[Patreon Exclusive] GOING THROUGH CHANGES: Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Chapter 8

School wasn’t nearly as horrifically awkward as I thought it was going to be. There was only a single gut turning moment, shortly after I arrived.

Before going to my first class, I needed to make sure to buy my immunity, and to make sure my teachers didn’t think a complete stranger was strolling into their classes. So I went to the office and found myself waiting in a line to see the receptionist. I recognized the girl directly ahead of me in the line. She was one of the blonde girls who took me in when they thought I was gay, and then rejected me when they realized they were wrong. She looked back at me, right into my eyes, making my heart skip a beat, and then she smiled before looking forward again.

Behind me was a guy who looked to be my age. He was dressed for gym class, showing off his arms with the sleeves of his gym t-shirt rolled up to his shoulders. His arms were surprisingly toned and hard not to notice. He smiled at me when I looked back at him.

I was just waiting for the moment everyone in the line realized who I really was. I was preparing myself for the snickering and the whispering—but it never happened. I just kept getting warm smiles from everyone who came and went as I slowly made my way to the front of the line.

“How can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

I leaned over her counter, feeling my skirt riding up—probably showing off my tush to the boy behind me. I could almost feel his gaze drifting down and tickling the soft skin of my shaved bum. “I just want to make sure that the school knows that I’ve changed my name,” I said—my voice was hardly a whisper.

“Changed your name?” the receptionist asked with her regular-volume voice. A cold chill crept down my spine.

“Yes. I’ve changed it to Kendra—Kendra Johnson,” I said.

“Kendra Johnson? What was it before?” she asked.

My gut flopped and churned as my legs began to feel weak. I was tempted to look back at the line of people staring at me—who were all probably just as confused as the receptionist. I bit down on my tongue and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat. My skirt suddenly felt terribly short and my shirt felt awfully tight. “Do you have the attendance for Mr. Jenkins’s class?” I asked.

She slipped a clipboard out from a plastic tray. I reached out and grabbed it from her. Then, I pointed at my name on the list. She leaned forward and squinted. “Jessica Johansson?” she asked.

“No—the one below it,” I said.

She leaned forward even further and squinted her eyes even more. Then I watched as her eyes widened. She slowly looked up at me. And then she looked down at my body with her lips slightly parted. “You’re—You’re actually…” She swallowed her words before they came out. She was probably afraid of being fired for being transphobic. She made a big, forced smile and nodded her head quickly. “Okay. Perfect. I’ll let your teachers know, and I’ll have the attendance changed by tomorrow.” Her face was dark red and her gaze was now glued down to her desk. “Who’s next?” she called out awkwardly. So I skirted away, off to my first class. I got a seat at the back of the room. I only got one strange look, and it was from the teacher, right after he got off the phone with the receptionist. He stared at me for a long moment and then he looked away abruptly.

“Um, class, we—uh—have a new student with us today,” he said. “Kendra, sitting in the back there. I very much hope that everyone can be kind to her. It’s—uh—not easy to start at a new school.”

Everyone turned to look at me. Some students waved, some said hello, and others smiled warmly. I was surprised. The welcoming was much different than what I got as Kenny. People seemed more receptive towards a new girl than they did a new boy—and maybe that was just the reality of 2019. Girls were in vogue. Girls could do no bad and boys could do no good. I had to admit: it felt nice to be welcomed with open arms.

Before the end of class, I had three different boys offer to help me with catching up. I even had one boy offer to do my homework for me. “I was new last year,” he said. “I know how hard it can be.”

As I was leaving the classroom, one of the blondes came up to me. “If you want, you can hang out with me and my friends during lunch.” It was the second time she’d offered, but she had no idea. No one had any idea that they’d seen me before, and no one had any idea that I wasn’t really a girl. And was that because my disguise was so spot-on? Or was it because I actually looked like a girl? I still hadn’t ruled out the possibility that I was really a girl—a girl born with an accidental cock. Maybe I was finally going through female puberty and I was finally learning the truth about myself.

I had gym class after lunch. I didn’t think it was going to be an issue, until I walked into the gymnasium and the teacher said, “Go get changed into your uniform.”

I turned around and found myself facing the changing rooms. I nearly stepped into the men’s room when I remembered that I was now a woman. I was expected to go into the women’s room. But I was afraid for a number of reasons. First of all, I couldn’t let anyone see me naked, unless I wanted everyone to know the truth about me. And second of all, I’d never seen a naked girl in real life before. I’d never seen a bare set of tits or an exposed pussy, unless you count pornography. My heart stuttered and fluttered down into my gut. What other choice did I have?

I carefully slipped into the changing room. And the timing couldn’t have been worse—or maybe it couldn’t have been better. There wasn’t a girl in the room with a shirt on, and there were very few girls wearing bras. I was surrounded by tits. I felt my face turning dark red. I quickly looked at the ground and made my way straight to the corner of the room. I noticed a few girls turning to look at me as I skirted by. “Hey new girl,” said one chick. I looked up and smiled. Her tits were perfect: perky with erect nipples that shot straight forward. The girl next to her had cone tits, which stood up impressively. I suddenly felt a throbbing between my legs. No eighteen-year-old boy should be exposed to a room full of young women and exposed tits. No penis can possibly remain flaccid under the circumstances.

So once I was in my corner, I made sure to keep my back to everyone. I slipped my outfit out from my bag. I started by slipping my gym shorts on underneath my skirt. Then I pulled the skirt off and stuffed it into my bag. Next, it was time to change my shirt. I pulled off my blouse and then I felt a tapping on my bare shoulder. I quickly covered my chest and looked back.

A cute brunette was standing behind me. She was wearing a lacy pink bra and matching pink panties. “Hey—you’re the new girl, right?”

I nodded my head quickly. I was too exposed. What if she noticed my Adam’s apple? Would she become furious? Would the girls murder me for being in their change room? What if they found out my truth in a few days? Surely they wouldn’t be okay with me having seen them all naked. Surely they would make me pay…

“I just wanted to let you know—Mr. Greenwald, the gym teacher, is a bit of a perv. He gives girls better marks if they show more skin. I don’t know if he knows that he does it. It’s kind of a running joke around here—but I’m assuming you want a better grade, right?”

I nodded my head, slowly processing what she was saying to me.

“Here. Put your shirt on,” she said, handing me my own shirt. I had to expose my small tits in order to get the shirt onto my body. The girl didn’t seem to care that my tits were so small. She reached down and grabbed the base of my shirt once it was on my body. She tied it into a cute knot at my sternum. Then she sunk to her knees and rolled up the cuffs of my already short shorts. Her fingers were awfully close to touching my cock, which was still throbbing and possibly starting to grow. But she didn’t notice. “You probably think this is silly, but it’s worth it. If you get an A+ in gym, it will pull your average up quite a bit. It’s one of the little advantages to being a girl. C’mon—we’re going to be late for class. Tie your hair up. Do you have an elastic? Want to borrow one? Here—c’mon.” She turned around and started jogging to the door. That’s when I noticed that she had her shorts rolled up so short that her bum was poking out and bouncing gloriously right before my eyes. I admired how sexy she was. I wanted to be that sexy. I wanted to flaunt my perfect ass in front of everyone.

I got a little taste of that amazing feeling during gym class. We took turns running laps around the gymnasium: guys first, then girls. While we were running, the guys watched with glowing eyes. Who could blame them? Half of the girls had their shirts tied up and their shorts hiked up, practically making them into panties. We were giving them a free show—and many of them were staring right at me. I tried to fight back the smile, but it was hard, especially after one of the boys whistled at me as I ran by. I was having fun and I felt strangely free. No one knew who I really was, and I really felt like I could do anything I wanted. I could say anything I wanted without having to face any real repercussions. In a way, I was living every young man’s dream.