"Now, Roger, Tara, don't shout at me when I say this. I've just hacked into the school records and replaced your old identity with Tara. I can get back into it quickly if I need to, but we need to buy a bit of time."
"You what? What's this "we" business anyway? You've got to sort this one?" I started to cry at him. I really must have been succumbing to the female hormones.
"Please, Tara, calm down. If you're found like this you might get thrown out and we may never even be able to meet," Mark reasoned. "This way at least Roger won't be missed until we can get on top of all this."
Put like that I had to resign myself to it.
"Now," he continued, "registration for new girls is in ten minutes in the main hall. You need to get down there and get all your stuff so you can at least live while I sort this out. Believe me. I will be working my rear off on this."
As he spoke, I couldn't help but admire the way his biceps curved against his soft T-shirt. I quickly wiped that thought from my mind.
"Too right you will, Mark. You have no idea what this is like."
"Get a move on then, and make sure you come back here afterwards."
I was still far from sure about this, but what other option did I have?
"Here, you can take my sneakers. They'll be a bit big but right now they'll have to do. I have small feet anyway."
Shoving my feet into them I headed out of Mark's room and into the hallway. I was so despondent. I couldn't believe this had happened to me, but I felt so good. My erect nipples still stretched against the fabric of Mark's top and the thought I was wearing another guy's clothes in this body just seemed to flick a switch in my head.
As I made my way down the stairs two seniors passed me going the other way. As I passed I blushed at what I heard. Behind me the one said to the other "Check out that piece. She seems a bit of a tomboy, but check her ass!". How could I carry this off?
At the bottom of the stairs I heard the senior mistress talking above a babble and made my way into the hall. There were three rows of girls all chatting amongst themselves. They were clearly excited. What was I letting myself in for. Before I could think what to do next, a voice barked at me. "You must be Tara Deane," she boomed. "Get a move on. You're the last one we're waiting for. Go straight to the front table."
"Yes, ma'am," I muttered to her. Approaching the table I could see mountains of clothing and equipment. Behind it was sat a kindly looking old lady, with glasses perched on the end of her nose.
"Now come along dear. Look at the state of you. Anyone would think you'd stolen your brother's clothes dressed like that. What's your name?"
I panicked. I didn't have a surname. Then I remembered what the officious lady at the door had said. "Tara Deane, ma'am," I replied. How could I possibly pull this off? I began to worry at how I was going to conduct myself as a girl. I knew nothing about what I had to do.
"Right then, let's see," she said as she turned behind her. "What have we got for you?"