Author Topic: Come Dancing (Read 28923 times)

DaraJaney · « **on:** June 01, 2006, 06:31:01 PM »

[Warning: this is just a "Sissy" story - there'll be no nappies in this one.]

St. Patrick’s High School were determined to win the All-Ireland Dancing Championships this year. They were entered in the group category. Four boys and four girls made up the team. Two understudies were also trained to the same standards in case of any injuries. Expensive dance dresses had been purchased for the girls with elaborate Celtic designs. The girls hated the outfits – they were so short and flared – but they knew they were necessary to please the judges.

The regional finals were set for the weekend after the mid-term break. On the Monday before, two of the girls were out cycling and crashed into each other. It was clear from their injuries that they were not going to be able to dance.

The principal, Mr. O’Connor, was appalled when he heard. There was no other girl in the school that they could train in the time left. The routine strictly demanded four boys and four girls. He even briefly thought about getting the one of the boys to put on a wig and dress but he knew none of them would agree to do that - they would be the laughing stock of the whole school.

Then he had a thought. He went to his files. Hadn’t he turned away somebody last week who wanted to get their child into the school? They were full to capacity and he hadn’t given it much consideration at the time but he seemed to remember that the child’s CV included dancing medals.

He found the file. Damn! It was a boy – a Chris Kelly. He had been a champion Irish dancer among the Irish community in London. He read the covering letter again. They seemed to be desperate to get him into the school. He wondered were they desperate enough?

Chris was sitting at home in his room studying, even though he had no school to go to since his mother moved back to Ireland following his parents’ divorce. He was very frustrated. He had been almost guaranteed to get into one of the top colleges in Oxford but now his chances were slipping away unless he could get into a top school.

His mother came in. “Mr. O’Connor, the principal of St. Patrick’s has just been on the phone”, she said cautiously. Chris perked up. “He says that there is one way in which you can get into the school.” Chris was very interested. “They have an Irish dancing competition next week and they need you to perform as part of their group.” Chris smiled broadly. “Great! No problem.”

“Well, there is a problem actually”, his mother said. Chris was perplexed. “They need you to dance as a girl.” The smile was wiped off his face. “Are you serious?” “Yes. Two of their girls were injured last week and they are stuck for a girl to complete the formation. You could make a convincing girl”, she said tentatively.

Chris was gob-smacked. He had to think carefully about this. How would he face all the other pupils in the school if they knew he had been dressing as a girl? On the other hand, his options for getting into Oxford were diminishing fast. Would one week’s humiliation be worth it to fulfil his long-term ambitions?

The next day Mr. O’Connor was delighted to get the call confirming that Chris was prepared to go along with it. That afternoon he was introduced to the rest of the group. They were under strict instructions not to taunt him or laugh at his predicament.

They did a trial run of the routine. Chris was able to pick it up fairly quickly. There were a few fancy moves but most of it was regular stuff. When the practice was finished the girls gathered around Chris, desperately trying not to giggle. “Now you need to come with us”, Maire said and they pushed him out of the room.

They brought him to a changing room where one of the dance dresses hung from a hook on the wall. “We need to know if this fits”, Maire said suppressing a laugh. There was a plastic bag on the bench. Aileen picked it up. “And you’ll need these”, she said producing a pair of white knee-high socks. Chris heard a snort of laughter behind but by the time he swung round Maire had recomposed herself.

Aileen put the socks on the bench. “And these”, she continued pulling out a pair of panties with a lace frill at the leg-openings. She was desperately, and not too successfully, trying to keep a straight face. “No way!” Chris insisted. Maire took the panties. “I’m sorry but you have to. With all that high-kicking the chances are someone will see our briefs so you simply can’t wear boxers. These are standard issue. We all have to wear identical pairs. We hate it too but what can we do?”

Finally, there was a white bra with tissues to pad it out. Chris was so resigned at this stage that he didn’t protest at that.

They left him to change into the costume. He took off his shirt and picked up the bra. He had great difficulty doing up the catch at the back and eventually twisted the bra around backwards, did it up on his chest and twisted it back again. He pushed the tissues into the cups.

Then he pulled the dress over his head and zipped himself up. He looked around the room again before lifting up the dress and pulling down his trousers. He looked in the mirror. The dress only came half way to his knees. It flared so widely that his hands, when held by his side, disappeared into the deep pleats.

He pulled on the socks, putting off the inevitable as long as possible. Eventually he pulled down his boxers and put on the panties. They were not made to accommodate what he had between his legs so they squeezed his equipment into a compact lump.

The girls knocked on the door. Chris sighed and told them to come in. The girls stuck their heads around the door comically before they came in. They all smiled broadly but were careful not to laugh too much. They couldn’t take their eyes of Chris in the embroidered dress.

Anonymous · « **Reply #1 on:** June 03, 2006, 05:59:53 PM »

He practically cringed and was very conscious of the short dress. Maire looked at the bench and saw the boxers. She had great difficulty in maintaining her composure in the knowledge that Chris was wearing the lace-trimmed panties.

“Dance a few steps”, Aileen suggested. He was reluctant. “Go on, you’ll need to get used to how it feels.” Chris winced. He already didn’t like how it felt just standing there. Eventually he danced a few steps around the room that included a few high kicks. At the end Maire said “you definitely need to wear those panties. Since you are taller, that dress is even shorter on you.” Chris frowned.

He was relieved to get back into his trousers and wouldn’t need to wear the dress again until the final dress rehearsal on Friday. As they left the school hall Maire watched the way Chris walked. “You know, you’ll have to practice acting like a girl because, apart from the dancing itself, you’ll have to walk around all day on Saturday dressed as a girl.” Chris was about to say that it was out of the question when he realised she was right.

The girls discussed this and decided to bring him back to Ann’s house. She was the closest to his size and would have clothes that would fit him. Chris reckoned he had worn enough girl’s clothes today but he was persuaded that it was necessary.

An hour later he was standing in Ann’s bedroom in a white lacey blouse and plaid skirt. They wanted him to walk back and forth to get used to the heels on the sandals. They insisted that he would need some make-up to look convincing so he let them put a little foundation, blush and lipstick on him. They clipped dangly earrings on his lobes and tied his longish hair up in ribbons. They wanted him to wear tights but he drew the line there. They spent hours coaching him in how to act, until his feet and head hurt.

On Friday he didn’t know where to go to change. The girls wouldn’t let him in their changing room with them and he certainly didn’t want to be pulling on those panties in the boys’ changing room. Eventually the girls let him go into their room first so long as he left before they started.

So he had to stand around in the hall wearing the dress while all the others changed. He clutched his skirts nervously being his first time ‘out’. The boys were under strict orders again but they couldn’t help laughing. Still, they weren’t too mean to him.

The group went through the routine several times. The substitute boy sat watching. He smirked every time the girls kicked their legs high. The dance teacher was very happy with their performance and told them to get to bed early for the big day.

The girls told Chris he would have to meet them in Patricia’s Beauty Parlour early in the morning. He looked exceptionally worried. “We are all getting our legs waxed and hair done so you’ll have to come as well.” Chris was now startled. “It’s OK. She has a back room where she can look after you in private.” He was speechless but he knew he needed some work done to look convincing.

Early the next day he waited nervously outside the beauty parlour. The girls all arrived together and stopped their giggling when they saw Chris standing with his hands firmly thrust into his pockets, clearly trying to look as butch as possible.

They brought him in to meet Patricia. Thankfully the place was empty of customers at that stage. Patricia was clearly relishing the idea of working on Chris. She and another lady brought him into the back room. He looked back over his shoulder before disappearing in the door with the women and the girls waved as they took off their coats.

They made him strip to his boxers. They washed his hair and then worked on it. He frowned at the smell of some of the lotions they were using – the mysteries of the female species! One set to work on his waxing while the other continued on his hair. He was in such agony from the waxing that he barely noticed Patricia rolling his hair into tight curls.

When the waxing was finished he finally relaxed and started taking other things in. His hair was covered in an elasticated plastic cap. The women started on his make-up. He would have preferred to be facing a mirror to see what they were up to.

The whole process took hours. The women helped him put on his dancing dress, panties, socks and shoes before letting him look in the mirror. They sat him down again and took the bag off his head. He felt them tying ribbons in his hair in what seemed like elaborate arrangements.

Finally he was allowed to stand up and look at the mirror. He was astounded. His hair was pulled up on top with intricately entwined ribbons and then fell in tight ringlets. He briefly wondered how they would straighten his hair out again afterwards but was distracted by the heavy make-up which included bright red lipstick and very obvious blush on his cheeks. His legs had recovered from the waxing and shone so smoothly.

Before he could object they grabbed him by the arms and brought him outside. He knew the room was full of customers by now. The girls were in various stages of finishing their preparations. They all sported similar ringlets and heavy make-up. They stood with mouths agape at the perfect Irish cailin in front of them.

The customers were similarly impressed though there was no sign that any of them suspected that he was a boy. And why should they? He certainly didn’t look anything like a boy.

Their mini-bus pulled up outside and the girls rushed their final preparations. They scampered out to the bus and Chris for the first time felt the fresh air circulate under his dress and up around his panties. He shivered.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #2 on:** June 07, 2006, 05:51:28 PM »

The boys had been ready to give him a hard time but they seemed to be taken aback by how convincing he looked. Chris shifted uneasily in the seat all they way to the city.

He did his best to act like a girl and observed everyone he met carefully. There was no hint that anyone suspected anything. While he was initially relieved at this, he was also disturbed that it was so easy to turn him into a girl.

In the early afternoon they finally got to go on stage. As they stood waiting for the music to start, Chris noticed that the front two rows immediately below the stage were full of spotty thirteen-year-old boys with big grins. It was obvious why they chose those seats and it wasn’t a love of Irish dancing.

Chris tried to concentrate on the routine. He would have preferred not to be kicking so high but couldn’t jeopardise the team. The dancing demanded that arms be held stiffly by the side but the front and back of the dresses flew up and down uninhibited.

Chris was so relieved to get off the stage. He counted down the hour or so to the announcement of the results. They would have to stay in costume until then.

They had come second which got them through to the national final. Journalists’ cameras flashed and it was only then that Chris became concerned that all this would be captured for posterity. The prize-winning dancers were asked to dance a few steps and most of the journalists squatted to get nice low angled shots. Chris managed to hold his rigid smile with the others.

He was so relieved to get into the changing rooms. This time he had no option but to join the girls in the appropriate room which was full of competitors in various states of undress. He tried to act as if this was all normal. Maire handed him a hold-all with his “normal” clothes for the rest of the day.

Chris looked into the bag to see a pink dress. He sighed. Then he watched in horror as the three girls removed their ringlets which turned out to be wigs! They all laughed as he looked in the mirror at his permanent ringlets. “Don’t worry they’ll straighten out in a couple of weeks.” He glared at them. He felt like such a chump.

Chris faced the corner of the room as he pulled the dance dress over his head so as not to give anyone the chance of noticing his stuffed bra. He took the pink dress and pulled it over his head quickly. He zipped himself up and looked in the mirror. He looked more like an eight-year-old girl in the pink dress and white knee socks.

Other girls in the room gave him sideways looks and he saw them smirk at his juvenile outfit. Maire, Ann and Aileen pulled jeans up under their dance dresses and Chris watched enviously as they pulled the dresses over their heads revealing tee-shirts underneath.

There was a pair of black t-bar shoes in the bag for him to replace his dance shoes. Most of the other girls left the room, poking each other and sniggering at the girl in the stupid dress. Maire tied Chris’s ringlets up with two pink ribbons and they were ready to go. Chris was mortified at his little-girlish attire but he was at their mercy.

They went out and headed for the coffee shop. Chris was acutely aware of the amused looks he was getting. They passed a door marked “Under-10s qualifiers” just as it opened. A dozen girls trooped out in their dance dresses. Even they took a double-take at Chris’s appearance and many of them laughed. One of them removed her wig of ringlets with obvious relief as soon as she left the room. Then she looked up and saw Chris in his pink dress and ringlets tied up with pink ribbon and she looked at her friends and made a face. They all sniggered.

They were to check into a hotel room for the night because there was a dinner and dance for all the competitors. Chris couldn’t wait to get to their room and out of the public gaze.

No sooner were they in the room than the girls started preparing to dress up for the evening. They spread various collections of make-up across the dressing table. Maire turned to Chris and said “You first.” He pleaded to be allowed stay in the room and skip the dinner and dance but they were insistent.

The girls helped him take off his dress and generally busied around him so he didn’t have any opportunity to think about what they were doing. He was stripped down to his bra and panties and before he knew what was happening, Aileen had painted one of his nails bright red.

He snatched his hand away in protest. She persuaded him that she had to continue now that she had started – he couldn’t have one red nail. Maire worked on his face while Aileen continued on his finger nails.

He had no idea what they were doing but Maire was applying mascara and eye-shadow. Aileen moved onto his toe-nails. He wanted to protest but Maire wouldn’t let him budge as she worked around his eyes.

When they were done they made him stand and Ann strapped something around his waist. He looked down to see a white suspender belt around his waist. They plonked him back in the chair and Maire and Aileen worked barely white stockings up his legs and attached the suspenders to the lace tops.

They ignored his pleas and while he was still examining this strange attire they strapped high-heeled sandals on his feet. He looked down and his red toe-nails could be seen through the stockings peeking out of his sandals.

Ann pulled something over his head. He was concerned that they were making him wear a very slinky, thin and short dress but it was a white slip. They made him stand up again and he caught sight of himself in the full length mirror on the wardrobe.

The lace-trimmed slip fell an inch short of the tops of his stockings and he could see the four suspender straps. Ann nudged him to make him walk across the room. He tottered in the high-heels but made it across the room.

They made him practice walking around and sitting and standing again. He couldn’t believe he was doing all this but they never really gave him an opportunity to resist.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #3 on:** June 11, 2006, 06:45:20 PM »

Maire sat him down again to apply his lipstick. He looked to the side at his reflection in the mirror. When he blinked he was shocked to see his thick eyelashes flutter and caught a glimpse of his eye-shadow. He proceeded to close one eye and then the other to see the full effect of the eye-shadow.

When Maire finished his lipstick she turned his face to the mirror. She had applied thick scarlet lipstick and he was sure she must have spread it beyond his actual lips because they looked so thick.

“Oh the boys are just going to be so eager to kiss those lips”, she teased him. Chris frowned. He looked in the mirror again and was genuinely concerned that boys were going to find him attractive.

Maire made him press his lips on a tissue. “So it won’t come off when you’re sipping from a glass”, she explained. “Or when you’re giving a blow-job”, Ann teased. But Maire didn’t laugh. “Yes, I’m afraid boys are very demanding these days”, she advised him seriously. Aileen nodded too. “You nearly always have to give them a blow job these days.”

Chris looked from one face to the other for signs that they were joking. “And they get very angry if you don’t swallow”, Maire continued and the others nodded. “They seem to take it as an insult.”

Chris was astonished. There was no way he was going near any guys let alone kissing one or giving a blow-job. “It tastes horrible at first”, Ann mused, “but you’ll get used to it after a few times.” Chris was gob-smacked. He had no intention of getting used to it!

Eventually they pulled his dress over his head. It was scarlet to match his lipstick and figure-hugging down to the waist where it flared with deep pleats. It only barely covered his lace stocking tops. He pulled down on the hem assuming that it must go further. But it didn’t.

Before he could protest, Maire pushed him to walk across the room again. He was a little better in the heels now. He looked in the full-length mirror again. “I can’t wear this”, he said, tugging at the hem again. “Of course you can”, Maire said in soothing tones. “No chance!” he said, “it’s WAY too short.”

“Not at all”, insisted Maire. “It’s just perfect.” She walked up behind him. “You’ll appreciate the convenience later”, she said and she flipped up the back of his dress and pulled the back of his panties down. “See? Easy access for the boys.” Chris swung around and pulled his panties up again. He wanted to assure them that he had no intention of going near the boys but he was speechless.

“Have you ever taken it up there before?” asked Maire as if it was the most normal thing to ask. Chris gave her an incredulous look. “No? Well it would be best to prepare you for it then”, she said taking a dil-do out of a bag.

Chris looked at it with mouth agape. When she came towards him with it, he turned and tried to run. But in the high-heels he could only take frantic short little steps. Maire took two strides and caught up with him. She caught him around the waist with one arm and with her other hand pulled down his panties with one finger and thrust the dil-do between the cheeks of his bottom. “See how convenient it is now? And there’ll be no getting away from the boys in those heels.”

She threw him down on the bed. The other two girls held him down by the shoulders. He twisted and squirmed while Maire rubbed Vaseline on the dil-do. “It’s for your own good!” she assured him as she pushed the dil-do against his bottom, “you’ll thank us in the end.”

She pushed hard and worked it into him. He arched his back as the dil-do penetrated him. At first he was stiff with shock. When she proceeded to push the dil-do in and back he squirmed again and groaned. “Sssh”, Maire soothed and continued to gently slide the dil-do back and forth.

When she pulled it out of him his face fell forward on the duvet and he breathed heavily. “We’ll need to do this a few more times for you to get used to it”, Maire said and before he had uttered the plea “Please!” she thrust it in again.

After more pushing in and out, Maire left the dil-do in him for a moment. “Now squeeze on it – they love that”, she advised. Chris raised his head from the duvet. There was a look of complete disbelief on his face. She actually wanted him to practice making it more pleasurable for the boys. “Come on”, she said and it was obvious she was going to leave it there until he did something. “If you don’t show them a good time, they may not want to do it with you again”, she warned him. “But we’ll show you a few tricks that will have them all coming back for more.”

He squeezed on the dil-do and flinched with the pain. “That’s good”, she said, “you’ll make an excellent prick tease. You’re going to be a big hit with all the boys tonight.”

Eventually she removed the dil-do and put it away. She pulled up his panties and the girls let him up from the bed. His tears had smudged some of the make-up so they had to touch him up.

He was in total shock now. It had all happened so quickly and been so bizarre that he didn’t know where to start. “Now, you go in and wait with the boys, while we get ready”, Ann said and propelled him towards the door. Aileen pushed a red purse into his hand. He desperately did not want to go out the door but he couldn’t resist their pushing in his high-heels. The door opened, he was pushed out, it closed behind him and he heard the click of the lock.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #4 on:** June 14, 2006, 06:31:05 PM »

He looked up and down the corridor, desperately hoping there was nobody around. He was lucky. He tugged at his hem again but it was no use. He lifted his hem to see if maybe he could pull the stockings up further. He saw the lace hem of his slip and the lace trim of his stockings. He examined the suspender strap to see if there was something to be done.

Then he heard the lift ping at the end of the corridor. He pulled his hem down again hurriedly. The doors opened and he saw three big burly men. He scampered towards the door to the boys’ room and went in quickly without time to think twice about it.

When he turned around the boys were all frozen in various stages of dressing, staring at him in astonishment. He sighed and went towards the bed, stomping in the unfamiliar high-heels. He sat on the bed and tugged at the hem of his dress hoping that his stockings couldn’t be seen by them.

The boys didn’t laugh at all. They were astounded at how he looked. In fact, they looked a little concerned. Jack, in particular, didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes of Chris.

He sat there for an hour trying to understand how he had ended up like this. Then the girls knocked on the door. They were told to come in. The three of them walked in wearing slacks, jackets and flat shoes. They were barely made up.

Chris stood up, tugged the hem of his skirt and looked at them enviously. “We didn’t want to steal your thunder”, Maire explained. “This is your big night”, she said as they took him by the arms and led him out of the room. “All the boys are going to be out to capture your heart tonight.”

When they entered the dining room all eyes were on Chris. A couple of girls wore slinky dresses but most were conservatively attired. Chris was immediately aware of the stares from many boys.

He picked at his food, not having much of an appetite. He just wanted the night to be over and to be safely back in his room. But there was to be a dance after the dinner and all the girls watched eagerly, certain that there would be a line of boys looking to dance with Chris.

They sat around the side of the dance floor and within seconds Chris was asked to dance by a boy. He smiled nervously and shook his head. Every minute another boy came and was rejected. The girls all accepted offers and left Chris on his own.

Eventually a tall boy came over and just grabbed Chris’s hand. He pulled him towards the dance floor, not taking no for an answer. Chris scampered behind him in his heels. In the middle of the dance floor the boy turned and put his arms firmly around Chris. There was no way Chris could get out of this without causing a major scene. The boy tried to engage him in conversation but Chris just responded with high-pitched grunts and smiles. The girls were delighted with this turn of events.

At the end of the song, Chris managed to get away from his suitor. He went quickly in the direction of a quiet balcony off the main room seeking solace from the crowd. He breathed the fresh air deeply, recovering from his traumatic incident.

Next thing two arms grabbed the railing either side of him and a boy leant against him. He turned to see who it was. It was Jack. Chris could feel Jack’s pen-is pressing between the cheeks of his bottom. It was definitely getting bigger. Thanks to Maire’s demonstration earlier, Chris was acutely aware how vulnerable he was.

“If you don’t want everyone here to find out your secret, then you’d better play along”, Jack whispered in his ear. Then Chris heard a zip. Jack lifted the back of Chris’s dress a couple of inches and pulled down the back of his panties. Chris wanted to cry. Which was worse, having everyone know he was really a boy in a dress and cause a scandal that would probably be in all the newspapers or let himself be buggered?

He wasn’t given any time to think about it. He felt Jack’s member at his bottom and soon it was being pushed into him. He was actually relieved now that he’d been prepared for this. “Huh!” Jack reacted when the entry proved to be easier than expected. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been taken this way, is it?” Chris didn’t answer.

Jack pushed in and out and seemed to be taking forever. Eventually in an effort to get it over with Chris squeezed on Jack’s pen-is. “Oh yes, yes, yes, you dirty little thing”, Jack gasped and with a couple more squeezes, he came.

Jack withdrew and zipped himself up. “Damn, you’re good at that”, he told Chris. “I must recommend you.” And with that he walked away.

Chris pulled up his panties, checked that his suspenders and stockings were OK and pulled down his dress again. Then he stood looking out into the night air. How had it come to this? Yesterday, he was a normal schoolboy and here he was in a sexy dress, stockings, suspenders and high-heels, already with a reputation for being a great arse-fuc-k.

He figured he had better move back into the main room. Before long Jack returned with a friend and grabbed Chris by the arm. He hauled him out onto the balcony again. Chris noted the look of eager expectation on the friend’s face. They were no sooner out of the main room when the friend opened his zipper. Chris cringed. Oh no, not again. Jack shook his arm. “Now, down on your knees and give him a blow job.” Chris winced. “You don’t want everyone to know do you?” The friend watched this exchange with interest.

Chris went down on his knees. The boy took out his pen-is and Chris took it in his mouth. Within seconds hot spunk was filling Chris’s mouth. He gagged at the taste. When the boy removed his pen-is some sperm ran down Chris’s chin. Chris instinctively caught it on his hand. The boy zipped himself up and he and Jack left without a word.

Chris thought about wiping his hand on his dress but decided that was not wise. He looked around but there was nothing to wipe it on. He studied the sticky white mess on his fingers and realised he had no choice. He braced himself and stuck his fingers in his mouth. He had to lick the disgusting stuff off. He winced as he swallowed the last of the spunk.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #5 on:** June 16, 2006, 02:20:34 PM »

When he stood up he realised that the ground had been damp and there were two wet patches on the knees of his stockings. He rubbed at them to no avail. A couple came out on the balcony so he had to go back into the room. Unfortunately, the music stopped and a man took the microphone to make some announcements. The house lights were turned up.

Chris looked down. The wet and dirty patches on his stockings were obvious. A number of boys noticed and nudged those standing beside them. There were knowing smirks exchanged. Chris gave another involuntary shudder as he tasted the remnants of the sperm.

One of the boys started following him. Chris walked as quickly as he could in his heels towards the girls. They turned towards him and immediately their eyes went down to the patches on his knees. They tried not to laugh.

“Oh look, your lipstick is smudged”, Maire said, “how did that happen?” The girls tittered knowingly. They grabbed him and hauled him to the ladies’ room. Maire took out some lipstick and started touching him up. “You must have given a blow-job”, Ann said excitedly. Chris’s silence was confirmation enough. “What was it like?” she asked.

Chris gave her a puzzled look. All the others seemed to be interested to know too. “Why are you asking me?” he queried, “you all know.” Maire laughed. “We’ve never given anyone a blow-job, have we girls?” They all laughed at the thought. “But you said…”, Chris broke off.

“No, you’re only one here who’s given a blow-job or taken it up the backway”, Maire confirmed. “This is great”, she continued, “it really takes the pressure off us. Now you’ve got the reputation, you won’t be able to fight them off. And they’ll leave us alone.” Chris was astonished. “If only they knew, they’re fuc-king one of their own”, Aileen said and they all laughed. “It’s only right really. Why should we have to put up with their demands?”

They grabbed him by the arms. “Come along now. There’ll be lots of boys waiting for you.” They pulled him towards the door. Chris tried to dig his heels in but scampered along helplessly. Then they were out in the main room again and Chris was acutely aware of all the male eyes on him.

Jack brought him two more admirers before the night was out. One took him up the rear and the other demanded another blow job. The sperm still tasted disgusting. Chris was never so relieved to get back to his bed.

On Sunday morning Chris was actually relieved to be able to put on the pink dress and white knee socks and be a picture of innocence again. On the way back in the bus Mr. O’Connor explained that the local newspaper wanted to come into the school on Monday and take some photos of them in their classrooms. He told Chris he was going to have to come in dressed as a girl again. Chris squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

Maire explained to him that it would be some time before his ringlets would straighten out so he would look strange if he dressed as a boy anyway and the final was on next weekend and he would need to be a girl for that. When he was dropped off at his house, she promised to call over later with an old school uniform of hers.

As the mini-bus pulled away, Chris realised that he was standing outside his house in a pink dress. Fortunately, they hadn’t got know the neighbours yet. He trudged into the house dreading his mother’s inevitable amusement at his appearance.

Later, Maire came over with the uniform. It comprised a cream blouse, green sweater, mostly green tartan skirt and green wool-knit tights. The skirt was short and pleated. He glared at Maire when he tried it on. “Sorry, but the only way we could rebel against having to wear a stupid tartan skirt was to wear a really short one.” She told him that she would walk to school with him in the morning.

He waited for her in the hallway the next morning, examining himself in the hall mirror. His mother fussed at the ribbons tying his ringlets up into something half-respectable. He tugged at his short skirt.

The doorbell rang. His mother opened the door and Maire stood outside wearing grey trousers. Chris stared at them in disbelief. “They decided earlier this year that we didn’t have to wear skirts anymore”, she explained. Chris looked down at his skirt and tights. “Well, why do think I don’t need that old uniform anymore?” Maire explained.

His mother pushed him out the door. He plodded along resignedly. He was becoming used to repeated humiliation at this stage.

As they neared the school he saw more and more of the other pupils heading in the same direction. Hardly any of the real girls wore skirts. He grew more and more despondent. How was he ever going to be able to appear in the school as a boy now? He would face merciless ridicule if all the others realised that he had appeared in a skirt and tights in his first few days.

The boys from the dance team smirked when they saw him. Jack’s eyes lingered on Chris’s long green legs. Chris tugged at his skirt in what was becoming a familiar habit.

He followed the others into a classroom and sat at a desk. He smoothed the short skirt under his bottom as he sat. He kept his knees clamped firmly together. A number of the boys stole not-too-subtle looks at his legs. They were starved of female legs since the girls were allowed to wear trousers.

Mr. O’Connor came in and introduced “the new girl”. Chris sat red-faced as all the class turned and looked at him. Even the girls looked at his green tights and smirked. He waited all day for the newspaper photographer to turn up but there was no sign.

He hung around with the girls all the time and had to use the girls’ toilets. As he sat in the cubicle with his panties and tights around his ankles, he could hear his friends tittering outside.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #6 on:** June 18, 2006, 06:57:21 PM »

At lunchtime Jack came over to him. Chris would have preferred if he’d stay away. Jack wanted him to go for a walk. Chris refused but Jack again threatened to reveal his secret to everyone so he had to comply.

Inevitably Jack took him around the back of the bicycle shed and Chris soon found himself on his knees suc-king Jack’s pen-is. As he coughed and spluttered and swallowed hard the bell rang for the start of the afternoon classes. He had to go straight into class without any chance to wash his mouth out. All through the class Chris winced every time he swallowed and Jack sat there with a satisfied smile on his face.

When Chris finally got home that evening he ran straight upstairs to change out of his girl’s uniform. He was dying to get into a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and went straight for the wardrobe. When he pulled the doors open he was shocked. The wardrobe was full of blouses, dresses and skirts. He pushed the hangars back and forth hoping to find his trousers in there somewhere but there were none.

He looked at the chest of drawers. He pulled the top drawer out. It was full of bras and panties. The next one contained knee socks, nylon stockings and tights. He braced himself before opening the third one. Camisoles and slips. The bottom drawer contained nighties.

His mother appeared at the bedroom door. “Where are my clothes?” he demanded. She came in and walked over to the wardrobe. She ran her hands through the blouses and dresses. “These are your clothes now. You can’t dress like a girl at school and a boy the rest of the time. The neighbours would notice. And we can’t be washing two sets of clothes every day.

“Please Mum!” he begged. “I promise I won’t go out dressed as a boy but please let me wear trousers in the house.” She shook her head. “No. I’ve locked your clothes away in a chest in the attic. You’ll have to stay in dresses and skirts until this is over.”

Chris was distraught now. “But when will it be over? I can’t ever go to that school now dressed as a boy. They would kill me.” His mother was unmoved. “Well that’s your choice then to continue going as a girl – that’s my point.”

Chris sat down on the side of the bed, tears forming in his eyes. He still had a year and a half to go at school. Was he going to have to spend all that time dressing and acting like a girl?

He looked up. “But girls wear trousers most of the time, so why can’t I?” “Girl’s trousers won’t fit you because of the way their cut. Anyway you need to look convincing as a girl if you don’t want anyone to suspect.” Chris sat slumped on the bed. “We’ll need to keep your hair in those ringlets and I’d suggest that we pierce your ears just to be extra convincing.”

Chris broke down crying as he realised that he was going to have to spend the next eighteen months in skirts and dresses with his hair in ringlets, his legs shaved, plucking his eyebrows and caring for his polished nails.

Not only that, but the next day at school his prime tormentor Jack brought a friend with him behind the bicycle shed. The ground was wet and Chris tried to save his tights by bending over to give the boy a blow-job. Half way through he felt Jack pull down his tights and panties and he proceeded to take him from behind. It looked like this was going to be a daily occurrence too.

By the end of the week the girls in the school were commenting on how the boys seemed to have lost interest in them. “They’re usually trying their best to get you into bed or at least cop a blow-job”, one of the girls told Maire, “but lately they’ve stopped.” Maire nodded agreement with a smile, as over the girl’s shoulder she saw Chris emerge from behind the bicycle shed swallowing hard with a shudder and tugging the back of his skirt to make sure it was pulled down again. A few moments later two boys walked out with very satisfied smiles on their faces.

She noticed how despondent Chris looked during classes, just staring out the window all the time. At lunchtime she observed how he meekly followed Jack out to the bicycle shed without so much as a mild protest.

The following weekend brought the dancing final. Chris’s mother came in to wake him early. He sat on the side of the bed staring at the blouses, skirts and dresses in his wardrobe. He couldn’t bring himself to pick an outfit. All week he’d worn the school uniform all day because he couldn’t be bothered changing into anything else after school.

His mother started to choose clothes for him. She strapped a stuffed bra around his flat breast and pulled a lacey camisole over his head. He let a deep sigh. “Well, if you don’t like it, pick something yourself”, she said. He still couldn’t bring himself to.

She selected a thin white blouse. He looked down at the lace ruffles as she buttoned it up. When he looked in the mirror he could see that the camisole was visible through his blouse. He was very frustrated being dressed in such feminine clothes - but not sufficiently to select something different. He reckoned most of his clothes were similarly lacey and frilly anyway.

His mother put a sky blue pleated skirt on him. He was relieved that it almost came to his knees. “Tights or knee-socks?” his mother asked. He squirmed at having to make such a choice. His mother opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of opaque white tights. He looked at the dangling legs of the tights ruefully. “Socks”, he blurted. He put on the white socks and black t-bar shoes himself.

Author Topic: Come Dancing (Read 28923 times)

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