A perfectly normal day at school.

My early period Math and English classes went by smoothly, and I was feeling more comfortable than usual since I was finally wearing an outfit that my mother didn’t have any say in. It was a combination of freeing and embarrassing to feel a breeze across my slender thighs, and before I knew it, I had to take my worst subject… Gym.

I had to change out of my tighter, skimpier outfit into the school standard gym clothes. If I was being honest… part of the reason I was so weak was because mom always told me that there was no future in joining a boys’ sorts team. I ran some laps thinking about how badly I wanted to play softball before being shut down— but mother was right that the male sports leagues were utterly dwarfed by their female counterparts. Even so, she never let me play… that always felt cruel.

At the end of class, I’d almost collapsed in a pile of my own sweat, and went back to the locker room. Unlike last time, I was surrounded by the other guys in my grade (who were all talking about guy stuff, like gossip and makeup) and I swallowed hard when I realized I’d have to change out of my panties where they could see.

I was kind of an early bloomer down there, and the other boys bullied me over the size of my package. It’s kind of hard to forget a cheerleader shoving me around until I cried just because I was having a little trouble fitting into my old panties. It’s not like I was ever mean to him! In my memories, that was just insult over injury— I was frankly embarrassed to need a D-cup so early. I mean, we all know what horny teenage girls said about a boy with a sizable package, and it wasn’t nice.

Thankfully, my classmates didn’t give me any grief as I slipped back into my clothes— even my old bullies minding their own business. Apart from remembering how my junk painted a target on my back in the locker room, I was actually having a pretty great day at school.

Girls who never looked my way before were craning their necks to get a peek at me… even if it was just because of my skimpier clothing. Or maybe the attention was all in my head, I mean, I’m pretty sure that riding a high of wearing fashionable clothes for the first time in public was messing with my brain chemistry anyway. With my thighs on display, and the way my shirt hugged my torso, the only dampener on my mood would be if mom found out.

… if she saw me dressed like this, she’d yell at me until I went deaf. And she’d beat me too, for sure! Wait— would mom even let me go to school ever again!?

Crap! I had to call Garland before my mom tried to find me! I dug into my schoolbag, and quickly scrounged up the detective’s numbers. My fingers danced across my phone’s number pad, and I felt my heart race while the line rang.

“C’mon Jane… pick up…”