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Boys Will Be Boys

by Jennifer White

 

In a darkened room on the top floor of a skyscraper in Manhattan, the group of women met. At the head of the table, the oldest woman, her hair graying, smoked a cigarette. The others waited in silence for her to call the meeting to order. She might seem like a kindly grandmother figure, but in fact, she wielded tremendous power. Power over males. And now, she was about to begin more males on a strange journey. One which would lead them towards womanhood.

"Hello ladies" she said at last. "Our last project was a wonderful success. However, we are in need of new ideas. Who has a suggestion?"

"I do" replied a middle-aged woman with the long red hair to her left. She stood up, full of confidence. She had been plotting her idea for quite a while, and it was time to present it to the group.

"Tell us" ordered the old lady.

"It involves education. School has a chance to shape the minds of youth. But I intend to shape more than just their minds. I intend to also reshape their very souls."

"Excellent. Go on."

She looked around the room, nervously. Now her idea would be laid bare for the all of the others to see.

"I want to open the school for 'wayward youth'. That way, we can have them year round. With a summer recess, there is a chance that they might regress. Also, since these children are nothing but trouble, their parents won't be very anxious to get them back, or even visit. They will be ours to do with as we wish."

"Very good" said the old woman. "Now once you have the students, how do you intent to turn them?"

"Boys all have certain innate behaviors" started the woman, clearing her throat. "We've all had children here, haven't we? Weren't your boys rough-and-tumble, no matter how you tried to tame them? By their very nature, boys want adventure. Tom Sawyer is the model of boy's behavior. And boys all want to prove themselves, by competing in sports, fighting, or whatever they can get away with. Even at a very young age, they want to prove their masculinity. They want this, and to get approval from their father figure to validate the results."

"Agreed" said the old woman. "But how will you use this?"

"I will deny them these inner yearnings. I will crush their masculine nature at the very core. With no chance to be a boy, there will be a void. And we will fill it with femininity. We will have girls at the school too, and in time, the boys will come to look up to them as their role models. They will *want* to be girls. And we will be all too glad to help them."

She took a deep breath. There. It was all out on the table now.

 

"We will make it so" said the old woman, with a wry smile on her aged face. "What do you need?"

"I want to buy an old school building in Florida, remodel it to add dorms, hire a staff, train them, and then advertise to start picking up children. We want to make sure we get boys who are young for their grade level, and girls who are old for theirs."

"Why is that?" asked a younger woman, seated across the table.

"Not only do girls mature faster than boys, but by adding an age difference, the boys will have no chance competing with the girls in their grade level. The girls *must* win at all competitions, if the boys are to learn that girls are superior, in every way."

The old woman instructed the treasurer to release the funds, and to have the group make available whatever resources might be necessary. The plan was put into motion.

 

* * *

 

"Mom, don't do this! Don't make me go!" yelled Shane Walton, as he stood at the curbside at the airport. The heat of August in Florida brought humidity and a tropical sun beating down, making it oppressive and hard to breath. The gathering clouds threatened rain, but that would just make it more humid, and harder to bear. Only air conditioning could bring relief here.

Although in the 5th grade, he had been in constant trouble ever since he was in school. He had one discipline problem after the next. He had been suspended from school several times, but that did nothing to slow him down.

His parents were alarmed, and when they found the ad in the mail for a boarding school which promised to correct his behavioral problems, improve his grades, and ready him for his future life, they decided it was in his best interest. When they contacted the school, they were pleasantly surprised that it didn't cost all that much. And so now, Shave was being dropped off.

"Now Mrs. Walton, if you'd sign here, and here, Shane will be under our guardianship" said Peggy Westgate. She was the principal of the school. She brushed her long red hair aside, and smiled. The old woman would be excited to learn that the last student had finally arrived, and class was about to begin.

"Write your mommy" said Mrs. Walton.

"I hate you! You can't leave me like this!" howled Shane in protest.

"It's for his own good. We'll take very good care of him" said Ms. Westgate.

Shane's mom had to stifle a tear in her eye, as she watched her son walk away from her, and into the car with Ms. Westgate. But she had been right, it *was* for his own good. She turned back to the terminal, so she could walk to her gate, and fly home.

 

* * *

 

First off, the very idea of school itself goes against a boy's nature. What young boy wants to sit still for 8 hours? And to be quiet, neat, orderly, and be forced to be nice to the girls? Just a regular school is a challenge to a boy. No wonder they always get in trouble.

But in a regular school, there are some escapes for boys. In classes like English Literature, there are tales of adventure to read, as well as many books in the library which hold their attention, and allow an escape in their mind.

For this reason, Shane's reading list was quite a bit different from that of a normal school. He found that he was required to read Judy Bloom books, and classics like Little Women. In fact, although he didn't yet realize it, ever single reading assignment he had was a book or story where a girl or woman was the main character. There were no heroes, only heroines. He would be reading Ramona the Pest instead of Tom Sawyer.

 

After a few hours of class, Shane had a lot of pent up energy. He was looking forward to gym class, so he could run and blow off some steam. At his old school, for gym he always played sports like basketball, dodge ball and gym, along with running, jumping, and being able to play loudly. But when he got to the gym, he was dismayed to find that they were required to be quiet, keep seated, and only one student at a time participated.

It was way too hot to do anything outdoors, so they were stuck inside. And to make matters worse, the lady who was their gym coach told them that they would be studying gymnastics!

"Why do you think they call it gym?" she said. "You will learn the balance beam, rhythmic gymnastics, and you will learn routines, and floor exercises. To do this, you need to learn balance, grace of movement, and flexibility. To pass this class, you need to do the splits."

 

Shane was aghast. He didn't know why, but he hated what they were supposed to do. Here it was, his once chance to blow off steam, and it was denied to him! And to make matters worse, he didn't even get to run in the halls! Other than going to gym class, instead of the students moving from classroom to classroom, they stayed put, while the teachers moved between rooms. It just wasn't fair!

He went back to his classroom, and looked around. There seemed to be more girls in the class than boys. He wondered why that was. They were all taller than him, and they seemed smarter too. The teachers only seemed to call on the girls, and they all had right answers. The few times the teachers called on Shane or the other boys, it would always seem to be a hard question he couldn't answer. But some stupid girl would know it, which made him look bad. He hated them.

And in fact, other than his teacher for arts and crafts, all of his teachers were women. Shane was watching as Mr. Jackson cut the construction paper into strips. At that moment, the door of the classroom swung open, and Principal Westgate came in.

"Howard! How many times have I told you that you're not supposed to begin the semester with paper projects? You are supposed to start with drawing!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Westgate, I...."

"Don't give me that! Get on your knees, and beg my forgiveness!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Westgate" he said, his voice cracking.

The Principal turned to the class.

"Students, can you see why most of your teachers are women here? You cannot rely on a *man* to do a good job. Men are feeble minded and weak. If you want something done right, you need a woman to do it. I'm afraid I will have to monitor him more closely in the future."

He was still on his knees, trembling before her. As Shane looked on, he felt a strange sensation. Here was Mr. Jackson, a strong man, who kind of reminded him of his own father. But Mr. Jackson was on his knees, being ordered around by Principal Westgate! She made him seem so weak and feeble.

 

All boys look for strong male role models, particularly when they are away from their parents. Now here was Shane, and all the men he saw were in subordinate positions. The janitor was a man. The workers in the cafeteria were men. They all reported to women, and they were all constantly being ordered around. The message was clear: women rule over men.

It made Shane think of all the times at home when his parents had disagreed. Somehow, his mom always got his dad to do what she wanted in the end. She had some sort of power over him, but Shane didn't know what it was, since he was still too young to really be interested in girls. He didn't know how wives can control their husbands by holding out on them in bed when they are really upset.

The school would continue to remold his perceptions of the relationship between women and men. And these lessons would be reinforced and cemented, until he learned that women ruled over men.

 

* * *

 

There is another inner drive, which all boys posses: the need to battle, and to prove themselves. Be it by testing their strength, fighting, running the fastest, throwing the hardest, or upon whichever field they can battle, boys want to compete. Even as grown men, they adopt sports teams as surrogates for themselves, and live vicariously through the wins and loses of their local teams.

At Shane's school, the opportunities to do battles were limited. In gym, you were judged not on how fast you ran, but how graceful you were. You didn't get a prove yourself by throwing a ball or lifting a weight; you had to try and do the splits, or do a dance routine with a ribbon in rhythmic gymnastics.

So of course, Shane was very discouraged because no matter how hard he tried to do his best, the girls were always the winners. The girls won. The boys lost. And his inner frustration started to grow.

It was no better in class: almost every girl got an A or a B. Shane got C's, and many of the other boys got D's. The girls beat the boys on almost every test, every quiz, and every classroom game designed to test knowledge.

Every time Shane's inner male tried to do battle, the results were the same: a loss to a girl. As the weeks went by, bit by bit, he wanted to compete less and less. What was the use in that, if you were always going to lose to a girl? They were better than him at *everything*.

He didn't realize how every facet of the classroom experience was designed just for this purpose! He had no idea how he was being manipulated. All of the girls were at least six months older than him, so they had a double advantage over him. He had no chance against them.

But there was much more to come

 

* * *

 

Boys are natural risk takers. From riding skateboards down the steps, to riding their bikes with no hands on the handlebars, boys like to stretch things to the limit. As they grow older, they'll get fast cars, motorcycles, or other toys to keep this need satisfied.

Every time he tried to take a risk in school, be it by trying to guess the right answer, trying to outdo the girls in gym, or trying to get away with something, he would either lose out to the girls, or something would happen to crush his spirit.

Soon he came to learn that it was bad to take risks, and he started to become fearful of them. He didn't realize how much less he was fidgeting in his chair, and how much less he was even thinking of doing things like running in the halls or playing rough with the other boys.

 

But there was a problem, in that he didn't really have any friends among the other boys. There just wasn't a chance. When it came time for a work group in class, it was always one boy with two or three girls. And the teachers would always put one of the girls in charge. They told him that he wasn't cut out for it.

"Only a girl is suited to lead the group" said one teacher. "Plus, can you imagine a girl taking orders from *you*? I don't think so. No girl is going to respect you, and listen to you. You should learn from them. If you want to be a good student, you should be more like the girls."

 

But it wasn't just there. In the dorms, after class was done, the boys were not allowed to play together in groups. No more than two boys were allowed together...and then only if there were at least three girls with them.

And with all the homework to do, and all the books to read, there was very little time to have fun. So Shane had no real bonding with any of the boys. He had lots of chances to bond with the girls, but they all scoffed at him, telling him how stupid he was, how poorly he dressed, and how inferior he was to them.

"I can't imagine how awful it must be for you to be a boy" said Sally.

"Yeah. I'm *really* glad that I'm a girl" said Debbie.

"Me too. I'd shoot myself if *I* was a boy. Being a girl is *so* much better" added Wendy.

 

* * *

 

Since arriving at the school months ago, Shane's male ego was slowly destroyed. One by one, his inner masculine traits were also being crushed. And now, as Ms. Westgate had predicted at her meeting when she proposed the school, Shane felt a real void in his life. But he didn't yet know what was wrong, or how to satisfy the emptiness he now felt inside.

It was time for the male students to gain a female trait. Nurturing.

 

Girls are born with an inner drive to be nurturing. They are drawn to babies, dolls, and pets because of this. While a boy wants a dog to go running through the woods with, a girl wants a kitty cat to brush, pet, and care for.

Boys play war with their GI Joes, while girls want to dress up their dolls, pretend they are real babies, and pretend to raise them. This was exactly what they were going to learn next, in school.

 

Ms. Green, the teacher for the Health class came in one day with a large box.

"Students, in this box are a set of baby dolls. Your assignment for the next two weeks is going to be to care for the dolls, so you can learn the responsibilities that come with having babies. These are very high tech dolls, containing a computer which will monitor them at every moment. When the two weeks are up, you will turn in your dolls, and I will look at the statistics from the computer. Based on this, you will pass or fail."

"Once you have a doll, you will be measured on how much you hold the doll, versus leaving it alone. There are temperature and motion sensors, so we will know if you are holding it, or leaving it on the floor. We will also be able to see if you hit your doll, drop her, or do anything mean which will of course result in an 'F' being awarded for the class."

"You will feed your doll five times a day from a bottle. Three to four times a day, the computer will release this fluid, so that you will need to change her diaper. You will need to change her outfit every day, at least once, if not more."

"You will be measured on how caring and nurturing you are. When I call your name, come up and get your doll."

 

Shane crossed his arms. He didn't like this assignment one little bit. When she finally called him up, she handed him a doll, and told him that her name was Kathy.

"There is also a microphone inside your doll" said Mrs. Green. You need to talk to her. You will be measured on that. The computer will recognize if you use your doll's name. How hold your doll like this, as you would a baby. And I will go over what you need to do to take good care of her."

 

Like it or not, Shane was being forced to learn how to nurture a baby. It was just one of many similar tactics which would be used, until it became second nature for him.

 

* * *

 

"Why can't I study with you?" said Shane, as Sally and Wendy laughed at him again.

"Because. Look at you! You're a slob. You're poorly dressed. And your hair is a mess."

"They haven't let me cut it since I arrived here. What am I supposed to do?" said Shane.

"I tell you what. Come to our room. We'll put your hair into pretty braids, then we might let you study with us."

"Braids?"

"I didn't think he was cool enough to do it" said Wendy, shaking her head.

"Yeah, he's not cool enough to hang with us anyway. I don't know what I was thinking" said Sally.

"Okay, I'll let you braid my hair!" said Shane.

"Not good enough. You have to *ask* us to do it, and you have to promise to keep it that way."

"Will you please braid my hair?" said Shane. "I promise I'll keep the braids."

He really needed to pass the big test, otherwise he was in for big trouble. Nobody had told him what the punishment was, but everyone implied it was really horrible if you failed to pass a class. He didn't want to find out firsthand, so he really needed to pass the test.

So he found himself in the girl's room, letting them French braid his hair. It was very intimidating being with them. They seemed to do so much better than him at *everything* in school. He didn't measure up very well against them.

"Now can I study with you?" he asked.

"We only allow study partners who wear skirts" said Wendy. "That way, we don't have to study with boys."

"But we'll let you study with us" said Sally, helpfully, "if you'll beg us to let you wear a skirt."

"And you'll have to pretend that you're a girl" said Wendy. "Then you can study with us."

Shane grumbled. He didn't like the idea one bit! But he needed to pass the big test. He had no choice. Plus, nobody would ever know about this, except for the two girls.

"Please, can I wear a skirt?" said Shane.

"We only study with girls" said Wendy. "You need to tell us first. Are you a boy, or a girl?"

"I'm a girl" said Shane, as his face turned bright red. "Can I please wear a skirt? Can I please study with you?"

"Well" said Wendy, "since you *are* a girl, if you wear a skirt, we'll let you study with us. All right. Go put this on, then we'll study."

She handed Shane a red plaid skirt. He went into their adjoining bathroom, removed his shirts, and replaced them with the skirt. Then he joined them.

"We decided that your name is *Sandee*, now that you're a girl. Come on Sandee, lets study!" said Wendy, clapping her hands together.

"Oh Sandee, you're so pretty in your skirt and with your hair braided like that" said Sally.

 

Every day that week, Shane studied with the girls. And every day, they made him dress up, more and more. By the end of the week, he was wearing white nylon thigh high stockings, the plaid skirt, panties, a bra, and a white blouse. On Saturday, they put makeup on his face to go with his braided hair. And on Sunday, they put him into a pair of their black shoes, with a big silver buckle and a moderate heel.

"I have to tell you" said Wendy, "ever since you've been studying as a girl, you've gotten smarter and smarter."

"Do you think so?" asked Shane.

"Yes I do. In fact, I bet if you came to class dressed like you are now, I'm sure the teacher would call on you more often, and you'd do much better in class."

"Oh, I agree" said Sally. "You really should. You look so pretty."

"But what will the boys think?" said Shane.

"Who cares about what they think Sandee? You're a girl now. All you need to worry about, is what the other girls think."

They continued to twist his arm, and work him over. He had no idea that Ms. Westgate had taken the girls all aside, one at a time, and offered rewards to them for any boys they could get to show up to class in a skirt. The first boy to show up in a skirt would earn his mentor girls a week's vacation at Disney. And so Sally & Wendy worked on Shane as hard as they could. Little did he realize that every other boy in his class was now facing similar pressure from the other girls, all racing to get their boys to class in a skirt.

 

On Monday, Shane's defenses crumbed. The big test was at the end of the week, and both Wendy and Sally threatened to kick him out of their study group if he didn't show up to class in his skirt. They gave him a couple of skirts, pairs of panties, bras, and all of the other supplies he would need, so that he'd have his own. He carried them back to his room in a paper bag.

"Remember, if you show up tomorrow morning in those, we'll know you're a girl, and we'll make sure you pass the class. But if you come looking like a boy, well, you're on your own. Get it?"

 

Shane got it. The next morning, he showed up to class wearing the schoolgirl outfit that he had been given. His makeup looked terrible, and he was so nervous that he was a mess. But he was dressed as a schoolgirl.

The teacher went around the room to take attendance. They went seat by seat, in order. When she got to Shane, she called out for him.

"Sandee? Hello, Sandee, are you going to answer me?"

"Oh sorry, here!" said Shane, shocked that the teacher would call him by a girl's name too.

She started to teach as usual, then asked questions of the class. The first one was really easy. By now though, Shane had all but given up on raising his hand. She never called on him, unless it was some impossible question he'd never be able to answer. But much to his surprise, she called him now.

"What is the capitol of New York. Sandee?"

"Albany?" he said.

"Very good Sandee!" she replied. "You are a good student."

She smiled warmly, then moved on to the next question.

Wow! Shane couldn't believe it! He showed up dressed as a girl, and suddenly the teacher started to call on him, and praise him! What a difference! He had been longing to hear praise from a teacher all year, and this was the very first time.

 

The same thing happened for the next class, and the next. But when it came time for Mr. Jackson's class, when he took attendance, he called out "Shane" instead of "Sandee". Ms. Westgate happened to be there, as she often did for his class. She would scold him every day, telling him how stupid of a man he was. When he called Shane's name, she got liviid.

"Howard!" she stormed.

"Yes, Ms. Westgate?" he said sheepishly.

"Her name is Sandee! How dare you insult her by using a boy's name! Now get on your knees in front of her, and apologize this instance!"

Much to his surprise, Shane found his teacher, Mr. Jackson on his knees, right in front of him.

"I'm sorry I insulted you, by implying that you were a boy. You're a girl, and you are much better than I will ever be, because I'm just a man. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me Sandee?"

"Yes" said Shane, shocked at what he was hearing.

"Oh thank you so much!" said Mr. Jackson. "I am indebted to you."

He stood up and faced the class.

"You see class? Girls are kind, and forgiving. Not mean and vengeful like boys. As you learned in history class, wars, disease, death and suffering are caused by men. We should all strive to be better, to be more like women."

 

And then something else happened, which Shane had not expected at all. The principal walked over to his desk!
"Young lady, I just wanted to compliment you on how well you are dressed today. You look very pretty. Your teachers told me today how well you did in class. I am very proud of you today."

She clapped, and got the whole class to clap too. Shane basked in the acceptance and the glow of her praise for the first time. He was learning a valuable lesson: by dressing as a girl, and acting like a girl in class, he did well.

But more than that: now all of the girls wanted to be his friend too. Suddenly he was popular! And it set off a series of shocking events. The other boys had been pressured by the girls to start dressing up in skirts too. He had just been the first one to give in. But by afternoon, there were several other boys who changed into schoolgirl outfits.

And by the next day, virtually *every* boy did the same. They too had the same void within, the same longing, and they wanted so much to be praised, to be liked, to be accepted. But they could only do it by becoming girls. Shane had pointed the way, but now every boy in the school suddenly wanted to dress like the girls, to act like the girls, and to be a girl.

 

* * *

 

Shane was a C- student, but Sandee started to get straight A's. Shane was a problem child, but Sandee was well behaved. Shane was always in trouble, rough-and-tumble, always getting dirty. But Sandee was kind, clean, nurturing, neat, tidy, prim and proper.

By the end of the semester, even Shane was starting to think about himself as a girl. He was allowed to socialize with the other boys now, but they too were all acting like girls. And at all times, there were more real girls present than boys. Shane and the other boys tried the best to emulate, and be like the real girls.

Now, instead of trying to define, prove, and validate his masculine self, he felt peer pressure to define, prove, and validate his *feminine* self. Every day, he became more and more like a girl. And it wouldn't be until the next semester that he was started on female hormones, so that as puberty kicked in, he could start to become a girl physically as well.

 

* * *

 

The group met in the dark room at the top floor of the skyscraper in New York. The results of the school project were poured over and scrutinized. It was pronounced a great success.

"We will start building more of these schools, across the entire country" said the old woman. "As a bonus, the tuition will actually generate more money than we spend on the project. My hat is off to you, Ms. Westgate."

There was a round of quiet applause.

"All right ladies, we need another idea. Who has a suggestion?"

  

  

  

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© 2004 by Jennifer White. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.