Goodbye, Dolly!

GOODBYE, DOLLY! (Copyright 2010 by Lucky Lex.)

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. Exclusive permission to post electronically is given to www.nifty.org and its affiliated mirror sites only.

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It contains consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever reason.

I'd love to hear from you, please let me know what you think! [Feedback is the only way writers can tell how they are doing.] Please direct any comments, criticism, feedback or suggestions to: LuckyLex@luckymail.com

I am sure that this story will make me very unpopular with some readers, but this is fiction and I think it makes a pretty good story. It might also help some youngsters who are being persecuted for the way that they look and/or behave to realise that looking and dressing `straight' is NOT a betrayal of their gayness.

Please note that there is NO SEX in this story, so if that is all you're looking for you should look elsewhere.

At an all boys school we were usually known to the teaching staff (and often to one another) by our surnames, and that is how I always thought of Dolliman. His first name was, in fact, Martin but was cruelly known to everybody as `Dolly' He was the only openly gay boy in my year at school. I knew that there were other gay boys, myself included, but we didn't exactly advertise the fact. Dolly, however, was about as girlie as you could get; limp-wristed,with a mincing walk and affected lisping; you name it, and he did it. Long dyed blond hair, painted nails, dangling earrings (but not in school), you name it, he had it. I was sure that he only did it for attention, but the trouble was he got all the wrong kind of attention. He was spurned by his peers, made fun of by the younger boys and spat upon (and worse) by the older ones. He also attracted the attention of the wrong sort of gay guys who treated him like a slut because he dressed like one. If there was one boy in the school that every boy and every teacher recognised, it was Dolly.

Somebody had to befriend him, but why did it have to be me? I hadn't intended us to get close; I just wanted to join the Gay/Straight Alliance and he joined too. He was everything I despised in a gay guy, quite honestly. I was gay because I fancied boys. If I fancied boys, why would I go for anything like `the closest thing to a woman with a cock', which is how Dolliman was once described by one of his peers. Also we were placed in alphabetical order when we first started at the school, and as my name is Bradley (call me Brad) Divine (and I am), I was seated next to him.

I lived quite a long way from school, which was a private, fee-paying, high-achieving one. By virtue of his extremely high intelligence, Dolliman had got a full scholarship, and that was the only way his mother could have afforded to send him there. He lived a couple of streets away from me and it just seemed natural that we began meeting up on the way to school and travelling in on the bus together. Similarly we would leave school together to bus home. Rumours about us began to circulate, and I knew that Dolliman would have loved the rumours to be true because more than once he had come on to me, and I had to tell him gently that there was no way that there could have been anything but friendship between us. I had to tell him gently because his confidence was so low and his ego so shattered, that had I not let him down gently he would have burst into tears; something that he frequently did in school if anybody started on him.

One afternoon coming up to the school holidays Dolliman came to me in tears for the umpteenth time, his self-esteem at an all time low. I had heard that there had been an altercation earlier in the day and that he had been involved.

"I've had enough. I just can't do this any more." He sobbed.

"Can't do what, Dolliman?" I asked. (I never called him `Dolly' to his face although behind his back I sometimes did).

"I can't put up with this constant abuse from everybody. Why do they pick on me? I'm not the only gay boy around."

"No you're not Dolliman." I said, "But the way you dress and the way you act draw attention to yourself."

"I don't know what I'm going to do during the school holidays." He said. "Mum's going to visit my brother in Australia. I haven't seen Dad for years, and he wouldn't want a gay son anyway. If I go with any of the gay guys I know they'll just treat me like a slut, but that's not what I want. I want to be wooed, Brad, I want to be romanced, I want to be, well ... courted. If I've got nobody around who understands me I might as well end it all." He said.

I had no doubt that Dolliman meant every word he said. "Why don't you go with your mother?" I asked.

"Because my shit-faced brother doesn't want me anywhere near him or his precious kids." Dolliman said, and burst into tears again.

I knew that I couldn't leave him alone for the holidays, and I knew that what I was about to say would probably get me into trouble with my folks. "Look, Martin. If you'll agree to put yourself in my hands, you can come and stay with me for the holidays." I said.

Dolliman snivelled a little before he said. "I suppose that you don't mean what I hope you mean by putting myself in your hands?"

"Martin, don't even think about it." I said. "What I have in mind is going to be very difficult for you and probably very difficult for me, but I hope that at the end of it things will be very different for you."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Trust me, Martin. You won't like what I'm going to do, but if you want things to change, I think it's the only solution."

I took a gamble that my folks would be alright with this, but I was ninety per cent certain that all would be well. We are a pretty unconventional household in that my parents met at university at the GBLA, both of them being bisexual. They had a bit of a fling together and I was the result. They had never married but had remained together ever since, although both of them had gay dalliances along the way. It was mum that first sussed that I was gay when I was eleven and she sat me down straight away to talk about it and to let me know that it wouldn't be a problem in any way. She knew that I was friendly with Martin, but that there was nothing sexual in our friendship, so when I asked whether he could spend the holidays with us she agreed straightaway. Dad worked away from home quite a lot so it didn't affect him too much, but he was fine with it anyway.

Martin managed to see out the last couple of weeks of the term without any further serious incident, but I could tell by his demeanour and general reticence that he was a very unhappy boy. When we finally broke up it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and his tears on the last day of term were tears of relief.

Martin's mother was due to go away three days after school broke up and on the appointed day he arrived on our doorstep with two suitcases dressed in his usual girlie way. I took him up to to my room, which we would be sharing for the next few weeks and showed him where to store his clothes, although I warned him that he wouldn't be needing many of them. Martin raised his eyebrows at my comment, but he knew I wasn't being lewd, and just meant that he was going to get a major makeover. We went back downstairs and I introduced him to mum and dad. I think Martin expected his appearance to shock them, but they already knew how he dressed and looked, and as they were very familiar with the varying forms of gay attire, they showed no surprise.

Mum and dad were off out for the evening and when they'd gone Martin broached the subject of his transformation and what exactly was going to happen. I explained to him that by the time we went back to school in seven weeks time he would look nothing like `Dolly'. He made it plain that he wasn't going change from being gay, and I countered that he probably couldn't change his sexuality even if he wanted to. I said that I was pleased to be gay and proud to be gay, but that I was a boy and had no intention of trying to look like a girl. I also reiterated that the boys I fancied also looked like boys and that girlie gay guys held no attraction for me.

I told him that we would be changing the way he dressed, that he would be reverting to his natural hair colour, that I wanted him to put on some weight and to stop wearing make-up and painting his nails.

The first thing he picked up on was the weight business. "But I'm so fat," He said.

"Martin, you are seriously under weight. Look at yourself in the mirror. You are so skinny that it makes you look gaunt and unattractive." I told him.

"I do not!" He countered. "That's why boys don't find me attractive, so don't even try to make me put weight on."

"Martin, I have plans that I hope will change your mind about that."

"Now what I really need to see is what I have to work with." I said. "Now don't misunderstand me, but would you take your clothes off please Martin?" I asked.

He sat looking at me for a moment before he burst out laughing. "You are joking?" He said.

"I've never been more serious." I replied.

Martin looked stunned. "You're serious." He said,

"Never more so." I replied. "I want to see exactly what has to be done."

"Well, I don't know." Martin said. He paused for a moment before a smile lit his face. "I'll make a deal." He said. "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

"You sound like a five year-old." I said.

"Well, that's the deal, take it or leave it, but just in case your folks come home we'd better go upstairs." Martin said.

"God, you are childish." I said, "But OK, let's go upstairs."

I turned off the TV and followed Martin upstairs. It wasn't until now that I realised quite how girlie his walk was and how much he swung his hips. He walked more like a woman than my mum! We'd have to do something about that.

"After you." Martin said when I'd closed the bedroom door behind us. I'd never been particularly modest ever since the first time I'd undressed for the showers after gym when I saw that I was no different form any of the other guys, and nobody had much more or less than I had down below. What's more I took pretty good care of myself so I was pretty pleased with the way I looked.

Martin had always been exempted from gym and swimming lessons at his own request, primarily because of the way he was often treated by the other guys, but I think the other guys may have objected to being naked in front of him.

I began to take off my clothes and I was aware that Martin couldn't take his eyes off me. He was almost drooling by the time I got down to my underpants so I stopped to let him get his breath back. "Come on Martin," I said, "A bargain's a bargain."

"You look fantastic, Brad." Martin said. "Do I really have to strip?" He whined like a little kid being told to go to bed.

"Yes." I said bluntly. "Now get them off."

Martin blushed as he began to undress. He was wearing a long shirt as a jacket with a button-up golf shirt underneath. His Levis were worn low on the hips and he wore pink sneakers. He took off the shirt and then unbuttoned his T-shirt which he then pulled over his head. His upper body was a dreadful sight. Skin and bone and very little else. He bent down and took off his shoes and socks and I was slightly amused to see that his toenails were painted, even under shoes and socks.

"Why bother to paint your toenails?" I asked.

Martin shrugged. "A girl likes to look good." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"MARTIN!!" I said. "You are NOT a girl. If you want to be a girl I'm wasting my time with you and I may as well give up now."

"NO ... don't ... please." Martin said. "I get the piss taken out of me so much that I've started acting up to it. I don't want to be like this any more ... really."

"OK." I said. "Now get your jeans off."

Martin blushed again and lowered his jeans and then stepped out of them. He stood up and I could see the bulge in his boxer shorts. I wondered whether he was aroused at seeing me naked or just well-endowed.

"OK, together now." I said as I slipped my thumbs into my waistband. I pushed downwards and saw that Martin was doing the same. As we straightened up I looked at Martin in wonder.

"Wow, Martin." I said. "You must have been at the front of the queue when God was dishing out the cocks." He had a really great set of equipment.

Martin looked at me shyly. "You're not the first one to have admired it." He said

"I'll bet." I replied. "It's a shame that you shave yourself though, I always think a guy with pubes is so much more sexy."

"Really?!?" He said.

"Yea. Gives me a little more to play with." I said. "Now for the crunch, Martin." I said. You are far, far too thin. You have to lose the dye in your hair. You can start growing your pubes again and you can stop using make-up and nail polish." I said bluntly.

"No, that's too much." Martin said.

"And that's only the first week." I continued.

"WHAT!?!" Martin replied.

"Now, come and stand next to me in front of the mirror." I said. Martin stood next to me and we looked into the full length mirror. "Now, you tell me that you like my body." I said. Martin grinned and nodded. "But according to your theory, you are overweight, so I must be really obese, because I have much more flesh on my bones than you do."

"That's different." Martin said.

"It's no different at all." I said. "Now as we're up here and undressed we might as well get to bed for the night. We start your new regime from tomorrow."! I said.

We slipped into our separate beds and I drifted off to sleep pretty much straightaway, but I was awakened a couple of hours later by the sound of Martin sniffling in the other bed.

"What's up Martin?" I asked.

"Nothing." He replied.

"Yes there is, Martin." I said.

"Well, I just feel that I'm losing my identity." He said.

"Well in a way you are," I said groggily, "but it's your identity that is your problem." I sat up in bed. "Look, guys treat you like a whore because you look and behave like a whore. What I'm trying to do is change your appearance into something more `normal', for want of a better word, and then maybe, just maybe you'll attract the attention of the right kind of guys. You don't have a bad body and once you put a few pounds on it will be a great body, and if you dress nicely I don't think you'll have any more problems."

"Yea, but it won't be ME any more." He argued.

"It won't be Dolly," I said, "It'll be Martin Dolliman."

"That's what my mum says should happen." He said. "Have you two been conspiring?" He asked.

I laughed; "No, I promise you I haven't even spoken to her." I said. "Now, let's get some sleep or we'll be good for nothing in the morning."

I had everything planned pretty much in my head and during the first week of transformation I took Martin to my mother's hairdresser and asked her to get rid of as much of his artificial colouring as possible and then to cut his hair like mine except a little shorter to allow it to grow to the right length by the time we returned to school. As we came out of the hairdresser's Martin was cursing me for what I'd done, but I promised him that he would thank me in the long run.

When we got back home Martin went in search of his nail varnish, but I knew he wouldn't find it as I'd hidden it away the previous night together with his other make up. When he tackled me I told him that he didn't need them, but instead to grab his swimming gear. I had always been a keen swimmer myself and I knew that over the next six or seven weeks we could improve Martin's upper body if we swam regularly.

Martin complained all the way to the swimming baths, but when he eventually appeared from the changing rooms in his tight-fitting speedos, it almost took my breath away. Although I'd seen him naked, the sight of his considerable package crammed into that tight space was pretty erotic and judging by the looks he got from both guys and girls, I wasn't the only one who thought so.

"Do me a favour, Martin." I asked him.

"What is it?" he said, pouting.

"Could you try to walk more like a boy than a girl? Why try to look like a girl when it's obvious to everybody here that you're definitely a guy?" I looked down at his package as I said it and he had the grace to blush, but tried to hold his hands in front of his crotch , which drew even more attention to himself.

We had a good, long swim and I made sure that Martin kept at it, as I knew he would need every bit of exercise he could get if he was going to achieve the level of muscular development that I was hoping for.

We were both ravenous when we got home, but Martin was disappointed when he didn't get any of his usual junk food, but I prepared a good plateful of healthy food for him. Looking at Martin without his usual light make-up it was obvious that his complexion left a lot to be desired, so I was determined to cut down his fat and oil intake, but still make sure that he ate enough to put a little bulk on.

So far I'd taken care of his upper body and his stomach so I now turned my attention to is legs and after breakfast the next morning we got our running shoes on and I gave Martin a taste of cross-country running. I don't think I've ever heard so many expletives in the space of a couple of hours. Firstly I had to stop him from running like a girl and then I had to keep him running for more than thirty seconds at a time, but eventually he seemed to get his second wind and the expletives began to dwindle as he settled into a steady jog. We returned home for lunch and just as Martin was heading for the bedroom for a snooze I grabbed him and dragged him off to the swimming pool for another hour's exercise. A decent evening meal rounded off the day before he collapsed into bed and slept the sleep of the just.

As time progressed over the next couple of weeks I began to see the change in Martin; not only in his body but also in his attitude towards himself and towards other people. He slowly became more confident and would start conversations rather than waiting until he was spoken to. The only problem was that he still had his prissy girlie voice and it was putting a lot of people off, and at first I hadn't got the faintest idea how to put it right; then one Friday night I was lying in the bath after a particularly hard workout when an idea came to me. I'd heard Martin sing on one or two occasions and when he sang he had a very pleasant baritone voice. If I could only find a way to transfer that baritone timbre to his speech I had it licked!!

I thought, when I first suggested that Martin sing his conversations with me, that he was going to hit me; something that he would never have done in his Dolly' days, so I knew that I was making progress. Despite this I insisted and he was very half-hearted about it and conveniently forgot' on a number of occasions, but I persisted until, in the end, his speaking voice had lowered considerably and I was satisfied. With the continuing swimming and running Martin's musculature was improving visibly and the only thing left to tackle was his walking. His running was fine, but he still minced when he walked. I thought long and hard on how to tackle it and could only come up with one solution.

"Martin," I said one day about two weeks before school was due to start again, "I want you to start walking barefoot when we're out and about locally."

"WHAT!!" He roared in his new-found baritone voice.

"Just locally," I said, "not when we go into town or when we're running."

"But I'm going to be treading in dog shit and broken glass and chewing gum and all sorts of unmentionable things." He argued.

"Martin, we have to work on the way you walk. You're still walking like a girl and I think if we give this a try you'll be so intent on not treading in anything you'll forget about mincing."

"I DO NOT MINCE!" Martin boomed.

"I'm sorry, Martin, but you do." I said.

"Well I bet you I can walk the same as you if I try."

"It's a deal" I said, thinking that it wouldn't work. I'm glad I didn't make a bet on it because Martin was as good as his word and with a few exceptions he was walking pretty much the same as me within a couple of days.

It was at this time I stood back and took a good look at Martin. He'd come on in leaps and bounds but I was a little concerned that with his extra bulk, his old school uniform might no longer fit him so I asked him to try it on for me. He disappeared upstairs and about ten minute later he came down looking like a rag bag. As he tried to pull the front of his jacket together there was an ominous ripping sound, and when he turned around the central seam on the back of the jacket had a 3 inch slit in it. He must have grown in height too, because his trousers were shorter than I remembered, but as they were elasticated around the waist, they weren't regulation uniform anyway, but they were the sort that Martin always wore.

"Hell, Martin," I said, "I think you might have to get in touch with your mother and get her to send some cash for a new uniform.

"No problem," Martin replied, "I have a credit card that I can use for things like that. Besides, I think I need some new casual stuff as well. I can't very well go around in my old gear looking like I do now, can I?"

Martin was now really entering into the spirit of things and I was beginning to look forward to the reaction of our classmates when we went back to school, so I arranged with a few schoolmates who I knew I could trust to get together, and I asked if I could bring a friend along, not telling them who it was. We spent most of Friday at the shopping precinct and Martin asked for my advice on some of the items he bought, but I was delighted to see that his choice of new clothes fitted in well with his new, more masculine persona, although he still liked bright colours (but then I do too).

On Saturday we went off to meet my schoolmates. Of course, they knew Martin as well, but had not been particularly friendly with him. When we met up I introduced him just as `Martin' and I noticed that one of the boys looked closely at him, but then just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. I'd forewarned everybody that they should be ready to go swimming and we all had our trunks with us.

We went into the changing rooms, which were communal at this pool, and undressed. Martin kept himself to himself and faced away from everybody so they could only see his butt, but of course, his tight speedos emphasised his ample package and drew some attention and one or two smiles from the other lads. That, combined with the new muscular Martin attracted admiring glances from others in the pool of both sexes. We horsed around in the pool for a while, and then did some serious swimming, and Martin was totally accepted by the other lads, but then after we got out of the pool and were showering off the chlorine one of the lads snapped his fingers and said, "I know who Martin reminds me of!! No offence, Martin, but you remind me of a nancy boy at my school that we call `Dolly'."

Martin smiled and said, "I wondered how long it would take you to recognise me, Wilson."

Denny Wilson stood open-mouthed, looking Martin up and down. "I don't bloody believe it!" He said. "You knew about this, Divine (that's my name, remember?), didn't you!"

"Of course I did," I said, laughing. "Martin and I have been working together on his new persona all through the holidays."

The other guys were in fits of laughter, and all congratulated Martin and I made them swear that they'd keep quiet about it when we went back to school as he and I wanted to see the reaction from all the other kids; those who weren't likely to be so accepting.

As Martin slipped his trunks off I noticed that the other guys were checking him out and I spotted one or two grins and an open mouth or two, and at least one of them started getting a little hard. Martin certainly was well-endowed!!

We spent another couple of hours together and then headed off home. Martin was buzzing. He'd rarely been treated as an equal in the past and it was obvious that today had really boosted his ego; he was almost strutting!

The last few days of the holiday flew by and as we got ready for bed the night before term started Martin came over to me and said, "Brad, I don't know how to thank you for all you've done for me. I know I was a bastard at first and thought you were trying to turn me straight, but I've come to realise that that wasn't the case. Spending time with the guys last week was fantastic, and if the others at school treat me half as well, I'll be thrilled. Thank you, Brad." Martin bent forward and kissed me lightly on the lips before getting into bed.

I took a good look at Martin before I replied. His hair, now darker but with a lovely hint of auburn; his skin now free of blemishes with the health eating regime that I had out him on; the clearly defined muscles in both his upper and lower body. I really had done a good job, but I wanted to boost Martins ego.

"You did it all yourself, Martin." I said. "All you needed was a shove in the right direction."

"A kick up the arse more like." He said, grinning.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Goodnight, Martin." I said.

"Goodnight Brad." He replied. I realised that Martin's kiss, although chaste and innocent, had really had an effect on me and I had started to get hard. I smiled to myself as I realised that he had turned into the kind of guy that really interested me.

The following morning we made separate journeys to school because people were accustomed to seeing us arrive together. When I entered the quad I looked all around for Martin and saw him just by the gate standing talking to two guys in our year but in a different form. The conversation seemed quite affable and Martin was smiling broadly, from which I gathered that nothing untoward was going on. I slipped into the school and went up to the staff room and knocked on the door. It was opened by none other than the Headmaster and I asked to speak to Mr. Williams, my form teacher. The Head asked if something was wrong, but I assured him that all was well. He went off in search of Mr Williams, who came to the door shortly afterwards. He smiled when he saw me and said, "Well Divine, what can I help you with?"

"Well, sir." I began, "It's about Dolliman."

"Oh dear." Mr Williams replied.

"No, no sir." I said, "it's just that, well, he's changed since last term sir. I think you'll find that it's quite a transformation and I just wanted to play a little trick on the class because they probably won't recognise him."

"I see," Mr Williams said. "And how can I help you?"

"Well sir, when you call the register there will probably be a bit of a surprise when you call Dolliman's name and he answers, so I thought I just ought to warn you. Also would you mind if he and I don't sit together for registration? Otherwise somebody might realise who he is."

"I see." Mr Williams said. "And how will I recognise Dolliman?"

"Just look for the new boy, sir." I said with a grin.

"Is this transformation your doing, Divine?" He asked.

"Mine and Dolliman's sir. I'm sure you'll soon see that it's to his advantage, sir." I said.

"Very well Divine, now run along to the quad; the bell will be going soon."

The bell rang as I got to the quad and I managed to catch Martin's eye and winked at him as we walked into school, which brought a smile that lit up his face. When we got to our form room there was the usual hubbub and I went and sat at my usual desk and began talking to Jack Ross who sat behind me. Martin sat by himself at a double desk that wasn't normally used. One of the boys we'd met up with during the holiday began chatting to him, but was playing the game and treating him as though he was a new boy.

"Anyone seen Dolliman?" Fletcher asked; Fletcher was a bit of a bully and always had it in for Martin.

"Oh, I've seen him," I said, "I'm sure he's around somewhere." Just then Mr Williams swept into the room, his black gown billowing behind him and there was immediate silence. Everybody settled down as he took the register from his desk and opened it. The way this worked is pretty universal, I think. Mr Williams called each name in turn to which that boy acknowledged his name by calling out, `sir'.

Mr Williams looked around the room and his eyes settled on Martin for a moment and he raised his eyebrows slightly and smiled to himself.

"OK, off we go." Mr Williams said.

"Andrews"

"Sir"

"Appleby"

"Sir"

"Barton"

"Sir"

"Cartwright"

"sir"

"Currie"

"Sir"

"Divine"

"Sir," I replied and held my breath.

"Dolliman"

"Sir," came Martin's confident baritone voice.

Twelve or more heads swivelled towards him and mouths dropped open.

"DOLLY?!?!?!" Several voices called at once.

"Actually, I'd prefer Martin' or Dolliman' if you don't mind." He said, looking around with a smile.

"Well said, Dolliman," Mr Williams said. "Now if I may continue. Evans"

"Sir"

"Garrod"

"Sir." And so it went on, but there were whispers going all around the classroom until registration finished.

"Perhaps you'd like to take your usual seat now, Dolliman." Mr Williams said.

"Yes sir." Martin said and walked over to me and we `high fived'.

"Mission accomplished," I whispered.

"So far, so good." He whispered back.

"OK boys," Mr Williams said, "I know you've all got a lot to catch up on so you can chat together for the ten minutes before assembly, but if there's too much noise you'll be sitting in silence."

Martin and I were immediately surrounded by the class who wanted to know the hows and whys. Martin did his best to answer them, but I think he found it a bit overwhelming at first, but he quickly got his second wind and was soon taking it in his stride with no prompting or help from me. Before we knew it the bell for assembly rang and the crowd was carrying Martin off in the direction of the school hall. I was pleased for him, but I couldn't help feeling a little miffed because I had been his only friend up and till now, and we had spent the last seven weeks together 24/7, and now I seemed to have been left out, but when I got into the hall I spotted Martin waving to me because he had saved a seat next to him for me. The other lads seemed to think nothing of it as they were used to seeing us together. Assembly was the usual boring `same old, same old', and I was relieved to get out of the hall and off to my first lesson.

I wasn't scheduled to have classes with Martin during the morning, but we arranged to meet up for the mid-morning 15 minute break in the quad, and as I was approaching I saw what I had been dreading; Guy Studman! Studman was one of the school bullies and he had always rejoiced in bullying Martin in the past. As I got nearer I heard him saying, "I heard you'd changed, Dolly. Are you going to try to tell me you're going straight now?"

"No, Studman," Martin said, "I'm still gay and proud of it, but I'll have to disappoint you because you're just not my type, and I'd appreciate it if you'd drop the `Dolly', my name is Martin Dolliman." I began to run towards them as Studman drew his arm back to punch Martin, but I was saved the job of intervening by an unlikely saviour. Eddie Bragg was the boy that everyone took notice of. He wasn't exactly a bully, but he had a natural air of authority and everybody did as he asked without really knowing why.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Studman." He said in his usual authoritative voice. Studman stopped in his tracks. "If Dolliman has decided to change his image then it is none of your business; unless, of course, you fancied him the way he was?" Studman immediately dropped his arm and backed away from Martin.

"I don't see what it's got to do with you." Studman said.

"No, you wouldn't." Bragg said. "You don't have the brains that you were born with. Now I suggest you go away and play with the traffic, and if I ever catch you anywhere near Dolliman again, I'll give you a taste of your own medicine."

Studman walked away muttering as Bragg put an arm around Martin's shoulder. "I congratulate you, Dolliman, on the change. It really suits you. Now, if Studman or anybody else gives you any trouble just come and see me and we'll sort it out. Now then Divine," he said as he turned to me, "look after Dolliman here, he's made a big step towards changing his life and we have to make sure that it all goes well for him."

"Yes Bragg," I said.

"Thank you, Bragg," Martin said.

As we walked away I was aware of the silence that had surrounded us and that every eye had been on the exchange between Studman, Bragg and Martin, and I thought that with Eddie Bragg clearly on Martin's side he wouldn't have too much to worry about.

The rest of the day went without incident. I was amazed at lunchtime to see Martin in the company of various groups of boys, all of whom were smiling and chatting amiably. I didn't like to interrupt but every time he saw me Martin beckoned to me, but I didn't want to intrude on his new-found friendships.

When school finished I headed for the main gate and was surprised to see Martin standing there surrounded by half a dozen other kids, chatting and joking about. As soon as he saw me he ended their conversation and came to join me. "Brad, I missed you at lunchtime; why wouldn't you come and join me?"

"I didn't want to butt in to your conversations with your new friends." I said.

"They're not my new fr ... ... ... oh, wow, I suppose they are my friends now."

"I think you've been about the most popular boy in our year today, if not the whole school." I said.

"Maybe, but you've stuck by me through thick and thin and you didn't even disown me when I came on to you." Martin replied as we reached the bus stop.

"I'm sorry if I was cruel to you back then," I said.

"Don't be bloody stupid Brad," Martin said, "you were the only friend I had and although I fancied you like mad you never stopped being my friend."

"Yea, about that Martin," I said.

"About what?" he asked.

I took a deep breath and said, "Martin Dolliman, would you do me the honour of coming on a date with me?" I asked

"Fuck off Brad," Martin said, laughing.

"I mean it Martin," I said, keeping my face as serious as the situation dictated. "Don't you fancy me any more?"

"Of course I do but ... ... ... you're serious aren't you?"

"Never more so." I said. "I told you before that I fancied boys who behaved like boys, and you fall in to that category now, and I really want to see if we can get together." I said. "Now will you come out with me?" I pressed him.

"Try and stop me." Martin said as we both came back into the real world just in time to see our bus disappearing in the distance. We had been so wrapped up in our conversation that we hadn't even seen it arrive. Now that there was nobody else at the bus stop I glanced around to make sure that nobody was watching and kissed Martin lightly on the lips.

"Just because I let you kiss me, it doesn't mean you can get into my pants." He said. "Remember I told you ... ..."

"Yes, I know," I said, "You want to be wooed, courted and romanced."

"I really do." He said.

Here we are two weeks later and Martin's mother has returned from her trip and he has moved back in with her, but we have spent a lot of time and even a couple of nights together. Although Martin played hard to get at first, as soon as he realised that I truly was serious about him, he let me have my evil way with him, but I still have to work hard with the romancing.

We were lying in one another's arms last night when I said to Martin, "I have a friend named Robbie, and at the end of his Emails he always signs off with some words from an old song. `The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return.'** I think that's what I'm feeling now."

Martin nodded. "Me too." He said as we kissed long and deep.

**These words from `Nature Boy' by Eden Ahbez. You can find a version here sung by Christina Peoples. It is almost my favourite version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9tJ0DvhsDE

Would you like to hear more about the early love life between these two guys? Just Email me at the address below.

I am open to all kinds of feedback, and you can reach me at:

LuckyLex@luckymail.com