Totally Insane 16–Excoriations.
by Angharad
I went to bed and blushed when I saw my jewellery box. I was sure it was glowing in the dark, the pills were incandescent. I tossed and turned for some time. I wanted to take them so badly, yet I knew how mad my parents would be if I did. I tried to console myself with the fact that they would take months to have any effect and the strip was for one month. So even if I took them, it would make little or no difference to my body. Which meant I could take them, didn’t it? Or did it.
I went for a wee at one o’clock, everyone was in bed and sleeping–except me–I was sat on the loo and worrying. I went back to bed and did eventually go to sleep, I must have done because I woke up in tears.
I took all of the pills and they did have an effect, one of my boobs grew, very large but the other stayed flat. Every where I went people laughed at me. Even Philip was embarrassed by me and stopped seeing me. I woke up crying with my mother standing by the side of my bed and holding my hand.
“It’s okay, Kylie, just a bad dream. Come on, off you go to sleep again, there’s a good girl.”
When I heard her say, ’good girl’ I knew everything was okay and I could sleep properly.
I might have slept properly but I woke up because Mummy was practically pulling me out of my bed, “Come along, Kylie, time to rise and shine. Come on, what are you going to wear today, remember we have to go to the clinic this afternoon. So wear something suitable for that.”
“Um yeah,” I said and pulled the bedclothes back over me. I had just gone back to sleep when I shrieked. She’d returned with a wet flannel and wiped my feet with it. It was horrible. I couldn’t stay in bed with cold wet feet and so had to get up.
I showered, well part of me was wet anyway, and I stepped out of the bathroom with towels wrapped around me when, Brian the Barbarian, pushed past me and grabbed the bath towel I had wrapped around my chest. I shrieked again and he chuckled. “What’s the point of having a little sister if I can’t torment her?”
“You big bully,” I shouted at him.
A voice from downstairs called up, “Brian, leave Kylie alone.” He just laughed again. I don’t know why I squealed, it’s not as if I had anything to hide under the towel, except my dangly bits, and he’d seen those often enough when we went swimming. Suddenly now, things were different. I was embarrassed to be seen naked by him–I was a girl, sort of. Silly, but that’s how I felt. The problem is, I’d also be as embarrassed undressing in front of other girls. If that ever happens, unless they can do the operation next week, I’ll have to pretend to be pathawotsit shy. Mind you the way things are going, I might be by then.
As I pulled on my panties and bra, shoving in my pretend boobs, I hoped that none of that would happen at Gemma’s. Unless she was inviting me to give all the other girls a laugh at my expense. My whole body shuddered at this. She wouldn’t do that, would she? No, surely not, she’s my friend. Besides, her mother would be really upset and would tell my mother and they’d give her what for.
I looked in the mirror as I pushed my head and hands through the pink jumper and pulled it down over my body. Then the dark pink skirt and waistcoat, some knee length socks and my black strapped shoes. They have a little heel about four centimetres and they clop when I walk on the road. They sound really girly and I like them.
I brushed my hair and after dividing it into three strands, tried plaiting it like Auntie Emma had shown me. It sort of worked. I went down and Mummy looked at my hair and smiled. “Come here,” she said sighing and turned me around so she could get at my hair.
She redid it, and it immediately felt better. “Thank you,” I said smiling.
“Who showed you how to do that?”
“Auntie Emma.”
“You really are getting all girly aren’t you?”
“I suppose so, am I doing wrong?”
“No, sweetheart, I just wonder why we didn’t see any of this before. I mean, in two weeks, the boy you used to be has almost completely disappeared. Where has all this come from?”
“All what?” asked my dad.
“Kylie tried to plait her hair…”
“Looks okay to me, hello, sweetie-pie,” he pecked me on the cheek.
“Yes because I just redid it for her.”
“So what’s the problem?” asked my dad.
“It isn’t a problem, I just wondered why she’s become so girlish in such a short time.”
“Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to happen, you know, when you stop suppressing it. Ask Andrea Schlessinger, you’re okay to take her, I’ve got to see the big boss.”
“Yes, Darling, I’m fine to take her.” Whilst they were talking, I went and got my Rice Crispies and sat at the table eating them. Mummy came and made some fresh tea, except for Daddy, he has coffee at breakfast.
“Gemma is coming over this evening, is that all right?”
“I suppose so, why?”
“Why is she coming?”
“Presumably to see you, why are you asking? You never did as a boy.”
“I thought I’d better tell you, that’s all.”
“Oh, yes, it’s fine with me. Try and do some schoolwork this morning at Emma’s.”
“I will, Mummy.”
“Have you finished your breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Let me show you how to do a stew in the slow cooker…” For the next half an hour she had me slicing onions and carrots, peeling garlic and flouring bits of stewing beef, frying them to seal in the flavour and then transferring it all to the slow cooker, putting in some water and some more vegetables, and sticking the lid on the top. “There, that’ll be done by the time we come home, all we’ll need to do is put some potatoes on.”
It already smelt good, and Brian said so when he came down. “Aw we having steak, like, for breakfast?”
“No for dinner, beef stew.” My mother said as she helped me clean up the chopping boards.
“With dumplings?”
“No, Brian, you want dumplings, you make them. I haven’t got time.”
“What about the maid, can’t she do them?”
“What?” said my mother in astonishment, then saw his joke. “No she can’t, I haven’t shown her how to do them, and I don’t have any suet.” She quickly gobbled down a slice of toast and went off to work, “I’ll be back at about twelve thirty, Kylie, don’t get too messy.”
I’m a girl, we don’t do messy! Besides, this was brand new outfit and I wasn’t going to get it messy. Famous last words.
As soon as Brian left, I pulled on my jacket and grabbed my bag and went down the local corner shop. It sells everything, well nearly everything. I think it might not be able to get you a tyre for a bike, but it’s not a bike shop. As I wandered in, I suddenly realised I hadn’t been there since my changeover. Mr Papagopolis, the owner knows me because I unjammed his lock when some vandal put superglue in it. He always gives me sweets or an apple when I go there.
“Hello, young lady.” I could feel his eyes boring into me. I didn’t have any makeup on and I had a horrible feeling he was about to recognise me. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea.
“Hello, Mr Papagopolis, have you any suet?”
“But of course,” he led me to the aisle where it was and handed me the box, the price was on it. I took my purse out of my bag and paid him the correct money.
Usually, he would be chattering like a deranged monkey, but today he was silent. Did he recognise me or not? I was blushing like a light bulb. “You remind me of someone,” he said, and I blushed even brighter. I didn’t know what to do, should I tell him, or should I just leave. Why weren’t there any other customers?
“Do I?” I said innocently.
“Does your mother know you dress up like this?”
My stomach leapt up to my throat and back down again. “Yes, she did my hair for me,” I said in very small voice. I could feel tears forming in my eyes.
“You make a very pretty girl,” he smiled at me, and I suspect he was as embarrassed as I was.
“Thank you. I am a girl really.” I sniffed back the tears.
“Really, well I hope you’ll be happier then, don’t forget to come and see me from time to time.” He handed me an apple, “You’ll have to watch your figure,” he winked and I thanked him and left.
I dashed home, my plan needed the cooperation of another person, Auntie Em. I knocked at her door and she let me in. “You’re later today, Kylie.”
“Yes, I had to go down the shop to get some suet.”
“Suet?”
“Yes, can you show me how to make dumplings?”
“Dumplings?” she asked laughing, “Of course I can, let's get Sarah sorted.”
We did both, once again I bathed and changed Sarah and dressed her. I fed her with the bottle of expressed milk her mother had prepared. I really enjoyed doing this, how sad I would never have my own babies to look after.
“Have you ever thought about being a nursery nurse or a midwife, you’re so good with babies.”
I hadn’t thought about much at all. I’d intended to become a locksmith, but babies were much more fun than locks. Locks don’t gurgle when you tickle them. I explained about the dumplings and Auntie Emma conspired with me, we made them and I ran home and put them in the stew, which smelt absolutely delish.
I ran back and disaster struck, I stepped on a wet leaf, flew head over heels into the hedge, my face making contact with the wall behind it. For a moment I lay there, then my head started to hurt and I tried to get myself up but was all tangled up in the thorns of the Pyrocanthus. I couldn’t move. I began to cry.
Eventually, Auntie Emma came to see where I was, “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed and helped to unhitch me from the vicious thorns. It took ages and it hurt, my top and skirt were all torn and muddy and I was cut and scratched all over.
Finally she managed to get me up, “Okay, let me get Sarah and I’ll be right over, go to your house and find something else to wear, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
I let myself in and went up to my room, I was whimpering to myself, it all hurt. I took off the skirt and let it lie on the floor, even my panties were muddy and my legs were all scratched. I dumped the waistcoat on top of the skirt and started to pull at the jumper, it was stuck to me and hurt as I got it off. Auntie Em came rushing up the stairs calling my name. She saw the cuts and scratches and said, “Oh poor, Kylie.” I so wanted a hug but I felt too sore.
“Come on, in the bathroom, let’s get the dirt off and then I can do some dressings. That’s what we did, the water hurt, so did the antiseptic and she stuck a plaster or two on the worst cuts. My face had some nasty scratches on my cheeks and nose, and I had a bruise on my forehead–thanks to the brick wall. I suppose the thorns could have caught my eye, so I was lucky, but I didn’t feel it, everywhere stung and ached.
We were still there when my mother came home, I had just dressed in another top and skirt. I had a plaster on my knee and one on my elbow. Auntie Emma told her what had happened. She came and hugged me, it hurt, but I needed it and promptly burst into tears.
“Do you want me to cancel the clinic?” she asked me. Part of me did, but part of me wanted the magic pills. If I didn’t see her, I’d never get them. I had to go, I had no choice. I had also discovered one of the down sides of girl’s shoes and clothes, they are more slippery in the wet and skirts don’t protect you as well as trousers do when you try high speed gardening.
Mummy thanked Auntie Em for taking care of me, and she gave me another hug, “You silly goose, now you know why girls tend to walk most of the time.” She made us a sandwich, and then went to stir the stew. “What are these?” she looked at me and I smirked. “Kylie Mosse, who’s been putting dumplings in my stew?”
I explained and she hugged me again, it wasn’t quite so sore this time. “I shall make sure that Brian knows his little sister nearly killed herself doing his dumplings.”
“Mr Papagopolis recognised me too.”
“You bought the suet there?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He said I made a very pretty girl.”
“Oh, pity you didn’t go now, he wouldn’t have recognised you at the moment.” We both laughed at that. I had been intending to put some make up on to go to see Dr Andrea, but now, it didn’t seem to make much sense. So I didn’t.
We got to the clinic at three, and went straight in. “What on earth have you been up to?” Dr Andrea said to me.
“I fell in a thorn bush this morning.”
“Ouch, I’ll bet you won’t need to do that again?”
“No,” I laughed.
“You didn’t pull off your dangly bits?”
“I wish,” I said and laughed again.
“Just thought it might have saved some time later,” she said winking at me. Mummy gave a report and told her about the fight, then she went out to the waiting room and I talked with the doctor on my own for a bit.
“When can I start growing my own boobs instead of these stupid foam thingies?” I said poking myself in the chest.
“You mean when can you take hormones?”
“Yes.”
“Not for a bit.” I felt myself start to tear up, and she saw the teardrop roll down my cheek. “Now hang on a second there, Missy, because I think I can give you some pills to stop you turning into a boy. I need to talk this over with your mum, but even if you were a normal girl, you might not have anything budding here yet.” She indicated my chest.
I sobbed, I really, really wanted my own boobs, so that everyone would know I was a girl not a fake. She called Mummy back in and discussed what she was proposing to do, to prescribe androgen blockers, which would stop my body becoming masculine and give her a chance to assess me a bit longer. The official policy was not to prescribe until sixteen, but she felt that was too slow. However, I could change my mind before then in which case a boy with boobs and big hips could have problems.
I waited outside for a bit while she spoke with Mummy, then we went home. The next appointment would be in another week. We had a prescription to get as well. It was for Miss Kylie Mosse and I felt quite proud of it. Recognition at last, and I suppose not turning into a boy was the next best thing to turning into a girl.
We got the pills on the way home, it was only after we got back in the car with my precious pills, that I realised the chemist might have known why I was having them. He did give me some funny looks which I thought was because of the scratches on my face. We didn’t use one of Daddy’s shops in case it embarrassed him.
Back home, I changed into some jeans and a tee shirt , and helped Mummy do the vegetables, potatoes and so on. She also put a tin of tomatoes into the stew and stirred it around, then some thickening for the gravy.
Brian was first home, he did a double take with my scratches. “What happened to you, lose a fight with a cat?”
“ She fell in a thorn bush,” said my mother without turning around.
“Silly moo,” he replied.
“Enough of that, it only happened because she was making dumplings for her big brother”
“What?” he looked somewhat perplexed.
“She was rushing to put the dumplings in the stew when it happened.”
“What?” He began to look around the kitchen for invisible thorn bushes.
“She made them at Emma’s house.”
“Ah,” I could almost see the light come on. “Yeah, that hedge is wicked. Tough luck, Sis, there’s like, no blood in the dumplings is there?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Brian. Instead of asking silly questions, you might thank her for making them for you.”
“Oh yeah, like thanks, Sis,” he went off up the stairs shouting, “it smells good Ma.”
“I’ll ma you, you cheeky hound.”
Daddy was concerned when he saw my face and Mummy told him I was covered in scratches. He was even more concerned when he learned I was on anti-androgens.
“Horrible things, you’ll need regular blood tests to check for liver damage.” That really made my day, I hate needles, unless they were going to give me boobs.
At seven thirty, almost on the dot, Gemma arrived and we went up to my bedroom. She asked to see my wounds and gasped when I showed them to her. She gave me a hug for being a brave girl. I began to wonder if she thought I was seven not eleven. Okay, she’ll be twelve at the weekend, but even so. She’s also got boobs starting, I know ‘cos I felt them when she hugged me. Lucky girl.
We looked at my wardrobe and she said loads of my stuff would be okay, the top, leggings and skirt I wore to the doctor the first time would be okay. I showed her my nighties and my PJs, she thought the PJs might be better as no one would be able to accidentally see up them. I duly noted these points and we chatted then about other things, including the fight.
About half past eight, she said her mum was coming to get her, and she needed to speak to my mother. We trouped down to the kitchen. “Mrs Mosse, I’m having a birthday party next Saturday, can Kylie come?”
“I don’t see why not, I presume you want to go, hence the delegation?” She looked at me as she spoke.
“Yeah, like course, I do, Mummy.”
“Yes then, now what’s the catch?” How did she do that? How did she know?
“It’s a sleepover.”
“Oh is it? You’re well aware of Kylie’s little problem?”
“Yes, it won’t be a problem, we all change separately anyway.”
“I suppose so.”
“Thanks, Mummy.”
“Don’t forget to bring your sleeping bag,” she said as she heard her mother’s car pull up outside, we hugged and she left.
“You’d better ask Brian, it’s his sleeping bag,” my mother reminded me.
“Oh yeah, I’d like forgotten that.”
“Ask him to get it out, it might need a wash.”
I walked up to his room where he was playing some computer game, “Hey, Sis, those dumplings were like, okay.”
“Can I borrow your sleeping bag?”
“What for?”
“To go to a sleepover at Gemma’s next Saturday.”
“Geez, girl, you like, get all the luck. Sleeping with all those chicks, hoowee!”
“It isn’t the same when you’re one of them,” I pointed out as he dug out his sleeping bag from the bottom of his bedroom cupboard.
“Oh no, I suppose not. Don’t you like, feel anything in your doodah, when you see naked chicks?”
“No. Thanks,” I said taking the sleeping bag which smelt like a pair of old socks. Didn’t he wash anything? I took it downstairs and shoved it straight in the washing machine.
“That bad, huh?” commented my mother and we both laughed. “If there was any doubt that you were a girl, I think this would take it away. A boy would have slept in that.”
“You’re like, joking, it stinks.”
“Only to a girl’s nose.” She handed me the detergent and conditioner, and told what setting to put it on. Then we went off to have a cup of tea and a chat with my dad.
Thanks to Gabi for express editing and improvements.
Comments
Hoping
... that Kylie finds a way to start her hrt before the age 13 for the best skeletal/body growth into a female and go through a female puberty. Delayed puberty stoppage doesn't stop masculisation very well. The goal of every m to f is to stealth or be the best possible looking they can and early hrt is the only way. I had to start my hrt on my own in self medicating since I kept running into roadblocks that had no business being there. I did get checkups from a doctor to monitor me but was not allowed to prescribe since Im on state welfare for medical. Virginia State rules forbid assisting tg's in transitioning.
Sephrena Lynn Miller
BigCloset TopShelf
I disagree
That's not the only goals of MtFs mew. I'm perfectly happy being out, in fact I see it as if my being out can help the younger generation, then it's something I'd love to do. I could care less about "stealth." I accept who I am, and love who I am mew, to me Stealth doesn't work, for others it may. However someone had to be unstealth for us to get as far as we've gotten, and I plan to be one of those people mew. I plan to make as much noise as I have to help this community. To stand up for our rights, and the rights of every LGBT person, and really any person. LGBT or not, we all deserve rights mew ^^
Also, skeletal matters nothing, there are plenty of genetic women who have skeletons that appear male, just like their are genetic men that have skeletons that appear female mew. I think to begin healing for our community we need to not worry so much about the physical, sure surgeries and things are sometimes needed, I know I need them, but other things like bone structure or things we can't change, we need to learn to be happy with who we are mew. I don't see myself as a transsexual woman, I see myself as a girl with a physical problem mew. Finding just the right amount of surgery, and hormones or even just clothes that makes us happy is the goal mew. Find what makes us feel good, and dont' worry about the rest. We aren't required as transsexuals to get the operation, some may not need it mew, and some transition isn't for, like that writer that recently detransitioned. He jumped into things too fast but luckily discovered that it wasn't for him. Unfortunately he made such a big mark, that this is going to bite us back mew. And it's sad, but... what can we do. Anyway mew, I know I"ve said too much but I'm just hoping the people on this site will learn to love themselves mew. I love myself, and it's made me so much happier mew ^^
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
High Speed Gardening
You've got some great little tidbits sprinkled throughout your story. I love it.
Kylie still has a bit of boyishness in her (i.e. running and doing the thorn bush tango) but hopefully that'll be controlled enough to set her on the right path.
I'm a little concerned about her possible self-medication but at least it sounds like she'll be monitored so it should be okay in the end.
Thanks for continuing this story. I look forward to reading more of it.
- Terry
Sweetie
There's nothing wrong with a little bit of boyishness, no girl acts completely as society states as a "girl" should be mew. Just be yourself, and not worry about what is seen as boy or girl ^^ That's what we do mew ^^
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
I Stand Partially Corrected by Omission
Okay. I'm not sure myself what I meant by my subject line.
I agree with you that there is no "one" explicit behavior that can be completely feminine or masculine. It all comes down to probabilities. If a certain person has a certain collection of behaviors, then there's a certain probability that person will be a certain gender. But consider the complexity of my previous sentence. It's MUCH easier to just say that someone who giggles a lot, loves dolls and dresses in dresses is a girl, even if that girl is male.
Aside from my previous, bloated paragraph, I also meant that Kylie will be (mostly) free of testosterone and its effects. That's really the boyishness I refer to.
Mew! Woof! *giggle* Playdough! :)
- Terry
Well
Not necessarily mew ^^ I know boys who love to crossdress, and sometimes giggle, not all the time, but remember that not all girls giggle like dolls, or love dresses. My mother HATES dresses, she's a tomboy, I had to teach her how to do her nails mew, but my mother is all woman ^^ I understand where you are coming from mew, so please don't take this as an insult. I just want you to know that the behavior isn't what makes a girl a girl, or a boy a boy, it's what's in your heart and soul mew ^^
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
“Girls giggle like dollsâ€
How does a girl giggle like a doll?
I'm intrigued—this is something completely new to me.
Gabi
Gabi.
Oh jeez
I meant a comma in there mew ^^'
"Not all girls giggle, like dolls, or like dresses. That's what it was supposed to say xD Still thanks for pointing that out, it made me giggle xD
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
Nice...
We all have accidents at one time or another. I'm glad she was able to withstand the temptation of the pills in her jewelry box. Getting the Anti-androgens is a big step though. I can think of quite a few that would have liked that to happen to them.
Putting the bag away with washing... EWWWW. Makes me cringe a bit, just thinking about it.
Thank you for this little bit of insanity.
Annette
I do hope the word is getting out.
I had not heard of the man who de-transitioned. For a minute I wondered if someone thought that I had. I know that I have been very vocal lately about things but I am very happy for myself that I am a woman now.
As with many of us, the only anguish I feel is the loss of a family that I was extraordinarily co-dependent with. Intellectually I know that their rejection of me means that they never really loved me. It is hard to get that into the heart though.
Would I try to de-transition if I could gain their favor? Probably, I would but no one I know thinks that it would work out. Hopefully, public education will someday make those sorts of decisions unnecessary.
Much love
Gwen
That Kylie,
She is learning and now her brother is acting like a brother should towards her.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Little dumpling
Nice chapter. I feel so much affection for Kylie; it's such a good story.
So Much For Your Self-Doubts
I hope I haven't missed anything because I'm travelling and don't have continuous computer access, but when you came back from your holiday you were expressing doubts about whether you should keep writing. Well, from where I'm sitting those doubts are proved to be completely unfounded by this lovely chapter in Kylie's saga. You've even managed to turn Brian into a semblance of a human being and I hated him with a passion when you began this series. There , you see, you can make me and I'm sure, many others, relate to and care about your characters. If that isn't a sign of a good writer I don't know what is,
Joanne
Read through some of the comments as
well, and between the 4 of us have not seen any slacks, shorts or trousers(would have said pants but was pm'd by a Scot that it meant something other than what I had learned in the States.) About the house for a couple of months. lots of bikinis though.
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
Oh double ouch
Pyrocanthus thorns are nasty, as the tips of the thorn can break off and lodge in the skin--been there, done that, got the tee-shirt.
Ever since Brian came to Kylie and Philip's rescue, he's become a bit more civil towards Kylie. Now if he'd take better care of himself.
Kylie needs to slow down and let her body progress as it will progress, and not take things into her own hands with those pills. Andrea needs to level with Kylie about rushing things, how more harm can be done than good if things are rushed. Kylie already has boy preventing pills so she needs to be satisfied with that one victory.
Others have feelings too.