The Blue Dress - Part 5

by MonicaS

Copyright © 2021 Monica S.

Chris got bullied for being girly and was forced to wear a dress at school. To avoid the bullies, he started to live as a girl with support from friends and official recognition. Chris found some allies to fight the bullies. Now he has to get ready for his first date.

* * *

I thought about what to wear for my date with Lizzie. I wanted something better than the skirt and top I wore to school. The dress from Saturday was too much, though, so I decided on the blue dress which started it all. Even though I was forced into it, I didn't have a bad feeling about it. It's a pretty dress, and I liked wearing female clothes now. Besides, I have the perfect shoes to go with it. So I changed into tan pantyhose, the blue dress, and the blue heels and redid my makeup. I looked about the same as on my first evening as a girl.

Dutch Bros Coffee was too far away to walk in my high heels, so I had to take the bus. I didn't want to be late for my first date, so I put my leather jacket on and started my trip with enough spare time.

The trip was uneventful, and I arrived early. Lizzy hadn't arrived yet, of course. I was getting nervous and was perhaps too eager. I finally stepped inside the coffee shop and found a free sofa in a corner with a view of the entrance. I ordered a latte and tried to get comfortable and calm down. To distract myself, I got my phone out and surfed the net.

Every time a customer entered, I looked up, of course. But each time, it wasn't Lizzie. Would she perhaps not come? I heard a motorcycle arrive, and, when the rider removed the helmet, I saw it was Lizzie, looking cool as heck with a tan leather jacket and sunglasses.

When Lizzie entered, she owned the place. She smiled at me when she recognized me and came over casually. She ordered a coffee with a gesture while passing the counter, so she had to be a regular customer.

"Hi Christine, you look great in that dress," she greeted me and sat down right next to me.

"Hi Lizzy, uhh, thanks," I replied. "You look totally stunning. I didn't know you ride a motorcycle."

"Yeah, I really like it. My Dad rides motorcycles too, and I often rode with him. I got hooked, and instead of a car, I got my bike."

"That's cool. There're not many motorcycles at school. It seems only older guys are riding them nowadays."

"Yeah, I joined Dad on some trips with his club," Lizzie elaborated. "I was the only young woman there."

"I think I'd like to ride a bike too, but I haven't enough money. And my Mom would never allow it."

"I guess I'm a bit spoiled there. I got the bike for my 16th birthday. My Mom wasn't happy about it, but in the end, she accepted it. I never was the typical girl, quite a tomboy, more interested in technical stuff than clothes and dolls."

"I'm quite the opposite, artsy and actually so much into clothes that I'm in a fashion class. You look fashionable, too, though."

"Well, eventually, my appearance became important enough to care about it. I'm still not into skirts or dresses, but I found a way to express my feminity."

"I like your style," I said.

"I like yours too. Quite a change, though. I still wonder how you could do it, one day a boy and the next a beautiful girl. Even on the first day with short hair, you looked all girl."

I was glad we sat in a corner without anybody nearby when Lizzie mentioned my role change. Everybody at school knew, but I didn't want strangers to know.

"It was just because of Anne's makeup and this dress," I said.

"Nah, that's only a part of it. How you moved, how you talked, everything said 'girl' to me. You've been a bit girly before, and the full girl came out once you put on this dress."

"I still see myself as a boy." This was perhaps dangerous to say on a date with a lesbian. But it was crucial. If Lizzie wasn't okay with it, there was no future for us.

"Do you really? Do you want to go back to life as a boy, hide your feminity again?" Lizzie asked.

"Not really, I prefer how things are now. I love wearing dresses and skirts and makeup. I like to be beautiful, even though I still have to get used to people saying that. But my body is still mostly male."

"Mostly?"

"I have gynecomastia, which means I have small breasts," I explained.

"Ah yes, there were rumors. So even your body is unsure if you're a boy or a girl."

"I never thought about it that way, but you're right. But I have my male parts too, and I wonder what you think about that. I mean, won't it be an issue if we go further? You're a lesbian, after all."

"I'm attracted to feminity, and you have it in spades, certainly more than my ex. And I was on the receiving end of a strap-on dildo before, so I'm no stranger to penetration."

I blushed. I didn't expect Lizzie to mention such intimate details.

"You're so cute when you blush," she continued, "still so innocent."

That didn't help with my embarrassment, of course. "I guess I'm a late bloomer. This is actually my first date."

"That's okay. Not everybody should start as early as me. I made quite some mistakes when I started dating because I was too young to understand people. But as a girl, you take the fast lane now?"

"Perhaps. I started less than a week ago but so much happened since then. I hope you don't think I'm rushing this. I didn't expect to start dating so soon. Actually, I didn't expect it at all, especially after I realized straight girls wouldn't be interested in me romantically like this. Not that they were interested much beforehand."

"Welcome to the club. I actually ruined friendships when I hit on straight girls. The situation got really awkward. It was a bit easier once I was out, and other lesbians approached me. But we are not many, and then we lose some members to manhood."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Like my ex. She, umm, he decided to become a man. He got too masculine for my taste. The chemistry was gone. So I'm happy you changed sides to even it out." Lizzie grinned at me mischievously.

"I'm happy you like it."

One thing was certain, if I wanted to have a relationship with Lizzie, I had to commit to being a girl long-term. It wouldn't be fair to go back to boyhood, especially after she had that happen before.

We continued to talk for over an hour. Eventually, it was time to leave, and I announced that I had to catch my bus.

"You want to go home by bus?" Lizzie asked. "I can take you home on my bike if you're up to it, I have a spare helmet."

"I don't want to impose on you."

"It's no problem, I've done it before."

"Okay, I hope it'll work out with my dress."

"You might show off your nice legs. Everything else should be fine."

So Lizzie drove me home on her motorcycle after she explained what I had to do. I had to pull my dress up quite a bit, and Lizzie was right about showing some leg. I might have flashed my panties when straddling the bike, but I doubt anybody saw it. I had to cling tightly to her, which was a nice feeling, and I could get used to that. Zipping through the streets was exhilarating. My legs were getting a bit cold, only protected by thin pantyhose. The ride didn't take long, though, so it was okay.

"Wow, no wonder you got hooked on motorcycles if you rode a lot with your Dad," I said once I got off the bike.

"Yeah. It bonded us together."

"I can see that. I really liked spending time with you. I hope we can do it again."

"Me too. How about Saturday afternoon? A classic date with movie and dinner?" Lizzie asked.

"I'd like that."

"Do you want me to pick you up? Or do you prefer to meet downtown?"

"I liked the ride," I said. "I have to adjust my wardrobe, though."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at 4pm then."

"Okay."

Lizzie then gave me a kiss, straight on my lips.

"See you tomorrow," Lizzie said and was gone before I could process what happened.

* * *

The next day I wore a short skirt and top with pantyhose and sneakers and added my old jeans jacket when I left for school. Nothing noteworthy happened until lunch. I sat with my friends from fashion class when Lizzie arrived.

"Hi, Christine," she greeted me. "May I join you?"

"Hello, Lizzie. Of course," I replied.

"I'm a bit torn," Lizzie said. "Usually, I eat with my LGBT friends, but I want to be with my new friend too."

I smiled. Lizzy referred to me as a friend. "Hmm, perhaps we could join our groups. We started a protection pact to fight against bullying. Your friends are probably targets too. We could join our forces."

"That sounds interesting, what exactly are your plans?"

I explained the concept, and then Anne presented her progress regarding the protection pact.

"I set up a group chat," Anne explained. "We can use it to coordinate, send help requests, or share information. I want to publish the contact info for two accounts to receive join requests. I bought two phones, so we don't have to use our personal accounts for that. I keep one, and Chris can take the other."

Anne had a text prepared on how to join the protection pact. We followed it to install the chat app on our phones, set up our accounts, and join the group chat. Then we discussed how we wanted to address the bullying.

Lizzie was a good fit for my group of friends. I liked lunch with her. She left after the meal, though, to present our protection pact to her LGBT friends.

I used the time to go to Brian and his friends.

"Hi Brian, did you make progress with your friends' manners?" I asked.

"Hi Chris, I think so," Brian replied and prompted his friends.

"Hello Chris, you look lovely today. I hope all is well with you," Jonas said while looking me into the eyes.

"Hello Jonas, thank you, yes."

"Hello Chris, nice to meet you again," Simon greeted me. "You're beautiful as always."

"Hello Simon, thank you. You really made progress. I have a proposal for you." I replied and then explained our protection pact.

"I assume you all have experienced bullying," I continued. "So, I invite you to join our group, but you will have to behave as we have many girls in it."

All three boys liked the idea and planned to come over at lunch the next day.

"I wonder how you can do all this," Brian said. "You were a small boy getting bullied a week ago, and now you're a beautiful and confident young woman fighting against bullying for others. I like you very much. Would you maybe go out on a date with me?"

"Oh Brian, I like you too," I replied, "but I'm attracted to girls, not guys."

"Damn. Perhaps I could wear makeup and a dress like you?"

"Wearing girls' clothes and makeup doesn't make you a girl."

"But that's what you did," Brian said.

I did, didn't I? But I was girly before, even if I didn't see it that way, I though.

"Brian, this is serious. It worked out for me because I was probably a girl on the inside before. You can't change your gender just to appeal to a love interest. Besides, I'm dating somebody else already."

"Damn," Brian said dejectedly.

"Hey, heads up. You'll find the right one for you."

* * *

After school, I went home through the park as usual, when Mark appeared in front of me. I was on a rarely used sidepath with dense bushes on the left and right. I turned around to get away from Mark, but two of his goons were approaching from behind. They must have checked out my way home as this was the perfect place for an ambush. Perhaps I was followed the day before, after all. I had thought that Mark wouldn't dare to attack me in public, but now he caught me alone. They closed in on me, and I had nowhere to run. I couldn't fight back either against three big boys. I felt very helpless.

"There is the little snitch," Mark said. "Did you think you could get me in trouble? The principal wanted to give me a suspension, but my parents nixed that. They are good friends with school board members. Mandatory counseling is all I got. Ha, as if I need counseling. You, on the other side, need to learn a lesson."

With that, Mark punched me in the gut. I doubled over with pain.

"I am the boss, and you're a little worm," Mark continued. "If you act up, I'll stomp you."

Mark was about to hit me again when a dog, a German Shepherd, showed up and barked at him.

"Damn," Mark said. "This isn't over. I can get you anytime."

Mark and his goons retreated while the dog kept near me as if to guard me when an older woman appeared.

"Are you okay, my dear?" she asked. "Did those ruffians hurt you?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. It was only one punch, thanks to your dog."

"Yes, Rex doesn't like ruffians. He's a good dog."

I looked at the woman. She was a bit dirty, wearing scruffy clothing, and had a shopping cart full of stuff with her.

Saved by a homeless woman. This could have turned out badly.

"Can I help you in return?" I asked. "Perhaps a shower? I live nearby."

"You don't need to ... A shower would be good, though."

"I'm Chris, by the way."

"I'm Ruth. Thank you for your offer, people are rarely nice to me."

So I went home accompanied by Ruth and her dog for the rest of the way. I felt safer that way. Mark's assault had rattled me, and I didn't want to be alone now.

At home Ruth showered, and I gave her some of Mom's old clothes to wear while her dirty clothes were in the washing machine. Freshly showered and with clean clothes, she looked a lot better. She told me her life story while we waited for her clothes to wash and dry. Some hours later, Mom came home.

"Hi, Mom," I greeted her. "This is Ruth and her dog Rex, Rex saved me from Mark beating me up. Ruth borrowed some of your clothes while hers are drying. I hope that's okay."

"Hi Chris, hello Ruth. Yeah, that's okay," Mom replied. "But why are your clothes drying?"

"Hello, Ms. Walker," Ruth said. "Your daughter was so nice to offer me to wash my clothes. I'm homeless and don't get to wash them often."

"Oh, okay. Chris, what was that about Mark beating you up?" Mom asked.

"Well, on my way home, Mark and his goons ambushed me and punched me," I answered. "Then Rex came around and chased him off."

"Are you hurt?"

"It was only one punch, it only hurt for a little while."

"The hell with this Mark, we have to stop him," Mom said. "Perhaps we can report him to the police. Ruth, did you see the assault?"

"No, I only saw them running away," Ruth answered.

"Damn it, without a witness, the police won't do much," Mom said. "Chris, report this at school. Even if they can't act on it, they should know."

"Okay, Mom," I replied. "But I'm afraid he'll get me again, I felt so helpless when he punched me."

"Hmm, I can take you to school in the mornings, but we have to leave earlier so that I'm at work on time. Perhaps your friends can drive you home after school."

"Yeah, that could work."

"And you could perhaps learn some self-defense, just in case. I'll look for a course. Also, I have one of those alarm thingies to spare."

Mom gave Ruth some clothes she didn't wear anymore. They happened to have the same size, so they fit well. Ruth ate dinner with us but then left. We offered her shelter, which she declined. She was a nice woman who fell on hard times and didn't want to impose on anybody.

Mom found a two-day self-defense course on the weekend after next that had free spots and booked it for both of us. I attached the alarm thingy to my purse so that I'd be able to attract help in a case like Mark's ambush. Too bad that I couldn't carry pepper spray to school.

I didn't forget the protection pact either and printed Anne's text with the info about it several times, so I could hand it out to students in need.

Sleep came late that night as I thought about what did and could happen again and again.

* * *

The next morning I was still brooding about Mark's attack. I couldn't let him win by hiding, so I decided to dress up extra sexy. I put on one of my low cut bras and created some cleavage with my breast enhancers. For pantyhose, I chose the ones with an overknee look. I donned a low-cut blue top that barely covered the bra and added the short red plaid skirt I wore the week before. My black heels and the leather jacket completed the outfit.

When I arrived at school, it was nearly the same as one week before. I arrived early, dressed very similarly, and wanted to appear more confident than I really was.

I caught a lot of attention from the few students already present. One of them was Mark, who stood in front of me with his mouth open, his eyes alternating between my face, my cleavage, and my legs.

"Hi Mark," I said. "Can't decide if you want to hit me or hit on me?"

"How?" was all Mark could get out.

I laughed and continued on my way. I felt quite safe with everybody watching me. If Mark would attack me, he'd be in big trouble. Nothing happened, fortunately, so I went straight to the principal's office to report on Mark's attack.

"Ah, Miss Walker, lucky that you're here," The secretary said. "The principal wants to talk to you, you can go inside right away."

I wondered what he wanted from me and entered the office.

"Hello, Miss Walker," the principal greeted me. "You're quick, I just asked for you."

"Good morning, Mr. Stevens," I replied and sat down. "I came here to report on Mark Peterson again."

"Oh, what happened?"

"He ambushed and hit me in a park yesterday because of my complaint."

"Oh no. Did you get hurt?" the principal asked.

"I was lucky somebody came by after one punch, and he retreated. I have a written report here."

"Ah, good that you weren't seriously injured. The attack happened outside of my jurisdiction, but I will consider it when dealing with Mark."

"Mark knew of my complaint and bragged that he didn't get a suspension," I told the principal. "How can that be? I thought you're fighting against bullying and want students to be safe."

"Regarding suspension, I was overruled by the school board. I hope to convince the board that more action is necessary, as I got another complaint. I had to tell Mark that there was a complaint about him, but I didn't name you. Perhaps somebody leaked your name, or he guessed. I'll protect the source of the new complaint better."

"I hope so. I convinced other students to report on Mark, and some are very vulnerable. I don't want to be responsible for them getting hurt."

"Me neither. Well, let's get to why I wanted to talk to you. I actually got a complaint about you. Somebody claims that you're not really transgender and are only dressing as a girl to get access to girls' bathrooms and locker-rooms."

"Argh, so Karen Harris actually wrote a complaint," I said.

"I have to protect the source as you painfully experienced, but I can say that it wasn't Karen Harris. I have to investigate every complaint, though. Can you say something about the accusation?"

"As I've written in my first complaint, Mark forced me into a dress, and that was the start of my role change. That's certainly unusual. I feel unsafe in the boys' locker-room and bathrooms, so access to the girls' rooms is a relief. But I live as a girl full-time now and will continue to do that. I went to a sleepover, and everybody accepted me as a girl there. Heck, I even date a lesbian. How could I do that if I'm not transgender? I met Karen Harris in a bathroom, and she has something against me or transgender in general. First, she called being transgender unnatural. Later, she accused me of being an imposter, a boy in a skirt, preying on girls. Ridiculous, but now she's spreading that."

"I see. I'll have a talk with Karen. I think that's all for now."

Now I only have to convince myself that I'm transgender and not a boy in a skirt.

When I left the principal's office, I saw Tim talking to the secretary. I heard him say that he wants to file a complaint and smiled at him. I waited until he was finished and then approached him.

"Hi Tim, I overheard that you filed a complaint. Thank you for that."

"Hi Chris, I hope it doesn't backfire," he replied.

"We'll have to ensure that. Some friends and I have started a protection pact to fight against bullying, look out for each other, and complain if necessary. We have a group chat and meet at lunch. I'd be happy if you and your friend join us." I gave him one of my info texts.

"Really? That sounds good. I'll come over at lunch then."

* * *

I met my friends before the first period started and told them about Mark's attack. They were angry but couldn't do anything, of course. They immediately agreed to drive me home after school, as nobody wanted to risk Mark attacking me again.

When we reached my locker, I found another printed note in there.

Repent and change your way or you will suffer

This wasn't a bible verse but sounded more like a thread. Without knowing who placed it, I couldn't do much about it.

* * *

While changing for phys ed, I noticed some glances in my direction. They seemed almost fearful, and it wasn't that way before.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

There was silence. Finally, a girl answered, "Um, Karen Harris said, that you're an imposter, a boy who just wants to look at naked girls."

I had undressed to my underwear already. My cleavage was on full display while my member was tucked away.

"Do I look like a boy?" I asked. "Do I behave like a boy? Do I leer or stare? Did I do anything to you? Or do I just change here like every other girl?"

"Um, okay, but why would Karen say that if it's not true?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I think Karen just doesn't like transgender. But why do you believe her if you've seen that I'm not as she described me?"

"She's the cheerleading captain. She's very popular, and people listen to her."

"Just because she's popular doesn't make everything she says true. Sometimes people abuse their power. Think about it. If you really have a problem with me changing here, I'll have to address it somehow. Please talk to me then and not behind my back."

That caused some embarrassed looks. I hoped that it was enough to dispel Karen's rumor.

* * *

On the way to my next class, I saw a young boy, probably a freshman, getting intimidated by a larger one. I probably could have ignored it, but because of the protection pact, I decided to intervene.

"Hey, you, leave the kid alone!" I demanded.

The larger boy turned toward me and was actually larger than me, even in my heels. "What do you want, girly? This isn't your concern."

"You are bullying the kid, and we don't want any bullying here," I said. "So, it is my concern."

The bully recognized that I wasn't easily intimidated and that we got quite some attention, so he left with an "I see ya."

"Thanks," the small boy said.

"You're welcome," I replied and then introduced our protection pact and gave him the info text. This was only one little incident, but it was a start. The more members we had, the more bullying we could stop.

* * *

At lunch, the protection pact was too large to fit on one table row, so we had to split. I ended up with Lizzie and the LGBT group, Tim and his friend George joining us. I was happy to see the young boy I helped earlier that day at my table too.

Brian, Jonas, and Simon were there also. Before we sat down, I had to remind Jonas not to stare, though, as my cleavage worked like a magnet on his eyes. They ended up at the tables with the other fashion girls. The girls were successful in recruiting new members too, so I saw some further new and old faces.

We started with a round of introductions. I knew Ralph, of course. Some I've seen in classes but didn't really know, several others were new to me. Lizzie's ex, Ryan, was among the latter and looked like a young boy but had a lower voice than me. I later learned that he was on testosterone for some months already to change from girl to boy. Tim and George came out as gay to us. We were the first group they came out to, which started a discussion on coming out.

We were mostly juniors, but the young boy at my table was indeed a freshman, so we also discussed how to help the younger students. All in all, it was a fruitful meeting of the protection pact.

Team Chris transformed into the protection pact and has grown a lot.

* * *

Susan drove me home after school. I didn't like to impose on my friends but didn't see any other possibility.

When Mom came home, we immediately left for the appointment with my endocrinologist.

At the receptionist, I had the same embarrassing problem with my name and gender as on Tuesday. After some minutes, Christoper Walker was called up, and we entered the treatment room. My doctor looked confused when he saw me.

"Hello Ms. Walker, I was expecting your son, Christopher, not your daughter," he said.

"I am Christopher," I replied.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't recognize you. You changed a lot. The name Christopher doesn't fit anymore. Do you have a new name?"

"Yes, I live as a girl now and go by Christine."

"Okay. Let me change your record. There. I have some transgender patients, so I've seen changes like yours, but usually not so fast and not so unexpectedly."

I hadn't changed after school and was showing quite some cleavage. "Um, this isn't all me. I use breast enhancers."

"Okay, I was a bit worried there. Well, let's see how things developed."

I had to partially disrobe and got probed and measured before I could put my clothes back on.

"Your breast tissue has grown quite a lot more, but no anomalies," the doctor continued. "Your testosterone levels are still low. No significant change in the lab results. Usually, I'd recommend a testosterone supplement in such a case, but I assume that's not what you want?"

Testosterone? That would make me grow into a man.

I shuddered. "No, I don't."

"There is the option to go the other way, hormone replacement therapy with testosterone blocker and estrogen. But I'd need an evaluation by a gender therapist for that. You don't need to do anything, though. There is little harm in keeping things as they are. There'll probably be some facial and body hair growth eventually. Fertility might be reduced. Nothing that can't be handled."

"This is all still new," Mom said. "Chris decided to live as a girl just a week ago. Good that we don't have to take immediate action."

"Just a week?" The doctor asked in astonishment. "You look very sophisticated for that. Hmm, do you have a gender therapist?"

"No," I answered. "I didn't think I'd need one."

"I recommend that you see one. I can give you a referral, and I have a list of therapists in the area."

"We'll take them," Mom replied.

"Okay, I'd like to see you for a further checkup in 6 months unless there are significant changes," the doctor said and then bid goodbye.

We picked up the referral for Christine Walker and the list of therapists at the receptionist and then went home.

At home, Mom called the therapist closest to us. We were lucky that there was a cancellation, and I got an appointment for the next Thursday afternoon.

I pondered my reaction to the testosterone offer. Just a week ago, I'd probably have taken it. I told Lizzie on our date that I identified as a boy. And now I shuddered at the thought of growing into a man?

Perhaps the gender therapist is a good idea, after all.

For now, I enjoyed my life as a girl. I was looking forward to Saturday, to getting my ears pierced, and to my second date with Lizzie.

* * *

To be continued

Please comment. I need feedback to be able to improve. Also, I can address ideas or concerns like the skirt lengths or nose piercing in previous comments.