Kate Draffen (Chapter 34)

By Swishy

Michael Taylor was a 17-year-old boy living in a town in Australia. Something happened and he found himself on a path to becoming a 17-year-old girl. This is a story about an ordinary teenager that had something extraordinary happen to him and how he tried to cope.

Annette, Gemma's Mum and Dot all come to Gemma's aid.

CHAPTER 34

It lay in shreds on the floor. As dutifully as my mother had made it I had destroyed it. There were strips lying on the floor like shards of glass. I cried uncontrollably at the mess I had made and the mess I was now in. In my mixed-up head cutting up the dress had seemed like a perfect plan but I looked down at the puddle of satin below me and no problems seemed solved at all. My pain hadn't subsided and I was still as female as when I had started. Sure, I had destroyed the girliest thing in my life but I had destroyed so much more than that; I had destroyed a dress my Mum had poured hours upon hours into. My Deb was only a few weeks away, much too short a time for my Mum to recreate that dress again. I felt despicable.

"Mum," I gently shook my sleeping mother.

"Mmmmgh," she rustled.

"Mum, wake up!" I pleaded with her.

"Hmmgh, what is it Gemmy?"

"I need you," I sniffled.

Mum fumbled for the switch on her reading lamp and sat up. She looked at me with concern, I hadn't woken up Mum with a problem since I was like 5, so to be woken up by your topless, near-adult teenage daughter was reason enough for an instant panic. "What is it, Gemma? Are you OK?" I couldn't answer I could only sob; heavy, uncontrollable sobs.

"Gemma, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Please tell me!" Mum pleaded.

"I…" I tired to say something but the tears demanded priority, "I did something bad."

"Gemma, take deep breaths. Everything is going to be OK now."

"You hate me," I moaned, letting everything inside me out.

"Of course I don't hate you. I love you. Why would you think I hate you?" Mum wrapped her arm around her crying daughter. My mother always made sure she looked her best, so it was very rare that I saw her without her make-up. She looked older to me, wearing an old T-shirt and no make-up, but she also looked more caring.

"I cut it," the confession made my eyes clenched shut, "I don't know why I did but I did."

Misunderstanding me, Mum forcefully grabbed my wrists and looked them up and down. "What did you cut? Gemma? Tell me what you cut!" she was forceful and commanding. She was concerned about me.

I stopped crying long enough to tell her, "Your dress." I awaited the shouting, the screaming and quite possibly the hitting. I clenched my eyes shut very tightly and held my breath. I was about to get everything I deserve. But you know what, none of it came.

"My dress? You mean your Deb Dress?"

"Yes!" I bawled. I felt my Mum tense up a little and I held my breath again awaiting the barrage of anger to come barrelling towards me.

"That's OK, Gem. If you don't want to do the Deb all you had to do was say so. It's just a silly dress, I had no idea you felt this way. I love you, sweetheart I would never do anything to hurt you. I'm so sorry." It was weird that my Mum was now apologising to me, especially when it was me doing the confessing.

Mum's arm around me became a full on hug. She squeezed me tight and I felt secure in her arms, despite her being only an inch taller than me. "But I want to want to do the Deb, Mum! I want to love being a girl! I want to love myself again!" It may have been confusing but it was true, although I currently hated being a girl I knew the best way out of the problem would be learning to love my new gender, and for a few fleeting moments I already had. The heady difference between Kate Draffen and I was that I wanted to get better; I wanted to learn to live this way while Kate wanted some non-existent miraculous cure.

My Mum can be remarkably sweet when she wants to be. "Gemma, you're lucky. I've found loving you to be the easiest thing in the world for me to do. Since you are so special and so caring and sweet it's impossible not to love you. I love you all the time even when I'm asleep. All you need to do is look at you and you'll love yourself again, soon. We're going to get you through this Gemma!" She rocked me gently like the way she must have done when I was just a baby. She hummed slightly as I just cried in her arms. Even as teenager I felt safe and secure in my mother's arms. "It'll be OK," she whispered, "Annette's coming tomorrow."

And she did. I heard the taxi pull up and hurried click-clack of her high heels. I couldn't understand why Annette wore high heels all the time; she was already tall enough, she positively towered over me. I guess she thought it made her look more professional, but in that case who decided that high heels were a 'professional' look? Must have been a guy. Annette had been coming only once a week for a little while, since I had been doing so well, but I had an inkling after I opened up about my feelings she would be coming around more often.

"Hi Gemma," she said as I was opening the door. Her messy brown hair was held up in a bun and her glasses sat plainly on her nose. I hate to admit it but I was glad to see her. Annette was here to help me and I was going to do my best to get helped. There was a first time for everything.

"Come on in please," I was as usual cordial around her but I was never really natural. As human beings we never really saw eye to eye. Maybe that was because I was always rolling my eyes at her but this time I was willing to work with her. She was the country's leading gender reassignment psychologist and had already written like 3 papers about me, not that I was bothered to read them. But it was hard to say that she was doing a good job considering her two patients were both doing quite badly.

"How are you, Gemma?"

"Not too crash hot, Doc," I whined as I sat across from her at the kitchen table.

"Your Mum told me you were feeling quite depressed and you've been acting withdrawn," she told me, looking concerned. "Tell me what you think happened."

Annette loved saying things like 'Tell me about…' and 'What do you think about….?' Anything that I couldn't answer 'yes' or 'no' to. I talked a lot about Kate Draffen — "At first I didn't think she was right about anything at all, she seemed so hate-filled and unsympathetic. But I finally started to understand her, it's not natural that I was adapting so quickly. I was only a month in and I was wearing party dresses and panties with lace trim, Annette!"

"You were progressing really well before you met John Draffen. Why is a smooth transition such a bad thing in your eyes?" I really hated that term 'smooth transition'.

"Because what made me me is disappearing, you know? I was losing myself in a sea of other people's expectations. I was dressing pretty to impress my Mum, I was chasing after boys to impress my friends, I was acting all girly to fit in. But Michael was drifting away slowly."

Annette arched an eyebrow, she always looked like she was in deep thought. I wondered what she was like as a girl my age. She was either the talkative know it all who had much more awards than friends, or she was the quiet bookworm who befriended the characters in Jane Austen's novels, either way she didn't really know much about peer pressure. "Why did you think you had to live up to what other people wanted?"

"I don't know," I fiddled with a stray fork left over from breakfast, "I was confused. I didn't know how to be a girl so I was taking lessons left, right and centre."

"What do you mean 'how to be a girl'? Gemma, we've been through this, there is no right and wrong way of being female." And she was right, I guess. In my lifetime I and met thousands of females and none were 'doing it wrong'.

"I guess I just wanted I wanted to fit in. I'm such a freak already and I thought if I acted like a quote unquote real girl, I might be able to fit in easier. And look at me now, I'm a fucking walking-talking girl cliché!" I crossed my hands across my chest defensively.

Annette spoke in a calm, soothing voice. I'm pretty sure the first year of studying psychology was perfecting that calm, removed voice. "That's not true, Gemma. You're thoughtful, caring human being and nothing has changed about that. What makes you think you are such a cliché?"

"Oh, I don't know! The fact that I was going to do my Deb, the fact I get a major crush on any cute guy who looks at me."

"I know these crushes must be confusing, Gemma. I always thought that girls can fall in love in a fraction of a second. That sort of emotional reaction must be scary for you. But the truth is you are a 17-year-old girl, and girls your age tend to be a little boy-crazy."

"I don't want to be boy-crazy!" I snapped, finally letting some of the anger shine through, "I loved liking girls! Look at me! I have a body that I should totally be attracted to. But of instead of liking it for what it is, I like this body because I know I can use it to get guys! That's pretty fucked up, Annette!" I banged the fork on the table.

"Gemma, you are beautiful girl. I saw the photos from the Dolly Magazine and you looked tremendous and yes, a lot of boys would be attracted to you. But you should just follow your heart. Do you think homosexuals are sick?"

"Of course not," I replied.

"And you're right. They aren't sick; they are just living naturally based on their inner feelings. Stop and really think for a moment. What are your inner feelings saying? Do you find boys attractive?"

With permission, I let my mind wander. I pictured Tyler's lightly muscled body, his thick, strong arms, and his cute devious smile. I liked the picture in my mind and let it linger for a while. Lately, any thoughts of attractive men had been discarded as quickly as possible but I actually enjoyed exploring my thoughts. Tyler was a gorgeous specimen of man but my mind cycled through a selection of them. I liked how powerful they seemed, so strong and able to protect me. "Yes, I like boys." It seemed like simple statement from a pretty girl that she liked boys but it almost seemed profound to me, as if this was a step in the right direction.

"There was no wrong answer to that question, Gemma. There are plenty of girl who don't fancy boys at all and you are no more or no less a girl because you like boys."

"But liking girls was so much fun!" I reminisced.

"Liking boys doesn't mean you can't like girls. Sexuality isn't a black and white thing. Think about it again, do you like girls?"

I opened my mind once more and got ready for some deep exploration. I pictured a typical 'hot girl' with blonde hair and big boobs. She was looking fairly cute until she started morphing into me. I shook my head and like an etch-a-sketch and the slate became blank. OK, brunette, slim, athletic body, cute bum. She sat in my mind and I prompted her to walk around, she complied and I watched her walk. Nothing was giving me that warm feeling that thinking about guys did so she undressed for me. Still nothing. She looked at me disappointedly as she faded away.

"No, I don't think I like girls."

"And that's OK. I know it still might be confusing to you but you seem to be a heterosexual female. Does that scare you?"

I thought about it, "No, my preference doesn't really scare me. I'm attracted to men."

Annette smiled, "Good. I think a healthy thing to do would be to talk about these feeling with your friends. It can be quite liberating to just air out sexual thoughts you have been thinking every once in awhile. And I get the feeling you don't really want to do it with me."

I laughed, Annette often surprised me with how perceptive she could be.

"You want to do what?" asked Dot with a surprised look on her face.

"Well, I wanna talk about boys, Dot. I've been suppressing thoughts about boys for so long and my doctor said it would be good if I talked about the with someone."

"So you showered, got dressed, walked all the way over to my house so we could talk about boys?"

"Don't make this harder than it already is, bitch!" I laughed nervously, "I just need to vent to someone and I picked you, my very dear friend. You should be flattered."

"I am, I guess. Why don't you want to talk to Alana and Lilly and the rest of the other cock hungry sluts?"

I sighed, Dot really had it in for my other friends. "They're not cock hungry sluts," I defended them, although my protests wouldn't change Dot's mind at all. "Be nice to my friends, OK? They don't hate you at all. I came to you because you are my best friend. I need this talk, it's going help me get used to being me."

"OK, if a few awkward minutes of conversation about cock is going to save your life, I'm only too happy to oblige, Gemma Mae."

Usually Dot's house was the base of operations. It was where I spent a large amount on my life, talking and mocking each other through those difficult teen years. The primary reason for it being home-base for our friendship group was it was walking distant from both Glen's and my houses, but she also had the nicest TV (before Mum went big screen). So it was weird coming back to Dot's house the first time as a girl. Mr, Newsom looked at me weird when he opened the door. "Gemma?" he asked.

"Hi Mr. Newsom," I smiled. I had forgotten that they were still a lot of acquaintances in my life I hadn't come face-to-face with. A million family friends and friend's families had yet to have that awkward first moment with me. Something to look forward to, I guess. Mr. Newsom was a well-read man, that's not usually the first attribute you assign someone but it truly was his defining feature. He ran the town's public library and it was obvious that he took his work home with him. Bookcases lined every wall of the house and every shelf was crammed with books. There were even books on top of the bookcases, reaching as high as the ceiling. Unlike Mr. Newsom's workplace, Dewey and his crazy system had no rule here.

"Well, hello there Gemma. I suppose it's a bit of a 'long time no see' situation, it's been awhile."

"A month," I told him, "Is Dot in?"

"I believe Dorothy is reclining in her bedroom." Yes, he said 'reclining', and not even in an ironic way, he always talked that way.

Dot's room was also full of books. As if it was hereditary she had inherited her father's insatiable love of reading. Whenever she wasn't at school or hanging with us, her nose was buried deep in a book. She wasn't reading when I cane in though, nor was she reclining. She was doing her homework. Dot appeared to be the wisecracking, sarcastic rebel outside of her room but the truth was she wanted to achieve so bad. She did more amounts of homework than anyone I had ever known or ever conceived of, and on top of that she was the smartest person in our entire year level. She had big plans and there was very little to stop her from achieving them.

Dot went and got me a drink, half apple juice/half orange juice in the Marvin the Martian glass (my usual), and I looked around her room. Annette was right, there was no right way to be a girl. I always though of Dot as feminine but her room wasn't covered in frills and lace. The walls were blue, the bedspread grey, no dolls or Teddy bears to speak of and yet this room felt like a girl's room.

***

Dot put me on the spot, "So, let's talk about boys then."

"Umm…," I looked around the room, "I don't know how to start this."

"Well, you find them attractive. How does that make you feel?" Dot inquired as she sat at her desk.

"Dot, you sound like my shrink!"

"Gemma, my problem is I'm about as experienced as you are at talking about boys. I don't really have any girl friends to talk about it with. You and Glen are my girl friend substitutes and I couldn't really talk to you about boys, could I?"

"You can now. I'm all ears now." There was a palpable nervousness in the air. While we had talked about sexuality of a purely superficial level and we'd even had sex before, Dot and I had never really, truly talked about sex.

"Well," she breathed in, holding back a million thoughts, "I like boys too, Gemma. I like being held by them and feeling protected and I like how different they are to girls and I like the satisfied feeling of having a cock inside me."

"Whoa!" I laughed, "You just went from one to a hundred in one sentence!"

She blushed a deep crimson colour and looked away, "Sorry! I told you I didn't know how to do this!" Seeing her blush like that gave her a fallibility that was so rare in her. Dot suddenly seemed like the 16-year-old she was and not the 30-year-old she wanted to be.

"I like boys," I admitted for like the 30th time, "I can't help checking them out as they walk past me. It sucks because most of them don't wear tight clothes like girls do, so it's trickier to ogle them. But I find it's not just their bodies I'm interested in — it's their voices and the way they treat me and how interested they are in me and their personalities..." I could have gone on forever about what intrigued me about my old gender.

"Guys are so much more visual than we are. You can't just masturbate over a picture anymore, I bet. You need a whole fantasy now, a romantic scene and hot guy, right?"

I thought back over my masturbatory experiments my pussy and I took part in. It had taken longer to reach climax and I did have to use my imagination a bit more. As a guy I did employ fantasies a fair bit, I must admit but if I just needed a quick wank, the posters around my room would suffice. I'm not sure pictures of hot guys would aid me in quite the same way anymore, I needed the fantasy. "Right."

Dot seemed even more intrigued with the conversation than I was. "Do you play with yourself more or less now?" she asked, leaning forward as if I was about to reveal the meaning of life.

"Umm…," I tried to do a little math in my head, "About the same. Maybe a little less, but that's mainly because I've been either absolutely depressed or super busy. But when I'm neither feeling down nor busy I'm getting down and getting busy," I giggled nervously, it felt so wrong yet liberating to talk like this, "Let's just say in one month I can't count the number of times on one hand but I can on two."

"So you use two hands?" joked Dot. I just rolled my eyes at her. "Do you really see yourself ever having sex with a guy, Gem? I know I joke about it a lot but do you see yourself being female in every sense of the word?" I hadn't told her or anyone about my encounter with Tyler yet.

"Ummm…," I stalled while I tried to think of what to say and reminiscing about my time with Tyler, "I think so. I mean I'm a girl now for the long haul. I'm sure there will be a time when I'll be comfortable enough to let a guy…"

"Oh my God!" Dot clasped her hand over her mouth in surprise, "You've already done it, haven't you?"

I gawked back at her in equal measures of surprise. How did she know? "Huh?" I feigned complete and utter innocence.

"The way you were smiling when you answered the question! It was such a knowing smile! I saw the same fucking smile from you when I mentioned feeling satisfied when being filled." She crossed her arms triumphantly as if she had deduced who the murderer was at Miss Tallyworth's Tea Party.

"I wasn't smiling at anything!"

"You're smiling now!" she proclaimed, "Gemma Mae Taylor! I cannot believe you! Hot-to-trot sexpot, right out of the box!"

"Shut up!" I tried to laugh it off.

"Who was it, hey? Your Deb partner, Aaron Lekakis? Was it Kev? Tell me, tell me!" she was giddy with suspicion.

"Nobody, no-one, no guys, Dot! Your intuition is all screwed up!"

That answer didn't satiate Dot at all and she continued hypothesizing, "It was in Sydney, wasn't it?" She gazed at me with a piercing look, as if she had the power to stare right into my brain and see my memories. I tried to stop thinking about in case she could read my mind. I tried to think of turkey, used-cars, ABBA, anything to put her off track.

"Dot!" My protests were becoming weaker.

"That's why you were all screwy when you came back, yeah?"

"OK!" I broke, I felt the barrier I had carefully constructed in my mind come crashing down, "But you HAVE to promise not to tell anyone!"

"My lips are sa-sa-sealed!" Dot mimed locking her lips and throwing the key away.

And so I opened up to someone. I told Dot everything. How I flirted with Tyler, how I reveled in his kiss, how he broke it off and then how I snuck into his room. She listened intently, her once cynical eyes growing bigger and bigger with every detail.

"Wow Gemma!" she said once the whole sordid story was finally finished, "I don't know if you cause all this drama yourself or you're just unlucky!"

"I transformed into a girl and you're wondering if I brought this all on myself?"

"Fair point," she said, sitting on her crossed legs like an excited kindergartener, "But what happened next? What did he say to put you in this depression you're in?"

"Nothing, he was really nice the next morning. But I freaked out when I got my period and that's when I realised I didn't want to be a girl anymore."

Dot walked around the room, almost like a short feminine parody of Columbo, "So, when did you realise you didn't want to be a girl? After the massive party celebrating you? Or after a gorgeous gentleman gave you a mind-blowing orgasm?"

"I never said it was 'mind-blowing'!" at least I didn't think I used that term.

"Gemma, you practically had another one just talking about it!"

OK, I had gotten a little excited about it, sure, but it was fun telling someone all the dirty little details. "I think it was all just too much for me. Something in my brain snapped. I'm not supposed to be a girl."

"Who says?" asked Dot.

"I don't know! God? Science? Genetics?"

"And yet you are one."

"Yes," I thought out loud, "Yes I am." I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Nobody but the mentally deranged would categorise me as a boy anymore. It didn't matter that I wasn't wearing make-up, or girls' clothes or a bra, I looked like a girl. Hell, I had a vagina! I am a girl! I might not like it all the time but I didn't like being a boy all the time either.

I gave the reflection a sly smile, a sort of an 'everything is going to be alright' kinda smile. I still had a long way to go, but talking to Dot was doing wonders. It felt great to be so honest with someone and not hide behind expectations. I didn't have to be anyone's idea of a 'girl', I was already a girl and I could be whatever I wanted.

Despite my revelation Dot didn't stop talking, "So, Tyler's been a total jerk since, huh? Not called you or anything? Bloody men."

"Actually," I began, still sticking with honesty, "He's tried calling, I jut haven't picked up yet."

"What?" Dot slapped my hand like I was a disobedient dog, "Gemma Mae Taylor!" Dot really loved using my full name, "No wonder you have major issues! I'm pretty sure you need to talk to him."

My plan to that point was to avoid Tyler until either he or I died. "Why? What can he say?"

Dot looked at me with disbelief in the eyes. "I don't know! That's why it's so important to call him!"

"Gemma, he's just a guy," I said as if I was suddenly an expert at being a girl, "He'll just say anything to make me feel better, thus letting himself off the hook."

"Let himself off the hook? Gem, you snuck into his room and gave him a head job while he slept. I'm pretty sure you are both responsible. And what do responsible adults do?"

"All the adults I know just keep avoiding their problems until they go away," I explained.

Dot sighed, my life wasn't as filled with as many upstanding adults as hers was. "Well, perhaps you set an example for them then. Call Tyler tonight or face the consequences!"

"What, pray tell, are the consequences, Dot?" I asked my best friend.

Dot squinted thus telling me her threat was deadly serious, "I kick you in the vag fucking hard."

***

Each ring seemed to echo into the night. I was positive that every person, lying in bed waiting for one day to end so that another one just like it could take its place, could hear the blaring ring of my mobile phone. The reality of the situation was that no-one in the houses either side of me as I walked home could hear it at all, I had the earpiece jammed against my ear so hard that no one but me could hear the phone ringing. Me and maybe Tyler.

Each ring made me wonder why he hadn't picked up yet. If he was so damn anxious to talk to me he would have answered by now.

1 ring- OK, so he's not sitting by the phone waiting for me. That's OK.

2 rings gone- Maybe he was angry with me? How dare he! If anyone should be angry with someone, it should have been me angry with him.

3 rings pass- Ignoring me, huh? Well, two people can play that game. I'll never answer a call from Tyler Douglas James Perry again, even if he was on fire and I was a fireman (or firewoman or fireperson or whatever they call girl firemen!)

4 rings and still no answer- Maybe he's with another girl? I bet I was just another notch in his belt! I'm just pussy to him. He's probably ignoring this call while he's pumping away on some other 'lucky' girl.

5 rings- That's it! I'm hanging up!

"Gemma?" said Tyler.

"Umm… hi." I was surprised how much I sounded like the old me when I used to call a girl I liked and she would answer the phone, almost like I was surprised that the thing I wanted to happen actually happened.

"Thank God! How are you?" There was an audible sense of relief that made me rule out the thought that he was currently pumping away on top of another girl.

A little anti-climatically, I said, "Good."

"Gemma, I am so glad you rang! I've been worried sick about you. You weren't answering your calls. I talked to Dr. Fischer today and she said you were a little shaken up after your trip to Sydney but she wouldn't say anything else. Is everything OK?" He didn't take a single breath is saying all of that.

I think everyone has a moment in their life or maybe several where they start crying and they aren't quite sure why. I don't know why but I started crying with Tyler on the end of the phone, maybe because he really seemed to care about me or perhaps because all the grief of the last couple of days came rushing out of me all at once but I bawled. "I…I'm just so…so ha…ha…ha…happy that you're not mad at meeeee!" I said through my sobs.

"Why would I be mad at you, kiddo?"

I tried to start the sentence a few times but my bottom lip would quiver too much and force me to start again. "Because," I eventually heaved, "because I didn't answer your calls and I snuck into your bedroom when you told me not to!"

"Gemma! I'm not even slightly mad at you, I'm just happy knowing you're OK. As for the night we spent together, it was honestly one of the best nights of my life. You made me feel so special."

"Really?" my lack of self-confidence kicked in, "You really mean that?"

"Seriously, I mean it. The much more important question is: How do you feel about it?"

I had reached home and was quietly sneaking pasted Mum's room so my voice was little more than a whisper, "I was kinda shaken up about it all at first but now," I closed the door of my room, "I think I really enjoyed it. I mean you were so gentle and tender, I don't think I could have asked for a better first time." My mind was now a sexy mash of memories and fantasies.

Tyler's smooth voice came out of the earpiece and into my waiting ear, "We really made a great team, kiddo."

"Really?" I asked, bucking up.

"Really. It's a shame you don't live here."

"And I'm not old enough," I reminded him.

"Yes," he laughed, "I keep forgetting that because you are such an old soul. So what are you doing up so late on a school night?"

"I'm my own boss, mate," I joked in a harmless, flirty way, "I'm rich now, so I do what I want."

"Wow, you really are a naughty girl!" Even though he was just joking around his chastising me made my nipples harden. My free hand rubbed them through my top.

One of the great things about being female is the extra pleasure zones around my body. These perky little nipples and the large breasts that they hang off of are primarily there to dispense milk for my potential offspring. But it was like God said, "She's gotta walk around with those huge melons all day, everyday? Better make them supersensitive and fun to play with!"

"Tyler, you're not allowed to be my boyfriend, are you?" I sounded like a lovesick teenager for the very simple reason that I kinda was one.

"Would but if I could, little one but you know the risks — the firm would fire me, the press would go ballistic… people would think that I was taking advantage of you."

"But you wouldn't be!" I protested, "I'm practically an adult! I'm old enough to make my own choices!"

"Maybe in a few years, when you're older we can get away with it. But too many people would raise too many eyebrows." I knew what he mean but I couldn't help picturing some-one with twelve eyebrows raising ten of them in disapproval.

"I'm not so sure how my Mum would cope either. She's kinda got an eye on you."

Tyler said, "Really?" like he was trying to choose me or my Mum. Gross!

"Tyler! She's too old for you! She's like 40!" OK, maybe she was 35 but still…

"And you're too young for me, little princess! If your Mum is anything like you in the sack…"

"Ewww… heaping amounts of gross, dude!" People never liked to think about their parents having sex, especially with their own recent sexual partner.

"I'm kidding!" he reassured me, "I'm kidding."

"You're so lame!"

There was pause in the conversation as if it was changing streams. "Do you know what's so sexy about you? I bet you don't even know."

"What?" I giggled timidly.

He told me, "Your voice."

"Tyler! Don't tease me! I know I sound like a chipmunk!" My voice was something I was a little sensitive about. While I could ignore my body by not looking down my tiny little voice came out whenever I opened my mouth.

"Well, if that's the case I have an unhealthy attraction to chipmunks!" he laughed.

"Well, I have an unhealthy attraction to morons!"

"Was that me? Am I supposed to be a moron?" He asked in a mock-hurt way that cracked me up. Believe me it was funny the way he said it.

"Yes!" I squealed falling into peels of laughter.

Good naturedly, Tyler laughed along. He had a smooth, rich laugh that made him sound more rugged than he actually was. It was laugh designed of an older time, for a chuckle between puffs on a pipe, all the while swirling a glass of port in his hand. I'll just say it turned me on, immensely. "Very funny," he said derisively, "So, kiddo, can I ask what you're wearing?" The schizophrenic mood of the conversation veered back to sexual.

I could have lied about my attire but I honesty was the policy of the day. "Ummm… just a light grey T-shirt and some baggy tracksuit pants. Really sexy!" I laughed.

"And what about under that?" he probed.

"Well, no bra," I purred, wondering if he would find that sexy and then I remembered what else I was wearing. "And a pink lace thong…" I coyly squeaked.

"One of these things are not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong," sung Tyler. It was the old Sesame Street song but he sung it slow and sexy. "What's with the super sexy panties, Missy?"

"I'm celebrating," I confessed quietly.

"Celebrating what?"

"My period ended last night."

The sexy mood suddenly dropped. "Wow… congratulations! How was it?" I love how earnest he was about it too. He knew it was a big deal to me.

"Not too bad actually," I admitted and it was true. Mum says that us Taylor girls are blessed with very mild periods, it was a small blessing but one I appreciated.

"So Little Miss Taylor decided to put on her skimpiest, sexiest little thong to celebrate, is that right?" I could almost hear his imagination running riot.

"Uh-huh…" I lifted the elastic band on my pants and peered down at my incredibly small panties. They were severely pink and ultra lacy, a one-two knockout punch to what was left of my masculinity. "So, what are you wearing?" I asked as I gently rubbed myself through the thin pink material.

"Well," Tyler explained, "I was asleep on my couch when you called. Had to run and grab the phone from the bedroom when you rang. I'm just in my boxers." I pictured his ripped body and shivered with pleasure.

"Mmm…" I moaned as if he was describing a delicious cake. There was a noise from my end of the phone line so explained it to Tyler, "That's the sound of me taking off my sneakers and pants, if you were curious. I mean it's not fair on you that you're talking to me practically naked and I'm all dressed, you know?"

"It's that sort of rational thinking that makes you so sexy."

"Sure, I totally believe it's my rationality that you're thinking of while your stroking your cock." I couldn't believe what came out of my mouth and I was glad that Tyler couldn't see the look of utter surprised on my face.

"Wow Gemma. You're so dirty! I just can't stop thinking about how you woke me up the other night with you hot, juicy lips wrapped around my cock." Tyler one-upped me. I never used to be competitive, but since I became beautiful and successful and a little attention needing, my competitive streak was hard to suppress.

"Too bad it was just a one time thing, isn't it Tyler?" I teased him for making a very rational, very mature decision. Not the most adult thing to do but it was fun.

"Why? What would you do to me?" He was now caught in the web of my feminine wiles.

"Well, I love the taste of that big meaty cock of yours. So I would start sucking that right away," I purred. This was the start of phone sex. I knew what was happening and I didn't find it alarming or revolting — I was excited!

"Yes, good girl. Would you look up at me with those big green eyes of yours while you sucked? You looked so pretty when you did that."

"I wouldn't take my eyes off you!" I moaned.

My legs involuntarily spread as I scooted the panties off to one side. I teased the velvety folds of my soft, pink pussy with my fingers as I listened to Tyler. "Well, when you were done, I'd play with those pink, little nipples of yours. Twisting them, tweaking them, kneading those big fluffy pillows. Are you playing with your nipples now?"

Despite my nipples threatening to rip holes out of my T-shirt my mind was somewhere else. "Well, more of the focus is between my legs actually."

"Oh really?" questioned Tyler, "Well, I would love to play around down there, let my tongue explore your damp caverns."

That sort of talk really got me going. Our little tryst was too short to involve any cunnilingus and a large part of my mind wondered what that would be like. "Would you go deep?"

"As deep as I could go. I bet you taste as sweet as you smell." From his staggered breaths it was obvious that he was as horny as I was and was taking care of it in the same way.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," I moaned. I pushed my index finger into my waiting pussy. It was a poor substitute for Tyler's larger penis but it still felt great to be penetrated.

"My baby is playing with herself, isn't she?"

"Mmm hmmm," I confirmed his suspicions.

"Well, don't feel the need to talk. Just listen to my voice, Gemma. After licking your sweet pussy into a sexual frenzy, I'd stop. Your hips would buck unconsciously begging for penetrations. You're a sweet girl with dirty compulsions, Miss Taylor."

I drifted off into a dream world as Tyler painted me a very graphic picture of what he would do to me. It made me so aroused that I almost booked a plane for Sydney then and there. Each word was more lust-filled and erotic than the last. I said nothing but yelped little squeals of passion. A part of me knew what I was doing was wrong. But wrong and right had changed around so much lately I had no idea whether to listen to that part of me anymore. It was hard to know if Annette would approve of this or not. Anyway, I wasn't going to tell her.

Tyler was trained in the art of using words well, so it's no surprise that he had me gasping in pure bliss within a few short minutes. Two stiffened fingers thrust in and out of my warm slit with reckless passion. "Tyler!" I yelped as the warm blanket of the orgasm washed over me. "Arrgh!" I moaned. It seemed like each orgasm was better than the last these days and I wasn't upset with that at all. As I screamed I thought I heard Tyler grunt too. The thought of me getting off was getting him off.

"Wow! I didn't expect that to happen when you finally called back," Tyler gasped.

"I know, it kinda just happened." The truth is nothing just happens. He wanted it and I guess, secretly, I wanted it too. I reclined on my bed, hugging my breasts with one hand and holding the phone to my ear with the other.

"I think we share a strong sexual bond," he told me. He could have just as easily said 'I love you' and try and trick me into more sex but he was honest. "But it's not going to work out for us at the moment. I couldn't be your boyfriend, not for a few years anyway."

"I know," I sighed, "But can we keep fooling around like this? I really, really enjoy it. Annette's always imploring me to go out and experience new things. And it'd be fun having someone as gorgeous as you to experiment with."

"Gemma, we can't have a casual thing. You are all the way in Marrang, I'm in Sydney. You might get hurt!" It was almost like a threat. Like a promise that he would cheat on me.

"And then I'll learn stuff about getting hurt! It's all experience, Tyler."

"Gemma, you know plenty about pain already with all that you've gone through. You don't deserve another droplet of pain for the rest of your life and I certainly don't want to be responsible for any of your suffering. You're too special to me." It was confusing to my schoolgirl brain, if he liked me so damn much why didn't we want to be with me?

"So, this is another one-off thing again?" I asked glumly.

" 'Fraid so, kiddo," was the reply.

"This is the second one of those… The second one-off thing." I thought it was important to point out that fact to him.

"And there won't be a third one-off thing, either," Tyler told me.

"You sound so sure of that, Mr. Perry," I said in my best femme fatale voice, "As if you had the power to turn me down. I'm pretty sure you're addicted to me."

"And you sound pretty sure of that, Missy. I can quit you anytime," he retorted. I liked it when we teased each other like this. This sort of to-and-fro was what I wanted in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. I lay back on my bed and pictured how awesome we would be together, joke-fighting and making love. Damn, I wish I were older!

"Am I still invited to your Deb Ball?" There was the proof that he was still addicted to me right there.

The truth was I was still unsure if I was Deb Ball bound myself, but I wanted to see more of Tyler. "Ummm… Of course you are. I'll keep you posted on the details."

"Goodnight my little filthy princess," he bid me adieu.

"Sweet dreams guy who is obviously addicted to me."

He added a little "Speak to you soon," before we hung up. I knew he wasn't my boyfriend but it sure felt like we were going out. I plugged my phone into it's battery charger and flicked through a few pictures I had taken with it. Me in Sydney. Tyler in Sydney. Me and Tyler in Sydney.

Well, according to the clock the day was almost at an end. Only a few more minutes had to flicker and burn and then this day would only be know as 'back then' and 'before'. As each day disappeared into the ether of memories I realized that I had been a girl for another 24 hours. I stood up and looked at my slightly dishevelled image in the mirror. Today I talked to Annette about some of my problems and she sent me to Dot, who sent me to Tyler. One of my major problems — the question of my sexuality — seemed to be answered now.

I was a girl,

who liked boys.

And I wasn't too upset by that at all.

I was feeling better about myself. I still had some ways to go but I had taken the first major step.

****

As always, feel free to email me any comments, questions or criticisms to [email protected] The response I get to this story is amazing. Thank you so much to everyone who has ever e-mailed or commented, it means a huge amount.