The Tomboy girl in the Femboy school

Crimes

Heyyy! I'm Olivia, and thanks for checking out my story! If you've come from my first story, I'd like to say thanks! More parts are to come!

This, however, is an attempt to write a darker, less generic story. First of all, it's from the female 'domme' perspective, which although I find easier to write due to being able to relate to it better (although I'm not a tomboy at all, lol!), is not typical of a story like this. Please give it a chance, though, I think you'll like it!

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It was a late February night. Charlotte opened the door to her and her mum's flat and tried to sneak in.

"Where the hell have you been!" Her mother shouted, "It's two in the morning!"

"I was out with friends," Charlotte replied casually, squeezing past her and going into her bedroom. She closed her door behind her as her mother sighed,

"Why can't she be like other girls?".

Charlotte was a cis-girl, but was a tomboy. She had just turned 17 a few days ago, and always wore black 80s rock t-shirts and black skinny jeans. She had short dyed-black hair, and never wore makeup. If she was in her room, you could always hear Metallica or AC DC audibly from inside, even though it was sound proofed.

She always was out, smoking weed and drinking beer with her friends, all boys, in the outskirts of town, often getting into fights, and coming out of them with only a couple bruises and scrapes. She knocked a guy out for flirting with her. Over the past 2 years, she had been given multiple warnings by the police for trespassing, theft, vandalism, drug use and possession, and even assault.

She had gotten kicked out of school about a month ago, which didn't change much as she probably only went a handful of times that year. She had burnt her uniform (until this incident, she had worn boys uniform, which was against the rules, but she wouldn't be caught dead in a skirt) and only went in her usual attire, which angered the very proper headmistress, who was looking for any further reason to expel her, which came after she punched her maths teacher for telling her she got an answer wrong.

Charlotte woke up to the front door closing. Her mum burst into her room.

"I can't believe you, young lady!" Charlotte grimaced at those words. Young lady.

"Do you know who that was?"

"The prime minister?" Charlotte said, sarcastically.

"No! It was the police! They have CCTV footage of your little gang trespassing onto the railway and vandalising a train. It's going to cost £300 per window. That's £1500! Plus the cost of painting over the graffiti!"

"It's art!" Charlotte said, "And anyway, I only broke 2 of the windows... or was it three? It doesn't matter. It was Seb that broke the others."

"You know I'm going to have to pay to fix it!? I don't even make that much in a month, even with the benefits starting in April!"

"Oh well, poor you!" Charlotte said, dismissively, "Now can you turn off my light and close the door, I've got a big hangover." She turned over a smushed her face into her pillow.

Her mother closed her door, leaving the light on as some sort of petty punishment, and walked into the small living room. She sat down, and tried to think of anything, anything to make her daughter behave.

A few hours later, she knocked on Charlotte's door, which she could hear music quite loudly through, and went in, without waiting for a response. Charlotte was playing her guitar, plugged into her amp, turned up so high it was making a crackling noise, to the song Ace of Spades, which was also crackling through her speakers.

"What do you want?" Charlotte shouted over the music. Her mum turned off the amp and speaker.

"What the fuck!?" Charlotte shouted.

"Come into the living room with me," her mum replied calmly. Charlotte reluctantly put her guitar to the side and followed her.

They both sat down on the sofas, facing each other.

"What do you want?" Charlotte said, angrily.

"I'm worried about you, Charlotte."

"I've told you before, It's Charlie!" She groaned, "Charlotte is so... girly and prissy!"

"I've enlisted you into a school, one that is used to dealing with boyish, violent behaviour," Her mum carefully explained.

"I'm not going to school, let alone a special one. All the girls there are probably freaks!"

"You are going to this school, Charlie. Normally it costs a serious amount of money, but because of your... unique situation, they've offered you a place for free. You can't reject this offer, it's too good to waste!"

Charlotte assumed her unique situation was the fact that her mum couldn't often afford to put food on the table 3 times a day, or that her dad was in prison.

"Look, Seb told me that he can get me a job in Romania soon, big money, it's where his dad is."

"What if that doesn't work out!? You need to go to school, honey!"

"You said it yourself, it's expensive, meaning that everyone else will be posh, stuck up... weirdos!"

Her mum didn't like to lie, but she had to.

"It's either this school, or Juvenile prison, Charlotte," She said seriously, "That's what the police say." Charlotte sat in shock.

"Ok. Tell me what this school is like."