This chapter simply continues Martina's passage through school and describes some of the adventures she experiences.

Just a nice tittilating story.
Enjoy,
Bev.

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Martina’s Story

Chapter 3

List of Characters.

Myself. Martina, A sexually dysphoric child whose sexuality has not
yet been ascertained but who chooses to present as a girl.

Beverly. My adoptive ‘aunt’ who is a mature shemale and my most supportive adult friend.

Chenille. My older half sister.

Jennifer. Aunt Beverly’s adopted daughter.

Beatrice. Aunt Beverly’s second adopted daughter and Jennifer’s younger sister.

Sian. My lesbian mother who is married to —

Margaret. Who is Chenille’s lesbian mother.

Sissy. My and Chenille’s transvestite shemale father.

Sandie. My doctor, psychiatrist and sexual counsellor.

Judge Elizabeth Porter. The judge who ruled that I should be allowed to live and dress as a girl.

Angela Hunt. Jennifer and Beatrice’s natural blood mother who is now married to Aunt Beverly who is a shemale.

Lucinda My, Beatrice’s and Melanie’s new school friend who will prove to be a real diamond.

Baroness Wemite’ Sian’s old School Chum

Peter Baroness Wemite’s son

Melanie Baroness Wemite’s daughter and my best schoolfriend.

Rosemary & Monika. Two bullies in the junior school.

Lucinda A previous victim of the two bullies

I arrived at the top of the Dumplin and waited for the trekkers to return along the bridle path. As my pony and I waited under the trees, a cold winter rain had set in but we had come prepared. I simply loosened the ‘button-back’ tails of my ‘bushman’s riding coat. This then spread over my pony’s back and he gave a pleasurable snort as the waterproof material enveloped him. Apart from his legs and head, he was as well covered as I was. We waited patiently under the trees and joined the riding party as they returned.

“Was every thing OK Martina?” Asked Miss Smith.

“Yes thank you Miss, and thank you for letting me see them.”

She smiled and declared that I owed her one. The rest of the girls laughed for this invariably involved extra dunging out at the stables. I rejoined Melanie and the class plodded home through the increasing rain. By the time we arrived at the school, the rain was lashing down and it took an extra hour to get everything ship-shape. Like us, the ponies were obviously grateful to be home and dry.

Once in the privacy of our study, Melanie interrogated me before our friends returned from the away hockey match.

“Well. What did your mum say?”

“About what?” I parried.

“Oh come on Martie, I know you too well. You went to ask for advice.”

“So.”

“And.”

“And what?” I ‘stonewalled’.

“And what did they say.”

“They say we should wait a bit and not rush into stuff.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing much. I just said I had been -, you know -, down there.”

“And what did you say about me?”

“Nothing. I pretended it was just innocent fun.”

“Huh. Innocent fun! I think my mother already suspects something about me. How did your Aunty Beverly and Mummy Sian take it?”

“Like I said. My Mummy and my Aunty Beverly are worldly wise. They understand how little girls can become curious but they advised me to go slowly. Take my time and find out if we can trust each other.”

“Of course we can trust each other. I’ve already told you I’m -, I’m -, you know -, gay.”

“Yes, they understand that, my own mummy Sian is gay so they’re compassionate about that, but they still advised me to go slowly.”

“How slow is slowly then?” Pressed my exasperated friend.

“Well I think we should wait until next year. We’ll be fourteen then and we’ll be older.”

“Next year!” Screeched a frustrated Melanie. “I don’t think I can wait that long. If you loved me, you would do it now!”

“Heck Melanie! You sound like some teenaged boy trying to have his way with a new girl. I prefer to take it slowly. I’ve still got problems down there and I have to see my doctor during the Christmas holidays. If everything’s OK then I might be able to try stuff next year. That’s what my mummy said and she knows about this stuff. I like you and I like your lovely soft ripe girly curves, but I’m just not ready yet. Stop trying to bully me. I’m not ready yet.”
I started to blubber and Melanie immediately became the solicitous caring partner. She put her arms around my shoulders and was all concern.

“OK then, we’ll wait until next year. When will you be fourteen?”

“You know my birthday. It’s May, I’m one of the youngest in the class.”

“Yeah, but one of the nicest. OK then, I’ll wait. I’m fourteen in March.”

Having set a firm ‘date’ I relaxed and snuggled into Melanie’s embrace. May seemed like years away.
For the rest of the Christmas term, Melanie contented herself with simply letting me attend to her girly parts. It was nice, but I had to confess that all this stuff was frustrating me. Melanie used to wonder why I often had to go to the toilet during our fun time but I passed it off as having to do with my ‘problem’.
The Christmas holidays finally came around and Aunty Beverly accompanied Mummy Sian and me to a special children’s hospital in Holland. After Doctor Sandie had reassured me that the operation was of a type that was easily reversible, I was vasectomised so that there could be no accidents in school.

By the end of January, after a brief extension to my holiday, I was deemed to be sterile. I returned to St Angie’s feeling a lot happier about any possible ‘accidents’ with Melanie.
When she saw me, a huge smile spread across her beautiful face and that very night she was over me like a rash. By now, Beatrice and the other dorm mates had deduced that Melanie and I were an item. Beatrice was a little concerned about it and she tackled me about it one Saturday morning when the other girls were working in the library.

“Does Melanie know about your boy clitty?” Asked Beatrice.

“Not yet.” I replied.

“So when are you going to tell her?”

“I have to sound her out. She likes me a lot and she loves my titties but she still thinks I’m a girl.”

Beatrice fell into a thoughtful silence. She and my other sisters knew all about my condition and they had been loyal to the end. My condition was still a firm secret except amongst a few selected teaching staff.

“She’s bound to find out if you get more intimate.” Cautioned Beatrice.

“I’m working up to it. Give me a chance. Anyway, Melanie has intimated that it’s not boys she hates so much, as their rough ways and hairy muscular bodies. Knowing this, I hope to tell her on my fourteenth birthday. I promised her we could be more intimate then.”

“Why your fourteenth? Why not wait until you’re sixteen and make it all legal?”

“I can’t wait that long. I’m getting hornier every day.”

“Huh just like a boy then!” Giggled Beatrice who had already had Melanie’s brother Peter trying to grope her during the Christmas Holidays.

“Yes but this time it’s different. Melanie is taking the lead. It’s me that’s the virginal one.”

“Just like a girl holding onto her virginity. Is that it?”

“It’s something like that,” I confessed, “but finally most girls give it up.”

“Well just be careful. Make sure she’s well prepared for the shock.”

“Like you need to tell me that?” I giggled back.

“It’s no joke!” Protested Beatrice. “If she takes it the wrong way, it could be bad for all of us and the school.”

“Yeah. Don’t I know it?” I sighed.

Beatrice gave me a hug and kissed me affectionately.

“Don’t worry sis, there’s always us, your family.”

“Yeah but I can’t do stuff with family.” I mumbled wistfully.

“We’re not that sort of family. It would be legal for Jennifer or me we aren’t blood relatives. Now you’ve had that vasectomy thing, it’s safe.”

“But the thought of doing it with my sisters. That’s not right.”

“Why not. Don’t you find me attractive?”

I looked at Bea and suddenly realised she was very attractive and every bit as curvy and winsome as Melanie. It was just that I had been so involved with Melanie over the past six months that I had not noticed Bea blossoming. Bea spotted the appreciation in my eyes and grinned.

“See, I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got that boy look but cleverly disguised because you know how we girls are.”

She gave a provocative little wiggle, gave me a hug and a kiss then went down to the library to work on her essay. I sat stunned for a moment.

‘Beatrice hadn’t demonstrated any revulsion towards me. Perhaps she fancied me as well’ I thought. ‘Golly, life was getting complicated!’

I sat recovering my wits when Melanie emerged from the shower. As I sat absently staring out of the study window, she sneaked up behind me and placed her hands over my eyes as her ripe breasts pressed into my back. Even through my school blouse, I could feel her stiff nipple buds and I gently squirmed my shoulders against them. Her hands released my eyes and slowly slid down my shoulders to cup my boobs.

“Hi lover. You should have joined me in the shower.”

“That wouldn’t be fair on the others,” I replied, “we shouldn’t rub stuff in their faces. They’ve been pretty tolerant of us so far.”

“Do you think they object then?” She asked.

“Well, Beatrice and Lucinda don’t seem to object but Charlotte and Betty seem a little put out.”

“Perhaps they’re jealous.” Suggested Melanie.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well it won’t matter next year. As fourth formers, we get to share a four bed study.”

I reflected silently on Melanie’s remark. ‘It would certainly reduce the chances of ‘discovery’ if there were only four of us to learn my secret.’

As Melanie’s fingers ‘tested’ my stiffening nipples I wriggled appreciatively and reached up to stroke her long, damp hair. Then our embrace was interrupted. Lucinda had come to collect some notes. She caught us hurriedly disentangling our arms and she smiled kindly.

“Just look at you two.” She giggled. “In flagrant delecto.”

“Sorry Lucinda,” I crimsoned.

“Oh don’t mind me. Each to their own, I say.”

Melanie said nothing. She knew well enough not to become defensive or aggressive. Either response might have created issues so she simply changed the subject. She turned to face the mirror and ran her fingers through her still damp hair. We all knew Lucinda liked experimenting with makeup and hairstyles.

“D’you think I should get it cut?” Asked Melanie.

“Oh no!” Protested Lucinda. “It’s lovely hair. Just leave it straight like that or keep it in a ponytail. It looks classy like that.”

Lucinda leant forward and grasped the wet tresses in her skilful fingers. She pulled them back from Melanie’s face and held them behind her ears.

“There. Just like that but don’t make the ponytail too tight. It makes you look as though you’ve had an Essex girl facelift.”

So saying, Lucinda picked up a brush and boldly ran it through Melanie’s hair as she separated the tresses and then scrunchied it at the back.

“There. Like that. It makes you look classy, see.”

Melanie studied her image in the mirror and nodded approvingly. Lucinda certainly had the gift.
Thus diverted, Lucinda gathered up her notes and left to rejoin Beatrice in the library.

“She’s good,” declared Melanie as we both watched Lucinda’s lithesome form sway down the corridor.

“In what way?” I asked smiling.

“Oh Stoppit you.” Giggled Melanie. “Now where are my knickers?”

“Where they should be,” I replied, “in your drawer.”

Without blinking an eye, Melanie slipped off her towel and dug out her regulation school knickers and bra. I studied her appreciatively.

“I wish we didn’t have to wear these maroon, cotton, interlock knickers.” I observed.

“You prefer them sexy and frilly do you?” Replied Melanie.

I nodded silently as I held out Melanie’s plain cotton bra.

“I wish we could wear matching lingerie.” I declared.

“Mmm. I bet you do, and I bet you’d look good in it as well.”

As Melanie spoke, I slipped her bra around her breasts and fastened it at the back then I kissed her beautiful slender neck.

“Mmm. That’s nice but you’d better not start anything. I’ve got to finish my essay this morning or I can’t go into town this afternoon. Are you going?”

“Of course. We four are meeting Aunty Beverly and Mummy Margaret for lunch then going shopping. You can join us if you want.”

“What, and miss a day’s total freedom without parents or teachers, leave it there.”

I grinned knowingly. Once a fortnight on Saturday afternoons, the middle school boarders were allowed into town unaccompanied. It was like being released from prison. Melanie always went alone but I never asked where she went. I was to
learn much later on in our senior years.

We gathered up our books and went to join Bea and Lucy.

In the library, Bea gave me a knowing look but I mouthed ‘no’. Melanie still did not know, and she wouldn’t find out until or unless I was sure she would not be offended or angered at the knowledge.

For the next few nights I played it cool, only letting Melanie share my bed without any ‘hanky-panky’. Naturally she got frustrated, but I stuck to my guns as I gently sounded her out about her attitudes to boys. Things would have to move slowly. I was still worried about how I was going to enlighten Melanie about my ‘condition’. The chance came a few weeks later.

One Saturday afternoon, Beatrice came back from town with a magazine about ‘she-males’. It was actually an ordinary woman’s magazine but they had daringly included an article about she-males and Beatrice had seized the opportunity to raise the issue amongst the other girls in the study that Saturday evening. I recognised Beatrice’s stratergem and secretly thanked her later.

“Hey girls!” She giggled. “Look at this,” she squealed as we shared biscuits and chocolate.

“What?” Demanded Lucy as she bent down over Bea’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh! Is that for real?” She gasped.

“It says so in the article.”

Gertrude and Daisy scrambled to stare and the four of them fell to giggling as Beatrice read out the article aloud. I arrived as she finished the article and Lucinda showed me the article.

“What d’you think Martie?” She asked.

I studied the picture and smiled.

“It’s weird, but she looks pretty. Each to their own, I say.”

Daisy then took the magazine and smirked.

“I wonder if she likes boys or girls?”

“It doesn’t say,” pronounced Gert. “I wonder what Melanie would say?”

“She’s not back yet. She’s catching the later bus.” I replied, secretly hoping that it would give me an excellent chance to ask her about her feelings.

“She only likes girls doesn’t she Martie?” Giggled Lucinda.

“You’d have to ask her that. She’s never discussed it with me,” I lied.

“Ooooh. Touched a sore point have we?” Grinned Daisy.

“No. It’s just that this stuff has never arisen before,” I replied, “why, do you fancy her?”

“Who, Melanie?” Asked Daisy.

“No silly. The girl in the magazine,”

Daisy took the opportunity to study the shemale again.

“Well she’s very pretty, but no, I fancy my men a bit stronger than her -, or him.”

“Same here,” added Gertrude, “though it would be interesting to find out what she’s like.

“You kinky thing!” Giggled Daisy to her friend.

We carried on discussing stuff until the subject was exhausted and we finally had a rough inkling of each of our feelings about it. I was pleased to learn that the article seriously offended nobody and the consensus seemed to be, ‘live and let live’.
When Bea and I chatted about it later she cautioned me.

“Don’t consider this as’open sesame’. What they say may not exactly reflect how they’ll react. Lucinda, I trust but Gert and Daisy are gossips.”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed, “just leave the magazine on the study table for Melanie to see when she comes in.”

“I have done. Look, there she is now.”

Melanie arrived and dumped a shopping bag on the table. She took out some biscuits and a tin of cocoa before displaying a lovely new frilly pair of panties.

“Ooohh! They’re nice,” declared Charlotte, don’t let Miss Warburton catch you wearing them.”

“They’re for the hols. I just couldn’t resist them.”

As she slipped the panties back into the bag she spied the magazine on the table. Because it wasn’t being read, she took it and slid into one of the armchairs. Within minutes she came across the article and gave out a soft giggle.

“Have you seen this?” She asked generally.

We all chorused yes which was a bit of a give-away. Melanie caught the mood and grinned.

“Well don’t all look at me! I’m a girl, not ‘a chick with a dick’.”

“Would you go to bed with her?” Asked Daisy.

“Would you?” Countered Melanie defensively.

Daisy fell silent then wagged her head.

“No I like my boys strong and handsome.”

“Well I don’t,” replied Melanie, “if I had a boy, he’d have to be like her.”

“Are you serious?” Gasped Beatrice.

“Yeah. Why not? She’s pretty.”

“I thought you were a lezzy!” Squeaked Charlotte.

“I am! But she’s really pretty. I bet any boy would fancy her until they got her into bed. She looks like a girl, she probably walks like a girl and she probably talks like a girl. It’s the duck thing.”

“Some duck,” I added briefly.

Melanie turned and grinned at me.”

“Why, do you fancy her as well?”

I thought for a moment as I chose my words carefully.

“I like her girlyness but the dick thing, I don’t know about that. I’m not sure yet.”

“Well don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” giggled Lucinda.

“Why. Have you?” Gasped Daisy, ever the noseyiest of we six friends.

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it,“ grinned Lucy with an enigmatic smile.

“Huh! I don’t believe you have,” challenged Gert.

And so the conversation bounced around the study as we all revealed some quite intimate aspects of our fantasies. By the end of the evening, Beatrice and I were feeling a lot easier about Melanie learning of my ‘problem’. Several times we had exchanged knowing glances as we recognised potential issues that would apply to my ‘condition’ should the others ever find out. As we elected to wash the cups, Beatrice and I chatted again in the little kitchen at the end of the corridor that served all the dormitories.

“Do you think Mel could handle finding out?” Whispered Bea.

“She seems to be giving out the right signals. I never thought she would be so open about her lezzy thing.”

“I know why that is,” added Bea, “she was speaking to Lucy and me a few days ago and asking us if we were upset about her being gay. I let Lucinda speak for us and she seemed pretty OK about it.

“Lucy said so long as she, Melanie that is, and you don’t rub our faces in it, she was pretty OK about it.”

“I added as long as you didn’t frighten the horses it was OK. This made Melanie lighten up a lot.”

“So what did Melanie say?” I pressed.

“Well, Melanie almost burst into tears when she realised we weren’t upset by it. She gave us a huge hug and promised never to rub our noses in it.”

“Or frighten the horses,” I giggled.

“Who’s frightening the horses?”

A voice sounded behind us.

We both froze as we recognised Dorcas the Prefect’s voice.

“Heck! How long have you been there?” Squawked Beatrice.

“I hope this isn’t some stupid prank in the stables.” Charged Dorcas censoriously.

“No. It’s nothing like that. We were talking figuratively.

“Well you’d better get back to your study figuratively, it’s after lights out. Or the only horses you’ll be frightening will be mares, - nightmares. Aren’t some of you up early in the morning for the visit to Stratford on Avon?”

“Not us,” replied Bea, “that’s the other three, Gertrude, Daisy and Lucinda.”

“Well you’ll disturb their sleep if your wandering around here like this. Go on now! Bed!” Ordered Dorcas.

We gathered our mugs and scuttled back down the corridor to our study dormitory. Dorcas was our landing prefect, she was a kindly girl really, all bark and no bite. Unlike some of the senior prefects, she had not let her authority go to her head and she served more as a mother confessor to the younger girls. Miss Frobisher had been right to appoint Dorcas as head girl and therefore above all the other prefects. Dorcas tended to moderate any extreme behaviour or bullying by other prefects. We were all fond of her and grateful she was our landing prefect in addition to the house captain and head girl.

Back in our dormitory, we slipped into our beds and soon after the lights were out I felt a familiar body slide into my bed. Fortunately, our sleeping cubicles were fairly private affairs. The bed resembled a ship’s bunk with lockers overhead and a wardrobe at the end. The gangway had a study desk that looked out of a window. On the opposite wall sat a small settee and some more cupboards. All six cubicles opened out onto the common study area where there was a large table and six armchairs. The ‘en suite’ bathroom formed the side of the passage onto the main corridor. There were no cooking facilities because of the fire hazard, but the whole dormitory shared a kitchen at one end of the corridor near the landing prefect’s study. With stairs and landings at each end of every dormitory, there was little risk from fire.

I slid aside as the visitor slipped between my sheets and Melanie sighed as her soft curvy hips pressed invitingly against mine.

“Mmmm. Hello darling. Are you horny?” She asked.

“A bit, are you?” I replied.

“Mmmm. Those pictures of that shemale made me excited.”

“Really,” I giggled.

“Did they turn you on?” Asked Mel.

I recognised Mel’s clumsy attempts to investigate my sexuality and I smiled inwardly.

“A bit.”

“But would you like it if boys were like that; all soft and curvy.”

“Like us girls, you mean.” I added as my hopes rose higher. ‘Maybe this might be a good time to tell her,’ I thought.

“Well, - yes, - like us.” Finished Mel.

“Are you serious. Did you really fancy that she-male?”

“I’m not totally sure. But it would be nice to try that stuff out.”

“What stuff?” I persevered.

“Well, - the cock thing.”

“What? You mean a cock, a real cock inside you.”

“Well, a she-male’s cock; some nice soft curvy girl with a nice stiff little cock. If I went with a boy, it would have to be soft curvy a boy like her.”

My heart beat faster as I wrestled with my hopes.

‘Could this really be the time to reveal my boy clitty?’ I asked myself. My body screamed yes! Yes! Yes! But long years of fear and suppression echoed down my youthful years to caution not yet! Not! Not yet!
Melanie might find my boy clitty fascinating at first, but would she accept me into her life forever. Would I just be a pretty plaything and then thrown away after she had tired of the novelty of my boy clitty?’

Discretion finally won the argument raging in my mind. I retreated into just doing our usual stuff and pleasing Melanie enough to satisfy her needs. Then we fell into our usual embrace and were soon lost to the world.

Once Melanie had orgasmed she invariably fell into a deep sleep that always meant that I woke first. For me this was a useful protection. It meant that Melanie never woke up to find me sleeping and vulnerable to any uninvited ‘exploration’. Waking up before Melanie also meant I could lie still as I savoured her long golden hair spread across my pillow. Yes, Melanie was a beautiful girl and I never wanted to lose her. How, oh how, could I reveal my secret and still keep Melanie loyal to me?
For the next couple of months, Beatrice and I chatted long and hard about the she-male stuff. We all knew that fantasies were very different from reality. Maybe Melanie did fantasise about them but what about the real thing. In March we celebrated Melanie’s fourteenth birthday and that night she begged me to go further.

“As a birthday present to me,” she begged.

“Not until I’m fourteen. It’s wrong to do it too early.”

I was beginning to regret my promise to give her my cherry on my fourteenth birthday but then a ray of light burst through the approaching cloud of uncertainty.

One morning in April, I slipped into Melanie’s cubicle to fetch some notes we needed for our year project.

“They’re under my pillow,” she instructed, “I was going over them last night.”

Without further ado, I slipped up to our dormitory to collect the notes. As I lifted her pillow a whole bundle of magazine pictures slid out of an exercise book so I gathered them up to replace them. I couldn’t help but notice they were pictures of she-males. Melanie must have been collecting them and pasting them into her scrapbook. Furthermore she had been writing notes under the pictures already glued in. A short study of some of the remarks told me everything I needed to know. It appeared Melanie was besotted with she-males.

I was just about to carefully replace the scrapbook as though it hadn’t been disturbed when Melanie appeared breathless and frightened in the doorway. Her face went crimson when she realised I must have seen the scrapbook.

“Oh shit. I thought I’d locked that in my desk!”

“Here take it,” I offered.

“Have you read it?” She asked tremulously.

“Some of it.”

“Are you angry?”

“No. You said you were curious about them.”

“Yes, but, -“

“But what?” I interrupted.

“Well, - it’s just that, - well, you know. I’d like to go with one but I think you’d feel betrayed.”

“I’d feel betrayed if you went with any boy. I thought it was just you and me.”

“Oh it is Martie, it is! But you know, for once, just as an experiment, I’d like to know what it’s like sleeping with a she-male.”

“And what then? What if you find you like it? What if she makes you pregnant?”

“Wha -! Pregnant!” Gasped Melanie. “How can they make you pregnant?”

“Well some of them can. Some of them produce sperm.”

Melanie fell silent then stared at me.

“How do you know? How do you know about she-males?”

I felt my self go cold. I had just revealed that I knew more about she-males than a thirteen-year-old girl had a right to know. I pretended ignorance.

“Well, -“ I hesitated feigning uncertainty.

“Well, they, - they’re boys aren’t they. They’ve got cocks.”

“Yeah,” smirked Melanie knowingly, “but they can’t make you pregnant. They have to take hormones to make their tits grow and stuff.”

I didn’t argue, although I knew better. I knew for a fact that the strict regimen of hormones I was taking was designed
precisely to prevent sterility. Doctor Sandie had repeatedly cautioned me to avoid penetrative sex because up until my vasectomy, I had been fertile. Even now, though my tubes were blocked off, my balls were still making stuff. I feigned ignorance and let Melanie elaborate.

“The hormones make she-males sterile, and some of them can’t even get it erect.”

“That’s not what I saw in your scrapbook.” I countered.

For a moment Melanie became silent with embarrassment. My discovery of her scrapbook had un-nerved her slightly.

“Yeah, well maybe some can, but they’re still sterile. The hormones shrink their balls.”

“Well sterile or not, I would be hurt if you two-timed me and went with one.”

At this declaration I turned the taps on and pretended to be hugely wounded at the thought of betrayal. Immediately, Melanie was all contrition and concern as she hugged me to her and kissed me passionately.

“OK then, I’ll be loyal to you then. But what if I grow up to want children?” She asked nervously.

“What! You want children!” I gasped. “Do you like babies?”

Melanie fell silent with uncertainty. Then nodded apologetically.

“Yes. I may be gay, but I’d love to have a family and be a mother when I’m older.”

”But you’d have to sleep with a man for that.”

“No I wouldn’t. I could go to a sperm bank.”

Her answer flummoxed me for I hadn’t thought of that. My jaw fell as I pictured Melanie using a ‘turkey baster’ to make herself pregnant. Then the image amused me and I smiled.

“What’s so funny?” Demanded Melanie.

“The idea of you with a turkey baster up your pussy.”

“That’s stupid. You don’t use a turkey baster! The doctors do it with a special syringe. You only use a turkey baster if you get a man to supply his sperm and you do it yourself, straight away.”

“Oh.” I sniggered. “So which man are you considering?”

“Don’t be daft Martie. If I do have babies, it’ll be years away yet. We’d need to have jobs and a house and stuff.”

Her suggestion of a long-term viewpoint changed my mood. The idea of living as Melanie’s permanent spouse was very attractive. I collected the notes I had come for and Melanie locked away her scrapbook as we returned to the library. Later that same day I told Beatrice that Melanie wanted children when she was older.
Beatrice chuckled but agreed that; ‘after all, Melanie was a girl and would grow up to be a women. Lesbians were still women and could therefore have womanly desires.’

I shrugged non-committedly but secretly I was ecstatic. If Melanie wanted children, I would be more than keen to give her mine.

‘Roll on that day’, I thought.

“D’you think she’s ready to find out about me?” I asked Bea.

“D’you think it’s the right time?” Countered Bea uncertainly.

“They say if now isn’t the right time then there’s never a right time.”

It was Bea’s turn to shrug. Over the past few months she and I had explored just about every aspect and asked ourselves every question. Not to mention having discussed it with our parents and older sisters. At the end of the day, it was all down to me, despite my tender age. As my May birthday approached, the load seemed to be getting heavier. That was the last time Bea and I discussed the issues at length and the last few weeks to my birthday raced by. In no time at all, the day arrived and with it the night.

Needless to say, Melanie was on tenterhooks that day. Apart from the birthday celebrations and the attendant fun in our study, Melanie had the night to look forward to. At lights out she was positively bubbling with anticipation and the other girls were also bursting with excitement. Our secret agreement to ‘pop my cherry’ on my fourteenth birthday’ had somehow leaked out amongst my friends. Fortunately, they had the tact and sense to keep it a secret within our study. The last thing any of us wanted was a crowd of sensationalists crowding into our dorm. My heart was thumping with fear as I finally crawled into my bed. It was not long before Melanie appeared in my cubicle and slipped into bed beside me.

“Hello gorgeous,” she whispered, “are your ready?”

“Not really,” I replied as the tremor in my voice betrayed my fears.

“There’s no need to be frightened. I won’t hurt you.” Reassured Melanie.

“Promise you wont be angry if you’re upset by my condition.” I begged in as soft a whisper as my fear would allow.

“So what is your ‘condition?” Queried Mel as she gently embraced me and kissed me passionately.

“Promise you won’t be angry or upset,” I begged more forcefully.

“Oh all right then. I won’t scream or anything. Now come on, slip out of your all-in-one.”

“Like you’ll show me yours if I show you mine,” I giggled.

For an answer, Melanie slipped her baby-doll over her shoulders and lay beside me with only her briefest panties offering the minimum of protection. I hesitated for a moment then slowly loosened the ribbon ties of my sleep-suit and slowly peeled it down my body.

“Don’t be angry,” I beseeched her one last time, “I’m a bit odd down there so don’t rush me.”

“Oh come on darling. Stop messing about, you promised me this on your birthday. Of course I won’t be angry.”

I squirmed a bit more and finally slipped my all-in-one down over my ankles and kicked it down to the bottom of my bed. Now came the crunch. I gently grasped Melanie’s fingers and slowly led them onto the front panel of my support panties. Melanie sighed softly.

“Well at last! I finally get to first base. Are you going to take them off or what?”

I hesitated for a few moments but Melanie was being patient. She had waited for nearly two years so a few more minutes was not going to make any difference. She giggled softly and gently fingered the lower part of my support, control panties.

“Mmm. Yours seems softer and squidgier than the other girls. Is that why you’ve been so frightened?”

“Yes.” I replied. “I’m a bit different from other girls.”

“Well come on then darling. We’re all different one way or another. Shall I take them off?”

“No. I’ll do it.”

So saying, I slowly slipped my thumbs inside my waistband and tugged hard to draw the panties over my hips and down my legs.
As I bent my knees, I slipped the panties off my feet and slipped them between the wall and my mattress. Then I finally straightened my legs again and hesitated nervously.

“Come on then, what are we waiting for?”

“I said don’t rush me. I’m nervous.

So saying. I caught Melanie’s exploratory fingers and restrained them briefly before slowly leading Melanie’s hand towards my sex. My fear prevented my boy clitty from responding at first and Melanie’s fingers groped uncertainly as she failed to recognise my folded boy-clitty nestling backwards between my thighs.
For several moments she fingered my ‘boy-clitty’ then mumbled her confusion.

“Your clitty,” she whispered. It’s sort of bigger and squidgey than the others.”

“That’s because it is bigger and squidgier than the others.” I replied. “Here give me your hand again.”

As I lay on my back I gently teased my boy-clitty from my crotch and gently placed Melanie’s curious fingers around it.

“Gosh!” She gasped. It is big isn’t it?”

“Your not upset are you?” I begged.

“No. It must be weird having such a big clitty. Can I see it?”

“Not yet. I’m a bit sensitive about it.”

“Does it go like a nubbin when you’re horny?” Persisted Melanie.

“Do you want to see,” I giggled as I felt myself stirring.

“You bet,” giggled Mel as her fingers sensed the first stiffening of the shaft.

I gently humped against her fingers and she squeaked.

“Heck. It is getting bigger. It must be like a boy’s thing. Is that why you’ve been so afraid?”

“Yes.” I replied. “It gets so big, it’s embarrassing and it tents my knickers.”

Melanie’s fingers adjusted as my boy-clitty grew and she gasped softly.

“Please can I look at it?”

“I’d rather not. Not just yet anyway, you can look at her another time. I still feel embarrassed by her.”

“Her?”

“Well that’s how I describe her. She’s my best friend but she could get me into trouble if the other girls saw her.”

Melanie squeezed and fingered my stiffening clitty and gasped again.

“Gosh Martie! It’s huge. It’s like a boys thing. It, - it comes up your belly!”

“That’s why I’ve been so afraid. Think what the other girls would say. I just couldn’t bear it.”

Melanie’s fingers squeezed and fingered my boy clitty then she started to explore underneath. I immediately restrained her fingers again.

“No. Not down there. Not yet. I’m not ready. You might break my hymen or something.”

Melanie gave a soft sigh of disappointment but she proved to be a good friend. She respected my wishes and accepted my fears so her fingers returned to my strange super-sized clitty.
As she gently squeezed and stroked my friend, I felt my juices beginning to boil. I knew she would immediately realise my giant clitty was actually a cockette if I ejaculated so I gently removed her fingers and gasped as I half turned away. Fortunately my box of tissues was handy down my side of the mattress against the wall and I skilfully plucked a handful to make a pad. As my orgasm started to explode, I let out a whimper of delight and humped urgently. Melanie recognised my climax and squeezed my soft rounded butt close to her tummy as I gasped and panted. My orgasm was of course, quick and explosive, but I managed to keep hold of my wits and made pretence of a longer climax, just as Melanie would have had.
Eventually, I recovered my senses and deftly tucked the tissue pad down the side of the mattress. Then I struggled to pull my panties back on and tucked my boy clitty backwards before I half turned again to Melanie. I then made a show of selecting more tissues and probing down my panties in pretence of wiping my juices from my pussy. Melanie giggled softly.

“Are you a juicy Lucy too?”

I nodded as I leant across her and flicked the second tissue into my waste bin.

“I’ll put it down the pan later,” I declared, “now d’you want me to see to you?”

“Mmmm, yes please, but I’m not shy. You can look if you want.”

“D’you want me to, - you know, - tongue you down there.”

“No, just your fingers, I’m horny enough.”

I followed Melanie’s request and commenced gently fingering her stiff little bud. She humped urgently against my fingers and occasionally directed my hand as she ‘used’ me for her own ends. Eventually, she let out a long low moan and wrapped her legs around mine as she humped my thigh. I felt her juices flowing against me and gathered the towel that Melanie had thoughtfully brought. Without disturbing her rhythm, I gently tucked the towel underneath us and saved my sheets from Melanie’s juices.
Finally, Melanie arched her back and groaned as her body achieved her desired aim. I squeezed her tight until her needs subsided then we stroked each other’s breasts as we chatted softly.

“You’re still very shy, aren’t you?” Whispered Mel.

“Yes,” I replied softly, “just give me time. I look like a boy down there, that’s why I was frightened.”

“How big does it get?” She pressed.

“Nearly to my tummy button.”

“Gosh. That’s weird. You could use it like a boy.”

“That’s why I’m embarrassed by it.”

“There’s no need to be. You can’t help being made differently.”

“You’re only saying that to please me. I don’t think the others would think like that.”

“Well being gay means I’m more tolerant, because I’m made differently as well, - inside here.”

Melanie tapped her head and I nodded sagely.

“Yeah. I sighed. You’re like a boy in your head, and I’m like a boy in my knickers. We’re a right pair aren’t we?”

Melanie giggled again then inveigled her legs between mine and hugged me eagerly. I gently wrapped an arm around her waist and snuggled up close as we kissed passionately. Then we spooned ourselves together and fell asleep.
In the morning neither of us heard Gertrude, Daisy and Lucinda leaving early for the Shakespearean play. Beatrice found us still sleeping and she tapped me softly on the shoulder. I stirred and yawned as Beatrice loomed over me. Melanie was still asleep.

“How was it?” She whispered to me.

I turned and mouthed silently. ‘She doesn’t know yet.’

Beatrice’s brow furrowed with confusion and she stood back uncertainly. By now Melanie was awake and turned to grin as she found Beatrice looking over us. Beatrice was fully cognisant of Melanie’s sexuality and Melanie felt no qualms about being found in my bed by Beatrice. Beatrice was however, still a bit confused by my silent declaration so she took the lead.

“Can I speak to my sister for a moment, Mel? There’s something I need to discuss.”

“What’s it about?” Asked Mel.

“Oh it’s family stuff. There’s a birthday coming up.”

Melanie took Bea at her word and took her cue to slip into the shower. The moment her back was turned, Beatrice pitched into me.

“What d’you mean, she doesn’t know? Didn’t you do it?”

“Not all the way.” I replied.

“Did you do anything?”

“Well. Yes. She felt my stiffy.”

“What! You mean she got her hands on it?”

“Yes.”

“So what else?”

“Not a lot. I turned away and shot my load into a tissue pad. Mel just accepts that I’m shy and nervous.”

“But, - surely she recognised it.”

“I don’t think so. She just thinks I’ve got a sort of deformed clitty and that’s why I’ve always been shy about it. When

I asked her to stop, she just stopped and went no further. She’s awfully kind and considerate.”

“So what about the next time, when she wants to go further?”

“I’ll take it slowly.”

“But she’s got to know.” Charged Beatrice. “If she find’s out the wrong way, she could be really angry or feel hurt.”

“So what’s the ‘wrong way’?”

“Well, - I don’t know.

“Do you think I should just come right out and tell her?”

“I don’t know. How should I know?”

“I could join her in the shower now and let her see her.”

“Her?” Wondered Beatrice aloud. “Who’s ‘her?”

“My boy clitty, my cock.” I replied.

“Why d’you call it her?”

“It makes me feel more feminine in here.”

I tapped my head and Beatrice smiled before rolling her eyes.

“Oh Martie! You’re incorrigible. Her indeed! Fancy calling a cock her!”

“So. What’s in a name? Now. Do you think I should join her in there?”

“I’d better come into the bathroom with you. I’ll wait outside the shower cubicle in case she throws a wobbler.”

“I don’t think she’ll be that upset. She’s really curious about she-males anyway.”

“There’s a huge difference between looking at one in a magazine and sharing a shower with one.” Cautioned Bea.

“Well. Now’s our best chance, while the others are away

With the other three roommates away we could spend all Sunday in the shower if we wanted. We had plenty of time to resolve any issues. I was still nervous though and tapped hesitantly on the shower door.

“Who’s there,” answered Melanie boldly.

“It’s me, Martie. Can I join you?”

There was a soft gasp of obvious anticipation then the door opened a bit and Mel peered out.

“What! You want to join me in here?” She asked.

“Please. I think it would be nice to go a little bit further.”

“Well be my guest darling!” Squealed Melanie as the door opened to reveal her full frontal nudity and a huge smile.

“Turn around and don’t peep.” I begged.

She turned obediently, for she obvious recognised my shyness. I un-tucked the large bath towel from around my fulsome breasts and slipped in behind her. She felt my rounded globes press into her back and she shuddered with anticipation. I gently reached around her soapy body and ran my hands up and down her front before gently cupping her nipples. Already they were stiffening.

“Is this nice?” I whispered.

“Mmmmm, yes,” whispered Melanie hoarsely as her needs began to stir. She squirmed her soft rounded rump against me and my nipples stiffed urgently. Melanie recognised the familiar ‘prodding’ of my two bullet stiff nipples and she giggled.
“Mmmm. You’re horny too.”

For an answer I gently turned her to face me then slowly guided her hand down to my boy-clitty. She felt the soft squidgey tube of flesh and fingered it eagerly as she felt it slowly stiffening. However, we were pressed so close together, that our tits blocked any view and her head simply rested against my shoulder as her fingers busied themselves.

“Mmmmm it’s growing again. It feels really strange!”

Then I felt her stiffen slightly as my boy-clitty gently grew to it’s full, erect potential. I was not sure what her silence signalled.

‘Was she nervous’ I asked myself. ‘Was she frightened, was she angry?’

I felt her fingers squeezing and testing my boy-clitty until she pulled slightly away from me and looked into my eyes.

“It feels really nice, kind of stiff and velvety. Can I look at it?” She pleaded softly.

“Promise me you’ll not be upset.” I begged.

For an answer, she kissed me hungrily on the lips and pressed the soft curve of her tummy against my boy-clitty. I could not resist ‘humping’ gently against her tummy and she sighed happily.

“Could you use that like a boy’s cock?” She asked.

“Probably,” I replied, “though I’ve always been too scared. Other girls would be horrified. Promise me you won’t be angry.”

“Mmmm. OK then. Now can I see it?”

Nervously I separated from her embrace and made enough space between us for Melanie to look down. Her gaze lowered to her hands and she slowly lowered herself to he knees.

“Gosh! It’s just like a boy’s cock. How did it grow like that?”

I hesitated again before finally plucking up the courage.

“It, - it uuuhhm, - it is a cock.”

Melanie froze for a moment then her fingers busied themselves as she studied the erection closely. Her eyes and fingers finally buried themselves under the root of my newfound delight and she squealed as her hands cupped my little pink scrotum. Curious fingers tested my testicles and I flinched nervously. Finally Melanie recovered her wits as the whole truth hit her.

“Eeek! It is! It is a cock!”

Melanie stood up again and stared excitedly into my eyes.

“Promise me it is a cock. It is isn’t it?”

I sagged with relief. Melanie did not appear to be angry.

“Yes. It is. You’re not upset are you?”

“Angry! No! Shocked, well, - yes. How long have you been living as a girl?”

“Since I was about six or seven.”

“Golly! Does Beatrice know?”

A ‘Yes’ came a voice from outside the shower cubicle as Beatrice answered the question for me.
Melanie squealed and flung open the shower door to reveal our intimate embrace to Bea. Beatrice’s huge grin conveyed her relief that Melanie did not appear to be angry or disgusted.

“How long have you known?” Squealed Melanie.

“I’ve always known, since before Martie became a boy-girl.”

“You mean a she-male.” Corrected Melanie.

“Well. Yes, but we’ve always thought of her as a girl. Her little secret is a very special family thing.”

“So nobody else knows.” Checked Melanie.

“Well, - Chenille and Jennifer know, and our mummies.”

“What about the teachers?” Pressed Mel.

“Miss Frobisher knows, and Mrs Warburton, the matron. Oh! And Miss Smith the riding instructor knows and the gym mistresses, in case there is an accident or something.”

“So none of the other girls know.” Demanded Melanie.

“No,” I replied. “Now, shall we have a shower?”

“What! All three of us?” Squeaked Melanie.

I hadn’t meant ‘all three of us, but the idea pleased me and the cubicle was big enough.

“If you like,” I replied, “but I was thinking just you and me, you know-.”

I gently humped my eager boy-clitty against her tummy again and Melanie gasped as her needs overtook her embarrassment. Then she froze again.

“Wait! Does it, - Does it you know, does it work? Can it make me pregnant?”

“Uuuh. No.” Replied Beatrice firmly. Martie’s had a vasectomy.”

“Ah! You poor thing! So you’ll never be a daddy.” Soothed Melanie.

“Oh it’s not that serious,” replied Bea, “Doctor Jamie says it can easily be reversed. Her tubes haven’t even been cut, just blocked.”

Melanie looked up into my eyes again and smiled happily.

“So I’ve got my very own female she-male.”

“Only if you keep it a secret,” I cautioned. “Miss Frobisher will have to expel me if there’s ever any scandal. She had one hell of a job persuading the governors that I look like a girl, walk like a girl and talk like a girl.”
Melanie grinned again.

“The duck thing again. I think I’ll call you Ducky from now on.”

Beatrice let out a snort of amusement at the ‘theatrical lovies’ term of endearment.

“Oh that’s good Melanie. Ducky. Yes, that really suit’s her.”

I was too horny to care what they called me. My boy-clitty was now bursting for relief and I groaned softly before Melanie grasped the situation.

“Oh Gosh. Just look at you, all horned up and nowhere to go.”

“I know where I’d like to go,” I gasped as I humped inquisitively against Melanie’s delightfully soft smooth tummy.
Melanie let out a giggle then sighed happily.

“Come on then. Let’s get dried and do it in bed. I’ll be more comfortable there. D’you want to come Bea?”

“What,” squeaked Bea, “and just watch, you mean.”

“You can join us if you want.”

Beatrice looked at me.

“Would you want that Martie; all three of us together?”

For a moment I was dumbstruck. ‘Surely Bea would not want to make a threesome!’ I thought. Then I thought back. Chenille, Jenny, Beatrice and I had all slept together in our ‘all-in-ones’ nearly every night of our lives back at the cottage. Doing it naked was just the next logical step.

“Do you really want to?” I asked her.

“I’ve always wondered what you’d be like without your sleep-suit and control panties.” Declared Bea boldly. “Yes, I’d love to try you out.”

“Well this is just the most perfect weekend.” Declared Melanie, “Gerty, Daisy and Lucinda will be away till Sunday at the play in Stratford on Avon.”

We all giggled excitedly as Mel and I dried off. Then we bundled into Beatrice’s cubicle. It was the best one for sharing a bed because her bunk had an extra wide shelf by the old outer stonewall from the days when the long draughty dormitories had been altered to make smaller six bed study units. Bea had the smallest window but a wider bed.