Onyx Chapter 3

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Chapter Three

Walking to Mr. Tubman’s office was an experience, like the uniform skirt, this one felt too short, but unlike that one, I dared not try to tug it down. The movement of the top over my bare breasts soon had my nipples at attention, and due to the thinness of the material they were very visible.

We only encountered one person on the way to the head shrinker, and he would have been quite attractive, if he hadn’t stood there staring, is mouth slack as we continued down the corridor past him. I was sincerely hoping that this type of reaction was atypical. Soon after Lilli left me at the door to Mr. Tubman’s office saying “I’ll see you at lunch.”

I screwed up my nerve, and knocked at the door, and when told to enter, I opened the door, I stepped in.
Not looking up from papers on his desk he said “You’re late.”

I bristled a bit, but he was right. I was late. I stood in front of his desk waiting. Eventually, he put the folder down and looked up. The look of surprise on his face was almost immediately banished by that of strict professionalism, but it was there. “I see you have been to Wardrobe?”

I nodded. “Not what I expected,” I said quietly.

“Sit down sit down,” he said. “Get comfortable and we’ll begin.”

***

I am not going to bore you with the details of our session, save that he booked me for another two days later with an admonishment to not be late. Anyway, it’s personal. Finally however it was over, and I could go for lunch.

Yes, lunch, not going and finding something less revealing to wear. Somehow in the rush of things in the morning, I had missed breakfast, and who knows how many other meals. Compared to starving children in Africa, I was merely a bit peckish, but I felt hungrier than I had ever been in my life. Besides, Mr Tubman told me how to find the cafeteria not my room and I hadn’t had a spare moment to figure out the iPhone. Cunning bastard.

I hesitated at the door to the crowded cafeteria, conflicting thoughts and emotions churning in my head. I knew all the girls had been boys, and some would see me from that view point, the boys would be no better, sure they had been girls, but now their bodies were flooded with testosterone, I would be a magnet for them. I was afraid of the reactions from both groups, I was glad I turned out as such a hot chick not ugly or plain to be pitied, I was dismayed to be a girl.

Well, I thought to myself, it’s now or never, and I am hungry now… I took a deep breath and opened the door and walked in. My entrance had gone unnoticed. I looked around. Everyone was above average in looks, not a dog amongst them.

I was not the last to arrive, an older boy entered the line behind me with the swagger of someone who thought he was god’s gift to women. Sure enough, when he got close enough his hand moved forward, to either circle my bare waist, slap me on the ass, or pinch me. I didn’t care which, I didn’t want him touching me in any way. Without turning, I reached back and grabbed his wrist, I then looked over my shoulder and said “If you don’t want to lose that hand, you’ll keep it off me.”

Bravado? Yes, but I suspected that was the only thing that would work. Add the fact that I hadn’t looked back, might give him make him think I could back up my threat. Thankfully he didn’t call me on it..

A wave of silence spread through the room as everyone turned to look at me. I stood there petrified. A voice called out from the crowd, “Sean, do you have to attack every new girl?”

A laugh sounded out, and spread, about half the people there were laughing at him. The rest just ignoring us both. Gratefully I grabbed a couple of plates and joined Lilli at her table as she waved me over. As I walked over to her table there were lustful looks from some of the boys, and for that matter some of the girls. A few of both groups looked at me spitefully. It was unnerving, but I was trying to learn to ignore both.

I was expecting the food to be typical school cafeteria fare, but was pleasantly surprised, the Lasagne was excellent, and the pumpkin pie was heavenly, complete with real whipped cream. I really hoped my metabolism would keep up with my appetite if this was the quality of food they served here. If I had to be a girl, I definitely didn’t want the additional stigma of being a fat one. One of Lilli’s friends, Veronica, sighed “I wish I could eat like that.”

“Hey,” I replied, “I missed breakfast, and who knows how many meals before that.”

“Been there, done that,” she said. “But I didn’t cut back until the Doc weighed me at the monthly physical. She just looked at me disappointed. I got the hint.”

“I’ll have to watch that then.” I said.

“Well, there are alternatives, exercise, or if you’re really lucky a high energy power,” she suggested and looked at me inquiringly.

“Ugg, exercise.” I shrugged, “Don’t know, I’ll just get a scale and see.” Almost as soon as I had finished my phone beeped, I had a terse message. ‘PT Gear, exercise room C. 1330 sharp. Hill.’ I looked at my watch, that gave me half an hour. “Gotta run, I don’t want to be late twice on my first day.”

I consulted the map on the iPhone and headed to my room as fast as I could, not as fast as I wanted though, four and half in spike heels were not made for running in. True to Lilli’s word, the rest of items selected in our wardrobe expedition had been delivered, and even put away. There was even some semblance of order, the drab school uniform, then the brightly coloured casual, and not so casual clothes, and finally my PT gear, all in black..

I quickly stripped, tossing everything on the bottom bunk, except my boots that I put reverently on their own special shelf. As I dressed in my PT gear, it was another slap in the face that I was now a girl, gone was the loose t-shirt and shorts, now it was a pair of spandex shorts that came to mid thigh, a sports bra and a tight racerback shirt. At least since it was black it didn’t stand out as much. I minus occurred to me as I caught my reflection in the mirror, that from a distance, it would blend in with my skin, giving the impression that I might be naked. Great.

Looking at my watch again, I set of on a jog, I should just make it to the exercise room in time, long legs were a definite advantage here.

Or so I had thought, I was quite out of breath when I got there, but fortunately early. The room was empty of people at least, so I sat on the bench against the wall to catch my breath. A short while later a track suited man entered, looked around the room and muttered. “Late, why can’t people be on time?” and made mark on the clipboard he carried with him.

I stood up, annoyed. “Hey, I was here before you.”

He scratched out his first note, and wrote something else. “Attitude,” he said.

I bristled, but fought down the impulse to snap back a rude response, and instead replied, “I’m sorry. People keep overlooking me.”

“Well let’s get started then. We’ll start with powers.” He read down on the sheet. “Well, I guess you’ve demonstrated the first. I really didn’t notice you when I came in. Limited use though, more an annoyance I suspect. The other, do you really see everything around you?”

I nodded.

“Then let’s test that. Turn around.”

I did as Mr Hill told me. As I faced the wall I watched him he stepped back and looked me up and down. “You can quit checking out my ass any time,” I told him, a little snarkily. He didn’t react other than directing his gaze upwards.

While still behind me he held up a series of flash cards, asking me to identify the objects on them. I quickly got bored of this. His next test was to have me identify which of the Soccer ball or Basket ball was further. Still bored I answered “Soccer ball thirty-seven inches, Basket ball fifty-two and a quarter inches.”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he snapped. “There is no way you can be that accurate.”

I shrugged. “Check it.”

He got out a tape measure, and measured the distances, looked up at me, “You got lucky, you’re right, but you’re still a smart ass.” He then put moved them so they were a distance apart, one to my right, one to my left, but still mainly behind me. “But since you are so smart, how far are they from each other?”

“Get me a calculator, and I’ll tell you. I can’t do trig in my head.” I bit my lip hoping that I could remember the formula.

He grinned, and handed me a calculator. “Go ahead.”

Damn, I thought. He would be prepared. Wracking my brain for the correct formula, I entered the distances, 54 inches. 151.5 inches, angle apart 106 degrees. “They are, if I got the calculation correct 170 inches apart, or 14 feet 2 inches.”

Again out came the tape measure. “Right again,” he said. “For more tests of visual acuity, we’ll send you to the eye doc.” He paused. “Next up, reaction times, and hand eye coordination.” He indicated for me to turn and face him.

I did, but looked at him questioningly.

“I know you can see me without looking at me,” he said. “But for this, I want you to use your eyes as well.”

Reaction time was tested using the old tried and true. Thumb and fore finger held a little apart. A rule dropped between them, close the fingers, and count the inches, I’d done this before. Repeat and rinse. After a few times, he averaged the results. “A little below average, but acceptable,” he commented. “Now we’ll try it with your eyes closed and see how much of a fall off we get.”

He performed the test again, and repeated it several more time. “Way above average,” he sounded surprised. “Are you sure you were trying with your eyes open?”

I nodded. “Yes, of course.”

The results were the same with the hand eye coordination tests, slightly below average with my eyes open, significantly above average with them closed. Mr. Hill chuckled. “If we didn’t have rules and morals against it, I would suggest putting your eyes out. Pretty sure the Syndicate would.”

I shuddered. Sure, I didn’t need my eyes to see, but losing them would suck.

Next were more mundane tests, strength, running speed, endurance. Thanks to having freakishly long legs, I didn’t suck at running, but was not exactly stellar. Strength and endurance, in the words of Mr. Hill were “sub-optimal.” I finally emerged from the torture chamber with an appointment with the optometrist, and an exercise program that I already hated.

I dragged my weary ass back to my room, stripped off my PT gear, grabbed a towel and took a long overdue shower. I even remembered to put conditioner in my hair. What I hadn’t considered is how long it would take for such a mass of hair to dry. I started to towel it vigorously as I used to, but quickly realized it would end up a tangled mess. I got as dry as I could, then combed it out. It was still pretty wet. I either needed to get it cut off, or obtain a hair dryer and lessons on how to use it.

I decided a longer skirt was in order after this morning. The longest one I had was a bright blue, but even so, it only came down to mid thigh. Sighing I pulled it on, and found a matching tank top. At least with it I could wear a bra. A pair of blue sneakers completed my ensemble. Yep, blue sneakers, apparently I needed multiple colours of shoes. I had four sneakers, the previously mentioned black, plus blue, yellow and pink ones. But that wasn’t it, not by a long shot. In addition Lilli had foisted on me, the black MJs, four pairs of sandals, and three heels. Add these gorgeous white boots I had insisted on, my babies, and I was turning into Imelda Marcos.

By the time I was ready, my hair had dried some, so was merely very damp, and it was time for supper. I was starving after the workout Mr. Hill had put me through, so I headed for the cafeteria, filled my tray with a plate of Sheppard’s Pie, salad, coke, and a slice of blueberry pie and made my way over to the table my new friends were sitting at.

Veronica looked at my food filled tray and said “I hate you,” but accompanied it with a cheerful smile.

“No you don’t,” I replied. “You pity me.” I showed her my new exercise regime. “It’s not powers, it’s physical torture.”

She grimaced. “What did you do to piss Hill off?”

I shrugged. “Apparently my physical fitness level is sub-optimal,” I said wryly.

“I bet he used exactly those words too,” Lilli piped up.

Chuckling, I agreed. “I am just glad they haven’t scheduled anything for me to do tomorrow. I need some time to relax and think, I have been so busy today I haven’t had time.”

“You’re going to try and play hooky?” Veronica asked. “Don’t bother, they’ll just come and wake you up.”

“Huh?”

The whole table responded. “School.”

“But it’s summer!” I whined.

“We don’t get summer vacations,” Veronica commiserated. “They say it’s because they have more to teach us, but I think it is a plot to keep us to busy to get into trouble.”

Great, I thought. I’ll have to wear that uniform sooner than I had hoped. “Where is it?”

“We’ll all go together after breakfast,” Lilli told me.

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Comments

Alas

Poor Nefertiti Misaki Onyx, she is so abused! :)

I found the suggestion made in jest, humorous enough. However, it would have crippled NMO in case her powers were dampened. After all, it's not like she can't close her eyes in a pinch.

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Onyx Chapter 3

After all of this time, we still don't know what her power is, unless it is to annoy the teachers.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

I'm curious

NoraAdrienne's picture

What if the new "student" doesn't want to play the game? What if she says fuck you. I refuse to wear these stupid sexist uniforms and want jeans and slax. I don't give a shit about powers or anything else. What can they do, send them to live with the bad guys?

The gym teacher is a jerk

And you would think the Center, beta site in this case, would have a way to MAKE clothing for those of unusual build. IE has anyone ever heard of patterns and a sewing machine? Or they could order some once they have her measurements. Alterations of the closest size available as a temporary measure?

I agree, I want to see someone say "Screw you" on the uniform. They do let one of the earliest transformees at alpha site wear girls clothing as he dearly wishes to be female again -- and maybe can if they can find a powerful enough healer.

And heals on a six foot five gal? Talk about an Amazon! Though the boots were her choice. This forced male female roles seems a mistake. Too much a one size fits all rule for my tastes. But then this is a govt/military organization so what else would you expect?

At least they mean well.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

This person has had no

This person has had no orientation at all and has been thrown into a school system under a very strict regime - If it had happened to me and I had the powers most of these kids had, the principal would be advised to be way worried about the front door being destroyed as I left.

You want me to work for you?
Where's my contract? and there'd better be some real fancy row of zeros after the dollar sign.

"I'm a fucking Canadian buster. Not a Yank, nor an inmate of Guantanamo Bay. I'm OUTTA HERE." Would probably be the first thing that I said.

Other than that, it's a fine start