They were so big! He got hard just looking at them, then felt ashamed that he was excited about looking at *himself*. And he was cold. He needed to put some clothes on.

He looked in the closet, and it only contained one thing: a white dress. The bra and panties that Dr. Hoyt had promised were laid out on the table. He had a choice to make now: put it on as she told him, or call her bluff and see what they really did for disobeying the rules.

She had to be lying. They wouldn't do something like that for punishment, would they? It had to be illegal or something. But as he crossed his arms, and felt the large firm mounds under them, it sunk in that these people meant what they said. They had done *this* to him, so they certainly wouldn't hesitate to shoot him up with hormones.

The scariest part was it sounded like she *loved* the thought of doing that to him. What kind of sick person would want to do that? He took the only choice that he had: he walked to the table, put on the panties, then struggled for five minutes to get the bra on. It was hard enough taking one off a girl. But they were even harder to put on.

He felt ridiculous after he put on the dress. He almost died looking in the mirror. He was going to walk out of the room now, and let people see him like this? No way!

He peeked out the door to see if the coast was clear. He saw several women doctors talking in a group down the hall to the left. There was one chick walking the other way. Then he realized: it was no chick. It was a guy, with long hair, makeup, and a dress.

Then he saw another. And another! Bill realized that all of the inmates here were like him. They were all violent boys, who were being turned into girls. His face was beet red.

"Come on Jessica, lunch is getting cold!" said Dr. Hoyt. "Its all right dear. You can see that you're not the only one here. Don't be embarrassed. None of the other girls will make fun of you. They all went through the same thing when they arrived."

Bill gingerly started to walk down the hall. Dr. Hoyt led him to the cafeteria, where there were 30 or 40 other youths. They were all in various stages of feminization. Some looked like real girls, with pretty faces, curved hips, and long hair. Some looked like guys in dresses, with big tits. Just like him.

He also realized that all the doctors and workers here were women too.

"Come on Jessica, eat up. You have ballet class in 30 minutes" said Dr. Hoyt. "You don't want to be late do you? Oh and remember, eat like a girl. Mind your manners, and I won't have to punish you."

Bill took a small bite of the salad, and tried to look polite as he chewed it quietly.

* * *

Bill's schedule every day was quite full. First thing, he would rise at 6:30 in the morning, and start his 'beauty ritual' that he had been taught. He showered, shaved (including his legs and underarms when need be), put on his schoolgirl uniform, makeup, jewelry, cute shoes, and all the other required accessories. He didn't think to wonder why he never had to shave his chest hair. While he had been under the knife, they had used a special laser to permanently remove the hairs on his chest. The hair on his head was still short, but they told him that in time it would grow out so that he could have a prettier hairstyle.

After breakfast, he had regular school from 8:00 until noon, when they broke for lunch. He had to learn math, English, history, and other classes. It was just like being in high school, except that it was more intense, faster paced, and he was in the class as a girl.

Bill had to remember to hold his schoolbooks up to his chest, like a real girl would, so that he would avoid punishment. He had talked with several of the other students, and confirmed that in fact they *did* dole out serious punishments. The boy named Marie told him that after being injected with estrogen for the third time, he could not longer 'get it up'. The thought of losing what he had between his legs really scared Bill, and he tried his best not to break any rules.

After lunch, it was time for "Fem Ed", where he learned how to be a girl. There were classes on how to put together a cute outfit for one's self, fashion rules, styles of clothes, what was appropriate for a given occasion, and even how to shop for bargains.

Then there was a class where they worked on the proper way to walk, talk, sit, stand, move...how to act like a girl. It was difficult, but the ballet class that followed helped greatly with improving posture, grace, and poise (although it was the height of humiliation to wear a pink tutu).

The next class taught women's history, as well as topics such as how to care for and raise your baby. They even had dolls with motorized mouths that were used to learn how to breast feed.

Finally, there was a class on makeup, painting your nails, plucking your eyebrows, doing your hair, and all that. It was in this class that they pierced his ears the first day, and put in a pair of dangling gold ear rings with diamond chips.

After classes, it was time for dinner, then finally some recreation (ballet didn't count, in his book). They showed a movie every night, but it was always what he would call a 'chick flick'. Stories about girls. Or about romance. Or about relationships between women and their friends, or their families. There were no car chases, no explosions, no special effects. At first, he was completely bored. But after a few weeks, he started to understand some of the subtleties to it, and his interest started to grow.

After a snack, there was an hour of free time, before they went back to their rooms to study. This went on six days a week, with only Sunday providing a day of rest. It was exhausting, but for the first time in his life, Bill was starting to really apply himself to studying, and was beginning to really learn.

Unlike Bill's public high school, there were no fights here. Fighting would cause the stiffest of punishments. It was whispered among the students that if you fought, they would cut *it* off of you. None of them wanted to end up like that! So Bill, along with the other 'girls' learned to control their inner rage, and storm off in a huff instead of lashing out physically at someone.

* * *

There was no summer vacation for the students at the Felony Eradication Mental Asylum & Labor Education. It never let up. After ten months, it was becoming routine. Jessica was even used to being called by his new name now. He answered to Jessica Anne Moore every day at every class when they took attendance. And he had written his new name over and over, on every school assignment, using his new feminine handwriting they had taught him in Fem Ed.

He had only been tardy twice, in all the time he was there. The first time, they gave him a warning. The second time, they made him swallow a birth control pill. He never was tardy again after that.

After so much practice, he was getting good at walking and talking like a girl. The way he sat, stood or ran was different now. And it was almost to the point where he wouldn't have to think about it; he just did it that way.

As he filed his nails one evening, preparing to put on a new coat of nail polish, he reflected on how it didn't even bother him anymore to be wearing a skirt all day. At first, it was terrible, and he was aware of being in it all the time. But now he was *used* to it. He had grown accustom to how comfortable it was, and he didn't know if would like going back to wearing pants.

His hair was getting longer now too, almost down to his shoulders. Now there was enough to work with, and make something pretty out of it. He felt somewhat jealous of Marie, because his hair was a good six inches longer. But he knew it was just a matter of time before his hair got like that too. He wanted to dye it red, if they would let him. That color would help bring out his eyes he decided.

As the polish was drying on his nails, there was a knock at the door.

"Jessica, Dr. Hoyt wants to see you. Now."

"I'll be right there" he replied, grabbing his purse as he left the room. After all these months, it was another automatic reaction now. He walked down the corridor to her office, knocked, and entered.

"Hello Jessica. You look lovely today" said Dr. Hoyt.

"Thank you. You look very nice yourself Dr. Hoyt."

"You may call me Wendy, now that you're a girl too."

"Thank you Wendy" said Jessica. "Why did you want to see me?"

"To assess what progress you've made. From all reports, you have been a very well behaved girl."

"I try my best."

Wendy smiled at her.

"Now Jessica, I am going to give you a test, so we can measure where you are. The first part is a questionnaire. Please answer truthfully."

She handed over a booklet of questions, along with a form with little circles to fill in, and a #2 pencil. Jessica opened the book, and read the questions.

Most were easy. There were questions from the women's history class, like the fact that 'Bloomers' were named after the woman who helped change the rule that forced women to only wear dresses and skirts. Or easy questions about makeup and fashion.

There were math problems too, and questions about word definitions, or parsing sentences. But sprinkled in were some strange ones, like:

-True or False: I have male thoughts in my head.

-I wish I was a mommy:

A - all the time

B - sometimes

C - rarely

D - never

-Which is more important when going out?

A - to be on time

B - to have your makeup done just right

C - to have just the right outfit on

Jessica answered the questions, then passed the test back to Wendy. She walked over the a computer scanner in the corner, fed the sheet in, and studied the results.

"Very good Jessica! Your reading and arithmetic scores have gone up two grade levels since you entered this facility. And your femininity index is off the charts. I think you might be ready to advance to the next level already."

"The next level?"

"Yes. There is another building in this facility that you have not been allowed to enter yet. That is where we house the advanced students. I think you may be ready to graduate from this part of the school."

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