The Blue Dress - Part 1

by MonicaS

Copyright © 2021 Monica S.

High school wasn't nice to me. The first year I somehow managed mostly to avoid the bullies, but now in my junior year, it seems I became their target. The changes over summer break certainly didn't help. Instead of growing taller and bulking up like most boys, I had stopped growing at 5' 4" and had no muscles to speak of. Well, not doing sports certainly was a reason for the latter. I was just more of an artsy type of person. I liked to draw and had a keen interest in fashion. It led me to take a fashion and design class this year. Perhaps that was a mistake.

As soon as the bullies noticed me choosing fashion class, they called me names like gay or girly, sometimes even getting physical. There were only two boys in my fashion class, and the other one, Ralph, was flamboyantly gay. Nothing against being gay, but I wasn't, and Ralph's style wasn't mine. That was a reason we didn't connect. Somehow Ralph didn't have any trouble with the bullies, perhaps because he was taller and much more athletic. And rich. At least I knew some of the girls from art class the year before, and we got to talk sometimes, but I wasn't part of their group. I didn't fit in with any other group either after my best friend moved away, another unfortunate change over the summer. So I was mostly alone.

The worst change over the summer, though, was that I had grown breasts. Well, not real breasts, at least that's what my doctor told me. He called it gynecomastia, caused by me having a low testosterone level. They weren't big, not really noticeable under clothes. To be sure, I hid them under a bandage, especially for physical education. The low testosterone probably was also responsible for the lack of any beard. Together with my hair getting quite long, I might have been called Miss sometimes while shopping. I was about to get it cut when it all got out of hand.

One day I entered the locker room for phys ed a bit late after my fashion class.

"Hey Chrissy, could you not stop playing dress-up with the girls again?" Mark Peterson, my nemesis, asked. My name was Christopher, Chris for short, but not Chrissy.

"We aren't dressing up. We are designing and creating clothes. And it's Chris!" I replied with anger.

"Sure, Chrissy, if you say so," Mark said and laughed while his friends joined in.

Why did I even try to reply anything? He goaded me again, and I could do nothing. He was a big jock, and I was a scrawny nothing. I had to get my anger under control, though, or I wouldn't be ready in time. So I undressed quickly and didn't pay any further attention to Mark. Big mistake.

As soon as I pulled my shirt over my head, I felt somebody unfastening my bandage and yanking at it while somebody else grabbed my arms. With my arms trapped in my shirt, I couldn't do anything about it, and I got spun around until the bandage was off.

"What have we here? I always wondered what Chrissy was hiding under the bandage, but I didn't expect this. He has tits. Or is it 'she' after all?" Mark howled in laughter, soon followed by his friends.

I wished the earth would open up and swallow me. I was so ashamed. When the goon who hold my hands let go, I quickly pulled my shirt back down. But it was too late. The damage was done. My secret was out, and Mark would taunt me even more. And even more people would probably join in.

I sat down and cried. That didn't help either, of course.

"Oh, Chrissy is crying now. She really must be a girl, as boys don't cry," was one of many remarks.

Finally, the teacher came into the locker room.

"What's the matter here?" he asked while looking around, not noticing anything out of order. "Chris, why aren't you changed? Hurry up! The rest, out into the gym."

Well, at least I was left alone to finish changing.

* * *

As expected, the following days were horrible. Walking through the halls was like running the gauntlet. Everybody stared at me. A lot of name-calling and whispering. I heard some "tits," "freak," and "it."

When I had the next fashion class, some girls approached me.

"So, is it true that you're a girl now?" Anne asked. "Should we call you Chrissy, now?"

"Oh no, not you too!" Anne was the leader of the girls and sometimes quite bossy.

"Sorry, I didn't want to offend you. I saw a documentary about transgender kids, and with the talk about you, I thought you'd be one of them."

"No, I'm still a boy." I knew the general concept of transgender but didn't know much.

"But you have breasts? I thought that's what you get when you take hormones. To change sex."

"No, I don't take hormones, but I have a hormonal imbalance. It made me grow breasts. It's called gynecomastia."

"Oh. Well, that must be hard then. Anyway, it doesn't matter to us if you're a girl or a boy. We wanted to say that we'll help you if we can, right girls?"

The other girls affirmed Anne's offer for help.

"Thank you." I was glad at least some people were still nice to me.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Anne asked. "I mean, with the rumors going around."

"I don't know. Probably just wait until it quiets down. Mark Peterson and his goons probably won't stop bullying me, though."

"I heard of him. Not a nice guy. What did he do to you?"

"Always name-calling, sometimes pushing me aside. And Mark was the one who tore off my bandage so everybody could see my breasts."

"That must be bad. Did you tell anybody?"

"What good would it do? I can't prove anything. And he's a Peterson. His family is loaded. I don't want to aggravate him."

"Yeah, not easy. But you could stay close to us so Mark can't do that anymore," Anne suggested.

"Thanks. Can't harm at least. That guy seems to think I'm one of you girls anyway."

"You can be an honorary girl if you want. At least we have fashion as a common interest."

* * *

I actually took the offer to stay close to Anne and her friends. I didn't notice before, but I had each class together with at least one of them. Additionally, we sat together at lunch break, and I found out that fashion wasn't the only topic I could discuss with them.

The hubbub around me slowly died down, or I didn't notice it as much anymore, as I was walking through the floors with my new friends, chatting along. Only in the bathrooms and locker room I still felt alone and was sometimes harassed.

Mark wasn't done yet, of course. He approached me in the locker room some days later.

"So, Chrissy, did you finally become one of the girls? You always hang out with them now."

"They accept me and are nice to me. You guys are just mean to me. But then you're probably just jealous I get to hang out with girls while you can't find a girlfriend."

The girls had told me that his last girlfriend broke up with him some time ago, and his reputation scared girls off. I shouldn't have said that, though, as Mark got angry and he grabbed me and pushed me against the wall.

"You think you're better than me? I'll show you who's better."

With that, Mark punched me in the gut, and I convulsed in pain.

"Hey Mark, calm down," one of his goons said, "you know what happened last time you got angry. Besides, the teacher could come in at any time. You don't want to get caught again."

With this voice of reason, Mark released me.

"This isn't over, you little prick," he said and got back to his stuff.

After some moments, the pain lessened, and I was able to think again. I never expected such a violent reaction from Mark. Sure he pushed me into a wall before, but he never hit me. I would have to be more careful now. I was lucky that his goon was more level headed than Mark. I don't want to know what would have happened if he hadn't stopped Mark. The goon's comment meant Mark had done worse before.

I moved to the furthest corner of the locker room to change, wary of any movements Mark made. Luckily the rest of phys ed was uneventful.

At lunch, I discussed Mark's assault with the girls. The other guys in the locker room either didn't see anything or didn't care as nobody said anything. And I didn't report it immediately, so now it was too late to get teachers involved. It probably wouldn't have helped anyway. In the end, we talked about more and more ridiculous ideas about how I could avoid phys ed.

* * *

Some more days passed, including some uneventful phys ed classes. Mark was surprisingly restrained, but he always smirked strangely when our eyes crossed. It creeped me out a bit but was better than the alternative. So the situation was mostly like before my secret got out, except that I had the fashion girls as my friends now.

Perhaps this lulled me in. I still kept my distance from Mark, but I didn't pay enough attention to his goons. So one day, when I was just about to enter the locker room, they grabbed me and pulled me into a dead end. One guy had his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream. Mark arrived shortly afterward.

"Hello Chrissy, if you behave everything will be fine," he said. "If you don't things might turn ugly. And we don't want that, do we? So will you behave?"

I was shielded from view, and nobody could help me, so I decided to cooperate and nodded my head.

"Good, because I have a present for you. Something to complete your journey to girlhood." With that, Mark pulled a blue piece of clothing out of his bag and gave it to me.

I was stupefied.

"Don't you want to put it on?" Mark asked.

"What, now?"

"Sure. Show me how much you like my gift."

I was trapped, and Mark had shown before that he had no qualms about hurting me. I unfolded the piece of clothing, and it turned out to be a simple shift dress.

"Hurry up and take your clothes off," Mark demanded.

So I did just that, removed my shoes, pants, and shirt, then pulled the dress over my head. It fit quite well as it was stretchy and reached nearly to my knees.

"Let me help you with the zipper," Mark said and proceeded to zip up the back of the dress.

"And now the final touch. Pucker up." He had a tube of bright red lipstick in his hand and applied it to my lips.

"There, finished. Now you can finally go where you belong," Mark said and pulled me towards the girls' locker room. There he opened the door, pushed me in, and closed the door.

I immediately turned around and tried to open the door again but couldn't. Accepting the futility, I turned towards the room. All the girls stopped changing and looked at me, the boy in the blue dress, invading their private space.

"Chris? What are you doing here?" asked Anne, standing in her underwear.

I was embarrassed, but I was glad that Anne was here. At least one friend.

"I ... I didn't want this. Mark pushed me in."

"What about the dress?"

"He forced me to put it on."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, he just threatened me."

"Where are your clothes?"

"I had to take them off at the end of the hallway, in the dead end."

"Linda, you're still dressed. Can you look if they're still there?"

"Sure," Linda replied and went out to look. Mark must have left already as she had no problem opening the door. Shortly afterward, she came back, empty-handed. "Nothing's there."

"Damn. What do I do now?" I said. "I can't go into the boys' locker room like this."

"Hmm, what if we turn the tables on Mark and make you look like a girl?" Anne suggested. "You could change here with us and go to the girls' bathroom so that Mark can't get at you alone anymore."

"You mean permanently?"

"Well, as long as needed to protect you from Mark."

Could I do that? Could I pretend to be a girl for the foreseeable future? "What about the teachers? Will they allow it?"

"You could say that you're transgender. There are rules to protect trans kids in school."

"What about the other girls?"

"Let's find out. Everybody who is for helping Chris to become a girl and allowing him to change in here raise your hand."

One after the other, all the girls in the locker room raised their hands.

"There you have it. So do you want to become a girl?" asked Anne.

That was the big question. I informed myself about transgender after Anne brought it up. So I knew it was possible. I also knew that it wasn't easy and that trans kids usually had therapists and I didn't, of course. I just considered dressing like a girl. I didn't want any hormones or surgery.

I looked at the door. If I said no I'd have to go through that door, and there would be never-ending ridicule. If I said yes there would be some ridicule too, but I would be among friends. Perhaps I would even fit in more. So I said "Yes."

"Okay, then let's start. We don't have much time," Anne said. "I have a spare pair of leggings, here, try them. Does anybody have a spare shirt? And a sports bra? What is your shoe size?" Anne was in her element, quickly organizing my transformation.

In no time at all, I was decked out in female athletic gear. The borrowed sports bra even gave me quite a female shape.

"Now for your face. You have fair skin, no foundation necessary. The lipstick is badly applied, though. Let me redo that," Anne said and wiped the lipstick off, followed by applying a new coat. "There, this light pink shade looks better one you. Now some mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow." She continued to apply makeup. "There, finished."

There was a knock on the door towards the gym. "Time's up. Get out here," barked the teacher.

The girls were all watching Anne transforming me into a girl. So nobody went out into the gym yet.

"I have to get your hair styled quickly," Anne announced and proceeded to brush my quite long hair mostly to one side and attached a barrette to keep it out of my eyes. "Okay, this has to do. Get up. We'll go into the gym together."

This was the moment of truth. How would the teacher react? And the boys?

Contrary to my expectations, nothing happened at first. It seems I didn't stand out in the group of girls entering the gym. The teacher only noticed when he put us into groups and had to place me.

"Christopher? Why are you wearing makeup? And girls' clothes?"

I had thought about how to answer that question for the last minutes, so I was prepared. "I'm transgender, and I have decided to live as a girl. Please call me Chris from now on."

The gym teacher was momentarily speechless but then said "Okay ... Chris ... I didn't get notified. Wait, you changed with the girls?"

"That's okay," Anne came to my rescue. "We all support Chris, and she can change with us, no problem."

"Well, okay, but no shenanigans." Then he continued to put us into groups as if nothing happened.

All the boys had their eyes on me then, of course. It's not often that somebody suddenly changes their apparent sex. But then the story about my breasts wasn't that long ago. They talked among themselves, but I couldn't understand anything. When I looked at Mark, he seemed stunned. I guess this wasn't what he expected from his prank as he would probably call his act of forcing me into a dress.

The teacher kept us busy, so there wasn't much chance for the boys to talk to me. I was sure I'd get the comments soon enough, though. Well, I went through that before.

Eventually, the class ended, and we returned to the locker room. There I looked into a mirror and saw myself as a girl for the first time. And I did see a girl. The makeup and different hairstyle transformed my not-so-masculine face enough that I couldn't detect a boy in the mirror. Together with the clothes, there was no doubt I was a girl. Well, except for my crotch area. I had a little bulge there. I'd have to pay more attention to that.

It was time to change back to street clothes again. I only had the blue dress for that. As it was a bit cold and to hide my leg hair, one of the girls gave me nude pantyhose. For shoes, I put the borrowed trainers back on. Anne quickly repaired my makeup, and I was ready to go.

I was still missing my male clothes, especially what I had in my pants' pockets. Luckily I had "find my device" configured, and we could make my phone beep. Anne went with me for the hunt, and we heard a faint beeping from the boys' locker room. I chanced to open the door and was lucky that the room was empty. I found my clothes in a wastebasket, drenched in water. I retrieved my phone, keys, and wallet and then noticed I had no pockets in my dress. I could only hold them in my hand for now. We tried to remove as much water as we could from my clothes, and I decided to put everything into my locker for now.

We were just about to leave the locker room when some boys entered.

"Hey, wrong room, girls."

"Oops, sorry," I replied, and we were gone. I guess I passed as a girl.

I rushed to my locker, but in the end, I wasn't ready in time for the next class.

"Chris, you're late," the teacher stated the obvious.

"Sorry, Ms. Jones. My clothes got wet, and I had to change."

"I see you changed. Nice dress, by the way. Is it 'she' now"?

"Umm, yes."

"Okay, sit down."

That went better than expected. But then Ms. Jones is young and progressive. My appearance caused some talk among the students, but Ms. Jones quickly quieted it down.

After the bell rang for lunch break, I couldn't avoid the comments and questions any longer. I decided to continue with my "I'm transgender and have decided to live as a girl" and didn't mention Mark's role in this. Most girls and some guys were surprisingly supportive. Some even claimed to see it coming with me always being more feminine. I didn't understand how, as I'd never thought in that direction before. I even got asked if I had the sex-change surgery already. I told them that I was just starting to transition and that things took time. Fortunately, the bullies and haters stayed in the background for now.

When I reached the fashion girls at lunch, Anne had been busy organizing my future as a girl already.

"Hi Chris, as you'll live as a girl now, you need new clothes, makeup, and other stuff, of course. I don't have time today, but Susan offered to go shopping with you. She's a shopping wizard. Nobody can shop as fast as her. I made a list of what you need for the next few days. We can go for more at the weekend. With bras, get some a cup size larger than you need. I have some breast enhancers I don't need anymore. I'll give you them tomorrow. After you're finished shopping go to Paula. She'll show you how to use makeup and style your hair. She's very good at it. She'll also put the hair extensions in I put on the list. You look okay with your short hair, but you'd look much better with longer hair, don't you agree?"

"Umm, yes." This was a bit much, but I was confident Anne knew what she did. I didn't think about how expensive the decision to live as a girl could get. My family wasn't rich. My mother was a single parent and I was her only child. No big sister's closet I could raid. Luckily I had worked over summer break and had saved most of the money. I thought about getting a car, but that had to wait now, it seems. With what I learned in fashion class, I could make or change some clothes myself. Perhaps I could save some money that way.

After lunch, I had to use the bathroom. It turned out to be a non-issue. Susan went with me, and the other girls in the bathroom didn't say anything. I sat to pee, of course.

I met Mark on the way to my next class.

"So Chrissy, you're transgender now?" he said and frowned.

"You are the one who said I'm a girl. You should be happy. You got what you wanted; I'm wearing your dress. Thanks for the gift, by the way. It's a nice dress. How did you know my size?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't vex me anymore by calling me a girl, now that I adopted the role. And he didn't have a new spiel, yet. He turned and went away.

1:0 for team Chris.

The next classes went okay too. I said I'm transgender, and the teachers accepted it somehow. The grapevine was fast, and quite some students had heard about it already, so I only had to answer a few questions during the breaks.

* * *

As planned, Susan took me shopping after school. We hit Target first and looked for a purse, so I didn't need Susan to carry my wallet, keys, and phone for me. I actually got two, one cute small one with only enough room for the essentials and a bigger one that was more practical, as Susan told me. After that, we got quite some makeup and related stuff. I didn't know there are so many different products you need just for your face. Next was some underwear, only basic bras, panties, socks, and pantyhose for now. Target isn't known for high fashion, after all. I was a bit nervous trying them on, but Susan assured me I looked perfectly normal and wouldn't have any problem at the changing cubicles. I was glad I did try them on, though, as the first set was too small. Then I got some athletic gear, leggings, shirts, sports bras, and trainers, which I also had to try on. That took quite some time. I hoped it would become faster once I knew my sizes. We looked for skirts and tops, too, but didn't like the selection. At the shoe section, a blue pair of heels got my attention because the color matched my dress perfectly. They were pumps with an ankle strap and 4" stiletto heels. I had to get them. I also got some more practical black pumps, black ballerina flats, and sneakers. Only a girl for one day and I already got more shoes than I ever had before as a guy.

After Target we went to H&M, where we found some cute skirts and tops. I decided to try my old boy jeans as a girl before getting new pants. I also thought about some lingerie, but it was getting late already. Finally, we had to get hair extensions, for which we went to a specialty store. We were lucky to find real-hair extensions in my color on sale. They still were the most expensive single item in my shopping spree. Altogether I spent several hundred dollars. I was committed to living as a girl. Otherwise, all that money would have been a waste.

Susan then drove me to Paula, where I unloaded my many shopping bags. I thanked Susan profusely. I wouldn't have been able to get all the stuff on my own, especially not in such a short time. She really was a wizard.

At Paula's, I put on my new blue heels so I could get used to them. Paula gave me some valuable tips for walking in them, but I'd need some practice. At least I didn't break my ankles. Paula then started to install the hair extensions and we got to talk.

"I never got the whole story with your sudden change. Anne just said Mark forced you into a dress, and you decided to be a girl now. So are you transgender? You denied it some weeks ago."

"I'm still a guy inside all of this. With this dress on, I had two choices. Either get laughed at as a boy in a dress, or embrace being girly and go the whole route. As you know, I'm not a manly man and my interests are more on the feminine side. Being a girly boy isn't accepted. With the support shown by you girls, it'll be much easier to live as a girl."

"So you're only pretending to be a girl? Can you follow through with it? Being a girl isn't all fun and games."

"I guess I have to see how things develop. For now, dressing as a girl and being seen as a girl feels good."

"Are you sure this is the right thing? It's a big change and will have consequences. Being transgender isn't accepted everywhere, let alone pretending to be a girl. You probably damage your reputation permanently."

"What reputation? Mark made me a laughingstock again and again. After lunch today, he couldn't do that for the first time. I don't take this as a joke. I'll be the best girl I can be. Perhaps that makes me transgender after all?"

"Well, it's your life. If you ever want to be a boy again, don't be afraid to ask for help. I will support you anyway."

"Oh, thank you. That means a lot to me."

Once Paula was finished with the extensions, I looked at myself in the mirror. Anne was right. I looked a lot better and very natural.

"I didn't expect the extensions to blend in this seamlessly," I said.

"You got good quality."

"Thank you for doing this. I wouldn't have been able to do it alone."

"No worries. That's what friends are for. Now I'll teach you some basic makeup techniques. I'll do one side of your face and you'll do the other."

So with a lot of try and error, I learned about concealer, foundation, setting powder, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick and lipgloss, brushes, sponges and, not to forget, makeup remover and facial skincare. Like Paula said, just the basics. It was getting really late, but I was happy with the result.

Now I had to go home and face my mother.

* * *

To be continued