One Day at St. Charles

He snuck in the door just before the bell rang. He knew everyone was looking at him, but he just headed for his seat. He was about to sit down when the Voice of Doom came from the front of the room.

"George Watson, come here at once!" Sister Maria's voice wasn't loud, but it carried.

Reluctantly, he walked to the front of the classroom and stood there as she looked him over. Sweater, blouse, skirt, knee socks and Mary Janes. His hair in a high ponytail, and the light makeup on his face. His school pack still hung from one shoulder as he'd not had time to set it down at his desk.

"We can't have this. Report to the principal." With that Sister Maria scribbled a note, folded it and handed it to him.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he walked to the door of the classroom and headed for the office.


George made sure the bedroom door was locked. Even though no one else was home, he really didn't want to have anyone walk in on him now.

He undressed down to his briefs and dug a box out from its hiding place. He opened it. Inside was a skirt and blouse. A girls uniform for his school.

It'd been his sister Sally's uniform before she moved on to high school. It was in pretty good shape. He'd nabbed it from the box of stuff going to be donated.

He'd had it for months and would take it out from time to time and look at it. He'd even worked up the courage to try it on a few times.

He took a deep breath and started putting it on. Fortunately, he was small enough to fit it. The blouse hung a bit loose on his chest, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

He wished he had a bra for it, but he wasn't going to steal one from Sally. At least his school sweater was a style that was ok for the girls uniform. Heck, he'd been wearing Sally's sweaters for years. She'd outgrow them and mom would save money by passing them down to him

He always wished he could wear more of the clothes Sally outgrew, but he'd never had the courage to say so. Which was why he'd finally nerved himself up and swiped the uniform from the box of clothes mom had set aside.

He decided to risk it and unlocked the door and made a dash for the bathroom. In the full length mirror he didn't look too bad. The skirt was several inches above the knee. Higher than on Sally, but then again he had longer legs than she did.

While he'd never swiped any of Sally's stuff, he had snooped in her room a few times. He'd never dug through things, just looked at what was in plain sight.

Since they looked a lot alike, he figured that he could use the same makeup she did. So he'd made a list of what she had (and the stuff in their shared bathroom) and bought some of his own.

He went back to his room and dug out the makeup after re-locking his door. He'd practiced every chance he got. Fortunately, he'd had a bit of a clue from the times he'd been able to watch Sally. And from reading the magazines she'd leave laying around the house.

So, it didn't take him too long to do a decent job on his face. He thought he looked pretty good. Then he frowned and reached for the cold cream.

Shortly thereafter he was back to "normal". He started to put things back in their hiding places. Then he stopped. He looked over at the pack he used for his school books and things.

He'd get in so much trouble... But wouldn't it be worth it to do it? Just once? He sat there with the uniform in his hands going back and forth. At last he made a decision.

He put the uniform and some makeup in the pack. Then he went over and did his homework.

Much later, in bed, he took a long time falling asleep.


Next morning he looked over at the pack. He started towards it several times, but in the end, he decided to go through with it. So he put on knee socks rather than his regular socks. He looked at the old pair of Sally's Mary Janes that he'd also swiped from the donation pile. They'd take up too much space in the pack. But he couldn't get away with wearing them to breakfast.

He decided that he'd try heading back up and changing shoes after breakfast.

Somehow he managed to get through breakfast without incident. He faked having forgotten something and ran back to his room and switched shoes. He managed to get out the door without being spotted.

He had lots of time to think on the long walk to school. But the time let him get over most of the fear. He knew there'd be trouble, but the feeling that he had to do this got even stronger.

At last, he was entering St. Charles school. He quickly ducked into the handicapped bathroom. It was unisex and single occupant, so he could even lock the door.

He quickly changed clothes and then applied a bit of makeup. He stuffed his boy clothes into the bottom of his pack.

The mirror showed someone in a slightly rumpled girls uniform. Something wasn't quite right. Oh yeah. He quickly undid the ponytail he wore his hair in (and barely skated by on the dress code with) and re-did it as a girl's ponytail high on his head. He swapped out the black scrunchie for a blue one that matched the uniform colors better.

He checked his watch. It was close to time for the bell. He'd just have time get there and to his seat before it rang. Which was good because it'd mean less time to run into people.

He snuck in the door just before the bell rang. He knew everyone was looking at him, but he just headed for his seat. He was about to sit down when the Voice of Doom came from the front of the room.

"George Watson, come here at once!" Sister Maria's voice wasn't loud, but it carried.

Reluctantly, he walked to the front of the classroom and stood there as she looked him over. Sweater, blouse, skirt, knee socks and Mary Janes. His hair in a high ponytail, and the light makeup on his face. His school pack still hung from one shoulder as he'd not had time to set it down at his desk.

"We can't have this. Report to the principal." With that Sister Maria scribbled a note, folded it and handed it to him.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he walked to the door of the classroom and headed for the office.

He reached the school office all too quickly. He handed the note to the secretary and carefully sat on a chair. He didn't have long to wait before he was called into the Principal's office.

Sister Catherine had a piece of paper in front of her. It looked like the note Sister Maria had him take to the office. She looked up from the note and looked at him with a severe expression on her face.

After a moment she just said "Turn around, slowly."

He swallowed and did so, worried even more.

Sister Catherine sighed. "Mr. Watson. I am very disappointed in you. You should know better. You're a disgrace to the school dressed like that. And you were such a good student."

She continued, "I'm sorry, but this calls for serious punishment." She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out The Paddle. It was a legend around the school. It was very rarely used, but parents did sign the papers allowing it to be used.

George swallowed. This was bad. Really bad. Worse than he'd thought.

"Assume the position."

George had never been paddled before, but he, like everyone, knew the drill. He bent over and grabbed his ankles. All the while praying he'd make it through.

He hear Sister Catherine get up and walk behind him.

"First, the dress code clearly states that skirts are to be no more than one inch above the knee. Second, students are not allowed to wear makeup. And third, uniforms are to be neat and clean. Not looking like they'd been wadded into a ball before being put on."

She paused, "Do you understand your offenses, Mr Watson?"

George's head spun. He wasn't in trouble for wearing the uniform?!

He felt something (probably the paddle) tap him on the rear. "I asked you a question. Do you understand?"

George stammered. "Y-yes, I understand."

"Please repeat the offenses so we are both clear that you understand."

"I-I'm wearing makeup. My skirt is too short, and my uniform is a mess, Sister," He paused and swallowed, then continued. "So... So if I fix those, it's OK to wear a girls uniform?" He cringed as he awaited the response.

There was another sigh from the principal. "Yes, though the church is not in favor of transsexuals and the like, the schools in our diocese do not discriminate."

"So as long as this isn't some kind of joke, you can dress as the girls do. But you'd better be on your best behavior. If you cause the school any embarrassment, you'll be punished."

"Y-yes, Sister.

"All right, let's get this over with."

With that he felt the back of his skirt lifted and placed on his back.

Sister Catherine coughed. "Another infraction. you aren't wearing proper underwear either. That's not something we normally check, but it is in the dress code. White, modest panties and a bra."

George was stunned. "Panties and a bra?"

"Yes. In your case, it'd probably have to be a training bra. We don't allow stuffing bras, and would prefer that girls not wear padded bras."

"Enough, it's time for your punishment."

George tightened his grip and tried to brace himself.

Wham! the paddle struck. George tried not to cry out and started to raise up, but a gentle hand on his back stopped him.

"You have to maintain the position, or I'll have to start over." Sister Catherine's voice was surprisingly gentle.

Wham! Another blow. And another. A dozen in all he later found out.

His skirt was flipped back down. "You can stand up again. Let me help." With that Sister Catherine steadied him as he straightened. He needed the help as he was quite shaky.

He didn't realize he was crying until she offered him a tissue.

"I'd tell you you could sit down, but I expect you'd rather not right now."

That actually got a small laugh from George as he wiped the tears.

"In a moment, I'll be sending you off to the nurse so she can make sure you are OK. She'll also help you get that makeup off and dig out one of the loaner skirts we have for when girls wear a too short skirt to school. Happens a few times every year."

"But first, we have a few things to have a few things to deal with. I'm going to have to call your parents about this..." She stopped as George cringed.

"Easy there. Under the circumstances, we can just tell them that there was a uniform violation, and arrange a meeting. And we can have someone there for you at the meeting. Someone to try to help explain things."

"Even so, you are going to have to talk to them about this."

George nodded. He'd known that he'd have to, and he didn't think it'd be too much worse than just getting yelled at. But it was still scary.

"On a lighter note, George is a bit odd as a girl's name, but not completely out of the question."

At George's stare, Sister Catherine chuckled. "Surely you've read Nancy Drew? One of her friends was a girl called George."

"So I'll leave you to think about whether you are going to be Mr. Watson or Miss Watson. I've got calls to make and you need to see the nurse."

George had a lot to think about as he headed for the Nurse.



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