This story is set in Torrey Grover's Educating Special Boys in the Feminist Republic universe and references Beverly Taff's , The Feminine Queendom, set in the same universe.

My Name is Andy Tyler, this is my story I keep a diary every day as I want someone, one day to know what I have lived through.

I carried my diary everywhere. I know it’s dangerous, but if I left it my apartment it would not be any safer. Recently I was stopped by the police and they asked for my I.D card. My card is pink as I am a part transitioned male. After a few nasty remarks about how I was dressed the said that I was harmless and not worth bothering with.

At school I was a shy introvert. I did mix with other boys though. I got into scrapes. We were all punished. They said this was typical male behavior. Fighting among ourselves is why men will never rule. They did not understand, boys do this to sort out a pecking order. When it’s done we all know our place and get along.

I had seen the girls do the same. They did it with cutting remarks about appearance. The plainer girls were the butt of their vicious comments. The girls form of bulling was invisible, but probably worse than the odd kick or punch. I saw Mary Hall crying in the corridor once and wanted to hug her. I knew if I did I would be accused of attacking her and thrown out of school.

Where I did excel was in exams. I loved competition. Competitive sports were banned for boys, they said it brought out our aggression. So exams were the only place I could show what I could do.

At the age of nine, the school contacted my mother and asked if she would consent to my feminisation.

At first I said no, but my mother showed me videos of life in the men’s camps. There were murders, beatings and even torture. These were always shown as male on male violence.

Today I understand the term “spin”. These were video’s designed to encourage reluctant boys to agree to feminisation. They would never show these horrors to a nine year old girl!

When they showed me what life could be like as a woman I freely agreed. They fast tracked me. Soon I was castrated and put on hormones. I was going to school in panties, white socks, a blouse and pleated skirt.

Most of the girls shunned me, but at least Mary Hall spoke to me. One advantage was I could use the library now. I spent all my spare time learning about the world outside the republic. Even with the access I got as a girl most of the internet as well as the library was heavily censored. The librarian told me that it was to stop us being corrupted by patriarchal nonsense.

Even the limited information I gathered I knew we were being lied to. Men weren’t all stupid dangerous brutes.

I did well in my exams at eleven, but at twelve I seem to have lost my drive. When I was a boy I enjoyed exams. It was like fighting, but using my brain. I just didn’t seem to care much anymore.

I failed my advance exam and couldn’t qualify for the STEM course. No one told me about this possibility when I agreed to feminisation. I was brighter than many of the other girls in my class, but they could go on to do any job they were suitable for. All I could hope for now was a job as a caregiver, household domestic or some other job seen as too menial for a woman to do. Men were not trusted to be near women, but us feminised “in-betweeners” were considered safe.

I finished school at sixteen as I wasn’t allowed to go on to higher education. I lived with my mother and started to look for a job that would tax me more than just being a domestic cleaner. I was turned down at every attempt.

Just after my seventeenth birthday my mother died of a brain embolism. I thought I would inherit the house and her money. I was wrong. Her cousin claimed everything, being an incomplete woman, I had only a few more rights than a man. I was going to be homeless.

The rules were that homeless failed feminised males were sent to work camps. I knew what would happen to me at the hands of my brothers. While I wasn’t a full women, the hormones had given me small breasts and a female shape.

I was desperate for any work. The first job I was offered I took. It was at the home of Rosemary Pickering, a member of the feminist elite. She wanted a maid. On my first day she showed me the uniform. I nearly left, but I knew that would mean my next destination was the work camp.

It was a short frilly maids dress. I had never seen one that looked that impractical . Maids clothing was plain and practical. This was all frills, lace and satin. The skirt would almost show my bottom.

“Well are you going to wear it, or are you going to the work camp?” she said.

The she showed me the underwear. Who has heard of underwear as part of a work uniform?

There was a white corset, panties dripping with frills and lace, a pair of black seamed stockings and three inch black high heels. The whole uniform was designed to embarrass me. She knew I had no choice.

She made me change in front of her, when I was about to put on the panties she told me to stop. She reached out and played with my penis for a few minutes. It felt nice, but it remained soft.

“Useless isn’t it? Good, you're a safe useless sissy.”

She walked off laughing. I worked there for six months. I was determined to find another job. She took great pleasure in humiliating me in front of her visitors. She told them all party members should have a sissy maid.

I found a job for a company that hired out cleaners. It was a struggle when I left, as Ms Pickering held back most of my money to pay for my stupid maids uniforms. She told me to be careful, She said she had friends in the court system. Any trouble with the law and I would be back as her sissy maid for life.

I managed to rent a tiny one room apartment, in the oldest part of town. I traveled to different households, cleaned and helped older ladies. Most were indifferent to me. Some though, were hostile and insulted me. I knew there was no point complaining. My favorite was a eighty year old called Pamela Dawson. She talked to me while I worked and looked at me with what I can only describe as pity.

She told me to call her Pam and shared meals with me. The food was much better than I could afford, even though I worked six day a week. I looked forward to cleaning for her. Once she even asked me to have lunch with her on my day off.

Then one day I got a phone call. My phone is the most basic model you can buy. It’s one the agency provides, so they can tell you of any changes to your visits. They even deduct the cost from our salary.

I had left my diary at Pam’s house. Within the pages were all my thoughts. I had written how I could not put up with my life much longer. I could see my future. I could not save any money, so when I was too old to work or too ill, it was off to the work camp for me. I wanted my death to mean something. So I would blow myself up at Rosemary Pickering’s house, along with all her femista friends.

I was just angry when I wrote it, but I knew it was enough to get me a death sentence.

“Come to my house now we need to talk.”

I was a shaking mess when I arrived.Pam hugged me and said.

“Calm down you poor sweet boy, It’s alright, you’re not in trouble.”

I broke down and cried, no one had hugged me for years.

“Come and sit with me I have something to show you.”

She put on a news item on her screen. It was the Australian defence minister explaining how the United Queendom had sent soldiers to kidnap the owner of the patient to gravity disks. There was a possibility of war.

“What has this got to do with me?”

“Well you see the defence minister was a transitioned male, there are transitioned males in positions of power everywhere in feminist countries. Many are not happy about the things that were done to them by the feminist. In their arrogance the feminist governments think all these converted males are happy being female.”

“How does that help me though?”

“It doesn’t straight away, but the cracks are showing. War is all men’s fault they say, yet two feminist countries may be going to war. There are rumors that Anston aerospace stole the design of gravity disks from China. The Chinese have been using them for as long as we have. If the Chinese invented them it shows how far ahead they are. It’s worrying.”

“Why does that matter?” I said

“China is a patriarchal society, the big scary feminist monster. Yet they have an equal education system. They don’t waste the minds of half the population. Intelligent women marry intelligent men. Often they reproduce intelligent children. With a population of one hundred and fifty billion, they could walk all over us.”

“Women don’t marry here, they use sperm from the camps don’t they?”

“Yes, all the brightest boys are converted like you, they never donate sperm. The feminist method is making feminist countries dumber. It was proven by the woman who’s children the United Queendom tried to kidnap. I don’t know who invented the gravity disk, the Chinese or Anston, but I bet there was an intelligent man involved somewhere.”

“It’s all very interesting, but what has my diary got to do with this.” I said.

“I needed to know I could trust you before I could help you. I am a member of an organisation call the Pistil and Stamen Gardening Society. That’s the female and male parts of a flower.It's a silly name, but it seems harmless to the authorities. The PSGS help people like you, people that the feminist have discarded. We have many converted males and sympathetic women in positions of power. Eventually we plan to take power and form a better fairer system. We are going to use the same methods the feminist use, take control of the infrastructure using computers. We are a few years away yet, I just hope we can do it before they drag us into disaster.”

"Will I not have to be sent to the work camps when that happens?" I said

“Before I tell you anymore, I want you to watch this.” She said.

The video showed men with women and children, playing, laughing, and kissing. They looked happy. Men with women at child birth. Men grieving dead partners. Interviews with women where men had sacrificed themselves to save their wives or families. Men playing sports, men singing in pop bands, all things I had never seen. It lasted an hour. i was sobbing by the end.

Pam put her arms around me and wiped my tears away.

“That’s what men and women should be. Men had lost their way yes, they needed reminding of their responsibilities. Not turning into under educated slaves. Even through history women were often the power behind the throne. We kept men from acting on their darker impulses. These feminists have it wrong. Feminism was never about getting rid of men. They see it as women good, men bad. There is good and bad in both. To make something beautiful, like a flower, you need both Pistil and Stamen. Some flowers have only male or female organs, and require a separate flower of the opposite gender to reproduce. We call these Imperfect Flowers. Perfect Flowers, on the other hand, have both a stamen and a pistil, and are able to reproduce on their own. We the PSGS, want our country to be the perfect flower. Women and men together. “

“That’s beautiful, it always seemed so unfair, how badly you could be treated just because you were born a boy. So there are other fairer, countries in the world?”

“Yes, some are like America the way it was before the feminist took over. Some repress women, they have got worse, as they are scared the feminist culture will spread to them.”

“Would you like to leave here and make your way to a male friendly country?”

“Yes, yes please, can I be a man again?”

“With our network, we can sneak you out to China in an empty shipping container with a false back wall. You will be hot and uncomfortable. It will take around thirty days, Do you think you can cope?”

“I would crawl over a mile of broken glass to get out of this hell hole.” I said

Now I’m nearing the end of my journey, the container is being lifted off the ship in China. The PSGS provided me with men’s clothes, a fake passport, male hormones and gold. I feel a slight growth on my chin, my hair is now short and I felt a stirring in my pants for the first time in my life yesterday.

It is going to be difficult, but at least I can face these difficulties as a man.

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