G11

by Sarah Bayen

Part Ten

 

Steve awoke slowly. The Machine had just announced that breakfast would be served in half an hour, but his mind was reluctant to drag his body out of his comfortable bed. He couldn't have stirred much during the night either; for once his nightie was still around his knees rather than his neck. After a few minutes he did manage to lift himself out of bed, and he walked rather flat footed across to the mirror. He stared into it, and shrieked. His eyes were surrounded by smears of the make up he had worn the night before. He looked like a panda! There was no way he was going to breakfast looking like that!

In panic he rushed to the toilet he shared with Sarah, and, without announcement, through to her room. She was standing, naked in the centre, examining the uniform she was about to put on.

"Sarah!" he said, hardly noticing her lack of clothes. "Look at me! What can I do?"

She turned around and stared at him. "Gosh Steve, you surprised me! Now what's the matter?"

"My face!" he wailed. "Look at me, I look ridiculous!"

She walked over, and looked at his face, and then shook her head. "I don't know, you should have taken your make up off last night!"

"Oh God!" he continued. "What can I do?"

She giggled. "Don't worry. I've got some make up remover you can borrow. Just let me get dressed first."

"Thanks Sarah," he said gratefully, and then wandered around her room a little nervously as she dressed herself in her learning uniform.

"Now then," she said, opening a bag beside her bed. "This should do the trick." She handed him a bottle, and some cotton wool. Quickly he went over to her mirror, and got to work on his face.

"Oh it's working!" he gasped in relief, as he saw the smears and marks disappearing from his face. "Oh thank God for that! That's brilliant Sarah!"

"That's all right. You can get that off the Interface, under make up. You'd better order yourself some for next time you do yourself up."

"Thanks, I will," he said, removing the final traces. "I'm sorry to burst in like that," he said, suddenly realising that he had made something of a faux pas in his panic. "You must have wondered what was going on!"

She smiled. "Oh it's all right. We're friends after all."

He smiled back, just as the Machine announced that breakfast would be served in fifteen minutes. "Gosh!" he exclaimed, mirroring her favourite expletive. "I'd best go and get myself ready. Thanks again Sarah!"

"That's okay," she replied, and, using the toilet as a gateway again, he went through to his own room, and hurriedly ordered his learning uniform from the Machine, tossing his nightie into the recycling chute. As it chuntered away to itself, the toilet door opened, and Sarah strolled through. She stared at him, hunched naked over the delivery chute, waiting for his uniform. "I thought I'd come through and walk down with you," she explained.

Acutely aware of his nakedness, Steve wondered what to do. He could hardly complain about the intrusion having just done the same to her, so he simply smiled, and felt his cheeks redden. Then, with a thump, his uniform was delivered. Quickly, to hide his most embarrassing bits, he slipped himself into the pair of knickers the Machine had chosen for him, white today, with little roses all over them. He quickly looked around, and saw that far from paying him any attention, Sarah was leafing through a book he had left beside his bed.

With some relief, he stepped into his grey pleated skirt, and picked up his crisp white blouse. "No bra today?" Sarah asked, shaking her head.

"Err no," he muttered, slipping his arms into the blouse. "I don't really need one."

"Maybe not," she countered. "But remember that blouse is quite thin. All the boys will be able to see your nipples through it if you don't wear a bra."

Steve thought about this, and blushed some more. His nipples felt even more tender that morning, especially now Sarah's comment had drawn his attention to them. He looked down at them, looking decidedly darker than normal, and quite erect. She was right; they would be very visible under his blouse. Maybe it would be better to wear a bra. He bit his lip for a moment, and then decided that she was right. Slipping out of the blouse for a moment, he picked up the bra the Machine had delivered him, and put it around his chest, doing it up at the back with a certain amount of expertise.

"That's better," Sarah said, encouragingly.

"G9" the door announced.

"Oh that's Jeanette. I'll let her in!" Sarah said, jumping off the bed, and going over to the pad beside the door and pressing it.

"Hi!" Jeanette said brightly, stepping in. "God I feel tired!"

"Well you were up half the night!" Sarah said, shaking her head in mock admonishment. Jeanette giggled.

"I know! Poor Steve! I kept him up half the night as well, chatting away."

"I don't know, what are you like?"

Steve finished getting himself ready, and the three of them made their way to the Refectory for breakfast. Conversation all around the room was about the party, and how much fun they had had. There were one or two embarrassed looks between the boys and the girls, especially between couples who, perhaps, had snogged, or gone further than they really intended. Karen gave Steve a meaningful stare, as they ate on separate tables, and he smiled briefly back, before suddenly taking a profound interest in his bowl of cereal.

Once the meal was finished, they prepared to make their way off to lessons. Steve was pleased that he hadn't had to talk to Karen, but he was not to have this relief for long. She was waiting outside the room, and stopped him as he went past. "Can I have a word?" she asked. Steve glanced in panic at Jeanette and Sarah, who waited for him to nod to signal that it was all right for them to leave him alone. Once they, and all the others were out of sight, Karen spoke. "You're a bit of a tease aren't you?" she said, smiling at him.
"What do you mean?"

She stared into his eyes, and he felt butterflies in his stomach, remembering their exchange of saliva the night before. "You know what I mean," she said, reaching a hand up to stroke his hair from his face. "You promised me a dance, and then you disappeared! What was all that about?"

"Oh I got a bit tied up," he muttered, looking in the direction of the classrooms, and biting his bottom lip.

"And forgot all about me?"

He looked back at her, feeling his cheeks burning yet again. "Well not really," he said, "But someone was a bit upset, so I tried to help." He wasn't going to tell her about Sarah, and her disappointment at Malcolm's behaviour, it just didn't seem right.

"I see," Karen said, in a tone that suggested she didn't entirely believe him. "Well, we probably ought to get along to our lessons in a minute, but I just wanted to say, I enjoyed looking at the stars with you last night."

He blushed afresh. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely in reply.

"And if you ever wanted to do it again," she began, and then stopped.

"Thank you," he said again. "I'll think about it. Can we go now, otherwise we'll be late?"

"Well let me know what you decide then," Karen said, fixing him with her deep blue eyes. His knees felt weak for a moment, and he held his mouth ready, half expecting, wanting but not wanting, a renewed assault on his lips. He trembled a little, but Karen simply smiled, and indicated with a hand gesture that he should lead the way to the classrooms. He walked on, anxious whether his skirt was hanging quite straight, and whether his shaky knees were making his gait odd. He could sense her eyes on him, he was sure! To his relief, she moved up alongside him fairly quickly, and within minutes, they entered the classroom together.

"Hello what have you two been up to?" Bryn demanded as they walked in. "Blimey Steve, you're as red as a beetroot!"

There was a chorus of giggles around the room, and the comment itself made Bryn's observation doubly true. Without meeting anyone else's eye, Steve hurried over to the table where Jeanette and Sarah had saved him a space, and quickly began to engross himself in the Shakespeare play they were supposed to be studying.

Steve managed to lose himself in his work through till lunchtime, and went back with Sarah and Jeanette to the Refectory to grab a quick bite to eat. Most of the boys went off to play football. Karen hovered around their table for a few moments, and Steve was sure she was going to talk to him some more, but Richard grabbed her away before she could pick up the courage, and she went off to join the boys' favourite sporting pursuit. Steve was sure Sarah and Jeanette must have noticed her hovering, but they said nothing about it. The three of them talked and giggled for a good half hour, before the Machine announced that the afternoon learning session was due to begin.

Excusing himself, Steve decided he needed a quick trip to the Ladies. He went into a cubicle, and relieved himself, and went out to wash his hands. He saw Jacquie and Gloria there, adjusting their make up, and nodded. "Hello Steve," Jacquie said, coming up behind him as he dried his hands. "We need to have a word."

"Yeah," Gloria affirmed, standing rather menacingly beside her. Steve turned around to face them.

"With me?"

"Yes, with you," Jacquie told him, standing uncomfortably close. "In my room, after lessons." She stared hard at Steve, who felt more than a little nervous, but nodded his agreement. She continued to stare at him, and then backed away a little before preparing to leave. "You'd better be there," she said, over her shoulder in parting. Steve was shaken. He hadn't really had any problems from the girls since he got his G number. Apart from the odd joke, they had all been quite nice to him. He adjusted his hair in the mirror, and nervously made his way to the next lesson.

Jeanette obviously noticed something was wrong, and tried to prise out of him what it was. Steve wouldn't tell her, however, and got on with his latest art project for the rest of the afternoon. It was a rural scene, complete with meadow flowers, and a flowing river. He added a few colourful songbirds, and fluffy clouds in the sky, and lost himself in the creative process for an hour or so.

Suddenly he was snapped back to reality by the Machine announcing the end of lessons for the day. He tidied up, trying not to look at anyone, but Jacquie stepped meaningfully in his direction, swished her long dark hair at him, and smiled. He was going to have to confront her.

He walked back to the girls' sleeping quarters with Jeanette and Sarah. "You're a bit quiet this afternoon Steve, is everything all right?" Jeanette asked him.

"Yes," he replied. Both girls looked at him in concern.

"I'm seeing Stuart tonight," Jeanette confessed. "We're going to revise some of those physics equations we learnt last year."

"I bet you are!" said Sarah, giggling.

"We are!" Jeanette insisted, smiling to herself. "Anyway, I may need your advice on what to wear Steve! I was thinking maybe something a little low cut on top."

"Jeanette!" exclaimed Sarah, and giggled again as they reached the archway.

"I've just got to ask Jacquie something," Steve muttered, as they went through. His two friends looked at him askance, then looked at each other before walking on down towards their rooms. Steve stood outside Jacquie's room for a few moments before summoning the courage to press the button by the door. A few seconds later it slid open, and, walking back inside, Jacquie summoned him in.

The room was the same size and shape as everyone else's of course, but she had decorated it rather differently. The room was dark red, with subdued lighting, and the walls were covered in posters and pictures of semi naked men. Gloria was sitting by the Interface beyond the bed, staring at him, as he wondered what to do next.

"Well relax," Jacquie drawled at him, sitting herself down on the bed. "We're not going to hurt you!" Gloria smiled in what was nearly a sneer. "Sit down darling!" Jacquie went on, theatrically, gesturing him to join her on the bed. With some reluctance he did so, sweeping his grey pleated skirt under himself as he sat. He looked around the room, and at some of the posters.

"Do you like them?" Jacquie answered, noticing where his eyes had wandered. "This one's my favourite," she went on, pointing to one over the bed head of a well muscled and oiled black guy. "He's really hot!"

"Yes," agreed Steve, not wanting to cause offence.

"I like this one better," Gloria said, standing, and moving to point at the genital region of another poster. "I'd certainly let him give me one."

"Gloria," Jacquie admonished her. "That's no way to talk is it?"

Steve wondered why this little pantomime was being put on for his benefit, and where it might be leading. Jacque sat close to him, and looked down at his legs. "You've got dead sexy legs, hasn't he Gloria?"

"He certainly has," Gloria agreed, coming to stand in front of him. He felt claustrophobic for a moment, as they both stared down at his knees.

"I can see why you want to show them off so much," Jacquie went on. "I would, if mine were that good."

"Your legs are nice too," Steve muttered.

"But not so nice as yours are they?" she drawled on. "You don't think so anyway, do you Steve?"

She stared into his face, and he was alarmed. "I haven't really thought about it. I just have to wear a skirt all the time at the moment," he stuttered as bravely as he could.

"Well the thing is Steve," Jacquie said, suddenly standing, and moving around to face him. "Now that you've decided to be a girl, there are some rules you need to understand."

"I haven't decided to be a girl!" he protested. "It's just the Machine!"

She stared at him with contempt for a moment, then resumed her false smile. "Well whatever," she said, dismissively. "There are some rules you've got to follow. Isn't that right Gloria?"

"Yes," the blonde girl agreed, staring into Steve's face, and making it clear that there was a threat behind this.

"You broke a few last night," Jacquie went on, pacing in front of him now, her hair hanging loose down her back. "It's not your fault," she went on. "No-one's explained the rules to you I don't suppose. You've only had advice from Jeanette and Sarah, and they're both geeks."
"Yeah," Gloria agreed. Steve felt the need to defend his friends, but in his nervousness, could find no word with which to do so.

"So me and Gloria decided it was time for us to help, isn't that right?"
"It certainly is!" Gloria affirmed, and both girls stooped down in front of him, so that their faces were near his. Too near for comfort in fact. They stayed like that for several moments, before Jacquie stood up again, and swished her hair behind her.

"Okay then, here's rule number one," she began. "When you're deciding what to wear, especially to a dance, you check it out with your friends, okay?" She glared at Steve demanding an answer.

"Yes," he whispered in response.

"Because the thing is, you showed us up a bit last night, didn't he Gloria?"

"He certainly did."

"That's right. You see, Steve, it's a delicate balance when you decide what to wear. You've got to be bold enough to turn them on, but not so bold as to look trashy."

"Yeah," Gloria agreed.

"And it's important for friends to all get the balance the same, isn't it Gloria?"

"It certainly is," the blonde girl agreed, glaring at Steve. "It's essential."

"That's right," Jacquie went on. "Because, if, for example, you go to a dance wearing something short and sexy, and me and Gloria go in something, well, shall we shall more refined, well, then we look frumpy, but you look trashy and tarty."

"That's right," Gloria agreed. "And that's what you looked yesterday!"

"I'm sorry," Steve muttered. "I didn't mean to look tarty; or to make you look frumpy."

"But you did!" Jacquie snapped accusingly. She walked away again a little, and calmed herself. "Like I say, it's not your fault. You only had those two geeks to advise you."

"Yeah, but next time you'll have Jacquie and me!" Gloria put in, still staring right into Steve's face.

"So next time there's a dance, you're going to co-ordinate what you wear with Gloria and me, right?" Jacquie asked him.

"I guess so," Steve replied, hoping that they'd let him go having resolved things that far.

"Good," Jacquie went on. "Very good. Now, rule two; you don't go pinching other people's boyfriends!"

"Oh God no. You should never do that!" Gloria agreed.

"I never stole anyone's boyfriend," Steve protested. "I don't want a boyfriend anyway!"

Jacquie sneered at him, and tossed her hair again. "Maybe you didn't mean to," she went on, "but boys are pretty stupid. They'll always go for the one in the shortest skirt. That's why Bryn wanted to dance with you instead of me."

"Yeah!" Gloria agreed.

"So you'd better promise to never, ever, do that again. Is that clear?" Jacquie asked him.

"Yes," he replied, biting his bottom lip. "I didn't even know that Bryn was your boyfriend."

Jacquie laughed. "Well he is in a manner of speaking. Gloria and I like to divide them up, don't we darling?"

"Yeah," Gloria agreed. "Five of them fancy me, and ten of them fancy Jacquie, that's the way it is!" she announced.

"Well nine now," Jacquie corrected her, looking contemptuously at Steve. "Since he decided to be a girl anyway."

"I guess so," agreed Gloria. "Well there you are! You've already ruined it by turning into a girl!" she snapped at Steve.

"I've not turned into a girl," Steve began to protest, but they ignored him.

"Well if you can remember those two simple rules, I reckon you me and Gloria could be good friends!" Jacquie told him, smiling a false smile, dripping with venom. "There'll be nine boys who fancy me, five who fancy Gloria, and one who fancies you!"

"I don't think anyone fancies me," Steve muttered, self deprecatingly.

Jacquie glared at him. "Well Karen does," she observed. "Or at least, she doesn't fancy Gloria or me, so you're welcome to her."

"Yeah," Gloria agreed.

Jacquie walked around the room one more time, before returning to Steve, still sitting, and shaking a little on the bed. "Well you can go now," she told him. "But remember what we've been talking about, and everything will be all right."

"Thanks," he muttered, and stood up to move to the door. Jacquie, however, bared his way. She stared into his face from only two or three inches away.

"I suppose you are quite pretty, isn't he Gloria?"

"Yes, up to a point," the blonde girl conceded. "He won't be able to give the boys what we can, but we'll still have to watch him. They'll be too stupid to think about that."

"Yeah," agreed Jacquie. "And remember darling, next time there's a dance, you me and Gloria are going to co-ordinate our attack, and you can dump those geeky friends of yours and let them fend for themselves."

"Jeanette and Sarah aren't geeky, they're nice," he said quietly. She stared at him in a mixture of pity and disgust.

"You mean the horse shagger!" she sneered. "Why do you think she's got so many pictures of horses up in her room, just for decoration?" she laughed hollowly. "She's more interested in having a stallion up inside her than a boy, that's for sure!"

"Yes," Gloria agreed, laughing. "And as for the other one, she's a right little drip!"

"No she's not!" Steve protested, feeling angry that his friends were being talked about like this. "She's nice. And kind!"

Jacquie shook her head in pity. "Just a little word of advice," she said, putting her arm around Steve's shoulders. He tried to shrug it off, but there wasn't room. She led him towards the door. "The people you hang around with reflect on you my girl. If you hang around with geeks and dorks, people will think you're a geek and a dork, won't they Gloria?"

"They certainly will!" the other girl

Steve felt his lips pressing out, and he decided that discretion would, for once, be the better part of valour, especially as they were now at the door. Jacquie bent over, and planted a kiss on his cheek, and Gloria followed suit. "There you go!" Jacquie announced with a broad smile. "I'm sure we'll be the best of friends now we've got all that sorted out!"

"Yeah," Gloria agreed, and pressed the panel to open the door.

Steve rushed out into the common area, and ran along to his room, nearly bumping into Linda on the way. "Watch out!" she called after him. He ignored her, opened his door, and rushing in, fell onto his bed, and burst out crying. After about ten minutes, he heard the Machine announce that dinner would be served in half an hour. He stirred himself, and went over to the Interface to decide what to wear that evening. It would be something frumpy, he decided. He looked through the selections, and went for an ankle length black skirt, not too tight, and a polo neck jumper. In a fit of fashion, he decided to make it a bright pink. He selected a pair of simple shoes with hardly any heel, and rejected the Machine's advice to wear tights.

Slipping out of his Learning Uniform, he waited in just his bra and panties for the outfit to be delivered. It chunked and clunked as he waited, and then the door announced that Sarah wanted to come in. A little annoyed at the interruption, he scuttled over to the door, and pressed it to open, before running back to the Interface and the delivery chute.

"Hi Steve!" she announced brightly. "God, you should see the fuss Jeanette's making about what to wear for her date with Stuart tonight! She's making more fuss than we did yesterday for the dance!" She sat herself down on the bed, as Steve's outfit finally arrived. It suddenly occurred to him how odd it was for him, still a boy in his own mind at least, to be standing there in bra and panties in front of a girl. He collected his skirt and top from the chute, and turned to look at her. If she thought it was odd as well, she certainly wasn't showing it. Her face showed something else, concern.

"Oh God Steve have you been crying?" she gasped.

He shrugged. "A little bit."

She stood and came over to hug him. "Oh what is it?" she asked. "Have the boys been horrible to you again?"

"No," he stuttered. "It doesn't matter."

Sarah took hold of his shoulders, and looked into his face. "You went to Jacquie's room after lessons didn't you? Did she upset you; she can be a cow sometimes!"

Steve bit his lip for a moment, and then shrugged. "She was a bit horrid."

"I thought she might be," Sarah told him. "Poor you! What did she say?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he muttered.

"It does if she's upset you!" Sarah insisted. "Tell me!"

Steve bit his lip for a moment, considering what, and how much to tell his friend. "She said I'd broken the rules, by dressing like a slut yesterday."

Sarah's mouth fell open. "You weren't dressed like a slut!" she gasped. "Anyway, she can talk with some of the things she wears!"

Steve smiled at this. "But she's probably got a point. It was a bit short."

"You can wear things as short as you want," Sarah told him. "I'd wear shorter hemlines if I had legs like yours, you can be sure of that!"

He smiled again, and shook his head. "Your legs are nicer than mine," he told her, while stepping into his long skirt. "I don't know," he went on, as he did the zip up at the back. "I'm not very good at being a girl am I? I've not had the practice that the rest of you have."

"Oh don't be silly Steve! You're better at being a girl than the rest of us. Certainly better at it than bloody Jacquie!"

He smiled again. "Thanks," he said. "I only want to fit in. At least, until I can get the Machine to put things right again." He pulled his pink jumper down over his head, and fussed with the waist of it, to make sure it looked all right with the skirt. Sarah was smiling wistfully.

"I shall miss you if you change back," she told him. "It's good fun having you here."

He was startled by her frank admission. "It's good fun being here," he said. "But I have to remember that I'm really a boy, otherwise I'll never get to change back."

She nodded, and came over to hold his hands. "Poor Steve," she sympathised. "It must be so difficult for you."

He smiled in return. "Well you and Jeanette have made it a lot easier," he told her. "I've never had friends like you before!"

To his surprise, tears formed in Sarah's eyes, and she hugged him. "You are such a dear!" she said, and kissed him on the cheek. The door announced that Jeanette was there. Steve smiled at Sarah, and disentangled himself from her hug before going over to open it. Jeanette stood there in a long blue dress, slit up to the thigh, and thrust one leg forward to reveal it.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"It's lovely," Steve told her. "Just the thing for revising physics."

She gave him a sideways glance, and then giggled. "Come on then girls, let's get off to dinner. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and then I can get on with my revision!"

The three of them giggled once more, and head off to the Refectory. They continued chatting during the meal. The main topic of conversation was why Stuart had asked Jeanette to revise physics with him that evening. The only conclusion they could reach was that he fancied her. This seemed to please her, and she cast more than one surreptitious glance across the room towards him during the meal. Sarah was a little downcast that she was making less impression on Malcolm than Jeanette was on Stuart. In the end, she decided to take matters into her own hands. "I'm going over to talk to him now!" she declared, and stood up. Steve and Jeanette watched her walk between the tables, and sit herself purposefully down between Malcolm and Eddie. From there, she cast her two friends a meaningful glance, and then began talking, with wide eyes, and exaggerated nods of agreement at everything Malcolm said.

"I really wish she'd find someone else to fancy," Jeanette confided to Steve. "I think she's wasting her time there."

"I know," Steve agreed. "But I think you've got a good chance with Stuart, he's looking at you now."

"Is he?" she gasped, holding a hand in front of her mouth. "Oh God, perhaps I should have worn the other skirt!"

"No, you're fine," Steve assured her.

"Well that's me and Sarah at the races," she said. "What about you Steve? Who do you fancy?"

"Me?" he said, astonished at the suggestion. "No-one. No-one at all."

She pulled something of a face. "I'm sure that's not true."

"Well it is!" he insisted. "Now hush! Stuart's coming over!"

"Oh God!"

Jeanette sat herself upright, and pushed her hair behind her ears, just in time for Stuart to arrive, and he gently reminded her about the Physics revision.

"Oh yes," she told him absently. "I had sort of forgotten. But it's okay; we can go now if you want."

She stood up, and winked at Steve as she walked off to one of the classrooms with the tall curly haired boy. Steve smiled as he watched them go. He wondered for a moment whether Stuart had been allocated to Jacquie or Gloria in their silly little carve up of all the boys.

Sarah came rushing back over to him. "Oh God!" she wailed. "Do you know how to play chess Steve?"

"Chess? Not really."

She looked pained. "Well Malcolm's just asked me to have a game with him!" she explained. "I've never played before; he's going to think I'm a right dork!"

"He might enjoy teaching you," Steve suggested, but Sarah didn't look convinced.

"I don't know about that. Oh God, he's coming over now!"

True enough, Malcolm and Eddie came over, and nodded to suggest that Sarah should follow them. "Do I look all right?" she asked him in panic. "I wish I'd known this was going to happen, I could have worn something else!"

"You look fine," Steve assured her. She stood, and followed the two boys off down one of the corridors, leaving Steve on his own. He wondered for a moment what to do for the evening. He could go back to his room, and find something to read perhaps. A bit dull though, he decided. He then remembered the picture he had been painting that afternoon, and thought of it sitting in the art room unfinished. Yes, that was a good idea! He could go off and do some more work on it.

He stood, and put his plate into the recycling chute, and then walked off down the corridor that led to the learning rooms. It occurred to him that Jeanette and Stuart might be in one of the labs down there, but decided that as long as he was quiet, he shouldn't disturb them.

He was surprised, however, to see Charles and Sylvia in earnest conversation at one of the intersections. He smiled at them in greeting as he passed by. Charles was leaning languidly back against the wall, and Sylvia with her arm above his head, was leaning towards him. It looked as if Charles' plan might just be working, Steve thought to himself. Charles smiled secretly at him as he passed, and winked in a conspiratorial way.

Steve reached the art room, and switched on the light. His picture still stood on its easel over to one side of the room. He went over to appraise it, and consider what he might do next. Soon he was fully engrossed in his task, oblivious to the rest of the ship, and concentrating entirely on the vista he was producing.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice behind him a good half hour later. "Are you sure that's the colour of the sky you want?" He turned around. It was Charles, looking quite pleased with himself, and transferring his weight from leg to leg, obviously eager to say something. "Sorry Steve, did I startle you?"

"You did a bit," Steve admitted, looking wistfully at his picture once more, knowing that he was about to be distracted.

"I just thought I'd update you on me and Sylvia," Charles went on, moving over, and sitting down on one of the tables, crossing his legs elegantly in front of himself. "I saw you pass us, so I guessed you'd be coming down here, you liking art and all that."

"I suppose I do," said Steve, still holding his paintbrush.

"Well you were right about Sylvia," Charles exclaimed. "Or at least I think you were. I'm sure she wants to be a boy!"

Steve sighed. His picture would have to wait. "Has she said so then?"

"Well not as such," Charles admitted, looking extremely excited about the prospect. "But I'm sure she does. I told her how strong she was, and she looked really pleased!"

Steve smiled. "Well, I suppose that's a start," he said, not wanting to rain on Charles' parade.

"And," Charles went on, "She said I'd look really pretty in make up! Do you think you could get me some, and show me how to put it on?"

"Well, I could," Steve replied. "But I'm not exactly an expert."

"But you looked so lovely yesterday. I was so jealous!"

Steve smiled again; rather pained that Charles should be so jealous of his enforced femininity. "Well Jeanette did that for me," he admitted. "I would have made a right mess of it if I'd done it myself. But as far as I know, I can get the Interface to give me as much make up as I want. I'll get you some for tomorrow if you want. You could practice putting it on in your room, as long as you're careful."

"Oh thanks Steve!" Charles said his eyes as wide as his smile. "Once I've got the hang of it, I'll let Sylvia see! That'll make her feel even more like a boy won't it?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Well I don't know about that," he said quietly. It did seem a leap of faith to assume that Sylvia would go along with Charles' plan to swap sexes with him, simply because she said he'd look good in make up. God, he remembered she had said the same to him the previous Christmas, and then proceeded to make up his eyes as a joke. A cold shudder came over him. That was before the Machine had allocated him a G number! Perhaps Sylvia had seen something in him that he had never seen himself, and somehow decided to bring it out with make up?

Charles swung his legs backwards and forwards, and bit his lip, as Steve often did. "I like that skirt," he said, wistfully.

Steve looked down at the long black one he had chosen, and it swayed around him a little as he did. "Err thanks," he said, unsure how he should respond.

"You're so lucky," Charles went on. "Being able to wear things like that!"

"I don't have a lot of choice remember?" Steve reminded him, with just a hint of bitterness. "I have to wear skirts all the time."

Charles' eyes took on a far away look. "Well it wouldn't bother me," he said, "Even if I could wear trousers, I think I'd still wear skirts all the time, if I had the choice that is."

Steve shrugged. "Well I suppose we're all different," he said.

Charles looked at him sheepishly for a moment. "Could I ask you a favour?" he began. Steve looked at him, wondering what that favour might be. "I don't suppose," the other boy began again. "No, it's not right. I shouldn't ask you."

"Shouldn't ask me what?" Steve asked patiently.

Charles blushed a little, and looked with tears forming in his eyes at the ceiling. "I was just going to ask you if I could try on your skirt. Just for a minute that is!"

Steve's mouth fell open in surprise. Charles took this, together with Steve's silence, as a rejection. He screwed up his face in embarrassment, and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have asked you. It's silly. It's just that I've only ever worn one once, you know, when Linda organised that protest. That one was quite short. Don't get me wrong, I loved it, but I'd so like to try something longer and more elegant." He stared at Steve with pleading and tearful eyes for several moments, before looking away again. "I'm sorry. I wish I'd never mentioned it. I'd better be going now." He jumped down off the table.

"Wait!" Steve commanded. "It's all right. If you want to try it on, it's okay by me." He reached behind himself, and undid the button and the zip, before stepping out of the skirt. Sighing, and not entirely sure that he was doing the right thing, encouraging Charles' fantasies like this, he held out the skirt for the other boy to take.

He was trembling with emotion. "Are you sure Steve?" he asked, his eyes still moist.

"Of course," Steve went on, waving the skirt impatiently. "Come on, take it, and try it on. I'm not allowed to wear trousers, according to the Machine, but there's no particular reason that you shouldn't wear a skirt."

Charles' lips began to tremble, and he held out a shaking hand. Steve thrust the skirt into it. "Oh Steve!" Charles gasped. "I'm so grateful!"

He quickly stooped down to remove his shoes, and Steve decided to look away, and examine his picture in some detail. He felt sorry for Charles, he really did, wanting to be a girl so badly. And he realised how bad it must be for him to know that Steve, who had never entertained such thoughts, had been handed his girlhood on a plate.

"Oh it's lovely!" he heard Charles coo to himself. He turned to look. Charles had put the skirt on, and was now turning slowly around, looking at himself in amazement. "Oh Steve it's so good!" he gasped again.

"You look nice in it," Steve told him, looking rather dubiously at the grey socks the other boy still had on, and his rather plain green T shirt, that hung out over the waistband of the skirt. Should he give him advice on how to wear it properly? A better idea came into his head.

"Come on," he said, taking hold of the bottom of his pink jumper. "You might as well try this on as well."

"Oh Steve can I?" Charles exclaimed. "Oh I'd love to!"

Steve pulled the jumper over his head, and waited while Charles removed his T shirt. The boy looked at him sheepishly, and bit his lip once more. He made no move to take the jumper, and Steve began to feel a little impatient. "Can I ask just one more thing?" he asked, now visibly blushing.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Well," he began. "I'd love it if I could; that is, if you didn't mind. Well you can say no if you want," he stuttered.

"Come on, ask me!" Steve urged, his impatience rising to the surface.

"Well," Charles said, his breath short and shallow. "Could I possibly try on your bra as well?"

"My bra?" said Steve, astonished, and unconsciously stroking it at the sides, as if to remind himself he was wearing one.

"Yes," sobbed Charles. "Oh I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have asked!"

Steve sighed to himself. It seemed a little odd, a little unhygienic, to let someone else share his bra. Still, if it meant that much to the boy, perhaps he should let him. "All right," he said at last. "Hang on, and I'll take it off for you."

"I won't ask to wear your knickers though!" Charles assured him. "I mean, they're lovely, don't get me wrong. But I don't think it would be right to share them."

"No," Steve agreed, slipping the bra off his chest, and handing it to the other boy. Again, he made no move to take it. His eyes were wide, and rigidly fixed on Steve's chest.

"What is it?" Steve asked, after a considerable pause.

"Oh my God now I really am jealous!" Charles gasped, his eyes still fixed to Steve's chest. Steve was confused, and held his hands up in front of himself.

"What are you jealous of?" he asked.

"Why, your boobs!" Charles gasped. "They're growing already!" Steve winced at the observation, but in spite of himself, could feel the lumps under each nipple, harder now. "Don't be ashamed of them Steve," Charles went on in wonder. "They're lovely!"

"Maybe they are," Steve spat angrily. "But I'm not sure I want boobs!"

Charles tilted his head to one side, as Steve stood rigidly with his hands in front of himself to hide his nipples. "Well I'm not sure you've got much choice," he said. Steve felt the blood rising in his cheeks.

"Come on," he muttered crossly. "Just try it on, and let's get this over with."

"No it's all right," Charles responded, with awe in his voice. "It wouldn't be right, not when you." He stopped himself, as Steve's lips thinned with anger. "Well, it just wouldn't be right. Here, you have it back." He held out the bra, and Steve snatched it, turning his back to the boy to do it up. How dare Charles say that he had boobs, he was a boy! More of a boy than Charles, even if the Machine did think he was 82% female. It was an outrage.

"I'll have my skirt back now, if you please!" he snapped.

"Of course," Charles told him, looking penitent. He undid the skirt, and stepped out of it. "I'm sorry Steve, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's all right," Steve told him, holding his hand out for the garment. Charles handed it to him, and he stepped back into it.

"I knew this was a bad idea, I should never have asked you!" Charles said plaintively, putting his T shirt back on. Steve suddenly felt a little guilty for being so hard on him.

"It's not you asking for it that's the problem. It's, well, the other thing."

"The other thing?"
"Yes," Steve insisted. "The thing about my boobs. I don't like talking about them I wish they weren't there. I wish they weren't growing! They seem to be getting bigger every day, and I hate it!"

"But you're so lucky!" Charles exclaimed. "So lucky to be growing them. I wish I could."

"Well I wish you could as well, instead of me!" Steve shouted, and ran out of the art room, and along the corridor in the direction of the girls' sleeping area, with tears in his eyes. He stopped at an empty intersection, and tried to pull himself together. He seemed to be crying a lot these days. He had prided himself, until recently, as being someone who never cried. He had hardly cried when he had had to say goodbye to his Mum and Dad for God's sake! Bryn had been sobbing inconsolably, but not Steve. He had been made of firmer stuff. Or at least, until recently. Ever since he had been given that damn G number, his eyes seemed to shed water at the slightest provocation.

He shook himself, to try and cure the phenomena, and started off again. He soon reached the Archway, and prepared to walk through to his room, grateful at least that Jacquie and Gloria weren't lying in wait to give him more tips on the rules of being a girl. Sitting in the middle, in the courtyard, as the girls had taken to calling it, were Sylvia and Sandra. Sylvia stood as he walked through,

"There you are!" she exclaimed. He winced. He had been hoping to grab a few moments on his own, something which, since he had joined the girls, seemed to be becoming a bit of a rarity.

"Hi Sylvia," he said weakly.
"I was hoping to see you," she said, coming across to him, and standing tall by his side. "I need your advice."

"My advice?" he was astonished at the thought that Sylvia might want advice from him. "What can I tell you?" he asked. Sandra, too, had stood, and walked across more languidly to stand beside him. Sylvia looked around the empty courtyard, as if assessing the situation.

"I tell you what," she said suddenly. "Let's go to my room. It's a bit private."

Steve closed his eyes for a moment. He would have to try and assert himself here. "Can't it wait?" he asked. "I'm a bit tired really."

"It won't take more than a minute!" Sylvia insisted, signalling the way he should go. "Come on. Please!"

He sighed, and allowed her to lead him off to the other side of the sleeping area to her room. She put her palm on the panel to the side of the door, and led the way in. There was nothing particularly unusual about the way Sylvia had decorated her room, he noticed, looking around. There were a few posters on the wall, not of the erotic type favoured by Jacquie, nor of the equine variety that adorned Jeanette's walls. They were simply mountain scenery, and a picture of a military aeroplane.

"Sit yourself down," Sylvia suggested. Steve sighed again, and sat himself on the bed, straightening his long black skirt as he did so. The two girls remained standing with Sandra drifting into the background over by the door. She obviously intended to take a secondary role in whatever followed.

Steve looked up at Sylvia, wearing a simple black T shirt, and stylish jeans. She began to speak. "This is a bit personal," she said.
"I guessed that, when you said we had to come here," he responded, hoping she would overcome her embarrassment, and get on with whatever she wanted to know.

"Yes," she went on, a little flustered. "Well, it's about Charles."

"Charles?"

"Yes," she went on. "Do you think he fancies me?"

Steve considered this for a moment. Charles had never actually said that, only that he was going to try and get Sylvia to agree to become a boy in his place. "I don't know," he replied.

"Oh you must do!" she went on. "Does he fancy me or not?"

"Well he might do!" Steve protested. "But I don't know. You'd be better off asking him yourself!"

"He's not going to tell you," Sandra said, emerging from behind her friend, and nodding cursorily in Steve's direction. "You'd better ask him the other thing."

Sylvia looked embarrassed, and stared away from him for a moment. "What other thing?" he asked. She bit her fist for a few seconds, and then, without looking at him, spoke again.

"What's it like," she began. "To be a boy; to have a Willy? Is it all right? I mean, is it good fun?"

Steve was taken aback at the question. It was so close to the dreams Charles had. Could it be possible she shared those dreams, or was she probing for something else. "It's all right," he replied, with reserve.

She stared right at him, her eyes as nervous as he felt. "Because," she began. "Ever since you and Karen swapped places. I've been thinking." Steve waited for her to continue. It took her some time to do so. "I've been thinking that maybe I should be a boy." He stared at her hard. "I went to see the Machine. I thought maybe I could offer to be one instead of Karen, but it said no," she went on. "It said I had to swap with one of the other boys." She stared at him again, trying to gauge his reaction. There was little to tell from his eyes. "It even gave me some names. Charles was one of them."

Steve took a deep breath. "So you want to know if I think Charles would swap with you and become a girl?" he asked, trying to keep a measured tone in his voice. Sylvia seemed to tense up, and wandered around the room.

"That's more or less the size of it," Sandra put in. "I mean, she's always been a bit of a tomboy. You've probably noticed." Steve shrugged in what he hoped was a non committal manner.

"Yes," Sylvia admitted, coming back to stand between him and Sandra. "I have. I know I have. But until you and Karen swapped over, it had never occurred to me that I could be a boy. Not for real."

Steve hesitated before framing a reply. "Well, I don't really know what you're asking me? What is it about being a boy that you want to know about?"

She stared at him earnestly. "What's it like having a real Willy? One you can wee with?"

The thought of how the Machine had taken that function from his organ filled his mind for a second. There was no need for her to know about that, however. He shrugged. "It's okay. You get used to it I suppose."

"Oh that's no good!" she exclaimed. "I really want to know what it's like! I thought you'd be able to tell me, since you used to have one!"

"Used to have what?" he asked, suspiciously.

"A Willy of course! You had one when you were a boy didn't you?"

Steve took a deep breath. "I've still got one!"

She looked at him in surprise. "Still? You've still got it?"

He felt himself blushing. "Of course. I'm not really a girl, you know, however the Machine makes me dress!"

Sylvia stood up straight, looking even taller now. "I'm sorry Steve," she said. "I just sort of assumed the Machine would have, I don't know, chopped it off or something."

Steve pouted a little at the suggestion. "Well it hasn't!" he told her.

Sandra walked a little towards him. "Well prove it!" she said, quietly.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, genuinely shocked.

"Prove it!" she sneered. "I reckon you're having us on! I bet the Machine chopped it off and made you some nice girly bits instead!"

"Well it didn't!" he insisted. "It's not allowed to do stuff like that unless we agree to it. And I've never going to do that!"

She sneered again. "I bet you already have!" she said. "Well that's a turn up for the books!" She looked across at the still anxious Sylvia. "He's allowed the Machine to chop his Willy off, what do you make of that?" she asked, rather louder than was necessary.

"Well he could have bloody well given it to me instead," Sylvia complained, with some anger in her voice.

His mouth opened and closed a few times. Taking his breath, he managed to speak again. "Listen," he insisted. "I've not had it chopped off. I've still got it. I can't say it any clearer than that can I?"

"Then show us!" Sandra demanded again.

"Yes, show us," Sylvia said. "I've not seen one for a long time. I'd like to have a look before committing myself to growing one."

Steve began to blush again. "I don't think that would be right," he muttered, standing ready to leave.

"That's because you've had the bloody thing chopped off!" Sandra taunted again. "I can't wait to tell everyone! Especially the boys! Once they realise you've got pretty little girl's bits down there, they'll all want to have a go at you!"

"Shut up!" shouted Steve in return, stamping his foot. "I have not got pretty little girls bits!"

"Then prove it!" demanded Sylvia. "Let's see."

"No," Steve repeated, folding his arms in front of his chest, and walking towards the door.

"Then he must have had it cut off!" exclaimed Sandra, laughing. "I can't wait to tell everyone!"

He grimaced in shame and anger, and left the room. He rushed across the courtyard, determined to avoid tears, and stomped into his own room. He was going to have to do something about this. It was all getting too much. How was he ever going to get back to being a boy when he was growing boobs? Now he'd have to face the shame of everyone thinking he'd had his thing cut off as well! He'd have to think of something. He switched on the Interface, and was surprised to see that he had four new messages. Accessing them, he saw that they were all from Karen, asking to see him. Perhaps she had some new plan that would get them back to the way they were. That must be why she wanted to see him! Excellent, but it was late now. He would agree to see her tomorrow, after dinner. He quickly typed up a reply saying this. Almost immediately another message came back from Karen, saying that that was okay. He slumped back into the chair, and closed his eyes. His nipples reminded him of their growth by throbbing, and he rubbed them gently to relieve the pain. The whole thing was turning into a complete nightmare, but he was relieved to think that Karen wanted to see him to talk through her new plan, her road map back to reality.

  

  

  

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