Heir to a Title Chapter 16

That weekend became the precursor to Callie’s lifestyle for several years until just before her early teenage years. Then the inevitable happened as her beloved grandfather finally succumbed to his prostate cancer. Ellie had the tragic good fortune to be present at his sickbed with her grandmother, mother and auntie Julia beside her as her beloved Grandpa Harry finally died. Her three cousins entered briefly and paid their last respects then left, but Callista remained resolutely at the bedside even while the family doctor sadly confirmed the old duke’s passing. Finally, Callie bent over to kiss her grandpa their last goodbye and, with some reluctance, she left the bedroom with her mum and gran. In the drawing room she sat hugging her mum as the tears finally broke. They flowed for several hours; Callie had loved her grandpa as no other.

With the inevitability of life and death made clear to her, Callie realised as few children her age were forced to realise that life for her would change beyond all things normal. That year she later became thirteen, the age of ‘Common entrance’ to British public schools. Previous generations of the Denton family had invariably been sent to a major boy’s school of national repute not far from London and the Dowager Duchess was keen for this to continue. So much so that she had previously discussed the subject with Ellie and they had jointly approached the school when Callie was only ten years old. Inevitably the question of Callista’s gender arose in the ensuing discussion and there followed much correspondence between Denton Hall and Eton College.

Having seen Callie’s academic record, the school were naturally keen to accept the future Duke of Denton as a pupil but Ellie and Molly both thought the question of gender identity might prove to be a stumbling block. To their relief they found the headmaster very sympathetic.

“Yes, we do accept some female students in the upper forms but not ordinarily in the lower levels. However you say that biologically Callie is a natal born male.”
Ellie nodded and added.

“Yes, and indeed she is still technically male. Her male parts still function.”

Ellie went on to briefly mention the hereditary issues and the headmaster listened with considerable interest. When Ellie had explained everything the headmaster nodded sagely.

“Hmm, yes. When I read your letter of application with the attendant medical information I decided to read up about transgenderism. The child has got a lot resting on her shoulders. Does her maleness distress her?”

“D’ you mean her still having male parts?” Molly checked.

“Well not only that, but wearing male clothes like our school uniform and suchlike.”

“I think she could manage it at a stretch,” Ellie offered, “but in the privacy of her room she would necessarily seek to revert to femininity. Are the study rooms private? Can she lock her door?”

The headmaster leant back and paused.

“There would be no problem there. The school is well resourced with many excellent foundations. Accommodations can be made both physical and social. We have an excellent policy and we are well resourced to assist children with disabilities, though I hasten to add. We do not consider transgenderism to be a disability in the conventional sense. Obviously we might have to make provision for her privacy needs but that’s exactly what we at Eton are resourced to do.”

“What about the other boys, bullying and stuff?”

“The staff – pupil ratio is very high at Eton and supervision is considerably better than at state schools.”

Ellie nodded with some relief as the Dowager Duchess took the questions further.

“How are those senior girls in the upper forms accommodated?”

“There is a separate house provided. The girls mix for schools, dinners and other essential scholastic activities but they board at the lady house and don’t share preps. However some girls choose to share library with older boys but usually for the intensive pressures of exam preparations. It is their choice and if any boys prove to be disruptive the girls will usually retire to the ladies common room. It’s a very egalitarian arrangement.”

“As a junior pupil will Callie be able to avail herself of the senior facilities?”

The headmaster rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“I’ve seen Callie’s academic record. She’s far ahead of other children in maths and sciences; obviously somebody’s been tutoring her, would that have been you Duchess?”

For a moment Ellie was bemused by the headmaster’s term of address to her. She still thought of Molly as ‘The Duchess’, but now that Harry had died and she was the mother of the only male heir then the Headmaster had presumed her to be the Duchess. Molly was the Dowager Duchess. Then she realised that technically, her sister-in-law, Julia might be more legally the Duchess as she had been married to the older son David. However, with both of Molly’s sons dead, Callum as now legally ‘The Duke of Denton’ and until she married, there was no actual ‘Duchess’. The whole situation was fraught with confusion. She coughed diplomatically as she explained to the Headmaster while Molly nodded agreement.

“Ahem. I’m not actually the Duchess of Denton. Indeed, until and unless Callie gets legally married, there will be no Duchess. Technically, I could be considered the Countess of Denton because Henry survived his older brother and our union produced Callie, or Callum as his official male name. Callum or Callie as she prefers, is the only male heir. It’s going to be complicated.”

The head master could not hide a brief smile as he nodded then added.

“Yes indeed, it is confusing isn’t it? Then might I address you as Countess?”

He glanced sideways towards Molly who nodded approval.

“That would seem the best option,” Molly interjected as Ellie nodded slowly.

The headmaster leaned back and sighed with satisfaction for at this juncture he could be constructive and sympathetic.

“Well here we can at least offer Callum structure and simplicity. Have you not considered entering him for a scholarship? I think he would win one on the basis of this record.”

He tapped Callum’s file respectfully.

“Your child has a remarkable ability in Maths.”

“Like his mother,” Molly added, “Ellie got a first in maths at Cambridge where she met my youngest son Henry; who as you know was an Etonian.”

“Would a scholarship benefit him?” Ellie asked, noting how the pronoun had subtly changed.

“It would expose him to children of like minds, with a more academic outlook. They tend to be somewhat more understanding of other peoples disabilities. They are housed in the one house. College house is the oldest house and all the King’s Scholars are housed there. This tends to prevent incidences of intellectual snobbery as each child can hold his own in schools whilst meeting his equals in library and preps. Furthermore the dame is ever alert to her ward’s needs because some of the scholars come from less advantaged backgrounds and have to get over the culture shock of Eton. I suggest you enter Callum or Callie for the scholarships because if she wins one it gives her some prior respect and status with the other boys. Any measure of status will give her better protection and she can only benefit from that. As you will be well aware, boys between ten and fifteen are possibly the biggest snobs of all.”

Ellie pulled a wry smile as she added.

“So her title won’t be a disadvantage then, either.”

“She’ll soon learn not to bandy it about. This school can be a great leveller. There are plenty of minor royals here from various countries and they soon get the corners knocked off them.”

There was a general chuckle at this remark as a tea trolley was wheeled in and the remainder of the meeting was spent dealing with general matters followed by any special arrangements that might prove necessary during Callie’s attendance. Ellie left feeling relieved and reassured by what she had learned.

“So what d’you think darling?” Molly asked Ellie.

“We can try it. Only Callie can decide in the end.”

And so it was that Callie Denton, future Duke of Denton, went to Eton after successfully winning a scholarship.

~~ooo000ooo~~

“Good morning Countess Denton and this young person is I presume the future duke of Denton.”

Callie nodded and extended her hand as she greeted the house master.

“Yes sir, though I usually refer to call myself Callie.”

“Well indeed,” the house-master nodded, “we are all fully alert to your circumstances and College House will take all the measures to make your attendance at Eton a happy one. Would you like to see your study room?”

Ellie and Callie nodded and followed the housemaster into the house. On the first floor he took them into a corner study with a small self-contained en-suite facility. Ellie’s eyes widened.

“Do all the boys have their own facilities?”

“Not normally countess but we do take extra steps to help students with any disabilities – I hasten to add that we don’t consider Callum’s circumstances to be a disability but we have to protect him.”

“We normally address her by the female pronouns housemaster.”

The housemaster smiled as a flicker of uncertainty crossed his countenance while he explained.

“It’s my intention to speak to all the boys tonight when the new boys are introduced to the house. We also have three other disabled students. One is wheel-chair bound while the other has mobility problems and uses a walking stick. Naturally these two will occupy the ground floor. The third is sight impaired but he can easily climb the stairs. He will occupy the study next to Callie’s. The other study in that corner belongs to the school house captain. He is pop as of right and keeps order in the house.

“Pop?” Ellie wondered so the housemaster explained.

“It’s a school expression for the senior prefects who keep order amongst the boys. If a boy becomes a senior prefect he is called ‘Pop’. And no, it’s not some derivative of pa or father. Callie will spend the first few weeks finding his way around the school and learning all the customs, rules and terminology associated with Eton, not to mention all the different locations.”

The housemaster then turned to Callie.

“Now Callie, do you think you can face meeting the other boys this evening and declaring your circumstances?”

“Well, it’s now or never sir. I’ve got to do it some time, better sooner than later.”

“Well done boy. Later, once we have made sure that there are no problems with any of the boys from college house, I will gradually change to female pronouns and address you as miss, or ‘young lady’. If the boys hear me using those terms it will reinforce the message that each pupil here is an individual with needs and rights but no privileges.”

“What about my study sir, the bathroom thing?”

“For convenience the school will deem you to have a disability when viewed in the light of your gender dysphoria. However, I hasten to add that in reality we know transgenderism NOT to be such. For convenience and organisation your private washing facilities will simply reflect those needs. Just as they do for the other disabled boys on the ground floor. For you and those boys privacy is a need; it only becomes a privilege for the Pop and they have earned those privileges by being elected to pop.”

Callie nodded and the housemaster smiled encouragement before leaving him and his mother to unpack. Eventually everything was stored in its appointed place and Callie changed into the school uniform of tail coat, pinstripe trousers and Eton collar, Ellie reluctantly prepared to leave her child.

“Now if you have any problems you must immediately see your housemaster, d’ you understand?”

“Yes Mummy.”

Ellie gave Callie one last suffocating hug and they made their way to the main hall. There, other boys were making their parental goodbyes. Callie joined the group of new boys as she watched her mother reluctantly take her leave. As the parents finally departed, a low buzz of talk emerged from the boys as they cautiously and nervously made themselves known to each other. In this the scholars were different from the rest of the fee-paying students because they were invariably unknown to each other for they had arrived via the King’s Scholar route and not via the closed world of private ‘prep’ schools. Five minutes after the parents had left, the housemaster called the boys to order. He took a roll call and introduced the group to the house dame and deputy housemaster. Once the roll call was registered, the rest of the scholars entered the hall and the new boys embarked upon the first steps of familiarisation with the many customs and terms associated with Eton’s many traditions.

In the early evening, College House had its first formal gathering where Callie’s dysphoria was finally revealed to the rest of the boys. Callie was both impressed and relieved by the housemaster’s excellent explanations to the other boys. After the various official affairs were completed, Callie was invariably approached by the other boys wanting to know more. Naturally both the housemaster and the dame made sure that they were within earshot as Callie was expected to answer the many questions. She was glad of their attendance for some of the questions were invasive and occasionally even rude.

Firstly she made it clear that in the privacy of her study she would be living somewhat more like a girl and anybody wishing to meet her there, would have to accept and respect her boundaries.

“Will you be wearing dresses?” One boy asked.

“Yes,” Callie replied, “but only in my study.”

“What about underwear, knickers and things?” Another boy asked.

Allie replied quite openly. “Yes, all of the time whether I’m living as a girl or dressed by day as a boy.”

“What about weekends and stuff?”

“I’ll be going around dressed just as the other students except for the underwear,” Callie explained. ”I have no extra privileges in that respect.”

A murmur of consensual acceptance rippled through the boys and eventually the questions petered out. Finally the clock declared ‘lights-out’ and the housemaster made a final declaration.

“Just remember boys that every student’s right to privacy will be respected by every other student, especially in the privacy of your studies. Now off to your studies. Supper is served at nine o’clock.”

Library hour thus broke up as the boys retired to their studies to prepare for the next day. Ellie’s first night at Eton proved uneventful and she started as she meant to go on. Naturally the boys were curious but being primarily of a cerebral bent, they were mostly just that – curious. At supper each new student was invited to give a brief resume about themselves and naturally Callie was asked to explain some aspects of her condition so she tried as best she could. Naturally the housemaster, deputy housemaster and dame were present so there was no immediate threat or danger to her physical well being and at the end of the session, Callie felt much more relaxed. On retiring to bed she wore her favourite nightie and slept well.

In the morning as she dressed for the first full day at college she smiled as she dressed in the formal tails and deftly fashioned her tie correctly. The dame and deputy housemaster met her at the bottom of the stairs.

“Well done Callie. First down and properly attired, in you go.”

Callie entered the dining hall and gazed around until the housemaster called her name.

“Callum Denton?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re on the ‘F’ table for juniors and your place is number four.”

The master briefly pointed it out and Callie went to stand behind her chair. The hall quickly filled up and eventually the house captain took his place at the high table with the masters. Grace was said and a few notices were read before the students sat to eat. Callie was mildly pleased that her place was clearly designated and there was little scope for cliques or ‘gangs’ to evolve at meal times. The only tables without designated places were on ‘A’ table, the equivalent of years twelve and thirteen. The college having deemed that the oldest boys were by that time above the urge to bully the younger boys. The system worked.

For the remainder of the day, the students were too busy scurrying between schools or ‘divisions’ as they each located their respective masters for study. By evening they were too preoccupied with ‘prep’, library and supper to develop any friendships. It was not until the very last hour that the students had a brief chance to socialise.
At this juncture Callie knew that, if there were going to be any boys with issues about her gender dysphoria, then this hour would reveal them. Consequently she was quietly sidling out of the common room towards the privacy of her study when another boy accosted her.

“Are you the transsexual?”

“Yes,” Callie bristled defensively, “what are you?”

“They say you were top of the King Scholarships this year.”

This conversational follow-on slightly threw Callie for she had no idea she had been the most successful scholar. She just assumed everybody simply won a scholarship and that was that.

“How did you know that? I didn’t.”

“It’s in the register come and look.”

Already well attuned to possible traps she refused politely. The last thing she wanted was to be caught alone and attacked.

“I’d rather not; I’ve got some stuff to sort in my study.”

The other boy sensed her suspicion and quickly moved to set Callie’s mind at rest.

“It’s quite safe; it’s in the Library and the Master’s there giving some of the boys advice.”

“What sort of advice?”

“Well some of them haven’t decided on all their divisions yet. He’s putting them through their paces to find any weaknesses.”

Callie was again taken a bit aback by this.

“I’d have thought that King’s Scholars wouldn’t have had weaknesses. They would have to be bright to win their scholarships.”

“Not always Callie, the senior library is just across the corridor, come and see.”

“What do I need to see? I’ve chosen my divisions. I think I’ll go to my study.”

The boy hesitated, seemingly a little hurt as he sensed Callie’s caution.

“You don’t trust me do you?”

“I don’t trust anybody until I’m certain of their intentions.”

The other boy lowered his voice.

“Is it that bad? For transsexuals I mean.”

Callie paused thoughtfully. She had lived a relatively open life because she had attended ordinary state schools before her scholarship. During those early years she had endured many uninvited attentions and several of them had been very unpleasant. Like most young transsexuals, she was very cautious. She was still wondering if this incident was a precursor to some sort of organised attack. The boy sensed her uncertainty and moved quickly to allay her fears.

“Look, my name’s Michael, My study is next but one to yours down the corridor.”

“Nice to meet you Michael, shouldn’t you have introduced yourself by name before invading my privacy and thinking you could simply walk up to me and demand to know my most personal circumstances. How would you have liked it if I had simply walked up to you and asked; Are you the gay boy?”

Then Callie lowered her voice almost to a whisper so as not to alert the other boys.

“What’s worse, how would you have felt if I had been wrong?”

Michael’s jaw fell as he realised that Callie had come within a hair’s breadth of ‘outing’ him.

“How did you know?” He whispered hoarsely.

“I didn’t.” Callie smiled knowingly. “I do now but it matters not a jot to me.”

Michael’s expression changed from fear to relief as he realised that Callie was a very rare bird; somebody who at only thirteen, had already moved beyond the squalid, prurient, schoolboy obsession with all things sexual. Nevertheless he still felt forced to secure his own peace of mind.

“So you’re not going to tell anybody then?” He whispered nervously.

Callie smiled again, almost resignedly then sighed.

“God forbid Michael, the last thing to interest me is you being gay. Get over it.”

“I can’t, my parents don’t even know.”

Callie was already turning to continue her exit towards her study. She just wagged her head slowly with her parting shot.

“Do they have to know?”

Michael was stuck for words.

“I -.”

Then he recovered his senses and stopped to consider Callie’s question. Finally he mumbled an uncertain reply.

“Well - no,” he concluded; “no, I suppose they don’t do they.”

“Well there you are then. Stuff like that should be private anyway. See you.”

“No don’t go, I wanted to ask -!”

It was too late; Callie was already bounding up the stairs to her study. Michael watched the disappearing figure and realised with some relief that it was obvious that the transgendered kid was simply not interested or bothered by Michael’s revelation. It was obvious she was preoccupied with her own issues. He debated following her up to her room but reluctantly turned and re-entered the library.

Inside her study, Callie started sorting out her books and endorsing her year-planner timetable on the back of her study door. Next she stored her books carefully on the shelves above her desk. And put her exercise books and pens in the drawer of the desk. Once the academic business was addressed she turned to the large trunk still sitting beside her bed. Her school uniforms and outfits had already been stored in the wardrobe but finally she had to decide what she would do with her female clothes. She was folding panties and chemises in the bottom drawer when there was a soft knock on her door.

“Who is it?” She called.

“Dame Jane Cullinan. May I enter?”

For a moment, Callie debated closing up her trunk and shutting the bottom drawer but then she decided to brazen it out.

“Damn it, I’m Trans; they know this so it’s no secret.” She thought. “I’ll start as I mean to go on.”

She called out as she was kneeling.

“Yes, come in, the door’s not locked.”

The dame put her head around the door just as Callie had deliberately taken her pretty white ‘trainer’ bras and was openly folding them to tuck them next to her matching cotton panties.

“Oh I’m sorry Callum, I’ll come back later.”

Callie, having already brazened out the first issue, begged her to stay and say what she was going to say.

“It’s all right Miss. I’m nearly finished here. What is it you want?”

“Well I noticed the little incident down stairs just now. Is everything alright?”

“Oh yes Miss. That was a boy called Michael, he was just curious, he wasn’t rude or anything.”

“Good, that’s what I was checking. Are you okay, none of the other boys bothering you?”

“No Miss, so far it’s okay.”

“Good and I see you’re quite at ease with your alternative self. That’s good; we encourage boys to find their full potentials here. D’you want any advice with your clothes? The girl’s clothes that is?

Callie smiled then chuckled slightly.

“My mum and gran have helped me with stuff but thanks for your help. If I have a problem I’ll certainly come to you – and thank you for being so kind.”

She tapped her neatly folded underwear by way of explanation.

“Oh, just one thing Miss. Am I allowed to wash my underwear in my study; you know – the other boys.”

“It’s a bad idea to dry clothes where you are sleeping. That task will be attended to by me. Count it as a little luxury. Your grandmother has sorted that out. I’ll get you a special laundry bag so there is no interference.”

“Gosh, thank you Miss.”

“Well, I think that’s all and I’m glad to see that you’ve settled in, oh, and by the way; you address me as Ma-am, not Miss.”

“Oh sorry Mi- sorry, Ma-am.”

The dame smiled and closed the door behind her. Outside Callie heard her talking to the deputy housemaster David Exeter.

“No problems David. The boy’s settling in well. Are you going to see him?”

“No Jane, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Callie listened to the steps retreating down the stairs then resumed packing her lingerie. After completing the task she changed into her nightie and settled for the night.

In the morning she woke to the alarm and instinctively searched for the shaft of sunlight that ordinarily transepted her bedroom at dawn. There was none and she lay puzzled momentarily until she remembered she was not at home but in her study at her new school. Her window was north-facing and would rarely enjoy any direct sunlight. Philosophically she sat up and paused to stretch before picking her way to the bathroom and commencing her ablutions. On dressing she decided to start as she meant to go on and slipped on a pair of plain cotton knickers before donning the traditional school uniform of tail coat and striped trousers. Once dressed, she tended to see herself as a ‘he’ so he stepped into the corridor to discover he was again one of the early-birds. He sauntered down to breakfast to take his assigned place. The housemaster looked up from the register book and nodded approvingly before remarking.

“Well done boy, are you normally an early riser Denton?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Just remember young man, two hours work before nine o’clock is worth four hours after.”

Callie smiled appreciation and wondered silently.

“But I can’t start breakfast until after grace and for that I have to wait for the tardy-bookers.”

The master seemed to sense Callie’s silent thought and suggested.

“It’ll be ten minutes before the hall fills up. I suggest you take one of the newspapers and read it.”

Callie had presumed the papers were reserved for Pop but she was secretly pleased they were available for anybody. She left the table and took a newspaper to a small room set aside for just such a purpose. The master reminded her.

“When the bell rings, you still have a couple of minutes to return to your place. Get along now.”

She found the short read to be rewarding. Two older boys entered the room and glanced curiously at the early riser. Both boys wore brightly coloured waist-coats that declared them to be members of Pop, the prefects who maintained order in the house. The shorter Pop approached Callie.

“You’ll be one of this year’s in-take.”

Callie looked up and nodded cautiously.

“Are you the boy on the first landing with the single study?”

Again Callie nodded.

“So you have some sort of disability. Are you managing alright?”

Ellie nodded for the first time wondering where the conversation was going.

The other Pop then looked Callie over and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Might I ask what your disability is? It’s obviously not physical if you’re on the first landing.”

Callie paused cautiously then took the bull by the horns. It would become common knowledge anyway and better to ‘get-it-out-of-the-way’ sooner rather than later.

“I’m transgendered.” Callie replied in as measured and calm a tone as she could muster.

Her answer made both Pop fall momentarily silent. Callie resumed her own silence until the Pop loomed over her as the shorter one recovered from the surprise.

“Oh yes, I remember, I heard some other boys mention it briefly after the induction. Do you mean you’re going to change to a girl?”

“Possibly,” Callie affirmed. “Nothing’s certain yet though, I have to wait and see.”

The silence returned as both Pop digested her reply. Then the taller one asked.

“Are you deformed or different ‘down there’?”

“I think that’s young Denton’s business gentlemen, not yours.”

Callie turned her head to see the deputy housemaster filling the doorway. A wave of relief washed over her for she was going to explain but she still wasn’t certain what the Pop’s intentions were. With the housemaster present she felt safe. She spoke to the deputy housemaster.

“Can I explain it now sir?”

The housemaster paused then nodded. “Alright boy but you’ve only got a few minutes before the breakfast bell. I’ll be outside.”

Callie turned to the Pop again.

“For the time being I’m like an ordinary boy down there but things could change later. That might put me in danger of uncalled-for attention and even possible assault. That’s why I’ve got a private study for my protection.”

Both Pop frowned then nodded as the taller one observed.

“So that’s why you’re next door to me. Well don’t worry. In college house were of a more cerebral bent so you shouldn’t get any trouble. You might get problems from the Oppidans during divisions though.”

“If you do,” the shorter Pop added, “don’t hesitate to approach any pop or master. The days of bullying are definitely over at Eton but there are still the occasional idiots around. Come on, there’s the bell.”

Callie followed the Pop out of the little side room then strode briskly to her table. She noted that both house master and deputy were monitoring her progress and she felt much happier as she resumed her allotted place. As she stood behind her seat Michael dashed in just as the clock was beginning to strike. He screeched to a halt beside her as he took his seat in alphabetical ‘sir-name’ order. Ellie grinned as Michael gasped with relief.

“Your tie is a mess. What happened?” Ellie asked.

“It’s a bugger to do in a hurry.”

“I’ll do it for you after breakfast.”

“Thanks Callum. You’re a brick.”

They said grace, took their seats and commenced breakfast. Callie was a light eater and as she stood to return to her study and collect her books, Michael followed her to the bottom of her stairs. There she deftly retied his tie and Michael thanked her effusively.

“Where did you learn to do it so quickly?” he asked.

“My grandfather taught me years ago”

“Oh.”

Michael wondered where Callie’s grandfather might have learned of such things but he let the question lie as he went to collect his own books. Both students met again at the door to College house.

“I’ve got maths now with Williams,” Michael declared. “Where are you?”

“The same,” Callie replied.

They were not surprised to find themselves with another dozen Kings Scholars as they made their ways to the maths school. Several boys checked Callie out as they hustled to division, but none asked any personal questions. In college house the word was already out – rude and invasive questions were off limits. Inside the maths block the Kings Scholars soon found their division and this time there were no appointed chairs. Callie was happy to sit next to Michael who proved an equally capable scholar. It soon became apparent that the pair were the best in their class and that meant the best in their year. Kings scholars were necessarily academic children by the very dint of having won their scholarships. Both students found the work easy at first but the small classes drove the agenda and they were soon working hard to address the lessons that were set.

At lunch the pair were entering the main dining hall when they were approached by some unknown oppidans.

“Are you the queers everybody is talking about?”

Callie sensed Michael go tense with fear but she herself rose to the question.

“No.”

“We’ve heard differently,” one of the oppidans argued.

“Whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably wrong.”

“They said the blond one with long hair was some sort of tranny. Is that you?” The same oppidan persisted.”

“What d’you mean by tranny?” Callie countered.

“You know what tranny means.”

“Yes. I do know - perfectly. I’m wondering if you know. Tell me what you think a tranny is and I’ll tell you if I am one.”

The self appointed spokesman looked around sneering.

“A bloke who wears girls clothes.”

“Not bad, but that would be a transvestite would it not?”

“So you’re not denying it then?”

“Yes I am. You still haven’t explained what a tranny is so I can’t confirm or deny. By your definition you’ve described me as being a bloke who wears girl’s clothes. It appears to me that I’m wearing similar clothes to you, it’s called school uniform so how would that make me a transvestite?”

“You could be wearing knickers underneath. Go on, show us your pants.”

“Fancy wanting to look at a person’s underwear. Are you some sort of pervert?”

The boy reached out to grab Callie by the trouser waist. His fingers just managed to hook onto the belt strap. Callie was long inured to such provocation so she grabbed his extended wrist with both hands and twisted around quickly. The bully found himself forced to buckle to the ground or suffer a dislocated elbow. He tried resisting but Callie’s arm lock was too secure. She twisted slightly further to inflict excruciating pain and her antagonist squealed.

“Ow! Leggo’”

“No.”

“You’ll break my arm.”

“I’ll break your neck if you ever try to de-bag me again.”

At this juncture one of the masters appeared.

“What’s going on here?”

“This student demanded to see my knickers sir. I think he might be some sort of sex offender.”

The master struggled to hide a smile for like all the masters he was aware of Callie’s dysphoria. Furthermore the other boy was older and known to be something of a bully. However, the smaller boy seemed to be having the best of it.

“Let the boy go Denton.”

Callie released her grip on the boy’s wrist and he stumbled backwards as he lost his balance. He sat down with a bump and tried to protect his fall with his hands but when his injured wrist failed to support him he ended up on his side and grunted with pain. Callie stepped back for two reasons; one to show she was obeying the master explicitly and two to make sure of being clear of any retaliation. The master looked down at the bully’s contorted face.

“Did you boy; did you ask to see Denton’s knickers?”

“I was joking sir.”

“Demanding to see a younger boy’s underwear is no joke Oliver! It could be construed as paedophilia and that could land you in prison.”

The master had chosen his words carefully to see what response they would extract from the gathered circle of other students. The ensuing silence told him all he needed to know. The Denton boy had not lied for if he had, the group would have objected.

“My office NOW Oliver! Denton go and get your lunch then report to me after dining.”

“Yessir.” Callie obeyed.