Nancy at the Gym

Born in September, I turned 18 early in my final year of high school. Whilst I really wanted to do well, I could hardly wait to leave. I'd been a victim of bullying since the very first day.

Softly spoken and naturally effeminate, I'd made an ideal target, and not just for my fellow pupils. It was a horrid teacher who'd first called me Nancy, and the name had stuck like glue. To pupils and teachers alike, I was Nancy the nancy.

I hated the name yet, ironically, wanted to be a girl! As a small child I'd prayed every night to wake up a girl. And when adolescence struck the feelings only got stronger. I began shoplifting girls' clothes.

By the time of my final year, I had quite a collection hidden in my room, which I wore around the house when home alone, sometimes venturing further afield. Having long hair and a pretty face, I passed with ease among strangers. The only danger was that I might bump into someone from school.

Of course, it happened. And looking back, it was inevitable..

With my parents safely out of town for the weekend, I'd borrowed a pretty floral dress and a pair of natty heels from my mother's collection, my small feet being much the same size as hers. Then I'd snuck out the back door and down a quiet lane and jumped on a bus going out of town, to a city an hour's drive away.

I'd done this several times before, and always got away with it. I took along quite a bit of cash and bought lots of nice stuff; skirts, dresses and blouses, lingerie and make-up, even a divine pair of ankle boots, the first women's shoes I'd ever bought for myself.

On the bus home I felt truly elated, which was perhaps my undoing. I daydreamed past my nice, quiet stop, so had to drop at a much busier one. As the bus pulled up, I saw several youths mulling about in the shelter..

One of whom was Tracy Mulligan!

Though it was getting dark, she stared at me as if she'd seen a ghost. Open mouthed, she looked like a goldfish, and I'm sure she was struggling to blurt something out, only found herself temporarily struck dumb.

Her hesitation opened a window of opportunity, and I slipped into a quiet suburban street before she'd had time to recover her senses. And yet, I knew the jig was up! Tracy Mulligan was the meanest girl I'd ever met, a worse bully than most of the boys, and that was saying something. She'd helped make my life miserable right through high school, and I knew she wouldn't let such a golden opportunity as this go to waste.

During a restless night, I devised an alibi of a kind. I would claim my cousin had come to visit, and that SHE looked an awful lot like me.

Would it work? I hadn't much confidence, but it was worth a try. And anyway, did it really matter? I mean, what could possibly happen to me that hadn't happened already?

I was about to find out..

For all my fretting, Monday morning passed off uneventfully, except perhaps for a few more evil stares from Tracy Mulligan than was usual. But nothing was said and I began to relax, thinking how dark it had been, and that maybe Tracy wasn't so sure of what she'd seen.

In the afternoon, we took gym class. It was the lesson I dreaded and feared most of all, as it lent an opportunity to boys who weren't even natural bullies to have a go at me. I was by far the weakest and puniest in the class, and they queued up to mock my effeminate demeanour, even those who were hardly more masculine themselves.

But worst of all, the class was taken by two of my most ruthless and persistent bullies! Scott and David were a pair of brutal hunks with biceps bigger than their brains, and they liked nothing better than to make my life hell.

The gym class was the perfect opportunity for them because of course they could lift ten times the weight I could manage, and do a hundred times more press-ups and squats. In most classes, the abuse is limited by a need to follow the lesson, but not the gym class - there, I was the thing to follow! It was like being under a microscope; my every move was watched and mockingly dissected.

On this occasion however, there was a suspicious absence of mockery, which I found even more unsettling.

I soon found out why..

The class over, I showered before returning to the changing room. This was usually an opportunity too good to miss for Scott and David to humiliate me, but today they were conspicuous by their absence. Indeed, for the first time ever, I more or less had the showers to myself.

Before I even stepped into the changing room, I knew something was amiss. It was far too quiet, but with a nervous buzz in the air.

Immediately, I saw Scott and David standing beside my locker. They were grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats, while the rest of the class had formed an excited but obedient mob right behind them.

Nervously, I went to my locker. The mob closed around me, but no one tried to stop me opening it. And I soon found out why. My shirt and trousers had disappeared, and folded neatly in their place were a white blouse, black skirt and pair of green tights.

To explain, the school uniform comprised a unisex green blazer, together with which boys wore a white shirt and black trousers, whilst girls wore a white blouse, black skirt and green tights. And so, the items placed in my locker perfectly transformed my uniform from that of a boy into that of a girl.

"Put it on, Nancy!" Scott bellowed, to an excited murmur from the baying mob.

"It's a present from Tracy," David sneered, "She says you can wear it on the bus!" he added, to a chorus of raucous jeers.

"G-give me my clothes back!" I cried. I was tearful, and whenever I get upset the pitch of my voice gets higher, which only worked the mob up even more.

"Get them yourself, if you want!" Scott chuckled. "They're right out there!"

He pointed to an open window and my heart sank, for I knew it overlooked the schoolyard. Stark naked, I scurried across the changing room to look for myself and there were my clothes, scattered over the rainswept ground in muddy puddles.

"If you want to leave here wearing ANY clothes, you'd better put on the ones Tracy got for you, Nancy!" David jeered, to an outburst of roars and laughter.

There really was no choice. Mr Wilson, who took the gym class, hated those he deemed 'queers' and no one more than me. He liked Scott and David, never called me anything but Nancy, and should I have been fool enough to appeal to him for help, he would certainly have found a way of blaming the whole incident on me.

The choice was stark; I could either leave naked but for my blazer, or put on Tracy's clothes and walk into the school dressed as a girl. Either way, I knew there'd be terrible trouble.

Then Scott punched me..

It was a hard punch on the upper arm, followed by one in the back. "If you don't put those clothes on right now," he threatened, "we're all going to kick the shit out of you!"

From the mob came an excited roar, proving the threat was real. I have always been terrified of violence, and the thought of such a horrible beating quickly made my mind up.

And so, to a furious chorus of jeers and abuse, I put the blouse on, then the tights, followed by the black skirt and lastly my own unisex blazer. They then realized there were no girls' shoes, but Scott decided I should wear my plimsolls, which were deemed reasonably androgynous.

Thus attired, I was marched the length of the school..

They took me the long way round to the headmaster's office, marching down every corridor and past every classroom. To start with, Scott and David stood right behind me with the mob from the gym class following, but as curiosity buzzed from classroom to classroom, the mob got ever larger, till at least half the school was at my back and baying for my blood.

It was ever so noisy, with all and sundry joining the cacophony of abuse. And it wasn't all verbal, there were kicks and punches too, so by the time we reached the headmaster's office, my arms and ankles were a mass of bruises.

It was then I noticed that Scott and David had given the prized spot behind me to Tracy Mulligan. It was she who knocked on the headmaster's door, not that a knock was needed. The commotion had been enough to waken the dead, and Tracy had hardly touched wood before the door swung open and the great man appeared, angry and agitated by the disturbance.

At first, his anger was directed towards Scott and David, who were always in some kind of trouble, and then at Tracy, who was even worse. But after much prompting from the angry mob, he cast his disbelieving eyes towards me, and I quickly became the focus of his wrath.

I shall not dwell too long on the interrogations that followed. Suffice to say that Scott and David tried to claim they had found me in the locker room dressed as a girl, and Tracy tried to say I'd stolen her clothes, but none of it cut any ice. Scott and David received detention, while Tracy was suspended.

And so, I was exonerated..

Yet it was deemed impossible under the circumstances for me to continue at the school! My safety couldn't be guaranteed, so I was sent home until a place could be found for me somewhere else. But strangely, none ever was and my education came to an abrupt end that day.

There are a couple more things I should just like to mention. The headmaster had my clothes retrieved from the schoolyard, but the shirt and pants were far too damp and muddy to wear. In the end, I put the soiled trousers on, but remained in Tracy's blouse and tights. And as no one asked for its return, I kept the black skirt.

Walking home, I was waylaid by Gary. He was absolutely my worst nemesis, a bully I feared far more than Scott and David, though fortunately he rarely noticed me.

But today was different..

"Come with me!" he commanded, twisting my arm to ensure compliance. Trembling, I followed him into the toilet block behind the schoolyard. There, he pushed me into a cubicle, made me bend over a lavatory and ordered me to pull down my soiled trousers and Tracy's tights.

Next, I heard him gurgle and spit I knew not where, after which I felt a novel sensation between my butt cheeks as he pushed his cock deep inside me and thrust it up and down furiously for the short time it took before his warm cum filled my bumhole.

He zipped up and left without another word, taking with him my virginity. I left the toilet in a little pain and thoroughly bemused, never to see Gary again.

Nor was I ever to see Scott, though David I met several times when, no doubt inadvertently at first, he hired me as an escort! But that's another story. As for Tracy, she has four kids from three different men, which I'm sure leaves her little time for mischief.