the frequency of my misdemeanours grew. On many occasions, my boisterous ways caused Mum to say 'If only you'd been born a girl!' Little did she realise how prophetic those words would prove to be. Both my mother and teachers became increasingly frustrated in their attempts to contain my irresponsible defiance of their authority, and by the time I was aged 10, they were at their wit's end to find a means of correcting my behaviour. And that's when my story begins.

One afternoon I had been sent out of the classroom for being disruptive, and wandered, bored, into the cloakroom. While I was there, my eye was caught by one of the girl's raincoats hanging on a clothes hook. It was of a type very popular for the junior girls at the time, a red mackintosh made of rubberised cotton with a satinette finish. It was double breasted, with a belt and an attached hood with a button fastening under the chin. I curiously fingered it, and wondering what it was like to wear, I took it down off the peg. I slipped my arms into the sleeves, buttoned it up, and secured the belt around my waist. Then I put up the hood and buttoned it under my chin. I looked in a large full length mirror, and smiled as I saw just how much like a little girl I now looked. The material rustled as I moved, and enveloped me completely when I fastened it up.

At that moment I was horrified to hear a chuckle behind me. I swung around, and there in the doorway was Harry Wyatt, my worst enemy, standing there laughing at me. He giggled as he told me that Miss Jones wanted me back in class, and then he raced back to the classroom, leaving me to unfasten the mac and put it back in a panic. I tried as fast as I could to get back into the classroom quickly, but my delay meant that Miss Jones wanted to know what had taken me so long. I immediately knew that Harry Wyatt had sneaked on me and had told her of the mackintosh incident.

I didn't know what she had in mind, but she sent me back to fetch the mac. Blushing with embarrassment at being caught out, I reluctantly went back to the cloakroom and brought it back with me. 'Give it to me' said Miss Jones, sternly. I slowly gave it to her, and she held it up for the rest of the class to see. 'Who does this mackintosh belong to?' she asked. Fiona McPherson put up her hand and said 'It used to be mine Miss, but it's been hanging there for ages. I stopped wearing it because it's such a babyish style. My mum's bought me my school uniform raincoat now, so I've decided to get rid of it. One of the junior girls can have it if they like.'

At this, a slight grin came over Miss Jones' face, and I had a horrible suspicion as to what was about to happen. 'Well everybody' she said to the class, 'It was very wicked of Tommy to take this mackintosh and put it on without the owner's permission, wasn't it? It's nearly as bad as stealing. What do you think we should do with him?' She held the mackintosh up for everyone to see, and the hint didn't go unnoticed.

'Make him put it on Miss' giggled Harry, 'He wanted to try it on, so let him look like a girl if that's what he wants!' I could have killed him as a chorus of laughter went up, especially from the girls. Fiona giggled and said 'Oh yes Miss, please, please make him put it on!'

Miss Jones smiled and said 'Very well, let that be his punishment. Come over here Tommy.' I slowly walked across to her as she held out the mackintosh ready for me to put on. 'Right' she smiled, 'Here you are little girl, arms in.' She held it up for me to put on, and I reluctantly put my arms into the sleeves. Then standing in front of me, she pulled the mackintosh on and fastened the buttons up to my neck. Next, she did up the buckle belt and secured the end with a button fastening behind me.

Fiona McPherson was a couple of sizes bigger than me, so the sleeves of her mackintosh came down as far as my fingers, and the hem hung down several inches below my knees. Now I really felt like a little girl, and blushed with humiliation. 'Well, what do you think girls?' said Miss Jones, 'Doesn't he look like a sweet little girl in her nice babyish mackintosh? It certainly is a perfect punishment for a naughty boy, but we just need one final touch I think. Let's just see how he looks with the hood up, shall we?' She stepped up to me and pulled up the hood, buttoned it securely under my chin, and pulled the hood well forward. The hood was in a style that used to be popular with girl's regulation school raincoats, with a square cut about 4 inches long running across the top at the back of the head.

She stepped back, looked at me, gave a slight chuckle, and said 'There now, doesn't she look cute?' Fiona giggled, and said 'Doesn't she just!', pleased to see her discarded mackintosh being put to such effective use. 'I know Miss' she laughed, 'Let's call him Jennifer, just for today.' I was regaled with cries of 'Jennifer' from all sides, and could have wept with humiliation. I realised now that if the idea was to humiliate me, then it was exactly what Miss Jones was looking for. With my face peeping out from under the mackintosh hood, it was hard not to believe that it was being worn by a little girl of about eight. Miss Jones looked at me, giggled for a moment, and with a wide grin on her face said 'There you are then little girl, you can keep that mac on just as you are, for the rest of the day, and I'm going to make sure that you wear it just like that, with the hood up, all the way home whether it's raining or not. And just to be sure that you do, I will accompany you home. Now sit down on this chair at the front, facing the class, and put your hands in your pockets.'

So there I sat, wearing a girl's mackintosh with the hood up, the buttons and belt fastened, my hands in the pockets, and the whole class laughing their heads off at me. I endured their laughing and giggling for the rest of the afternoon, and as the time passed I began to feel hotter as the rubberised satinette trapped my body heat. With the hood tightly fastened on, I felt not only humiliated but uncomfortable as well. Every time I peered out demurely from under the hood, someone would catch my eye and giggle at my discomfort. From the beginning of my punishment until it was time to go home seemed an eternity, but as promised, it was not due to end there. As the finishing bell went, Miss Jones prepared to continue with my humiliation. As we stood up to go, she said 'Which of you girls would like to walk home with Jennifer?' Half a dozen willing hands shot up, accompanied by giggles of delight. 'Very well then' She said, 'Come along and we'll take little Jennifer home to her mummy. I'll explain why she's been punished, and I'm sure her mummy will approve.'

I now had to endure the humiliation of being walked home with Miss Jones, while the girls teased me unmercifully as we went. It took an interminable half an hour, and when we arrived home they continued on their way, and Mum let us in. As soon as she saw me she chuckled for a moment and said 'Oh my goodness, I thought it was a little girl for a moment!' Then with a puzzled expression of concern she turned to Miss Jones and said 'What's happened? Why on earth is he wearing a girl's mac?'

Miss Jones unbuttoned and lowered the hood of my mackintosh and helped me to take it off, and I heaved a sigh of relief at looking normal again. As she did so, she explained to my mother what had happened, and to my disappointment, instead of sympathising with me as I'd hoped, Mum said that she was pleased that I had been so effectively dealt with. Then came the worst bit. Having seen just how effective my punishment had been in subduing my behaviour, Miss Jones suggested that if I were to misbehave in any way again, it might be a good idea to make me go to school for a week or two wearing not only the mackintosh, but also dressed completely in one of the girl's school uniforms.

Despite my vehement protest at the idea, my mother felt that the threat of such a punishment just might bring me into line, and she agreed. As a constant reminder for me, Miss Jones decided to leave the mackintosh with Mum, and they hung it up conspicuously on a hook in the hall. I was glad to be divested of the humiliating mac before Susan arrived home from school, but even so, when she did arrive, I blushed deeply as Mum and Miss Jones told her what had happened. Susan and I have never really got on well together, and like many teenage girls, she regarded her younger brother as a pain in the neck. A broad smile crossed her face as she heard of my punishment and the threat of my having to go to school dressed as a girl, and I could just imagine how much she hoped that she would have the pleasure of teasing me in such a situation.

It was certainly threat enough to make me behave (temporarily), but not long afterwards, Miss Jones caught me red handed breaking one of the school's strictest rules. That was to be the last straw, and Susan's hope would come to fruition.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

In Trouble Again

 

I was blissfully unaware that the incident with the mackintosh resulted in Miss Jones bringing up the subject of my behaviour at a staff meeting a few days later. When the meeting reached the subject of any other business, she said 'I think we should discuss the increasing problem of Tommy Anderson's behaviour. I think you've all heard about the incident with Fiona McPherson's mackintosh last week, and how making him wear it brought about a remarkable degree of submission in him. I suspect that by threatening to dent his pride in similar fashion we might possibly have an idea that could put an end to his errant ways. In other words, the threat of making him attend school for a while dressed as a girl. I mentioned the idea to his mother, and she is fully prepared to cooperate with the idea. She is at her wit's end as much as we are.'

Miss Winthrop thought for a moment. Then she said 'Well I have heard of such a punishment being used occasionally in other situations. I read a case in the paper the other day when a judge in America sentenced two boys in a small town to be dressed as girls for a month for stealing milk bottles. I don't know if it corrected their behaviour, but I imagine that such an experience would be something that no full blooded boy would ever want to risk repeating. However Miss Jones, we must remember that if we do threaten Tommy with such a punishment, we must be prepared to carry it out. An idle threat is worse than no threat at all. How long do you suggest that it should last?'

'I mentioned the figure of two weeks when I suggested it to his mother.'

'Hmmm. Not quite long enough I think. I would like this to be something that will be a deterrent to every other boy in the school.' She opened the school's punishment register. 'Let's see now, Tommy has been brought to see me eight times so far this year. That's an intolerable frequency. Very well, I suggest that he receive a warning, and if he commits a misdemeanour warranting my attention again, he will undergo this punishment for a period of eight weeks. That will remind him how many times he's already been in trouble this year. Very well Miss Jones, I think your idea is an original but effective one. If you'd like to send Tommy to see me afterwards, I'll explain the situation to him, and I'll leave you to explain it to his mother.' So the stage was set for one of the most unpleasant periods of my stay at St. Michael's Primary School.

When I was sent to see her, Miss Winthrop explained the situation to me with icy clarity. This was an ultimatum, and there was no question that I now knew exactly where I stood. One more serious incident and I would be for it. Unfortunately, as usual, I didn't take any more notice of the warning than I had on previous occasions. Some people just never learn.

Miss Jones came round to our house the following evening to explain the situation to my mother, and I sat at the table with them as she did so. One subject that came up was my possible refusal to cooperate if my punishment became warranted. At this point my mother showed more than her usual strength of resolution. 'Don't worry' she said grimly, 'If he doesn't comply, he'll miss out on going to stay with his relatives in Australia over the summer holidays, he'll have no pocket money for the rest of the year, and to keep him totally under control, I'll lock away all his boy's clothes indefinitely and replace them with his sister's old clothing. That way he'll have no choice but to dress as a girl anyway. Oh yes, I think I can make him cooperate if he's silly enough to misbehave.' I was horrified as I heard the threat of such retribution, and unable to stand any more, I dashed upstairs to my room to avoid hearing what other treats they might have in mind. I spent a sleepless night thinking about it, but as usual, I just couldn't take them seriously. Surely they wouldn't do such a thing would they? Not really. No, they couldn't.

I managed to stay out of trouble for all of 10 days. But inevitably it happened yet again. It was during our lunch break, and for obvious reasons we were strictly forbidden to leave the school premises unaccompanied by an adult at lunchtime without the express permission of a teacher.

I think that on this occasion I was simply forgetful rather than disobedient, but

that wasn't going to make any difference anyway. A rule is a rule, and is made to be obeyed without question, which was something I just didn't seem to understand. However, on this occasion I was about to be taught a lesson I would never forget. I was sitting in the school playground finishing my sandwiches, and it being an unseasonably hot day, the idea of an ice cream suddenly sprang to mind. I looked at the school clock and saw that we still had half an hour left before afternoon classes. Jingling the money in my pocket, I knew that the sweet shop down the road was only a two minute sprint away. Looking at the open school gate, I decided to chance it.

I walked slowly over to the gate and looked around me. The duty teacher Miss Simmons was deep in conversation with some children with her back to me, and without hesitation I stepped out of the school gate, and started running down the road as hard as I could. I breathlessly reached the sweet shop and went in.

The shop's owner, old Mrs. Lovejoy, looked at me with surprise. She knew full well that we were forbidden to leave the school at lunchtime, and even then, not on our own. 'My goodness Tommy' she exclaimed, 'What are you doing here, you know you're not allowed out at lunchtime. You'll be for it if you're caught!'

'Yes I know' I said, taking some money from my pocket, 'But it's so hot today, and I'm dying for an ice cream.'

'Well I shouldn't really' she said, 'But since you're here, what do you want?' I quickly extracted an ice cream cone from the fridge, gave her the right money, ran to the door, and flung it open in my haste to get back before being noticed. As I turned into the street I skidded to a halt. Oh no! There in front of me were my form teacher Miss Jones with another member of staff, about to enter the shop themselves.

Miss Jones looked at me for a moment, and a stern frown crossed her face. 'Well well well' she said, 'Tommy Anderson. I knew you couldn't stay out of trouble for long. This is the last straw. Come on, I'm taking you to see Miss Winthrop.' Now I realised that I really was in trouble this time. She took my arm, and leaving the other teacher to go into the shop she led me firmly back up the road to school. I feverishly devoured my ice cream as if it were my last meal on earth.

As soon as we were back, she led me straight to the headmistress' study, and knocked on the door. 'Come in' said a familiar, authoritative voice. We went in, and both stood in front of her desk. 'Well' said Miss Winthrop, her eyebrows raised inquisitively, 'Trouble already? What's he done this time?' It took little time for Miss Jones to report me, and as she finished, the headmistress turned to me and said 'Well Tommy, you know the school rules well enough by now. Why did you leave the school grounds on your own, and without permission?' I was almost speechless, and mumbled something about needing an ice cream because it was so hot. That didn't help one bit.

Miss Winthrop gave me a baleful stare, and I felt myself withering as I heard my fate. 'Very well Tommy, we've given you every chance, and the time has finally come for you to mend the error of your ways. The seriousness of deliberately and flagrantly leaving the school premises unaccompanied requires an appropriately serious punishment as an example to all the other boys and girls, and will guarantee their compliance in future. So I'm going to make an example of you. You are already aware of your punishment Tommy, aren't you?' A cold chill went up my spine as I realised that the nightmare of humiliation that I had been threatened with was actually going to happen.

'Yes' I whispered, with a feeling of foreboding.

'Very well' said Miss Winthrop, 'Then we'll proceed. However, this term finishes next week, so I suggest that your punishment begins at the start of next term instead. That will give us time to arrange for a couple of girl's school uniforms to be delivered to your mother, and give you something to think about during the holidays. And in addition' she added thoughtfully, 'To make the experience a little more salutary, I've decided that you may as well wear the girl's uniform for the whole term.'

A whole term! I gasped in horror at the prospect, and blurted out 'Oh no! Please! Not a whole term, I couldn't stand it!'

'I'm sorry Tommy' said Miss Winthrop, 'But you're always getting into trouble, so hopefully this will teach you to think before you act.' She thought for a moment, and then added to my misery. 'Miss Jones, I also feel that his punishment should be unremitting for the entire term. In other words, I don't think he should able to change back into his boy's clothing at weekends. I suggest that on Saturdays and Sundays he should still be dressed as a girl, but not in school uniform. I'm sure we can find some suitable little frocks for him to wear.' Miss Jones couldn't resist smiling at the prospect, and said 'Oh that won't be a problem, I'm sure we'll be able to arrange it. He has an older sister, so I'm sure his mother can find something suitable.'

'Good' said Miss Winthrop, 'And by the way, since he will be in the relatively familiar shelter of the school from Monday to Friday, I wonder if you could ask his mother to take him into town at weekends. I'm sure that a walk in the precinct dressed in a pretty little frock will do wonders in deflating his ego.'

'Oh I'm sure Mrs. Anderson will be more than pleased to arrange it' grinned Miss Jones. I almost burst into tears at the prospect.

'Excellent. That's settled then' said Miss Winthrop. 'Now take him back to class. You may like to explain the situation to the other children, and if you don't mind, I suggest that you take him home after school and explain everything to his mother to ensure that she is fully aware of the arrangements.'

'Of course' said Miss Jones with a slight grin of amusement.

We respectfully withdrew, and she led me back to my classroom where the other children waited expectantly to find out what had happened. I sat down at my usual desk, and blushed more and more deeply as Miss Jones explained to them what I had done, and what my punishment was to be. As my humiliation increased the amusement of my classmates changed from grins to giggles, and finally to outbursts of derisory laughter.

'Oh great!' yelled Harry Wyatt, savouring every moment 'Tommy Anderson a sweet little schoolgirl, and for a whole term! That's brilliant!'

'I can't wait to see him dressed just like one of us' giggled Fiona McPherson, 'He'll look so cute! – especially with a couple of pretty bows in his hair!'

'All right everybody, simmer down' said Miss Jones. 'I know you think it's hilariously funny, but it isn't just for your amusement. Leaving school on your own and without permission is a very serious matter. We are legally responsible for you, and it's in your own interest to understand that. And don't forget you boys, especially you Harry Wyatt, any serious breach of the school rules and you can join Tommy. Think about that. And as for you girls, don't worry, I'm quite sure we can come up with something equally horrendous for you.' By now you could have heard a pin drop, and with order restored, the lesson commenced.

At 3.30 the bell rang, and Miss Jones dismissed the class. I was regaled with more humiliating comments from the others as they filed out, until finally I was left alone with Miss Jones. 'All right Tommy' she said, picking up her bag, 'Let's get you home and tell your mother what's happened.'

In the half hour it took to walk home, little was said. I was far to busy worrying about what Mum would say when she found out about my latest misdemeanour. But eventually we reached my front door, and Miss Jones rang the bell. The door opened, and there was my mother. When she saw Miss Jones she immediately knew that something was wrong, and invited her in. We all went into the lounge and sat down. As Miss Jones explained what had happened, an expression of concern crossed her face, 'Oh Tommy, how could you be so irresponsible! I'm sorry Miss Jones, but as soon as you tell him not to do anything it goes right out of his mind. I despair sometimes.'

'Yes I know' said Miss Jones, 'And this time, Miss Winthrop has decided that we should carry out the punishment he's been threatened with. In other words, he'll go to school for a while wearing a girl's school uniform. She feels that the entire duration of next term would be appropriate after so many serious misdemeanours, and that in order to maintain continuity, he should be dressed as a girl at weekends as well, but preferably not in school uniform.'

'Oh my goodness' said Mum, 'A whole term dressed as a girl. What about the school uniform?'

'Oh that's no problem, I'll bring it round next week. Two complete changes should be enough.'

There was a long pause as Mum considered the situation. If this had just been a one off situation she might have objected, but this was the final straw that broke the camel's back. My heart sank as she looked at me with a frown that slowly changed into a grin. I knew what was coming, and I had only myself to blame.

'Very well then' said Mum, 'Why not? I must say I've just about given up trying to get him to do as he's told, but with your help this really could bring him into line.' She paused for a moment and then stood up decisively. 'Yes, you have my full cooperation Miss Jones. Together we just might achieve the impossible, and I must say it will certainly be a lesson he'll never forget.' Looking at me she smiled and said 'Come to think of it, it'll be quite nice to have a little girl around the house again, now that his older sister's well into her teens. Wait until she hears about this, she'll never let him forget it. And come to think of it' she grinned thoughtfully, 'I've still got plenty of the clothes Susan wore when she was his age, so we can certainly keep him dressed as a girl at weekends as well. I've got some delightfully sweet frocks for him to wear that will fit him quite nicely. And as a precaution I'll lock away all his boy's clothing for the whole term, so he won't be tempted to run away. I don't imagine he'd want to go very far dressed in a nice cute little dress.'

'Very true' grinned Miss Jones, 'By the way, what size is he?'

'He's a size 10.'

'Good, I'll bring round a couple of size 10 uniforms during the school holidays.'

'Fine' said Mum brightly, 'You know, the more I think about it, the more I think that this really is an excellent chance to instil some common sense into him, even if it will puncture his pride. A little bit of humiliation won't hurt him, he's been getting really disobedient lately, so I think that this will do the trick very nicely.'

I was doomed and I knew it. Between the combined forces of both Mum and the school, I didn't stand a chance. And in all honesty I knew I'd done wrong, so I decided to accepted my fate with as much dignity as I could muster. I didn't yet realise just how difficult that was going to be.

Miss Jones took her leave, and I awaited the arrival of my older sister home from school with dread. I could imagine how amusing she was going to find this. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Susan let herself in by the front door, and as she came into the lounge, threw her hat onto the sofa and dropped her school bag heavily on the ground. As soon as she saw my face she realised that something was wrong. 'Why the long face Tommy?' she said with a slight frown, 'What have you done this time?' Mum now began to explain what had happened, and the consequent punishment I was about to undergo.

As I've mentioned before, there was no love lost between my sister and I, and as I expected, she displayed no sympathy at my plight. Quite the opposite. As Mum told her the full details of what I was to undergo, Susan's expression changed from puzzlement to comprehension. At first she grinned, and then a broadening smile crossed her face, followed finally by a series of giggles.

'Well well well' she chuckled, 'So my pain in the neck brother's going to be turned into a little girl. What a delightful prospect! You never know, it may even teach you to behave.' I groaned inwardly as I realised with what relish she was going to enjoy my predicament. I'd given her no end of trouble over the years, and she was obviously going to use this opportunity to make me pay dearly for it.

We didn't talk much about the subject of my punishment. She knew how I must be feeling, but knew that I probably didn't want to dwell on it. The next few weeks leading up to it would be bad enough.

The end of term soon arrived, and during the holidays Susan didn't make any attempt to hide her amusement about my impending predicament. She teased me endlessly, and took special delight in going through her old dresses to select what I would have to wear at weekends. It was sheer misery. When Miss Jones brought my school uniform round, Susan suggested that I should try it on there and then, but I insisted that my punishment wasn't to begin until the beginning of next term, and I was therefore able to avoid that humiliation, at least temporarily. Unfortunately, our return to school was inevitable, so she was still going to have the pleasure of seeing me dressed as a girl sooner or later. How I hated the prospect. The two weeks holiday was the most miserable I'd ever had, and Sue certainly didn't help.

Inexorably, the new term finally arrived, and the day before I was due to go back, Mum insisted that I could no longer put off trying on my school uniform. This time I was in no position to argue, especially when she said that she wanted to be sure that it fitted me and to allow time to make any adjustments. And so, taking me up to my room, Mum began my transformation into a sweet little schoolgirl. Yuck!

She'd already laid everything out on the bed, and told me to remove all my clothes. With a sigh of resignation I undressed until I stood before her totally naked. 'Right' she said brightly. 'Vest first.' She picked up a white winceyette vest, not very unlike my own, and helped me into it. But the next item definitely wasn't like anything I'd ever worn. Mum held out a pair of navy blue girls school knickers and said 'In you get.' I stepped into them, and she drew them up my legs until they were round my waist. Then she tucked the vest into the waist band of the knickers. They were slightly baggy, and the elastic around my upper thighs and waist felt restrictive.

Next came the summer dress that I'd seen the girls in my school wearing so often, and now it was my turn. It was a typical girl's primary school summer dress made of blue and white check gingham, with a row of white buttons up the front to the neck. It had short sleeves with white cuffs, and a white pointed collar, and there was a breast pocket with a white strip along the opening. The belt was fitted with a white plastic buckle, and was threaded through two keepers attached to the dress at the sides of the waist. On the end of the belt was a buttonhole to stop the belt slipping open.

Mum held the dress up and put it over my head while I put my arms into the sleeves. Then she pulled it down over me, and fastened the buttons up to the neck and secured the belt in place. On my feet went a pair of white ankle socks which she turned down neatly, and on top of those, a pair of brown T bar sandals with buckles at the side of the foot. She made sure that the strap buckles were tightly fastened so that they could not come off.

Taking down a royal blue school blazer from its hanger, she held it out and I obediently put my hands into the sleeves. Then she pulled it up onto my shoulders and arranged it neatly. 'Now' she said, 'One last thing.' She picked up a cream coloured straw hat with a royal blue hat band with the school crest at the front, and put it carefully on my head. Finally she pulled down the hat's elastic band and tucked it under my chin. 'All right' she said, 'Let's go downstairs and show you off to Susan.'

'Great' I said gloomily, and we set off downstairs. We went into the lounge, and Susan got up from the sofa. A grin crossed her face, which rapidly changed to a giggle before she burst into roars of laughter. 'Oh yes!' she chuckled, 'What a gorgeous little schoolgirl! Oh boy Tommy, you look absolutely delightful.' Her mirth began to subside, and she suddenly reached forward and removed my hat. She looked at me for a moment before beginning to grin maliciously. 'You know what?' she said, 'There's just one thing needed to complete the picture.'

'Oh?' said Mum, 'What?'

'Hair ribbons' smiled Susan, 'A nice pair of white bows in his hair, one on each side. The school regulations say white or royal blue hair ribbons can be worn by the girls, don't they? Go on Mum, let me do it.'

'All right' laughed Mum, 'Go ahead.' I groaned as Susan dashed upstairs, and soon returned with a hair brush, ribbons, and other accessories. 'Right Tommy' she said, 'Sit down, and keep your head straight.' At this point I'd given up on protesting, and sat down. With a wide grin on her face, Sue expertly cut two lengths of white hair ribbon and trimmed the ends at an angle. 'Now' she said to me, 'This I am going to enjoy. My revenge for all the horrid little things you've done to me in the past. Let's see how you like having nice pretty bows in your hair, just like the other little girls at school.'

It was now that I regretted having avoided a haircut for months. Long hair was considered a mark of being in my gang, and consequently my long hair came down well over my ears and past my neck. Brushing her hand through my long hair, Susan giggled and said 'You know Mum, his hair is shorter than many girls, but certainly not too short for hair ribbons I think.' Unfortunately for me, she was right. It was definitely long enough for hair ribbons.

I glumly endured what was to become a daily ritual for the next ten weeks. After combing my hair down the centre, Susan picked up an elastic band, and pulling my hair on one side into a bunch, she wound it tightly around my hair. She did the same on the other side of my head, so that I now had two bunches of hair sticking up conspicuously. Then, taking a length of white hair ribbon, she wound it firmly around one bunch of hair, tied it tightly in position in a non-slip bow, and pulled it down the bunch of hair closer to my head. 'Ow!' I said 'That hurt, it's too tight!'

'Nonsense' said Susan, grinning slightly, 'That's how it has to be done. Don't worry, you'll get used to it.' She repeated the process with the other bunch of hair, and finished off the effect by clipping two pink plastic hair slides into my hair to secure the ribbons. As a finishing touch, she combed my hair forward in a fringe, and taking a pair of scissors, cut it across the front in a neat, even line.

After making a few adjustments to make sure that the bows were even in length, she straightened them so that they were at the same angle to my head. Then she stood back to admire her handiwork. She smiled broadly and said 'There we are, one little girl, ready for school.' Mum grinned and said 'Lovely. Yes, I see what you meant about the hair ribbons. He looks delightful, just like you did when you were his age. Stand up Tommy, come and see yourself in the mirror.' She took me out and stood me in front of the hall mirror. I looked at myself and was horrified. I was almost unrecognisable. There in front of me was a demure looking sweet little primary school girl. I groaned at the prospect of looking like this for the next couple of months, and as I stared at myself, Susan added my crowning glory. She lowered the school hat onto my head and tucked the elastic under my chin.

'Right' said Mum, 'Now come back to the lounge and let's make sure that everything fits you properly.' I stood there with my feet together and hands by my sides in true little girl fashion, while Mum pulled and tugged at my uniform. 'Well I must say' she said, 'Miss Jones did very well with the size. It fits you perfectly. Good.'

Impatient to remove the hated garments, I said 'Please Mum, can I take it off now?' Despite the frown of disappointment on my sister's face, Mum relented. 'All right' she said, 'But make sure you hang everything up neatly. Susan, you can show him while I get the tea ready.' Susan accompanied me up to my room, and gloated as she helped me remove the uniform and hang it up. I winced as she reluctantly removed the humiliating hair ribbons. 'Never mind' she grinned, 'I can't wait to see you off to school in the morning. You'll just have to get used to having bows in your hair, won't you?' Keeping a dignified silence, I dressed in my normal clothes with relief, while Susan took great pleasure in reminding me that I could say goodbye to them for the next ten weeks as of tomorrow. I could have punched her, except she was bigger than me.

We went down to tea, and Susan's irritating comments ceased for a while. We spent the evening watching television, but I couldn't concentrate as I contemplated what the next day was going to be like. I shuddered to think.

At long last Mum said 'All right Tommy, time for bed, I want you up early tomorrow. For the first few days it will take longer to get you ready for school if I'm going to help you get dressed and do your hair. And by the way, as you know, Miss Jones only lives round the corner, so she's going to pick you up every morning and walk you to school, just to make sure you get there. She'll also bring you home after school. I don't want you getting into any scrapes with the other kids, and if you're on your own you're bound to get into a scrap with some of the other boys dressed like that. So Miss Jones will be here at 8.15, and I want you ready in plenty of time. Now go up to bed and I'll put your light out in a minute.'

I grudgingly said goodnight to my grinning sister and went upstairs. In a short space of time I was lying in bed, and Mum came into my room. She sat on the bed and ran her hand through my hair affectionately. 'Oh you silly boy Tommy' she half smiled, 'You see where thoughtless disobedience can get you? Now I want you to take your punishment as you should. I know it's going to be very hard for you, but everything comes to an end eventually. Whatever you do, you must do as your teachers tell you, and don't get into any fights. You must ignore all the taunts you will be bound to get from the boys in particular. Now here's what I want you to do. I want you to pretend that you don't mind a bit. Try and imagine for the time being that you really are a little girl. Behave like one. If you do, the others will soon get bored with it and will leave you alone. Do you understand?'

Of course! The answer to my survival was to not let the others get under my skin. Once they thought that I didn't mind being dressed as a girl, they would almost certainly give up. It was worth a try anyway. 'OK Mum' I said, 'I think I understand. But it will be hard not to punch one of the boys, especially Harry Wyatt. He's the worst.'

'All right then' said Mum, 'He's your main target. Resist his insults by not getting angry, and then you've won. But don't forget' she added, 'You'll still have to be a little girl at weekends. And that means coming into town with me when we go shopping.' She thought for a moment before her face brightened. 'Look, I'll tell you what. One of my friends has a wig that I'm sure will fit you. When we go out at weekends you can wear it. With that on, everybody will think that you really are a girl, and no one will laugh at you. How's that?'

I suppose it was a minor consolation, but I was grateful for it. 'All right' said Mum, kissing me goodnight and standing up. 'Now get to sleep, and I'll wake you in the morning.' She walked to the door, switched off the light, and left me alone with my thoughts. I was tired from the day's emotional turmoil, and quickly fell asleep thinking eight weeks as a girl. What will it be like? I was about to find out.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

Back to School as a Girl

 

The first day of the new term was a Tuesday, and dawned warm and clear. Mum came into my room early, and told me to get washed before she dressed me. I went to the bathroom, and soon returned to see my school uniform laid out ready for me. I now went through a repeat of yesterday's familiarisation with my various items of girl's schoolwear, and was soon sitting down having my hair tied in ribbons just as Susan had done the day before. At least Mum didn't tie them so uncomfortably tightly. Nevertheless, Mum had had years of experience with putting Susan's hair in ribbons, so they certainly wouldn't come undone.

Once I was dressed to Mum's satisfaction we went down to breakfast. Needless to say, my sister lay in wait, eager to inspect me. As I came into the kitchen she looked at me and grinned. 'Oh yes' she chuckled, 'Very nice. A lovely demure little girl all ready for her first day back at school. You look delightful! And just think. When you're older, perhaps you can come to my school with me. How would you like to wear a uniform like mine!'

I couldn't help glancing at her and gulped at the very idea. Susan was dressed in her school uniform consisting of a blue and white candy striped belted dress with a back zip, peter pan collar, and short sleeves. A navy blue blazer went on top, with white ankle socks and black T bar sandals on her feet. The hat she wore to school was a cream coloured straw panama with a striped hatband in her school colours, a crest at the front, and elastic to fit under the chin and keep the hat firmly in place. In other words, the very essence of an English schoolgirl. Even the idea of having to wear it made my blood go cold at the prospect. I tried to ignore her, but glared at her silently, which only made her smile more as she relished my humiliation.

Putting my school hat aside, I sat down to breakfast. My stomach was churning with nervous anticipation, and I didn't eat much. All I could do was stare at the kitchen clock as the minutes ticked inexorably by towards the dreaded time when Miss Jones would arrive to collect me. After breakfast I went upstairs to clean my teeth, and went down to sit in the lounge until it was time. I sat on the sofa nervously fingering my school hat until eventually it was time.

I jumped nervously when I heard the front door bell ring. Mum went to the front door and I heard her invite Miss Jones in. A familiar figure came into the room with my mother and sister and I stood up. I stood there awkwardly as Miss Jones looked me up and down. She smiled and said 'Well my goodness Tommy, you look perfect. If it wasn't for your short hair I really would think you are one of the girls. I think Miss Winthrop will be quite pleased, and I'm sure your classmates are going to enjoy it.'

Looking at her watch she said 'Well, I suppose we'd better be off. Come here Tommy and I'll put on your hat for you.' My heart thumping, I went over to her and gave her my hat. She placed it on my head, being careful not to disturb my hair ribbons, and pulled the elastic down under my chin. 'There' she smiled, 'Perfect. You look very nice, a typical little primary school girl.' Susan grinned as she could barely contain her mirth.

So the time had finally come and it was time to go. I felt rooted to the spot until Miss Jones took my hand and said 'Come on now Tommy, you'll get used to it.' She gently but firmly took me to the front door, and Mum opened it. 'Now don't forget what I said last night' she said to me, handing me a small pink lunch box that had belonged to Susan, 'Do exactly as Miss Jones tells you and you'll be all right. Now off you go.'

With a despondent sigh I stepped out into the bright morning sunshine, and without looking back, walked down the path with Miss Jones. Behind me, Susan couldn't resist a parting shot as she called out 'Have a nice day at school little sister, and don't forget to use the girl's toilet!' I could have killed her. A slight smile flickered across Miss Jones' face, and she relinquished her grip on my hand once we were walking along the pavement. 'That's a good point actually' she said, 'I think you'd better use the staff toilet this term, to avoid any complications.' I breathed a sigh of relief. The prospect of using either the boys or the girls toilet would have been equally humiliating.

As we approached my school, the first hint of what I was going to be in for began. Three girls on the other side of the road looked across at me and fell about laughing. 'Oh look!' shouted one, 'It's Tommy Anderson, dressed as a girl! Doesn't he look sweet!'

'He look gorgeous' said another, 'Even cuter than my little sister! I reckon he, I mean she, should still be in kindergarten!'

'I wish I was in his class' yet another added, 'They're going to have a ball!'

Things now got worse as the girls crossed the road and joined us, teasing me unmercifully all the way to school, and more and more came running across to laugh at me. It was already horrendous, and things had hardly started yet. By the time we reached the school gate and went in, I was surrounding by a small crowd of jeering girls and a grinning bunch of boys. 'Who's a lovely little girly then?' said one, 'Did you leave your dolly at home?' Another wave of laughter followed me as Miss Jones took my arm and led me inside. We went to Miss Winthrop's study, and Miss Jones knocked on the door.

'Come in' came a voice from within. We went in and Miss Jones stood me in front of Miss Winthrop. Instinctively, probably due to the clothingI was wearing, I stood to attention with my feet together and my arms by my sides, in the typical stance of a polite little girl. The Headmistress looked me up and down before breaking into a slight smile. 'Ah, here you are' she said. 'Well Tommy, I must say that you make a very good looking girl, don't you? But remove your hat dear, you must never wear your hat indoors.' I obediently and tentatively removed my hat and held it in my hands in front of me, fingering the brim nervously. 'Oh yes' said Miss Winthrop, 'I do like the hair ribbons, a very nice touch. I can't think of anything more humiliating for a boy than that. Yes I must say Miss Jones, you've done a wonderful job, he looks quite delightful. Quite the little girl.'

'Now' she said, looking at me more seriously, 'This isn't some piece of fun, as you know. I can imagine just how you must be feeling at the moment, and that's the whole idea. With you as an example, I suspect that no boy in this school will be giving us very much trouble in the future, so you are serving a very useful purpose. You must now accept your punishment, and get used to being treated as one of the girls in your usual class. You will attend classes normally, with two exceptions. You will attend needlework classes instead of woodwork, and instead of playing cricket with the other boys, you will play netball with the girls. Miss Jones, do you have a netball tunic that will fit him?'

'Oh yes, I can supply everything he'll need.'

'See to it then. All right, that will be all for now, let's see how he'll enjoy meeting his classmates.'

The interview over, Miss Jones took me out. Classes had begun, and by the time we reached my classroom, all my classmates were sitting at their desks under the supervision of another teacher. Miss Jones propelled my unwilling self into the room and stood me next to her desk, facing the class. A howl of uncontrolled laughter went up. This was the moment I'd been dreading, and Miss Jones decided to let them have their fun for a few moments.

Harry Wyatt was first of course. He'd been savouring this moment. 'Oh my goodness!' he said in a falsetto voice, 'Tommy Anderson's turned into an ickle pretty wittle girl! I always knew he was a sissy!'

'If I'd known he was a girl I wouldn't have picked a fight with him last term!' said his companion. The girls were even worse. 'Isn't he cute!' squealed one, 'We'll have to make sure he plays with the juniors at breaktime.'

'Can you tie your own hair ribbons yet little girl?' said another. 'Don't worry, we'll soon teach you to tie the neatest hair bows in the school.'

Fiona McPherson had her moment of fun. 'Did you bring my old mackintosh to school with you?' she laughed, 'The one you had to wear last term? Don't forget, you'll have to wear it when it rains, and we've already seen how sweet you look in it.' She turned to Miss Jones, and I could have cursed her as she reminded her of it. 'Please Miss' she said, 'Can he wear my old mac to school sometimes, even when it's not raining? I'd love to see him in it on a hot sunny day, like I had to sometimes when I was little. After all, it was mine once.'

I groaned again as Miss Jones smiled and said 'Why of course Fiona, thank you for reminding me about your mackintosh. I'll see that he wears it sometimes, rain or shine.' Fiona looked at me and grinned with satisfaction, as she knew from experience what it was like to wear a rubberised satinette mackintosh in warm weather. Uncomfortable to say the least.

'All right everyone' said Miss Jones, 'You've had your fun, so let's get on with some work. Tommy, you sit down here at the front in your usual place; put your hat in the desk for now, but normally you can leave it on your clothes hook in the cloakroom when you arrive.'

And so my term of purgatory began. Sitting down at the front of the class I was mercifully unaware of some of the looks I must have been getting, but I was still plagued by a continuous quiet little symphony of titters and giggles. Otherwise, the lesson continued as normal, except I found it hard to concentrate. Hardly surprising. When the morning recess arrived, I chose to stay in the classroom, dreading my first foray alone out into the playground, and when it was over I was glad that Miss Jones returned before my classmates. The lesson proceeded without much interruption, and it was clear that Miss Jones was protecting me from my peers' derision for as long as she could. But as the lunchtime break approached, I realised that I would shortly be thrown to the wolves.

All too soon the lunch bell rang, and knowing that no one was allowed to remain in their classroom during the lunch break, I heaved a sigh of resignation, took my lunch box out of my desk, and went out into the playground. At least Miss Jones had diplomatically been rostered on to playground duty that week, so she stayed close to me to prevent anything by way of physical violence (inflicted by me on one of the boys, that is). She knew that wearing a dress wouldn't prevent me from giving almost any of them a bloody nose, but she also knew that I would only be punished more severely if that happened. Nevertheless, my reception wasn't pleasant. As soon as I set foot outside, a roar of giggles and laughter met me, and the humiliation was terrible.

I managed to find a bench to sit on while I ate my lunch, but I soon began to find out just how cruel little girls can be. Knowing this, the boys left me alone, well aware that the girls were capable of denting my pride far more than they could, and also with the distinct memory of how many of them had received a severe drubbing at my hands in the past. They knew that there was no way that I would hit a girl, and that I would have no choice but to accept their sharp female witticisms.

I soon found myself sitting with a cluster of girls who opened their own lunch boxes and began to tease me. Fiona was first, she really was enjoying herself. 'Well I must say' she began, 'I'm glad to see that our new girl is properly dressed. I think her school uniform suits her better than me, and aren't her shoes nice and shiny?'

'Typical new girl' said another, 'All neat and tidy.'

'And those hair ribbons are so pretty'giggled another, 'We must give her some lessons in how to tie them herself next week. She mustn't expect her mummy to always do them for her.'

Fiona looked thoughtfully at me for a moment, and then a wide grin crossed her face. 'You know' she said, 'We can't go on calling her Tommy, can we? I mean, it's just not right for a girl. She needs a new name, something more suitable. Something like Jennifer for instance?'

'Jennifer!' said one of the others, 'Oh yes, Jennifer, that's perfect!'

'Jennifer Anderson' chuckled Fiona with satisfaction, 'Yes, it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it. And it means that her initials are still the same.'

A ripple of giggles went up around me, and I now knew that I was doomed to spend the rest of my days at this school with 'Jennifer' as my nickname. I could have cried with humiliation. 'Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer' they recited, as I sat there unable to do anything about it, and I blushed to the roots. They knew very well how I must be feeling, and they were enjoying every minute of it. But even then, I remembered Mum's advice and tried not to show my feelings, knowing that the sooner they thought I didn't care, the sooner they would leave me alone. But it was going to be an uphill battle.

The lunch break finished, and I had never before been so relieved to return to the classroom, where my classmate's opportunity to tease me was much more limited. Nevertheless, my heart sank when the bell went for the last lesson of the day. As we rose from our desks, the boys to go to their woodwork lesson and the girls to go to the needlework room, Miss Jones took me by the arm and led me towards the door. I almost dragged my feet as I realised full well where she was taking me. Surrounded by the other girls (I suppose I might as well say other girls by now), we walked down the corridor and into the needlework department.

Miss Jones stood with me by her desk until all the girls were sitting at their workplaces and said 'All right girls, carry on from where you left off last term while I introduce Tommy to some basic sewing.' Several girls giggled, and Fiona called out 'Excuse me Miss, but her name's Jennifer now.' A roar of laughter went up, but Miss Jones said 'Well I can't stop you from inventing nicknames, but I think you're being very cruel. And as far as the staff are concerned, he will continue to be called by his proper name. Now you've had your little joke, so get on with your work.'

The girls took out their various projects, and soon an array of dresses and aprons were spread out around the room. Miss Jones took me aside to a workplace in the corner and sat me down. Not too unkindly she said quietly 'You know Tommy, sewing isn't just for girls, and you certainly wouldn't call every tailor a cissy, would you? Now I'm going to teach you some simple skills so that for the rest of your life you'll be able to mend your own clothes, and even make a few simple items. That'll be more than your friends will be able to do, won't it?' She was so kind, and I was grateful that she was my form mistress.

My first venture into the world of needlework was to learn how to thread a needle and sew on a button. Miss Jones gave me a piece of material and some buttons to practice with, and after an hour under her guidance I had managed to do it several times without pricking my finger too many times. I was so absorbed with it that I was surprised when the bell went for the end of school. As the girls hurriedly put away their work and dashed from the room, Miss Jones looked at my first efforts. 'Well' she smiled, 'Tommy, that's very good, very good indeed. As a matter of fact, it's better than almost any of those girls managed with their first try. Well done. We'll make a tailor of you yet.' I flushed with genuine pleasure at the compliment.

'Well I suppose we'd better be off home' she said. 'Put your work away and we'll go.' I looked at my work and then said 'Please can I take it home to show my Mum? I've never done anything like this before.' She smiled. 'Of course you can' she said, 'Keep it in this bag.' She gave me a cloth bag, and I put this example of my newly acquired skill inside.

We went back to the classroom, where I retrieved my school hat, and Miss Jones placed it carefully on my head and pulled the elastic down neatly under my chin. Then we were off. As we walked out of the deserted school, I realised that I would at least avoid being tormented by the other children. They'd been in such a hurry to get home that they'd temporarily forgotten me. But I knew that sooner or later they would lie in wait to make my walk home as humiliating as possible. Children can certainly take cruel advantage of their peers, especially when it's supposed to be a punishment anyway.

But on this occasion at least, my walk home with Miss Jones was a quiet, gentle affair, and as we came closer to home, I started to take on the gait of a girl, taking shorter steps than usual, and moving a little more gracefully. Miss Jones noticed it, and smiled as she said 'You know Tommy, you're walk's becoming quite natural, as if you really are a girl. I've seen a few boys dressed as girls in school plays and so on, and I'll tell you what, you're the best I've ever seen.' I didn't know whether she was just trying to make me feel better, but I think the compliment was genuine, and I felt better.

We reached home, and as Mum opened the front door and we went in, Miss Jones said 'Here you are Mrs. Anderson, one little girl home from school, all safe and sound.'

'So she is' laughed Mum, removing my hat and hanging it up in the hall. 'How did it go?' Over a cup of tea in the kitchen Miss Jones told her of the day's events, and of how patiently I had endured the teasing and torments of the others, especially the girls. Then she said 'And I think Tommy's got something to show you.' I took my sewing out of the bag and gave it to Mum. She looked at it with a critical eye, looked at me and said 'Did you do this Tommy?'

'Yep' I said proudly, 'All by myself.'

'Well I must say I'm impressed. Does that mean you'll sew your own buttons on from now on?'

'And yours too!' I said. The two women laughed good naturedly, and I felt more relaxed than I had all day.

'Well I must be off' said Miss Jones, 'I'll see you in the morning, and hopefully, Tommy's second day will be as successful as his first. You know, I don't think this term is going to be quite as bad for Tommy as I thought it would be.'

We got up from the table, and saw Miss Jones out. Then Mum and I returned to the kitchen. Suddenly she hugged me for a moment, and then began to fondly adjust my hair ribbons. 'You know Tommy' she said, 'I think Miss Jones could be right. Now go into the lounge and I'll start on dinner. Susan should be home any minute.' I went into the lounge, switched on the television, and sat on the sofa feeling more relaxed than I had all day. Hardly surprising.

My reverie was disturbed by my sister's arrival home from school. She went into the kitchen to talk to Mum before coming into the lounge. 'Well well little sister' she sniggered, 'I wonder how you liked your sewing class. Was it fun sitting with all the other girls? What are you making, a sweet little party frock?'

'Oh shut up!' I retorted, 'As a matter of fact I learnt to sew on buttons, and there's nothing cissy about that!' Susan decided to give it a rest, so she just grinned and went into the dining room to lay the table for dinner.

Our evening meal was relatively pleasant. Susan had decided to call a truce for the moment, although she still couldn't resist instructing me how nice polite little girls should sit and eat their food daintily. I just ignored her, until Mum told her to stop teasing me. After dinner, we washed up together, and then sat watching television until Mum said it was my bed time. 'Come on Tommy' she said, I think I'd better come up with you and help you undress. I've got a bit of a surprise for you.' I said goodnight to Susan and followed her up to my room.

She had a surprise all right. Laid out on the bed was one of Susan's old ankle length winceyette nightdresses. It was white, and decorated with small pink rosebuds. It had long sleeves, and the sleeves and neck were trimmed with white lace. I swung around and said 'Oh Mum! No! Surely I don't have to be a girl at night as well do I?' Mum gave a slight smile of amusement and said 'Sorry Tommy, but that's part of it. You are to be dressed as a girl 24 hours a day until the end of term. And that's final, so I want no more arguments.'

A sense of foreboding came over me, and I suddenly went over to the wardrobe, flung open the door and looked inside. All my clothes were gone. In their place were several items of girl's schoolwear, and some particularly childish looking dresses that I recognised had belonged to Susan when she was younger. 'Yes that's right' came a sarcastic voice from behind me, 'They used to be mine, and now you're going to wear them. I chose them pretty carefully, I can tell you.' I swung round to see the gloating figure of my sister standing in the open doorway. She was enjoying every moment. Without a word I dashed across to my chest of drawers and opened each draw quickly in turn, panicking as I went. All my clothes had gone. In their place were Susan's old clothes. Knickers, vests, socks and all the paraphernalia you would expect to find in a little girl's bedroom. Even my shoes had been removed and replaced with Susan's. Black Mary Janes, T-bar sandals in white, blue and red leather. Even a pair of pink bedroom slippers. I was devastated, and slumped down onto my bed, almost in tears. I felt utterly defeated as Susan's laughter echoed in my ears.

But after a moment Mum restored order. 'All right Susan, that's enough' she said. 'Go downstairs, I want to have a word with you.' Susan grimaced and left the room. Mum took me gently by the shoulders and said 'Don't worry about her, I'll tell her to ease up on you. Now stand up and let's get you undressed.' She helped me out of my school uniform and hung it up in the wardrobe. Then she lifted the nightdress up over my head, put my arms and head into it, and pulled it down around me. 'There' she said, 'That wasn't so bad was it? After all, up until a hundred years ago, all the men wore nightshirts, and some still do.'

'Yes, but not with little pink rosebuds and frilly lace!' I retorted, fingering the sleeves with distaste.

'Oh don't be so silly' said Mum, removing my hair ribbons and brushing out my hair, 'Susan will be gone next week, and then no-one's going to tease you at home. I certainly won't, you know that. Now go and clean your teeth.' Slightly consoled, I padded along to the bathroom, and a few minutes later was tucked up in bed with Mum leaning over me. 'Night night Tommy' she said, 'Sweet dreams.' She kissed me, and went out of the room, switching off the light as she went. I lay awake for a while, and could hear Mum admonishing my sister. At least that was something. Not realising how tired I was, I was asleep in no time.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 4

Anyone for Netball?

 

My preparation for school soon became a routine that I had to accept, however humiliating it always felt, especially when Mum tied my hair ribbons. I prayed for Susan to grow bored with teasing me, if only to relieve me from her incessant jibes at breakfast time and after I reached home from school. Each morning, Miss Jones would collect me at 8.30 sharp, and see me home in the afternoon.

And so my second day of purgatory began. The walk to school was a repeat of the previous day, but keeping my mother's advice in mind, I was determined to endure the taunts of my colleagues with equanimity, in the hope that they would grow bored and leave me alone. Mind you, our Wednesday afternoon games session had an added humiliation in store.

The morning lessons went normally enough, with few of the children being able to throw teasing comments at me during lessons under pain of being punished themselves. Lunch breaks out of the classroom were a different matter however, and then it was open season as far as the others were concerned. The inventiveness of their humiliating brickbats seemed never ending.

As the lunch break came to an end, Miss Jones came up to me and asked me to accompany her. Slightly curious, I followed her to the gymnasium store room. As we went in my spirits sank as I saw a girl's netball uniform hanging up, and I immediately guessed it was for me. Miss Jones smiled as she took it down off its hanger and held it up. It was a royal blue tunic, much like the normal girl's winter gym tunic, except with a very short pleated skirt. The bodice came up to the neck, and the tunic had a back zip fastening. 'That's right Tommy' she smiled, 'We've found you a netball uniform, and it's just your size I think. Now let's get you changed.'

I reluctantly let her help me to remove my school uniform until all I was wearing was my pair of white ankle socks. I soon realised why she had even removed my vest and knickers as she helped me to step into the sports tunic. It was fitted with a gusset between the legs, and after I had stepped into it, she drew the tunic up my body, and put my arms through the sleeves. As she closed the zip behind me and fastened a hook and eye behind my neck, I felt totally enclosed in the strong serge material. The gusset and elasticated leg openings of the sewn in knickers enclosed my crutch firmly, and the bodice of the tunic felt restrictive. I knew that unless the zip was unfastened, there would be no way that I could take the tunic off.

'Good' said Miss Jones approvingly, 'That fits you very nicely, I thought it would. Now sit down and I'll see about your feet.' I sat down, and she took a pair of white gym shoes and slipped each one onto my feet before lacing them up securely. Like the tunic, they fitted me perfectly, so obviously she had checked on my shoe size beforehand. I stood up while she looked me over. 'Well you look just fine' she said, tidying my hair ribbons, 'Let's take you out to rejoin the other girls and teach you the mysteries of netball. You can leave your clothes here and change back later. Come along.' The term 'other girls' wasn't lost on me, and I realised that it was a term I would have to get used to. Taking me by the hand she opened the door, and led me outside.

While I had been changing, the girls had already begun playing netball on the playground netball court, but even so, their game ground to a hilarious halt as I appeared in my humiliating outfit. A ripple of laughter went up, and I was greeted by

a chorus of giggles. Miss Jones soon took a firm control of the situation however, and after giving me a rudimentary run down of the rules of the game, she put me in position and the game began.

Many boys think that netball is a sissy game. Don't you believe it. The girls took great pleasure in teaching me just how rough it can be, and by the time we had played a couple of games I was bruised, battered and exhausted. But at last it was time to finish, and it was with some relief that I returned to the gym with Miss Jones. She removed my netball uniform, and I had a quick shower before she dressed me in my school uniform. As she tied my hair ribbons back in place I said 'Miss Jones?'

'Yes?' she said.

'Netball can be pretty rough, can't it?'

'Oh yes' she smiled, 'You seem to have earned yourself a few bruises. Never mind, I'll ask the girls to ease up on you next time. Now come along, it's time to go home.' She put my netball uniform into a school bag to take home to be washed, and we were soon walking out of the school front gate and along the street. Unlike the day before, some of the other children were waiting to jeer me home, and I was glad for the company of Miss Jones. She left me at my front gate, and I went indoors.

Susan was in the kitchen with Mum, and she grinned as she said 'Oh hello little sister. I just heard the other kids call you Jennifer. What a sweet name for a little girl. Much more suitable than Tommy.' She chuckled as I blushed deeply, and Mum removed my school hat and hung it up in the hall. I removed my blazer and hung it on the back of a chair.

Mum soon had out tea prepared, and we sat down to eat. I had to describe the day's humiliating events, and Susan suddenly went to the bag with my netball tunic in it, and pulled it out. Holding it up she giggled and said 'Oh isn't it sweet! I'll bet you looked lovely in it.'

'All right, all right' said Mum, 'That's enough. Sit down and finish your tea.' Still chuckling, Susan left the tunic on my bag and sat down.

Tea over, we washed up and sat down for an evening's TV. I found it hard to enjoy the programmes under the constant derisive glances and giggles from Susan, and I eventually gave up. By eight o'clock I'd had enough, and decided to go to bed. Mum came upstairs to help me undress and remove my hair ribbons. In a short while I was comfortably lying in bed reading a book, and was almost unaware of the humiliating nightdress I was wearing. My eyes started to droop, and I switched off the light and settled down to sleep, wondering what surprises tomorrow would bring. Whatever they might be, one thing was certain. They were sure to be unpleasant.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 5

A Rainy Day

 

I woke up and looked at the window. The sky was dark grey, and it was pouring with rain. As I watched the rivulets of water running down the pane, I immediately thought of the humiliating little girl style mackintosh waiting for me downstairs. I knew that, knowing how much I hated wearing it, Susan would waste no time in reminding Mum that I wear it to school.

Mum got me out of bed promptly, and once I was properly dressed in my school uniform and my hair ribbons were firmly attached to my head, I went reluctantly downstairs. Knowing how much I was going to hate wearing the mackintosh, Susan chuckled as she looked at me and said 'Good morning Jennifer, it's raining isn't it? So we mustn't forget to make sure you wear your mac to school today, must we? We can't let those pretty ribbons get wet.' I blushed, but said nothing, and sat down miserably to breakfast. As I ate, I couldn't help but keep looking at the kitchen clock as 8.15 approached.

After breakfast I went upstairs to clean my teeth, and decided to wait in my room. I tried reading a comic, but couldn't concentrate as 8.15 approached. Sure enough, the front door bell rang on time, and I heard the voice of Miss Jones. A moment later my Mother called up the stairs 'Come along Tommy, time to go, don't keep miss Jones waiting.' With a sigh of resignation I threw down my comic and went downstairs.

I walked into the lounge where they were waiting, and wasn't surprised to see that Susan hadn't wasted any time. In her hands she held the red rubberised satinette mackintosh, and as I came into the room she grinned and said 'Here you are little girl, don't forget your raincoat. It's raining cats and dogs outside!' Trying to ignore her, I inwardly groaned as Mum took the mac from her and held it out for me to put on. Not being in a position to argue, I put my arms into the sleeves behind me, and coming round to my front, Mum pulled the mackintosh up onto my shoulders. She buttoned the front closed up to my neck, and then fastened the belt round my waist.

Immediately noticing that it was slightly big for me, Susan grinned and said 'Goodness me, what a sweet little primary school girl! Now, just one more touch I think.' She giggled as she stepped forward and pulled the hood up over my head before securing the button fastening under my chin. Tugging the hood well forward, she stepped back to inspect me and laughed. 'Oh yes. Now he really does look like my little sister Jennifer!' I blushed deeply as I peered out demurely from under the hood, and even Mum and Miss Jones couldn't resist a grin.

Looking at her watch Miss Jones said 'Well we must be off. Come along Tommy.' Mum handed me my school bag and we went to the front door. In the hall, Susan put on her navy blue school gaberdine raincoat, and put up her hood before tying the tie tapes in a bow under her chin. I thought how unfair it was that she could wear a girl's raincoat without anyone laughing at her. She picked up her school bag, and Mum opened the door. Miss Jones turned up the collar of her beige raincoat and put up her clear plastic umbrella. We stepped out into the rain, and while Susan headed off down to the bus stop, Miss Jones and I set off to school.

The heavy rain drummed onto my hood and mackintosh, and ran down my bare legs and onto my ankle socks and school shoes. As the mackintosh became soaking wet it began to slap against my bare legs with a shlok shlok noise. But in a way I was glad to be wearing it, as with the hood covering my head, few people would have guessed that I wasn't a girl. Except my classmates of course. Needless to say, as we approached the school, several girls appeared wearing their regulation royal blue gaberdine hooded raincoats in a style much like my sister's, and soon spotted me. They came across the road to join us, and laughed as they saw how humiliated I looked as I peered out from under my hood like one of the eight year old girls.

'Oh doesn't she look sweet!' squealed one, 'Just like on that day last term. Miss Jones, can he keep it on all day?'

'No' smiled Miss Jones, 'We can't have him sitting in a wet mackintosh all day, he'll catch cold. But perhaps' she smiled, 'If he misbehaves, we might make him keep it on when it's a sunny day. That would be even more uncomfortable wouldn't it?'

'Oh yes' laughed one of the other girls. 'We'll keep our eye on him, and if we catch him being naughty again, we'll tell you.'

'We'll see' said Miss Jones.

We finally arrived at school, and went in through the front gate. I was glad in some ways to divest myself of the humiliating mackintosh and hang it up on my clothes hook in the cloakroom, but the drawback was being fully exposed in my little girl school uniform. A giggling group of girls accompanied me into class, but their teasing was mercifully cut short by the commencement of the lesson.

The morning passed fairly uneventfully, and because it was raining, the children were allowed to eat their lunch in their classrooms or play in the gym. I sat at my desk and quietly ate my lunch while I tried to ignore the taunts of the other boys and girls, just as my Mum had advised. But in the afternoon, our art class was yet another little bit of purgatory for me. Miss Jones handed out a sheet of drawing paper and a pencil to each child, and then announced that we were to try our hand at drawing a human figure. Then she asked for a volunteer to be the model. Needless to say, no one volunteered, and it was obvious that the prospect of sitting still for an hour under the gaze of 30 budding artists was something that nobody relished.

My heart sank as the recognisable voice of Fiona McPherson broke the silence. 'Please Miss, can we draw Tommy?'

'Oh yes Miss, please, please!' went a chorus of voices. I could have guessed what the answer would be. Miss Jones was only too well aware that the whole reason for me to be dressed as a girl was as a humiliating punishment, and she was obviously determined to carry out the headmistress' instructions fully in the spirit in which they were given.

'Well' she smiled, 'Since no one's volunteered, I suppose I'll have to pick our model.' She picked up a chair and put it down directly in front of the class, and then said 'Come along Tommy, sit down here.' A giggle came from Fiona, and giving her a malevolent glare I reluctantly got up from my desk, walked across to the chair, and sat down facing the class. 'Now then' said Miss Jones, 'I want you to sit in a comfortable pose, so that you don't have to keep moving.' She sat me up straight, with my feet together and my hands gently clasped together in my lap. 'There,' she said, 'That should be fine. All right everyone, start drawing, and don't forget what I told you. Start sketching very roughly at first, getting the proportions right, and then fill in the details later.'

I sat there self consciously under the concentrated stares and occasional grins of my classmates for the next hour. Miss Jones walked round the class giving advice and help, and I began to be curious to see how good or bad these drawings of me were going to be. I couldn't see a clock, so time seemed to drag on interminably. But at long last, Miss Jones said 'OK everyone, that's it. I want you to leave your drawings with me, and you can finish them off next week. Perhaps some of you might like to paint your sketches. And don't forget to put your name on the back.'

A moment later the bell went, and the children brought their sketches up to Miss Jones' desk before filing out to go home. I stood up and stayed close to Miss Jones, afraid to go out without her protection.

When everyone had gone, she started to look through the sketches with me. She grinned as she saw my expression of distaste at seeing my humiliating situation immortalised, however crudely. Most of them were thankfully unrecognisable as me, but we had a disconcertingly high number of good artists in the class, and about ten of them left no doubt as to whom the subject was. The idea of seeing them painted and then put on display was something I shuddered to think about.

Shaking me out of this potential nightmare, Miss Jones put the sketches in a large draw and said 'All right Tommy, let's get home.' She accompanied me to the cloakroom, and handed me my red mackintosh. 'There you are Tommy' she said, 'I think it's time you started putting it on for yourself.' She was right of course, and after a moment's hesitation I put it on, buttoned it up (with slight fumbling as it buttoned up on the girl's side), and fastened the belt. Then we went to the staff room, where Miss Jones put on her raincoat.

We walked to the main door, and saw that it was raining again. Turning to me with a smile, she raised the hood of my mackintosh and fastened it under my chin. Pulling the hood well forward, she looked at me for a moment, smiled, and said 'It's true you know Tommy, with your mackintosh hood up you really do look like a little girl.' With a grin, she put up her umbrella and we set off homewards. Fortunately the other children were no longer around, as the rain had made them want to get home as soon as possible.

As we trudged through the downpour, she said 'Well Tommy, one more day and you'll have completed the first week of your punishment. How do you feel about that?' I thought for a moment, not quite sure what to say. 'I don't know really' I replied. 'It's horrible at the moment. But I think I might get used to it after a while. Mum says that if I pretend I don't care the others will get bored and stop teasing me.'

'Your Mum is quite right' she said. 'That goes for any kind of teasing. If you can keep you cool, I would think they'll just about give up after another two or three weeks.'

'I hope so' I said, but I've still got the rest of term to put up with. And I've got the weekend to come yet. Mum's going to take me into town, and I know that my sister can't wait to see me dressed in one of her old dresses. She's really enjoying this.'

'Well I'm not surprised' chuckled Miss Jones, 'Most older sisters would love to have an opportunity like this to get their revenge on their younger brothers for all the trouble they've given them in the past. I'm afraid that the teasing from her won't lessen as time passes, so you'll just have to put up with it.'

We reached home, and after handing me over to Mum, Miss Jones continued on her way home. Mum removed my wet mackintosh and hung it up on a coat hanger to dry. Then we went into the kitchen and sat down with a cup of tea while I related the day's events. It was strange, but imperceptibly I was becoming less self-conscious in being dressed as a girl, especially as Mum didn't really tease me much. Unfortunately, Susan more than made up for that. After half an hour or so, I heard the front door open and close, and a moment later a soaking wet figure in her navy blue gaberdine school raincoat walked into the kitchen.

'It's pouring!' said Susan, unfastening her hood and throwing it back. That was obvious, as she unfastened the belt and unbuttoned her raincoat. She took it off and shook it. Water sprayed everywhere, and Mum said 'Oh for goodness' sake Susan, do that out in the hall!' Susan grinned and took her wet coat out into the hall to hang it up. Then she came back into the kitchen and sat at the table while Mum poured her a cup of tea. Then she turned her attention to me. Chuckling, she said 'And what sort of day did little Jennifer have at school? More sewing?'

'No!' I retorted. 'As a matter of fact, everybody drew me, in art class. I was a model.' Susan smiled and said 'Really? Dressed like that? Oh I do hope some of them are a good likeness. If any of them are good enough I'll try and get photocopies. Fiona McPherson's older sister Jane is in my class at school, so I'm sure it can be arranged.' What a ghastly thought. Susan armed with paintings of me dressed as a girl. That would have humiliation potential I didn't care to think about. I tried not to show my concern, stood up, and went up to my room to get away from her. A little later, dinner was ready, and at least Susan wasn't quite so forthcoming with her teasing. I think Mum had told her to lay off a bit.

Dinner over, we went into the lounge and watched a video that Susan had borrowed. Unfortunately it was 'Pollyanna', and after several comments from my sister in which said that at the weekend I would be dressed far more prettily than any of the girls in the film, I gave up and went upstairs to my room. I read some comics for a while, but feeling sleepy, I removed my school uniform, hung it up neatly in the wardrobe, and put myself to bed. A little later, Mum came in to say goodnight, and looking in the wardrobe, smiled with approval as she saw my school uniform hanging up neatly.

'Very good Tommy' she said. 'I think that by next week you'll be able to dress yourself. Except for your hair ribbons. I'll do those, at least for the time being.' She kissed me goodnight, switched off the light, and I snuggled down into a dreamless sleep with a faint 'Goodnight Jennifer' and a giggle coming from Susan's room. I didn't deign to reply.

 

 

CHAPTER 6

Hair Ribbons

 

Friday morning. The last day of the school week. My morning washing and dressing ritual was becoming familiar, and I was soon dressed and having my hair ribbons tied by Mum. Then downstairs to breakfast served up with a generous helping of teasing from my sister.

Miss Jones arrived on time at 8.15, and we walked to school on a clear sunny morning. I was becoming inured to my humiliating arrival at school, and even the constant sniggering from my classmates during class times. But I wasn't quite immune to some of their teasing, especially from the girls, who seemed to have a talent for dreaming up new little torments, as I found out at lunchtime.

I was sitting in the playground finishing my sandwiches, surrounded by the usual little cluster of teasing girls. Fiona suddenly stood over me, and before I realised what she was doing, she quickly pulled open both of my bows of hair ribbon. My hands shot up but it was too late, and the half untied ribbons hung down over my face. The girls shrieked with laughter, and Fiona said with mock concern 'Oh dear Jennifer, your bows have come undone. You can't walk around looking like that. You'd better tie them up again before Miss Jones sees you or you'll be in trouble, won't you?' She gave me an evil grin as I attempted to retie my ribbons. It was hopeless.

'Now what are you going to do' she laughed, 'Without your mummy to do them for you?'

'I don't know!' I said, 'I can't do it! Help me, please.' Fiona had planned this little humiliation well. 'Come along then' she said, 'Let's find a mirror and we'll teach you how to tie your own hair ribbons.'

I stood up, and the girls led me to the cloakroom, where they sat me down in front of a mirror. 'Right' said Fiona, 'Let's start from scratch.' Before I could stop her she had pulled off my ribbons and elastic bands, removed my two pink plastic hair slides, and tousled my hair. She handed me a comb and said 'Start by combing your hair into a centre parting.' I did so, and so my lesson began. Accompanied by giggle after giggle, I laboriously learnt to arrange my hair neatly with the two bows of white hair ribbon held in place with the hair slides. Time after time the girls made me do it until Fiona was finally satisfied. 'There we are' she said, 'Now you won't need your mummy to do it, and you can keep your bows nice and tidy yourself.' The afternoon bell rang, and we returned to class.

Friday afternoon passed fairly normally, and my classmates were clearly looking forward to the weekend. I felt rather differently about it of course. I couldn't help thinking how much my sister Susan was going to relish transforming me into a really cute little girl the next day. But the bell finally rang, and there was a general stampede for the door. I remained behind while Miss Jones tidied up her desk. We then went to the cloakroom where she carefully placed my school hat on my head, and we set off homewards.

Once again I was relieved to find that there was no army of tormentors waiting outside the school gate, but even so, I attracted a number of grins and chuckles from passers by, especially the kids from other schools. I was glad to reach home, and Miss Jones came in to speak to Mum. We sat down in the lounge, and Mum made us a cup of tea. 'Well' she said, 'How's his first week gone?'

'Very well actually' said Miss Jones, 'Tommy's come through it remarkably, considering the situation. He's wisely decided to try and ignore the teasing of the other children, and I think that the novelty will soon begin to pall.'

'Good' said Mum, 'That was what I advised him to do. Children soon tire of picking on someone as soon as they find they are not getting any reaction.'

'Very true' smiled Miss Jones, 'However, that still doesn't detract from our agreement as far as Tommy's attire for the whole of the term is concerned. Do you have something suitable for him to wear over the week end?'

'Oh yes. His sister Susan's seen to that. She's taken great delight in assembling his wardrobe, and it certainly won't be to his liking. I still fully concur with this method of punishment, and we'll certainly be taking him into town when we go shopping tomorrow. He won't be allowed to skulk around at home out of sight as that wouldn't be the point, would it?'

'Absolutely not' said Miss Jones. Looking at her watch she said 'Well I must be going. What time will you be going out tomorrow?'

'About ten.'

'I'd like to have a look at him before you go into town. Could you call in on your way?'

'Yes of course' said Mum, I'm sure he'll look even prettier and demure than during the week, Susan will see to that!' I groaned at the prospect, as I knew she was right.

Miss Jones left, and almost immediately afterwards my sister arrived home from school. Throwing her school hat on the sofa and dropping her school bag on the floor with a thump, she flopped down onto the sofa. 'Phew' she said, 'What a day!' She sat quietly for a moment, and then looked at my seated figure. A wicked grin crossed her face. 'And how's my little sister today? I've been talking to someone about you today. Fiona McPherson's older sister Jane. She and the other girls have been dying to have a look at you, so we're going to arrange it. Won't that be nice!'

'No it won't!' I exclaimed, 'That's a horrible idea! Why are you being so rotten to me? You know how much I hate being dressed as a girl!'

'Can't you guess?' said my sister scathingly, 'You seem to have a very short memory, no wonder you're always in trouble. Well I'll tell you why I'm treating you like this. For years you've been a total pain in the ass. You've played I don't know how many stupid tricks on me in the past, remember? Such as the time you put itching powder in my bed. Or the dead mouse in my pocket. Or the plastic dog poo in my lunch box. And last but not least, when you told my friends a few weeks ago that I was a bed wetter. It took me ages to convince them otherwise. Well, the next time you meet my friends it will be your turn to feel humiliated, believe me. No my dear little brother, I've been looking for my revenge for ages, and now I've been handed this chance on a plate. You are now going to pay dearly for all the lousy things you've done to me, starting with tomorrow.'

'In the morning I'm going to turn you into the sweetest little girl in the village, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. I can't wait to see my younger sister Jennifer going shopping in one the prettiest little dresses that I used to wear. Yes' she chuckled, 'You're going to be so pretty!' I leapt to my feet and glared at her, almost in tears. Grinning, Susan added 'Oh yes, and by the way, Diana Cooper from school told me that her little sister Emily is having a tea party on Sunday. I said that you'd love to go, so you're invited. Dressed as a six year old little girl of course. Won't that be lovely! Jane McPherson says she's got the most perfect outfit for you, complete with accessories (whatever that means), so I'm going to take you over there tomorrow to make sure it will fit you. That will be fun, won't it!'

I couldn't say anything. Tears ran down my face at the prospect of something so humiliating, and I rushed out into the kitchen with Susan in hot pursuit. Mum was preparing the dinner, and when she saw me a frown came over her face and she said 'Tommy, what's the matter?'

'She's the matter!' I sobbed, 'She wants to do some horrible things to me!' Mum took out her handkerchief and wiped my eyes as Susan explained her point of view. Mum looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said to me, 'Well Tommy, I must say that I wasn't aware of just how nasty you've been to Susan. She's been very tolerant of you, and didn't tell me what you've been up to.'

'Under the circumstances, I see no reason why you shouldn't be made aware of how badly you've treated your sister, and if she wants to use your present situation to punish you, she has my support. No, I think the idea of you going to the little girl's tea party is exquisitely appropriate, so you're going. Now let's have no more arguments, and you can both lay the table.' I knew when Mum's word was final, so that was that. Susan gave me a triumphant grin as we laid the table, and I tried to put the prospect of the party out of my mind. Tomorrow was going to be quite enough to worry about.

Mum was always a good cook, and tonight was no exception. After a filling spaghetti Bolognese followed by peaches and ice cream, we washed up, and I then went out into the garden to sit and watch the sun set. I then went into the lounge to join the others. I watched TV in a desultory fashion, as I couldn't put the prospect of tomorrow out of my mind. That wasn't helped by the frequent glances and grins from my sister.

As on previous evenings, I decided to beat a retreat and go to bed. I had by now learnt to dress and undress when wearing my school uniform, and hung it up in my wardrobe. I gave a quiet sigh of despair as I saw the little girl style dresses hanging there as if lying in wait for me. I put on my nightie and was soon tucked up in bed. Mum came up to say goodnight, and in no time I was in the land of Nod.

 

 

CHAPTER 7

The Shopping Trip

 

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. The sun streamed into my room as Mum opened the curtains. Turning to me she said 'Up you get lazybones, off to the bathroom, and make sure you have a shower, I want you squeaky clean today. Susan and I will get your things ready.'

I reluctantly climbed out of bed, and Susan went into my room as I padded my way down to the bathroom. By the time I'd had my shower and returned to my room, everything was ready for me. As I entered the room I gulped as I saw what I was to wear. Susan and I had seen each other naked from birth, so I wasn't embarrassed when Mum removed my towel, leaving me naked. I was far too preoccupied by the clothes laid out for me.

'Right' said Mum, 'Let's begin with your undies.' Realising that protest or resistance would be pointless, I tried to maintain a dignified silence. Mum picked up a pair of girl's pale yellow silk knickers and held them down in front of me. 'In you get' she said. I stepped gingerly into them, and she quickly pulled them up my legs and around my waist. Then she took a white vest, put it over my head, pulled my arms through, and tucked it into the waistband of my knickers. Definitely the undies of a little girl.

'Now sit down and I'll put your shoes and socks on' said Mum. She took a pair of white satinette ankle socks and pulled them onto my feet, turning them down neatly. Susan grinned as she handed Mum a pair of white leather T bar strap shoes that I recognised she had worn when she was little. It was now that I began to regret the fact that Susan had always been big for her age, while I was small. Consequently, a pair of shoes that she had worn when she was a little girl of eight fitted me quite comfortably. Mum buckled up the straps securely at the sides of my feet. They were obviously designed to be worn by fidgety children, and gripped my feet firmly. There was obviously no way that I would be able to kick them off.

Now came the most humiliating part. Reaching into the wardrobe, Susan took out one of the dresses and removed it from its hanger. She held it up against her front for me to examine and put her head on one side. 'Here you are Jennifer' she chuckled 'Won't you look lovely in this. It used to be one of my favourites. Remember?' I almost recoiled in horror. Years before, when Susan had worn it, I hadn't really thought about the dress, but now that I was about to wear it I couldn't think of anything else.

With Susan grinning at me with a look of triumph on her face, I realised that if anything could be calculated to humiliate me, this was it. I could clearly remember her wearing the dress years before, and had a vague recollection of how cute she looked. The dress was primrose yellow with little flowers printed on it. But by now, Susan had added smocking across the front to heighten the babyish effect. It still retained all the features of a typical little girl's dress, with a peter pan collar, short puffed sleeves, a row of small pearl buttons down the back, and a sash belt which tied in a bow at the back.

I stared at it for a moment and said 'Oh no, please. Not this, you wouldn't, you couldn't. Please, I'll wear anything else, but not a little baby dress like that.'

'Oh no dear brother' smiled Susan, 'I think this is exactly what we need to humiliate you. Look at it, it's perfect.' Mum smiled with her. 'Absolutely perfect' she said, taking the dress from Susan and holding it up, 'Let's try it on, shall we? Come along Tommy, put your arms up.' I reluctantly raised my arms, and she put them through the sleeves. Then she put my head in and pulled the dress down over me. With long practice acquired with Susan, she fastened the buttons up my back, secured a hook and eye behind my neck, and finished off the effect by tying the belt behind me in a neat bow. The hem hung down to just below my knees. 'Oh yes' said Susan with an approving smile, 'Quite delightful, and it's a perfect fit. You're going to look just lovely, aren't you little sister?' I couldn't think of a suitable reply.

With a wide grin on her face, Jane went across to the chest of draws. On it stood a wig on a stand. It was light brown and in a simple page boy style with a fringe at the front, typical of the style worn by many little girls. She removed it from its stand and handed it to Mum. Then she opened a draw in the bedside table and took out some pale yellow hair ribbon, some elastic bands, and two yellow plastic hair slides. 'Now this I am going to enjoy' she smiled, 'Let's see how you look with nice pretty bows in your hair.'

Sitting me down in the chair again, Mum held the wig and started brushing it firmly. 'Now Tommy' she said, 'Sit up and keep your head straight.' I did as I was told, and she pulled the wig onto my head and brushed it neatly into position. Standing back, she was obviously pleased with my appearance, while my sister nodded her approval. Susan giggled, and then said 'The hair ribbons now. I want his hair tied in two bunches with nice pretty bows. Can I do it?'

'Not this time' said Mum, 'Perhaps later. I'll do it now because I want it to look really neat. Give me the hair bands, will you?' Susan gave them to her, and she started to style the wig into two bunches. With the experience of having done Susan's hair when she was little, she deftly wound the elastic hair bands around the base of each bunch of hair so that they stood up in an infantile fashion. 'Now the ribbons' said Mum. Picking one up, she wound it tightly several times around the base of one of the bunches, and finished it off in a neat non-slip bow. Then she took the other ribbon and did the same to the other bunch before carefully adjusting the size of the bows and the length of the ribbons so that they matched perfectly. Finally, she fastened the two plastic hair slides tightly in place, one on either side of my head. They were in the form of small pink bows, and were obviously designed to look particularly dainty.

'There we are' she said, 'Very nice. Now stand up and let's have a look at you.' I did as I was told, and Susan burst out laughing. 'How delightful' she said, 'What an absolutely adorable little girl! What do you think Mum?'

'Oh I think she looks just perfect' laughed Mum, 'Pretty as a picture, as you used to when you were little.'

Susan took me by the hand and stood me in front of a full-length mirror. 'So, Jennifer' she sniggered, 'How do you like your new appearance? Pretty enough for you?' I was horrified at my transformation. There in front of me stood a sweet little girl wearing a very cute primrose yellow dress which made me look even younger than I had in my girl's school uniform. It was set off perfectly by the white ankle socks and juvenile strap shoes, and the crowning humiliation was my pageboy hairstyle with the two large bows of hair ribbon and the hair slides on either side of my head. I groaned with despair.

'Well' said Mum brightly, 'That should do nicely I think. Let's go down and have some breakfast. Come along, girls.' The joke wasn't wasted on me, and I had a horrible suspicion that Mum was beginning to find my situation amusing. It didn't bode well.

We went down to the kitchen, and sat down to a breakfast well flavoured with numerous teasing comments from Susan, who was obviously looking forward to the day with relish. Breakfast over, I wanted to be on my own for a bit, so I went out into the garden and sat down in the shade. It was a beautiful morning, marred only by our forthcoming shopping trip into town. I was dreading it. Time always seems to pass too quickly when you don't want it too, and I was soon shaken out of my quiet reverie by Susan leaning out of the window. She beckoned with her finger, and grinned as she said 'Come along Jennifer, time to go.' I stood up and reluctantly walked back into the house. The others were ready, and we went into the hall. Susan smiled as she fingered my red rubberised mackintosh hanging on a hook. 'What a pity it's not raining' she said, I want to see you walking down the street in it. Never mind, we don't want to cover up your pretty frock do we? I want everyone to see my sweet little sister.' I blushed and said nothing.

Mum opened the door, and I stepped out into the sunshine with Susan. Mum shut the door behind us, and we set off for Miss Jones' house. It was only just around the corner, and in a couple of minutes we were standing at her front door. Mum rang the bell, and a moment later Miss Jones opened the door and invited us in. 'Come on through to the garden' she said, 'It's such a lovely day, isn't it?' We walked through the house into her garden, and stood on her well manicured lawn amidst the scent of the roses.

Miss Jones looked at me and smiled. 'Well my goodness, who have we here? Is that really Tommy Anderson in that pretty dress? I must say he looks amazing. D'you know, if I saw him walking down the street I'd never even think that I wasn't looking at a little girl. Honestly, he looks really sweet!'

'I'm so glad you think so' said Mum, 'Although I think that Susan should take much of the credit for his appearance. She chose his outfit carefully, and I think she's caught the very essence of what a little girl should look like.'

'Absolutely' said Miss Jones. 'Mind you, I'm not so sure Miss Winthrop would approve of the wig. He looks so convincing that I doubt he'll catch anyone's attention, and that's not quite what she had in mind. Ridicule is the essence of his punishment.'

'Yes that's true, but don't forget, he knows that he's a boy dressed as a girl, and surely that's what really counts. Besides, I don't think we should expose him to all those cruel taunts and teasing for seven days a week. Let's regard this as a short weekend respite. I'm sure it must be mortifying enough for him going into town dressed like this anyway.'

Miss Jones grinned. 'That's a good point. All right, we'll let him wear the wig as a disguise at weekends, but I'll still have to inform Miss Winthrop. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll agree. Well, I've seen him, and I'm well satisfied with his appearance. I must say Susan, you certainly picked something that any boy would find devastatingly humiliating to wear, and what with the hair ribbons and the shoes and socks, I don't think I could have done better myself!' They all laughed, and then Mum said 'Well we must be off, we don't want to miss the bus.' Miss Jones showed us to the door, and as walked down the path she called out 'Bye bye Jennifer, see you on Monday morning.' As if I needed reminding.

We walked down to the bus stop, and I felt exposed, standing out in the open like this. But the bus soon came along and we climbed aboard. Mum paid for our tickets, and I sat between the two of them, feeling small and vulnerable. At first I felt that everyone on the bus was staring at me and laughing, but it was only my imagination. In a short time I realised that in fact, I was being totally ignored, and I felt slightly better but still very self conscious.

The bus into town took about twenty minutes, and we got off at the bus station. It was only a short walk to the shopping precinct, and I concentrated on watching how the girls were walking. Miss Jones had complimented me on my walk a few days before, and I was determined to perfect it to reduce the chances of being recognised as a boy. But no matter how well disguised you may be, you can't fool people who already know and recognise you.

We had joined the crowds in the shopping precinct, and just as I was beginning to gain a little confidence, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Susan called out 'Jane! Hi!' My heart sank as I recognised Jane McPherson with her mother, and worst of all my classmate Fiona, the one person I'd hoped to avoid. They came over to us, and as soon as Fiona saw me she let out a shriek of laughter. 'Well if it isn't sweet little Jennifer out of school uniform. Don't you look gorgeous! I can't believe it, you look even more cute than you do at school. And I just love the dress, it's so babyish. I haven't worn a dress like that since I was about six!'

'This is brilliant' laughed Jane, 'I've got to hand it to you Sue, you've really done a good job. He must be absolutely squirming!'

'Well that is the general idea' said Susan with a grin, 'I somehow don't think he'll ever live this lot down.'

Mrs. McPherson looked me up and down and said 'Well I must say, when Fiona told me about it I couldn't help smiling, but now that I've seen him, I'm amazed at the transformation. Frankly I thought he really was a girl until Fiona told me.'

'Yes' said Mum, 'He does look convincing, doesn't he? But when he's wearing his girl's school uniform during the week he's not allowed to wear a wig, so everyone can see that he's really a boy by his short hair. Mind you, we still tie ribbons in his hair for effect.'

'How humiliating for him' grinned Mrs. McPherson. 'Normally he would have my sympathy; it's probably the most awful experience any boy could imagine. Still, in view of his continued misdemeanours, I think its justified. It should certainly cure him, and I imagine that all the other boys in the school are doing something about their own behaviour with the threat of similar treatment hanging over their heads.'

'Exactly' said Mum, 'Tommy's case is something of an experiment, and it's early days yet, but I have a feeling that it's going to succeed where all else has failed. I don't know if it's just the way he's dressed, but his whole demeanour seems to be becoming gentler. Anyway, we'll see.'

'How about a cup of tea?' said Mrs. McPherson. 'Oh that's a good idea' said Mum, 'I'd like to discuss this with you a bit further. I know just the place.' We set off, and in a few minutes we reached a rather old-fashioned tearoom. We went in, and sat at a table in the corner. I was made to sit conspicuously facing into the room in between Susan and Jane, while Fiona sat opposite me with her head on her hands, grinning continuously. Susan leaned across behind me, and started whispering and giggling with Jane. They seemed to be hatching something, but I couldn't hear what. At first glance we made a typically pleasant sight. Two mothers with four girls, one of which was very properly and demurely dressed. The illusion was shattered when Susan suddenly reached up and pulled off my wig, revealing me as a boy to all and sundry. I automatically put my hands to my head in a futile attempt to hide my hair, but that was of course pointless. I gave a shout of anguish and cried 'You bitch! You rotten lousy bitch!'

Mum was furious, both at Susan's behaviour and my language. 'That's enough you two, stop being so childish the pair of you. Susan, give me the wig.' Susan handed it to her, and Mum stood up and rearranged the wig tidily on my head before sitting down again. But the damage had been done. Now everyone in the room would know that the sweet, demure looking little girl in the corner was really a boy. I felt devastated and glared at Susan. She simply grinned defiantly back at me, well pleased with herself. Fiona had a fit of the giggles, and Jane just smiled with delight. Girls sometimes have a talent for mental cruelty, especially when it comes to taunting boys who are helpless to stop them.

The majority of the customers were middle aged ladies, and as they stared at our little drama and commented to their companions, I was acutely aware that I was becoming the main topic of conversation. An elderly lady sitting at the adjoining table turned to Mum, and said 'Please excuse me for asking, but why is the boy dressed as a girl?' Mum was getting used to this, so she gave the lady a short explanation. When she had finished, the woman said 'Well, I must say that's a wonderful way of punishing him. I used to be a primary school teacher, and I found that humiliation is far preferable to the cane for naughty boys. On a number of occasions I punished boys (with the consent of their parents) by making them come to school for an appropriate period of time dressed in the girl's uniform. In summer, a blue and white gingham dress, and in winter, a blouse and gym tunic. I can honestly say that I've never had to apply this punishment to any boy more than once!' A murmur of approval rose from the other women, and they returned to their conversations.

We sat there for about half an hour, and then got up to leave. Mum and Mrs. McPherson paid the bill, and as we left, the older lady smiled at me and said 'Bye bye little girl!' I blushed to the roots, but we were soon outside.

It was now time to begin shopping, so we said goodbye to the McPhersons, and as went from shop to shop, I gained more and more confidence in my appearance. But I was now constantly aware of how much the delusion depended on my wig, and I was fearful that my sister had the power to expose me at any time. But at least on this occasion I had nothing to fear, particularly after Mum's scolding earlier on. Susan suddenly noticed how I was attempting to imitate her walk, and chuckled as she realised what I was trying to do.

After buying everything we needed, we headed for the bus station and home, and were soon walking up the road towards our house under a darkening cloudy sky. As we approached the front door, Susan said 'Mum, can I take Jennifer round to Jane's after lunch?' I didn't fancy the prospect at all, and said 'Oh no Mum, please. I want to stay home.' Mum opened the front door and said 'Well I don't know Tommy. We all know that you are supposed to spend as much time outside the house as possible, so that people can see you. Miss Winthrop doesn't want you hiding in the house. No, you can go over to Jane's with Susan, you must get used to it.' Mum's word was always final, and my heart sank at the prospect.

We had lunch, and as we were finishing, it began to rain quite heavily. I looked out of the window hopefully and said 'Oh look, it's pouring. We don't want to go round to Fiona and Jane's in that do we? Let's stay home.' Some hope. 'Oh don't worry about the rain little sister' grinned Susan, 'You've got a lovely waterproof mackintosh that I've just been longing to see you wear.' I knew when I was beaten, and taking me by the hand, Susan dragged me out into the hallway. She took down her own raincoat first. It was a smartly styled royal blue PVC coat with a buckle belt and an attached hood. She put it on, closed the press studs up the front, and fastened the belt around her waist.

'Now little Jennifer' she said, taking down my red rubberised mackintosh, 'Let's get you ready. In you get.' She held the mac out for me, and I sighed as I put my arms into the sleeves. Knowing how humiliated I felt at having to wear it, particularly with the way I was dressed, she slowly fastened the buttons with relish. Then she fastened the belt, and secured it with the button fastening in the end. With a broad smile on her face, she put up the hood and fastened the button under my chin. Stepping back to look at me she grinned and said 'Oh yes. No wonder you don't like wearing it. It really does make you look like a little girl. It must be the hood framing your face, it just makes you look so cute!'

Just as she was pricking me with these verbal barbs, Mum came out of the kitchen. 'All ready then?' she said, 'What time will you be back?'

'Well we've been invited to tea' said Susan, 'So we'll be back about seven probably.'

'Well don't make it any later.'

'OK Mum, we'll be back by then I promise. Come on Jennifer, let's go for a walk in the rain.' Susan opened the door and put up her hood. She fastened the press studs, tied the drawstring in a bow under her chin, and we stepped out into the pouring rain. The breeze blew the driving rain hard against my mackintosh, and I must admit that I was almost glad to be wearing it, even though the rain poured down it onto my bare legs and soaked my feet in their short ankle socks and sandals.We trudged on through the rain for twenty minutes until we reached Fiona and Jane's house. Susan rang the doorbell, and Mrs. McPherson opened the door with Fiona and Jane standing behind her. 'My goodness' she said, 'You look like two drowned rats. Come on in and get those wet macs off.' As we went in she looked at me and couldn't help grinning. 'Well I see what Fiona meant when she said you had to wear her old mackintosh as a punishment. You really do look like her when she was about eight. Never mind dear, let's get you out of it.' She unbuttoned my hood and threw it back off my head. Then she unfastened the mackintosh and removed it. Susan discarded her raincoat, and Mrs. McPherson put both coats onto hangers before we went through into the lounge.

'I'll just go and hang these up to dry in the bathroom' said Mrs. McPherson, and took our coats upstairs. I sat self consciously in an armchair as the three girls sat down and all looked at me, grinning, without a word. Jane broke the silence. 'Well' she said, 'I think we all know why we wanted Jennifer to be here this afternoon. We want to make sure she'll be properly dressed for little Emily Cooper's tea party tomorrow, don't we?'

'We sure do!' exclaimed Fiona enthusiastically, 'Let's dress him up now!'

'Not so fast' said Jane. 'I think that it would be better to spring it on him tomorrow, when we get him ready. He'll get the surprise of his life. I know his size, and I've measured the outfit. It'll fit him perfectly.' Fiona gave a small moan of disappointment, but then, looking at me she giggled and said 'Mmmm. Yes, maybe your right, but I can hardly wait to see his face!'

'Neither can we' chuckled Susan, 'But it'll be worth waiting another 24 hours, won't it?' A general chorus of assent went up, and my curiosity was suddenly piqued. Just how horrific to wear was this outfit going to be? Well, nothing could be more humiliating than what I was wearing now. How wrong I was.

Mrs. McPherson came into the room and sat on the sofa next to Fiona. She looked at me and smiled. 'Well I must say Tommy, I'll bet you never thought you'd ever be sitting here like this, dressed like that, did you?'

'No' I said miserably, 'It's awful. And to think that girls have to dress like this all the time. Yuck!'

'Ah yes, but girls enjoy being dressed in pretty and feminine clothes, that's part of their nature. You are trapped because you have this silly idea that girls are somehow inferior to boys, and so you feel humiliated by being dressed as one. Well it serves you right. I imagine that by the end of term, you will have a much better idea of what it's like to be a girl, which should make you much more able to understand them. It will also lower your male arrogance, which is no bad thing. There's nothing like humility to keep young boys in line, and this idea is exquisitely appropriate to your chain of misdemeanours.' She paused for a moment and then continued.

'I believe that the girls are taking you to Emily Cooper's tea party tomorrow. Having seen what you're going to be wearing, I must say that it will be a party you'll never forget.'

The afternoon turned out to be fairly boring for me. The topic of conversation tended to be 'girly' things, and I asked if I could put on a video. To my surprise, nobody seemed to mind, and it was only when I saw the choice on offer that I realised why. Most of them were definitely not the sort of films that a boy would want to watch, but eventually I found something bearable, and I was able to retreat from the girl's conversation for a couple of hours.

Mrs, McPherson prepared tea, and the girls took great delight in ensuring that I sat up straight and ate my food daintily like a proper little girl. Afterwards we helped to wash up, and then the girls took me up to Fiona's room. Here I had to endure the humiliation of trying on several of Fiona's more demure little dresses in a sort of fashion parade. How I hated it.

My release from this purgatory came when Susan noticed the time. 'Well I suppose we'd better be getting back' she said, looking at her watch, 'Come along Jennifer.' We went downstairs, and Mrs. McPherson fetched our raincoats. Susan put hers on, and Mrs. McPherson smiled as she held my mackintosh out for me to put on. I slid my arms into it, and she began to button it up. 'Well this will keep you nice and dry' she said, fastening the belt. She pulled up the hood and buttoned it closed under my chin, and pulling the hood forward she peered closely at my face and smiled. 'I always think that little girls look so sweet when they're wearing their mackintosh hoods' she said. 'I suppose they look a bit like a bonnet, really. And these rubberised satinette mackintoshes are so waterproof as well as making the wearer look like a proper little girl. You look just like Fiona did when she used to wear it.'

Smiling, she opened the front door, and after saying our goodbyes, Susan and I stepped out into the pouring rain. As we walked through the heavy downpour, the rain once again ran down onto my bare legs and soaked my feet in their short ankle socks and sandals. As we walked along, the hem of my wet mackintosh slapped against my bare legs, and the hood restricted my field of view. My soaking wet mackintosh started to feel cold and clammy, and the rubberised satinette material smelt. The cuffs of my sleeves and the hem of the mac continued to drip water down onto my feet.

Eventually we reached the bus stop, and I had to just stand there while we waited for the bus. I was relieved when it finally arrived, and looked forward to removing the hated mackintosh , at least for a short while. We stepped on board, and soon found a seat. I went to remove my mackintosh, but Susan grinned as she said 'Oh no Jennifer, keep your mac on, it's too cold to take it off. Leave your hood done up, put your hands in your pockets, and sit down.' I miserably did as I was told, and sat there like that for the entire journey. My wet mackintosh started to feel cold and clammy, and the rubberised satinette material smelt. The cuffs of my sleeves and the hem of the mac continued to drip water. It felt awful. At last it was time to get off the bus, and by now the rain had stopped. Susan lowered both our hoods, and we walked home.

Susan opened the door and we went in. We took off our raincoats and hung them up in the hall before going into the lounge where Mum was sitting on the sofa watching television. She looked up as we went in and sat down next to her, and she smiled at the sight of me. She obviously still found it amusing, and I can hardly blame her.

'Well, how was it?' she said, 'Did you show Tommy what he's going to wear tomorrow? I assumed that was why you took him over there.'

'No' grinned Susan, 'We were going to make him try it on, but we decided to keep him in suspense until tomorrow.'

'Oooh, how mean' laughed Mum, 'Oh well, he'll know soon enough, won't he.'

Since we had already eaten it wasn't necessary to make tea, and we sat in comparative silence for the next few hours. Eventually it was time for bed, and I went upstairs with Mum, who helped me to undress. As I snuggled down under the bedclothes I said 'Mum, do I really have to go to this silly tea party tomorrow? I know the girls have got something really nasty in mind for me, and I think it's unfair for them to take advantage of my punishment to make it even worse.'

'Oh don't worry' laughed Mum, 'Just go along with it. Don't forget, the less upset you look, the sooner they'll leave you alone.'

'Yes I know, that's all very well, but you're not the one who has to put up with it.'

'Yes, well if you hadn't been so silly you wouldn't be in this fix, would you? No Tommy, I'm afraid you're just going to have to put up with it. At least I think it will teach you to think of the consequences before you get up to any tricks in future.'

'You can say that again!' I said with feeling.

Mum tucked me in and kissed me goodnight. It had been quite a day and I was tired, so it didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep.

 

(continued)

 

 

 

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