Transformed Robyn

Why did you call me Robyn?
By Yukari

Chapter 1: Where am I?

Never, have I dreamed that I would be anything but a boy and a teenager at the moment, well, fifteen years old. As far as I was concerned, I might have acted like a kid at times, but I was quickly outgrowing it. I had plans, and one of them, was to get my driver’s license and a car as soon as possible. Well, that’s what I thought before this had happened!

“Robyn! Wake up!” someone was standing at the doorway of my bedroom, their silhouette blocking the light from behind them, and they were calling in for someone by the name of Robyn. They had to have had the wrong room, and the wrong house!

I rose up from the blankets to correct whoever it was, when I noticed that several strange things happened. One, I was wearing a night shirt, where I normally slept naked, and looking a little closer at my chest, it looked a little more muscular than I had remembered myself last. The blankets on my bed, well the top bedspread, really, caught my attention. It was a comforter with teddy bears and roses on it.

The silhouette walked away from the door frame, and seemed to be leaving me to get out of bed on my own. Well, at least that was good. I kicked the strange blankets out of my way, and started to stand up, and that’s when I noticed the absence of something rather important to me. I was standing in purple and grey striped panties which would have fit with what was going on, but been spooky enough, but when I noticed the absence of a rather limp noodle in the panties, I really started to wonder what kind of perverted dream I was having. This could not be real.

I stripped the panties off just to be sure, and sure enough, I saw a lightly covered mound with a thin slit of a crack in it in place of what should have been balls and a penis. I shook as I walked towards the dresser to open it looking for the clothes that were inside it. Of course, in keeping with this horrible dream that I couldn’t awake from, I saw young ladies’ undergarments galore. Now, had I been in a girl’s bedroom, in my natural form, I have to admit, that this would be a dream come true, and I might have even stolen a pair of panties or something to remember this situation from, but as it was, I was horrified by what was going on, and therefore, just stood there staring at the undergarments.

Now, it hit me, that the muscles in my chest, that I thought I had felt before, it was most likely not a muscle I wanted to know about. It was probably, dare I say it? A pair of breasts were just budding from my bosom, and when I slipped off my undershirt, and saw the naked form in the mirror over the dresser, truth revealed what I feared.

Well, now, here I was a girl. By the looks of it, I was a young girl, probably just entering puberty, and I had darker-brown hair and green eyes. My chest was probably still too small for a bra of any kind, but there were definitely small pimple-like nipples sticking out like pyramids and the roundness of what I thought was muscle was definitely noticeable to me.

“Robyn,” an urgent voice appeared at my doorway again. It was a woman’s voice, and though by instinct because I am used to being a boy, I covered my privates as fast as I could, the woman at the door laughed.

“Honey, we are both women. You have nothing to hide, but if you don’t get a move on, you are going to be late for school. Now, come on, get something on.”

I looked over at the brown haired woman with light freckles, and green eyes. She looked kind, and her smile was genuine and warm.

“I’m not Robyn,” I told her.

She sighed. “Robyn, don’t play games. You are already late and I’ll probably have to take you to school again because it is likely you’ll miss the bus. Now get dressed.”

I looked up at her, and nodded not knowing what else to do. Maybe I could figure out what to do about this mess at school. I went back to the dresser and pulled out a pair of panties, a black t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans with a little ripping in the left knee. I took that and a pullover shirt with three buttons that was white with a picture of a kitten on it. I put these on, and then grabbing the school bag that laid on the floor by the bed, I walked down the steps to find a small hall at the bottom, the front door leading straight out, the kitchen to the left and the living room to the right.

“About time you were down for breakfast,” a man with light brown hair and blue eyes called from the kitchen. “You’re going to be late again, honey.”

“Sorry, dad.” I said trying to be automatic, but then he laughed and I knew something was wrong. What was he to me then?

“Sis, your child just called me dad,” the man said to the earlier brown headed woman.

“Don’t pay her much mind. Robyn has been acting strangely since last week when she decided to try out for the school drama team. Isn’t that tryout this afternoon, Robyn?” she asked me.

I nodded though there was no way I had any clue.

“I’ll expect you home a little later then, right?”

I nodded vigorously. The more time I had to figure out how to get back to being myself getting their Robyn back, the better! I hoped that it was possible. I wondered if Robyn was even at my school, but as I remembered my chest, I thought there was no way Robyn goes to my school. She can’t even be in high school with chests so small. Was she still in elementary school?

I walked out the door following the ‘mother’ figure since I didn’t know what else to do, and she took me to Carey Junior High school. Okay, so I’m in junior high school. That is going backwards, but at least it was only three years at most, and maybe even only one year.

I walked down the hall of the strange school hoping that Robyn had friends that would show me where to go. I walked over towards a group of girls at a table, hoping to find out what they knew about Robyn when I found out that it was as stupid as painting a sign on my head that read ‘clueless!’

“Well, look what we have here, girls,” one of the girls, a blond called out. “Little Robyn has actually come and made herself known to us that she is here. She must like our attention.”

“Let’s give her a reward then,” a chunkier girl said. “What do you think we should do for her?”

“Let’s check her for a stuffed bra!”

“I’m not even wearing a bra,” I said in indignation which caused several girls to whisper and some to giggle. Oops, that was definitely something that should not have been said.

“No bra?” one of the girls at the table asked. “Really? Well, maybe we should just check that you are actually wearing panties and not a diaper!”

“Why would you have to check something like that?” my voice gave me the chills. It was high pitched all the time, and it felt rather weird that when I spoke, I never once hear my own sounds.

“Well, if you are not wearing a bra in junior high school, well, maybe you still wear diapers too, if you are so underdeveloped.”

“I’m not wearing diapers!” I scolded them. “You better lay off.”

I wondered to myself though, quietly. If I actually hit them, would it be the same as a boy hitting a girl given my state? I know a gentleman never hits a girl no matter how stupid the girl is, but am I boy right now? If I’m a lady right now, then would it be okay, other than getting in trouble with the school, that is?

“Well, let’s check, then,” one of the girls came closer to me, her hand reaching out towards my jeans to probably pull them down.

I ran away from her, actually surprised at how fast that not only my feet were, but also my reflexes in dodging around things that left the bullies far behind me. Maybe Robyn’s body was used to dodging those girls, and if that is true, then maybe she is picked on all the time by them. I didn’t like people that hurt others just for the fun of it, and I was starting to think that maybe I should do something that maybe Robyn would never do if it was her. I should do something that would surprise these tormentors so much, that they would think twice before ever picking on her again, but what could I do? I didn’t even know what Robyn normally did.

I seemed to run directly into a class, where a teacher knew my name, or rather, the name of the girl I was supposed to be at the moment.

“Robyn? You are here a bit early. We still have ten minutes before class.”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied. “The truth is, I was… um… I’m going to go to my locker now. I thought I was late.”

“That’s okay. I’ll see you for class.”

Not knowing what else to do, I went to the office for the combination and the locker number I was supposed to use. I walked into the door, and waited for most everyone else to exit because I felt a little weird and also scared that if they heard, it would be more for everyone to pick on me about later.

“I’m sorry, I forgot my locker combination,” I said to the office attendant.

“Robyn, really, with your memory, it is surprising you can pass a test. Here, I’ll write it down for you once again. You might be in seventh grade, and this might be your first year with lockers, but honestly, everyone else has already learned their locker combinations by now.”

“I think I remember it, I just couldn’t get my locker open,” I say trying to invent an excuse for them to come with me and show me which locker is mine. It seemed to work.

“Follow me,” the lady sighed as she rolled her eyes. I learned my locker number and combination and just to make sure, I put the crumpled paper in my pocket for further reference.

Once I had my books, and the office assistant made sure I knew what my classes were for the day, she left me and I went back to the first period math class.

I saw two of those bullies in that class, and I looked down hoping to avoid their notice. I could hear them talking to other classmates.

“She had the office lady with her again. I think she forgot her combination again, or maybe she was turning the lock the wrong way again!”

“She’s so clueless.”

I would be blushing so much if I were really Robyn. As it was, I still felt a little put off from their harassing story, and the more I thought about what they were doing, the more I wanted to do something to get even, even if it meant hitting them.

Well, at least class was beginning, and there was nothing they could do to me while class was going on. They would risk the teacher finding out about their relationship with Robyn, and I was sure they didn’t want to be suspended for bullying a student.

Okay, well, there were definitely things I didn’t know about being a girl, and I wasn’t sure if these were going to be obvious to others before I got the hang of this, but I hoped that nothing bad would happen before I figured this all out, or before this terrible dream ended.

Well, I had hoped, but nothing ever happens nicely when you are in a situation like this, does it? I had somehow made it to the third period English with no real problems, and was hoping I was getting the hang of things when suddenly, in the middle of class, I realized I had to pee. Well, do girls really have it any different than boys do? I hoped not, and therefore, if girls noticed when boys did, that they had to pee, then judging by how much I wanted to go, I hoped I could wait until the end of class. I wasn’t sure if it would be a good thing to tell the teacher I wanted to go or not, especially if the teacher said no. As a boy, I would care less and just walk out of the teacher’s class if they said no, but as a girl, would I be setting myself up for more humiliation? I had to hold it because I had never noticed other girls asking to go to the toilet before in all the years I went to school.

[Sorry if anyone disagrees on this, I have no real experience or real knowledge, but I’m going to at least call Robyn’s bladder smaller than the main character’s bladder].

I sat in my seat, with my legs tightly held together, and I read the story given as an assignment like everyone else. I could feel the burning desire from deep within my body, and somehow, I could feel the melting ice sickles leaking drips of not cold, but hot drizzle into the tubes of my bladder trying to fill it over so that it might leak.

Looking up at the clock, I judged that I had about another thirty minutes of class left, and my knees were starting to shake a little bouncing off of each other. Maybe I really should ask. Could I without anyone noticing? Maybe if I went up to the teacher with my book, no one would know the real reason I’m pestering Mr. infamous Hagan as they called him. I didn’t know that at the time, though.

I walked over to his desk, and put my book on his desk as I tried to whisper in his ear as much as he’d let me.

“Please, sir, I have to go to the ladies’ room. Is that okay?”

“No, it is not okay,” he said loud enough that I was sure everyone in the room had heard. “You know the rules, Miss Robyn. Go sit down and work on the questions, or I’ll give you detention.”

I walked back to my seat, my face on fire with embarrassment because I was sure everyone now knew what my question had been despite having brought my book with me to ask him. Could he have said it any plainer or louder? ‘Look everyone, your classmate is going to pee her pants, and I don’t care. Watch her do it!’

I started to seath inside at what he had done, calling my predicament to everyone’s attention, but there was nothing I could do about it, but just sit and work on my work.

As the clock ticked closer to the finish of class, my inner privates became weaker and I could feel the burning desire to pee get stronger. I hoped that somehow, I could at least get to the bathroom and in the toilet before something really embarrassing happened to me. I didn’t even think this Robyn had any friends that would help her at this point. It certainly seemed that no one talked to her at all between classes.

Once again, I looked up at the clock on the wall as I squirmed in my seat. There was still fifteen minutes to go. The burning desire was nearly at the lips of my pussy, and I could feel every muscle inside me quivering to hold back the swell in my stomach. Tears were starting sting the backs of my eyes as they tried to squeeze forward. My face was heating up and sweat beads were forming on my forehead. I could smell the mix of sweat and perfume coming from my arm pits and my breast area. My legs were rubbing against each other as my knees continued to nervously bounce off of each other in little nervous twitches, the heels of my shoes constantly lifting and tapping on the floor.

When was this torture going to end? My sides started to develop a dull ache, and even my butt was starting to feel a little inflamed just at the tip of where you might poop. I didn’t feel anything in my bowels, but it must have just been the effort of keeping my pee inside that made it feel like I was starting to have a small hernia of sorts. What was I to do? Certainly, if I peed my pants, there was going to be a lot of trouble for me until I got out of this mess, and certainly for this Robyn, maybe for the rest of her life here at this school.

The clock seemed to stick at one time for an eternal moment, because when I looked up at hit, the minute hand was in the same place at three times and I knew that I had beat my knees together at least twenty times between glances. Finally, after the fourth time of looking up the minute hand had ticked only one click on the clock.

Am I going to pee my pants like a toddler? I nervously looked down at my faded blue jeans wondering if I was going to be able to wait. I felt my hands shaking, and there was a sudden urge to put them between my legs and to cup my mound hard to try to squeeze off the opening so that no pee would escape. As a boy, I had imagined that squeezing my member would be an easy solution in stopping the last minute dribbles, but I had not idea how I was supposed to really squeeze my tube close with a big mound hiding the right tube in question, and the thin tube being held hostage behind it in a small crack in my front that was not easily accessed from this position.

Damn it, being a girl was more difficult than I thought it was. How did girls hold it when they had to pee? Was I going to be able to wait until the end of the period? I was sweating, shaking, banging, and tapping my heals. The next minute was another eternity, and then it happened, slowly at first.

I dribbled a little bit, and feeling the dampness gather in the gusset of the panties and the warmth spray against the folds of my mound, I shook trying to use sheer will to close up the leak inside my privates. But I knew it wasn’t going to last long. I really was going to pee my pants if I didn’t go to the bathroom right away. I raised my hand in an attempt to ask at least once more before peeing my pants. I didn’t want to just sit there and do it, and even if I did seem more like a boy for doing so, I was really tempted to just walk out of class if he said no.

“What is it, Miss Robyn?” he asked in such a voice, that he scared me a little.

“Sir?”

“Yes…?”

“I… I really really really have to pee, please?”

He shook his head. “If you can’t wait like a young lady, then go, but I’m taking points off and you will get afterschool detention.”

“Yes sir,” I started to stand up. “I just can’t wait any longer.”

“Come here so I can write you a pass.”

I walked over to his desk, or rather, shuffled keeping my legs close together, and my left hand between my legs to emphasize my predicament to the class at large. It was rather humiliating standing there bent over like that, and I was sure my blush had deepened several shades, but I didn’t dare take my hand from my privates.

“Go,” he handed me the pass.

1 Like

Re: Transformed Robyn

Just wondering, does anyone understand this story, is it too confusing? Did it feel rushed, and do you feel that I should take more time developing this first part before going on, or do you think it’s okay to move on with the story?

Re: Transformed Robyn

Chapter Two:

Well, now that school is finally and I’ve escaped the infamous tyrant teacher’s clutches of detention, I can finally get to the drama club to see what other hints in this Robyn’s life I might use to figure out how this nightmare started.

I had heard somewhere that most girls keep a diary. I wondered if Robyn also kept one. I didn’t like this awkward body at all. She had to sit for everything, because I didn’t know how to balance her butt over the toilet seat like I heard that girls often do to pee. She had an imbalance in her hips that caused me to sway in a funny way when I walked, and I wasn’t sure if that was really natural, or if I was walking wrong and drawing more ridicule and attention to her weirdness from her classmates. Most importantly, to me anyway, was that her chest seemed to get in the way of things at the most inopportune moments.

I was just about to walk through a shutting door to get through to the auditorium, for example, when the door seemed to shut right against my chest despite the fact that if I were a boy, I would have avoided it. Another thing that was really embarrassing, was when in P.E. class, I meant to hit the ball in a set in volleyball, but because I had not judged for my extra size chest, I ended up missing the ball, and it hit me right in the chest, and it hurt pretty badly.

Was there any end to a girls problems with her body? I walked into the auditorium just in time, the door having hit my chest and the door frame having scraped my back between them. I pushed the door hard, and walked into the room, my butt swaying in such a way, I wasn’t sure if people would start mocking me or not.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” the theater arts teacher began. “We are going to do a reproduction of Scrooge this year, so we must cast the perfect roles so as to make our version entertaining if surprising to the the audience.”

I just stood there and listened to the strange teacher talk about some story that had nothing to do with Scrooge at all, but rather about a selfish young high school girl. Whatever they were saying, something inside of my head, maybe a lingering voice that belonged to the original Robyn, seemed to scream in excitement. It seemed that she had been waiting for this trial for a long time, so I really couldn’t just blow it off. If I made her lose out, and she took her body back tomorrow, she would certainly be upset. I could tell.

“Well,” one of the girls that had tormented her earlier walked up from behind me. “What is Robyn Mills doing in this class? Do you really think you can act when you can’t even walk?”

Maybe it wasn’t just me, then. Maybe she always sways when she walks. Well, if that was the case, at least I hadn’t done anything in my awkward walking to draw any more attention to her than she already did. I could hope.

“I can walk just fine, Angie!” I retorted having learned her name in an earlier class. “But I doubt you can even sing!”

Angela smirked as though that was a pretty weak comeback, and I had to admit, since I didn’t know anything about her at all, it might have well been.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” the teacher called us around her. “I have the main character tryouts as being Angela, Robyn, and Samantha. What we will first do, is see how you do the voices in these scenes. Robyn, you first. Read about the first dream.”

I sighed and then gathered a huff of breath in an attempt to gather my courage. I would never have signed up for even a small part let alone a lead role in a play. I was way out of my element here.

I walked up on the stage, and I looked down at the line before meeting the best friend ghost. I looked up at the teacher, and back at the paper for another moment, then I took another breath before closing my eyes, and reciting what I had read again and again.

“Oh, Susan, is that you? Why do you haunt me in your afterlife?”

I don’t think I was at all convincing, but the teacher nodded and let Angela go next. Angela was actually really good at it, and the other girl was really good, too. I didn’t see how Robyn had a chance at all with me pulling her strings. Still, there wasn’t much I could do now.

I wasn’t too surprised when Angela was chosen over me for the lead part, but it seemed my quiet manner was perfect for the ghost of Christmas future. The teacher had promised to dress me up in a mysterious dark color, and I would mostly point and give a very low mumble about the things to be.

Oh well, that was fine. What I really needed to do was find out how to get out of this strange girl’s body and get back to my own world, my own bedroom and family, and my own life. That was what I really wanted to focus on, so after they had decided our parts, maybe about an hour or so later, I walked through the halls back to Robyn’s locker and searched around it for a notebook or something that could have been a diary.

“Robyn, what are you doing?” someone I didn’t really recognize asked.

“Just looking for something,” I replied turning back around with my locker open to look at the strange boy in a brown-tan jacket and somewhat messy brown hair.

“Oh, well, I was wondering, do you want to go to the school dance with me this weekend?”

“I’m not sure I can go yet,” I said in a way of excuse not knowing if Robyn would have said yes to him or not. Really, looking at the pitiful look in his face, I was tempted to say yes but that wouldn’t have been fair to Robyn, would it? Anyway, with him walking off thinking that I was thinking about it, I turned to continue my search for something that would tell me what she had been doing that might give me some hint about how to get things back to where they were.

I fished everything out of the locker, and organizing it all back in again, I discovered that Robyn didn’t leave anything in her locker that resembled a diary or anything else that could be helpful in identifying what had happened to get me here.

I slammed the locker shut and started down the steps to the parking lot. It was going to be a short walk to her house, and I wondered if I was even going to remember how to get back to her house since I was driven that morning. I sighed.

As I started to pass the school phone in the lobby, I stopped and fished in my pocket glad to find a quarter. I went to the phone, and just put my hand on the numbers. It seemed that Robyn’s hand had autodial memory, and I was able to call someone. Hopefully it was her mother or her uncle.

“Mom?” I called into the phone nervously.

“Yes, honey?”

“It’s a little late. Can you please please come and get me?”

“Sure, honey. I’ll be about thirty minutes, okay?”

“Alright,” I sighed in relief. At least something went right.

Now, what else could I do to try to find out what had happened to the real Robyn, and to get back to my own life. Could I just maybe try to wish myself back? I doubted that.

1 Like

Re: Transformed Robyn

I’m actually really enjoying this. I honestly couldn’t care less about diaper content, I’m really enjoying the story as is. You’re doing a great job, only thing I don’t get is the focus on the chest when you said that it she had practically no breasts, yet it interferes with stuff.

Please continue writing this story, I’m enjoying every bit of it.

Re: Transformed Robyn

Sorry, it is true, that it is very small for a girl, but as a boy, I just imagine it would be awkward, and seem to be in the way when it really isn’t anywhere like that. I’m trying to develop how uncomfortable and clumsy a boy might find himself in a girl’s body.

Re: Transformed Robyn

Sorry, I feel I’m starting to write myself into a corner, so I thought I better start over here:

Robyn’s Life
I woke up briefly in the night as I normally do at times, and I turned to look at the digital alarm clock next to my double bed, only it wasn’t there. Instead, further in the room, I could just make out the silhouettes of a dresser with a round mirror over it, a desk and chair in one corner, a small table in the center of the room, and a pile of laundry near the door. The room looked nothing like my room.

Thinking I must be dreaming one of those strange hard to wake from dreams, I closed my eyes again, groaning at the familiar impossible task of waking up. What was surprising, however, was that the groan was not only well perceived by my ears, but the tone of it was wrong. I tried to sit up in the bed, which I found I was able to do. That was normal in these dreams, but because the room was unfamiliar, I expected to have a difficult time finding the light. I kicked my feet over the side of the bed, but rather than the dream like floating feeling I normally got when I was in a strange house dream, I felt the warm fluff of the shaggy carpet tickling my bare feet. My bare legs felt a little cool as they left the blankets, and I reached the door where I seemed to find the light switch automatically with my left hand.

I looked around the room, and found that not only was it a stranger’s room, but everything indicated that a girl lived here, not a boy! What the hell? I then looked down at my nearly naked body, and saw adolescent boobs peeking out from my chest, these somewhat perky if roundish and small as girls go. Further down towards my middle were a pair of pink and grey striped full bloomer style panties which were actually wet, and when I felt my bum with my hand, I knew what had happened. I had peed the bed in this dream where I was a girl. What the hell?

I walked over to the bed and pulled the blankets off of it, and saw several stains that indicated that this was not the first time for this girl to pee her bed. I couldn’t believe this. How could a dream be this vivid. Even the teddy bear on the bed had distinct pee stains on it from being kept in bed with her. I walked to the dresser mirror and saw that there was no way I could be any older than a junior high school student. My hair was brown-red and flowed down my shoulders soft and silky. My green eyes stared out into the mirror with moist tears in them, probably because I was frightened that somehow, this was really happening, or maybe it was the dream girl who was sorry she had peed her bed and would have been thinking in panic how she was going to hide her latest accident.

I didn’t care. I just wanted to wake up. I walked back to the bed, and hesitated because I just knew I was going to feel that wet piss on me when I laid down, but I hoped by telling my body that it was asleep, it would really wake up from this strange nightmare. Only it didn’t.

I crawled back onto the wet bed, not able to really find a dry place to get comfortable in, and pulled the blankets over me and tried to close my eyes. Well, maybe I slept a little, I’m not sure, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in the same light still on girl’s room, and a woman much taller than my current size standing at the doorway.

“Robyn,” she called to me. “Time to get up, honey. Did you have another wet night?”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Her tone didn’t sound upset, but more supporting, so I nodded my head yes.

“We really need to get you to see a doctor, honey. There is no way a twelve year old should be still wetting the bed unless there is something that can be fixed, so I hope that he finds something that he can fix. Anyway, get up and get dressed, baby.”

The woman walked out of the room closing the door as she did. I could hear her talking to someone in the hallway, probably telling them about the wet bed. My face blushed as I thought about what that conversation involved, even if I was reduced to twelve years old again. In my mind, I was already seventeen, and nearly ready to graduate high school. I was thinking about joining the army or something like that, and I knew that if this bedwetting was a real thing, there is no way I would join something like that.

I really hoped that this dream would end soon.

I got out of bed, feeling absolutely gross having crawled back into the wet bed, and finding out that I had not awakened from the dream. I went through the dresser until I found a pair of blue panties to put on, and just as I pulled them up, the wet pink and gray ones laying at my feet, my door opened suddenly, and a man with red hair stared in at me.

“You pissed the bed?” the angry looking man said as he stared down at my feet looking at my peed in panties. “I told you what would happen the next time you peed your pants, didn’t I?”

I shook knowing that he was going to do something mean about it.

The earlier woman came in seconds later.

“Jack, I told you! It’s not her fault! She’s my kid! I’ll take care of her.”

“Jenny, you let her get away with too much as it is. I’m her uncle, and I pay the rent in this house. If she’s going to pee her pants like a baby, then she’s going to do what I tell her.”

“You better not hit her.”

“I won’t if she does what I tell her without a fight.”

“Jack, what are you going to make her do?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing terrible. Actually, at school, she’ll be glad of my solution if she has an accident there.”

“What is your solution?”

“Pull ups in the daytime and baby diapers at night,” he said simply. “She needs to learn to get up in the night to pee, or she’ll be treated like a baby twenty-four hours from now on.”

“You can’t do that to her.”

“Oh no? Would you rather try to find a place to live on your own?”

Jenny knew that would be impossible. I could see that he was winning, and I just hung my head. Diapers at school would be embarrassing, but getting my mom kicked out because I peed myself, and then didn’t follow his rules about how to solve the problem, I really couldn’t bear that. But, wait, wasn’t this a dream? Maybe I should fight it!

“Good,” he said. “Now, Robyn, come here.”

He already had a pull up in hand. “Pull down those panties and stand right here,” he pointed in front of him.

A little nervous, I turned so my back was to him, and I backed towards him, my hands for intent on hiding my pee-pee place than my chest, though it was embarrassing to be seen in a noticeable chest in front of these people, too. I didn’t really even know them, though I suspected in the dream, that Robyn was more than used to her mother and her uncle.

When I got up to him, he reached his hands around me, and pulled up the pull up on me, not letting me do any part of if myself.

“There, and when you get home, this pull up better be dry, or you’ll be in diapers from the moment you get home.”

I nodded, now with my pee-pee area covered, I changed to cover my chest with my arms.

“Alright, get dressed,” he barked and left the room.

“I’m sorry,” Jenny told me. “But he does supply us with a roof over our heads and food on the table, so we really have no choice but to do as he asks of us. Just finish getting ready, okay?”

I nodded.

::I promise, I will try to progress the story so it makes sense.::

1 Like

Re: Transformed Robyn

Truthfully, I preferred the original start. This just dives straight in to the humiliation. While the shock value is worth something from a plot perspective, it still feels like you’re trying to get the protagonist diapered as fast as possible, even though I know that’s not your goal.

Re: Transformed Robyn

Thank you. I’ll think about it again.

I really want to write something that is going to say, look, dang it, I’m a normal person, and I don’t like situation one bit! I’ll think a little more about. Honestly, the start also seemed a little out of place for me….

I’m thinking.

Re: Transformed Robyn

I understand. However, just the shock of waking up in a body that clearly belongs to the opposite sex is enough.

Why not let the stress HE is dealing with cause the bedwetting problem that leads to the uncle’s abusive reaction?

Re: Transformed Robyn

Originally, I thought that Robyn was wetting her pants, so found a way out of the abusive actions of her uncle, but your idea might be better.

Re: Transformed Robyn

Robyn’s Life
Chapter One

The night air was cool as I pulled the warm blankets further up to my chin and curled my feet to keep them warm in the blankets. The darkness of the room seemed to make me feel that it was still hours before time to get up, and I really didn’t want to wake up at the moment. I couldn’t remember what I had been dreaming about, but whatever it was, I felt very content to stay where I was.

There was a smell that I couldn’t identify in the air. Just what it was, was impossible to trace. It didn’t smell bad or anything, it was just… curious. Tried as I might, I couldn’t get the overpowering aroma from penetrating my brain enough to cause my eyes to flutter open. I was lying on my stomach at the moment, my brain thinking back to yesterday afternoon.

You see, I’m a high school senior, and though I really liked this girl at my school, I had completely chickened out on asking her to the prom. I just wasn’t good at asking girls out at all. Matter of fact, I’ve never asked a girl for any kind of outing at all because I was just that shy, and for the most part, girls seemed to like guys that are sure of themselves, even jerks, over guys like me, so you can guess how many times I’ve been on a date at all. Never.

Well, the smell had caused me enough intrigue that I opened my eyes for the first time since feeling the pull of the morning, but as I looked around in the dark, I noted that several things were out of place. First, upon turning to my back and looking back over at the other side of my bed, I could see that my nightstand and my digital red flash displaying lit alarm clock was missing. In place of it, the room seemed expanded, and I could see a large dresser against one wall with a round mirror facing me, or at least that was what it looked like. I could really only see silhouettes at the moment because of how dark the room was.

“Curious.”

I looked to the foot of the bed, and saw a small desk with a chair. Somewhere between the dresser and the desk, there was also a card table, or at least a small square table about that size with three chairs around it.

Now, I realized what this was…, or at least it feels like that, when you dream you wake up, but you are not really awake, and so you try to wake up again and again, until you finally succeed just as you get scared that it is impossible to wake up. That is what I must be experiencing, or that was what I told myself.

I closed my eyes, and waited a few minutes, and then tried to open them again, expecting the room to have changed slightly, just enough to make me feel like I might be awake this time, but in reality, nothing had changed at all. Everything was exactly as I had seen it a moment ago, even the pile of clothes lying next to the bed.

“What the dog?” I called out.

Never in these dreams had I remembered hearing myself call out, nor had I ever remembered having a voice that sounded a bit higher pitched and almost… girl-like! I clasped my hands over my mouth, probably with my eyes widening to as large as silver dollars in the dark. Something was definitely different about this dream!

I tried to close my eyes again. I would try to force myself back to sleep, and then wake up. But I didn’t feel tired at all. My eyes seemed to hurt from being forced to stay closed, and curiosity kept trying to make me peek. I gave up and sat up, still in the same bed that was different from my own in the different room.

Looking closer, I could see that the bedspread had little flowers on it, and that it was pink. I sighed and waited for what was next to come in this strange dream that felt less and less scary, but much more mysterious. Why was I dreaming that I was a girl?

The realization had not hit me until I had actually thought it. Yes, I was dreaming I was a girl. I felt something more to my chest than just the normal barrow muscles and flat nipples. No, the chest was definitely with shape, small round hills or the like were pushing through the skin, and as I put my hand over my chest, I found it bare, and that with the nipples now standing nearly erect, it was much more like little mountains with a valley that fell between them, the space between them was very narrow, and the valley felt quite deep.

“What the hell?” I nearly yelled the same girlish voice firing through my ears from earlier. “What am I doing here?”

“Robyn? Is that you? Are you awake?” came a sound from outside the door just before it opened. I sat up looking the direction of the door, the blankets having fallen from my chest just as it opened. Thank goodness it was just another girl, but what the… I’m not even sure I liked that. Dream or not, this was not comfortable.

“I’m awake,” I said hoping she would close the door sooner than later.

“So you are. You are going to high school today, so you should go get your new clothes we got you for school.”

“What?” I asked my mind racing. “What do you mean I’m going to high school today?”

“Well, it’s the first day of school, and you start high school today. Did you forget?”

I nodded not knowing what else to say. I was starting high school? that meant that in my dream, I was at least 2 maybe three years younger than my real age. I sighed and waited for the woman that I still didn’t recognize to shut the door, then I climbed out of bed seeing that I was in a pair of pink and grey striped panties with little pony designs running along the gray stripes.

I was glad that the woman had not stayed, and the door was now closed as I wondered to the dresser with the small round mirror in it reflecting my room. Or was it?

I looked through the mirror, and I thought I saw, not the reflection of this room, but the reflection of the room in my original home. Despite that, I could not find myself anywhere, and what looked back at me through the mirror was definitely a girl with somewhat decent ‘cupcakes’ as I started to call them out of respect for not wanting to offend anyone else, and out of embarrassment of calling them the many proper things they might ought to be called. They were not so small that they were unnoticeable, but rather, they were seeming to be calling attention to them which really spooked me. I knew I couldn’t hide them at school, and somehow, I feared going to school as a girl. I just… it was not something I was familiar with at all.

My long strawberry blond, almost red in places, hung down to my shoulders, and my green eyes stared back through the mirror. Well, these were mine, while I was Robyn, but my real body should have had nearly black-brown hair, blue or green eyes depending on the shirt I wore, and definitely male chests and male boxers on my pelvis.

I shook my head and opened the dresser top drawer to find some undershirts, all girls, some bras, of which I had no experience in wearing, removing, or even helping with as a guy who had never had a girlfriend in all my high school days. I shook as I held this fragile strap out with two sewn-in baskets of some type. Was this what a bra really looked like? My mother had never even made me do the laundry because she always feared I’d find out too early what bras looked like or worse.

I turned it over and over in my hands trying to figure out how I was supposed to put it on. Naturally, I wanted to put it on like a regular shirt, you know, pull the straps across the front of my chest, but logic told me that that was definitely wrong. How did girls get something like this on? I couldn’t even see what I was doing!

I tried to put on an undershirt and played with the idea of skipping the bra, but when I tried that, something intimidating told me that if I did that, it would be worse than showing off my panties at school. No, I had to try to put it on. I removed the undershirt and pulled the bra over my over pronounced ‘cupcakes,’ and reached in back, but still could not really get the straps to connect. I gave up and peeked out the bedroom door.

My face blushing bright red, I was sure of it because it certainly felt on fire, I called down the steps to the woman, calling ‘mom,’ hoping that was the right word.

The woman came in and saw that I was completely undressed and shook her head at me.

“Robyn, you’re going to be late,” she said. “What’s wrong with you this morning.”

“I guess I’m so nervous,” I invented, “that I can’t get my bra on right.”

The woman looked at the ceiling as if thinking ‘oh brother,’ but she came over, and reached behind me to pull the bra straps together. Then she pointed at my chest.

“Adjust yourself, honey,” she said, but I could only stare at her blankly.

Sighing, she showed me how to pull my breasts into the cups of my bra. “I swear,” she said as she did so. “You are either playing around because you are scared of school, or your development issues are getting worse every year.”

“Development issues?” I mouthed wondering what she might be talking about. Is there something wrong with this girl whose place I was taking?

The woman didn’t leave to let me get dressed on my own now, though, but rather, pulled out a pink and purple striped shirt and put that over my head after pulling an undershirt on me, and then she pulled on a skirt over my ‘pony’ panties.

“There, all dressed except for socks. Need help with those too?” she asked looking at me as if to dare me to say yes.

I shook my head no.

“Good, come down to breakfast after you put your socks on,” she said.

I walked out of the room with some white socks on that came just over my ankles. I walked down the short hall-balcony with only four doors in it. My door was the third from the furthest end from the stairs. I walked down to the living room, and then saw a couple of steps up to the dining room as though the living room was a sunk in style.

In the kitchen, just beyond the dining room, were that woman again, and a man with red hair.

“Uncle Jack said he’ll take you to school this morning,” the woman said. “I would do it, but I have to go in early today.”

“What about the bus?” I asked automatically, thinking that girl or not, I wouldn’t want to be seen by my peers as someone so dependent on the adults in my life.

“We’ve already talked about the bus,” the woman said. “You can’t ride the bus until we are sure you know the way both to and from school in case of an emergency. With your condition, we have to make sure you know exactly where you are so you don’t get lost.”

Condition? I was liking my situation less and less. The way the woman seemed to be talking about me, I wondered if I was supposed to have some kind of slow learning problem or something. I was getting really tired of this dream in a hurry, and I wanted more than ever for it to end, but it just kept going on and on.

Before I knew it, we were driving to MY old high school. I wondered if anyone would recognize me, and if somehow, I would be made fun of for being dressed in this girl getup since I had been such a jerk before towards anyone that seemed gay. Maybe it was a kind of payback. I definitely was not gay, and I certainly hoped that no one would think I was. Then, I reminded myself it was a dream. No matter what people thought about me in this place, it would all be in my head. No one would really think that way in real life, and so, sighing with my shoulders falling in relief to some realization that I had an out, or I hoped I did, I walked into the ‘new school’ a little more confident.

Of course, since I knew where everything was, already, I walked right to the lunch room and ordered a cinnamon roll to eat for breakfast while I searched through my bag for a schedule. Interesting, the cinnamon roll tasted just the same as it always did, and it really did have a rich cinnamon-like taste and the frosted sugar really made my hands sticky! How could I imagine that so clearly? I really wanted to wake up, and now!

I found my schedule, and I moaned when I saw who my fourth period teacher was, Mr. Hastings for English and right after the PE class on the other side of the school. Mr. Hastings was the most anal teacher in the school, and he didn’t accept any excuses. Remembering back, I don’t remember having him for fourth period though, and I was sure that I had had PE for first period, so this was not just some memory. It was something my mind was making up as we went, and the more it went, the scarier it felt.

After eating the rather taste-filled sweet bread, I walked directly to the Algebra class, knowing the school much better than I had when I was in the tenth grade. I was actually relieved to know where I was going. If I had been in a completely foreign environment on top of all else that was going on, I’d probably have gone crazy already. Still, things were getting more and more strange as I walked through the familiar halls. The halls were the same, the classrooms were nearly the same, but something else was not the same.

As I peeked through some of the open doorways for the bathrooms on the way to the algebra class, I smelled some sickening smells of tobacco and other things that I didn’t want to know coming from them. The smells were so vivid, I was actually feeling a little sick to my stomach from them and I passed by them as quickly as possible. I was glad for the privacy wall that we had to navigate around when going into the bathrooms, because at the moment, I felt really scared of looking in the boys’ room because I was supposed to be a girl, and I felt even more nervous of looking in on the girls, knowing that all the partition doors for the stalls had been removed two years ago when someone had been caught smoking pot on school grounds. The school had done that so that no one would feel safe smoking or bringing drugs into the school ever again, and during my time at school I thought it had worked.

I got into the math class, and waited patiently while the teacher sorted out those that went to the wrong class by mistake. Sitting patiently, I noticed that more than a few girls and a couple of boys were pointing in my direction and whispering mysteriously.

Sheepishly, I closed my legs, and turned away from them fearing that they were making fun of me for some strange reason.

Before I knew it, the teacher was going through the first day of school rituals, first passing out text books to every student, recording our book numbers in their records, and then handing out the syllabus which included class expectations, rules, and what we will learn for the year. I sighed as I stared at this paper, knowing every part of it word for word. I had had this teacher before, and after reading just the first paragraph, I realized that I recalled exactly how she ran the class.

Students around me seemed to be out of their element, no one really ready for high school. I was beyond those first day jitters as far as knowing what to expect from the teachers, but I realized that I had other issues that were coming to surface in my mind. I don’t know any of these other students. What if they think I’m a nerd, or I’m lame, or that I’m gay?

“It’s only a dream,” I mumbled to myself to remind myself that none of this could be real.

“Excuse me, Ms. Barret,” the teacher called over at me. “Did you say something while I was talking?”

“No ma’am,” my high pitched girl voice surprised me again, and without thinking I covered my mouth with my hand. Other kids looked over at me, and chuckled and giggled.

“That’s enough,” Mrs. Haile called out to the class at large. “We do not laugh at other students in this room, or we will all stay after class and offer Robyn an apology.”

The other students rolled their eyes and waited for the teacher to continue going through the boring syllabus, rules, procedures, and expectations with them. Why the teachers wasted time by giving students a paper and then reading it to them rather than having them do so on their own always irritated me, but if they think we have to be directed like four year olds, maybe it was just part of the dynamics of how we treated them back. It was always students against teachers in my head.

Well, I was more than happy to see that the class ended, and the other students were far more interested in finding their next new class than tormenting me, so I walked off to find my Sociology class, this class taught by a man named Mr. Kean. I wasn’t sure about this particular teacher as I had not taken that particular class in the tenth grade. However, if he was anything like the regular teachers at the school, I could guess his policies.

When we walked into the room, the first thing I noticed was that the television was pulled to the front of the room, and the recording machine was already on. The television screen was blue, ready to play back whatever the teacher had set in there.

“Mr. Kean,” I raised my hand after taking my seat.

“Yes, Miss?” he asked not yet knowing my name.

“Are we watching a movie on the first day of classes?”

“No ma’am. That would be a waste of your time and mine. I have something else loaded in that machine, which I will direct everyone’s attention to once everyone is in the classroom.”

I nodded and waited for the classroom to fill up.

It turned out, that in this class, the first ten minutes of class would be dedicated to watching some news program he had taped previously probably at home the night before.

“I want you all to keep notes on what they talk about in the news, and to refer to those notes often while we are looking at what society is like. When we compare societies both ancient and modern, you will be able to make personal conclusions about things that change and things that stay the same.”

He then turned on the news, and I sat there writing down some of what they were talking about. I didn’t really understand what he wanted us to write, even though I was older, because I don’t think he was really that clear about what he wanted. It seemed hard to keep up with what they were saying.

Once the news moment was over, it lasting about ten minutes of the class, I was happy to move on getting the syllabus and to have him talking to us about what we would be expected to do. This news moment would be a routine procedure in every class, and now, he explained it more fully. We were to not just take notes, but to make a note to ourselves about what we felt about this information.

What was more, we were going to explore what society was like in many different environments around the world and in different social classes even within the United States. Were people even in one country so different? It seemed like he believed that was true.

I could care less what he thought about society to tell the truth, and wondered if it was impossible to change my class for American History, something that seemed far more interesting to me. Still, for the period, I was stuck, and I was more than happy when I was allowed to leave Sociology and go to the Physical Education class.

I arrived in the locker room, and waited for the girl’s teacher to come around with a lock for me. This was not new to me, and I knew already what was expected. The next day, I would bring my PE uniform to class, and I would be inspected and get graded on keeping my PE uniform clean and wearing it every day as well as participating in classes and basically just being a student. I had only put up with taking the class for one year, but I still remembered the tediousness of keeping up in that class. It was easy to keep a good grade as long as you were willing to please the teachers.

After the P.E. class, however, my first trial as a girl struck me. I was on my way to Mr. Haile’s class, the strictest, and possibly worst teacher of all time, when I realized that I should visit the bathroom. Well, even as it was, I rarely had to go badly after just one class, and I knew that with the tight schedule of dressing in P.E. class, and with that class being on one side of the building while Mr. Haile was on the other, it might be a bad idea to try to sneak in. I would be able to wait until after that class, and anyway, then, it would be lunch, so I wouldn’t be rushed to use the toilets, right?

I walked into the Mr. Haile’s class confident that I could wait through one fifty-five minute class. I didn’t really even have to go that badly as it was, so there was really nothing to worry about.

What I would have given to know at that time, how much harder it was as a girl, what I know now. Not only that, but there was another problem.

I sat third desk back from the front, and in the first row, and that put me right by the teacher’s desk. I sighed because if I had a choice, I’d be on the other side of the classroom, but there being nothing else to do but obey if I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, I just sat.

It was just a dream. I sat thinking, I could start something if I want to. Nothing bad would come from it, because this isn’t real! I would just wake up, and no one would know anything about it. Even as I thought it though, I just couldn’t get my shy ass to stand up and do anything that would get me noticed.

He was just as anal if not more so than I remembered him. He passed out our English books and he paused half way in, taking a moment to explain that even if we ‘dog ear’ the book, we would be held accountable because it damages the books. If we even wrote light lines in the books, he would know, and we would be held accountable.

“How are you going to hold us accountable?” one of the other students suddenly interrupted him.

“For one,” he said taking a breath to steady his nerves. “You have just cause your classmates to wait one minute after the bell for talking out of turn. Do it again, and the class will wait a minute and a half. I have every right to make you wait up to five minutes after class since your next period is lunch, so don’t waste my time, or I’ll waste yours. For another, it is true you might not have a job to pay for the book, so I will take it out of your grade. For example, if you do fifty dollars damage to a book, you will lose 5% of your total grade for the semester. Do you understand?”

The student nodded and became quiet. After that, no one dared to speak until they were given a chance to raise their hands, and even then, everyone was too scared to respond to the new rules that were imposed on them. I knew that was going to happen though. It had not surprised me at all, but what I wasn’t ready for, was that the pressure in my bladder started to pulsate, and I felt a little warm tingling ‘down stairs,’ that told me that I really needed to use the bathroom soon.

I looked over at the clock and noted that we still had at least twenty minutes of class left. I looked over at Mr. Haile, and knew right away that being uncomfortable for about twenty minutes was much more desirable than making this hard-ass angry. Besides, not only might he say no, but I could earn the class another thirty seconds of being late for lunch, something I didn’t want everyone hating me for.

The discomfort grew little by little, but it was no mistake that by the end of the period, my knees were bouncing off of each other, and my butt was scooting back and forth in the chair I was sitting in. There was a kind of constant squeaking noise that no one else seemed to identify though my face felt fiery enough that I wondered how they didn’t know it was me.

The teacher finally let us go, a minute after the bell just as he had promised and just as I knew he would, and I started to walk with everyone to the main hall where I could find a washroom. Then it hit me. It was only a dream, but still, I had to choose.

If I were to go in the boy’s room, would that make me a pervert since I was displaying a girl’s body? If I went into the girl’s bathroom, would that make me a pervert because I might see the other girls going pee? Which one should I use?

Even as I tried to make up my mind, I could see other students filing into each one, according to his or her own sex, and I knew I had to make a decision soon. I held my breath, and I walked into the door for boys, but when I got just on the inside of it, I met two football players who smiled down at me.

“You’re in the wrong toilets, miss,” they said.

Typical of dreams, if something can get in your way, it will. I blushed and backed out stammering out ‘sorry,’ and then got myself pushed into the girl’s room. I walked around the block of wall, and my mouth dropped.

There were literally, lines of six girls in front of each of four stalls, the lines of the girls were busy talking about their first day at school while the open stall doors of the girls inside, blushed as they exposed themselves to their classmates.

“Why the hell don’t they put doors on the stalls?” I whispered under my breath. “This is ridiculous.”

“I know, right?” a girl in front of me responded. “But hey, if we just turn our heads and talk to the girls around us, we can give each other a little privacy. I just hope I don’t have to poop while at school. That would be so humiliating, everyone knowing it is me because of the open door.”

“You are so right,” another girl spoke breaking into the conversation.

I felt my face blushing, hearing girls talk about poop and basically bathroom issues was really embarrassing. I never pictured them doing that in a hundred years! When I saw them, they always called the mildest of issues so gross!

“The other girl in front of you is done,” one girl prodded the girl in front of her, probably anxious to relieve her own needs.

I could feel the pressure in my bladder throbbing with stronger signals, and the heat in my panties was getting harder to ignore. There was almost a kind of annoying prick in my privates, that alerted me to the danger of possibly peeing my panties while I waited in line to use the toilet. All around me, I saw something I had never seen before. There were maybe two or three girls, openly dancing around as they waited for those in front of them. Was this what girls were really like when they didn’t know boys were watching, or was it my male perverted mind making these things up?

“Please, wake up,” I pleaded with myself wanting this all to be over with, but the dream just relentlessly trod onward. I was getting to the point of wanting to slap myself silly for dreaming myself into this situation, and worse, the dream seemed to slow down and not want to move on past this.

I soon started to feel myself squirming a little more, and when I looked towards the doors, I saw a pretty girl pull down her panties right in front of me, both of us blushing, and she sat on the toilet, me having seen her hairy front for a few seconds. I looked away in a hurry my face couldn’t be more fiery even if it were melting!

“Robyn saw Jade,” a girl behind called out teasing causing Jade to turn even redder. I wanted to crawl into a tiny hole or something, and then I started to get scared. What if in this dream, I produced a dick instead of girl parts?

That fear had caused me to run abruptly from the girls’ room, everyone looking after me, and I ran all the way down to the office, and stood in front of the counter, waiting to be acknowledged.

Now, my legs were writhing constantly, and I was sure people knew I was doing the pee-pee dance, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t go where I might produce a dick in front of a bunch of girls, and I was scared to go in the boy’s room and not produce one! I was trapped in a very sensitive situation.

“Please,” I called to an office attendant. “Can I talk to someone?”

“What is it, miss?” a woman finally acknowledged me.

“Can I talk to the nurse?” I asked desperately holding myself now, and writhing in place.

“Are you Robyn Berret?” the woman asked.

“Yes. Yes, I’m Robyn,” my voice was cracking from trying to hold it.

“Alright,” the woman said looking sympathetically at me. “This way.”

I went into the nurse’s office, and watching me do the pee-pee dance, she didn’t ask a single stupid question, but rather put her hands on my shoulders and directed me to the toilets in her office.

I pulled down my panties to find out that I was a girl, even under them, and that my panties were a little damp, though I convinced myself that it was sweat and not pee though I wasn’t really sure at that point which it was.

After I had peed in the toilet, my face red as Rudolph’s nose, I came out of the bathroom pulling up my panties, completely forgetting girl etiquette since I had little practice in being a girl. I met the nurse, and she smiled.

“Feeling better now?” she asked me.

“Much better,” I said sighing. However, deep down, I knew the difference of peeing, not because I knew how a girl feels, but that it certainly didn’t come out right. There were missing muscles, and the water sprayed out getting my butt a little damp instead of streamed out of an aim-able devise that I had been born with. It hit me, that none of this was dream. As impossible as it was, it was for real!

I’ll be posting the final drafts on the thread I’ve just started today, and I will be working on rough drafts here. This is a final draft, so if you only want to see the final drafts, you can look at the other one, but if you want to see my work in progress and tell me how to help it along (constructive criticism) then you can look here for the whole thinking process.

1 Like

Re: Transformed Robyn

This is Chapter Two for the newer version, but I wanted feedback before I added it to the final draft thread. I especially look for WBDaddy’s advice since he seems to have taken an interest in my writing over a lot of other people. I respect his opinion.

Chapter Two
I sighed as I thought about everything that had happened at school that day. I was definitely stuck in a girl’s body, and only now, was I realizing that I had to come to terms with it. I had heard that girls had a lot more problems than boys all my life, but at the moment, minus an aim-er, I still didn’t really know what those problems were.

I was once again, in a car, the lady that was supposed to be mom, now driving. I looked over at her, and there were so many questions I wanted to ask her, questions that might make being a girl easier for me, but I knew it might sound strange to her. More important than these questions, was that I had to figure out how I got here in the first place, and how to reverse it if it was possible. I didn’t want to do high school all over again, and I certainly didn’t want to be a confused little girl while I tried to do it.

“How was your first day,” the woman asked me.

“It wasn’t too bad,” I replied. “Mom?”

“Yes honey?”

“Can I ask you something strange?”

The woman looked over at me, and then back out the front of the car. She seemed to think about that for a minute, and finally, after several seconds, she seemed to reluctantly nod her head. “What is it, Robyn?”

“What kind of problems do we girls have that boys don’t?”

“What kind of problems?” and then she laughed. Her relaxation was far more pronounced than I thought it should be, but it felt good to see that she wasn’t staring at me like I was strange.

“Robyn, girls and boys are made differently. You know that already, but the problem is, most of society doesn’t acknowledge it, and it’s really difficult to be natural but accepted in a society that doesn’t understand that difference. They are very good at the lip service in recognizing it, but truthfully, there are a lot of inconveniences that boys take for granted.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure you’ve already noticed some of those differences on your own. It’s not like you are blind or dumb, Robyn. You might be a little slow sometimes, I’m sure you even know how girls are disadvantaged in life.”

I nodded my head though I really didn’t understand.

Mom just smiled and continued to drive. “You are waiting for examples, aren’t you? You want mommy to tell you specifically what I know that we have to do that boys don’t, right?”

I nodded slowly afraid that it might be going too far, but sincerely interested in having an idea of what I was expected to do differently in society.

“Well, do you remember asking me about toileting practices about three or four years ago?” the mother asked.

I shook my head since I never had that talk.

“You don’t remember? About when I explained about the monthly cycles?”

I shook my head again.

She looked put off by my ignorance. But after another few seconds, she whispered.

“Boys don’t have to count the days of a month, sweetie. They don’t worry about what their bodies are doing from moment to moment except when they feel like using the toilet, or when they are thinking about girls, much like we do, but we also have to think about the day of the month. You know?”

I could see she was trying to make me understand, and then I realized what she was saying.

“I already know that difference,” I said. “What I meant, was, what do…,” then I was lost for words. How do you explain that you want her to tell you how you should be viewing the world, that you wanted her to tell you how to talk, what language to use, what dreams were okay, and how girls really expressed those needs in a natural way? I didn’t see any way to do that.

“Never mind,” I finally sighed. “It was a stupid question.”

Mother just shrugged not sure what to say herself, I figured.

When we got home, I walked into the kitchen to look through the fridge for something to drink, when Uncle Jack came into the kitchen from the living room.

“How was your first day of high school?” he asked me.

“It was okay,” I said pulling out the milk.

“What are you doing with that milk?” he asked.

“Getting some?” I questioned now realizing I didn’t even know the rules of this house.

“It’s okay,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just I’m a little surprised.”

“Why?” I asked thinking it looked like the healthiest choice in the fridge. Weren’t girls into being healthy and trying to keep their weight down?

“Well, you normally have a Doctor Pepper, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, well, I guess I just craved some milk today.”

Jack chuckled at that. “Next you know, you’ll start watching those girl flicks,” he teased. “The Tom-boy turns.”

I blushed at his comment. So, was Robyn a tom-boy then? Did that mean I could do the things I liked without getting too much attention and worrying about being discovered until I figured out what had happened to me?

I drank down the milk, put the glass in the sink, and started to run up to the bedroom I had come out of. I wanted to see if there were any hints in there at all. There had to be, because I was left there to wake up. However the people that managed to turn me into a girl and put me in a strange house had done it, they had to have forgotten something that I could trace.

“Robyn,” Uncle Jack called up at me. “Don’t just lock yourself in that room and listen to music. You need to remember to do your homework, young lady!”

“It’s the first day of school, Uncle nosey,” I called back playfully. “They don’t give homework the first day!”

I ran into my room giggling and shut the door, and then realized there was no lock. Well, I guess he could get in and tickle me if he wanted. But he didn’t come up the stairs.

I pulled my skirt off, took off my panties which still had that cooling dampness in them, and then dropped my clothes on the floor by the dresser. I pulled out a pair of pink panties from the top drawer, took off my school top, and then looked for some shorts and a black t-shirt. All that time, no one came in to bother me, so that was a relief. Maybe they had expected it, I don’t know.

The next thing I did, was go back to looking though the mirror. Strangely enough, the room in the mirror looked just like my room in my old house though the reflection was this girl that I had become. I looked through the mirror trying to find any hint of something out of place in that other world, but everything seemed to be the way I remembered leaving things before I went to sleep.

I turned and looked at my new room, and I really couldn’t see anything that would give away how it was I was put here and made into a girl without my knowledge. I was never one to believe in magic. I even doubted that there was a God and believed that science would show us all that was really real, but logically, I couldn’t understand how this would be scientifically possible. There were so many anomalies that would be troublesome for science.

Why was it, that I was seeing my old room, even though I know for sure that this situation is real, and not a dream? If it was a dream, how was it that time was crawling around the right speed, and everything was beyond dreamlike. Every little action I took, I felt a real plausible reaction for. Even the cool coating milk had been felt running down my throat.

I kicked at the spot where I had thought I had seen the clothes from the night before. Someone had picked them up when I was in school, probably the uncle if mom was too busy to take me to school. What is going on?

Then, I felt it, a need to use the bathroom. Wait! Didn’t I just go before lunch at school? It wasn’t even four-thirty yet. Why did I have to go so soon? Normally, if I went at school, I’d be good to go until sometime into the evening. This was not normal at all. I sighed and walked to my door to pull it open, and after glancing in the rooms upstairs, I figured out that the door at the very end of the balcony had to be the bathroom. I pulled on it, but it was locked.

“I’m in here,” the uncle called out.

“Sorry,” I called back. “How long?”

“Well, I’m about to take a shower, honey. I thought you’d already gone to the toilet since you were up here for a while.”

“I forgot until now. Can I please?”

“No, I’m already undressed. You’ll just have to wait until I get out, honey.”

I sighed and went down the steps to wait in the living room. The bedroom was boring at the moment, and there were no other bathrooms in the house. Of course, with only three people, why would there need to be?

“Oh, you’re down from your room,” mom said surprised, but pleasantly so. “Do you want to watch television with me?”

“Yeah,” I nodded crossing my ankles hoping not to draw too much attention to something not so girl like to complain about.

“We’ll have tacos tonight,” mom said as she flipped through the channels until she came to ‘Cops.’

“Tacos?” I asked lighting up. I really did like tacos.

“Yeah, but I have to wait for Uncle Jack to take a shower and go pick up a couple of things for it.”

“I see,” I said smiling. “Mom, do you know what’s popular, and probably on TV right now?”

She shook her head at me. “No, I don’t honey. I’m not a teenager, you know. What’s on?”

“Um…,” I blushed almost scared to bring it up. Was it a boy’s show? Was it immature especially for a girl to watch? Well, I brought it up. “Can I watch Beverly Hills 90210?” I asked her.

“Sure, honey. I should have known you wanted to watch it. You like Brad Pitt, right?”

I nodded, though inside, I said yuck. The reason I liked it was Shannon Doherty.

I was a little relieved that it wasn’t too immature, and that the mother actually thought it was because I liked an actor, and truthfully it was because of that, but she would have freaked if I had corrected her. I think that she was one of those traditional people that would have had a hard time dealing if she had found out her daughter was gay, and then I started to worry.

What if the person that took my place was acting gay? That would totally make going back to my regular life a very difficult and awkward situation. I had to get back there, before she actually forced my male body into a girl’s bathroom and caused a ruckus. Maybe she already did. Damn it! Why did this have to happen to me? The more I thought about it, the more I had to admit that there had to be a counter person, and that meant she was trying to discover how to be a boy. She was probably even stroking my penis and trying to do things she had heard that boys liked to do even though I was very shy.

I saw the show start, and tried to get lost in that story so I could forget my own troubles, but it was no use. Not even Shannon Doherty could make me forget my troubles, that is, not until something had come up in the program that made my mouth drop.

“Bren, I need your help,” the hot blond was saying, though I still liked Shannon better. “My mom will kill me when she finds out about this.”

“Kelly, calm down,” Brenda said played by my idol. “Just listen carefully, a lot of us have gone through this before.”

I couldn’t see clearly, but it looked kind of like the hot blond had peed her pants, though the camera had cut away from that so fast, it was really hard to confirm what I thought I heard. And according to the Brenda character, a lot of girls have gone through that. Does that mean that girls sometimes pee their pants? I hoped not. Besides, how was that possible since I’d never seen any of them wet?

I looked from the television to the mom who smiled and whispered to me.

“She forgot her time of month,” she whispered. “She leaked in her panties and it soaked through her pants since she wasn’t wearing the right thing.”

I could tell that mom was being discreet in case the uncle came out at any moment, but what I understood that to mean, was that girls pee their pants when they have the time of month? And that they wear something, what, diapers, to hide it? I shook my head. So, that’s why they have diapers our size? Girls wear them when they get their monthly cycles. I would never make fun of my sister again when she had her time of month, if I ever got out of this, and I hoped I did before it was Robyn’s turn.

Finally, I heard Uncle Jack walking out of the bathroom, and I waited for another room door to close before I got up from my seat walking towards the steps.

“Robyn, are you still watching this?” mom asked.

“Yeah, but I need to, er… go do something.” Even as a boy I was shy, and I certainly felt uncomfortable talking about toilet needs even if it was just the mom. I wasn’t really Robyn, and if she ever found that out, I was afraid she might be really upset at what I had tricked her into telling me as a boy.

I walked up the steps, feeling the heavy pressure in my abdomen which seemed to affect my walk a little, and caused a little prickle of discomfort in my side. I really did have to pee kind of badly. I walked up the steps, not taking them as fast as I would have as a boy, because somehow, without the extra snake to hold back the pressure, I was scared it would just leak through if I wasn’t careful swaying up the stairs.

I gained the top, and looked back down much like you would have a long hike up a mountain trail, and with the same disappointment you would feel when you looked back and found that the distance covered really seemed much shorter than it should have been. I waddled further down the hall, nearly squatting now, my hand near the front of my pants scared I might start to leak, but resisting in trying to touch for fear that the uncle would come out and get the wrong idea.

I got into the bathroom, closed the door, and made it over to the toilet, but then there was a definite patter of leaks against the middle of my panties just before I yanked the shorts down and sat on the toilet. The pee streamed out so fast, I was glad I had just made it.

I leaned over, and peed hard, pushing it fast so it would end quickly, and to my surprise, it really didn’t take that long to finish. I then looked down at my panties, pulled them up from dry angles to inspect the damage, and noticed that they were damp, but that it didn’t leak through to the shorts, and feeling scared of changing panties for fear that someone would think I’m wetting my pants all the time, I elected to pull my panties up.

Thankfully, the damp area didn’t seem to irritate or bother me too much. I washed my hands, and walked out of the bathroom, and for the second time today, there was something I had forgotten to do, but I still didn’t think of it at the time.

Coming down the steps, I heard the ending music for the show, and I sighed. I missed the end. I was hoping to see how that played out since it looked like the girl must have wet herself, and I really wanted to know if her way of hiding it had really worked.

“Your uncle is going to get some stuff, and he’d like you to go with,” mom said as I entered the living room.

“Sure,” I shrugged walking towards the steps to the dining room and kitchen for the main entrance. “Anything you want me to remind him of?”

“No, he has a list, but you might want to make sure you have anything you need while you are shopping,” and she winked at me. I didn’t know what the wink meant, so I nodded and walked out to the car.

We didn’t really talk at all in the car for the first few minutes, but as I began wondering about things, I looked over at him. “Uncle Jack, what would you do, if you were trapped as a woman suddenly?”

He chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking about what I had asked. He didn’t seem to be angry at all, nor surprised. He just looked like he had never had an answer for that one.

“Well,” he said after several minutes. “I think I would hide in my room for a day to figure things out. I’ve heard that things are quite different for women from men, but having been a man all my life, I have no experience of such differences, so I would need some time to think about how to handle my new situation.”

I nodded. I wished I could have more private time to think things through, but then, no one told me to come down the stairs, so I guess really, just hiding in the room wasn’t the answer for me.

“Then,” he continued. “I might see if women really do have certain powers that seem to be so great in society.”

“Powers?” I asked wondering what he was referring to.

“Well, you should know that if you flirt just right, when it comes to guys that are interested in women, you can sometimes get your own way where as when guys try it, it often just backfires in our faces.”

“Oh?” I said thinking about that one. “But what could you possibly want from a guy that flirting would help you?”

“Well,” he seemed to be thoughtful. “You still don’t drive yet, on your own, but you know, if you are a girl, sometimes male cops are more lenient on you.”

“Isn’t that kind of discrimination?”

“You aren’t going to hear many woman call a police officer on that, and as a man, you’d be afraid of being laughed out of court trying to prove it, so even though you are technically right, it would never be seen as that.”

I pondered what he said for a minute. “Would that work with any law I broke?” I asked.

“I doubt it. The law you break would have to be harmless, and no one would have been hurt by it, then I think it would work. It can also get you a job easier in a nice place, if the employer thinks you are cute, even if you don’t know what you are doing.”

“That seems really wrong.”

“It is, but again, not many are going to push the issue. She had used her talents to get the position gaining every advantage she could to achieve the win. Men would be considered poor losers if they brought it up.”

I thought about what he was saying. Was it really an advantage to be a woman?

“So, you would actually like being a woman?”

He shook his head decisively no.

“There are a lot of disadvantages that we don’t like to talk about with being a woman, some way too hard for me to deal with.”

“Like?”

“Um… those kind of things are best discussed with mommy,” he said blushing. We’re here."

He brought me back to the idea that we were at the store to stop me asking anymore questions. I could tell, because he got out of the car rather quickly. I followed.

1 Like

Re: Transformed Robyn

Robyn- Rewrite: I think this is a much better story now

This is the new thread, where I’ve actually got this story going well. I am going to focus on that thread now that I’m able to see where this story is going. Thank you WBDaddy.

As a male human, I can answer Robbins question. Yes squeezing our penises does help but when you gotta go you gotta go, so even when you’re a guy if you have to go to badly to the point where you’re about to P your self then it’s gonna come out unless you truly grab it and squeeze it tight but then the bladder could burst.