“You were the uh…boy Rebecca found in the girl’s restroom, is that right?”
I blushed a bit, “Yeah. Sorry about that. The men’s restroom was…”
“I got a report that the toilet was overflowing around that time too. Was that you?”
I had forgotten about that, “Well, yeah, but all I did was flush it. Someone had been sick in there.”
“And yesterday you disturbed the pep rally fighting with Miss LaRue.”
“I wasn’t fighting! She pushed me!”
Principal Arnold just gave me a look, and I shut up. “Is there something going on I need to know about?”

 
“We have a question for you.” It was the redneck Charles Dubois and two other guys who bore more than a passing resemblance to the hyenas in the Lion King, only without the witty repartee.
“Yeah,” one of them said. “we have a question for you.” As if Charles had been particularly clever in calling what the three of them were about to try to do to me a “question”.
“Are you a girl faggot? Or a boy faggot?”
“Yeah, what kind of faggot are you, faggot?”

 
“I thought the boy scouts were supposed to be better than the girl scouts at that kind of stuff.”
I picked up another piece of Salisbury with my fork. “So did I.”
.

Marlon discovers that his situation is much worse than he could have possibly imagined, but assistance comes from unexpected directions.

 
I laughed in spite of myself, but to my horror, it wasn’t my usual laugh. It was higher pitched. A girl’s laugh.
“Ha! I knew it! You ARE a girl.”
I felt something twinge inside me when she said that.

This story is set in an anonymous state in the near future, where surveillance techniques and bureaucracy reign. Could this be what your state will look like then?

 
“Are you okay?” A girl’s voice asked.
I looked around, realized firstly that I had collapsed on a tiled floor, secondly that it was the floor of the women’s restroom.

Cary continues to play with Alan's mind and body

 
I was having great fun with the cheerleaders. “Look at my pom poms, not my breasts! Yaaaaay breasts! I mean pom poms! Watch me kick and show my panties! Yaaaaaaay PANTIES!” You can tell a number of things from this. First, I had (and have) an odd sense of humor. Second, I was perhaps not as sexually mature as other boys my age.

 
Kathy continues upon her path to womanhood with the guidence of her mentor Rebecca

 
What happens when your neighbor invites you over for dinner and expects you to pretend to be a family member and better yet, as her six year old daughter!