Kamp Korrection

2: Felicity

Felicity had joined the bus at the same stop as Bruce, not long before him, in the deadbeat town they both called home. She recalled her geography teacher describing it as a 'Pimple on the arse end of nowhere!' She liked that teacher, for he lived in the real world instead of the usual academic utopia that so many teachers reside. Anyway that's digressing She was the girl halfway down the bus, opposite Bruce. But she hadn't noticed him, or anyone else getting on the bus, for that matter. She was lost in her own head, thinking why life had dealt her such a cruel hand.

​If she had noticed Bruce, and talked to him, she would have perhaps found some solace, for they were equals in all respects, just polar opposites. She was fifteen, about to turn sixteen alone at camp. She had been sent to camp by an overpowering and uncompassionate father, who did not believe in the concept of transsexuality. An observer looking at the two of them. could easily have mistaken for siblings as their hair colour was so similar.

It was only in her head that difference between them could be understood, for she longed to have a bulge between her legs - not two bumps on her chest. She dreamt of being able to 'undo' a zip, pull out a willy, and pee standing up. It was degrading, in her mind, to have to wear panties, far less having to pull them down and sit or squat down to pee. And as for that womanly monthly ritual – pads or tampons just added insult to injury.

​<<One day I'll wake up as a boy! The true me.>>, she thought with hope. <<Even if they let me wear boyish cloths, there could be some consolation. But I'm consigned to 'pretty dresses' – It doesn't get any worse than that!>>

​It was only as the bus ground to a halt outside the imposing sandstone building that she escaped from her inner self. As she stood up to get off, she noticed the boy opposite for the first time. Like she usually does with boys, she scanned him up and down, looking for attributes that she'd model her male ego on. He was not super muscular, nor was he a wimp. <<Not a bad start, but that ponytail has to go.>>, she thought. When she got to his groin, her face lit up. <<That's a nice package. I'd be happy with that!>>, she thought. Glancing back up she looked in his eyes and gave him a smile, but it was like nobody was home!

​Unfortunately her mind bumped back down to reality, as it always did in these situation. For she knew the reality of female to male surgery, and while it might allow the rudimentary functions required of it – it wasn't the real deal.

​As she was walking to her accommodation, she was people watching. She knew the camp claimed to 'cure' all LGBTQ+ conditions so was trying to categorise her fellow inmates. It was nothing more than pure speculation, of course, but it made her smile anyway, and that was a good thing.

​She noticed that 'the boy' was heading for a cabin in the same general area as hers. <<'Trans-Camp maybe?'>> immediately popped into her head. <<If we can become friends I might just be able to have a friend at least?>>