The Blue Dress - Part 2

by MonicaS

Copyright © 2021 Monica S.

After Chris got bullied for being girly and finally was forced to wear a dress at school, he decided to live as a girl. With support from friends, he got transformed into a passable girl, bought essentials, and learned the first lessons for girlhood. Then it was time to go home and face his mother.

* * *

Paula offered to drive me home after the makeup session. I gladly accepted it. Carrying my shopping bags home alone at night in a dress wasn't high on my list of things to do.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" Paula asked when we arrived at my home.

"No, thank you, but I have to do this on my own."

"Well, I wish you luck with your Mom." Paula hugged me.

I took my bags and entered my home. I had called my mother and told her that I'd be late, hanging out with friends but didn't mention anything else. There was no hiding now as the entrance opened into the living room and Mom was watching TV. She turned to me and looked confused.

"Christopher? Is that you?" she asked when she finally recognized me.

"Hi Mom, I guess we have to talk."

"Indeed. I'm curious how you'll explain this."

"Please don't get mad, but ..."

"Don't you want to put your bags down and sit on the sofa?" Mom interrupted me. "I'm sure you don't want to tell your story standing there."

"Umm, sure." I sat next to her. "Well, I guess I should have told you before, but I was too ashamed."

"That you've always been a girl? I should have known. You never got into boy stuff. Always art and fashion."

"What? No!" Perhaps I should have said yes. It would've made things easier, maybe, especially as Mom looked confused again. But I couldn't lie to her about something as important as this.

"What then?"

"I get bullied at school. It started this school year and got worse with time."

"Oh no. Why didn't you tell me? We have to call the school to stop it. They have to protect you."

"Mum, no! It's not so easy. The bullies aren't stupid. They only do stuff when there's no witness or when they can call it a joke. If I'd rat them out, it would be my word against theirs and their friends'. And they'd retaliate. The teachers can't always protect me."

"That isn't right."

"I know, but it is as it is. Anyway, the worst of the bullies is Mark Peterson. He always called me girly and stuff. Sometimes he pushed me. That stopped mostly when the girls from fashion class decided to stay with me between classes to protect me."

"Ah, you've found some new friends at school. That's good. You're always alone at home since your best friend moved away - until today. I was so happy for you when you said you hang out with friends. And then this happens."

"Mom, you digress. That's not important now."

"Oh, sorry."

"Anyway, protecting me worked mostly except for the bathroom and the locker room. There the girls couldn't stay with me, of course. I tried to stay away from Mark, but today I didn't pay enough attention, and he forced me to wear this dress."

"What? How could he do that?"

"Mark has a lot of friends, and they grabbed me when nobody was around. He must have planned it as he had this dress with him and gave it to me to wear."

"And you just put it on?"

"What would you do if you're alone with six guys around you, ready to punch you? There was nobody who could help me. No witness"

"Oh."

"Yeah. So I put the dress on, and then Mark pushed me into the girl's locker room. Then Anne suggested I'd dress as a girl and ..."

"What? Who is this Anne? And why does everybody want you to dress as a girl?"

"Mom! Anne is a friend from fashion class. And she suggested it so they could stay with me always. I thought it was better to dress completely as a girl than to go into the boys' locker room as a boy in a dress. So I borrowed some athletic gear from the girls. Anne put some makeup on me, and I told the teacher I'm transgender."

"You told him what?"

"That I'm transgender. That means that a boy wants to be a girl or vice versa."

"I know what transgender means. So you decided on the spur of a moment that you want to live as a girl?"

"Umm, yes."

"And you told people that you're transgender?"

"Yes."

"Are you really transgender? I mean, do you feel that you're a girl? Or is this only so you don't get bullied?"

"So I don't get bullied," I answered meekly.

"Oh, Chris. This is serious business. You can't tell people you're transgender when you're not."

"Anne suggested it because then the teachers would have to let me dress as a girl."

"Do you do everything that this Anne says?"

"Umm ..." I better don't tell Mom about Anne's shopping list.

"Well, we can't change that anymore. Where do we go from here?"

"I live as a girl. I bought some clothes and makeup already, and Paula taught me how to use makeup. At the weekend, we'll shop some more."

"Just like that?"

"Umm, yes?"

"Oh, Chris, you're still so innocent. Being a girl isn't only clothes and makeup. There are a lot of expectations from society. And the bullies won't stop just because you wear girl clothes."

"I know, but at least I will be among friends. Today went much better than I expected."

"You seem determined. Are you really sure you want to do this? You could still say it was a mistake or a prank."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"How long do you want to live as a girl?"

"Umm, until the end of high school? I can't change back with Mark Peterson still around."

"And then you'll just be a boy again? After living as a girl for two years?"

"I don't know. Probably. But perhaps I like being a girl?"

"Hmm, what if your body finally develops more masculine? I mean, I can see you can pull it off now. You are beautiful and look all girl."

I blushed. As a boy, I wasn't used to compliments like that, especially from my mother.

"I don't know how you managed it," Mom continued. "At breakfast, you were still my little boy. And now I see a young woman in front of me, with long hair and all. Is that a wig? It looks very natural."

"No, I got extensions."

"Oh, a more long-term solution. You don't do things half-way, huh? Well, you have to shave your legs. I can detect some hair there."

"Mom! When should I have done that?"

"Okay, you're right. You can use one of my disposable shavers later. Ah, I got sidetracked again. Your body is still soft, but sooner or later, your testosterone will kick in. Then you'll become more angular, more masculine. You'll grow a beard. What will you do then?"

"I don't know. Real transgender can do it too. Take hormones?"

"Hormones have permanent effects. There might be no going back then."

"Mom, I don't know yet. That's still far away."

"You're right. Let's concentrate on the now. I'll look up the rules regarding transgender at school."

Mom picked up her phone and used it for some minutes.

"There, I have it... You're lucky we live in a liberal state. Apparently, you can just say you identify as a girl, and they have to allow you to go to school as one, female bathroom and locker room included. I didn't expect that. I think I'll write a letter to the administration to make things clear. What do you want to be called? 'Christopher' doesn't fit anymore, does it?"

"Umm, just 'Chris'? That can be a girls' name too, can't it?"

"Hmm, what about 'Christine'? It could be shortened to 'Chris.' Or 'Chrissy'?"

"Not 'Chrissy'! Mark calls me that always."

"Well, you can decide."

"I think 'Christine' sounds good as an official name, but 'Chris' for short?"

"Okay, I'll write the letter while you, young lady, should consider getting ready for bed. You'll take much longer in the evening and morning now with makeup and everything. And you have to shave your legs. And put your hair into a ponytail if you don't want to spend hours brushing it tomorrow. Do you know how to care for your hair with extensions?"

"Yes, they came with a pamphlet. And I got a special brush."

Then Mom gave me a big hug. "You know, I'm worried about you. This is all so sudden. But what counts is that you're happy. I love you."

"I love you too."

I was a good girl, said goodnight, and did what Mom told me. Additionally, I prepared an outfit for the next day and put the rest of my new clothes away before going to bed. Somehow, wearing my male pajamas felt strange after spending the whole day as a girl.

* * *

The next morning, I got up an hour earlier than usual to be sure I had enough time. Even though I struggled a bit with my makeup, I had half an hour to spare and used it to prepare a nice breakfast for Mom and me. As usual, we had breakfast together before Mom went to work and I to school. Today she offered to drive me to school so I could drop off her letter before classes. Usually, I walked to school as it was less than a mile.

So I exited Mom's car in front of the school a bit early. Some students were there already, but none of my friends. I was a bit nervous. The previous day I was put on the spot and went with the flow. I hadn't much choice. But now I was dressed as a girl of my own free will.

I had chosen a red plaid skater skirt, a grey shirt, dark pantyhose, and the black pumps I bought the day before. I completed that with my old black leather jacket, the smaller new purse, and a pair of sunglasses. I wanted to appear strong, so I decided not to hide behind the sunglasses and just held them in my hand, put on a smile, and went into the lion's den.

Everything went fine at first. Some people stared or whispered, but I was used to worse. Then I had to pass Mark of all people. At least I wasn't alone in the hallway, and he hadn't noticed me yet.

"There comes the new girl," a guy next to him said.

Mark turned just as I was passing and said, "Wow, what a hottie."

I walked on and hoped he wouldn't notice who I was.

"Mark, that's Chrissy." Well, no such luck.

"What? No way."

Then he ran towards me and grabbed my arm, so I had to stop.

I turned to him and casually said, "Would you please let go of my arm?"

His eyes got big when he recognized me. He looked me up and down, and his crotch was bulging. Then he noticed others watching us and finally let go.

"Thank you," I said and continued on my way. I played it cool, but my heart was racing. Who would have thought that Mark has the hots for me?

2:0 for team Chris.

* * *

I dropped Mom's letter off at the school administration and soon after met my friends. They complimented me on my outfit, hair, and makeup. I blushed again, still not used to compliments.

Anne gave me her breast enhancers, and I made a quick trip to the bathroom to put them in my bra. I looked at my profile in the mirror and liked what I saw.

In my first two classes, I had to explain that I'm transgender again. I got some more comments and questions, but nothing too bad.

At the second break, I had to use the bathroom and met Karen Harris, the cheerleading captain, at the sinks.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "This is the girls' bathroom."

"Don't I look like a girl?"

"Wearing girls' clothes doesn't make you a girl. I know what you're hiding under your skirt."

"Do you want me to use the boys' bathroom dressed like this?"

"No, I want you to wear boys' clothes. This is unnatural."

"Did you ever hear about transgender?"

"I don't buy into leftist propaganda."

"Well, it's the law. I have the same right to be here as you."

"We'll have to see about that."

"Sorry, I have to do my business now. Have a nice day," I said and entered a stall.

Fortunately, Karen then left.

It seems not all girls are on my side, I thought.

* * *

The teachers of the following classes already knew about my gender change. Perhaps because of Mom's letter.

At lunch, Paula asked me about my Mom's reaction.

"Well, I'm still a girl. Doesn't that say everything?"

"So, she's okay with it?"

"She has her reservations, but she supports me. She even wrote a letter for the school administration that I'm transgender."

"Did you tell her the real reason?" Paula whispered.

"Yes. Mom didn't like it but accepted it in the end."

"You're extremely lucky with your Mom. I don't know what my Mom would do if my brother suddenly started to wear girls' clothes. Certainly not say, 'Okay, go to school as a girl tomorrow.'"

"Yeah, you're right. But I was always close to Mom. We only have each other."

"Well, that means we can plan for the weekend," Anne announced. "There is so much to do."

I don't want to bore you with all the details. Basically, the plan was shopping on Saturday, then sleepover at Anne's, and more shopping on Sunday. As it was Friday already, some of the girls had other plans, but Anne, Paula, and Susan had time for shopping, and more would join for the sleepover.

I'm barely a girl for a day and already invited to a sleepover.

After lunch, I met Karen again, and she stopped me.

"It seems I can't stop so-called 'transgender' from using the girls' bathroom after all," she conceded with a frown. "But I've asked around. Something is fishy about you. I know you were still dressed as a boy yesterday morning. Then Mark Peterson gave you a dress, and suddenly you're pretending to be a girl. So is Mark your boyfriend? Are you secretly gay lovers? Is this is all a cover for that?"

I had to laugh out loud. "This is what the rumor mill created? Mark Petersen bullied me for weeks. He's certainly not my boyfriend." But she's awfully close to the truth.

"Still, you don't suddenly become a girl."

"No, but sometimes sudden events make you realize that you are one or make you do something about it."

"This just isn't right. And I'll get to the bottom of it."

Karen scrunched her nose and left.

"What is her problem?" Susan asked. She stood next to me the whole time.

"I don't know. I met Karen in the bathroom this morning, and she didn't want me there, doesn't like transgender."

The rest of the day was less eventful. After I walked home, I was glad to remove my pumps, though. A mile in heels takes some toll.

At home, I tried on my old jeans. They were okay for a boy, but I didn't like them on me as a girl. They were too wide. I cut the legs of one pair and created a new hem to make shorts. It was perhaps a bit rough, but I liked the look. I looked through my other old clothing to see if I could wear them as a girl. I found a few pieces, but I'd have to get a lot of new stuff. To make room for that, I packed all unsuitable clothes into boxes and put them away.

I looked forward to shopping and a sleepover with my friends the next day.

* * *

To be continued