I can't believe this she...

"But I... That's not the way... It just happens! I'm not doing it on purpose!"

The walk to St. Mary's wasn't all that long but the skirt flipped up, or tried two at least 5 times. I hate skirts. Still it gave me time to think. Was I really acting like a girl? No not really I was my normal self, shocked silly half the time into situations that make fiction look tame. It wasn't like I was trying to be a girl, still it does explain why people assume I'm a trans girl right away even though I'm not. Gonna have to work on that tomorrow.

As I walked onto the Academy's grounds I was met by the headmistress Ms. Bain. Okay its not really Ms. Bain its like Barnes or something but I think of her as bane as in bane of my existence. She escorted me to the room for Deportment class. I was not alone, it would seem three girls from my school were also there, in the same uniform that isn't quite the uniform. At a guess St. Mary's took offense to the protest.

Now most would think, like me, that a deportment class is all about walking around with a book on your head. How to sip tea with your finger out and so forth. All that "proper young lady" stuff from tv. Well it's not. It's more about how to be a woman and not be a fake man actually. Let me try that again.

In many situations women have a tendency to behave and/or dress like the men around them in order to be accepted as an equal peer. This is more of how to be a step above the men around you, while still being clearly a woman and proud of it. Kinda like how a woman will show up in a power suit of a yellow top and black skirt and be taken as a women in charge vs a secretary. The class is spent showing us various screens, on an impressive overhead display of very good quality probably a samsung with his ress and a gnarly system to back it up as there was no lag, what was I saying again?

Oh yes how the screens showed one women vs another who had same jobs but by their dress you could tell one was more serious than the next. This changed to how a bearing also made a difference and so forth. Sam would get a kick out of this stuff she always slumps her shoulders.

The one thing they did make us do was sit with our knees together and backs straight on the edge of the wooden chair the whole time we sat. That was hard work especially for me. The girls giggled at me a few times when the teacher would come stand next to me until I put my knees together. And here I thought I acted all girly before, apparently not.

By the end of the class my back was aching along with my thighs. I would need a hot soak in the bathtub tonight to be able to move tomorrow. At the end we were to get up and curtsy, yes curtsy, to the teacher and thank her for the class. I just about, I didn't but I seriously thought about it, tell them where to shove the curtsy.

Some of the girls stuck around to chat with me asking me all these questions about being trans. Questions I had no answers to since I wasn't. I answered as best I could even said that the pharmacist was looking for my prescription of birth control pills. Not sure why they wanted to know that or why they offered to give me some pills in the meantime, I refused of course. I did find out the girls from my school had actually been caught wearing skimpy clothes to school which was why the protest got them sent here. Something about making a real lady out of them or something.

I did manage to extricate myself after a bit and get to the front doors. Waiting to pick me up was not mom that I expected but dad. When did he start smoking cigarettes? I got into the car and sat down for the drive home. I forgot my bag with my normal clothes at school so there I sat in the car with my legs closed in a short skirt with my dad smoking.

"When are you gonna stop this shit Bill? Your a guy for christsakes."

"Tell me about it. I keep trying to be a guy and somehow end up being a girl instead. It's not my fault dad."

"Then why are you still wearing that costume!" he was getting mad.

"School is locked and my bag is in there. You want me to go around naked?" I would too if he kept this up.

"No! No. It's just ... Look Belle this is ... I'm not all comfortable with this. Is this like.. uh how do I say this. Do you think your a girl or something?"

"What no! Dad it's not like that its just clothing."I don't know why but I looked over at dad. I wish I hadn't for the first time ever I saw tears in his eyes. Tears I know I had caused somehow. The rest of the ride home was silent.

Once I got home I ran upstairs and got changed out of every piece of female garb possible. I even scuffed up my eyebrows so they didn't look so feminine. Once I had on my regular clothing, yes I wore a hoodie they are comfy and the pocket is nice for holding stuff, I returned downstairs. Supper was subdued, the lasagna was good even if its just store brand with extra cheese. We watched the regular stuff on tv and thankfully I was not mentioned in the news today. I think the guy had the night off, or got fired.

I was waiting for the shoe to drop from my parents and they didn't disappoint. They came into my room, both of them, after I had taken off my shirt to check my chest. It doesn't look like it has gone down if anything its bigger. So right away mom started in on me.

"Belle put on a top or something!" which I did before I even thought about why.
Dad just had big eyes. He didn't say anything he just stood there which was worse than him saying anything.

"Dad! Say something to me!" i shouted at him.

"I I...I'm going to go to the store." and he left! I don't know why but that hurt. I started to cry it was like my own parents wouldn't believe me anymore. Mom just pulled me into her and I cried.

"It's snot fair! Mum I try and try to be a boy but things just keep happening to me and it's like nobody believes me to be a boy. Why can't I be a boy? Why tell me why!"

"Oh honey it may be you try to hard. I don't know but it makes things so hard for us honey. Right now all we seem to see is our daughter Belle with no sign of our son. Even tonight you made an effort to appear boyish but really you looked like a girl trying to be a tomboy. Your father is upset as he doesn't know what to do. He wants you to be the son he has believe he always had. But like me he sees a daughter he didn't know he had. We both know your our son and you have told us that you are not a girl but we don't see it. Nobody seems to see it. Seeing you up on that stage in that gown you were so beautiful. And after you seemed so free and natural. It was like seeing a butterfly released from a cocoon."

"But mom I'm not a girl, I'm not trying to be a girl it just keeps happening. Today the counselor told me I act and talk like a girl. But I don't! I'm a boy and I just wanna go back to being Bill. God must hate me!" mom's sweater was soaking up my tears.

"Oh honey god doesn't hate you. I believe this is a test for you. I believe that what is happening will somehow make you a better person in the future."

"You said person not man. I'm supposed to be a man mommy!" I hadn't called her mommy in years.

"Belle Honey look at me!" It was hard but I sat up from her and looked into her eyes.

"Whatever you are boy, girl, or something else. We will love you! Do you understand?" I nod through my tears.

Now take off your top again and let me see your breasts.

"Mooooom!"I do the pouty kid roll eye thing.

"Well what else do I call them? They looked like a young woman's breasts to me." I hate to admit it even a little but she is right. Reluctantly I remove my hoodie and let her touch them. They are very sensitive and her hands are ice cold. Just feeling her touching them sent something inside me going wow. Yep I moaned.

"That's not right. They don't look swollen like a reaction they look like breasts to me. Even your nipples are bigger than they should be. We will have to let the doctor look at this. This is not right. Stay here I'll be right back." mom padded across the carpet and from the sounds of it went to her sewing/craft/storage room. It doesn't take her long and she returns after a few minutes with her sew tape measure and the Sears catalog. These she puts on my bed and goes to my dresser where from my sock drawer she pulls out one of my new bras.

"But mom I'm not wearing the forms I don't need that!" I want to put on a bra like a hole in my head.

"It's to help me measure something sweetie you can take it off after." she is talking in that light nice voice. It takes me a moment but its the same voice she used with my sister the day she started her first period. It...creeps me out more than a little.

She helps me put on the bra and she puts it on the smallest setting so that it's fairly tight. Then she kinda pulls up my flesh a bit here and there and I almost fill the cups, not full as there is some loose material but more than I bloody well should be able too. Next she takes the tape measure around my chest where the bra band is. Then she does another measurement across the biggest part and looks in the catalog. I do not know what she is doing and out of curiosity look as well. She turns to the back of a catalog and after some flipping comes to a chart by Wonderbra for young ladies. She reads and after a few moments gasps.

"Mom your scaring me what is it?"

"Belle your an A cup."