Crestwood Academy for Young Ladies - Forced Fem Fantasy

Chapter Sixteen: You're enjoying this nightmare!

The boys gathered in the common area after their extracurriculars, the quiet murmur of the hallways outside serving as a stark contrast to the buzz of emotions swirling among them. Dylan slumped into a chair, relieved to be out of the saddle after his first equestrian lesson. Marcus sat nearby, casually inspecting a quilting pattern, while Kyle scrolled through his phone, a satisfied smirk lingering from his French cooking class.

Aaron, on the other hand, was visibly irritated as he tossed his ballet shoes onto the table, slumping down into a chair. His face was flushed, and there was an air of frustration hanging around him that the others couldn't ignore.

"So, how was the tutu, Alana?" Kyle teased, not missing the opportunity to poke fun at Aaron's unfortunate assignment.

Aaron shot him a glare. "I didn't have to wear a tutu, idiot," he snapped. "Just a leotard and tights. Still humiliating, though."

Kyle chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "I bet you're real graceful, huh?"

Aaron clenched his fists. "You try it. See how you like having your every move criticized while you're practically being stretched into a pretzel." His eyes shifted toward Marcus and Kyle. "At least I'm not voluntarily walking around in pantyhose all day."

Marcus, who had been quietly minding his business, looked up, slightly taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You heard me," Aaron said, his tone sharp. "It's one thing to be forced into this—this whole setup—but you two? You're just embracing it. You put on those tights like it's no big deal; waking up thinking, you know what, I might just put on these pretty black tights this morning! They'll match my skirt beautifully! I'm the one getting punished, and you two are out here living like you're enjoying this nightmare."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. It's not like that. You're just mad because you got yourself punished. Ballet probably isn't that bad anyways."

"Not that bad!?" Aaron spat, standing up. "You think any of this is not that bad? Walking around, being called by some stupid girl's name, having to wear this crap?" He gestured to his leotard. "I'd like to see you in ballet class for an hour. Then tell me it's not. that. bad."

Dylan, sensing the brewing tension, stepped in. "Lay off them, bro. Everyone's just doing what they have to do. We all hate it, Aaron, but it's not like anyone asked for this." He glanced at Marcus and Kyle. "They're just trying to get through it like the rest of us."

Aaron's face twisted with frustration, but before he could fire back, a voice chimed in from the doorway.

"Oh, are we talking about the infamous ballet class?" Emily strolled into the common area, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I heard Aaron's the next big star in the making."

Aaron groaned, his irritation only growing at her teasing tone. "You're not helping."

Emily gave a sly smile. "I'm just saying, you guys should've joined me on the swim team. You'd look much cuter in a one-piece."

Kyle burst out laughing, while Aaron sank deeper into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Marcus snickered but kept his gaze low, clearly not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

Sophie appeared behind Emily, leaning casually against the doorframe. "The rest of you guys really missed out. Ballet's not that bad if you give it a chance." Her teasing was softer than Emily's, but it still hit its mark.

"Yeah, sure, because you're not the one stuck in it," Aaron muttered bitterly.

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. We all have our challenges here." She winked at Dylan, who offered a weak smile in return, still unsure of what to make of his equestrian gear.

Emily's grin widened as she strolled over to where Aaron was sitting. "You know, we could always get you into synchronized swimming if ballet doesn't work out. You'd be adorable bobbing up and down in one of those little caps."

Aaron threw his head back with an exasperated groan. "Uhhh- this will never get easier!"

Dylan, sensing the tension still lingering, shook his head. "It's fine, man. We all have to deal with this in our own way. We just have to survive it."

Aaron sighed, looking around at his friends. "Yeah, well, surviving is getting harder by the day."

The room grew quiet for a moment, the weight of Aaron's frustration and the subtle cracks in their unity settling in. Even Kyle, who had been teasing Aaron, now looked thoughtful. They all felt it—the strain, the pressure to conform, the overwhelming sense of helplessness that was becoming harder to ignore.

"Speaking of surviving," Sophie broke the silence, leaning back into her seat, "sounds like you all made it through your first round of extracurriculars, though."

Aaron let out an exasperated sigh, glancing at his nails. "Barely."

"You didn't even have to wear the tutu. Quit being so dramatic." Kyle muttered.

Aaron shot him a glare. "For the last time, this leotard is bad enough."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I survived my riding lesson in these white tight pants, and no one's complaining here. I found a way to enjoy it."

"Yeah, because you picked horses, cowboy," Aaron shot back. "Meanwhile, you've got these two voluntarily wearing pantyhose."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You're really hung up on that, aren't you?"

Dylan cut in, his voice firm but understanding. "Come on, man, let it go. We're all in the same boat. Doesn't matter what we're wearing—we all hate this. It's all part of the deal."

Aaron sighed, slumping back in his chair, his frustration finally simmering down. "Whatever."

With a yawn, Marcus stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, I'm beat. We should probably hit the showers before it gets too late."

"Agreed," Kyle said, rising to his feet as well.

As they made their way to the showers, the evening's laughter slowly faded into quiet thoughts, a mix of camaraderie, frustration, and the ever-present reminder that no matter how much they joked or teased, they were still trapped in a world they couldn't escape. Tomorrow would bring another set of challenges, another day of pushing through the discomfort.