G11

by Sarah Bayen

Part Nine

 

Steve followed Jeanette through to the shower. She had immediately gone across to the cabinets on the wall. "I've marked these out," she said, pointing to some little china notices on the doors. They had not been there that morning, Steve remembered, as he stared at them. They were simply decorated with a spray of mauve flowers, and their names, Jeanette on one, and Steve on the other, in an almost illegibly cursive and feminine script.

"Oh, thanks," said Steve, unsure of how to respond.

"I mean you're welcome to borrow any of my stuff whenever you want," Jeanette went on, opening the door to her cabinet. "But I just thought you'd like somewhere to put your own. I tell you what, you shower first, while I sort out whether we've got enough make up and stuff."

Steve hesitated for a moment, but Jeanette's suggestion seemed sensible enough. He slowly took off his top, and began to undo his bra. "I don't know," Jeanette went on, almost to herself. "We've only been here a few days, and this is already a mess. I'm a real glutton when it comes to make up you know!"

The clasp on the back of his bra came undone, and Steve eased it off his arms, discarding it on the floor. He felt around the back of his waist for the button on his skirt, and undid this, allowing it to slip down as well. Jeanette seemed entirely engrossed in searching through her cabinet, but he was a little reluctant to take his knickers off with her in the room. He turned the shower taps on, and put his hands in to test the temperature.

Jeanette giggled from behind him. "You're not going to shower in your knickers are you?" she asked, grinning at him. He turned around to face her, nervous that she might laugh at the pathetically small bump in the front of the pink nylon. Her eyes, however, were fixed on his chest, and on the scratch he had received earlier that day.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, looking at it. "Is that what Colin did when he groped you?" Steve nodded. "Oh he's such a shit!" She moved over to get a closer look, and screwed up her eyes in sympathy. "That must have hurt," she said, gingerly holding a finger out to touch the scratch. "Still, it's far enough down not to show under your dress," she went on, backing away a little. "It would have been awful otherwise, wouldn't it?"

"Err yes," responded Steve, feeling a little flustered. His nipple on that side decided at that moment to remind him of its bruising, and he winced, and rubbed the side of his chest to relieve the ache.

"Does that still hurt?" Jeanette asked.

"A little bit, but it's getting better," he lied.

She stepped forward again. "It's certainly looking a bit dark." Her eyes went to his right side. "Mind you, they both are." Steve felt helpless as his friend gave him this visual breast examination, and, as was becoming his habit, bit his bottom lip.

"Did you say it had a hard bit underneath," she asked, staring intently at his left nipple now.

"Yes, but it's gone now I think," he said, breathlessly, wishing that she would turn her attention elsewhere.

"Let me have a look for you," she said, holding her hand out towards it.

"No!" he gasped, trying to back away, and finding that there was not enough room to do so.

"I won't hurt!" she insisted. Slowly, the defending arm he had raised to stop her fell limp to his side. Very gently, her fingers probed above and to the side of his nipple, which felt electrified by her touch. His lips parted, and he looked into her face, slightly frightened by what he was feeling. Her gaze, however, was fixed on his chest.

"It does seem a bit hard," she agreed. "I don't know. I remember mine went like that just before they grew. Let's feel the other one."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but no sound would come out. She moved her attention to the right side of his chest, and began her gentle probing there as well. "Does this one hurt as well?" she asked.

"No," he replied, surprising himself by how thin and squeaky his voice suddenly sounded. "No," he said again, in a better voice. "It's only the left one."

"Well this one's got some hard bits behind it too you know," she said, in wonder. "Not so much as the other side, but there's definitely something there." She continued to stare for a while, then took a step back, and smiled. "Well we'd better keep an eye on you I suppose. If they're still sore in a couple of days, you're going to the Medical Centre my girl, even if I have to march you there!"

Steve's mouth fell open in shock, and Jeanette's face lost its smile, which was replaced by a frown of concern. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure it's nothing serious."

"It's not that," Steve heard himself piping. "You called me your girl!"

Jeanette frowned. "Did I? Well, it's only a manner of speech. Anyway, are you going to have that shower or what?" She smiled again, and went back over to the cabinet on the wall. Steve, still flustered from her examination, stood stock still for a while, but eventually got himself together, and slipped out of his knickers and into the shower.

The comfort of the warm water was a relief, as he worried about the lumps behind his nipples. Could Jeanette be right, was he growing boobs? Or was it some strange disease that would kill him before he could get the Machine to cure it? He winced a little as he washed his chest, and his nipples remind him of their soreness. He cleaned his little Willy as well, hoping that he might be able to hide it before Jeanette saw it. It looked so small and flimsy. It hadn't jumped to attention for days now, and he wondered if the Machine had broken it in some way when it diverted the path of his wee. Still, he could worry about that later. The important thing was to keep it hidden from Jeanette. God, she had called him her girl when she was talking about the Medical Centre. If she saw his penis now, she would probably feel entirely justified!

He washed his hair, and switched off the taps. Through the steam on the glass door, he couldn't tell whether Jeanette was still in the room or not, so he opened it gingerly, and reached out for a towel. "Surprise!" said Jeanette's voice, making him jump. Smiling, she handed him a huge soft pink towel. "I got it made up especially for you!" she said, grinning at his face, and ignoring his nakedness. "It's got your name on it, look!"

He looked at the pale pink towel, and saw that in a similar floral script to the notice on his cabinet, his name was picked out in white stitching, garnished with little flowers, and a fairy or two. "Thanks," he said, unsure about the gift.

"That's all right," Jeanette said brightly. "I got myself a matching one too, see!" She enthusiastically held up an identical towel, except with the name Jeanette. Steve rather fussily fastened the towel around his chest, and stepped out of the shower.

"I've done now," he said, rather unnecessarily. "Your turn."

"Okay!" Jeanette said, and began to undress. Steve turned away, and began vigorously drying himself, as his friend stripped to her bra and panties. In spite of himself, he did cast a backwards look as she removed the first of these, and saw that her breasts had indeed grown at some stage, looking pert and soft on her chest. Before he could turn away, she whipped off her knickers as well, revealing herself entirely naked to him. He turned quickly back to drying his own body.

"This is a real pain!" she said from behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she had raised one leg up, and was resting it on the side of the sink, while doing something between her legs. He felt himself blushing again.

"What?" he asked, timidly.

"Having a period when we've got a dance to go to! Still, at least I've not got any spots. Not yet, anyway."

She moved over to where Steve was standing, and placed a hand on his shoulder to move him out of the way. She bent down beside him, and threw something into a disposal chute, and then stood again, "Once I've had my shower, we can give each other a makeover, okay?"

"If you say so," Steve replied, still flustered by the naked girl. She smiled at him, and stepped into the shower cubicle he had just vacated. He began to dry himself; rubbing with the pink towel Jeanette had given him. He was in a particularly embarrassing position, with one leg raised up to dry between his legs, when Sarah burst into the room, with a white towel wrapped around her, and another on her head.

"Hi!" she said brightly, "I've showered now, so I thought I'd come around so we could all get ready together."
"Good idea!" Jeanette's voice came from the shower. "Steve, could you pass me my razor? It's in my cabinet."

Steve's face must have registered his surprise at the request. Was Jeanette growing a beard or something? Sarah giggled. "She wants it to shave her legs," she explained. "Have you done yours yet?"

Steve had taken one step towards the cabinet when he heard this, and stopped in his tracks. Being stuck in a shower with two girls like this was the sort of situation a week ago he would have fantasised about. Now it was happening for real, he was finding it deeply disturbing, especially the ease with which Sarah and Jeanette treated him as one of them. "Err, no." he stuttered, opening the cabinet, and looking amidst all the cosmetics and perfumes for a razor. "I don't think I'll bother."
"Oh but you must!" Sarah exclaimed. "He had to shave his legs doesn't he Jeanette?" she shouted at the shower cubicle.

"Yes!" came a reply. "You have to Steve!"

Sarah looked at him again, as he found the razor, and took it out. "Hairy legs look yucky with tights." She looked down at him. "Not that yours are all that hairy, but they'll certainly look better if you shave them."

"You could wax them!" Jeanette suggested through clouds of steam. "It hurts, but you get a better result!"

Sarah pulled a face, and in a quiet voice advised him. "I wouldn't if I were you. Shaving's just as good, and it doesn't hurt at all."

"Where's my razor?" Jeanette shouted again, opening the door, and holding her hand out of it. Steve stepped forward, and handed it to her, trying to avert his eyes from her obvious wet nakedness. "Thanks," she said, and her hand disappeared back into the steam. Steve carefully shut the door, and turned around.

"Oh God look at that!" Sarah exclaimed, staring at Steve's chest. "Is that what Colin did, that scratch?"

"Yes," Steve replied, self consciously.

"Have you seen the scratch Steve got from Colin? It's dreadful."

"Yes," Jeanette shouted back. "He's a bastard! But I don't think it'll show with Steve's dress do you?"

Sarah turned her head sideways to look at the mark, trying to remember what Steve's dress looked like around the neck. "No," she agreed at last. "I think you'll get away with it. Still, it can't have been very nice. I mean, it's bad enough being groped, but if he did it with his nails as well!" She shook her head in sympathy. "Are your boobs still sore as well?" she asked him.

"No," he lied. "They're feeling all right now."

"He's got some hard bits under his nipples," Jeanette shouted through the cubicle door. She had turned the water off now, and could hear what her two friends were saying clearly. She pushed the door open, and Steve was shocked to see her standing there naked, with soaped legs, and a razor in her hand. "He's a bit worried about them, aren't you Steve?"

"Not really," Steve protested. Jeanette ignored him.

"You feel them Sarah, see you what think."

His eyes met Sarah's, and she smiled at him. He thought about raising his arms to stop her, but in the end could not, and she stepped forward, and untied the little knot he had put in the towel around his chest. It fell down to the floor, and she looked carefully at his right side. After a few seconds, she lifted her hand, and very gently cupped him with it, slowly squeezing around the edges of his nipple.

"Oh gosh yes!" she said, more to Jeanette than him. "There is something hard there, I can definitely feel it."

Jeanette came out of the shower, and stood at the other side of Steve, looking at Sarah's hand. Like him, she was naked, and her breasts pressed against Steve's shoulder. "I thought so," Jeanette agreed. "What do you think it is?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't really know," she said, squeezing gently again. "Like you said, it's more or less like they feel when they're about to grow, but I suppose it can't be that can it?"

It was Jeanette's turn to shrug. "The other one's the same, have a feel. And they've gone quite dark as well don't you think?"

Sarah turned her attention to the other side of his chest, and Steve felt helpless, trapped between the two girls intent on examining him. "Yes," Sarah said thoughtfully. "Were they always that dark Steve?" she asked.

"I don't know," he squeaked, immediately ashamed of his pathetic voice.

Sarah cupped his other nipple, and squeezed again. "Oh yes," she said with certainty. "There's definitely something there. Well I don't know Steve, maybe the Machine wants you to be more of a girl than just wearing skirts all the time."

"Yes," agreed Jeanette.

To Steve's relief, Sarah took her hand off him, and both the girls backed off a little. He bent down, and pulled the towel up around himself, and retied the knot with trembling hands as they looked on. "I was really proud when my breasts grew," Jeanette observed. "I suppose it might be a bit different for a boy though."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, looking at Steve in wonder. "Poor Steve!"

They both shook their heads. "Anyway, I'll just sort myself out," Jeanette said brightly, turning to the cabinet, "then we can have our makeovers!"

"Oh yes!" Sarah agreed, much more brightly. "Who's room shall we use?"

"I don't mind," Jeanette said, looking into the cabinet. "What about Steve's? That's in the middle."

"Is that okay with you Steve?" Sarah asked him. He nodded. His eyes were fixed on Jeanette, who had taken a tampon out of its packet, and was now unwrapping it. With minimum fuss, she lifted her leg, and with some care, inserted it into herself, smiling at him. "Excuse me for a second," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Right, that's done." She grabbed her towel, and tied it around her chest like the other two, and still smiling, led the way back into Steve's room.

The Makeover was an entirely new ritual for Steve. First, all three of them cleansed their faces with a range of odd creams that Jeanette and Sarah produced. He was a little dubious at first, but had to admit, once the creams had been put on, and taken off again, the skin on his face felt nice and smooth. They then attended to each other's eyebrows. Sarah did Steve's, and made him whimper a little when she pulled one or two errant hairs out, and generally thinned them over his eyes. He was due to deal with Jeanette's, but chickened out, allowing Sarah to do it, while he watched on fascinated.

Steve came into his own with the nail varnish however. First, Sarah went back to her room to get some stuff, and they soaked their nails with it, and filed off any rough edges. He was amazed to see that his nails gleamed after this treatment. Jeanette begging him for advice on colour sprang him from this reverie. Colour, now this was a subject he knew something about, and he took to it with relish.

After the nail varnish came the make up. In spite of his misgivings, Steve was sufficiently caught up in the excitement of his two friends to forget about the girlyness of the activity they were doing. He watched on in fascination as both Sarah and Jeanette transformed their faces with the use of the various powders, ointments and lotions available to them. They were all in such interesting colours, and, although he would hardly admit it even to himself, he was dying to try them out. His opportunity came when the two girls had finished. He refused of course, it was silly, after all, for a boy to wear make up, but they did not have to do much insisting to get him reluctantly to agree.

Jeanette and Sarah's excitement reached a new level as they helped Steve discover a new look. They fussed and cooed as they powdered his cheeks, and blushed his eyes, as well as delicately colouring his lips. Once or twice the brushes and sticks they were using hurt a little, but other than that, Steve was caught up in the moment, and giggled with the others at each comment and suggestion. It seemed to take an age, but eventually he was declared finished, and stood to look at himself in the mirror.

What he saw surprised him. It wasn't so much that he looked like a girl; he did, but not significantly with his short hair. What surprised him was how happy he looked. The half hour of laughing and giggling with Sarah and Jeanette had somehow left strong traces of happiness etched into his face, and this radiated back at him from his reflection. Turning his head from side to side, he began to see little flaws in his appearance. His lips were too narrow, not full and ripe like Charles' or Gloria's; his nose was long and thin, and generally boring. He wished for a moment that it turned up at the end, as Sarah's did.

Sarah's reflection appeared beside his in the mirror. "What do you think?" she asked.

He looked at her in the mirror, and smiled. "It's good," he said.

"That eye shadow brings out the colour in your eyes nicely," she added, grinning at him. He looked, and saw that she was right.

"Now what about your legs?" Jeanette asked. He turned to face her.

"My legs?"

"Yes," Jeanette went on. "You were going to think about whether to shave them."

"Was I?" Steve asked, genuinely confused. He knew that the subject had come up after his shower, but he didn't recall that he was supposed to be thinking about it.

"Well I think you should," Sarah told him. "I mean, it looks as if you're going to be stuck in skirts for the foreseeable future, so you might as well make sure you look good."

Jeanette nodded emphatically. She handed him, not the blade razor she had used in the shower, but an electric razor in pink plastic, and, gingerly, he took it. "The on switch is there," she said, pointing to a white button on the case. "All you have to do is rub it up and down a bit. It'll get rid off all the fuzz."

"Yes," Sarah agreed. "And you might as well do your underarms as well. I know you're not showing them tonight, but it'll help."

He looked at them, and, after a pause, smiled and nodded, sitting himself down on the chair by the interface, and lifting his legs up in front on him. They weren't particularly hairy, he noted, but there was enough there to make the job worthwhile, and he set to work, removing the fine little hairs on his calves and shins. While he was doing this, the other two began to sort out each other's hair. Sarah brushed Jeanette's shoulder length tresses through and through, carefully separating each strand. Steve watched for a moment, and felt a pang of empathy for Karen's loss, and a strange feeling of jealousy as well.

Jeanette smiled at him. "We'll do yours later!" she said.

"There's not really that much you can do with it," he grumbled. "It's a bit short."

"Oh I'm sure we'll manage something," she assured him. Steve finished off his legs, and looked at the effect. They certainly looked smoother, and he stroked them gently with his fingertips to check.

"That looks better," Sarah assured him, now having her hair seen to by Jeanette. "Do your pits as well though, remember?"

He lifted his arm, and looked. There were a few wispy hairs, but it hardly seemed worth the effort. Still, Sarah seemed keen that he should do it. He lifted the razor, and stroked himself with it. A couple of the hairs pulled a little as the whirring blades ate into them, and he winced.

"That looks good," Sarah assured him. "Do the other one as well, and we'll see what we can do with your hair."

He smiled back at her, as her hair was teased and tousled into a new shape. Sarah had dark curly hair, fairly short, and Jeanette was pulling the ringlets out, and then down around her face. She had a pleasant and friendly face, but was in the minds of the boys Steve used to hang around with, not a first division beauty like Jacquie. His opinion of her had changed over the past few days, however, and he was beginning to appreciate the qualities of her personality, rather than those of her body.

He lifted the other arm, and removed the hair from the other armpit. It was a little difficult, holding the razor in his left hand, and he managed to pull his fine down even more. He persevered however, and, checking that all the fuzz had gone, put the razor down onto the table by his Interface.

He watched Jeanette busy with Sarah's hair, and smiled to himself. The taller girl was intent on her task, her brown eyes focused on her friend's hair, pulling and teasing each strand with a concentration bordering on fanaticism. Her own hair was smooth, smoother than Steve had seen it before. It shone in the light, not because it was wet, it had dried now in the ambient heat of the ship. It glistened because of the way Sarah had brushed it. His own hair, short though it was, always looked dull and lifeless, and, staring at hers, another unexpected burst of jealousy filled his chest.

"I think that should do," Jeanette said to Sarah. "Have a look and tell me what you think."

Sarah gazed at herself in the mirror, and turned her head from side to side. "Oh that looks lovely!" she exclaimed at last. "Oh thanks Jeanette."

"It's no problem," the taller girl replied.

"It looks really good," Steve put in, surprising himself that he had expressed an opinion. "It suits you."

Sarah turned and smiled at him. "Well let's hope Malcolm thinks so!" she said, her eyes flashing at the thought. Steve wondered; it occurred to him that his friend was in for a disappointment.

"Right, now let's see what we can do with yours!" Jeanette said, standing by the chair with a brush and comb in her hands. Sarah stood, and Steve moved over to take her place, sitting in the chair.

"How would you like it?" Jeanette asked, as she began to brush his hair through. Steve looked at her reflection in the mirror, the same look of intense concentration on her face.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't think you can do much with it really. It's so short."

"Are you going to grow it out then?" Sarah asked him. He looked across to her, but Jeanette's hands on his scalp pulled his head back straight.

"I'm not sure I'll have much choice," he replied. "Seeing what the Machine has done to Karen."

"Oh yes," Sarah said. "Poor Karen." A wave of concern passed across her face for a moment, but then disappeared as she returned to the task of advising Jeanette on hairstyles for Steve. There was a fair amount of discussion about what might be possible, and in the end, Steve's hair was straightened a little, which made it look slightly longer, and shaped around in front of his ears. He thought it made him look a little pixie-ish, especially with the larger eyes and fuller lips the make up had given him.

"How are we doing for time?" Sarah asked, as he admired himself in the mirror.

"We've still got an hour and a half," Jeanette said. "But we'd best get a move on."

"Oh yes!" Sarah gasped. "We're running out of time."

Steve was puzzled by this assertion. It seemed odd that they should be running out of time with an hour and a half still to go. Still, the showering, shaving, make up and hair had already taken much longer than he had anticipated, and they still had to sort out their clothes. Maybe Sarah was right.

The three of them ran off to their own rooms to get their clothes made up, and rendezvoused back in Steve's, the middle one, to put them on. Steve was a little apprehensive about his stockings and suspenders, particularly as Sarah and Jeanette had picked out ordinary tights for themselves. He looked around sheepishly at the two girls as he picked them up, but they were engrossed in their own preparations. He looked at the stockings and bit his lip. Should he really wear them, he asked himself? If Bryn or any of the other boys found out, he was going to be in trouble. Still, he had to admit, they did make him feel a little special. He smiled to himself as he rolled the stockings up his now smooth legs, admiring the way they made his flesh glimmer. There was a growing excitement amongst the three of them as the dance grew nearer, and Steve found himself sharing in this entirely.

They helped each other into their chosen dresses, and complimented each other profusely about how wonderful they looked, occasionally pulling and gently tugging at each other's dresses to make them hang better. Steve looked at himself in the mirror in his white creation. It hugged his hips tightly, tighter than he remembered and, looking carefully at his reflection, he could see the vague outline of his knickers and suspenders. He bit his lip, and wondered whether the boys would be astute enough to see, and realise what he was wearing. He decided, based on his own experience, that they probably would not. Other than boobs and legs, boys rarely noticed much about girls, he remembered.

The next phase in the preparation was something Jeanette and Sarah called accessorisation. Baffled at first, Steve soon realised that this primarily meant jewellery. He resisted the idea at first, but was captivated when Jeanette got a gorgeous choker out of the Interface in white velvet. It had a mock diamond on the front, and, as she fastened it for him, he gasped as he saw himself in the mirror. It looked wonderful, and was a fantastic compliment to the dress he had designed himself.

Jeanette and Sarah had a little more trouble finding just the right neck ware, but eventually settled on what they thought was best. Attention then turned to earrings. Steve, caught up in the moment, quickly ran off designs on the Interface for earrings to match Sarah's dress. The dark jewels he chose for them even set off her darting dark eyes, and, screwing them in place for her, he smiled to himself, pleased with his work. Jeanette was more difficult, especially with her hair hanging loose, but the two of them eventually came up with a nice pair of drop earrings, echoing the blue of her dress. Steve put them in for her, and she grinned in satisfaction at the reflection.

"Now what about you?" Sarah asked him, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. He jumped.

"I'm not sure I should wear jewellery," he muttered, his stomach jumping in anticipation of the suggestion.

"Oh don't be silly Steve!" Jeanette gasped. "Of course you must! Show those silly boys that you're proud to dress up like this!"

"Yes," Sarah agreed emphatically.

He protested some more, mostly for show. The excitement of the preparations had now reached fever pitch, and he was willing to try anything just to remain part of it. After a few tries, they found a simple pair with mock diamonds matching the one on his choker. He sat in front of the mirror, stomach knotted with excitement, as Jeanette screwed them onto his earlobes.

"Oh they look lovely!" Sarah gasped, as he winced as the earrings bit into his flesh. "Oh Steve, they're so pretty!"

He looked at himself and bit his lip, turning his head slightly. "Yes they are!" he said in glee, forgetting himself for a moment. He blushed, and Jeanette and Sarah giggled.

"Don't worry Steve," Jeanette said. "You're supposed to be enjoying this."

He returned her smile, and they began to look at what they might wear on their wrists and arms. Steve was persuaded to wear a couple of plain and simple bangles on each wrist, but, in spite of his protests, Jeanette got him to wear a ring with the same pretend diamond as on his earrings and choker. To complete the set, she put a couple of hair slides in each side for him with the same motif. Steve was so busy admiring these, and the general effect, that he didn't pay much attention, much to his shame, to what Sarah and Jeanette picked out for themselves.

"Well that's about it!" Sarah announced. Jeanette looked at her watch.

"And only just in time. Our escorts will be here in fifteen minutes."

"If they're on time," Sarah said, shaking her head in mock dismay at the time keeping abilities of boys.

"Okay," said Jeanette, giggling behind her hand. "I'll just go and get something!"

"Good idea!" Sarah agreed, with a conspiratorial look at the taller girl. Jeanette ran over to the shower entrance, and Steve assumed, through that to her own room.

"What's she after?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sarah said, obviously lying, as she began to giggle again. "Have you decided what perfume you're going to wear?"

"Perfume?"

"Yes, you'll have to have some perfume, to smell sweet! Did you want to try some of mine?" From the bag she had brought along, Sarah pulled out a little vial of yellow liquid, and handed it to Steve. He unscrewed the top, and sniffed. It was a heavy floral scent, that he immediately recognised as one Sarah had worn before.

"Put some on!" she urged, smiling.

Hesitantly, he sprayed a little by his ears, and was immediately overcome with the scent. Sarah giggled. "It's nice that one," she told him. "I worked it out a few months ago."

Both their heads turned to the door to the shower, from whence Jeanette reappeared carrying a small bottle, and three glasses. "Here's to us!" she said, handing each of the other two one of the glasses.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"Whiskey!" Jeanette replied. "My Mum gave me three bottles before she went off to sleep. She said it would stand me in good stead until the Machine thought we were old enough to drink."

Sarah giggled, as her friend poured a fairly generous measure out for her. She then held the bottle out for Steve. "I've never drunk whiskey before," he admitted.

"Oh it's all right, once you get used to it," Jeanette told him. "Come on, it'll give you some courage." She began to pour.

"Courage for what?" he asked.

She giggled. "For the dance." Steve held his glass, and its foul smelling contents dubiously while Jeanette poured herself a glass.

"Here's to us!" she announced again, holding her glass out. Sarah put hers out too, and they both looked at Steve. Taking the cue, he put his glass into the middle, where all three clinked together. Taking a deep breath, he put the glass to his mouth, and took a small sip. All at once his mouth was on fire, and it was as much as he could do not to spit the offending liquid out. Fighting this impulse, he diluted the sip with the copious amounts of saliva his mouth had suddenly decided to produce, and swallowed. The fire burnt his throat and down into his stomach.

He looked up. Sarah and Jeanette were looking at him, and smiling. "It's horrible really," Sarah explained. "But it does make you feel a bit more daring sometimes!"

"Yes," Jeanette agreed. "Come on, let's finish it, and wait outside for our dates!"

With some difficulty, Steve took another couple of swigs at the whiskey. Each was slightly less agonising than the last, but he was grateful when Jeanette offered to finish his for him, and took the half empty glass from his hands. His nose was full of the sweet and sour smell of the alcohol, and his eyes were watering a bit.

"Good thing that mascara's waterproof," Sarah told him, wiping his eyes with a small piece of tissue that appeared from her bag.

"Right then," Jeanette announced, having finished Steve's drink as well as her own. "Shall we go then?"

"Yes let's!" Sarah agreed. They stood in a circle, grinning manically at each other, and then hugged briefly, before Jeanette led the way to the door, and out into the common area of the girls' sleeping quarters.

Although there was still five minutes before the boys were due to arrive at the archway, the common area was full with girls, each admiring the others' dresses, make up and hair. There was something of a furore when Steve came into view, with several girls running up to thank Steve for the efforts he had made with their dresses.

"And don't you look good too!" Linda told him. "Blimey, if I had legs like yours, I would have picked out something short as well!"

"It's lovely," Janet, his erstwhile next door neighbour said, coming over to them. "You look better in that than the fairy dress I made you wear."

Another door opened, and Jacquie and Gloria languidly made their way into the common area, seemingly indifferent, but fully aware that all eyes were on them. Jacquie in particular, held her head up in casual superiority, barely acknowledging any of the other girls there.

"Your dress is nicer," Janet whispered to Steve. "Did you make hers less good on purpose?"

"No!" Steve protested, and was suddenly aware of Sylvia at his shoulder.

"Steve!" she gasped. "You look adorable! It's almost like a bride's dress isn't it? Only sexier!" He turned and smiled at her nervously, and caught the eye of Sandra, scowling by her side. He smiled, but this friendly gesture was not returned, and she walked off huffily into the distance.

"I like your hair too," Sylvia was telling him, her eyes on the top of his head. "Those pins set it off nicely."

"Thank you," he said meekly. Suddenly Jacquie was in front of him, Gloria at her side, and looking him up and down.

"Well," she said curtly "I see you kept the best dress for yourself."

"Yours is nice too," Jeanette told her. Jacquie glanced briefly and contemptuously at her, before returning her hard gaze to Steve. "I hope you weren't trying to show me up?"

"No," Steve responded, quietly.

"Good," she said. "Because when all's said and done, you're a boy." This last was delivered so loudly that the other girls were silent for a moment, and all turned to see Jacquie confronting Steve. There was silence all around them.

"Well it's not his fault," Jeanette said, taking Steve by the arm. "I think he looks lovely tonight. We all look lovely, even you Jacquie."

Jacquie turned her icy glare to Jeanette once more, and appeared to be considering some withering comment. She was cut off, however, by an excited voice by the archway. "The boys are coming!" Immediately the whole area became a hubbub of excitement. The girls moved away, quite deliberately, from the archway, where three or four had been on unofficial look out duty. They all resolved into little clumps, chatting amongst themselves, as if the last thing on their mind was the imminent arrival of their escorts.

Jeanette positioned herself between Steve and the arch, and turned her back towards it. "You'll tell me when Stuart's here won't you?" she asked him. He nodded.

It seemed a while before the first boy appeared at the arch, but eventually Steve saw a nervous looking Roger appear. As he approached the arch, the Machine put paid to any hopes of anonymity, and boomed out in its metallic tones. "B4 to escort G3"

The girls turned their heads around, and, after the briefest of pauses, a girl called Nicola, wearing a pale blue full-length dress stepped towards the arch. Roger looked even more nervous as she approached, and Steve wondered whether he had asked to be her escort, or had been selected from the dateless by the Machine. Either way, he had obviously received some coaching in etiquette. He held his arm out, perhaps a little stiffly for Nicola to take. She did so graciously, and, linked together, they walked off towards the Refectory.

Karen was next in line, and Mandy gratefully answered the summons. "No boyfriend for you then?" Jacquie teased her as she walked forward.

"I'm happier without," she answered in passing, taking Karen's arm, and following Roger and Nicola down the corridor.

The various parings resolved themselves. Steve noted that Nigel was paired with the sullen Sandra. She seemed to sneer a little as she linked her arm with his. Steve began to wonder whether Charles was going to turn up. He looked around the commons in some concern, and saw only himself and four other girls left.

Jeanette was next to go, and went with a spring in her step to meet Stuart, who, Steve had to admit, looked rather dapper in his tuxedo, and held his arm for her perfectly. Bryn stepped forward next, and nonchalantly the lovely Jacquie moved forward, and took his arm with a languid motion. Then Steve saw a nervous and uncomfortable Charles framed in the archway. "B14 for G11," the Machine intoned. He smiled at poor Sarah, who was now going to be last, and made his way forward. Charles managed a nervous smile, and held up his arm. Steve hesitated briefly, but decided to take it, and they began moving forward. As they passed him, Malcolm gave them a look that Steve could not fathom, before stepping forward to collect Sarah, his secret admirer and date.

Charles twittered nervously as they walked. "You look lovely, "he said, breathlessly. Steve smiled at him. "That dress, it's gorgeous!" he went on. Steve smiled again. It was rather pleasant to be the recipient of such compliments, he had to admit. Charles then ruined the moment for Steve. "I'm so jealous!" he whispered into his ear. "I just wish I could wear something like that."

Sympathetic though he was to Charles' predicament, it was hardly the comment Steve wanted to hear from his escort, but he gave a thin smile in response, and continued their way to the Refectory. Once there, Charles was a model of good behaviour. He held Steve's seat out for him, and let him sit. As the meal arrived, he was attentive to the point of irritation. It seemed to Steve that somehow Charles had decided that Steve no longer had the use of his limbs to any significant extent. Any sauces, condiments, or drink that was more than four inches from Steve's hand, Charles insisted on passing to him with an exaggerated kindness. Conversation was limited. Charles obviously felt he could not continue his reverie about the beauty of Steve's dress with so many other ears listening.

Others were not so thoughtful, however. Colin made the point of walking past, and bumping into Steve's back while muttering 'freak' under his breath. David, one of Colin's sidekicks, came over to say, "Only girls and poufs wear make up, you know."

"Oh do shut up David," Charles exclaimed. The fat, ugly boy raised his eyebrows, and then shook his head.

Bryn was not much better. He came over to say hello to Steve, the first time they had spoken since the knickers incident. Steve nodded curtly back, but Bryn seemed oblivious to any lingering resentment Steve might be feeling. "Nice dress," Bryn told him, dismissively. "I hear you designed some of the others as well?" Steve nodded, and Bryn moved in a little closer to whisper. "Well you might have made them all a bit shorter, and maybe see thru! I'll catch you later." And before Steve could reply, he was gone, back to his seat next to Jacquie. Glancing across the room, Steve caught the longhaired girl glaring at him, and then smiling as Bryn returned to her side.

The meal passed pleasantly enough, and, at the end of it, the Machine indicated that they should proceed to the Main Assembly for the dance. It insisted on protocol too, with each girl, or G number, being escorted properly by his or her date for the evening. Charles, looking less nervous now, offered Steve his arm. They walked along the corridor in a rather strange procession, with much giggling and chatting on the way.

"That dress really is nice," he cooed to Steve, as they walked along. "It hangs so well. How come you can't see any," he hesitated, "well, anything sticking out at the front. I'm sure if I wore a dress, especially a tight one like that, my thingy would show."

Steve grimaced. He was becoming more and more self-conscious about his penis since he didn't use it to wee any more. Whether it was his imagination or not, he was sure it was getting smaller. He thought quickly however, and gave Charles a brief smile. "Elasticated knickers," he lied.

"Oh I see!" Charles said, knowingly, and they carried on walking. Main Assembly was darkened when they arrived, with the occasional spot of light sparkling across the walls and floor. The Machine had certainly done its research on dancing rituals amongst its human charges. Sticking to protocol like glue, the Machine announced that the first dance was compulsory, and partners had to be the girls and their specific escorts.

Charles took Steve awkwardly around the waist, and Steve held himself stiffly, unsure of how to proceed. The music started, and they moved clumsily around the dance floor, Charles constantly looking around at the other couples. There was a considerable amount of embarrassment around, judging by the faces of their companions. Briefly, they danced past Sarah and Malcolm. Sarah smiled winsomely at Steve, but he could see she was not entirely happy. Jeanette and Stuart, on the other hand, appeared content enough, discussing something with some ardour in the middle distance. They also passed Jacquie and Bryn, and once again, Steve got a withering glare from Jacquie. He wondered what he might have done to earn such a look.

Soon enough, the music ended, and there was a flurry of bodies escaping from the enforced intimacy of the dance, and back into gender specific groupings. One or two pairs stayed together however; notably Jeanette and Stuart, and Karen and Mandy. Steve and Charles walked over to the drinks table, now unlocked from each other. Charles offered to get Steve a drink, but he refused.

"I hope you don't mind," Charles said to him, with a nervous grin. "But I think I might go and have a chat with Sylvia. About, you know!" Steve was taken aback. He hadn't expected to be stood up like this, to be left alone in the dance hall. Still, he knew Charles' secret plans and hopes when it came to Sylvia, so he nodded, and waved his escort away.

He stood on his own for only a few seconds when Sarah came over to him, carrying a drink in one hand. "On your own?" she asked, and he nodded. She looked across the room and glared at her escort, Malcolm, who was now locked in conversation with Eddie. "It seems that I'm not interesting enough," she grumbled.

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Steve assured her.

She smiled at him. "I tell you what, shall we dance together? Then we can show them what they're missing!"

Steve smiled and nodded, and they took to the dance floor, which was now, after the compulsory first dance, almost empty. He jigged around with Sarah to the low-key music, and for a time, they ignored the crowds around the edge of the room. Sarah seemed happier with something to do, and Steve was pleased about that. The music changed to something a little livelier, and their dancing became more energetic. Sarah shimmied her hips, as she bent down, making them both laugh, and Steve mimicked her movements, taking care that his dress didn't ride up and expose his stocking tops.

The music stopped once more, and he and Sarah laughed at themselves. He felt happy. Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Bryn. "Err Wotcha," the blond boy said. "That looks fun. Mind if I join in?"

Sarah answered for them both. "Sure. Be our guest!"

Steve was a little disturbed at the presence of a boy in their dance team, but, as the music started up again, soon lost himself in the rhythm and beat. Bryn was hardly graceful, but he was a competent enough dancer, and seemed to appreciate the way Sarah and Steve moved to the music. He stayed for a second dance, and Richard joined them. He was painfully shy on the dance floor, and simply lurched from one foot to the other. Steve tried to get him to loosen up a little, but to no avail.

"You're quite good at dancing," Richard told him in the next interval. "I didn't know you were."

"Thanks," Steve responded, and then felt another tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw that it was Jacquie. She smiled over his shoulder at Bryn, and then turned to Steve.

"I wonder if we could have a little word?" she said, acidly, and walked off towards the girls' toilets. Shrugging at the listening Sarah, Steve followed her out of the room. She accosted him in the corridor. "And what the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

"Me?" he said, astounded by the question.

"Yes you! Just because your date has run off with someone else doesn't give you the right to take mine!" Steve's mouth opened and closed to no effect. Did she really think he was trying to take Bryn away from her? She carried on. "I know you're new to this being a girl stuff, so I'll let you off this time," she said, her face close to his. "But if he's not back with me in the next few minutes, there's going to be trouble, make no mistake."

"I'm sorry Jacquie," he said, in a ridiculously squeaky voice. He coughed to try and remedy this. "I'm sorry," he said, in a deeper tone. "Bryn came over to dance, that's all."

"That's what they all say!" Jacquie retorted. "He's one of mine, not yours. If you want to pick up a boy, chose someone else."

"I'm not trying to pick up a boy!" he protested.

She sneered, and looked down at his dress. He immediately felt sorry that he had picked something so short. She looked back into his face. "Only tarts and slags wear dresses that short," she told him. "Especially with stockings!" And with that, she stormed back into the room, leaving Steve bewildered, and not a little concerned. He waited a few moments before re-entering the room, feeling a lot less confident now. If Jacquie knew that he was wearing stockings, how long would it be before one of the boys noticed? It would be worse than the knickers incident with Bryn and Richard.

The little dance group had separated in his absence. A couple of other girls were dancing in a desultory way in the centre of the floor, and, looking around, he saw that Sarah had decided to join Malcolm and Eddie, who looked less than comfortable with her presence. He leant against the wall, and looked around. Charles, his alleged escort, was in some animated discussion with Sandra and Sylvia. He wondered how it was going. How exactly did you broach a subject like the one Charles had in mind? You could hardly just go up to them and say, hey, how would you like to take my place as a boy? Still, that was Charles' problem, not his.

Colin and his cronies were over by the drinks table, helping themselves liberally to what was on offer. The alcoholic content was virtually nil, but somehow they seemed to have got themselves into a competition over it in any case. Some more girls spilled onto the dance floor. Janet, Ellen and Linda, and, if he wasn't mistaken, Mandy. Where was Karen, if Mandy was getting up to dance? She was supposed to be her escort after all?

He got his answer quicker than he supposed, as the tall girl suddenly appeared by his side, wearing a nice dark suit, and looking rather smart. "All on your own?" she asked. He smiled, and nodded. "I'm just going to the Viewing Point, just for a bit of quiet. Fancy coming along?" she went on.

The Viewing Point was the one place on the ship where they could see the vastness of Space as they traversed it. His mother had told him that back on Earth, people had insisted that there should be such a place, although the Others had been dubious. In the end, the Others proved right. It was one of those places that, in principle, should have been fascinating, and full every night with eager eyes surveying the stars as they sped past; a link to reality that could act as a solace to the artificiality of the social norms ship life imposed on them. In truth, however, it was rarely visited. Steve himself had been once or twice, but only stayed for a few minutes. It was vaguely disconcerting to see the view outside the ship, and, however unreal, life aboard ship was indeed their only reality.

He considered the invitation, and Karen's smiling face as she made it. "Okay," he said at last, and, standing, waited for some lead from her.

"I suppose I'd better take your arm," she said, grinning.

"Won't Mandy be jealous? She's your date after all."

"I don't think so." He took her arm, and they set off. "What about Charles? Is he going to beat me up for stealing his girl?"

Steve laughed. "I don't think so."

"Thank God for that!"

They reached the small room, and sat themselves down on a chair, facing a huge window, full of seemingly unmoving stars. The ship had an incredible velocity, but against the enormous backcloth of Space, no motion could be detected. Steve glanced surreptitiously at his partner, who seemed entranced by the vista. His nipple throbbed once more, and, wincing, he rubbed at it.

"Are you all right?" Karen asked him. He was surprised that she had noticed what he had thought had been a subtle movement.

"Yes," he replied. "My chest's just a bit sore."

"Perhaps your bra's too tight?" she suggested.
"No, it's not that," he said. Should he tell her? Why not? She was a fellow traveller with him on the farcical road he was on. "It's my nipples. They're hurting a bit."

"That'll be the hormones," she said, looking back out of the window.

He stared at her. What did she mean? He wished he had paid more attention in biology sometimes. "Hormones?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," she said. "I think the Machine's playing around with our hormones. Making me more butch, and you more girly."

Steve thought about this. Could it be true? Was the Machine making his hormones, and therefore him, more girly? He stared at Karen again, who seemed entirely enraptured by the view in front of her. She must have found it moving, because she was shaking.

"Well that's not very fair," he said, petulantly. "Can't we do something about it?"

Karen shrugged. "I don't know." She turned to face him. "I suppose we could try and swap."

He shook his head. "No. The Machine told us off about swapping clothes."

"No," she said, leaning close to him. "I don't mean swapping clothes. I mean swapping hormones. I'll give you some boyish ones, and you can give me some girly ones."

His eyes widened. "How would we do that?"

She grinned mischievously again. "It's easy!" she declared. "I was reading the other day that back on Earth they used to use saliva to test whether athletes had changed sex. Or taken drugs, whatever." Steve looked at her in amazement. He had never heard of such a thing. Karen looked at him carefully, and then carried on. "So I guess saliva must be full of hormones, it stands to reason, doesn't it?"

Steve shook his head. "I suppose so," he said. "So we have to swap saliva, is that what you're saying?"

Her grin widened even further. "Yes, exactly!" she said, turning a little to face him. He shook his head once more.

"But how do we do that?" he asked. "Spit at each other or something?"

She laughed out loud. "No! What we'll have to do is kiss each other! Is that okay?"

His mouth fell open, and he felt himself blushing. He turned his head away to look at the stars out of the window. "Well?" she pressed. "Shall we give it a go? It can't do any harm can it?"

He looked down at the floor, and pressed his hands into his lap. Karen wanted to kiss him, to give him some boy saliva. It didn't seem quite right, somehow. The way she was smiling about it didn't suggest that she was particularly interested in tasting girl saliva from him. He stared back at her insistent face, so close to his. Her blue eyes flashed in the light from the thousand suns out of the window, and she put her hand so gently on his shoulder. "All right," he whispered before realising he was going to, and, smiling, she moved her face close to his.

How long they kissed, he never knew. He remembered shifting position once or twice, trying to make sure his legs didn't impede hers. She put her hand on his knee at one point, and he remembered wondering whether he should try and move it, as her tongue snaked in and out of his mouth. Her other hand moved from his shoulder down to his chest, and massaged him oh so gently. Both of his nipples ached now, but not the dull disturbing ache he had felt before. It was something else.

She pulled away from him at last, and he looked at her in wonder, his hands gently grasping her shoulders. "Okay," she said, sitting upright. "I'm sorry, but I've just got to go for a pee for a minute. Don't go away."
"I won't." he said, his arms refusing to move from her of their own volition. They slid off instead as she stood, and he watched her leave the room, and go down the corridor. His heart beat furiously in her absence, as he watched the stars outside the window. Stars that had been there for millennia, and perhaps one that would one day be their home. His lips felt full, and he rubbed his chest once more, and was surprised to find his nipples harder than before.

Then she was back. He readied himself to swap more saliva, as she sat down next to him. She looked out of the window first, not touching him. Had he upset her in some way?

"Shouldn't we," he hesitated. "Swap some more saliva?"

She turned to him, and frowned. "That was a joke you know."

He backed away. "A joke?"

She laughed, but not unpleasantly, and took his hand in hers. "Yes. I'm sorry. I just wanted to kiss you." He looked at her, wide eyed and entranced by her, in spite of this seeming betrayal. "Did you really believe me about the saliva?" she asked him. He didn't reply, and she laughed again, and leant forward to kiss him on the forehead. "Have you any idea how long we'd have to be kissing each other to swap any significant amount of hormones?" He shook his head. She laughed again. "Probably about sixty years!"

His mind buzzed with the thought of kissing Karen for sixty years. Yes, his body told him, that was a very good idea. Stay there for sixty years and be kissed by Karen!

She stroked his face, and kissed his lips once more. "Honestly Steve," she said. "You'll have to stop being so naïve! I mean, what would you have done if I'd said that the best way to get you back to being a boy was for me to inject your lower abdomen with a gallon of sperm?"

Steve's eyes widened once more, and his mind raced. Quite frankly, he told himself, if she had said that there and then, he would have hung a 'welcome' sign around his waist. She ruined the images in his mind with her next comment however.

"Because that's the sort of thing Colin might tell you. Or Bryn, or even Richard. I know, I've spent some time with them now, I know how boys think."

Steve pulled away from her, and looked sullenly out of the window. She had tricked him, and he was cross. Still she continued however. "Because the thing is Steve, if you keep dressing like that, and looking so," she hesitated, and he turned to look at her. To his surprise, she was blushing now. "So, so bloody fantastic, well then everyone on the ship's going to try it on with you sooner or later."

He stared at her in amazement, and tried to sit up taller, so she didn't seem so much larger than him. This only had the effect of thrusting his chest out, and her eyes fell on it meaningfully, before she glanced away. "I don't mean to dress like this," he said, quietly. "It's the Machine's fault, not mine."

"I wasn't criticising," she qualified herself quickly. "You look gorgeous. More than gorgeous in fact. But," she hesitated again. "Well, you've just got some new responsibilities to go with it." She smiled at him again, and put her hand on his shoulder. His breath stuck in his lungs as she did so. "Come on," she said, "Shall we swap some more saliva, whether it works or not?"

Yes, his body screamed to him, but he hesitated before giving voice to its plea. She felt him stiffen. "Are you all right? I haven't upset you have I? I didn't mean to trick you, I thought you knew it was a joke."

"No, that's all right," he said, pushing her hand off. "I think we ought to be getting back now though." In truth he was not so much upset as confused. All her talk of hormones, responsibilities, and sperm was flashing around his mind without making much sense. Added to this rich mixture were the strange feelings coming from his body, and the shouts it put into his consciousness. Intoxicating though her proximity was, he wanted to get away from Karen just then.

She looked hurt at his refusal, but didn't press the point. "Come on," she said, standing, and holding her hand out for him. "I'll take you back."

"No that's all right," he said quickly. "We ought to go back separately. Otherwise people will wonder where we've been."

She looked freshly pained by this. "Well they would have seen us head off together," she said, by way of protest.

"All the more reason to go back separately," he said quickly, looking out at the stars. "Go on, I'll come along in a minute."

She paused, reluctant to leave him there. "All right," she said at last. "Can we at least have a dance when we're back in there?"

"I don't know. We'll see," he said, feeling the blood in his cheeks. He didn't look at her, but was aware she waited several seconds before eventually leaving the Viewing Point. Alone, his thoughts and feelings whirred around his head even faster. Oh God, he had let her kiss him! What had he been thinking? She had treated him like a girl, just like the Machine wanted her to, and he hadn't protested or resisted at all! In fact, he had thought it was wonderful, to be held in her strong arms, and kissed, and stroked, like some sort of porcelain doll. And when she had said that she was going to fill him up with sperm, his body had prepared itself to receive her! It was all too much for him, and he bit his knuckles as anxiety raced through his spirit.

He sat there for several minutes, trying to compose himself before going back to the dance. At last he decided that he was calm enough, and stood, straightening the hem of his lovely white dress as he did so. He took several deep breaths, and then walked out of the Viewing Point, and along the corridor towards the Main Assembly.

He was nearly there, when he noticed a door slightly ajar to his left. There was a noise coming from within, and it made him stop for a second. Probably some couple or other had snuck off for a snog, he thought to himself. He shook his head, and prepared to move on, when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone gently sobbing. He stopped again. Should he look in to see who it was, and whether they were all right? That's what Sarah or Jeanette would have done, indeed had done, on the occasions he had ran away from the crowd for a quiet cry. Or perhaps he shouldn't intrude? In the end, he walked to the door, hesitated for a moment, and then said. "Are you all right?"

There was a shuffling from inside, as, whoever it was tried to reorganise themselves in the light of this unexpected intrusion. Steve pushed the door open, and saw Sarah, standing at the back of the cupboard, for that's what it was, with red eyes, and tears running down her cheeks.

"Oh Steve," she said, with a croaky voice. "It's you!" She ran over, and hugged him, and his arms went around her shoulders and hugged her back.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Oh nothing," she muttered. "I'm being silly, that's all."

"Has someone upset you?"

"No, well, I'm a bit upset with Malcolm."

He hugged her again, as she sobbed onto his shoulder. "What's he done?"

"Nothing really," she said. "It's just that he won't talk to me. He keeps running off with Eddie. I've got a feeling Jeanette might be right about those two!" He hugged her again. He had known Sarah's infatuation with Malcolm was likely to end like this. After a minute or so, she pulled away from him.

"I don't know, I'm being really silly aren't I?"

"Not at all," he replied gently, smiling at her. "It's not easy being in love is it?" She smiled, and shook her head.

"I'm not sure I want to go back to the dance," she announced. "I might just go back to my room now. It's quite late."

"Yes," he said. "I'll come with you."

She looked at him in surprise. "Will you?"

"Yes, I've had enough as well," he said. "Dances are all very well, but you can get bored after a while can't you?" She smiled, and nodded. "Come on," he said. "We'll go the long way round. Then we won't have to see anyone."

He led her a circuitous route round to the girl's sleeping quarters, and insisted that she came into his room for a cup of cocoa. He made his, and handed her a cup, which she took gratefully, and sipped at it. "I don't know why I fancy him, I just do!" she said. He smiled again, and sat down next to her on the bed. "Oh why can't he see that I'm just right for him!" she wailed, and began to sob again.

There was little Steve could do to console her, but he was there, as she spilled her heart out. They sat for an hour, and he managed to make her laugh with tales of Malcolm playing football. At last, smiling, she stood, and announced she was going to go to sleep. She hugged him again, and they kissed cheeks. Then the door announced that Jeanette was waiting to come in.

He looked at her, and she nodded assent to his unasked question. He went across, and opened the door, allowing an animated Jeanette to step in. "Oh that was fantastic!" she gasped, walking through, and plonking herself down on the bed. "I've never enjoyed myself so much! What happened to you two?"

Steve looked at Sarah, and then at Jeanette. "We just got a bit tired," he said, not wanting either to breach Sarah's confidence, or curtail Jeanette's enthusiasm.

"Yes," Sarah said. "In fact, I'm off to bed now."

"Oh!" said Jeanette in surprise. "Oh well, fair enough. Is that cocoa I see? I'll have one if I may Steve, then I'll tell you all about it."

Rather wistfully, Sarah smiled at them both, and left the room. Steve quickly made some more cocoa for Jeanette, and handed it to her. She then proceeded to tell him every detail about her evening. How every word and gesture from Stuart really proved that he loved her, and how she had responded. It took him some time to realise that nothing had actually happened; they hadn't kissed, held hands, or anything that might be called 'getting off' with each other. Nevertheless, Jeanette seemed to be deliriously happy with her night's work, and she kept him up for another hour to make sure that he was fully apprised of every detail.

It was therefore a very weary Steve who finally stepped out off his dress, and took off his stockings before going to bed. He lay for a few moments, thinking of his own evening, the kiss with Karen, the strange feelings that this had given him, and wondered what that meant for his quest to become a boy again. He did not resolve the question however, before falling into a much-needed sleep.

  

  

  

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