A T-Girl and a Tomboy Pt. 01

"What? I'll do anything." I desperately just want out of the situation.

"Alright..." Sandy smirks. "Agree to be the Mascot. You have time, why not? You might as well be part of the squad. We'll need to train you so you can do it for the Spring Festival. You can come to the field after school for practice, just show up in the mascot costume. I can guarantee that no one on the squad will tell. If the league finds out we could be disqualified."

"He's enrolled in our school, it would probably be legal. He could be Kayla's replacement," Tonya says, barely awake.

"So, he could officially join? Alex, do you want to be a cheerleader?" Sandy asks.

"W-what, really?" I stutter. "I could join the squad?"

I laugh. I can't take it seriously.

Sandy says, "Yeah, you could. We'll just have to present a vote to the rest of the squad before anything is official, but first we need to check you out and see how it goes. Will you rush the squad?"

All of the girls nod encouragingly.

"Um... yes?" It comes out as a question.

"Alrighty then!" Sandy is triumphant. "If we can pull this off we'll still get enough points to make up for losing Tonya. Let's go to the garage and get you suited up!"

I stop looking for an escape. Am I really going to be able to train with the cheerleaders? Tonya and Sandy are some of the squad's top officers...

Tonya is snoozing on the lounge chair as Sandy directs me down the path to the backdoor of the garage. The girls all know their way around our house, yet they insist on closely following me. I hear whispers and giggles and I can feel their eyes on me the whole way.

***

Don't Go!

It has been years since anyone parked a car in our four-bay garage. Most of it is dedicated to an indoor-gym large enough for dance, gymnastics or squad practice. It's often used for training, especially in bad weather. One the stalls is full of neatly organized equipment, stacked coolers, towels, pop tents... another stall has tables with boxes full of new uniforms, t-shirts, bumper stickers... the mascot costume is in a shipping box on the floor.

"So, you really think you want to be a girl?" Sandy teases.

"I know I really like your clothes," I say.

Sandy looks herself over in the mirror. "Yeah, these uniforms are nice, aren't they? Most guys' clothes are pretty boring, but there's more to it for you than just the clothes, isn't there? Don't try to fool yourself, you aren't fooling me. Here, put this on."

She pulls the 'Fearless Girl' mascot costume out of the box. It's a bit cartoonish but it is modern and high quality. The body seems to be made of some sort of foam rubber.

Thanks to Mom's efforts, the official school mascot had been changed to the 'Fearless Girl' -- like the statue facing the Wall Street Bull. The school had been converted to a private, girls high-school in the mid-sixties and has a reputation of having a lesbian student body. While it's true for a significant portion of the students, it hadn't started out that way. It started with a founding endowment after World War II, to encourage higher education for female factory workers who were displaced by returning war veterans at a time when girls were excluded from many specialty schools. The original mascot was 'Rosie the Riveter,' who had long been a sort of patron saint for some people in the LGBTQIA community. The squad still sells 'Rosie the Riveter' hats, shirts and stickers, but the new official 'Fearless Girl' swag are all big sellers too. The school already has funding for sports programs, this is icing on the cake. Mom can order anything for any of the teams with the full support of the accounting department.

"Your Mom ordered this new mascot last year but no one has worn it for an event so far. Everyone whose tried it on says it's 'too hot' and 'uncomfortable'," Sandy says, adding a curious emphasis.

She gathers up the costume and presents it to me. It looks like a female super-hero version of the precocious girl from the famous statue.

The mascot costume is a foam rubber bodysuit. Smooth inside, it's a full-body jumpsuit with a detachable head and a back zipper—a super-girl muscle suit. What could be uncomfortable about that? There are accessories in the box for different sports; skirts, jerseys, a helmet, shorts, goggles, hats, wigs, a cape, a letterman jacket...

"Come on wannabe, let's get you suited up," Sandy says, impatiently.

This is not what I pictured when I thought about joining the squad. I don't know if I want to be the 'Fearless Girl', and besides, I don't feel qualified.

"Wait! No. I can't do this!" I protest.

"Don't worry, no one but the squad will know it's you. You can get in costume before practice and before competitions. Come on, if you do this the whole squad will be grateful, don't let us down," says Sandy. She grins and starts poking at me, pacing around as I struggle with the situation.

"Are you afraid to be a girl in public? Afraid that everyone will laugh at you? You shouldn't worry—I like what I'm seeing, besides, it's fair turn-around. Girls get critiqued, ogled and whistled at all the time. For a cheerleader, it's part of the show. People are supposed to be looking at you. Sometimes though, when eyes are only staring at your tits or at your crotch, it can be degrading." Sandy shivers slightly, then collects herself. "But, if those eyes are the right eyes..."

She doesn't touch me, but she gets close enough that I can feel her breath in my eyelashes. Her gaze is titillating yet she seems unpredictable, almost malicious.

"...if the situation is right and the company is good it can be a lot of fun. And sometimes..." she pulls away and strikes a pose like an erotic dancer, contorting her body in sultry intensity with each word, "...in very special crowds, things can get, just a little bit..."

The other girls cheer, "Erotic! Psychotic! Yeah, she's Neurotic!" It's their special cheer for Sandy.

Sandy deflates. "Am I really so neurotic?" she asks Cheryl.

Cheryl says nothing. Her cheeks burn as she walks away, muttering to herself. She goes to check out the pile of costume accessories.

Raven shakes her head of braids. "We love you, Sandy, no matter how fucked up you are. I'm going to go put some music on in the yard," she says as she slips out the back door.

Sandy is triggered. She hunches her shoulders and clenches her fists. She turns to me, seething.

"Hey wannabe, how do you feel? You feel vulnerable?"

She walks up face to face, trying to stare me down. I look to Jena and read concern on her face—concern for both me and for Sandy.

"What if someone with dirty hands and disgusting finger nails wants to touch you...or give you an unwelcome, fondling hug?" Sandy grabs my nipple and pretends to reach for my crotch.

I stumble back a few steps. "What?" I ask, completely confused and defensive.

"Do you still want to be a girl then? Look at you. That polo suit is so tight you look like a girl. If you stand right I can barely tell...Ha!"

"Chill out, Sandy. This isn't a hazing," says Jena. She gives Sandy a stern look.

Sandy checks herself. She shakes her head and takes a breath.

She says, "Well, wannabe, you're athletic but you aren't all ripped and hard like a guy. You're not totally femme but you aren't manly at all... Hmm, you're actually really cute, boy, girl, whatever... You look like you're Tonya's tomboy twin-sister."

Sandy's attitude calms as she looks me over in a new light. I get the feeling Sandy is attracted to Tonya.

A moment later Sandy's attention fixes on my growing package, barely contained in my swimsuit. Her attention and words are having an effect on my body.

"Oh, there he is! I was wondering if you were going to do that," Sandy is talking to my cock now, watching it grow. I want to disappear.

"Is that for me, or is it just happening because I called you femme? Are you even attracted to girls?"

Sandy moves her body through a series of seductive poses.

A hot cheerleader is giving me a private touchless lap-dance, her skirt is bouncing around her hips and her cute little butt. She kneels in front of me with her knees to the sides, and hikes up her skirt until I can see the snaps in the crotch of her bodysuit again. She unfolds herself and does a slow, backward walkover, giving me a closeup view of her toned body. I hold my breath, completely hard now.

Jena swoops between us and picks up the costume.

"Hey Alex, let's get you in the super-suit!"

Jena hastily gathers it up and holds the back zipper open, the head flopping loosely forward onto the chest. The inside has an odor I know from growing up in my family—the smell of athletic girls.

Cheryl holds an arm and a leg while Jena holds the back open for me to step in. I put a foot in but the leg opening seems too small. I have to point my toes and pull on the rubber leg until my foot pops out of the ankle. I do the same with the other foot, and pull the lower part of the costume up into place.

"Wiggle around a bit, get it all lined up straight," Jena says, tugging at the belt line, pulling it up over my thighs. It feels like it is becoming part of me, forming into place over my body.

"That's memory foam inside, it makes a perfect fit, huh?" says Jena, her eyes sparkling.

I discover an internal harness and a wide waist band. I check myself out in the dance mirrors. With the costume up around my waist, my legs look voluptuous and strong. I have a perfect little super-girl bubble-butt and a smooth rounded mound in front.

I laugh! I can't help it.

"Hey, we're not done with you," says Sandy.

They hold the sleeves open so I can pop my hands through like I did with my feet. Now fully encased, the super-suit is all around my shoulders, ribs and chest. The head still hangs in front and the back is still open.

Jena reaches inside the costume and pulls out two suspender straps. "These go over your shoulders, they're loose now but we tighten them, they make the costume move with your body instead of just hanging on your shoulders and bouncing around you."

"Make it tight or it will look ridiculous," Sandy orders, stepping up to work at the harness.

From behind me come the sounds of a wide canvas strap being pulled through a metal buckle. Vwuup! I let out an, "Ugh!" as the harness pulls tight over my left shoulder, and firmly between my legs.

Vwuup! "Oof!" I almost swallow my tongue when they cinch the right side.

With the harness cinched, the mascot's breasts are planted on my chest and my body is transformed. The shoulders are heavily padded -- enough for someone to stand on them. I have enough padding to take on a bull!

They finish closing me in by tightening the wide waist-strap around my middle and pulling the back zipper up. My entire body is snug and tight.

At first I try to avoid any mirrors, I can't imagine finding a shred of dignity in my reflection. Having my head and face sticking out of the body of the 'Fearless Girl' is a discomforting thought.

"Aw, wassamatter?" Sandy mocks. "Don't tell me you don't like that. You've been trying to look like a girl all day."

She gives me a loud smack on the ass, but all I can feel is a muffled, rubbery thump.

Jena flips the costume's head up, then opens the neck to help me put it on. It's like a soft-shelled helmet designed for martial-arts sparing. I'm sure it provides a level of protection from head injuries. The helmet feels impossibly tight as I push my face in, and —my ears are throbbing and my nose is smashed before I manage to squeeze my head through.

As the mask settles into place it becomes quite comfortable. Since it's covered with mesh, I can see well—like wearing ski goggles.

Someone pulls and tugs at the back of my neck and, Vwuup! The costume head is fixed into place and the back zipper is closed. I am completely contained, like I'm a 'Ghost in the Machine' or 'Alita, Battle Angel.'

"Have a look at yourself now, Fearless," says Sandy.

She brings me to a spot where I can see all sides of myself in the mirrors.

Oh, hello. The mascot is beautiful. The Fearless Girl's sculptor said, "I made sure to keep her features soft; she's not defiant, she's brave, proud, and strong, not belligerent."

What I see is a cartoonish Fearless Girl superhero in a black bodysuit under a red jersey with a short black cape. It is both flattering and ridiculous at the same time. She looks like fun, like she can run, jump and laugh all day. I study her for a minute and decided she is oddly alluring, and not just for my own special reasons. She is designed so people will want to watch her, kids and adults, male and female alike.

I move about, feeling the weight of the super-suit. Crouching like a wrestler, I jump toward the mirror. Holy shit! I have boobs! They're like melon halves in a sports bra, and just like the rest of the costume, they move and feel like they are part of me.

The arms and shoulders give me superhero muscles, while the corset-like waist accentuates my hips and ensures a firm belly, and the ass and legs look voluptuous and strong.

Sandy sets out the black, knee-high boots for me to step into, then holds out the gloves for my hands. The wrists and ankles close with Velcro, and the transformation is complete. I am the Fearless Girl, iconic strong-girl archetype, and mascot of the all-girls high school. I never thought of being the mascot before. I hear the music coming from the yard and take a few steps in front of the mirrors. I can't see myself at all, I'm buried, she isn't me. I have fears and I don't feel worthy to carry this mantle and it does not feel okay to be feeling so aroused in her. My body is reacting strongly, I really like this--too much. If I have an orgasm now I could make a mess that could permanently stain 'Fearless Girl.' I do not want to be 'that guy!' I begin sweating from every pore.

"Get me out. I'm not okay. I... I can't breathe!" Panicking, I get down on my knees.

Sandy gets in my face like a coach. "Hey! Look at me! Listen! Calm down. You are not in any danger here. Breathe. Watch this. Check me out."

"But, I'm..."

I fumble for what to say. I've been strapped and zipped into a foam-rubber super-girl suit that smells like girl, while being bound and touched by these beautiful cheerleaders. I'm extremely aroused, but I can't! I just can't do this. My body is humming—every nerve is tingling and it's increasing the moment.

"Let me out!" I kick and squirm in vain, trying to find a way to escape, which only serves to be more stimulating.

"Hey, want to take a chill pill?" Sandy offers.

I am on my knees, with her squatting in front of me.

"Do you have one? I think I need one," I say, trembling.

She goes to a duffel bag which is sitting by the back door. She returns with a water bottle with a built-in straw. "Try this, Fearless. It's like pure ecstasy," she says, poking the straw through a flap in the mesh of the costume mask.

I take several large sips. "Yuck! It's bitter. What's ecstatic about it?"

"It's love potion—you know? It'll make dreams come true?" Sandy says with a suggestive shrug. "We were going to save it for tonight, but it looks like we have plenty more coming"

"Oh, you mean the rave-drug?"

"Oh, shit...you've never tried it?" Sandy raises a curious eyebrow.

"No. I mean, I've wanted to, but the right situation never came up. Shouldn't you have warned me..."

"Sorry, I thought I did. That was messed up...I am really, really sorry..." she says dismissively, "...but I'll bet that tonight is going to be the right situation."

Jena takes the bottle from Sandy, and takes a large sip herself before handing it to Cheryl who sniffs it curiously.

I try to calm my nerves while focusing on non-arousing things. Oh yeah, I need to make an appointment for my driving test...

Jena glances at the clock on the wall. "Tonya... She's gotta take her pill. Be right back!" She hugs me around the neck, turns to Sandy and says, "Behave yourself." She turns and runs out the back door and up to the patio.

I watch Jena go and turn to find Sandy staring at me with a catty grin. She chuckles and crouches in front of me with her hands on her knees, casually rocking from side to side. The way she moves is delicious to watch.

"Have you ever tasted a girl?" she asks.

I forget everything I was thinking. Barely breathe again, I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

"There you go, good boy. You're probably as hard as a rock now, aren't you? Let's see if we can tell through all of this rubber."

She grabs 'Fearless Girl's' crotch and gropes the big rubber breasts, knocking me backward onto the gym mats. I am literally floored. Cheryl joins in and the two girls are all over me. I can't see what they're doing. I can only feel the weight and pressure of their bodies, but Sandy and Cheryl are enjoying themselves, rubbing all over the costume.

"You can't feel that at all, can you?" Sandy asks while groping and laughing.

It's a mind-fuck being rubbed all over without being able to feel their touch, but I'm relieved that the danger of making a notorious cum-stain has subsided for now.

"Hey Cheryl, let's show Alex how we'll set a trap for 'Fearless'. We should see how it works with the new costume."

Cheryl dutifully climbs off of me, goes to the mascot box and pulls out a long jump-rope.

Sandy begins. "So, it usually happens at games during half-time. Someone acts as a bandit and makes a show of stealing something or kidnapping someone important. Then the bad guys tie up their captive and use them as bait for a trap."

Cheryl and Sandy walk behind me and sit me up on my knees. Cheryl grabs my wrists and pulls them roughly behind my back. A loop in the middle of a long rope wraps my wrists together behind me.

"'Fearless Girl' usually comes to the rescue, but sometimes she can get caught and tied up too." Sandy grins mischievously, "Sometimes she even gets mistreated for a while."

Cheryl pulls the loose ends of the rope from my wrists, down my back and between my legs. and pulls the rope-ends up in front of me, handing them to Sandy.

I'm on my knees with my wrists tied behind me while my super-tits are pressed forward. Sandy stands in front of me, pulling the two ropes in my crotch, and pulling me high up onto my knees.

"When Fearless manages to break free, she goes to get revenge on the bandits. At homecoming we'll bring the bandits before the King and Queen and let them decide their fate; other times we'll leave it up to the crowd. We'll have other special treatments for Fearless and the bandits at the after-party."

Sandy starts swinging the ropes in my crotch like she's turning jump-ropes for double-Dutch. Even through the rubber, the rhythmic tugging is pulsating at the base of my body's sexual core. Sandy's eyes are closed and she is leaning back, swinging the ropes and rocking her hips in a wide stance, lost in the moment, enjoying herself more than I am.

Cheryl watches, licking her own parted lips as she studies Sandy's motions. She comes up behind Sandy and puts her arms around her, nuzzling her neck, caressing both thighs just below her skirt. It's one of the sexiest things I've ever seen until...

"What the Fuck! Don't effin' touch me! You're the one with the collar, you Bitch!" Sandy screams. She pushes Cheryl's hands back and leaps away.

Sandy is livid, Cheryl is stunned.

Dashing back into the room, Jena asks, "What happened? What's going on?"

With tears and fury, Cheryl storms over to a mirror and unbuckles her collar.

Cheryl yells, "Fuck you, Sandy! You freak! You can't control me with a piece of leather. FUCK! Bitch! You can barely control yourself!"

She throws the collar at Sandy and storms out the side door, to the driveway.

Sandy's anger is gone as fast as it had come.