This is the first new chapter of Martina's story, I've extended it for big closet like I did for Skipper.

It records the girls Melanie, Beatrice and Martina's first term in college in London.

Hope y'all like it..
Beverly.<>

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Martina’s Story 8.

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 she-male 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.

Baroness Wemite’ Sian’s old School Chum

Peter Baroness Wemite’s son

Melanie Baroness Wemite’s daughter and my friend.

Rosemary & Monika. Two bullies in the junior school.

Chrissie My older step sister.

For those readers who wish to get a deeper insight and appreciation of my home circumstances, I suggest that they read Skipper, the story about Aunty Beverly’s rescue and adoption of Jennifer and Beatrice. This is a ‘follow on story’ about my childhood. It starts chronologically after Aunty Beverly finally married Aunty Angela. Some people might disapprove of our life style but I like it, as do my sisters, my mothers and my aunts.

The story of my school days ended with chapter 7 and now I write of my days at college.

Some say that college broadens the horizons and well it might but for us three it brought unusual circumstances during our first year when we lodged in the college halls of residence. Firstly the warden proved to be a narrow minded censorious old woman from the old school and although she could not technically deny us seeing each other, she invented every trick in the book to make our lives more difficult.

It started the very first day when we arrived to find this blue-rinse individual in twin set and fake pearls studying the new list of students. After much politicking and canvassing I had managed to get the college authorities to leave the little box for ‘sex’ blank and this lady had immediately picked up on it. She was waiting for me even as I stepped out of Aunty Beverly’s Landrover.
“Young lady, I see on your form that you have not ticked the box to indicate your gender.”

“That’s correct.”

“Do you want me to tick it for you now?”

“No.”

“Why ever not?”

Whatever for?”

“Well young lady you must have a gender.”

“Must I?”

At this she stared at me and frowned.

“If you don’t have a gender how will people relate to you?”

“However they wish.”

“Well this is a ladies hall of residence so you’ll have to put down female.”

“I’ll put down nothing. I am registered as female purely for social convenience and for beauracracy to function. What would you do if I suddenly changed sex?”

“Don’t be silly young lady; nobody has sudden changes of sex.”

“They might if their sex is indeterminate.”

At this she became unsure for now she had invaded my privacy. It was not for her to try to determine what lay under my skirt or to draw any conclusions from it if she ever did find anything. The only person who could conclude anything about my gender was me! and I resolutely refused to be pigeon-holed. At eighteen, I now had that absolute right. Well, in my mind I had that human and moral right even if the law stupidly denied me the legal right. As far as I was concerned, I could be whatever gender I wanted, where I wanted and when I wanted.

For my own peace of mind, I presented externally as a girl because I preferred a girl’s life. They had much more freedom to express themselves in the external sense, they had a freer reign with their emotions, they had far greater choices of clothing, they could be flamboyant in their life-styles, they could metaphorically and literally ‘let their hair down’ without, or at least with less censure or threat of violence. It was true they faced greater dangers of assault and more importantly rape, but it behoved everybody to take precautions in such circumstances. Stay sober, stay with trusted friends and choose the safe way home. This really applied to all the sexes.

The only time I felt like a boy was when providing happiness for Beatrice and Melanie, and even this was strictly within the parameters of our deepest intimacies.

This was my chosen life-style and I resented come censorious busy-body invading it. As far as I was concerned, the tick in the gender box would remain unfilled.

We three moved into the hall of residence but we were not allocated the same flat. The warden had been doing her research and in her own febrile mind she saw our lifelong intimacy as some sort of assault on the university’s reputation, the hall of residence’s reputation and her own reputation. She deliberately allocated us rooms separated by floors and she made no secret of it.
It was two weeks before we managed to sort out her mess and it caused some resentment with other pupils who had started to form friendships when they were unexpectedly separated to accommodate our, and, more particularly, my needs. It would never have done to leave me sharing with new girls who had no idea of my condition.

It also highlighted the fact that one of the new girls had a ‘some sort of a problem’.

These issues soon gain notoriety in a close knit community and it was not long before I was getting funny looks and hearing sniggers whenever I stepped out.

Then came the mid-term college ball. Mel, Bea and I decided to go; we could not keep ourselves holed up forever in our flat even if we did have little reason to leave it except for lectures and meals. The Saturday before the ball we did the rounds of the charity shops in Chelsea and Knightsbridge to see what we could see. We ended up with a beautiful selection of ball gowns. I had a beautiful scarlet gown with a single ‘over the shoulder’ feature that perfectly reflected my mood. I wanted to appear ‘vampish’ but simultaneously modest. The full petticoated skirt also served to make sure that there would be no telltale bulges.

Beatrice and Mel bought green and blue body hugging arrangements with hobble hems. It forced them to ‘wiggle’ outrageously as we slipped in through a side door and avoided the grand steps that led onto the dance-floor.
I have to admit we all three looked stunning and even though we had made our entrance as low key as possible, it wasn’t long before the bees came buzzing around the honey pots.

We had chosen a table at the back of the hall to try and avoid drawing attention to ourselves for our sexual orientations were such that we had no interest in boys. We had each other, what more could we want.
Despite our efforts to remain ‘low key’ it’s hard to avoid boys if your three stunning ‘lookers’. A constant stream of hopefuls found some reason to approach our modest four chaired table because it was close to the bar and the toilets. No we had not been put there by some malicious hostess, we had chosen the low status table to avoid just such constant attentions. Nevertheless we had a stream of hopeful ‘suitors’ come to ask for a dance.

Now all three of us love to dance and though I say it myself, we are all three good movers and shakers on the dance-floor. Eventually the music infected our bones so we picked our way through the shadows and stepped out onto the dance floor. Naturally we chose a corner close to our table but once the music started then lookout.

The disc-jockey was an expert at getting things moving and he kept a sharp eye on the floor to judge the mood. It wasn’t long before he spotted us giving it large as we jived away furiously. Though I have to say it again, we make a good trio on the floor, I dance the man’s part while Mel and Bea work away furiously one to each hand. Jive is one of the few dances that enables this and that’s why we like rock and roll music.

Soon many eyes were coveting us and we had to keep a tight hold on each other as we strove to avoid the unwelcome advances. After watching us intently for several minutes, the disc jockey seemed to realise that we weren’t interested in boys. He chose a couple of gay anthems that we instantly recognised and I flashed a smile as I mouthed ‘thank you’ to him across the floor. When we three and several others remained dancing to ‘I am what I am,’ it wrote the message large and clear.
After a furious finale, we three minced to our table and slumped contentedly in our chairs.
“Well I enjoyed that but my bloody heels are killing me,” Mel sighed as she went to sip her drink.
A voice from the shadows caught our attention.

“Don’t drink that juice girl, it’s been spiked!”

Mel’s hand froze midway between table and lips then she lowered the drink slowly as we turned to face the voice. The voice’s table was even deeper in the shadows than ours.

“Who are you?” Bea asked as we slowly made out a very slender girl with a beautiful gold ‘off the shoulder gown’ and a long French twist of rich, glossy, brown hair that plunged far below her waist. Even sitting down we could see it almost reaching the floor and it glowed with a beautiful sheen. The girl was stunning.

“I’m Jeanette and I just saw those sickos over there spike all your drinks while you were dancing.”

“Dammit, is nobody safe?” cursed Mel as she went to throw the drinks away.

“Don’t do that,” the girl cautioned as she stood up to her six foot one inches in her heels, “that’s evidence. May I join you?”

“By all means darling, please, we’d be delighted.” I replied.

As she swayed over we all realised from her slender hips and large feet that Jeanette was either a very beautiful transvestite or transsexual. Being as I was the one who had invited her, I stood up and offered her a hug and a kiss. She took my invitation gladly and I savoured her embrace for several seconds before Bea giggled.

“Put her down Marty, you don’t know where she’s been.”

As I finally released myself from Jeanette’s embrace I smiled and looked her up and down.

“You’ve been walking the walk, haven’t you love?” I observed.

A small tear of gratitude glinted in her deep brown eyes then she nodded and sighed wistfully.

“Yes.”

“Well your welcome here at this table, take the weight of your heels lovely.” Added Bea as she and Mel slid their chairs apart to return the fourth chair that we had been forced to push back to deter unwanted ‘jocks’ inviting themselves to our table.
Jeanette lowered herself with practiced grace that was not too exaggerated and with a fluidity that bespoke years of practice. We all three smiled at her as she delicately opened her purse to take a tissue to repair the damage caused by the single tear.
Here was a girl who had to work hard to maintain her immaculate appearance but she was extremely successful.

“So what course are you on,” Mel asked as I returned to the bar to purchase fresh drinks.

“Chemistry as main and art as subsidiary.”

“Gosh! That’s an unusual combination if you don’t mind me saying so,” Bea replied.

“I’m hoping to work in make-up research; I’ve just finished my gap year in Paris.”

She did not mention the firm but I finally detected and recognised the delicate fragrance of an expensive French perfume and concluded that she might have worked for that prestigious firm. I silently applauded her for not ‘name-dropping’.
Beatrice was less reserved as she complimented Jeanette.

“You should have been a model in Paris with your looks and height.”

Jeanette smiled wistfully and replied.

“No such luck, wrong start in life.”

We all nodded knowingly, sipped our new drinks and chatted until some more suitable jive music struck up. I glanced towards the disc jockey who was looking pointedly towards our table and squinting hopefully. He knew we were deep in the shadows somewhere by the bar. Eventually he spotted us and motioned urgently as he spotted Jeanette.

“He wants’ to speak to you.” Jeanette remarked.

“What about?”

“Me probably, the college T girl. He’ll probably try to warn you or something. They usually do.”

We all giggled as Mel stroked Jeanette’s long slender arm.

“We already know that darling and a stunningly attractive one you are.”

“I think he’s just trying to get the dance-floor active again; it’s gone a bit quiet.”

“Go and see what he wants Marty.”

Reluctantly I finished my drink, (we were only drinking fruit-juices,) and glided over to the disc-jockey’s deck and podium.

“What’s up, d’you want us to get up again?”

“Yes, you’re good movers. You know who you’re talking to don’t you. That’s Jeanette and she’s a tranny! I’ve had other gigs in gay clubs and I’ve seen her on lots of occasions.”

“And?” I riposted.”

“Well, I, - I thought I’d better warn you.”

“Okay, so you’ve warned us, now let us be the judges of our own company. We’re not as dumb as we’re cabbage looking.”

“Oh sorry. Did you know?”

“As soon as we met her darling, there ain’t many six foot women with size eleven heels and no hips. Besides she told us almost immediately. Now d’you want us to dance or not?”

“Oh yes please, I can’t believe a college ball could get so dead.”

“Maybe the girls are all flunked out, somebody’s going around spiking drinks.”

“Oh shit! I’ll bet I know who that is! I’ll sound a warning straight away.”

True to his word, even as I swayed back to our table, he motioned to the doormen who came over and they chatted at length before the disc jockey pointed discreetly towards a rowdy group of college jocks and a couple of slimly looking individuals. They immediately tensed with fear as the doormen guarded the doors and a couple of them trapped the gang before they even knew there was something afoot. It was all done so smoothly and without any fuss that even Jeanette nearly missed it and she was really street-wise.

She smiled a tight-lipped smile when she finally spotted the action and she tapped our spiked drinks that we still had on our table. Without another word she approached the chief doorman and explained even as the police arrived. The office obviously recognised the tall willowy transvestite and he smiled as Jeanette talked at length. Then they returned to our table as they carried on talking, - “and I think you’ll find their finger prints on that glass at least. I’ll bet the chemicals in these girls’ drinks match the tablets you’ve just found on that scum.”

The policeman motioned to his colleague who went to collect some extra cuffs from their car. Mel looked up and frowned.

“Gosh, you guys were quick.”

“We were already on our way. Jeanette’s done us a few favours before. We’ve even been lucky enough to bring the forensics van. No murders to night so the van was free, thank God!”

Jeanette smiled apologetically as she explained.

“I phoned them the moment I saw those scum spike your drinks. It’s the old favourite, rhohypnol. Anyway, panic over, this wonderful officer is going to warn the floor.”

She reached across and gave the huge sergeant a peck on the cheek. If the sergeant could have got any redder, he would have caught fire.

“Thanks Charlie. See you at mums for her birthday.”

“Oh! D’you know him?” I asked.

“Charlie; oh yes. He’s my older brother.”

We three just sat their grinning stupidly as Jeanette rejoined our table and Charlie approached the disc-jockey’s podium.
He made his announcement short and sweet then invited anybody who might suspect their drinks had been tampered with to present them for a test in the police forensics van outside the gym. There was a substantial shift towards the door as many angry looking girls joined the queue.

The test was a simple ‘litmus test’ and several even angrier looking freshers returned arguing furiously with their newly found, so-called boyfriends.

We fell to chatting with Jeanette about her brother Charlie.

“He’s pretty tolerant guy if he still likes you.” I observed.

“You don’t know the half. He’s more than a big bro to me; he saved my life and nearly lost his career doing it.”

“How come?”

“Oh it was years ago. I was six when my father caught me ‘borrowing’ my sister’s clothes and he started beating me to a pulp. He was a vicious bastard who had beaten all us kids and mum throughout our childhoods, that is until they were old enough to defend themselves. Anyway, Charlie had just started as a rookie cop and he had just finished his shift. My father had beaten me many times before but this beating was really serious because of the transvestite thing and my father’s apparent transphobia. Charlie arrived home just in time, a few more minutes and the doctors said I would have been dead. By then Charlie was bigger than dad, just look at the size of him.”

We turned and saw Charlie towering over the main body of students as they still queued to have their drinks tested. A few students, probably the basket ball team, measured up to Charlie for height but not across the shoulders. Charlie was built like a bull bison; ‘king of the herd to boot!’ Jeanette was dead right, Charlie was a big man. She continued her story.

“Anyway, Charlie heard my mother screaming then he heard the noise upstairs. I was unconscious by then. He ran up to find our father laying into me like I was a rag doll, cursing and screaming and kicking me for all he was worth. Charlie just laid our father out with one blow then called his mates around. Firstly they tried to charge Charlie with assault.

Can you believe that, despite all the evidence of what was done to me and I was still being treated on the floor by the medics. They had to have the casualty consultant come to me because my body was so crumpled and misshapen. Charlie nearly lost his job and all he did was hit ‘the bastard’ once. He had to do an extra three months probation.

It was the last straw for Charlie, he literally kicked dad out! He had his own wage as a cop by then and my oldest sister was also working.

Mum didn’t need dad’s wages or his fists any more. My father got four years and he never came back. The rest is history as they say. I had multiple fractures and spent six months in ICU. Yep, Charlie’s my big bro all right so I do him all the favours I can, just like I’ve helped him here tonight.

There were six of us kids four girls and two boys and our father beat every one of us unmercifully. Charlie did us all a favour that day but I truly owe him my life.

Cos I’m the family tranny I move in lower circles than my sisters and I pick stuff up on the swamp drums. I’ve helped Charlie several times on cases by going undercover. Remember that series of prostitute murders some years ago around King’s Cross. The girls were too scared so I acted as a decoy for the police to set up a sting. It worked and Charlie got promoted. I still owe him for saving my life from that bastard supposedly called my father. Hey-up he’s coming over.”

The man-mountain approached and smiled at his transvestite brother.

“Don’t forget Jeanette, we’ll all be there including my wife Wendy and our two, for mum’s birthday. Everybody will be bringing either friends or wives. Bring your friends if you want. You know Wendy and your sisters love it when you talk clothes and makeup. I suppose I’ll be the stuck with the bar-b’ queue but what’s new.”

He kissed his younger brother on the cheek then smiled at all of us and lumbered out. We three just gaped in astonishment.

“Good God!” Bea gasped. "That’s one hell of a brother. You’re one lucky girl!”

“Yeah better than some T Girl life stories innit. Our family sticks together like shit to a blanket and I’m one of the main beneficiaries.”

Mel was studying Jeanette as she talked.

“Are you a freshman?”

“Yes, but a few years older than you guys.”

“Which hall of residence are you in?”

“Clarence. The boy's hall on the corner of cmapus.”

“Oh we’re in Clare. We're only two blocks further in. You looked a bit old to be a freshman.”

“Been round the block a bit I’m afraid girls. Had to get a job for a few years, don’t ask what but it sure helped my brother’s career. Scraping by to supplement my student loan. And yes it paid well but it wasn’t what you’d call office hours. Anyway, enough of me what about you three; you’re terrific dancers.”

“Why thank you, you’re ever so nice. Do you dance?” I asked.

Jeanette gave me an old look and grinned.

“As I said, the job wasn’t office hours. When he puts a decent dance tune on I’ll join you.”
Almost as if he’d heard Jeanette’s words, the disc jockey obliged with Buddy Holly’s ‘Peggy Sue’.
Beatrice and Mel's eyes lit up and we all stepped eagerly out onto the floor.

Well Jeanette did say she could dance and boy could Jeanette dance! Her long willowy frame seemed to contort into every possible and some impossible shapes as she pounded away in perfect rhythm to the drums. Within minutes, the dance-floor had come to a standstill as everybody stopped to stare; then, when the drums stopped as suddenly as they do in ‘Peggy Sue’ she did a spectacular sliding ‘splits’ to end up at our feet. The whole gymnasium burst into wild cheering.

Then she did the classical dancers trick of drawing her feet together and rising off the floor. Fortunately, Jeanette’s form fitting ball gown had side splits up to her hips. As we returned to our table we all complimented Jeanette.

“Jee’ze girl! You’re some mover! Where did you learn to dance like that?” I asked.

“Oh come on Martie. Doesn’t every little girl go to dance lessons? I went with my sisters.”

“Did your mum let you?”

“After Charlie chucked dad out, yes. I was still only six and it was decided that dance lessons would be good therapy after
ICU. I started dance lessons at seven. My older sister was also working and she paid for the lessons. She always said that the lessons were wasted on her younger sisters but not on me.”

To demonstrate her abilities, Jeanette wrapped her leg around her neck and span around on the other foot. Doing this in a ball gown meant, that despite the side slits, we got more than a glimpse of beautifully frilly panties and a hint of something else.

Mel looked around nervously but because our table was back in the shadows, nobody else saw the panties. However lots saw her fling her foot around her neck. Jeanette was a contortionist and an exotic dancer and as flexible as any woman. I was impressed. She also had terrific rhythm.

“I’ll bet all the jocks will be around your door in the morning,” Bea giggled.

“They’ll get a surprise then. I’m hetero.”

We nodded knowingly and Jeanette smiled.

“I knew you would realise that. It takes alternative lifestylers to know stuff like that. It’s unusual to find a lezzy threesome though.”

It was our turn to smile as Bea and Mel turned to me and nodded towards Jeanette by way of giving an explanation. I nodded resignedly and turned to Jeanette.

“Uhm, we’re not a threesome darling, we’re a ménage a trios.”

“Oh gosh. That’s just so lovely, which one’s the t girl?”

“Me.” I replied as my grin broadened.

Jeanette let out a squeal of delight and heads turned as one all around the dance floor. We were rapidly gaining attention. Our Alternative lifestyle radars warned us to be on guard for unwanted attentions. Several pairs of ‘dumb jock eyes’ were turning to study us and we could read the lust in their eyes.

Jeanette grinned and asked us.

“What time are you girls leaving?”

“Same time as you, d’you want to come over to ours for coffee.”

“Oh that would be nice. Will that old bag of a warden be there?”

“Oh yes. She wouldn’t miss out on a night like tonight. Perfect night to impose her narrow minded will.”

“What no male visitors after midnight.”

“Well, it’s her rule not a college rule but hall wardens have a lot of liberty to impose their own will. She’s a right Scottish Presbyterian old biddy.”

“Well I’ll have to do my best to ‘pass’ wont I?”

We smiled collectively. Although tall and willowy, Jeanette would have no trouble ‘passing’.

“So what time are we leaving girls?” Jeanette persisted.

“Why the big fuss about time?” Frowned Mel.

Jeanette smiled knowingly.

“Those dumb-arse lummoxes over there. They are in the same hall as me, Clarence. They don’t recognise me en-femme but they’ve tried it on already with several ‘r — gees’, and they need taking down a peg or two.”

“So how d’you intend doing that?” Bea asked.

“If my bro knows what time we’re going home we might be able to trap those twats.”

“Ah! Good thinking batman.” I said. “One of them has already tried it on with me alone in the high pressure lab during physics practical.”

“Exactly,” finished Jeanette, “they’ve already got reputations.”

We agreed on midnight and discussed Cinderella’s slippers until the next good dance tune arrived and once more Jeanette brought the house down with a few exotic, contortionist moves. At half, - eleven, Jeanette phoned her brother then at midnight we made a big show of departing with lots of loud good-bye’s to various new-found friends and acquaintances. As our heels clicked seductively along the paths across campus we soon heard the heavy footed plod of malevolent pursuers. Jeanette whispered into her already open phone and the ambush was set. We slowed down by a thick clump of bushes under some trees and sure enough the jocks arrived right on cue.

“Hello girls or should we say boys?” The thickset one smirked.

“Bugger off!” Beatrice snapped.

“Oh getting feisty are we. Would you like to try a real man?”

“Can’t see any around,” Mel retorted.

“Well try this then you tranny bitches, it's a real cock!”

So saying he whipped out his organ and made a grab for me because I was the nearest.”
I let out a squeal of protest as he lurched eagerly forward and tackled me to the floor. It was no contest, he weighed well over two hundred pounds and I weighed under one twenty. I collapsed under his weight and his hands immediately dug under my full length ball gown.

Simultaneously the other jocks tried their hands on my partners. Soon the four of us where struggling on the floor and screaming for all we were worth. The perfect moment had arrived. Suddenly the whole area was illuminated by powerful headlights and flashlights as half a dozen hefty police appeared from the bushes with video cameras and night-sticks to hand.

The jocks were caught bang to rights and were soon hauled away as we gave our statements to Charlie and the two lady police officers. They had video evidence and our statements plus their own eye-witness accounts to support their prosecution.

“How are you going to do this big bro?” Jeanette asked Charlie.

“Transphobic crime, I think, little sis, Jacky’s Video Camera recorded that dumb arse’s words perfectly when he called you boys.
Nowadays the transphobic charge usually gets the best result. Best thing is they can’t even plead entrapment. You four are not cops and the video evidence makes it abundantly clear that you were trying to reject their advances! Are you okay to walk the rest of the way?”

“Yes, our gowns are ruined but I think it will be a pleasant stroll.”

The police grinned and we four giggled. By morning the word would be all around Uni! Sex offenders beware!
Charlie decided to accompany Jeanette because he wanted some advice about their mum’s birthday present. The police women brought the car around as we strolled through the campus grounds at the witching hour. Jeanette explained to Charlie that she had a wonderful gift box of very expensive Parisian perfume and make up. It would make an excellent collective present for Charlie, his wife Wendy and his kids to present to their nan. A girl can never have too much makeup.

“So what will you give her? I suspect that was going to be your present,” Charlie observed shrewdly.

“I’ve got this Gift voucher for some very expensive shoes.” Jeanette replied.

We all nodded approvingly, a girl could never have enough shoes either. We arrived at the residence doors and the witch was waiting for us but Charlie rather put her off her stroke.

“Evening ma-am, there’s been a bit of bother tonight, these girls were attacked so I’m escorting them to a safe place.”

“Oh! Oh I see! Well you’d better escort them right in then. Have you apprehended the attackers?”

“Happily ma-am, yes.” He replied as he turned to us four. “Well that’s a good night’s work done. Sleep safe ladies. I don’t think you’d better try crossing over to your hall young lady,” Charlie said to his ‘sister’, “I think you’d best stay over here tonight.”

The warden was outmanoeuvred perfectly. Charlie was some cunning piece of work! With huge grins we paid our respects to Charlie and the two police women then we retreated upstairs to my room as the Warden felt obliged to invite the police in for a cup of coffee.

Up in my bedroom we chatted long into the small hours until fatigue won its inevitable victory and the girls retired to one of their bedrooms. I woke to find Jeanette in my bed while Bea and Mel had departed for roomier sleeping arrangements. Nervously I checked my body but there was no evidence of any untoward activities during the night and I gently rolled over to stare into Jeanette’s deep brown eyes. She was smiling.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked with a broad smile.

“Yes.” I whispered back. “Thanks for not trying anything. You’re really sweet.”

She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead and we both snuggled up into each other’s arms. We lay there for several minutes just chatting contentedly as her fingers absently traced a delicate track over my sensitive boobs. I squirmed with pleasure and begged her to stop. She did immediately then turned again to gaze into my eyes and whisper enviously.

“I wish I had boobs like yours. How did you do it?”

“I’ve been under a very good group of doctors. They have been utterly supportive.”

Jeanette sighed wistfully.

“Gosh you’re lucky, and is it true, your cock really does work?”

“Ask the girls.”

“I don’t have to; they told me as much last night. I’m surprised they left you with me last night.”

“They can trust me, I’m utterly loyal to the two of them and it would have been bad manners to leave a guest alone in my room.
Besides, they’re in menstrual synchrony and they’re due this morning. We obviously don’t indulge when the girls feel low.”

“They didn’t show any symptoms of PMT.”

“Oh I can spot them. They were right to excuse themselves; Beatrice sometimes has a rough time of it. I usually take them a warm drink when they’re indisposed, especially the onset. Hold on a minute, I’ll phone them.”

A somewhat grumpy Beatrice answered; it was obvious she had started.

“Uugghh, hello, is that you?”

“Yes darling, tea or coffee?”

She turned and grumbled softly to Mel then returned to her mobile.

“Tea please, for both of us. Thanks darling, you’re sweet.”

“Can Jeanette come in as well?”

“Of course, what will she be wearing?”

“I’ve lent her some stretch leggings and a long top. She’s the same dress size as me, just a lot taller. She’s decent, no lunch-box in sight. She does bloody good transition.”

“Yeah, skinny bitch too, she’s just so lucky.”

“She works at it Bea. She hardly eats.”

“Come on then, we can chat some more.”

Jeanette was eager to join the girls. She was a very attractive hetro TV and even without makeup she looked good. Only her shoes could have given her away. It’s hard to grow to five ten and keep small feet.

As a special treat we took two trays with scrambled eggs and toast. I knew this is what both girls liked when they were ‘indisposed’.

Although we had lockable internal doors to our bedrooms, we rarely locked them and Mel’s door was actually open when we brought the breakfast. Mel was sitting up and gently stroking Bea’s back while Bea lay on her tummy looking pretty rough. I smiled softly and sat gently on the bed as Jeanette laid the other tray on the bedside table.

“Do you feel up to eating anything?” I asked sympathetically.

“I suppose I’d better eat something,” Bea growled. “Gimm'e a piece of toast.”

I picked a toasted soldier from the pile and delicately fed it to her while holding the plate under her jaw to catch crumbs. She grinned and eventually perked up.

“I suppose I’d better eat. Feed a tummy and starve a cramp.”

“Well I’ve never heard it put like that and I’ve got four sisters.” Jeanette grinned as she pulled up the bedside chair and poured the tea.

“Thanks love,” Bea croaked, “you’re almost as caring as Marty.”

“I try, my sisters trained me.”

“Aren’t you going to eat some more egg? That’s pathetic.” Mel asked as she studied Jeanette’s plate.

“No, this is enough. Must watch the waistline or I’ll grow as big as my brother.”

Mel nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah; man in a frock. Thank God you’re so tall and willowy.”

“Man in a frock,” Jeanette repeated, “Urgghh, horrible thought! I have to work at my figure.”

We all smiled at Jeanette’s ‘confession’, it was truly hard for a tranny to overcome her genes. Jeanette was only a size 10 to 12 (UK) dress and that was bloody good for a 5 foot 10 inch girl.

“You’re not anorexic are you,” Mel asked as concern creased her brow.

“No, not at all, I’m really happy with my body. Once again it’s down to my big bro Charlie. He accepted me after the bastard rejected me and beat me up. When I was in ICU he and mum sat down with the doctors and they had a long chat. I’ve got a wonderful mum and big bro, it was my sisters who had the angst at first, but they came around. I get on with all four of them. By the way, are you going to accept Charlie’s invitation?”

We three exchanged glances then nodded affirmatively. Jeanette gave a whoop and grinned joyfully.

“Oh I’m so glad. It’ll make mum really happy to see that I’ve got real friends, you will be my friends won’t you?”

“That’s what uni’s for isn’t it?” Mel giggled.

Jeanette stood from the chair and stepped around the bed to give Mel a huge hug. Beatrice frowned from under the duvet and grumbled.

“Hey. What about my hug?”

“Okay, is it safe to approach?”

“I’ve got PMT not the plague! A cuddle is one of the best cures.”

Jeanette stretched across the bed and gently took Beatrice in her arms to squeeze her gently. It was one of the most caring clasps I had ever seen. Beatrice gave a sigh and smiled.

“If all men hugged like you darling, our lives would be that much easier.”

Jeanette gave another beatific smile and eventually released Bea who sighed again.

“A girl could get used to you darling, so tall and gentle.”

Jeanette glanced nervously towards me but I smiled and nodded.

“I’m not jealous darling. We’re open and loyal. If you want to join our happy band feel free.”

Jeanette turned to the girls and whispered uncertainly.

“Does Marty speak for all of you?”

Mel and Bea nodded and smiled as Mel explained.

“We’re all girls together here.”

“Oh that’s just so beautiful! I’d really like to join you. I mean you’re just so open and sweet with each other.”

“Well, you only live two halls away. It’s not exactly another planet is it?”

“What about the door bitch, the old witch.” Jeanette wondered.

“We’re working on her. She’s just an embittered old spinster.” I replied.

With that we finally dug ourselves out of bed and cleared away the breakfast things before inspecting the damage to our ball gowns.

“Just look at it, it’s ruined!” I cursed. “The bastard snapped the shoulder straps, and look at these bloody mud stains.”

“Sue him,” Jeanette suggested, “his dad’s loaded and he’s a typical spoiled brat, thinks everything’s just for the taking; just for his enjoyment. This’ll be a wake-up call for him and his overindulgent parents.”

“Is it worth it?” I asked, “They’ll have a whole shitload of clever lawyers to argue their case.”

“You’re forgetting; my brother has got video evidence. They’ll get sent down from Uni and that’s a dead cert! Charlie’s determined to pursue it, he’s enormously sympathetic to transgendered causes and he’s got some pretty canny lawyers of his own. Phone him, here’s his number.”

As we ruefully studied our once beautiful gowns I got through to Charlie, he was at home playing with his kids. To a back-ground of shrieks and laughter he answered my questions.

“You bet kid. I’ll even add it as a charge of criminal damage. Go for it; bout’ time these rich bastards were taken down a peg. The crown prosecutor has already accepted the transphobic aspect. You’ll be on a winner.”

Thus re-assured we asked him to add the charge to the sheet.

He did and that same afternoon, Jeanette got a call confirming the CP’s acceptance.