Women's Venom Prelude #1

Women’s Venom

Prelude #1

School began in an odd way today. Well, for one, this seemingly normal spring morning my mom decided to come with. It was nice to get a ride to school instead of the bus, but for some reason I felt uneasy. Mom had also brought a small duffel bag with her. It seemed mostly empty, but no doubt some things were in there. While mom remained her usual stoic self, Jennifer seemed oddly perky today, kicking her legs a bit as mom drove.

“What’re you so happy about?” I ask, confused. Jennifer was rarely ever this happy about going to school. Usually only if there was some special event, or it was a rather easy day. These didn’t happen often, and I don’t recall it being a field trip day for the fourth graders or so.

“Oh, you’ll see little bro.” Jennifer added extra emphasis on the bro. She smirked a bit and continued energetically moving her legs a bit. “Can’t wait to see how it turns out.” 

“You’ll be in class dear.” Mom spoke up, pulling into the parking lot of the moderately large elementary school, putting the car in park.

“But mom! I wanna see!” Jennifer whined, pouting a bit.

“This is between Ryan’s first graders and the fifth graders. You’ll have your turn next year, if you get your stinger working by then.” She states in a matter of fact way. Jennifer groans a bit but gets out of the car.

I too got out of the car. I began to ponder. What was going on with the fifth graders? Sure, they were the oldest in the school but what would we first graders have to do with them? It was odd for sure. And mom mentioned Jennifer’s stinger. I just know girls have them, but not what they do. I was thinking so hard before I knew it I had made it to my class with my mom. Jennifer, I assume, had gone off to her fourth grade class somewhere down their particular hall.

Inside was… different. The desks were aligned a bit together to make room for an odd sight. Along the far wall opposite the door was a large curtain, the entire length covered by the red fabric. It hung pretty high up, but not completely towards the ceiling. We must have gotten here early, as we were about sixth or seventh in my class of near twenty five. Only seemed to be other boys in the room currently. They were in a huddle towards the back of the room, while my mom walked off to say hello to the teacher. I made my way over to them.

“Hey guys… what’s going on?” I walked up. Three of the boys looked a bit confused, while the fourth boy, Jack, look positively scared to death. He shook a bit now and again, his hazel eyes a bit unfocused.

“Jack says he knows what this is about.” One of them says, pointing a bit to Jack, rolling his eyes.

“Well, what are our moms doing here?” I ask. The boys groan a bit as Jack seems to start some speech up again.

“W-well, you know the stingers the girls have?” I nod. “Well, you know what they’re for?” I shake my head no. He pauses for dramatic effect. “Well, they turn us into…” he gulps. “Girls…”

I quirk an eyebrow confused. The other boys shake their heads a bit, not sure whether to believe him or not. We don’t really know what their stingers do, but turning us into girls? That seems a bit farfetched. Jack goes on and on about how his older brother was a girl for a week in October last year. That this is a so called girl week for the fifth graders as they develop their venom as he called it. Of course, none of us had seen his brother during this time, so we weren’t sure if we should believe him or not.

The morning ticks by, as more and more of the students came in, all of them the boys in my class. With the lack of girls around, I did start getting a bit curious if what Jack said was true. At exactly eight in the morning, the teacher called us to our seats. Our moms stood next to our desks, the bell ringing starting the school day for the other students. The air seemed oddly tense, well, to us anyway. Our moms seemed positively relaxed. Our teacher, a tall but elderly woman with silvery hair and oversized glasses stood at her usual spot in front of the room. Her slightly raspy but strong voice began.

“First off, I would like to thank all the parents who have taken the time out of their busy schedule to come today. I’m sure your boys will feel much better with you around. That and those of you without partners will need a bit of assistance, I’m sure.” The mothers all nod a bit, the rest of us feeling uneasy.

“Now, I’m sure some of you have heard the rumors on the playground from time to time, but yes, it is true that our stingers are capable of making you boys female.” She pauses, as if to hear our reactions. Of course, I’m not sure what to think. Could this all be a big joke? There’s some murmuring between desks close together, but nothing too loud, likely from our mom’s being so close by.

“This is what we affectionately call Girl Week. Many, but not all, of the girls in the fifth grade class have begun production of venom in their stingers, and it would be good for them to get a bit of practice with it. Also, this will give all of you a great opportunity to understand your female classmates a bit better. For the next week…” The teacher drones on and on, us boys unable to really believe what we’re hearing. A full week as girls?! What was this? There was no way that this actually happened.

A knock on the door interrupts our teacher’s long winded speech about understanding, experience, and so forth. She opens the door and another teacher begins speaking with her a moment. Her grey head nods as she makes her way back to the front, a bunch of fifth grade girls begin to walk in. A large, collective gulp could almost be heard from the boys. A tall girl, with long, shining blonde hair and sparkling green eyes makes her way over to me. She smiles brightly and ruffles my head. 

“How are you ‘lil cutie?” I lurch back a bit away from her, but she simply smiles and waits as our teacher finally winds down.

“These girls will be our chaperones for the week. Unfortunately, between the two students born without stingers and the group that simply did not develop their venom, only about two thirds of you will get your own chaperone. The rest of you will be continuing your classes with the girls. They and I will hopefully be able to teach you well.” I look up to the girl, hearing the chaperone, as she gives me a bit of a wink, turning back to the teacher. I shudder a tad. After my teacher is finally done, she reads the first ten names in alphabetical order, which of course includes me. 

“Ready honey?” Mom takes me by the hand with enough force to at least get me out of the desk. For whatever reason mom always looks a bit more intimidating wearing her business clothes. Myself in one hand, and the duffel bag in the other, she takes me along to one of the areas of the curtain, the blonde girl following us, skipping a bit and humming.

Inside the individual stall are two chairs, next to each other, and sitting on one is a rather large mirror, at least for portable use. Mom moves the mirror away and sits down, patting her lap to signify I should sit on it. With the fifth grader behind me at the “doorway” I sigh and sit. My legs only reach just past her knees, so I really am off the ground like this. Mom wraps her arms around my waist, almost like a seatbelt, as she smiles a bit, oddly relaxed.

“So, what is your name sweetie?” She asks the girl who pulls up the chair next to us.

“Olivia ma’am. I’m glad to be taking care of your little girl for the week.” She smiles widely again, getting oddly close.

“I’m glad you are, but remember this is to train your stinger, and teach them. Not to turn our boys into dolls. This is an experience for them.” Mom pats my head a bit.

“Mom, do we HAVE to do this? I mean… chaperones? I gotta be with her all week?” I grumble a bit.

“Yes honey, you do. It’s important for you to understand girls just a bit, that and you’ll learn respect for women a lot more after you’ve been one.” 

“But mom! I don’t wanna be- “

“Enough dear. I made sure you got your own chaperone that can help you out, or would you rather be in class with your normal classmates?” She says. I frown, wondering what would be worse. I guess it’d be spending time with the girls in my class, seeing me like this. “It’s only for a week dear. It won’t be so bad, honest.” I frown and pout a bit, looking a bit angry at her, but mom simply rolled her eyes.

“Can we start now? I think it’d be better to get her here while she’s a tad more willing.” Olivia smiles, getting close again.

“Just a moment.” Mom says, getting out a bit of rubbing alcohol from the duffel bag. I try to peer in, but it’s hard to turn my body around while on my mom’s lap. She dabs a bit on some cotton and rubs it on my wrist. I shake a bit at its coldness and smelly nature. “Now dear, hold out your hand. It won’t be any different than getting a shot at the doctor’s place.”

“But I hate getting shots…” I sigh, but hold it out, as Olivia quickly grabs my hand. I jolt a bit at her eagerness.

“Careful Olivia. This is supposed to be gentle. If you’re not careful you could leave quite a nasty bruise, and I won’t be happy with that.” Mom gives one of her fear inducing glares, which obviously shook Olivia a bit. I, of course, stiffen at the mere glance of that face.

“Y-yes ma’am.” She says, moving much slower now. She looks at my wrist, my hand in hers. She pauses a moment and brings her free hand close. I look cautiously as a thin needle like object protrudes from her wrist. 

“Now, while tightening the skin to expose the stinger, try to relax the stinger itself.” My mom instructs. Olivia nods, and a moment later, some clear liquid lightly drips out. “Now, contract it a bit.” Suddenly the liquid just shoots out! It smells a tad odd, a little acidy. I gulp and pull my hand a bit but Olivia has a firm grasp.

“Can I try now?” Olivia asks. I look up and give my best pleading face, but mom obviously wasn’t going to fall for that.

“Sure, but just be very careful.” She says, rubbing my head a bit which I suppose was supposed to calm me down. I gulp and look away, never liking getting needles at the doctor’s office. In only a moment, I feel a sharp sting right on my wrist. I wince and tighten the muscles around there.

“Ok, it’s in…” Olivia says, an audible gulp escapes her. Great confidence boost.

“Now relax and contract to shoot it in. We want a weeks’ worth, so this will have to be a while.” I feel the pressure of something entering, shooting in bit by bit. It was a bit nauseating at first, but the sensation became less gross as the seconds ticked by. About a minute passed and I started to feel a bit woozy. Mom instructs her to stop. A bit surprised by the sudden speech Olivia retracts the stinger quickly; a sharp sting pricks my wrist a bit. Mom quickly puts a bandage over it as I pull my hand back. The area she stung is rather sore.

“That was… kinda tiring.” Olivia breathes heavily once and relaxes on the chair.

“You were nervous dear, it happens.” Mom continues to rub my head as the room begins to shake a bit. I groan a bit and lean over, feeling nauseous. 

“Oh, is it? Is it?” Olivia gets rather excited again. I gasp a bit for air, feeling like I’m puking but nothing is coming out. The room begins to spin in a hurry, my vision gets blurry. My lower stomach churns, as I get the feeling like I did the one time I had a stomach bug. My head feels empty inside but the head itself so strangely heavy. Mom’s and Olivia’s voices become dry, echo like sounds, bouncing around but indecipherable. I shake a bit, feeling oddly cold. Their voices continue as I don’t recall anything for the next number of moments. I feel rather numb, but something is being done to me, but I’m not entirely sure what. I try to ask what’s going on, but I’m not sure if anything I tried to say got out. I close my eyes…

Suddenly, I’m wide awake again, as I look about. The room shakes only slightly, but focuses immediately. Olivia is staring right at my face, mere inches away. I lurch back and scream in surprise, but… this wasn’t my voice. It was really high pitched. I lean back hard into mom’s chest, as she smiles and chuckles a bit.

“She’s awake!” Olivia smiles, proudly standing tall.

“You did well Olivia. Now, how’re you feeling?” She smiles down at me.

“M-me?” I say, again, this different voice says.

“Yes, how’s our little Rachel?” Mom playfully says, pinching my cheek a bit. It hurts a bit more than usual, and the air seems oddly cooler than usual.

“R-rachel?! Wh-what’re you..” Olivia quickly grabs the large mirror and places it in front of me.

Sitting on my mom’s lap is a girl that kind of looks like me. Her long black hair is put into pigtails held in place by some red bows. Her eyes are the same color, but a tad bigger, and lashes much longer. Her face is also a bit rounder. She’s in a red dress, sleeveless. It tightly hugs her shoulders and chest a bit, before opening up around the waist area. As I look at it, I notice some fabric tightly pressing against me as I breathe. The dress ends just below her knees. Her feet are in a pair of black, buckled shoes with some socks with ruffles along the top.

In my confusion, I look down at myself, and see a bare collarbone, quickly giving to the same red fabric of the dress. I rub my eyes a bit with my hands, and notice my arms are completely uncovered. Looking down once more, some long black hair droops to both of my sides. I look up and down a few more times from the mirror to me.

I’m pretty sure my shriek could be heard from outside the class as well. I squirm and flail about in surprise as mom holds me down in her lap. Olivia giggles a bit as mom puts a bit more effort into keeping me still.

“Calm down Rachel. I know this is shocking but just breathe.” I breathe a bit heavy, but calm down a bit, feeling a bit tighter wound than normal.

“”N-no way I…” I try to say again but a girl’s voice comes out once more.

“Yep ya are!” Olivia smiles and gives me a huge hug. Her face rubs against mine, I blush a bit at the softness I’m feeling.

“How long was I out?” I gulp, tugging at the dress with my hands.

“A few minutes dear. I hear young boys pass out a bit from it, but thankfully it was just long enough to get you dressed without a fuss.” Mom smiles.

“But I want my clothes.” I grumble. I squirm a bit more, my usual briefs under the dress feeling oddly… tight and restraining. And they press fierce between my legs, as I feel really sensitive there.

“You’ll wear Jennifer’s old clothes for the week honey. You’re a bit small for your clothes right now.” She massages me a bit to try and calm me down.

“I’m in… Jenn’s clothes!? Ew ew ew!” I squirm as mom rolls her eyes. She lifts her hand and looks at her watch.

“Well, at this point there isn’t much I can do. I need to get going to work now Rachel.” She gives me a kiss on the head a bit and lets me stand up. I feel a bit wobbly, out of balance. The shoes feel a bit more raised than normal, and moving my legs while standing makes me all the more aware of a certain thing missing. I eep a bit and squish my legs together in surprise at how odd it feels. Mom chuckles a bit. Olivia quickly takes my hand as she pulls me to follow my mom out of the room.

The room has about half the boys left, who of course stare at anyone leaving. I blush hard and hide behind my mom and Olivia. Their shocked and fearful expressions make me all the more aware of what just happened. My shoes make a little clicking noise every step I take, and walking feels very different. I can still move my legs forward and back just fine, but it feels like they don’t particularly want to. That and moving my legs back and forth I can feel really bizarre sensations from… something between my legs. It feels gross and out of place, and I can’t seem to get rid of the feeling. Mom bids farewell to the teacher, who thanks her again for being here. She gives me a big hug before leaving. 

My teacher than dismisses Olivia and I, saying we can head to Olivia’s classroom now. She thanks my teacher and pulls me down the hall at a rapid pace, practically running! She gets shouted at a few times about running in the halls, but doesn’t seem to care. I find it hard to keep up, my legs straining to keep pace, and the sensation makes it really hard for me to concentrate. I feel my hair bounce up and down heavily as she pulls me. She slides to a stop before the fifth grade room.

I slam into her a bit, into her back as I sort of grab onto her since I almost fell. Inside is a much bigger classroom, but instead of desks a series of round tables have been set up. Inside are all girls. Many of them fifth graders, but a number of obviously girls my grade. I don’t think I recognize them, even if I try to imagine them as boys. Olivia happily walks in, again leading me. She waves to a few girls and scurries over. There are two of them, each with their own girl my age in tow.

“Aw, your girl is so cute!” The slightly taller girl leans over a bit to look at me. I hide behind Olivia, who pokes me to stand in front.

“Don’t be shy Rachel. Say hello.” She grins.

“Uh, hi…” I sigh, still finding my voice odd. The other two first graders are brought to the front. The first girl to my right has long red hair, and is shuffling in her knee length skirt, but has an otherwise normal t-shirt and shoes on. She blushes brightly, as I am sure I am as well. The girl to my left has her brown hair held up in a ponytail, but is similarly put in a dress, but a bit more flat than wide. They both grumble as they’re told to introduce themselves as Leslie and Trisha, respectively. 

A few ground rules are set, such as not referring to our boy name at all, and that we were from different classes, so it’d be harder to recognize each other. Olivia makes sure we all know the next rule of making sure to tell them about using the restroom, as she doesn’t want any gross accidents. All of us turn even redder. And finally, that since they are the “girl experts” we have to listen to everything they say. We groan again.

The teacher informs our little pod that there is still time before the class completely arrives, so Olivia and her friends decide to continue our “training” for the time being. She takes her bag and pulls out some red nail polish. She remarks that it was a good choice, considering my fashion choice.

“Would you rather go first or paint Trisha’s nails first?” She smiles.

“What? I don’t want to actually have to do that!” I say, Trisha and Leslie nod in agreement. Olivia hands Leslie the polish. “So, you’ll go first then while yours dry. Seems fair right?”  I gulp, at least not having to paint their nails. I reluctantly sigh and agree, and before long my nails are a similar red as the dress I was wearing. The stuff smells really bad.

The class is all girls, a number of the first graders I think I can recognize, but with the rule of having to use our girl names, I can’t be certain either way. Then again, I think it was easier to pretend each other were normally girls, to save ourselves the embarrassment. Lesson wise, our studies were more or less the same, but with periodic breaks to give us a chance to relax and use the bathroom. Which, by the way, is incredibly embarrassing having to get pulled into the girls’ room, and pull your dress up to sit, let alone the physical sensations of having to use….. that.

The day passed without too much incident. One girl had an accident and couldn’t make it to the restroom in time, which of course got some laughs from the fifth graders. We all made sure to never bring it up around her. Jennifer, once I got home, was ecstatic to play with me. After snapping a few photos of me dressed up, she promised she’d never show them if I played with her this week. Well, less like play and be more her dress up doll. Apparently seeing her old clothes got her nostalgic, and I head to wear just about everything she had, including her stupid little mermaid Halloween costume from a few years ago. More pictures were taken.

The week passed, lessons were learned (jewelry, light make-up, and other things I didn’t get but the girls seemed to enjoy), and Jennifer, while teasing, pretty much gave me in marriage to her best guy friend in her class. Of course he shot her down; nodding a bit to me, pretty much just telling me that I just had to tough it out.  By the fifth day or so, I started getting oddly comfortable as Rachel, having better control over my body, and not minding the long hair as much. Thankfully, on the Sunday before we went back to school, I did change back, but only right before bed while I had Jennifer’s old nightgown on. At least Girl Week had finally come to an end.