St Christine's Academy (a Story Sequel To Girdles)When I was 11 years old I found a box of old girdles in the ba
The shrink tried everything in his book, even forcing me to wear a Playtex Golden long leg pantie girdle every day one summer. But to get my to go along with the treatment I was promised that, after the summer, I could wear girdles and any female clothes whenever I wanted. So I endured a summer of torture and won the right to cross-dress at home and not to embarrass my parents. Another article goes into more detail about my teen years.
After this I found that my parents had other plans. I was to be sent to a boarding school, where I could cross-dress if I wanted and not be an embarrassment to the family. Saint Christine’s Academy.
The school was run by a special order of nuns that would help boys like me. I would get a top rate education and special training to treat my problem. Since I was not Catholic, I would not be indoctrinated into the church. I thought it would be great, I could dress up when I wanted and would be among people that were similar to me.
When I arrived at the school, I noticed that everyone was dressed in school girl uniforms. The nuns were in the traditional nuns habits. My mother packed my suitcase with the required school items. I was a bit shocked to find only girls clothes. As soon as I arrived I was made to put on the school uniform: White blouse, blazer, pleated plaid skirt (in the school colors) , panties, white knee socks and Mary Jane shoes.
I went to orientation. The school rules, the classes, the schedule of activities, introduction of teachers, and the usual welcome speeches were on the agenda. When I returned to my room my boy clothes were gone. The rules were that no male items would be allowed, ever. The term would not start for weeks, but every new student had to report to the infirmary for a special checkup.
I was sedated and when I woke up there were bandages between my legs and a catheter coming from my groin. Had I just had a sex change? The nurse said that all boys had to have this chastity operation. My male parts were still there, but sealed inside my skin. When they changed the bandage I saw that I looked like a girl. A long stitched up slit where my penis and balls were. A space with the catheter sticking out, so I could pee. They said that if anything started to stick out, it would be cut off. I was now in a chastity belt made from my own flesh. After the wound healed and the stitches were removed, I had to wear a tight pantie girdle for weeks. Anything male was inside the fold of the slit, a pee hole was left so I had to sit to pee like a girl. Unless you looked close I really looked like a girl down there.
Just the thing for a great figure. Another part of the treatment was daily pills. A pink and a blue one. I learned that the pink one was estrogen and other female hormones. The blue one was an anti-testosterone. These would shape me into the girl I wanted to be. If I did not take the pills, I would face a shot weekly. The medical team would check my blood monthly to make sure that the right hormones were there.
I was to be transformed into a girl. I was not sure I really wanted this, but I did tell my step mother I wanted this.
When classes started it was like any Catholic girls school, just like in the movies. Except that in the evenings we had to cleanup and dress fancy for dinner. As a first year student I was to dress up like a little girl. Petticoats, frilly dresses and panties. The older students watched over us like mothers. They helped choose the dresses and underwear. They also had us restrained at night, so we would not try to escape. I thought about home and felt homesick, but I knew that my parents would send me back. Since I had a feminine name already, Kim, I did not have to learn a new one. Other boys got feminized versions of their name.
Then I learned that there were several types of boys at this school. The willing, like me, that wanted to be here and loved dressing up. The unwilling, that were forced to come here by parents that wanted a girl, instead of a boy. And the unruly, the boys that were here because they could not be disciplined by the usual means. Making them dress as girls would stop the bad behavior and make them gentlemen, or ladies if they chose. The students that refused to wear the proper dress or had a bad attitude were severely punished.
As the school year progressed my body started to change and so did my feelings and thoughts. I felt like I was a girl, but I did not want to think about anything sexual. My breasts started to grow and so did my hips. My voice sounded more female and I thought I had a period. The blood came out of my pee hole, but did not hurt. It must have been the tiny female parts inside of my growing body. Monthly I had to wear a pantie liner or a pad. The pee hole was too small for a tampon.
The school classes were the usual graded classes that any school would have. Extra classes were added for fashion, makeup, hair styling, sewing, cooking and housekeeping. Stuff any girls school would have.
The nuns, or sisters wore their nuns habits for all ceremonial and official occasions. But at dinnertime they dressed in formal wear. They dressed to the nines, ball gowns, designer dresses like movie stars, fabulous jewelry, hats, and very high heels. Dinner was like a party. We students appreciated that they also went to the trouble to dress up for dinner.
I also noticed that there were maids that served and worked in the kitchen and doing the housework. I found out that these were second year students. They learned as part of their schooling. They wore maids uniforms when doing their duties.
Since this was a Catholic school, we all had to attend Mass and prayers daily, as part of our classes. Discipline started like any private school, rulers across knuckles, spanking with a paddle, being kept after class, and so on. But the hard cases got a unique punishment: The corset - the offender was made to wear a long tight corset for a day, night, or as long as the teacher wanted. If they still refused to obey, a burlap liner was added to make the time in the corset more of a torture. The corset was a one piece step in and once tightened, was locked on, so no escape. The students trying to escape the academy, anyone caught in areas they weren't supposed to be, or any violence, theft, deception, or rebellion ended up in "the corset" under your uniform.
The holidays were a welcome change, but we were not to wear male clothes, and our parents were supposed to agree with this. With my new shape, mens' clothes made me look like a girl wearing boy’s clothes, so I never went back to my old clothes. We were rich and had few friends, so neighbors thought I really was a girl. The boy was off to boarding school and I was a visiting "cousin".
In the summers I was off to a camp run by the school. I learned girl sports, swimming, camp craft, canoeing, archery, we camped out, went on canoe trips, slept in tents, and did various arts and crafts. Anyone visiting would see a typical girls camp. It was fun. As a girl I felt free and forgot all those boy longings and ideas.
The second year was a change. Instead of little girl clothes I wore maids’ uniforms. I still had my school uniforms, but when not in class, I was a maid. But as an upper class girl, the uniform was now heels, hose, girdles and bras under the blouse and skirt. The maid uniform was just like in the movies. A black dress with white apron, a cap, and the same heels, etc. as under the uniform. I rotated to the kitchen and learned to cook, to the dining room and learned proper serving procedures, to the housemaid duties helping clean, dust, and straighten up every part of the school, and then to the upper class quarters. I made beds, straightened up, laundered and mended clothes. I also worked to help upper class girls into their clothes and corsets. It was hard work, but not too bad, and I got to meet many of the students in the upper classes. Us maids ate together after we served, in the kitchen.
With all the maid and school work the year passed very fast. I made lots of girl friends and fit in to the school routine very well.
The third year started with corset training. My figure in the properly fitted corset looked great, but it took weeks before it was close to comfortable. My new corsets were worn all day and night with only time off to bathe and when we had PE. At least I did not have to wear a girdle every day as well. Along with the corsets came an under class maid to pull me in and help me dress in the prom dresses for dinner. Part of the training was fashion design and sewing my own dresses. But we were allowed to go shopping for whatever we needed. This included material, accessories, underwear, shoes, hose, hats, purses, makeup, etc. No one would ever guess I was a boy under it all. I was a girl, and I would eventually have the operation to make my a real female.
The forth and fifth year were like any all girl’s high school, no boys allowed. We learned dance, modeling, and ballet. I continued the young lady training, it was now like a finishing school. Also we were mothers to the first year students.
In the summer after the fifth term we were given the choice. We could have the operation to become totally female, stay in the flesh chastity belt, or release your male parts and go back to being male. But if you reverted to male you had to leave the school. I chose to remain in my chastity belt. I found that in spite of the hormones, training, clothes, and being a "girl", I did not have a desire for men. I liked being treated like a lady, but had no desire for sex with a man. I liked girls. I hated being thought of as a homo or a lesbian.
The last school year was full of dances and parties all away from the school. I dated, but did not long for anyone. I graduated and then had the operation to revert me to a boy. Without hormones, I developed a beard, tenor voice, and gained weight. I could pass as a man or woman, with proper corsetry. I had good breasts, but with extra weight I looked like a pudgy boy. After several tries I found a woman who could accept me as I am and love me as much as I love her.
I later learned that all the nuns that ran the school were once boys like me. The story was that the original Christine was miraculously changed from man to woman by God, and suffered for this. She started this order, but no one in the church ever knew all the truth that all these nuns started as boys.