As he caressed my thighs with one hand...

[Transgender Stories]

This is a story for those who enjoy reading about forced hormonal
feminization, not just guys dressing up in female clothes. It tells what
happens when two young boys are send to a unique school where--much to the
younger one's surprise--they undergo special physical and hormonal
treatment programs. The younger one is given female hormones (against his
knowledge, untl it is too late), his roommate is given male hormones that
turn him into a super masculine stud, with predictable results.

This story contains some graphic scenes. Please do not read it if this
topic disturbs you.


Ever since he'd first moved in next door ten years ago, Jim and I had been
best friends. He was a year and a half older than me, so he always seemed
to know more cool stuff to do -- more about places to hang out and things
to keep us busy. We went to the same school and had similar interests, and
our families were both Italian, which made for rather interesting family
get-togethers. I guess you could say we were typical young teenagers.


Another summer was drawing to a close, but it had definitely been a good
one. Jim, me, and a couple of our friends had hung out quite often, and we
were able to spend awesome amounts of time playing football, soccer, and
various other sports. We had actually formed two mini football teams, and
in the last game I was pleased to have scored several times. (We have that
game on tape). At one point a guy on my team threw me the ball, and I ran,
viciously smashing into Jim and knocking him down, all the way to the most
exciting touchdown I think I've ever scored. Jim and I definitely respected
each other's athletic abilities.

But my favorite times were when he and I would go camping alone in the
woods not far from our houses. There was a perfect spot about a two mile
hike away, and we had spent a couple nights out there this summer. Jim
would sneak some of his older brother's girly magazines out of the house,
and in the tent at night we would sit up and he would show them to me. He
really enjoyed those magazines. Sometimes he would get so horny and excited
by them that he would just reach down and start playing with himself right
there next to me. I quickly learned that doing as he was doing was
enjoyable, though I realized it was more because he was there with me than
because I was into looking at the pictures of women. There was something
about his dark brown hair and big pleasant grin I found captivating. Being
with him at times like that even made me horny. I never told him this (he
would have thought I was weird), but I enjoyed time with him just the same.

It was that August, a few months before I turned fourteen, that we learned
his parents were sending him to a special small boarding junior and senior
high school in North Carolina. It was called the New Outlooks school, and
was really far away. I didn't know much about it, but begged my parents to
send me, too. Since both we and our families were such good friends, Jim
had his parents talk to mine and even got them to consider it.

After what seemed like forever, my parents finally brought up the subject
of deciding whether or not to send me along. "Do you -really- want to go,
Matt? Are you sure? This is such a big step." I couldn't understand why
they were making such a big deal of it (I knew they could afford
it). Eventually, they saw my mind was made up and agreed. As Jim told me
more details about the school (though he seemed to be holding back some
information) he said he was glad I'd be there with him in such a new,
far-away place.

Because of a late registration problem, we ended up arriving two weeks
after the rest of the students. Because of its size, the New Outlooks
school only accepted one new class of students every two years, so we were
greatful to have gotten in by the deadline. We got there just before noon
the first Sunday in September. The best news came just after our arrival:
the school was willing to let us be roommates. After an emotional drop-off
from all of the parents involved, Jim and I brought our bags to our
room. The dorm area was arranged by the year students came to the school;
our room was the last one in a hall of students who had just arrived at the
school two weeks earlier. The rooms were nice -- each had a full bathroom,
two beds, dressers, and desks. After setting down our things, we proceeded
to the front desk, to begin the school's full orientation program.

Halfway through orientation, while we were shown the athletic facilities,
we were told we would be undergoing a "preliminary check." They said it was
part of orientation, so although we were surprised, we figured we might as
well get it out of the way. The director did all the usual health checks,
from eyes and ears to scoliosis screening. We were then brought into the
weight room for strength tests, before returning to the director's office.

While we were waiting, the director and a guy who looked like a doctor were
quietly discussing our entry to the school on the other side of the
room. We could only hear part of what they were saying.

"He is ... almost fourteen, the other fifteen and a half," said the
director. "The older one ... blue," said the doctor. "The younger one
... not even a year into ... so the treatment ... effective on him...pink."

The director nodded, and gestured for us to come over. He immediately asked
Jim to hold out his arms. He then snapped light blue colored plastic bands
on Jim's wrists and ankles. When my turn came, I was surprised to find that
the bands put on me were pink in color. We asked what they were for. The
director said that though we were roommates, our age difference made it
best for us to be in separate programs. The bands, which he said we had to
wear at all times, were the symbols for these programs. Jim was what was
going to be what they called a "Blueband," and I was to be a "Pinkband."
The explanation was strange, but we accepted it, and a few minutes later we
continued with orientation.

We learned that the school had a strict (and very thorough) dress code,
with Bluebands and Pinkbands each required to wear very specific
clothing. The school was big on physical education, with which many classes
were intermixed, so most of the clothes we were given were similar to gym
clothes. Bluebands, like Jim, were assigned loose athletic shirts (tank top
style), trim sweat pants or windbreaker pants, and athletic shorts, all in
colors of navy blue, green, or black. They were permitted their choice of
boxer shorts or briefs, and they were encouraged to wear jock straps during
more serious forms of athletic activity. Clothing for Pinkbands (like me)
was theoretically similar, but there were a few curious differences -- all
Pinkband clothes were of a few shades of pastel, or white. The clothes were
also cut differently -- the special athletic shirts were short-sleeved,
like a very short sleeved t-shirt only much tighter fitting (especially on
the shoulders), the sweats fit more loosely, and the shorts were
split-legged and came up quite a bit higher on the legs (especially on the
outsides). Pinkbands were assigned special bikini-type briefs, which came
up even higher on the legs.They had very thin elastic at the top (unlike
the boxers I was used to) and, although they fit snugly, they streched a
lot and were soft, so I guessed they'd be comfortable. It felt wierd to
admit it but they kind of looked a bit girly. Oddly, the director said
since I was a Pinkband, I probably wouldn't need and wasn't being given a
jock strap.

We were given our clothing and a break from orientation to go back to our
rooms and get into the appropriate attire. As I was changing, one last
thing about the clothes struck me as strange -- the shorts and sweats,
regardless of whether they were for Bluebands or Pinkbands, all seemed to
be cut closely between the legs. Because of this there was a bit of a bulge
visible where the material draped over one's genitals. At first I was
afraid I'd be the one with the smallest bulge, but I later noticed there
were PinkBands who seemed to have smaller ones, so I didn't feel as
self-conscious.

While we were still in the room the guys from the room across the hall
popped in to introduce themselves. Their names were Chris and Pat. They
were also best friends, and had come to the school from a small town in New
Hampshire. We happened to be about the same ages, too -- Chris, like Jim,
was fifteen and a half, and was a Blueband. He seemed like a good-looking
all-American type of guy, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a square jaw, and
he looked like he would be awesome at sports. Pat, a Pinkband, was about
five months younger than me, and was looking forward to his fourteenth
birthday in December. He, like Chris, had blond hair and blue eyes, though
Pat was very much more of what you might call a "pretty boy." I thought he
looked a little young for our age. We chatted for a few minutes and asked
them how they liked the school. Chris said he loved the sports program, and
Pat told us the cafeteria was pretty good. But by then Jim and I had to
return for the rest of orientation, so we all agreed to hang out later at
dinner.

Back in the director's office, Jim and I were told there was a strict
day-to-day schedule which was to be observed, with punishment for those who
did not comply. A normal day started at 7:30 with breakfast, by which time
we were expected to have showered and thoroughly prepared ourselves for the
day. By 8:00 we were to appear for our daily physical examinations, and
then from 8:15, with only a few brief interruptions for lunch and exercise,
classes were held until 4:00. Physical Education was held in the gym from
then until our 6:30 dinner, and we were expected to study from 7:15 until
lights-out at 9:15. We would be given hair cuts every five or six weeks.

Aside from a few ordinary enough differences as far as the classes we were
taking, there were more things that seemed strange, though. There were
differences in privileges depending on whether one was a Blueband or a
Pinkband. Bluebands, for "physical and psychological release," were allowed
to visit the gym and weight rooms at any time after study hours and before
breakfast, as long as they felt they were getting enough sleep to keep up
in their studies. They could also use whatever equipment they wanted in the
gym -- everything from weight benches to nautilus machines -- while
Pinkbands were only allowed to use smaller free weights, stair climbers and
stuff like that. I wasn't sure why the school had these different
standards, but I figured most of it probably wouldn't affect me all that
much. I really just wanted to keep in shape, and with all that time devoted
to class and study, I doubted I'd have much extra energy anyway.

Another strange thing I noticed is that the class above us (which had been
at the school for two years now) didn't have any Pinkbands in it at
all. Half of the older students were Bluebands, all looking a lot more
mature than we did. The other half of the students were girls, all wearing
yellow bands. There were no girls at all in our class, so I wondered if the
school was phasing out its co-ed program. One of the other guys in our
class said he heard that the school was trying several new experimental
programs, so I figured that must have been it.

By the time we had gotten through the orientation program it was already
5:30. Jim and I were told that since it was so late, we would be given our
initial examinations and would then be sent to the cafeteria for dinner. We
were led down a long hallway into the nurse's office, where a fairly
unremarkable-looking middle-aged woman directed us into two separate little
rooms to wait for the doctor. I sat down on a chair in the corner and tried
to relax, figuring it would probably take a while.

The room was a fairly typical medical exam room from what I could tell. It
was painted a dull yellowish color, and looked like it had all the basic
doctor's equipment and stuff. I had just begun to read a diagram on one of
the walls when I heard a knock on the door. I remember being surprised by
how short a wait it was.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Mark," said the emerging man. He was the same doctor we'd seen
earlier in the director's office, maybe 50 years old and grey-haired, with
a trim beard. A woman followed him in. She was a bit younger than him, and
had medium-length and kind of flat brown hair. They both smiled
pleasantly.

"This is Nurse Leigh," the doctor continued. "We're glad you and your
friend are joining the school. Tonight we are going to give you our full
exam to make sure you are healthy, so just relax. We'll be done in a few
minutes."

Earlier, Jim and I had been told we would be recieving daily physical exams
from this point on. Though I knew these were going to be shorter, less
thorough goings-over, I was still curious why they thought we needed to be
examined so often, so I figured I'd ask a few questions.

"Well," the doctor said, "Here at New Outlooks our goal isn't only to have
you -learn- all kinds of things -- we also want to get you in your best
-physical- condition. As you know you'll be going through a very special
physical conditioning program and spending a lot of time in a unique Phys
Ed program as well as the traditional classroom, so we're going to be
keeping careful track of your progress."

Even though I thought I was in pretty good shape physical shape already,
the explanation seemed pretty logical, and I really didn't feel the need to
ask much more. I measured up at 5' 5 1/2" tall, and with my fairly trim
athletic build weighed in at 125 Lbs. I sat on the exam table, and Doctor
Mark gestured for me to lift my shirt. After probing for a bit and
measuring my chest and arms in a few places, he wrote a couple things down
on his clipboard. I wondered what he was thinking. Though I had not even
yet reached 14, I had been proudly watching the early beginnings of body
hair start to grow in over the past few months or so. While most of it was
still in my pubic region, I already had a faint line of light hair running
up to my belly button, and I knew the faint peach fuzz now growing on the
center of my chest would soon be getting much darker and thicker. (I had
just recently seen my 18-year old brother shirtless in the bathroom at
home, and he had a really thick, very manly-looking chest of hair. All the
men in our family had nice hairy chests; you could see we were
Italian). But for now Jim had edge on me here -- the last time I caught a
glimpse at his chest he had a small patch of darker hairs -- but
considering he was a year and a half older than I was, I knew I'd catch up
nicely.

My little daydream ended as Doctor Mark finished writing, and gestured for
me to stand. He said he had to take a few pictures of me, and that these
would be part of my normal, weekly medical exam to track my development. He
had me step into a side room and told me remove all of my clothes. Then I
had to stand in front of a plain wall while he snapped a picture of me in
the nude (He took one picture with me facing him arms down, and one with my
arms straight out to the sides. Then he took similar pictures with me
facing the wall. I was really embarrassed by this point, but luckily it
didn't take long, and he let me get re-dressed right away. Then we went
back to the regular exam room where Nurse Leigh way waiting.

Next the doctor measured my waist and hips, then asked me to pull my sweats
and underwear down a bit so he could continue the exam. I was a bit
embarrassed with Nurse Leigh in the room, but I noticed she'd kept her back
turned most of the time, and she seemed to be busy working with something
on the counter. The doctor continued taking measurements with a couple
pieces of equipment, even going to far as to record the size and mass of my
testicles. The next part of the exam was a little strange, but I didn't
want to seem like a wimp so I did as I was told. The Doctor quietly asked
me to manipulate myself, as he needed to take one last measurement. Though
I was very nervous, it only took a few moments before my member was
standing at full attention. Without touching it, he held a tape measure
next to me for a second, and then returned to his notes.

I was now considerably nervous, and Dr. Mark's next action didn't help. He
turned to Nurse Leigh.

"3 3/4 inches flaccid, and not quite five erect," he reported. "Just
smaller than average for the age; perfect." I was mortified. I felt myself
blush and tighten up as she muttered a quiet "mm-hmm," turned around, and
walked toward me holding a small bottle with a bright pink label and what
looked like the most gigantic needle I'd ever seen! It looked like
something that might be used for horses -- not people! My stomach was in
knots, and I was now scared in addition to being completely embarrassed.

"Don't worry," she said, "This can be strange and frightening at first, but
you'll get used to it. We are the only one's who will be looking at your
med records and measurements."

Her comments did nothing to ease my tension. Nurse Leigh stepped next to me
with the lance of a needle. She turned the bottle upside down and began
drawing clear fluid into the syringe. I was even more tense now. I wondered
if the pink bottle had anything to do with my being put in the Pinkband
part of the program. "Here," she said. "It'll be over soon enough."

In a matter of seconds she had pulled down the back of my sweats. I felt a
sharp sting and was in agony for what seemed like forever. But eventually
it stopped.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Mark said. "You know, the calmer you are, the less the
needles will hurt. But if it makes any difference, most of your shots will
be much smaller than this one. This was a special preparatory mixture to
help begin conditioning your body. We shouldn't need to give you this much
at once from this point on."

"-Most of my shots-," -- "From this point on?" His attempt to comfort me
definitely did nothing of the sort. The thought of routine needles
certainly was not pleasant. But the exam was finally over, and I was
relieved to be able to finally leave the room.

As I stepped out I saw Jim was already in the waiting area, and he, too,
seemed a bit shaken up. Before we left, the doctor told us he wanted us
both to come in an hour and a half early for our exam the following
morning. We were both very quiet as we walked through the dimmly-lit halls
to the cafeteria. It was at this time I also learned that there were
dietary differences between the pink and blueband programs. While Bluebands
could eat whatever they wanted (Jim immediately requested a steak),
Pinkbands were not allowed to consume meat, cheese, or beans over the first
three months they were at the school. The only dairy foods we were
permitted were milk and yogurt, and these were special vitamin-fortified
varieties that Bluebands were not allowed. It was kind fo strage to
suddenly not be able to eat protein foods, but at this point it wasn't
something I was very concerned with.

We took our trays and sat down next to Chris and Pat, both of whom were
still a bit sweated from the Phys Ed they just gotten back from. Pat turned
out to be right -- the food actually was excellent -- but I was too sick to
my stomach to eat much.

"It'll pass eventually," Pat said. "I'm still not fully used to it, but its
not as bad after the first week."

Oddly, Jim and Chris seemed a bit unsure of what we were talking about. Jim
said he was a little sore from a needle, but that otherwise he felt
fine. Chris said about the same thing; though the needles hurt a bit, he
hadn't been nausious at all since he and Pat arrived two weeks ago. Pat
said he thought my upset stomach had something to do with the injections
they were giving Pinkbands like me and him, but that other Pinkbands had
also mentioned most of the queasiness passes in time. In any case, we all
finished our dessert and headed back to our rooms.

Later that night I had a headache in addition to the nausia. Before either
of us had fallen asleep I built up my courage and fired a question out of
the blue at Jim. "Jim...about the shot they gave you," I said, "...Was the
bottle they took the stuff from pink?"

"No," he answered, laughing as if I was being ridiculous. "It was blue."

-----

I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. The room was so hot I found
myself sweating quite often -- and strangely, I also was shivering from the
cold now and then. At one point during the night I overheard a rustling
sound from over at Jim's bed. I realized what he was doing and tried not to
listen. But despite my nausea, just as it has been during our occassional
camping trips, the rhythmic sound was fascinating and I found myself horny
and also masturbating, secretly trying to time my release to his. A few
minutes later it was over, and I finally drifted off to sleep.

-----

By morning I was now quite sleepy in addition to lightheaded. I also felt a
little depressed. After quickly getting ready, we proceeded to the Nurse's
office early, as we were suppposed to. I was starting to get scared again,
but even Jim said I should try to relax. He said he had slept fine and felt
great, and that I might just be a bit under the weather from the change in
surroundings. Since it was Jim saying this, after all, I decided to give
him the benefit of the doubt.

The exam I had that morning included a procedure that was every bit as
strange as some of the others. The Doctor said I would only be recieving it
twice, though: once during this exam and once next week. After Nurse Leigh
left the room, he put on a pair of latex gloves and approached me with two
jars. One jar was full of this bright pink colored cream, and the other
with a sticky-looking clear gel. After almost completely filling a small
plastic sleeve or sheath (it looked like a very big condom with a tight
ring around the base) with the clear substance, he gestured for me to
remove my sweats, as he needed to apply some of the other cream to my
genital area.

I hesitated, but he assured me that this wouldn't hurt. "Come on, now," he
said, "it really won't. This is a special cream to help deal with your
development." When I was still hesitant, he quickly got very
impatient. "You know, I might add that you don't have a choice on this
matter. This is a required procedure, and if you don't at least try to
cooperate I can recommend disciplinary action. Do you really want to be -in
trouble-?"

I quickly shook my head. As I slowly lowered the front of my sweats, he
handed me what looked like a clear plastic bag. Actually, I realized it was
kind of like underwear, with elastic around the leg holes and waist. After
applying a very thick coating of the bright pink cream on my genitals,
Doctor Mark slid the plastic sleeve/sheath all the way onto them. The
sleeve was like a condom in that it had an elastic band at the base (which
fit -really- tightly around the base of my penus and seemed to keep the
creams from leaking), but elsewhere it would have been way too loose.

"Isn't it too tight?" I asked, worried about how uncomfortable the sheath
felt on the base of my male organ.

"No. It won't be a problem. Just quit whining and take it like a man," the
doctor said, dryly.

Instead of being a regular condom, the sheath seemed instead to be designed
as a pouch to hold a thick mixture of the two creams on the penus. As soon
as they came into contact with each other, the creams started to smell
terrible, very musky, and they seemed to get warm immediately. They had a
gooey, heavy texture, which made me feel even more yucky. Doctor Mark said
I had to leave the plastic condom on for an hour and a half, and I should
put on the plastic underwear "just in case," to keep the creams from
leaking onto my sweats while I was waiting. Though I still thought this was
strange, I did as I was told, and returned to the waiting room, where there
were a number of magazines I could read to pass the time.

Jim had already been in the waiting room since before I'd arrived for my
exam, and I now realized that he must have been there because he was going
through some similar treatment. I was a little embarrassed to sit down next
to him, because the cream was very strong-smelling. I wondered what he was
thinking. Then I caught a whiff of what I guessed was his own treatment
cream. Again something was a little strange -- his cream definitely smelled
different. Whatever cream he was being treated with smelled sharp and
chemicalish, rather than musky.

After I had been sitting there for a few minutes, the area the doctor had
put cream started to tingle and feel very hot. The sensation was similar to
how your arm would feel if you were laying on it, kind of like it was
"falling asleep." It was getting harder and harder for me to ignore, and
the next thing I knew I had a full erection, which made the plastic sheath
so tight it hurt. As I discretely laid my hand across my lap to try and
hide it, I glanced over and it looked like Jim must have been having the
same sensation and problem. About an hour afterward he was called back into
the exam room, still embarassingly holding a hand in front of his
crotch. Five minutes later he left to go back to the room. Luckily my
hard-on didn't last that long, so I didn't have to worry about being
embarrassed. After only another half an hour or so it gradually faded,
though the whole area was still burning and tingling madly.

Just as the heat and tingling on my genitals and the strong smell were
starting to get unbearable, Doctor Mark called me back in the office. As I
lowered my sweats I saw that the two layers of creams had apparently mixed
while I'd been sitting there. Instead of two layers -- the thick, bright
pink stuff on my penus and the sticky clear gel on top of that -- the cream
was now uniformly a pearly pink color, and much more liquidy. Doctor Mark
had me remove the plastic sheath and carefully wiped the cream off me. Then
he very -very- carefully removed his gloves. I asked him why he was being
so cautious not to touch the cream, but he didn't answer me -- all he did
was chuckle. He just said that after the exam was over I could go back to
my room, shower and clean up, and then proceed to breakfast.

The rest of that exam only lasted 15 minutes. Dr. Mark said my nausea and
other symptoms were "typical," and that I shouldn't worry, I wasn't getting
sick or anything. Nurse Leigh came back in the room, produced another pink
bottle and gave me an injection, though thankfully this one was much
smaller than the first one. Dr. Mark handed me a bottle full of large,
round light-pink pills.

"These vitamins will balance your system, help get rid of the nausea, and
keep you healthy," he said. "This is very important. Make sure you take
them every day -- one before breakfast, one before lunch, and one
immediately after dinner, otherwise you could start feeling sick again."


I immediately took one of the vitamins, which smelled faintly chemicalish,
and rushed to the room for a quick shower. I normally enjoyed showering,
but in this case the experience was less than pleasurable because I had to
hurry to make it to the cafeteria on time. I noticed my penus was dark
purplish red (especially at the head) and almost completely numb from the
cream, and a little black and blue from the tight elastic, but I didn't
really have much time to think about it. A few minutes later I was in the
cafeteria munching on breakfast.

My first day of classes went well enough. Despite our age difference, Jim
was in two of them with me, and what ones he wasn't Pat was in. I noted two
of my classes consisted entirely of Pinkbands, which was another strange
thing about this school. But the teachers seemed nice, and the work was
just about what we were doing when I left our old school in June.

All things considered, Jim and I were settled in well over the rest of that
week. I still felt pretty depressed for a while but I figured the new
surroundings must have been part of that. The vitamins must have really
helped my stomach, because after a few days it was almost normal again,
though I was also feeling somewhat more emotional than usual. (I actually
broke down crying quite a few times that week, for no apparent reason). I
also felt a little strange physically, in a way that was really difficult
to describe. I guess the closest thing would be to say my body felt really
calm, in a dull sort of way. But at the same time, it was nice to feel so
relaxed and laid back, and I soon found myself sleeping very soundly the
whole night through. Jim and I gradually found we had a lot in common with
Chris and Pat. Jim and Chris started to spend a lot more time together down
at the gym, leaving me and Pat time to also become better friends.

Our daily medical exams consisted a few basic checks, but most of them
usually took less than 15 minutes. I learned that Jim's procedure, like
Chris's, was a bit different than mine and Pat's. Bluebands didn't get as
many shots as we did -- the doctor said the vitamins they were taking were
different than ours, and their needs were different. So Pat and I, like all
Pinkbands, would have to endure the needle once every two or three days. It
actually wasn't as bad as it sounds. Aside from a headache and ocassional
nausea that seemed to happen around the day of a shot, we were getting used
to the routine.

------

That weekend we recieved our more thorough, weekly exam, which was similar
to the first one except that, thankfully, the giant needle was left out in
favor of what was becoming one of the usual, smaller ones. The doctor also
took some more pictures.

During the measurements, I got a little nervous when it took a while longer
than in the last exam for me to get an erection. I also wasn't as hard as
usual, but Dr. Mark said not to worry. "Same flaccid, 4 inches partial," he
told nurse Leigh. I was then given my shot and was sent outside to the
athletic grounds, where Jim and many of the others were already enjoying
the fresh air.

Weekend afternoon activities were nice. We were encouraged to participate
in a variety of outdoor activities. There was a decent swimming pool
(though I didn't swim), as well as fields for soccer and other sports. Jim
and I used to play soccer often at our old school, so the following weekend
he talked me into playing with him and a few of the other guys. Pat, who
was also in the group outside, said he wasn't really in the mood for such a
high energy game, so he went over to play volleyball with a few other
people. I actually understood what he meant -- soccer with these guys
looked like it could indeed get rough, and volleyball was a bit less crazy
-- but Jim really wanted me to play. (Strangely, most of the Bluebands
seemed to be playing soccer, while the volleyball players looked like they
were almost all Pinkbands).

The soccer game lasted for quite a while that day. The team Jim and I
played on won, though I probably didn't have that much of a part in the
victory. A lot of the Bluebands kept getting very aggressive with the
ball. I was afraid I would get hurt, so I kind of kept my distance from
most of the action. I didn't know why I hadn't felt this way before, but
soccer suddenly seemed so crazy, fierce and competitive. I decided next
time to play volleyball with Pat and them, where the game seemed friendlier
and more relaxed, and I could feel more like part of the team.

That Sunday night Jim and Chris decided to grab some extra time at the gym
again, so Pat came in the room to hang out with me. We were having a very
pleasant and fairly regular conversation for two thirteen or fourteen year
olds, until he suddenly hesitated, as if debating whether or not to ask me
something. "Matt?" he asked. "Yea," I said, "What is it?"

"Well, this is kind of weird. I was just wondering if you've been noticing
something. Have you, ah, been having trouble lately, you know, getting
hard?" He rubbed his chest and hesitated for a second, and then suddenly
pulled down the front of his shorts to show me his genitals. He startled me
so much that for the longest time I was too surprised to say a word. I
suddenly realized that I hadn't even though about jerking off since the
week before. I didn't know what to say. It didn't help matters that he felt
the need to show me. His male organ was a bit smaller than mine, but then
he was a few months younger than I was, and was also a little shorter
heightwise. I paused for a few moments, then slowly looked back up at
him. He had tears in his eyes, though he didn't seem to be sad, just
curious.

"Well, I really haven't, um, thought much about playing with it lately," I
slowly admitted, realizing that in about two weeks I had completely
forgotten about what used to be a favorite passtime. How could I not have
been horny during all that time? I had noticed my penus seemed a bit more
sensitive than usual, but other than that I (very strangely) couldn't
recall paying much attention to it at all.

I looked back up at Pat in embarrassment. "I don't know why, but I ... I
really haven't thought about it," I said. "But I did have a little trouble
doing it yesterday for Dr. Mark." I felt awkward, like I should show him my
own member since he was brave enough to show me his, so I briefly lowered
by shorts, as he had done.

"I haven't been thinking of it much either," he confessed. "Until
yesterday. I was with Dr. Mark, too, he was waiting to measure me
and... Its just... Well, nothing happened. ... It wouldn't get up. I
couldn't do it." He paused and again started gently rubbing the left side
of his chest.

By now I was feeling really uncomfortable, so I just decided to change the
subject, and we quickly returned to discussing a homework assignment that
was due the next day. I just couldn't think about such an unpleasant topic.

I was forced to do just that by the time my weekend exam came around the
next weekend. During the week, I had been given another treatment with
those smelly creams, which again left my penus purple and numb for a day or
so, but again I hadn't really had time to pay much attention to what was
going on. At least until my exam that weekend, when it became time for
measurements. When the appropriate time came, I tried and tried and
tried. But even though it somehow seemed more sensitive than usual, I
couldn't coax my poor penus into getting anything, not even a small semi. I
could feel myself blushing as the doctor waited. After five minutes he
became obviously impatient. "Is it happening or not?" he asked,
abruptly. Eventually he simply gestured that I could stop trying.

"That's okay -- forget about it," said Dr. Mark. "Flaccid size, no change
-- still three inches," he relayed to Nurse Leigh. He immediately began
writing something on my chart. I caught a glimpse of it when he turned for
a second to whisper something to the nurse. There, next to the date, he had
scribbled the short phrase, "Subject has reached complete impotence."
Seeing that word hit me like a truck. I put my head down and quietly made
my way back to the dorm room. I had no idea what was going on. Other than
what Pat had said, I knew only that Jim could not have been having the same
problem. Lately I had been hearing him -- and it seemed he must have been
energetically masturbating several times a night. When I went to bed later
that night, in a vain effort to prove the doctor wrong, I tried to
stimulate myself to erection. Once again, it didn't work at all. I was
trying and trying but only got my genitals sore. After quite a while, I was
still able to satisfy myself, but my penus stayed soft as a marshmallow the
whole time, and when I felt the unusually gradual release, only a drop or
two of clear fluid oozed out. I felt unbelievably embarrassed for myself
and quietly fell asleep crying. Doctor Mark never asked for an erection
measurement again.

-- -- --

Time seemed to run quickly under our busy schedules, and before I knew it,
Jim and I had already been at the New Outlooks school for over six
weeks. We had both been getting reasonably decent grades, so we were put on
the Extended Priviledges list and were now given an extra hour of free time
each night. Jim, not surprisingly, put most of his to use for sports and
other gym activities. He had even started getting up early just so he could
go for an extra workout. I didn't know where he was getting all this energy
from. But all the extra physical activity was starting to show. We both had
been in the habit of sleeping shirtless for the past few years, and we'd
kept that habit here at the school. Lately I noticed his muscles were
starting to fill out and develop. He seemed stronger. I was fascinated by
the way his biceps and pecs were beginning to bulge even when he wasn't
flexing them. I was also amazed at how fast his chest hair was growing in
-- he had a nice little crop of it right in the center of his sternum that
seemed more noticeable than it used to be.


I, on the other hand, was definitely not growing muscle. Lately it seemed
as if the heavy metal doors around the school were getting even heavier. I
felt more or less okay, but was physically weaker and seemed to need more
sleep than I used to. Despite my own Pinkband physical ed classes and
activities (which admittedly didn't involve any weight lifting), I was
actually losing muscle mass and tone. I couldn't believe how quickly I'd
lost the muscle!


Partly to blame for this must have been the Pinkband diet, which seemed
very low in protein. And then there was a week-long seminar that Pinkbands
were required to take beginning after our second week, which had altered
our schedule. For seven straight days we had hardly any physical
activity--we'd simply sat the whole day in an auditorium. It was kind of
strange in that none of us seemed to remember what the seminar was about
(we all seemed to have dozed off each day right after it started). But ever
since then I had been feeling pretty weak and cautious because of it.

And that weak feeling showed in our appearances. By now I looked quite a
bit less built -- actually I couldn't believe how much muscle I'd lost. My
body was starting to look really wimpy. Whenever I flexed my biceps,
instead of the tight round knob I'd just been starting to show, the muscle
that showed now was only a slight, barely noticeable arch. My chest had no
noticeable muscle tone at all anymore. While I hadn't yet developed a real
six pack on my stomach, I used to at least be able to feel the muscles that
were there. Now, my stomach was completely smooth and soft. And so was
nearly all of my skin. Both the thin trail of hair to my belly button and
the peach fuzz I used to have on my chest had faded. The only place my body
hair still seemed to be growing in was under my arms and in my pubic area
(where it was getting thicker, but had started growing in a triangular
shape; it didn't trail upward at all any more). The worst part about losing
so much muscle was that it was so impossible to hide, because of
snug-fitting Pinkband clothing. All of the Pinkbands had been looking
wimpy--almost frail lately. The only positive thing I could say was that
the slight acne I had when I arrived had completely cleared up.

My classes had been going well, and most of my grades were A's and B's,
with one very noticeable exception. For the past few weeks I had been
having a trouble keeping up in math -- I'd gotten a C- on my last exam!
Back at our old school, it had been my best (and favorite) subject, and I
had for a long time been hoping to become an accountant. But lately, even
though my math work wasn't much more involved than what I'd done before, it
was suddenly seeming really hard. It was exhausting, too, and had gotten to
feel so unpleasant that I was starting to hate going to class.

One time when I was back in Phys Ed, doing sit-ups with the other
Pinkbands, I realized that I seemed to smell different than I used to. I
craned my neck over so I could smell under my arm better and was a bit
stunned. Instead of the almost metallic body scent I used to have, I now
smelled muskier. It wasn't an unpleasant odor; it just was different from
the way I used to smell. There were other changes I was noticing, too. Even
though I hadn't been eating as much as I used to, and despite having lost
muscle, I was starting to gain weight and had quickly put on two
pounds. (Although I was grateful--one Pinkband had gained almost 20
pounds!). My skin had gradually gotten a little lighter in color,
especially on my penus. Instead of being olive tan, its head was now a pale
pinkish-purple, and easily irritated (somehow that original, soft underwear
now felt uncomfortably rough), and both my penus and my testicles now felt
really soft when I squeezed them. I don't think I felt horny or had any
erections the whole time, although for some reason I still wasn't thinking
about this that much. The strangest thing of all -- and one that I *was*
paying a lot of attention to -- was that my nipples had been feeling overly
sensitive and very tingly. It was so bad that they now looked bright pink
and swollen from me rubbing them all the time. They'd had little lumps
under them for a while, and now the tips were actually sticking out a
little bit. I think other Pinkbands were having this problem too. For four
or five of the (mostly) younger guys it was so bad your could see little
bulges in their shirts.

In my weekly exam Nurse Leigh gave me special underwear that she said would
help keep my privates from getting irritated. They were basically light
pink bikini underwear, very high on the sides and similar to what I'd
already been given. But these new ones were made of a more delicate, much
softer satin material. They were also different in that they had a thin,
lacy elastic band at the top and around the legs. While my old underwear
had a kind of unisex quality about it, these new panties were definitely
designed for girls. But I didn't want to feel my privates irritated, and no
one would really see them, so I went in the side room and immediately put
them on without a fuss. When Dr. Mark continued his exam I learned that my
testicles had decreased in weight by 35% and in size by almost 20%. I
wasn't sure what this meant, though I had noticed they hadn't been bouncing
as much when I did my running in Phys Ed. Then the doctor gave me a special
cream to rub onto my sore nipples. He said if I rubbed it on them four
times a day it would help (although they seemed just as tingly and sore,
and if anything they were starting to bulge out a little more).

Another strange thing I started to notice was how fast hair was growing on
the heads of Pinkbands like Pat and me. Since we were only given haircuts
every five weeks (and the barber for some reason had been cutting less of
our hair off), our hair was gradually getting longer than that of the
Bluebands.

As we got ready for bed that night Jim and I were talking about our time at
New Outlooks. I really wanted to know if he'd noticed symtoms like mine, so
I led the conversation toward the changes we'd noticed in ourselves since
we'd arrived. While we were talking I noticed his voice, which had changed
the summer before, had over this time been continuing to deepen in pitch. I
had been expecting mine to start changing too, or at least cracking, but it
just wasn't. You couldn't really see my adam's apple, either. My voice was
still high and clear, and the extra contrast between our voices suddenly
made me feel awkward. Here was a boy who was obviously well on his way to
becoming a man, and then there was me, looking and feeling like a complete
wimp.

Jim said other than sometimes feeling tense and a bit frustrated, he'd
never felt better. He laughed at me when I mentioned my itchy nipples. He
said his had definitely never been itchy, and, though I was sure to reveal
nothing about myself in this regard, he bragged about feeling ... well,
especially potent lately.

After bragging some more, he changed the subject. "I'm going to change the
room around,'' he said. "I want your bed over on the other wall so I have
more room to do pushups in the corner!"

I absolutely hated this idea -- I really wanted to keep the room the way it
was, but I let him move everything. I don't know why I didn't
protest. Maybe I just didn't feel like challenging him, but I didn't say
anything. After a few seconds I looked up and realized he'd been staring at
my chest for a few seconds. I quivered and quickly looked away in
embarrassment (and a little fear) when I noticed the bulge rising in his
shorts.

------

About three weeks later, Jim, Chris, and the other Bluebands who'd come to
the school in our group were on a weekend field trip, leaving us Pinkbands
the only ones left in the dorm area. Pat came in my room that morning and
seemed to have something serious on his mind. His hair was tossled, and he
seemed a bit nervous. We began chatting, and eventually he brought up what
was bothering him. "I was talking with one of the guys down the hall," he
said, pausing to push back the hair that was hanging in his eyes. "They say
the injections they've been giving Pinkbands...well..."

"What?" I asked, now even more curious. "Well, I heard what they're giving
us is female hormones." "Look," he said, simultaneously lifting his shirt
up and pulling down the front of his shorts. My mouth dropped open as I saw
his penus. It definitely looked a little smaller. If he didn't have pubic
hair, I might have thought his private area belonged to a three or four
year old boy. Now that I thought about it, I realized what used to be a
bulge in his shorts (not that it was ever that noticeable) hadn't really
been visible at all lately. Perhaps out of fear, I didn't even glance down
toward my own shorts to look at mine.

However, I was truly frozen as I looked up at his chest. I knew that lately
you could see little bulges in almost every Pinkband's shirt, but until now
I hadn't actually seen any of the others' chests. Now that I saw Pat's, it
definitely looked a little fleshier. But it was his nipples that caught my
attention. They must have been over two inches across, pointing out at
least half an inch, and were bright pink in color. They were so conspicuous
now that they seemed the focal point of his chest. I shuddered in
fear. Even if my areoles weren't quite that bad, I knew they were becoming
more and more prominent, too.

That afternoon during my exam I decided to find out what was really going
on. Out of the blue, I turned to Dr. Mark while he was examining me. "What
are the injections we've been getting?" I asked. He hesitated, as if he was
surprised that I hadn't figured it out already, then offered a surprisingly
direct response. "Well, we've been giving Pinkbands like yourself a series
of rather powerful female hormones and male hormone blockers. The bands on
your wrists and ankles -- blue is for boys and pink is for -girls-. Haven't
you noticed that your body has been growing less and less masculine over
the past few months?" He turned to Nurse Leigh, "Penus is not even two and
a third inches; testicles now 40% the original weight and 55% the original
size--basically half the mass."

I tensed up. "Then what are the Bluebands getting?" I choked, even though I
had already figured out the answer. "They are being given special hormones
called gonadotrophins, which are making their testes extra active. That is
why unlike you and the other Pinkbands, they are getting more and more like
real men." "And what about me?" I pleaded. "You are developing
differently," he said. "Your body is already starting to show some early
female characteristics, such as early-stage breast development. These will
continue to become more pronounced. You're not developing into a
man. Pinkbands like you are never going to become men."

His cruel words were too much for me. As soon as the exam was over I rushed
back to my room. I quickly removed my clothes, and sat down on my bed
looking at my shrinking genitals. My pale penus was definitely a little
smaller. It looked weak -- pathetic, Like Pat's, as if it belonged to a
four year old. The tips of my bright pink nipples were swelling and
definitely pointing outward (already the size of the tip of my pinky), and
it seemed like ever since I'd started rubbing that cream on them the
areoles had been growing even larger and more noticeable. Even the curves
around my hips were starting to fill out and look softer, rounder. There
was almost no muscle definition anywhere on my body. Tears were starting to
run down my face and I started shaking. I ran into the bathroom in front of
the mirror and turned around to look at my back, hoping to see some sign of
muscle or maleness. As my eyes moved down toward my butt, I
shuddered. While my shape was not yet really feminine, it was definitely
much less masculine. My buttocks looked bigger and fleshier. It looked like
a smooth curve was forming where they met my upper thighs, which also
looked fuller. I panicked.

Frantically, I grabbed the bottle of pink "vitamins" I'd been given and
flushed them down the toilet. I ran to my desk, grabbed a scissor and
hacked off the pink bands on my wrists and ankles. I heaved open Jim's
dresser drawer and pulled out Blueband-style clothes: an athletic shirt,
and a pair of sweat pants. I couldn't find boxers or a jock strap in the
drawer, and panicked even more. Jim must not have done his laundry in
weeks!. I quickly reached into his hamper and pulled out the jock and
boxers he'd worn the day before. At first I hesitated, because the jock had
a massive stain in front and was still damp, as if Jim'd had a hell of a
wet dream before taking it off. But I knew a real man wears a jock when he
works out, and I desperately needed one, so I quickly slipped it on. It fit
very loosely, almost as if it had been stretched in the front (or had my
penus and scrotum shrunk that much?). Also, Jim was a bit taller than me so
the clothes also looked quite a bit loose, but I was determined to try to
build back what I had lost. I raced to the gym and immediately walked over
to the serious weight machines, hoping that if I pumped some iron I could
maybe fight off what was happening to me. I couldn't believe how heavy the
20-pound weights on the bicep machine seemed, but I struggled with them
fiercely.

I wasn't there for five minutes when two of the older Bluebands who were
working at one of the front desks came over. I started to tremble. They
must have been about 18. They had very broad shoulders and narrow hips, and
from the tense musculature of their upper bodies I knew they meant
business. "Where is your arm band?" barked one, in a very accusational
tone, "I don't see it."

Before I could answer they had both grabbed me. I struggled and screamed,
but they were so built and I was so weak that the best I could muster
barely even phased the arm-lock one of them was holding me in. Within
seconds they had called Dr. Mark and had dragged me down to the medical
office.

"I should have guessed this was going to happen," said the doctor. "Well,
you'll learn to obey the rules, one way or another."

Seconds later Nurse Leigh entered the room with a needle every bit as big
as that first one I'd recieved. "You have no choice," she said. ''Over the
past few months our anti-androgens have almost completely neutralized and
eliminated the production and action of male hormones in your body. Your
testicles are completelt inactive and shrinking. Your testosterone levels
as of this week's test are even lower than the trace levels a normal woman
would have, but apparently complete chemical castration is not enough to
tame you!"

As she walked toward me, she started drawing fluid from a large pink
bottle into the syringe. I tried again to struggle, but the two Bluebands
were still holding me down. Both of them had obvious erections. One of them
grabbed my sweats and panties and yanked both downward at once. As they
loosely dropped to my ankles I could feel the cool air against my butt and
legs. I instantly had goosebumps.

"Normally, for a minor punshment, we'd give someone your size 125 cc's of
this special cocktail of time-release hormones," the nurse threatened, as I
stood facing the wall with the lower half of my body completely
exposed. "But for a major violation like what you did, we are now going to
give you 900. This extra potent fluid will intoxicate your blood with the
equivalent of more than ten times the normal level of estrogens in a girl
your age. I suspect the sensation of all this suddenly burning through your
system will be quite unpleasant. We'll teach you to stay in your place!"
The sharp pierce of the needle alone almost made me pass out.

And then she picked up another bottle, and another needle.

"Now -this- will be your 'motivator,'" she sneered. "And, wonderfully, many
of its effects are permanent! It is a special chemical that encourages
functions of the central nervous system. More specifically, it affects the
sexual differentiation of the brain -- the development of a normal 'male
brain' or 'female brain' that happens before birth and during puberty. The
process is, of course, heavily influenced by a person's gender, which, from
the brain's perspective, is almost entirely determined by their sex
hormones. Can you just imagine what this will do to your brain with such an
unusually -massive- dose of female hormones circulating in your body?! This
will definitely take care of the lingering remnants of that macho spirit!"

I screamed and started struggling again. Again, to no avail, the needle was
plunged into my other buttock.

"Now we are going to give you a new bottle of supplements-vitamins. Keep in
mind that with these hormones in your body you will feel even sicker than
your first day here if you don't take these regularly." I was trembling all
over and felt so weak I could barely walk as the two Bluebands escorted me
back to my room. They forcefully removed the clothing I'd taken from Jim
and put me back in my own soft panties. They were both starting at my
enlarged, brightly colored nipples, and I still felt completely naked. One
of them walked up in front of me, and, after a brief hesitation, kneed me
hard in the groin. As I keeled forward to grab myself he siezed my head
with both hands, brought his lips within two inches of mine and whispered,
"I bet you wish you didn't have those little peanuts -now-, huh?" As he
stepped back the other Blueband came back over to me. He was stood right in
front of me, close enough to jab the tip of his strong erection right
between my balls. I was trembling and quivering as he reached around my
waist and ran his big, rough hand underneath my soft underwear and between
my buttocks. "Don't fight it," he said. "One day you'll really appreciate
the changes you are going through. Why -- "

"Come on, Shane, we have to get back to the gym," interrupted the other
Blueband, "You want the Doc to get pissed?" As the two of them left I flung
the new pill bottle across the room and curled up crying, keeping one hand
on my crotch, which, strangely, wasn't throbbing for quite as long as I
thought it would.

The rest of that night was horrible. The shots I'd been given had me
feeling so sick and dizzy that I skipped dinner. I must have dry heaved
more than ten times. I felt horribly feverish. Pat had come knocking on the
door but I pretended not to be in. I was so nausious and depressed I didn't
want to see anybody. Eventually I felt so tired and so queasy that I just
couldn't take it anymore, and I swallowed one of the new pills.

-----

I woke up the next morning to discover Jim was back. He looked like he was
getting ready to go to the gym, but he paused when he realized I was
awake. "They told me what happened," he said. "Is it really that fucking
bad?!! I mean, why can't you just do what they want?" I couldn't believe he
was saying this -- and then I again I saw he was looking at my chest. A
huge bulge was starting to rise between his legs. Without saying a word I
rolled over and started crying. Jim said he was sorry and left for his
workout. I wore a shirt to bed from that night on.

I was still very dizzy and nauseous over the next week, but the feelings
eventually subsided, as did some of my urge to resist. It really was no use
trying. What was the point? I mean, I couldn't run away, and if I tried
anything atypical there were always older Bluebands around who noticed, and
I knew I'd be brought in for another punishment. By now my body had already
been forced down the road to substantial feminization, enough so I knew
even if the treatments were stopped I would never mature into a real stud
like Jim, or even a normal man like my brother. I mean, I had already lost
what were maybe the most important first few months of male puberty. My
nipples were already big enough to show as a bulge through every shirt I
had. My testicles were half their original size--hardly capable of making
me anything of a man even if I could get away or get them to stop injecting
me with estrogens. My body had become accostomed to the female hormones in
my bloodstream, and I learned if I missed a single dose of the pink
"vitamins" I would quickly begin to feel sick and horribly depressed again.

It was a short time after this that the Pinkbands were told that New
Outlooks, in addition to being a school, was also a medical research
facility for human sexuality and development. Pat and I were also shocked
to discover that apparently some of the entrance forms our parents had
signed for us were actually release forms, authorizing the school to put us
in this program, and stating that we'd expressed a solid interest in it. No
wonder they had been so shocked and reluctant when they learned I wanted to
come here!

-- -- --

While I absolutely hated the medical side of life at New Outlooks, I found
that at least some of the work wasn't too bad, math again excepted. (Me and
several other Pinkbands, including Pat, had been dropped down to a much
less involved math class, eliminating my hopes of being an accountant). But
now that our other classes had been underway for almost four months, we
were getting into some more enjoyable lessons those courses. As part of one
of our classes, we all went outside into the many acres of woods
surrounding the school to study the ecosystem. We were split up into pairs
(our roommates, actually) for little expeditions in different parts of the
area. Things were going really well for the first few hours, until I
decided to answer a call of nature behind one of the bushes. As Jim waiting
for me nearby, I stepped closer to the shrubs to minimize the chance of him
seeing any of me. I lifted the front of my sweat pants and began to pee. A
second later I felt the warmth and realized something was wrong. When Jim
and I had gone camping I'd gotten used to simply opening my pants and
relieving myself, but I hadn't realized how the changes in my body would
have affected something like this. My penus, which had gradually been
shrinking since I'd began the program, now no longer hung outward enough
for me to urinate without carefully aiming it. I couldn't believe I had wet
my sweats like this, and I quickly tried to think of how I could try to
hide it from Jim. But it was too late. "Aw, what did you piss yourself?!"
he laughed. "Maybe you'd better squat down from now on!" Mortified, I ran
trembling and crying all the way back to the room to change. I didn't tell
anyone, but I did start sitting down (or squatting) to pee.

-----

Time continued to pass, and soon Jim and I had already been at the school
for six months. Jim and Chris now both had the bodies of almost fully
mature-looking young men. They had both grown more than two inches (Jim was
now 6'2") and were still growing, and their builds were quickly catching up
to the older Bluebands who had been at the school for years. (Jim now
weighed 194 pounds). They definitely seemed to have gotten more aggressive,
more decisive, and most were now playing very rough games of football or
rugby, rather than soccer, on weekends. I noticed Jim's chest was now
nicely defined, calling attention to his shoulders, which looked even
broader and very powerful. He had a very adult-looking and perfectly
symetrical formation of neat, straight hair on his chest, and his facial
hair had almost completely grown in. He was now shaving daily. Pat said
Chris was changing similarly, though perhaps because of his blond
complexion, Chris's chest wasn't really getting hairy.

My own body, meanwhile, had continued to soften. I felt more cautious, a
lot less sure of myself. I was so afraid of getting hurt that I rarely
played any sports anymore (although they all seemed boring these days). I
had gained 3 more pounds -- almost all of it on my hips, thighs, and
butt. (I had been focusing on excercises to tone my backside, but it looked
like they were making things even worse, so I started to put myself on a
diet). My face was starting to get rounder, making me look like either an
extremely feminine boy or a tomboyish girl. (Lately, I was looking less and
less like the former and a lot more like the latter). Like many of the
other Pinkbands, my hair was quite a bit longer, and I was now forced to
wear it pulled back in a pony tail. I couldn't even pretend my chest was