Chapter One

"Hey, ya little faggot! What the fuck're you doing in the boys locker room?"
Bobby McKellogg found himself slammed up against the lockers, the boy who stood over him scowling, one fist cocked and ready to slam into Bobby's face if he said the wrong thing. He was used to it. Certain boys always treated him this way. Brian Nelson was the worst of them, though.
"Answer me, faggot!" Brian shoved a hand against Bobby's chest, pushing him harder against the lockers. The metal bit into his back, but he was afraid to say anything. He knew no matter what he said, Brian Nelson was going to hit him. He wanted so much to burst into tears, but he knew he couldn't. Crying at this point, no matter how much his emotions welled up within him just then, would be the worst thing he could do. Everyone would have him pegged for a crybaby. He'd never live it down. He couldn't help it if he was a tenderhearted boy, the term his mother always used when he came home crying over something that had happened, usually at school.
"What's going on here?" Mr. Ashland, the boy's gym teacher and football coach walked into the locker room, saw the scene transpiring and even though he understood why it was happening, knew he had to put a stop to it.
"Brian - in my office. Now!"
Brian Nelson scowled once more at Bobby and slowly pulled back, dropping his hands, still clenched into fists, to his sides. "This isn't over, yet, faggot," he growled. He walked past the rows of lockers and disappeared around the corner. Bobby knew no matter how bad the situation got, Brian would never get punished the way he deserved. He and Tom Walsh, the other boy who tormented Bobby the most, and Brian's best friend, were two of the best athletes in school. Once they hit high school they'd be prime candidates for the football and wrestling teams. Mr. Ashland always wanted to help the "jocks", since he was friends with the high school football coach. He wasn't about to suspend them or give them any kind of punishment that fit their crimes against kids like Bobby.
"You all right, Bobby?" Mr. Ashland reached forward and gently squeezed the smaller boy's right shoulder. His hand suddenly pulled back, as though he realized who he was touching and didn't want to contract anything that might be contagious.
"Sure. No problem, Mr. Ashland. Brian didn't hurt me - physically." Again he felt the tears welling up, filling his lower eyelid. He couldn't even reach up and brush the fluid away without it spilling down his cheeks. Too many other boys still crowded the locker room and would see it, giving them fuel to torment him mercilessly.
Bobby knew no matter what kind of policies against bullying and gender-bashing this school enacted, kids like Brian and Tom would always get away with whatever they wanted to do against kids who were like Bobby - different from everyone else. He didn't know why he was different. It wasn't anything he understood. All he knew about himself was that he was a "gentle boy"; someone who was more feminine in his outlook on life and seemed to get along better with girls than boys. He had never told anyone else he also liked wearing girl's clothes and playing with girl's toys - wearing girl's makeup. Though the desire to be so completely like a girl burned deeply within him, he knew telling anyone, even the barest of hints, would get him more than beat up by a school bully; he would end up the target of everyone, every boy at least, from now until the end of his senior year of high school. He'd be called far worse than faggot from then on.
"Why don't you skip PE today," Mr. Ashland suggested, already pulling away from this student. "In fact, I've been thinking maybe you could skip PE altogether for the semester. How about if you spend this period in the library from now on? Write a report on - ah, the human physiology. Make it at least five pages, with annotated references, okay? When you're done with that report I'll give you another one to write. Mrs. Stanton's expecting you."
"Sure," Bobby nodded. He pulled away from the lockers and headed toward the exit that led to the hallway. The tears finally got their release and started in his eyes; slowly leaked down his cheeks in long rivulets that left wet tracks across his skin. He turned toward a wall of lockers, even though no one else was around, so his tears wouldn't be seen and lifted an arm - wiped the tears away with his sleeve. It was bad enough all the kids in school thought of him as gay - a queer - a faggot, like Brian had called him. He didn't need everyone seeing him cry, too. He kept his face down as he moved easily through the empty hallway. All the other students were in classes. He was the only one free to walk to his next destination. If only he could be alone in the hallways all the time, every day, between every class. Then he wouldn't have to be jostled about by the bullies who took advantage of the fact that no one could possibly prove they had intentionally pushed him or tripped him or even rammed him with their shoulders as they "passed by on their way to class". He was tired of picking his books and papers up off the floor, gathering everything that had scattered every which way when it was knocked - deliberately - from his hands every day. Several times he had ended up with a bloodied nose and black eyes. And other kids wondered why he looked so sad and jittery all the time. At his age he wasn't supposed to "carry the weight of the world on his shoulders", but it seemed like that's exactly what he had to do as soon as he stepped through the doors of this school every morning.
Bobby went to his locker in the hallway. Opened it and withdrew his notebook and other supplies he would need for writing his report. Then he went to the library where the librarian smiled at him as he entered. She already knew him well enough from all the other times he had hidden in here among the stacks of books. Mostly during lunch.
"Hi, Bobby," Mrs. Stanton smiled warmly. "Mr. Ashland told me you'd be coming in here every day during this period. Don't worry about having a pass. Just find a spot and start doing research on your report. If you need any help in locating anything, you know where to find me."
"Thanks, Mrs. Stanton," Bobby smiled weakly. Like most of his female teachers, the librarian, Mrs. Stanton, was friendly toward him. She always smiled and he knew it was genuine. But she was like that to everyone. If she had ever spoken a cross word to any student or spoken in a terse manner, Bobby hadn't been around to hear it. He moved past her desk and toward the tables in the middle of the library. He set his notebook and supplies down and went in search of the books he might need.
While he looked through the books on Human Physiology, Human Anatomy, and other related subjects, he thought about his own particular anatomy and physiology. Why was it he was born different from everyone else? Why was it that even though he was in the body of a twelve year-old boy his desires pulled him toward wanting to be a girl instead? Not just this year, though. Bobby had always been this way. He'd always gravitated toward girls more than boys. He'd always wanted to be a girl.
It wasn't that Bobby was gay, the way everyone else thought he was. He didn't desire sex with boys. On the contrary - he still thought of sex with girls - maybe not as much as most other boys in this school or anywhere else in the world, but he did think about it. His problem was that he looked at the girls who walked about him all day long in school and everywhere else and admired the way they looked - the way they dressed - the way they walked and accessorized themselves with all the jewelry they wore, the frilly, feminine styles and so many other things that girls could do and wear that boys couldn't. He'd always yearned to wear the cheerful colors of girl's clothing; wear his hair longer and up in a ponytail or in curls. He thought sometimes pigtails would be a happy way to wear his hair. He wanted to wear earrings, and not just the simple studs some of the other boys wore, but dangly earrings and big, ornate, gaudy ones like his sister Annie sometimes wore.
It was that fact alone that had caused him to be seen as gay here in school. One day he had borrowed some of his older sister's jewelry and put it on while riding the bus to school. When he got off the bus the others kids quickly took notice of how he was adorned and started making fun of him. That was when everyone started calling him "queer" and "fag", even though he had never dressed like that again. He hadn't understood then why he couldn't wear such jewelry and he still didn't. What was wrong with boys looking colorful and frilly? In nature the most colorful of nearly every species was the male. In comparison the females were always less colorful; lackluster; drab.
Bobby shook his head as he searched through the stacks of books. What if these same kids could see him at home when no one else was around? When he went into his sister's room and tried on her older, smaller clothes that she never wore any longer, looked at himself in the full-length mirror in her room? That would really get the rumors about him going. Those would be deadly rumors.
Once he had found a pair of her pantyhose lying strewn on the floor of her room. He had picked them up and looked at them, trying to figure out what it was about them that attracted him so. He couldn't tell, but he knew he wanted to wear them. He wanted to see his legs and lower torso bound up in nylon, or whatever these were made of, so he could look smooth and sleek like Annie did when she put them on. He had peered in at her a few times when she was getting dressed for a date or going out somewhere special with other girls. Once she had her pantyhose on she always lifted her skirt and ran her hands along the fronts and sides of her legs, feeling the smoothness of her curves. He knew she enjoyed it, because she always sighed so heavenly at those times. Then she always caressed her butt and he found his own body trembling; not because he desired his own sister, but because he longed to know what that feeling was like; to know why she sighed the way she did while wearing these garments.
He had taken them and gone into his own room and locked the door. He wasn't supposed to lock his door, since he shared a room with his older brother, Jordan, but he didn't want anyone walking in on him at that moment, especially Jordan. Bobby had stripped off all his clothes and pulled the too-long pantyhose over his bare legs and up past his butt to his chest. He'd grinned at how big they were on him. Annie was five years older than he was and it wasn't that she was fat, because she was actually very nicely proportioned; it was simply that he was small for his age. Everything looked bigger on him.
He pulled the loose pantyhose tight on his otherwise nude body and ran his hands along the smooth-as-silk material. Wow. That was nice. He liked how that felt. It was - what was the word he had heard other kids use for things that were sexually stimulating? Erotic. That was it. These pantyhose made him feel erotic. He decided he loved that sensation and he did it a few more times all along the fronts and backs of his legs and along his tiny butt. When he ran his hands along the front of his groin, however, that was when he felt the biggest sensation. His whole body shivered. It was like a jolt of electricity had hit his system all at once. He did it again and moaned from the feeling it gave him. He had found his small penis responding and growing slightly larger.
God, this was great, but he'd known he couldn't stay in his bedroom. Jordan would be home soon and if he'd found the door locked he'd pound on it and yell at him until he unlocked it. That always gave his brother the idea he could do anything he wanted to the "little twerp" for trying to keep him out of his own room.
He'd quickly pulled the pantyhose off his body and put on the clothes he'd worn to school that day. He'd opened his door and made sure no one else was around and made a dash to the bathroom. Once inside he'd locked it. This door he was allowed to lock so no one accidentally barged in while he was relieving himself. It was the only room in the house he was allowed to lock. If someone else needed to use the toilet they had to go into his parents' bedroom and on into their bathroom.
He'd removed his clothes once more and pulled on the pantyhose. Then he'd run his hands up and down the front of his body. Every time he'd passed over his groin he'd felt that same electric shock. He'd known it wasn't actually electricity, but whatever it was, he'd liked it and started moving his hands just along that one area. Then he'd begun centering the motion on his penis alone and he moaned again. He'd known he had to be quiet about this, but it was such a wonderfully - erotic - feeling that he couldn't help but moan. He'd started rubbing himself harder and faster down there with the smoothness of the pantyhose the only thing between his penis and his hands. Suddenly he had ejaculated. The action had both pleased and horrified him. Pleased, because he always enjoyed that feeling more than any other feeling. Horrified, because he had gotten his sister's pantyhose all sticky with his semen. Now what was he to do?
Bobby had removed the pantyhose and washed them in the sink, but then they were wet, so he'd wadded them up, gotten dressed, and taken them into his own room where he'd hidden them underneath his bed. He hadn't wanted to keep them; he just hadn't wanted anyone to find out he'd taken them and guess at what he had done in them.
When Annie had gotten home that night she had found her pantyhose missing and asked her mother about them. She had looked all over and couldn't find them, but had never thought to ask Bobby, the youngest of the three McKellogg kids. What would he be doing with her pantyhose?
Bobby sighed as he pulled some books from the library shelves. He looked at the covers and titles and pushed them back into place before pulling out others to look at. He wasn't really all that sure what he wanted. Something on the human body was all he knew. But there were so many areas on physiology to choose from.
What was this? He pulled a book off the shelf and looked at it.
Transgender: The Reassignment of the Sexes
He had heard some things about this. Sex changing, right? Men becoming women and women becoming men. Physically. Legally. So no one could tell the difference.
Bobby flipped through the pages, glancing at the chapter headings and stopping to look longer at the various pictures of the men and women featured within this book - the stories it told about each one and how they had been born male or female and made the decision to become the opposite sex.
Was this for real? Bobby continued flipping the pages, then closed the book and held it against his chest as though the mere physical contact with this book could make his greatest dream a reality.
Were there more books on this subject? He started looking through all the books on the shelves in this section, but this seemed to be the only one of its kind.
Breathless, Bobby took the book back to his table and sat down. He started reading through the chapters more thoroughly, enjoying the stories they told. Some of them made him tear-up, since what they had to say about the lives of these people was so similar to what he was going through right now. But these people had all found the way to change their lives. Make everything different. Make it all the way it should have been from the beginning. From birth.
When that period was over Bobby checked the book out and took it with him to his locker. He pushed it inside and withdrew the books he needed for the rest of his classes. He shut the locker, his heart pounding in his chest as he hurried to his next class. All he could think about for the rest of the day was that book and the people it talked about.
Was it possible that he could do the same thing?
Would his parents let him?
That was going to be his biggest problem, he knew. Telling his parents his deepest, darkest, most thrilling secrets. Then telling them that their "little boy" wanted to become their "little girl", instead.

* * * * *

The above is the first chapter of the ebook I recently published, New Life, by Jackson Williams. It is a biographical account of Brooke McKellogg and can be found both on Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/New-Life-ebook/dp/B004MDLLEU/ref=sr_1_...
and Smashwords.com http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/40703

Hope you enjoy reading it,

Jack