DANNY GIRL
by Hartford
Chapter I
He was by a window in the cafeteria alone with his notebooks when the fat boy came up.
"Hello, got a minute?," the fat boy said, helping himself to a chair.
He recognized the fat boy but couldn't remember his name or how he knew him. Then he did. The fat boy had been at the play, back stage, hanging around, sucking up to the director. He was a fag.
"David would like you to come to his party," the fat boy said. His voice was faintly repulsive and tinged with resentment.
"David?"
"Professor Fry," the fat boy said.
Dan felt his throat tighten. Professor Ray taught theater, he had directed the play, had cast Dan as a walk-on, no lines, but by the time rehearsals ended Dan was appearing in almost every scene and on opening night it was Dan who first crossed the stage, in rose colored tights, waistcoat and powdered wig looking almost like a beautiful girl.
"Why?"
"David thinks you're cute."
The fat boy grinned. "You'll have a good time," he said.
"I....I don't think so," Dan said.
"No?"
"No."
The fat boy got up as if to go then sat back down.
"You oughta think it over. It's a costume party. David wants you to come as a girl. He'll give you the clothes to wear, give you everything you need."
The fat boy softened his tone. "You already got the basics. You know that, right, about the basics, I mean? You've got real good basics. Fuck, you've got basics I'd die for. I'm telling you that, but David thinks so, too. Think it over. It's not the usual party. It's something special that David does. He wanted me to tell you. Okay? Think it over. You'll do yourself a favor."
The fat boy rose and waddled off.
Bart Brackus liked to go nude in the semi privacy of the dorm room. It cleared his mind not to be covered in clothes, he would say. He was in his desk chair with a book in his customary state of undress when Dan came in.
"Hey," Bart said.
"Hey," Dan replied.
"You got a package. Some fat kid dropped it off a little while ago," Bart said.
A cardboard box, taped shut, sat at the end of Dan's bed. Dan looked at it and froze. After a moment he went to it, and put it on the floor.
"What is it?"
"Nothing," Dan said.
"How do you know? Open it."
"It's personal, Bart. I'll open it later, okay."
"Oh, personal." Well, isn't that nice. A personal something for Dan. Here's something personal, sweetheart."
Bart lifted his wang. Even limp, the cock overfilled his hand by three or four inches. Dan blanched and looked away.
"Take it easy, all right?"
Bart got up and crossed the room. He locked the door. He turned to confront his roommate, who tried to keep his gaze from falling on the flaccid, heavily hanging dong.
"I know what's in the fucking box," Bart said.
Dan swallowed.
"I thought you were just a pretty boy. Didn't figure you for a fag. Open up the box. Let's have a little fashion show. Don't worry, I'll be good...." As Bart went on his manner eased; he became respectful, talking at times in the way he might talk to a girl he hoped to make. "I got my own kinky side, actually," he confessed.
"You opened it and taped it back up," Dan said, his anger trying without success to get up to speed.
"Yeah, I did, sorry."
"I'm not a fag, Bart." Dan sat with the box. He ripped open the flaps. He looked in.
"Geez," he murmured, holding up a pink mini skirt with the name, "Danielle", embroidered in light blue letters near the hem. The box held other items, including another mini, two camis, a red Victoria Secret negligee, nylons, a blonde wig, panties in pink and yellow, high heels that were his size, a hair brush, and jars and tubes of cosmetics.
"Don't see any bras, Danny girl," Bart snickered.
"Look, this guy who brought this stuff invited me to a party, a fag party, but I told him I wasn't interested. He just brought this crap here anyway. I didn't ask for it."
"Uh huh." Bart had settled on his bed across the small space from Dan's bed. He sat with his legs splayed, showing his meaty dong which was noticeably less flaccid than it had been a few moments before.
"Those there are cute clothes. I wouldn't call them crap. If I was you, I would put those clothes on. The wig, too, and see how I looked. That wouldn't mean you was a fag, necessarily. Might only mean you could look like a girl if you wanted."
"You don't really think that."
"The fuck I don't."
"Really?"
"Yeah. man. Come on, just for the hell of it."
"I don't know."
"Bull shit," Bart grinned.
"Okay. Don't laugh at me, Bart."
"I won't laugh."
In the bathroom, Dan locked the doors to the adjacent dorm room and his room. He looked into the box he'd placed on the toilet seat. It was strange and exciting looking in the box. He took out the clothes, one at a time, and held them up, and he took out the cosmetics and read what they were and how to use them, and then he began his transformation. It took an hour. When he was done he stood on the bath tub to inspect his shaved legs in the mirror. Around the splatterings of debris risen up from the sink he could tell he had nice legs, nicer now than before. He flexed his toes sticking out over the edge of the tub and slid off. His outfit lay there, the little skirt, embroidered with his new name, resting on the box, and on the white and black tile floor, his pink panties and a thin cotton cami, white with soft red stripes. The pumps he had left in the box.
He steeled himself before leaning forward to study his face in the mirror. As he looked, a great fear dug into him but it was joined by great excitement. He was beautiful. He was just shy of perfection, owing to a little smudging of his lipstick after the care he'd taken to get it right. He would love to stay there looking at himself, he thought, and keep the world away. So what will Bart think? "I'll do better next time," he kidded himself about the lipstick, bemused by the possibility of a next time. His face reassured him. He was so pretty, his face so cutely set off by the blonde curls of his wig, that his minor lipstick mistakes hardly mattered. Overlooking the ungirlish aspect of his cami, Dan exited the bathroom the very picture of a piece of ass.
Bart whistled. He stared, not speaking, then he whistled again.
Dan laughed. He pivoted like a model and shook his bottom.
"Hey, Danny Girl, you are amazing. You are fucking unbelievable."
"It's Danielle, please," came a sweet alto voice.
"Oh, Danny Girl, the pricks, the pricks are calling." Bart howled. His cock was half hard and gradually lifting from its downward pitch, but he didn't seem to notice.
Dan flipped up his skirt. He danced, proudly showing his smooth thighs, his girlish bottom adorned in the pink panties.
Bart shook his head, laughing. He leered at Dan with hilarity and amazement and in the midst of his delight he became aware of his rising hardon.
"Look what you're doing to me! Fuck, I'm getting hard for a queer!"
The posing boygirl stopped her dance. She put her hands on her hips, causing the front of her little skirt to rise just enough for Bart to notice, and then she turned and stomped off, into the bathroom, too angry and noisy to hear a knock on the outer door. The boygirl locked herself in. She sat on the toilet and started to cry.
The knocking drew Bart from his bewilderment. He put on a robe and had started toward the door when a voice on the other side identified the callers.
"Dan are you there? Dan? Bart? It's Mommy, darling. Janice is with me. We have a surprise for you!"
Bart paused to check his breath. Janice! Janice was hot, one of the hottest girls on campus. How a nothing guy like Dan rated with Janice was beyond him. Dan's mother wasn't bad either. Early forties, stacked, the answer to where Dan's pretty face came from, and she had a sexy personality. By the time he reached the door Bart had worked up a palpable pleasure at the pending visit, so wonderfully ill-timed that he half expected to burst out laughing. He would have to keep them quiet. Oh man, this was going to be great!
"Hello, Bart. In the buff again are we?", Mrs. Davis said, eying him in the velour robe. She held a basket containing a few gift wrapped items. Janice, wearing jeans and a jersey all but molded to her Miss America figure, carried a squarish box, also wrapped.
"Shhhhh, you have to see this," Bart said, holding a finger to his lips. He ushered them in.
"What is it?," whispered Mrs. Davis. "Where's Dan? His birthday is next week and we brought him a present...and those aren't it, honey" she added with a smile when Bart held his gaze on Janice's tits.
"Yes, Danny can have these any old time," Janice said, softly pouting her lips.
"Whoa," Bart said. He pointed them to Dan's bed. The women sat together, placing the basket and box on the floor, and looked at Bart to explain the mystery. Mrs. Davis frowned her impatience.
"Is he in the bathroom?," Janice whispered.
"Yeah, we had an argument and he got mad and went and locked himself in the bathroom. I'll get him to come out. Don't say anything."
Bart raised his voice. "Hey, Dan. I'm sorry, man. Come on out. Let's try it again. I'm sorry, really."
"No thank you!", came a girlish voice.
"Is that Dan?," said Mrs. Davis.
Bart snickered that it was. "Ah, come on, Dan. Give me one more chance. Please."
No reply. Then the door opened and Dan emerged in his girl clothes and makeup. He had fixed his lipstick.
"My God!," cried Mrs. Davis, bolting to her feet.
Janice fell back on the bed, laughing.
"He beat us to it, Lana!"
Dan had beat them to it without meaning to, and when everyone calmed down and they sat on the facing beds, Dan, still in his outfit, explained about the fat boy and the clothes, and when he finished, Mrs. Davis told the story of how she had caught Dan when he was eleven years old putting on his sister's bikini in front of the girl's bedroom mirror and how she and Janice, with whom she had shared the memory, thought it would be fun to relive it and tease Dan with a few naughty presents for his birthday. It Dan's own fault, she pointed out, since he had renewed the naughty memory himself by his suggestive performance in the play.
Dan shuddered. How many times lying in bed at night had the feeling come back to him of when he had felt the eyes, so many of them, on his beautified self?
"But I think it's destiny," Mrs. Davis said. "It must be. I mean your teacher doing the very same thing as us. It's your destiny, honey, to be a girl some of the time. I don't know how else you can explain it."
Dan swallowed his embarrassment and opened the gifts. Janice's compliments relaxed him a little. As he picked through the boxes, she told him how pretty he was, and sexy. He excited her, she said, with this other side of himself he was revealing. Dan wondered what the lasting impact would be on his relationship with her. Privately, he was as baffled as Bart why Janice continued being his girlfriend
"Oh, Danny, put on some of these," Mrs. Davis urged.
"I haven't opened Janice's present yet," Dan said.
"That's for last, honey. Try on the panties and the jersey and the nylons. You can skip the mini. Please, pretty please. For Mommy."
"Okay," Dan giggled. He picked up the clothes and scampered to the bathroom.
When the bathroom door closed, Janice turned on the bed and grinned at Mrs. Davis.
"You bitch," she said.
"Don't call me that," Mrs. Davis hissed. She put her hands on Janice's tits and pushed the coed down on the bed, falling on top of her in the covers and then she kissed Janice on the mouth and mauled her tits. She mauled them with her hands and then she mauled them with her own big breasts. Bart watched in wonder, and while Mrs. Davis was showing whose tits were boss, and Janice was letting her do it, it occurred to him why Janice pretended to be Dan's girlfriend.
Bart wondered how far the lesbos would go. His hopes rose when Mrs. Davis pushed her hand between Janice's legs, but Janice broke the embrace. She wiggled free and sat up, catching her breath.
Mrs. Davis let her go. "I'll finish you later, you whore," she said, her own heat showing in her eyes and flushed face.
The women cast glances at Bart while they straightened their clothes. They noted that Bart's hardon now formidably tented the left side of his bathrobe, which had opened slightly behind the belt.
"I hope you didn't watch that, Bart," Janice said, softly.
"Hey, what did you expect?"
"A gentleman would have looked away," Janice said, peering at the opening in the robe. "Are you naked under that bathrobe, Bart?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact."
"Oooh, neat. I was wondering about something, Mr. Bart."
"Yeah?"
"Mmm, I was wondering if you would fuck me."
"Say what?"
"Gosh, didn't you hear me?," Janice pouted. She fixed her gaze on Bart's lap and sighed.
"No, I heard you. I, ah...Jesus, I would love to fuck you, Janice. Are you putting me on?"
"I couldn't put on a guy who has a cock like yours, Bart."
"Yeah?"
"I could never do that. Your cock is a king, Bart. Can I see it...please?"
"You want to see it?"
"Yes."
Beads of perspiration broke out along the top of Bart's forehead. He glanced at Mrs. Davis who smiled at him, encouragingly he thought. His mind raced. Did Janice want him to fuck her now? Maybe she was only fooling with him. What would the fallout be from fucking his roommate's girlfriend, in Dan's presence no less, not that that would deter him? What the hell was going on with Dan anyway? He checked himself in the bathrobe, which appeared to conceal a small tower.
"Actually, I think my daughter should do the honors," Mrs. Davis said.
"Oh, good idea!", Janice chirped.
"Hey, what honors?"
"Why the honor of opening your bathrobe," Mrs. Davis said, brightly.
"I can do that right now!"
"No, Danielle will do it. Do you want to fuck Janice?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Then cooperate. It will be such a treat for Danielle to show us your cock and see it up close herself."
"Jesus."
In the bathroom, Dan tried to calm himself before making his entrance.He took a deep breath, then another. He wore only the pink panties. He'd tried on the nylons, the mini and the fuck-me jersey but the mirror convinced him he looked his cutest in just the panties, flat chest notwithstanding, which said a lot about his overall girlishness, he happily realized. A bit of rouge and eye shadow along with the bright red lipstick lent a slutty edge to his pretty face that he hoped would excite his audience as much as it excited him. He only wished his dick wasn't sticking out, but then a boygirl couldn't expect to have everything her way. Thank goodness the dick was little. He wished it would go away entirely. Let Janice taunt him now about his "manhood". He couldn't care less. Giving the blonde curls a last brush, Danielle stepped into the limelight.
"Da da!," she sang, facing the stares.
Like a model,she posed for them, warming to the plaudits from her mother and Janice, but hearing no praises from Bart whose blank expression, in contrast to his lap, belied the young man's heated emotions. For the women at least, Dan had succeeded brilliantly in his transformation, and he loved it every time they would employ a feminine pronoun mentioning him. He was Danielle now and in the back of his mind he wondered if he could always be Danielle. Oh yeah, he was a she for sure. It was as though a light had gone on illuminating a side of him he barely knew existed but was his truer self, hidden all this time in the closet of his mind. This was heaven! Danielle strode to and fro by the window in the wider space beyond the beds. She swayed her shoulders as she walked and after a while she swayed her hips.
"Jesus," Bart said.
(Stay tune for Chapter 2)