Another day of training

He wants to remain a boy
But being a girl is no longer a choice

Malcolm's feminization was going well

Malcolm slowly woke up and lay for a few minutes in his bed trying to remember where he was. He looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling and then he remembered. He was at 'The Institute'. He groaned deeply and rubbed his eyes. He told himself that he must stay strong. They could try as hard as they wanted but he was never going to be a girl!

He sighed to himself and looked down at the soft white camisole and pink pajama leggings he was wearing. They felt very luxurious against his smooth skin and he rubbed he legs together in pleasure then angrily stopped himself.
"I'm a boy," he thought to himself. "I'm a boy."
He looked around the room he was in. Aside from the bed that he was lying on there was a dressing table with a range of make-up and skin care products on it and some hair brushes. He unconsciously felt his head where his hair was already quite long and silky. It was those pills they forced him to take, they made it grow faster. There was a closet filled with girl's clothes too and he shuddered as he thought about the skirts and blouses they made him wear. Some of them were beginning to fit him just a little too well, and the day before he had worn a delightful sky blue summer dress that was cool and comfortable and made him feel very flirty.
"I'm a boy!" he reminded himself.
Just then the door opened and Malcolm winced. It was two of the stewards, both young women dressed in the regulation skin-tight bright pink catsuits that all the staff wore.
"Good morning Macy," they said brightly as they came into the room. "And what a wonderful day it is. It is time for you to get up and get ready, we've got lots to do today and the early girl catches the world."
Malcolm instinctively curled up and hugged his pillow for protection. Even as he did it he was aware of how girly it must look but he couldn't help himself.
"Leave me alone, I'm a boy," he said but his voice was far to feminine to be convincing.
"Oh come now, don't start with that nonsense again, you are doing so well. You be a good girl and get dressed, or you might have to spend some time in the Pastel Room."
Malcolm shuddered at the mention of this, he couldn't face going there again. Just thinking of the humiliation made him blush.
One of the stewards opened the closet and pulled out a flowery short skirt and a light purple silk shirt.
"Here you are," she said," this will look lovely on you. Let's find you some pretty panties and a bra to go with it."
She opened a drawer and took out some blue frilly panties and handed them to him.
Malcolm whimpered and recoiled from the underwear. He knew what would happen if he touched them. They had done something to him, brain-washing or hypnosis, or who knew what. He looked at the undies in fear but already he could feel the desire to wear them. The stewards smiled as he hesitatingly reached out for them. After all, one little touch wouldn't hurt would it?
As soon as he touched the soft cotton of the panties he felt his whole body relax. A wave of good feeling flowed through him and felt himself slipping into bliss.
"You see?" said one of the stewards. "Much better as a girl."