24 TV FICTION CLASSICS "SANDY THOMAS

Soon my goodbyes were said to mother, with a few last minute words of warning to her that I may go nuts here and she better be prepared to 'bail me out'. She just smiled and said that I'd 'do fine' and that she would write me every week, and that I was to do the same.'

Chapter 6, Alone at school.

I spent the rest of the evening unpacking and hanging up my 'wardrobe' and meeting some of my neighbors. Mike had been right. ..some of the seniors were completed submerged in their girl roles. They grumbled about having to wear the stupid trouser uniform at all. It was hard to remember that these fully made-up, long-haired creatures in dresses, skirts and heels were once boys! How weird that these actors should get so "into" their role.

I met Jim and Tod, a couple of new tresses like me. We joked a little about "what we had gotten ourselves into", and generally avoided the topic of dressing like girls. We instead talked about the real girls we saw at Rosemount. I could tell that Jim's and Tod's mothers had done a job on them. Both had plucked eyebrows that created wide eyes which looked at you in perpetual surprise. Jim's long hair showing the obvious results of a roller set. Jim whispered to us, "Can you believe how dedicated the older boys are to feminizing themselves? I could be here a hundred years and I'd never get to enjoying this!"

We all shook our heads in agreement. I wondered what time and this unnatural training would do to us.

Before long, Mike came over and informed us that it was nearing 'lights out' and that we had better get washed up for bed.

We returned to our room and I realized that I didn't have any pyjamas amongst all the "junk" that mother packed. I watched in amazement as Mike opened his closet and selected a floor-length blue silk nightgown. He disappeared around the corner out of my view for a moment, then reappeared draped in the very sexy garment. He undid his braid and sitting down at his vanity began to brush out his long hair. I was startled when he asked me, "Ken, if you wouldn't mind, could you brush my hair for me. We will have to help each other, especially me help you, so why don't I start teaching you now."

His voice had suddenly softened and become a little higher. I could tell that it was "Michelle" speaking. With his long brown hair swept across his cheeks he once again became my 'dreamgirl'. With shaking hands I came over and took the hairbrush from his hands. Following his direction, I began to run the brush through Michelle's luxuriant mane. I guess I did about 100 strokes before he stopped me and showed me how he pins it up on top of his head in a kind of Gibson Girl style,

ACTING LIKE A GIRL -25

before going to wash. He finished the style by tying a ribbon to help the pins hold up his hair. "There, you did an excellent job, Ken." He gave me a wink, then proceeded, "Now let's get you ready for washing up." "Thanks, but I am ready."

"Nonsense," Michelle purred, "Do you want the other senior tresses to show us up? My honor's at stake." My willpower before this lovely creature (even though my brain knew it was a boy!) melted.

"What do you suggest?" I asked timidly.

"Well, lets take a look." Michelle opened my closet and found the three new nightgowns my mother had bought. "This one's perfect." He selected a blue silk one which was very similar to his own. He turned his back and told me to put it on. Mechanically, I stripped off my clothes, even my underwear. I lifted the nightgown over my head and let it slip down over my head, shoulders and chest until its silky smoothness brushed my legs.

Michael turned around and whispered "Beautiful! Now come sit here." He motioned to my vanity. Soon I was the recipient of a sensuous hair brushing. He even managed to sweep my hair up, in a shorter version of his own. Even a matching ribbon was added. Bringing out our matching robes, he indicated that I should take my washing stuff and follow him. "I...can't!" Panic set in.

"Of course you can, Ken. . .by the way, we tresses each have an alternate name. I can't call you Ken now, now can I. What's you're 'other' name?"

"I don't have one," then I remembered my mother once jokingly calling me Miss Catherine. "Well, if I have to have one, Catherine, I guess."

"Catherine, trust me." He gave me one l-o-n-g look that caused my last bit of resistance to give in. I followed him out the door.

The washrooms were a bedlam. There were about a dozen "girls" in various stages of washing up, all giggling and talking in high voices. Some had on face cream, quite a few had their hair up in rollers, all were in nightgowns or female pyjamas. I could pick out the new tresses, because they had the same frightened look that I must have.

My eyes couldn't believe some of the senior tresses! There were a couple, probably seniors, whose nightgowns clearly showed milky, round, feminine breasts! The transparent material left nothing to the imagination, nor could illusion be the cause. These were splendidly formed female breasts standing out with sassy daring on these boy's chests. Their nipples were a nice dark pink, much too distended and noticeable for boys. That wasn't all. Their shapes: soft rounded arms, smooth curved legs and velvety wide hips. Yet they went about their preening as if nothing was out of place.