Womanized

by Nikki Crescent

  “No—the one below it,” I said.

  She leaned forward even further and squinted her eyes even more. Then I watched as her eyes widened. She slowly looked up at me. And then she looked down at my body with her lips slightly parted. “You’re—You’re actually…” She swallowed her words before they came out. She was probably afraid of being fired for being transphobic. She made a big, forced smile and nodded her head quickly. “Okay. Perfect. I’ll let your teachers know, and I’ll have the attendance changed by tomorrow.” Her face was dark red and her gaze was now glued down to her desk. “Who’s next?” she called out awkwardly. So I skirted away, off to my first class. I got a seat at the back of the room. I only got one strange look, and it was from the teacher, right after he got off the phone with the receptionist. He stared at me for a long moment and then he looked away abruptly.

  “Um, class, we—uh—have a new student with us today,” he said. “Kendra, sitting in the back there. I very much hope that everyone can be kind to her. It’s—uh—not easy to start at a new school.”

  Everyone turned to look at me. Some students waved, some said hello, and others smiled warmly. I was surprised. The welcoming was much different than what I got as Kenny. People seemed more receptive towards a new girl than they did a new boy—and maybe that was just the reality of 2019. Girls were in vogue. Girls could do no bad and boys could do no good. I had to admit: it felt nice to be welcomed with open arms.

  Before the end of class, I had three different boys offer to help me with catching up. I even had one boy offer to do my homework for me. “I was new last year,” he said. “I know how hard it can be.”

  As I was leaving the classroom, one of the blondes came up to me. “If you want, you can hang out with me and my friends during lunch.” It was the second time she’d offered, but she had no idea. No one had any idea that they’d seen me before, and no one had any idea that I wasn’t really a girl. And was that because my disguise was so spot-on? Or was it because I actually looked like a girl? I still hadn’t ruled out the possibility that I was really a girl—a girl born with an accidental cock. Maybe I was finally going through female puberty and I was finally learning the truth about myself.

  I had gym class after lunch. I didn’t think it was going to be an issue, until I walked into the gymnasium and the teacher said, “Go get changed into your uniform.”

  I turned around and found myself facing the changing rooms. I nearly stepped into the men’s room when I remembered that I was now a woman. I was expected to go into the women’s room. But I was afraid for a number of reasons. First of all, I couldn’t let anyone see me naked, unless I wanted everyone to know the truth about me. And second of all, I’d never seen a naked girl in real life before. I’d never seen a bare set of tits or an exposed pussy, unless you count pornography. My heart stuttered and fluttered down into my gut. What other choice did I have?

  I carefully slipped into the changing room. And the timing couldn’t have been worse—or maybe it couldn’t have been better. There wasn’t a girl in the room with a shirt on, and there were very few girls wearing bras. I was surrounded by tits. I felt my face turning dark red. I quickly looked at the ground and made my way straight to the corner of the room. I noticed a few girls turning to look at me as I skirted by. “Hey new girl,” said one chick. I looked up and smiled. Her tits were perfect: perky with erect nipples that shot straight forward. The girl next to her had cone tits, which stood up impressively. I suddenly felt a throbbing between my legs. No eighteen-year-old boy should be exposed to a room full of young women and exposed tits. No penis can possibly remain flaccid under the circumstances.

  So once I was in my corner, I made sure to keep my back to everyone. I slipped my outfit out from my bag. I started by slipping my gym shorts on underneath my skirt. Then I pulled the skirt off and stuffed it into my bag. Next, it was time to change my shirt. I pulled off my blouse and then I felt a tapping on my bare shoulder. I quickly covered my chest and looked back.

  A cute brunette was standing behind me. She was wearing a lacy pink bra and matching pink panties. “Hey—you’re the new girl, right?”

  I nodded my head quickly. I was too exposed. What if she noticed my Adam’s apple? Would she become furious? Would the girls murder me for being in their change room? What if they found out my truth in a few days? Surely they wouldn’t be okay with me having seen them all naked. Surely they would make me pay…

  “I just wanted to let you know—Mr. Greenwald, the gym teacher, is a bit of a perv. He gives girls better marks if they show more skin. I don’t know if he knows that he does it. It’s kind of a running joke around here—but I’m assuming you want a better grade, right?”

  I nodded my head, slowly processing what she was saying to me.

  “Here. Put your shirt on,” she said, handing me my own shirt. I had to expose my small tits in order to get the shirt onto my body. The girl didn’t seem to care that my tits were so small. She reached down and grabbed the base of my shirt once it was on my body. She tied it into a cute knot at my sternum. Then she sunk to her knees and rolled up the cuffs of my already short shorts. Her fingers were awfully close to touching my cock, which was still throbbing and possibly starting to grow. But she didn’t notice. “You probably think this is silly, but it’s worth it. If you get an A+ in gym, it will pull your average up quite a bit. It’s one of the little advantages to being a girl. C’mon—we’re going to be late for class. Tie your hair up. Do you have an elastic? Want to borrow one? Here—c’mon.” She turned around and started jogging to the door. That’s when I noticed that she had her shorts rolled up so short that her bum was poking out and bouncing gloriously right before my eyes. I admired how sexy she was. I wanted to be that sexy. I wanted to flaunt my perfect ass in front of everyone.

  I got a little taste of that amazing feeling during gym class. We took turns running laps around the gymnasium: guys first, then girls. While we were running, the guys watched with glowing eyes. Who could blame them? Half of the girls had their shirts tied up and their shorts hiked up, practically making them into panties. We were giving them a free show—and many of them were staring right at me. I tried to fight back the smile, but it was hard, especially after one of the boys whistled at me as I ran by. I was having fun and I felt strangely free. No one knew who I really was, and I really felt like I could do anything I wanted. I could say anything I wanted without having to face any real repercussions. In a way, I was living every young man’s dream.

  CHAPTER IX

  I got changed back into my male clothes at that same spot in the woods, about thirty yards from the road. I used a couple dozen makeup wipes on my face, making sure I got every last little bit of mascara off of my eyelashes. And then I stared at myself closely in my little makeup mirror before continuing on towards Aunt Fey’s house. I’d managed to get all of the makeup off, but now my face was a shade of red from all of the rubbing.

  Aunt Fey was home when I got home. She was sitting on the back deck, watching the waves crash against the shore. I tried to sneak into my room without her noticing, so I could get my outfit out from my bag so it wouldn’t get wrinkled—but she turned around and saw me just as I was reaching for the door handle. “How was school today?” she called out.

  “It was fine,” I said.

  “Come and sit with me for a minute. The weather is so perfect and the waves are so beautiful.”

  I hesitated. Then I put my bag down and started towards the deck.

  “There’s a fresh pot of coffee on, if you want,” she said before I reached that opened back door. I didn’t usually drink coffee that late in the day, but I couldn’t say no to a fresh cup. I got myself a steaming mug of coffee and then I joined Aunt Fey out on the deck. “So school was good?” she said.

  The question took me by surprise. She never asked me how school went, so why was she asking today—the one day that I actually went to school? “It was okay,” I said. “It was just school.”

  �
��Nothing interesting happen?” she asked. And then I noticed that she was grinning slightly. Did the teachers tell her about my name change? Did they somehow reach out to her? Or did she maybe notice her missing outfit? With all of the clothes in her house, how could she possibly notice a single skirt and blouse missing?

  “Not really,” I said. And I realized that I forcing myself to speak in my natural masculine voice. After using nothing but my girly voice all day, it was hard to break. “Just another day of school.” I took a long sip from my coffee. And that’s when I noticed she wasn’t drinking any coffee.

  “Are you having people over?” I asked.

  “No. But I think I’m going to go out in a few minutes. I have some errands to run in town. I’ll probably be out until late, so don’t wait up for me.”

  I sat with her for another five minutes, watching the water. I was excited for her to leave, so that I could try on more of her clothes. But I made a point of looking bored while she was there. I couldn’t help but notice that she never got herself a cup of coffee. Why did she make a fresh pot if she wasn’t going to have any? Did she just make it for me? Maybe she just liked the smell of it. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her with a cup of coffee in her hand. Did she ever drink coffee? Whenever I poured myself a cup, the pot was always full.

  “I better get going,” she said. I watched as she got ready to go. I was half-expecting to catch her filling up a thermos, but she didn’t even do that. She just left, leaving that fresh pot of coffee on its little heating plate. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t think too much into it. It was just coffee, after all.

  While Aunt Fey was out, I tried on four different dresses, four different pairs of heels, and some lingerie I found in a bottom drawer. The lingerie was tight, but it looked so amazingly cute on me—even though I didn’t have my makeup on. I found a long pair of white knit stockings with blue lace bands around the thighs. I put them on, along with a pair of white panties and a grey shirt, and I went to sleep in the outfit, with my bedroom door locked in case Aunt Fey decided to check in on me when she got home (which she’d never done before). I didn’t want to take any chances, but I did want to revel in my feminine persona for just a little bit longer. I don’t know why, but I just felt more comfortable in the feminine getup. It was all so soft and it made me feel so cute, even though there was nobody around.

  It was the next morning when I found myself in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at my bare tits, trying to decide whether or not they looked bigger. They seemed to have more shape to them—they were more filled out, with deeper underside curves. They were even easier to grab—or maybe that was just in my head. But how could they be developing so quickly? Was female puberty just hitting me really hard?

  I was late for school, missing my first two periods because I decided to go to the café before school. I had to do a bit of research on my computer, to see what was possibly happening to my body. I made a post on a medical website, with pictures of my chest, asking for some opinions on what could be happening. I was terrified by the answers. “This is either a troll post or someone has been slipping you lots of hormones,” said the first reply. “People don’t go through changes that quickly, unless they’re on serious hormone therapy.”

  The answers were frustrating. No one on the Internet seemed to believe that the changes were happening suddenly even though I wasn’t taking any pills. They all thought that I was just making a prank post. My thread even ended up getting locked by the site’s moderators. So I went to school feeling annoyed and frustrated. But what if they were right? What if these changes were really impossible without taking hormones?

  During my long walk towards my rural school, I tried to think of possible changes to my diet. I’d read online that there are lots of foods with hormones in them. Apparently milk has lots of estrogen in it—but I hardly drank any milk. In fact, I hardly drank anything at all, save for coffee.

  My heart stuttered and I stopped. The changes started happening shortly after arriving at Aunt Fey’s house—shortly after I started drinking her coffee every morning and eating her food every day. Was she slipping me hormones? And if she was, why was she doing it?

  The theory seemed preposterous, so I pushed it out from my head. There was no way that my aunt had been drugging me secretly for months. There must be some other answer. My ‘actually born a woman’ theory still seemed to be the most realistic, even though the Internet seemed to think that it was biologically impossible.

  It was while I was changing into my gym outfit that I noticed my cock was once again smaller. It was hardly a bulge in my panties now, and my ball sack had shrivelled to half of its original size. It was no longer hard to hide, as long as I didn’t have an erection. I was starting to wonder if it would eventually disappear completely, or if it would turn itself into a pussy. The thought seemed impossible, but my body was apparently already achieving the impossible.

  And it wasn’t just physical changes that I was going through. I was starting to feel different. I was starting to have new fantasies and new thoughts creeping into my brain. I was invited by my new blonde friends to watch the boys’ football practise after school. And while I sat in the stands and watched, I felt strange feelings that I’d never felt before. The team’s quarterback was so handsome, and he was probably twice my size. He looked over at me at one point and smiled. All of the girls started giggling and whispering, and I became completely silent—completely overwhelmed as my heart swirled in circles. But I wasn’t gay—was I? Was I becoming gay? Is it even considered gay if I really was turning into a woman?

  I was confused to say the least. And I was terrified after the boys’ practise when one of my friends gave me a shove and said, “Go talk to him,” as if she knew that I was feeling a strange attraction towards a boy who I didn’t even know.

  I felt my face turning a dark shade of red. He was standing on the side of field, drinking from his water bottle. My friends watched from a distance as I approached. “Hey,” I said. My voice was quiet and weak. But he still heard me. He looked over at me with a big, handsome smile. He took another swig from his water bottle. His sweaty muscles glistened as they caught the light.

  “What’s up?” he said.

  “You’re looking good out there,” I said. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure why. Was it because I was nervous to talk to a cute boy? Or was it because I was nervous that he might figure out my true identity?

  “Thanks. You’re looking good up there,” he said, motioning up at the stands. And I felt my cheeks turning redder. A part of me wished that I could have been like him back when I was a guy: handsome, charming, and confident. No girls ever walked up to me to flirt. No girls ever showed up at any of my after school activities, just to watch me. But another part of me felt strangely comfortable with this new role that I’d found myself in. It was fun being the girl in the stands. I liked being that girl that he looked up to between plays.

  But I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t really a girl. I was only at that school to get my diploma, so that I wouldn’t have to flip burgers for the rest of my life. Why was I wasting time watching football practises? Why was I meandering onto the field to flirt with boys? What was the point of any of this? I should have been at home, finishing my homework and catching up on all of the content that I’d missed, but instead I was face to face with a guy who wasn’t even in any of my classes.

  “Your name is Kendra, right?” he asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “You’re cute, Kendra,” he said.

  I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from getting too excited. I managed to keep my cool. “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’m having a little party this Friday. You should come. You can even bring some friends if you want.”

  “Okay. That sounds like fun,” I said. And I was already excited to go through Aunt Fey’s closets to see what kind of party outfits she might be hiding. I already had some ideas based on what I k
new she had. I definitely wanted to wear those black heels with the gold buckles—and maybe that black lace choker that I saw in that top corner drawer, with the rest of Aunt Fey’s costume jewellery.

  “I’m Ben, by the way,” he said.

  “Kendra,” I said.

  He laughed. “Yeah, I know,” he said. And then I felt my cheeks turn an even darker and warmer shade of red. But he seemed to think it was cute.

  My new friends were all excited for me, and they were especially excited that they were now invited to Ben’s party, where the whole football team would be on Friday night. “Kenny, you’re the best,” one of the girls said. My heart immediately plunged into my stomach.

  My lips parted but I couldn’t muster up any words. I was caught. They knew—but how long had they known for? “W—What did you say?” I finally managed to ask.

  “Kenny—you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I think it sounds cute—better than Ken, and hotter than Kendra.” And then I realized she was just creating a nickname out of Kendra. The fact that it was my real name was just a coincidence. She didn’t know who I really was and she didn’t know that I was really a biological male. And thank God for that.

  When I got home from school that afternoon, Aunt Fey was already out, but there was a fresh pot of coffee on the counter. I went to pour myself a cup, and then I remembered that Internet medical forum. I stared at the coffee pot and wondered if it was possible to slip hormones into hot coffee. I still couldn’t think of a single reason why Aunt Fey would do it, but I found myself searching through the kitchen regardless. I popped open the can of coffee grounds and then I searched through all of the cabinets. I felt relieved that I was finding nothing—and then, in the back of the fridge, I noticed a tinge of orange plastic. I reached back and pulled out three small bottles. I didn’t know what two of them were, but the third one said ‘CONTAINS ESTROGEN’ on it. My heart fluttered, but I managed to convince myself that it was just a coincidence. But what about the other two? I wrote down the names and then I started hiking towards town, even though it was late. I got to that café twenty minutes before it closed, which was enough time to look up the mystery drugs.