Pansy Pillowhumper
Anson is a young man that finds himself in an all girls school.... he will be their sissy plaything named "Nancy"!
All the characters are of legal age (18+)
Anson minced into the classroom, his gaze on the floor and his mind on
his schedule. He took a seat, crossed his legs, shook back his long hair
and sighed. Anson knew that he had to work hard this semester.
Otherwise, he would flunk out completely. Anson wasn't too bright and
the class was possibly beyond his capabilities. Maybe the professor
would take pity on him and let him squeak by with a D? Suddenly Anson
heard a girlish giggle and his mind snapped back to the present. Most of
the desks were occupied and, to his surprise, every student except him
was female. He looked around, and all he saw were pretty coeds in all
shapes and sizes, every one of them eyeing him with amused curiosity.
Sometimes he got that sort of reaction because he wasn't very masculine.
In fact, he wasn't at all manly, with his slender figure, smooth oval
face and beautiful long hair. Anson didn't have any muscles on his thin,
pale and almost hairless body and his lisping, pathetic and whiny voice
matched his appearance perfectly. He carried himself like a total sissy.
Even Anson's glasses, with their delicate frames, did nothing to
discourage that impression. Anson had accidentally picked out his
glasses from the women's section and the salesgirls at the optician's
had quite a laugh at his expense later on.
One of the other students, who had a short elegant hairstyle and a face
so naturally pretty that she used only a hint of make-up, grinned
impishly and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Looks like we are
all girls in this class!" She turned around, smirked at Anson and began
laughing with every other girl in the class. The girls' laughter seemed
to fill the whole room. Anson sighed and lowered his eyes, pretending to
find interest in his shoelaces, feeling more pathetic than usual. He was
definitely going to fail this semester. Anson could already see the red
grade marked next to his name. "Hey, someone is blushing!" the girl
called out, causing everyone to burst out in even greater peals of
laughter. Anson tried to say something but his throat was too tight for
words and he ended up squeaking, which only made the girls laugh more.
Anson wanted to disappear. His face was red with shame and he stared
down at his feet, trying to ignore the laughter of the girls. Anson
glanced up and noticed the girl with the elegant hairstyle looking at
him. She was obviously the most popular girl in the class. The other
girls looked at her and nodded approvingly. They were ready for anything
she had in mind. Anson could feel the excitement in the air. They were
about to have some fun. At Anson's expense.
"Hey, girl. Come here," the pretty girl said and tapped her desk,
indicating that Anson should take a seat. Anson slowly stood up,
shuffled towards the girl and sat down on the edge of a seat. He didn't
feel very comfortable. Not one bit. The other students looked at him
curiously, as if they were waiting for a show. "So, what's your name?"
the girl asked.
"I'm Anson."
"You're Nancy? What a cute name."
"N... no," Anson tried to correct her. "My name is..."
"No, silly. You are Nancy and I am Olivia. Nice to meet you." She
giggled. "Okay, girls," Olivia said, "This is Nancy. We have a new
classmate." She turned to face Anson. "Welcome to the school, Nancy. Do
you need someone to show you around? I'd be glad to help. Maybe after
the class I could show you our locker rooms, if you need a place to put
your make-up kit," she snickered. "Uh, uh... yeah, thank you," Anson
mumbled, lowering his gaze. He was very nervous and his voice was very
high-pitched. The other girls laughed at Anson's awkwardness. "You are
welcome, Nancy," Olivia smiled.
Anson began to sweat. He wanted to get up, but he just sat there, unable
to move. He was frozen with embarrassment. Olivia touched his shoulder.
"You're so funny, Nancy. We are going to have lots of fun together!"
Anson swallowed with difficulty. She was so sexy that his penis
twitched. Fortunately, no one could see that. Anson's dick was a
shriveled-up nub, and his hairless balls were tiny as well. He could not
imagine how a girl as lovely as Olivia could ever be attracted to a weak
and pathetic thing like him. Anson, on the other hand, was immediately
attracted to Olivia like a moth to a flame. She was so stunning that
Anson was having difficulty thinking clearly. Olivia said, "You may take
your seat." Anson stood up and moved towards his seat.
The professor walked into the room, holding her black leather briefcase,
and said, "Hello, everyone. My name is Mrs. Stern." She was a middle-
aged woman with an imposing presence. She looked strict and serious and
her clothes were impeccable. Her outfit consisted of a dark gray blazer,
a matching skirt, and a crisp white blouse. She wore stockings and
stiletto heels. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her eyes
were hidden behind stylish glasses. Anson found her to be intimidating.
Mrs. Stern continued, "Let's get to know one another. As I point to each
of you, please tell me your first name."
That went well until her finger was aimed at Anson. As he opened his
mouth to speak, Olivia said, "Nancy!"
"Nancy?" asked the professor in disbelief. The rest of the students were
laughing, out of both shock and amusement. Anson did not respond. He was
too embarrassed to speak. His face had turned from pink to crimson. He
was now really wishing he was somewhere else. The professor had a smirk
on her face, which seemed to mock him, and said, "Well, then, Nancy.
Welcome."
Anson mumbled, "My name is Anson."
"Sorry, what did you say? I couldn't quite hear you."
"My name is Anson," he said again, with a slight but noticeable lisp. He
swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to sound as masculine as
possible, but his voice still came out like a little girl's.
"Anson?" asked the professor, feigning shock. "It says here on the
roster that your first name is..." She stopped as Olivia interrupted
her. "It's Nancy. Everyone calls her Nancy, right girls? Isn't that a
pretty name for a pretty girl?"
The professor shrugged and said, "Okay, if that's the way you want it."
She wrote something to her papers and continued, pointing at the girl
sitting next to Anson. "Your name is?" she asked the girl sitting next
to Anson.
"Larissa," answered the girl.
Anson couldn't believe his luck. He listened in silence as the other
girls told the professor their names. Anson didn't want to be called
Nancy. Finally, he summoned all his courage and raised his hand. "Uh, I
would like to, uh..." he paused. The professor looked at him with raised
eyebrows. Anson swallowed and began again. "I'm not... uh... my name
is... I mean, I'm not called... Nancy," he said in a small voice, "I
would... uh... prefer to be called Anson."
The professor sighed and said, "You would prefer to be called Anson
instead of Nancy? Are you sure? Everyone else seems to believe, that you
are in fact Nancy. Isn't that right, girls?"
"Yes!" they chorused, with big smiles.
"But," Anson squeaked, feeling embarrassed. "Well, I, uh... I don't... I
mean, I'm not..."
"He doesn't know how to spell his name," explained Olivia. The girls
burst out laughing again. Anson had never been in this situation before.
He had always been shy and quiet. Now he was in this room with a class
full of beautiful girls, each of whom had him completely terrified. He
couldn't concentrate on what they were saying and his mind filled up
with despair. He couldn't think. The teacher's voice had an
authoritative ring and it droned on and on, while his head grew foggy
and the room spun. He struggled to concentrate, to follow the
conversation, but his efforts were in vain. His head swam. When he came
to his senses, he was being called. He tried to answer but only a squeak
came out. Anson opened and closed his mouth, feeling stupid.
"Are you feeling okay, Nancy?" the teacher asked, concern etching her
face.
The other girls had also noticed his distress and were staring at him
with sympathy and amusement.
"I... I... feel..." he began.
"Speak up!" the teacher insisted.
"I... I..."
"Nancy is feeling queasy," Olivia announced.
Anson moaned softly.
"Would you like to see the school nurse?" the teacher asked.
"No," Anson mumbled, mortified.
He felt awful and wanted to go home and crawl into bed and hide for the
rest of the semester.
"Well, you look like you might faint at any moment," the teacher said.
Olivia stood up. "Can I help her to the nurse's office, Mrs. Stern?" she
asked.
"That would be helpful, Olivia."
Anson stared at the teacher, then looked at Olivia, and finally back at
the teacher.
"Come, Nancy," Olivia said, taking hold of his hand and pulling him to
his feet.
The whole class applauded as they made their way to the door. Anson felt
like he was going to faint, and his legs were shaking as he walked. He
couldn't believe this was really happening to him. Olivia's hand felt
warm and comforting as he followed her down the hall. "How are you
feeling?" Olivia asked as she led him down the hallway.
"Horrible," Anson mumbled, his gaze on his feet.
"Really?" Olivia sounded amused.
Anson looked up at her and saw that she was still grinning.
"I'm so glad we are together this semester," Olivia said. "I can help
you get over your shyness, Nancy. You will be a confident little girl
soon enough."
"I'm not a girl."
Olivia glanced at Anson. "Yes, Nancy, you are a girl."
"My name is Anson."
"Of course it is," she said, her smile broadening.
They walked on, Olivia glancing at him from time to time. "You know, we
really should dress you up as a girl, Nancy. It would be more
appropriate."
"Please don't," he mumbled.
She chuckled and led him down the hallway, past a large window that
looked into a courtyard. "I like your hair, by the way. I'm going to
take care of it, make it beautiful, and put it up in braids and ribbons.
That will look pretty."
"Don't do that!" Anson pleaded.
"Oh, yes, I will," she said sweetly. "And you will like it, I promise."
"Please..." Anson began, but he could not finish his sentence. He was
too frightened and overwhelmed. Olivia stopped, turned around, and took
hold of Anson's chin. "Look at me," she said. He did as she told him.
"You will wear something more appropriate," she insisted, her eyes hard.
"I'll see to it personally." She paused, her face softening. "Now, let's
go to the nurse's office and then we'll head back to class. I hope you
feel better by then, Nancy."
"It's Anson."
"Don't worry, Nancy. Your hair looks beautiful as it is. And I will make
it look even better. I can tell already."
She kept on saying things like that as they walked down the hall and
Anson couldn't help but blush. They reached the nurse's office and
Olivia knocked on the door. A nurse opened it and welcomed them inside.
She was a plump, middle-aged woman who looked at them curiously. "What
is it, girls?"
Anson blushed and stood there speechless. It wasn't the first time when
he was mistaken for a girl.
"Nancy is feeling sick," Olivia said, pointing at Anson. The nurse eyed
Anson up and down and smiled. "What's the problem, dear?"
Olivia giggled. "She isn't very good at talking. And she is very
fragile. Can you take a look at her head, just to make sure there is
nothing wrong? I mean, something else than his brain being too small, of
course." Olivia giggled. "If he does have a brain in there."
"Hey!" protested Anson, "I have a brain! And it's not small!"
The nurse looked at him, and said, "Are you feeling better, dear?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Anson. "I mean, no, ma'am. I mean..." he stammered,
confused. He stopped and sighed. The nurse smiled, patted Anson's arm,
and then looked at Olivia.
"Of course, dear," the nurse replied. She came over and gently stroked
Anson's hair. She touched his forehead. "You don't feel feverish." Then
she checked his pulse and looked into his eyes. She put her palm on his
stomach and asked, "Does this hurt?"
Anson shook his head. "No, ma'am."
"Any nausea or discomfort in your throat?"
"No, ma'am."
"Are you sure you are feeling okay, Nancy? You look a little pale."
Anson looked down at his feet, ashamed. "Yes, ma'am."
"Hmm. It's hard to tell. Has your friend been teasing you?" She smiled
at Olivia.
"No," Olivia replied. "She's not good with words."
"Oh, that's right, I'd forgotten," said the nurse. "But, you are a good
girl, aren't you?"
"No, I am not," Anson protested.
The nurse looked at Olivia. "Does she talk like that often?"
"No, only when she gets too excited."
"Maybe she just needs a little medicine to settle down," suggested the
nurse.
"I think that would help," agreed Olivia. "Can you get some for him?"
"Sure," she replied, turning around and heading towards the cabinet in
the corner. Anson thought for a moment about getting up and going away,
but he was too shy to do anything. The nurse returned, holding a
spoonful of clear liquid. "Here, Nancy," she said, holding out the
spoon. "Take this and then lie down for a little bit. You will feel
better in no time."
"No, I don't want any!" he said, his voice rising.
"Nancy, don't be like a little child," admonished Olivia.
Anson's head began to swim again. The room spun and the nurse's voice
sounded distant. He tried to protest but Olivia grabbed his hand and
pushed the spoon into Anson's mouth. He gagged as the bitter-tasting
liquid went down his throat. "You have to learn how to swallow properly,
Nancy. If you can't even manage that, how can you expect to get a date?"
Olivia joked. The nurse giggled. Anson swallowed, the liquid going down
his throat with difficulty. "There, that didn't hurt at all, did it?
Now, lie down," said the nurse. "I'm sure you will feel better after a
short rest."
Anson could not get up, nor could he say anything. His mouth was dry.
The nurse came over, patted Anson on the head, and said, "You look a
little dizzy. Maybe you should rest for a little bit. Just lie down and
relax." Olivia held Anson's face between her hands and then she gently
caressed his cheek, letting her hand slide down and across his chest and
belly. Anson let her do it. When she took her hand away, she stroked his
arm.
"Do you feel better?" Olivia asked. Anson nodded.
The nurse smiled at him. "You are a sweet thing. I hope you feel better
soon." Anson nodded again. Olivia patted him on the head. The nurse
walked to her desk, where there was a computer screen. "What was your
name again?", she asked.
"Anson," he mumbled.
"I didn't quite catch that."
Olivia giggled. "She's not very good with words. Her name is Nancy."
"I can't find anything on Nancy, dear," she said.
"Oh, that's her nickname," said Olivia. "She is registered under her
real name, Anson. But everyone calls her Nancy and she wants to change
her name officially." Olivia paused for effect, looking at Anson with
her big eyes. "She is a girl, and it is very inappropriate to call a
girl by a boy's name. We are going to change it officially. From now on
she will be known as Nancy. Won't you Nancy?" She grinned at him.
Anson looked from Olivia to the nurse and then back again. "But..." he
protested weakly. He felt his face turning red and he struggled to think
clearly. The medicine was making him feel very fuzzy-headed.
"She certainly looks like a girl to me," said the nurse. "And she sounds
like a girl, too. I've never met a boy with a voice like that. And she
has long hair. Boys don't have long hair, do they?"
The nurse continued, "I can understand why she would prefer to be called
Nancy. You have to visit the principal's office to get the name changed.
You can just go to the office right away. She will take care of
everything."
"Is that ok, Nancy?" Olivia asked. "We can go see her right now."
"No," Anson replied. "I want to go back to class."
"But Nancy, we need to do it now."
Anson's heart began to race. "Don't call me that. My name is Anson!"
"All right, Nancy. Whatever." She glanced at the nurse. "Come on, we
have to go to the office."
"Please," Anson pleaded. He was becoming increasingly frustrated.
"Stop being such a baby. You are just a little girl. And, anyway, I
thought you liked that name."
Anson tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I hate it," he said
quietly.
"Well, that's a shame," said Olivia. "You have to deal with it. Let's go
see the principal, Nancy."
"My name is..."
"Yes, you keep saying that, but you know that isn't true," she said,
smiling sweetly. "Come on. Let's go." They left the nurse's office.
Anson couldn't believe what was happening. It felt like he had lost
control. He had always been weak and helpless. Now this girl was
treating him like a baby. He had never met someone so forceful and
domineering before. She was very pretty and she had an innocent
appearance, but there was something evil about her. Anson couldn't put
his finger on what it was, but she was definitely evil. He felt like she
was going to make him do things he did not want to do, and there was
nothing he could do about it. It was as if Olivia was a force of nature
and Anson was helpless against her. He tried to talk, to say anything,
but nothing came out. He was frozen with fear. Olivia walked him down
the hallway to the principal's office. Anson was lost in thought,
feeling numb and confused. It felt like he had left his body behind and
was just observing events happening to another person. His legs were
trembling and his mind was racing.
When they reached the office, the principal looked up at them and
smiled. The principal was a very good-looking woman, in her late
thirties, and she was always wearing stylish outfits that highlighted
her sexy figure. She wore her long dark hair tied up in a bun. She had a
pleasant face, but it was always stern and serious. Anson found her very
intimidating. She wore red lipstick, which always made Anson feel
nervous and uncomfortable.
"Hello," she said, looking at Olivia and then at Anson. "What brings you
here?"
Olivia giggled. "We are going to change her name."
The principal nodded and motioned for them to sit down. "Yes, the nurse
did mention it." The principal was looking at Anson with an expression
of concern. "How are you feeling, Nancy?"
Anson opened his mouth to reply but Olivia said, "Nancy doesn't talk
much."
"Is that right?" asked the principal.
"Yes," agreed Olivia. "She is shy. And delicate."
"Yes, I can see that," said the principal, eyeing Olivia. She turned her
gaze to Anson and continued. "So you want to change your name, Nancy?"
"No," Anson squeaked. He wanted to be called Anson, not Nancy, and he
would fight them all the way to hell and back.
"Oh, I don't think so, Nancy," said Olivia.
"But my name..."
"No, your name is Nancy."
"But..."
"Nancy," Olivia said sternly, looking her in the eyes. "Say it."
Anson could feel a lump growing in his throat.
"Say it," insisted Olivia. "Or I will tell the principal you are being
uncooperative and I'm worried you might be mentally deficient."
Anson couldn't think of anything else to say. He opened his mouth but
only a squeak came out. He looked over at the principal, hoping for some
help. Olivia nudged him with her foot. "Go on, Nancy," she urged.
Anson opened his mouth again, and then finally managed to utter the
word. "Nancy."
"Again," Olivia said, tapping Anson's knee. "My name is Nancy."
"My name is Nancy," he repeated. The principal's face softened.
"Yes, Nancy," she said. "I'm glad you've come to terms with yourself,
now that we got that settled. Now let me see if I can find the
paperwork." She searched through the files on her desk. Anson looked up
at Olivia, who was grinning. Anson could see in her eyes that she was
very pleased with herself.
The principal found what she was looking for and handed the documents to
Olivia. "Here you go, Nancy," said Olivia. She passed them over to
Anson, who quickly scanned them and then signed the document. The
principal took it back and made the final adjustments to it. She smiled
at the two of them. "Very good, Nancy."
The principal said, "I can understand why you want to be known as a
girl, Nancy, but I still can't figure out why you thought you were a boy
to begin with. You could never become a man, not in a million years,
even if you tried. I think that you have an identity crisis. You seem to
be very confused about your gender. That is probably because you haven't
learned to express your femininity yet." She paused and smiled at
Olivia. "I'm glad Olivia has decided to help you, Nancy. You have a lot
to learn if you are going to become a proper girl."
"Yes," said Olivia, patting Anson's hand.
"I would like you to see a therapist once a week so we can address your
gender issues," said the principal. "Do you have any questions?"
"I don't want to see a therapist," said Anson.
The principal frowned. "Yes, you will. She's a very good therapist and
she will help you become a girl. I think it would be a good idea if you
started seeing her on Thursday, during your free period. I'll write you
a pass so that you can visit her office. The therapist's name is Dr.
Chant."
Anson didn't say anything. He just stared at the principal, not knowing
what to do. He was overwhelmed and his head felt foggy.
The principal continued, "The students of our school don't wear uniforms
but we do have a dress code, which I would like you to follow. You
cannot wear jeans or T-shirts like the boys. I'm glad to see that you
already wear girls' glasses, which is a good start. And your hair is
beautiful! You need to keep it long. Your body and face are soft and
feminine. That's very good. You already walk like a girl and your voice
is soft. That is important. Your clothes are kind of unisex, but that
won't do. Now we have to get you used to wearing skirts and dresses, as
well as a bra and panties."
Anson blushed. His heart started racing again.
Anson opened his mouth to speak, but Olivia spoke first, addressing the
principal. "I'll make sure that she won't be wearing any boys' clothes
anymore. I will teach her everything that she needs to know. And I'll
make sure she feels at home as a girl. I can be her tutor."
The principal smiled. "That would be wonderful. Thank you for offering
to help, Olivia." Olivia patted Anson on the head. She smiled at Olivia
and then at Anson. "Have a great semester, Nancy." She winked at Anson.
Olivia thanked the principal and they stood up to leave. They walked out
of the office. Olivia walked up behind Anson and hugged him, whispering
in his ear, "You have no choice, Nancy. You have to do what you're
told."
The principal had taken care of everything and now it was official. He
was now Nancy, not Anson. His name had changed. He was going to have to
change his appearance. He was going to have to wear girl's clothes and
wear make-up. He felt like a puppet on a string, dancing to the tune of
Olivia's desires.
As they walked down the hallway, Olivia said, "Let's go to my locker. We
need to get you a new backpack." She was leading him by the hand, as if
he were a little child. They got to her locker, where she got a bag and
gave it to Anson. "You need to use this to carry your books. You can't
go around with a boy's backpack. And we will need to buy you some girl's
shoes. Can you walk in heels?"
"No," Anson squeaked. "I mean, uh... I haven't tried."
"Don't worry. We'll find you some pretty shoes, then. You'll see."
"But I..."
"I'll teach you how to wear heels and how to walk. Then we can find you
some shoes that work. We need to find you some cute clothes and get your
make-up right. You need to be pretty, like me." She giggled. Anson
didn't know what to say. He was shocked. He felt like his whole life had
changed. He was not a boy anymore. He was not the same person he had
been before. He was Nancy. A girl. The idea seemed impossible and he
still couldn't believe it. Olivia began to put his books in the new
backpack. The new backpack was pink, with a logo on it. It said 'Girl
Power'.
Olivia giggled. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing his expression. "Do
you think it's not girly enough for you? We can add some cute stickers
to make it look more girly. I can help you with that."
"No, it's fine," he muttered.
"Good. I'll make it even prettier, so it fits your personality. It's
time for class, Nancy." Anson nodded. We are going to have lots of fun,
Nancy, you and I."
"My name is..." Anson tried to speak, but Olivia put her finger to his
lips.
"No, Nancy," she said sweetly. "We've been over this already. Your name
is Nancy. Say it. Say it like a good girl."
Anson swallowed. He felt his eyes welling up with tears. It was
humiliating to be treated like a child and a girl. But he knew that she
was right. He could not keep calling himself Anson and it would be even
worse for him if he tried to say that he was a boy. Anson knew that he
had to go along with the changes in his name. It was the only way.
"Nancy," he mumbled.
"Say it again," Olivia insisted. "Like you mean it."
"Nancy," Anson said, more forcefully.
"Good girl," said Olivia. "That's what I wanted to hear." She giggled
and touched his shoulder. "I'm going to take such good care of you."
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