By that evening Fred was convinced that the lab tests would come back positive for a fungal/virus infection. Helen's resolve to transform her irascible son into a demure girl like Leslie had been firmly reinforced. Heath was irrevocably committed to becoming Heather by his parents.
By Monday morning Heath, despite the tranquilizers and sedatives, was quite distraught over the prospect of becoming a girl. Every time someone entered his room he began crying and begging them to help him escape. "Please help me. I don't want to be turned into a girl," he cried plaintively.
The nursing staff had been informed of Heath's fungal/virus infection and the radical treatment that was going to be used to eliminate it. Dr. Trate's reputation was such that no one questioned her diagnosis, especially as she was taking a risk by delaying the surgery until she received confirmation by the lab that her conclusion was correct. Little did anyone know that Dr. Trate owned the lab and that the results would confirm her diagnosis. The nurses simply tried to comfort Heath and waited.
Dr. Trate met with Fred and Helen just after noon. She showed them the lab report which confirmed her diagnosis. Fred numbly signed the release forms. Helen barely controlled her rush of anticipation. Within a few hours her problem son would be her darling daughter.
Moments later Heath looked up as Dr. Trate entered his room. "Did you get the results," he whispered hoping beyond hope to avoid his girlish fate.
"Yes," Dr. Trate smiled as she slipped a syringe into the IV and flooded the narrow tube with a powerful sedative that would knock Heath out in a few seconds.
Heath felt a warm rush flood through his body as his eyes suddenly grew heavy. Valiantly he fought to stay conscious, to somehow struggle to save his manhood. Yet everything began to turn grey. As everything went black the last thing he saw was Dr. Trate's smiling face. The last thing he felt before losing all tactile sensation was Dr. Trate tenderly mopping his sweating brow. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was Dr. Trate softly say "You're going to go to sleep. When you wake up you'll be a very pretty teenage girl."
The surgery was quite successful. The flesh covering Heath's male genitalia was deftly cut open so that the soft inner tissues could be removed. The main nerve bundle that provides the tip of the penis with such exquisite sensitivity was saved. A small amount of the fleshy erectile tissue was also saved as was the urethra. The skin of the penis was sewn back together, turned in upon itself to form a flesh-lined tube, and inserted into his body to serve as a vagina. The prostate gland was retained but the tube that ducts the seminal fluid to the testicles to pick up sperm was rerouted to attach at the closed deep end of the newly created vagina. The seminal fluid would act to keep the flesh from growing together and also serve as a natural lubricant for intercourse. The urethra was shortened and relocated to simulate a normal female urinary opening. The salvaged bundle of nerves was attached to the remodeled urethra and padded by the salvaged erectile tissue to form what would become a highly sensitive and quite functional clitoris once healed. Then the excess flesh of his scrotum was refashioned to form the fleshy folds and lips typical on the exterior of female genitalia.
Dr. Trate also did some plastic surgery on Heath's face. First she gave him higher cheeks and added just a hint of permanent blush to give him a rosy cherubic appearance. She shaved his Adam's apple and rounded his chin. Then she set to work on his nose, turning it into a quintessentially girlish cute upturned button nose. Next she pinned his ears back and triple pierced them. One by one she permanently implanted long thick lashes into his eyes and added just enough permanent eye liner to highlight his eyes without looking obviously made up. A bit of electrolysis was used to give him permanently arched delicate girlish eyebrows. Finally a permanent soft baby pink color was used to give him innocent girlishly pouty lips.
Once the genital reconstruction was completed, an electrolysist reshaped his boyish pubic hair into dainty heart-shaped girlishness. The last thing Dr. Trate did was to go over Heath's entire body to carefully remove any traces of scarring that had resulted from his rough boyish life. Once all the surgery was completed, Heath was kept sedated to allow the wounds a few days to begin the healing process undisturbed by movement.
During the next few days Fred was busily tying up loose ends at the office, signing a rental management contract for the long term rental of their home, and making financial arrangements with the bank. Hillary had the company lawyers put a legal name and gender change through the courts so that the boy, Heath Lee Reilly, ceased to exist while a girl, Heather Lynne Reilly, came into existence. The lawyers also drew up a long term temporary custody agreement so that she could properly raise Heather while Fred and Helen were in Africa. Helen, assisted by Joyce, began packing what she and Fred wanted to take with them to Africa. Joyce, with her insight in raising a girl and knowing how she intended to reeducate Heather, was a great help when it came to deciding what Heather might want from her former possessions. The remained of the possessions were divided into items for long term storage, donation to charity, or to remain as furnishings for the new occupants.
With all these quite hectic activities, coupled with regular inquiries on Heather's status, the next few days flew by. On Thursday morning Dr. Trate decided that Heather had healed enough to allow her to regain consciousness. The sedatives were discontinued in Heather's IV.
It was late Thursday afternoon when Heath awoke. His mouth felt as dry as a desert. As tactile sensations returned, he sensed that his face was swathed in bandages. His nose had a steady dull ache. An even duller pain emanated from between his legs. As he tried to move, he discovered he was quite thoroughly tied down. Panic engulfed him as full consciousness returned. Nurses bustled about his bed, checking his pulse and other things. All softly cooed to him and tried to sooth him.
"You're doing fine, Heather." "Everything will work out for the best, darling." "We understand how you feel, being forcibly transformed into a girl, but there really was no other choice. Just give it a chance and you'll love being a pretty girl." "Dr. Trate is the best surgeon in town and she took special care of you so you'll be the cutest girl in town." "I'm sure you'll be delighted with how pretty Dr. Trate has made you."
With these mental prods he recalled why he was in the hospital. A shiver of terror and dread swept his restrained body.
Memories of his encounter with the Leprechaun leap into his mind. The little man's last words burned into his consciousness:
"Boys seek to catch Leprechauns for wishes three;
will young boys learn not to mess with folks wee?
Whenever they catch us we twist their desire;
those aggressive boys never children will sire!
Thanks to me Heath Reilly will soon be no more;
another pesky boy, I've silenced his roar.
As a lover he wanted many a girl;
Now it's him whom before boys his skirts will swirl!
Heather Reilly's beauty will make boys' knees weak;
many boys his girlish affection will seek.
I know you can hear me in your oak bower;
know, lad, your wishes have been granted this hour."
Tears of frustration filled his eyes as he knew that the Leprechaun's curse had been fulfilled. With this he also recalled the last thing Dr. Trate had told him.
"Oh God, they did it," his mind cried out. "They operated on me and turned me into a girl! No! No! No!"
The mental anguish and anger lasted about twenty minutes. Once the fury had wasted itself, he began to cry softly. The nurses did all they could to ease his suffering.
By Thursday evening Heath was able to sit up in bed. The bandages were still in place and a catheter took care of nature's call. Helen, Fred, Leslie, Hillary, Joyce, and Dr. Trate were with the morose former lad.
"We'll stop in to say goodbye in the morning before we leave," Helen whispered as she blinked back tears. All the effort she'd expended to create her daughter and now she had to leave her behind.
"We'll call every day until you're discharged," Fred promised. “Then once a week after you're home. We'll be in our new home within a few days. We'll give you the phone number as soon as we get it so you can call us anytime you want. We'll set up an e-mail account so we can communicate on line."
"We'll have loads of fun living together, Heather," Leslie gushed. "I can't wait to get you home so you can try on some of my yummy outfits!"
"You'll have nothing to fear, young lady," Joyce soothed. "As your nanny I'll make sure no one hassles you in any way. Anyone who dares tease or torment you will have to answer to me."
"I'll be your legal guardian, sweet Heather," Hillary informed him. "While your parents are away, I'll see to it that you're pampered and spoiled."
"Heather, it will not do you any good to mope about your lost masculinity," Dr. Trate stated bluntly. "You know perfectly well why we had to perform the surgery. It's perfectly understandable that you would like to have someone to blame for your situation but you know there is no one to blame for what happened except yourself. The only extenuating circumstance that can excuse your actions is that they were in fact dictated by your raging testosterone. It's often been said that teenage boys think more with their sex organs than their brains. That often is quite true and doubly true in this situation. What has happened to you is because you allowed your testosterone-fed libido over rule your good judgement. Many boys on testosterone highs kill themselves in car crashes or get messed up on drugs. You know I'm right because you were doing drugs. You rode your bike like a hellion. You would have driven a car the same way. All because of the testosterone macho need to constantly prove your masculinity. Fortunately the only way we could save your life was also the solution to the testosterone dilemma. You will never again have to worry about thinking with your sex organs. The surgery I performed has effectively seen to it that something like this will never happen to you again. Testosterone will never again make you do something you normally would not do. You are quite lucky. You are also now a completely functional girl. There are no if's. There are no but's. There is only facts. Those facts are that you are no longer a boy. You can never again be a boy. You are a girl. I've seen to it that you will be a very pretty girl. You will live the rest of your life as a girl. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change those facts. So you have two choices. You can wallow in self-pity and waste away or you can grasp hold of the golden ring life has offered you. Grab hold of your new girlishness! Learn to enjoy being a girl! Get on with your life!"
Heath bit his lips and quivered with fear. All his life he'd looked upon girls as objects for derision. He had delighted in picking on girls, sometimes mischievously flipping their skirts. Once he'd entered puberty that changed to trying to peek under their skirts and having sexual fantasies about girls. But always they had seemed less than equal, almost as if girls had been put on the earth to serve as toys for boys. Now he was no longer a boy. He was a girl. Unwillingly he had changed sides in the war of the sexes. Now he would be sought after by other boys. He would be the object of the sexual fantasies of other boys. How could he be expected to handle that?
"Even though you are now a girl I'll speak to you one last time as a boy," Dr. Trate announced. "Heath, you were a proud boy. You were a tough boy. You were a boy who could do whatever he set his mind to do. You were a boy who boldly accepted challenges. You were an all-American red white and blue boy. Isn't that true?"
"Yeah," Heath answered in a soft whisper. "That's what's making it so hard for me to accept being turned into a dumb girl."
"I'll come back to your erroneous opinion that girls are dumb," Dr. Trate stated. "But I'm glad you admit that you were all boy. Now, I have a challenge for that boy. It's the most difficult challenge any boy can ever face. Are you up to that challenge?"
"I don't know," Heath hesitated.
"That doesn't sound like a big tough guy speaking," Dr. Trate declared disdainfully. "That sounds like a damn little sissy. Were you a sissy, Heath?"
"NO! I wasn't a sissy," Heath declared. "It's just that now things are different."
"Really," Dr. Trate asked. "Just because you lost your prized pecker and balls you're going to give up?"
"Why shouldn't I," Heath angrily declared. "How can I be a boy without my pecker and balls?"
"So in effect what you're telling me confirms what I stated earlier about boys thinking with their sex organs," Dr. Trate declared.
"No, that's not right, “Heath spat back. "Boys think with their brains too!"
"Is that so," Dr. Trate asked in a challenging tone.
"Yeah, that's so," Heath adamantly declared.
"Well consider this," Dr. Trate stated. "Boys think with their sex organs while girls do not. Do you know why? God gave man just enough blood to live and use his brain. He forgot to take into account the penis. It needs blood to enlarge so it can function. When the penis begins to function, the brain stops working because the penis is taking all the blood. That's why a guy thinks with his sex organs. God made a woman without a penis because he realized he'd goofed when he made man."
"That's not true," Heath declared although there was a strong tremor of doubt in his voice. "We guys can think with our brains any time."
"Very well, I guess in your case I believe you," Dr. Trate conceded. "Boys do sometimes think with their brains. It's quite obvious that you are thinking with a boy's brain right now because it's impossible for you to think with your sex organs. So in that way you still are a boy. Since you are a boy, I will make a challenge to your masculinity. I want to see just how tough a boy you are. The challenge I have is one that you are physically able to handle. The difficulty will be with your brain. As I said a moment earlier, it's the toughest challenge a boy can ever face. It will prove or disprove just how much of a man you really are. Now I ask you again, are you up to accepting this challenge?"
"If I can physically do it, yeah, I can accept the challenge," Heath declared with all the bravado he could muster.
"Very well," Dr. Trate declared. "The challenge is very simple. Heath, are you man enough to live the rest of your life as a girl?"
"Huh, what kind of a dumb challenge is that," Heath demanded.
"It's not a dumb challenge," Dr. Trate declared. "It's an honest challenge. Think about it. Isn't the toughest thing a guy can do is to become a girl? Won't that require every ounce of your determination and stamina?"
"Yeah," Heath replied uncertainly. "But what's the point?"
"The point is to prove to yourself and us just how tough you are," Dr. Trate explained. "Being tough is a very macho trait. It will be very tough for you to become a girl. Think about this in a positive way for a moment. You know that physically you are no longer a boy. You know that physically you are now a girl. It's only your mind that's still masculine. The only way you can prove your masculinity is to prove that you are tough. Now tell me honestly, isn't the toughest thing you can do is to become a girl?"
"Well, yeah," Heath responded in quite a perplexed voice. "The way you explain it the toughest thing I could do is to become a boy. I guess you’re right. The toughest thing any boy could do would be to become a girl. But that doesn't make sense."
"Of course it makes sense," Dr. Trate relied. "Considering your situation, is there anything else you could do that would be tougher?"
"No, there isn't." Heath replied with more than a hint of confusion.
"Well, then I challenge you to prove to us exactly how tough you are by becoming a girl," Dr. Trate once more challenged.
"You're trying to trap me into cooperating with this whole scheme to turn me into a girl," Heath declared indignantly.
"Perhaps," Dr. Trate conceded. "But look at things from another point of view. You are now physically a girl. I've done things to make sure that you are a very pretty girl. Anyone who sees you will see a girl. It really won't matter how you dress or behave, you'll still look like a girl. Now, if you insist on declaring that you are a boy people will think you're either crazy or the biggest sissy in the world. However, if you dress and behave in a manner consistent with your appearance, everyone will assume you're a pretty girl. Would you rather have everyone think you're a sissy or a girl?"
"If that's the only two options," Heath replied softly. "I'd rather be thought of as a girl. Anything's better than being a sissy."
"Precisely," Dr. Trate declared. "And those are your only two options. So you agree that it will be to your benefit to have everyone think that you are a girl."
"Yeah, I guess," Heath responded.
"There is no room for doubt," Dr. Trate stated firmly. "In order for people to think you are a girl and for them to treat you like a girl you will have to dress and behave like a girl. That is a must. To do otherwise will leave you a sissy."
"Okay, okay," Heath snapped back. "You made your point."
"Good," Dr. Trate said. "Now, that leaves only those of us in this room who know you are really a boy mentally. If you meekly slide into being a girl simply because you have no choice in the matter you will be showing us that you never really were much of a boy and had to be a big sissy. The only way you can prove to us that you are the toughest boy that ever existed is to accept the toughest challenge a boy can attempt. That challenge is to prove your manhood, to prove your toughness, by becoming a girl. Jump into this new existence with both feet. Grab it and run as if it were a football and you’re headed for the winning touchdown. Show us you were the worlds best boy by becoming the world's best girl!"
"All right already," Heath replied haplessly. "You've proved your point. I'll try to be the best g... g... girl I can," Heath sighed heavily and shivered before continuing. "But I want you all to know I won't like it and am only doing it because I really have no choice. I guess it is the last thing I can do to prove how tough I am."
"Great," Dr. Trate exclaimed. "I'm sure you'll prove your point to all of us. Now, one more thing. You made several comments about girls being dumb."
"All right, all right," Heath surrendered. "I know girls aren't dumb. It's just that according to the way a guy thinks, the ways girls think often seems dumb. It's just how girls arrive at their ideas of what's right and wrong is totally foreign to us guys."
"Well, be that as it may be, calling girls dumb is not acceptable," Dr. Trate insisted. "But then in a few weeks you'll be able to understand how girls think. Physically you're a girl. Without any testosterone your brain will be influenced by the deluge of female hormones engulfing your entire body. The female hormones will slowly rewire your brain so that you begin to think like a girl. Then you'll be in the unique position of being a girl who knows how guys think. Of course, that ability will fade. The longer you are a girl, the less you'll be able to understand how guys think. Eventually, you'll completely forget. Then you'll be just one of us girls."
Heath shivered and swallowed the bile he felt rising. "I'm really tired," Heath stated in a quiet voice. "This all a little too much to handle all at once."
"I think our darling little Heather is using her newly discovered girlishness to politely tell us she wants us all to leave," Dr. Trate laughed. "I think that's a good idea. Good night, young lady," she added as she blew Heath a kiss before leaving.
"Everything will be all right, Miss Heather," Joyce smiled as she patted his hand before leaving.
"Now you just get a good night's sleep, my darling second daughter," Hillary comforted him as she gave him a tender kiss on his forehead before she left.
"Oh Heather, we're going to have such fun! We'll be almost like twin sisters," Leslie giggled as she too kissed Heath on the forehead.
"Well, Heather, this is going to take quite a bit of adjusting, but you are my daughter now, so," with that Fred leaned over and gave the startled former boy a quick kiss on the forehead before fleeing the room.
Tears were filling Heath's eyes as his mother approached the bed. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. "Heather... I always dreamed of having a sweet daughter. Now that I finally have her, I must leave. It's really not fair. I love you," Helen stated as she leaned over and kissed her new daughter. Tears were in her eyes as she left the room.
"They all treated me like a girl," Heath softly cried aloud. "Mom thinks it's not fair! She ought to look at this mess from MY point of view. Even dad... I guess I really must be a girl now." Heath cried softly as he collapsed back onto the bed. He was totally helpless and his mind felt as if it was about to explode. With that Heath slipped into a bizarre dream.
"How did all this happen to me? It had to be that damn Leprechaun! I should have strangled him when I had the chance,” his battered boyhood inner voice (BBIV) proclaimed angrily.
"NO, that's simply horrid," exclaimed an offended timid sissy inner voice (TSIV) retorted saucily. "It's that type of thinking that got us in this mess in the first place."
"Oh shut up you little faggot," BBIV snapped at the long denied and suppressed portion of his mind. "You'll probably like being a dumb girl."
"I don't know about that," TSIV replied. "But I'll sure like it better than being the stupid jerk you made us be when you were in charge!"
"Well at least I was strong enough to be in charge," BBIV retorted. "I'm not a damn sissy faggot like you!"
"You can call me anything you like," TSIV laughed. "I can live in this body without balls and a dick. What are you going to do?"
"SHUT UP, damn it," BBIV exploded. "If I could get my hands on you I'd..."
"You'd try to do to me what you did to our balls and dick," TSIV laughed. "You abused them until you lost them. That's why I always stayed hidden, you jerk."
"Listen you little faggot, I knew you were in here," BBIV declared. "I was so ashamed of you. I never understood how you could be a part of me."
"I was ashamed of you, but there was nothing I could do to stop you from making fool out of us," TSIV answered. "So I just kept quiet and waited, hoping for a chance to come out and take over. I never expected an opportunity like this. Dr. Trate is right. The female hormones are taking over our body. It's changing the way we think. It's making me stronger and you weaker. In a few weeks, you'll be the meek quiet part of us."
"No way, you little faggot bastard," BBIV exploded. "I'll kill myself first!"
"Forget it, turkey," TSIV giggled. "You don't have the ability to do that anymore. I've grown strong enough now to stop you. Oh, one other thing, if you don't stop calling me a faggot, I'll make sure that I find a guy to make out with before you completely shrivel up and lose your voice. I think Jim Krick might like a good blow job from a cute girl like us."
"Jim Krick," BBIV exclaimed in horror as he recalled seeing the lead blocker for the football team in the shower. "But he's hung like a horse! You'd choke before you could do it!"
"But I'd have fun doing it," TSIV giggled.
"Damn, damn damn," BBIV blubbered as it struggled helplessly to attempt to pull the IV out of Heath's arm. "It's not fair! Let me do it. Let me kill us!"
"NO," TSIV replied calmly. "I won't let you kill us. I won't do Jim Krick either. I was just saying that to show you what I could do if I wanted to and to teach you a lesson that I am stronger than you are now. You're going to grow weaker and weaker while I grow stronger and stronger. We are no longer Heath. We are Heather. It's already a done deal. So you can either help out by cooperating or go through hell trying to stop something that can't be stopped."
"But it's not fair," BBIV cried. "I don't want to be a girl."
"I never wanted to be a girl either," TSIV answered soothingly. "But it has worked out that way. Now you can try to be the dumb jock you've always been and hit your head into a brick wall or you can shut up and let me take over. I'll be a heck of a lot better at adjusting to being Heather than you ever could do. Besides, if you keep fighting the inevitable, I might just look up Jim Krick. I wonder how it'd feel to have him take our cherry?"
"Aaaagghhh," BBIV screamed. "All right, damn it, I'll try to shut up and let you take over. But it won't be easy. Just stay away from Jim Krick!"
"I will," TSIV replied sweetly. "But I don't know about our girl part. She might like Jim."
"What girl part," BBIV exclaimed. "We don't have a girl part."
"That's where you're wrong, you dumb jock," a cute girlish inner voice (CGIV) teased. "Honestly, you macho guys are sooo pigheaded. Everybody has a tiny part of the opposite sex in them. That's especially true for boys. Do you remember biology when we study DNA and chromosomes? A girl's sex is determined by two chromosomes, XX, remember? A boy's sex is also determined by two chromosome, XY. The X is the same as a girl's. It's only the Y that makes the difference. So every boy has a little bit of girl hidden inside. I'm that part in us. It's just that up until now I was too small to even make my presence known. You saw to that you moronic jock! Now I'm growing. Soon I'll pass the macho part, then I'll pass the sissy part. I'll be the dominant part of us. I'll be Heather."
"This can't be happening," BBIV moaned. "There couldn't have been a part of us that was a girl."
"I wasn't aware she existed either," TSIV laughed. "But now I know she did. She couldn't talk but she kept tweaking me to get you to change."
"Yeah, and a lot of good it did me," CGIV pouted. "I couldn't talk so I just sat here in the back of our brain hoping someday to have a chance to take control. Soon, Mr. Macho will be the one who can't talk. Then I'll make up for lost time! So tell me, Mr. Sissy, just how well hung is Jim Krick?"
"NOOooo," screamed BBIV as he curled up into a mental fetal position.
"Well... I...," TSIV mumbled not really wanting to think about that possibility. "I was only joking when I said about getting it on with Jim."
"Well I'm not," CGIV replied with a mischievous giggle. "Now picture Jim in the locker room shower so I can see for myself."
"No... please," TSIV begged but it was too late.
The image swam to the surface of Heath/Heather's mind. Jim Krick stood 6 feet 8 inches tall and weighed in at 280 pounds of solid muscle. The senior spent most of his free time working out in the school's well equipped weight training room. BBIV cowered in terror. TSIV didn't want to look but was drawn to peek like a moth drawn to a flame. CGIV would have had Heath/Heather drooling if she was in complete charge of the body. The image of Jim sauntering naked towards the showers played back from the memory. A smirk of conceit filled his chiseled handsome face as he looked down his nose at the other less endowed guys. The other guys meekly scrambled out of his way. On his thickly matted hairy chest his pectoral muscles rippled as his hairy arms swung loosely at his side. His arms were thick with bulging biceps and triceps. His forearms were as big as the upper arms on most of the guys. His clenched hands looked like sledge hammers and could do just as much damage. Muscles rippled across his flat stomach. Twin muscular legs looked like hairy tree trunks. But the most impressive item about the young man was what hung between his massive thighs. The penis swung boldly with his every stride. The massive organ was at least 10 inches long and four inches in circumference... and it wasn't erect! Behind it in his hairy scrotum were what looked to be apricot sized testicles. The seventeen year old's body looked more like a gorilla than a boy, but his head revealed that he was an impressive handsome man.
"Oh yeah," CGIV whispered in awe as it drooled over the conjured image. "I gotta have some of that!"
"I don't think that's a good idea," TSIV pleaded as he shivered with mixed anxiety of fear and lust. "Jim knows Heath and he absolutely hates faggots. He'd never go for Heather."
"Any guy hung like Jim thinks with what's between his legs," CGIV whispered with anticipation. "All he wants is to slip what we've lost into a nice warm, wet place. We've got what he wants."
BBIV wanted to puke.
"I really don't think we're ready for that," TSIV meekly proclaimed. "Maybe someday, but not yet. It's the female hormones working on us that are making us feel this way. It's sort of like the sexual rush we used to get from testosterone. We'd better wait until our body settles down as Heather before we even think about having sex."
"I guess you're right," CGIV sighed. "But I think I'll be day dreaming about Jim Krick in the meantime."
"One other thing," TSIV added. "I think it'll be best if I run the show for a while. The tough guy can't handle being a girl and we're much too horny and inexperienced as a girl to give full control to our new girl persona. Let me be the transition persona. I'll try to blend the better portions of the old Heath into the new Heather. When everything's settled, I'll slip back into my hole and let the new girl persona take over."
"That sounds all right to me," CGIV giggled. "I'll be patient but I intend to advise!"
"Just do what you have to do," BBIV grumbled forlornly. "I'm dead anyway."
"You're not dead," TSIV implored. "You've just been shifted to the back. You were an important part of us. We won't ever forget our life as a boy."
"Yeah, right," BBIV complained. "Just do it and get it over with. I'm finished."
"Go crawl in a corner and sulk, big boy," CGIV chided. "You're like every bully. Once you face an opponent bigger than you run and hide. Being a girl is bigger than being a boy. Dr. Trate was right, the toughest thing a boy can do is to become a girl. Prove how much of a tough guy you are by helping us become a girl!"
"I'm helping the only way I can," BBIV mumbled. "I'm staying out of your way. Now please just let me find that corner and hide."
"Not on your life, sweetie," CGIV whispered compassionately. "In order for Heather to be a complete person we need you. If you're not here to tone me down, I'm likely to turn Heather into a slutty nymphomaniac. Heather needs you."
"She's right," TSIV agreed. "Heather can't be complete without you."
"Hmmf," snorted BBIV. "I'll see."
Heath woke up in a sweat. The clock by his bed said 8:00am. He'd slept through the night with a quite bizarre dream where his mind had split into three parts. But then, was this dream any more bizarre or real than his encounter with the leprechaun? Had either happened? Had both happened? He really didn't know. But he did know that the conclusion his three part inner argument had reached was valid. He had only one choice. That was to accept his girlhood and get on with his life.
At that moment Dr. Trate, Hillary, Joyce, Leslie, Helen, and Fred were seated in a conference room in another part of the building. "Now before we go in, it's critical that we all treat Heather as if she not only is a girl but as if she's always been a girl," Dr. Trate explained. "At no time can any of us call her Heath or refer to her with any masculine pronouns. Mr. Reilly, when Helen gives Heather the gift, you'll have to leave the room so she can put it on. We must treat her with girlish modesty and respect. That means you as a male must honor that girlishness."
"Of course," Fred agreed.
"We must do all we can to encourage girlish feelings in Heather," Dr. Trate continued. "This will require Leslie's cooperation and effort. We are all adults so let me blunt as I explain what needs to happen. Fred, this means you have to be extremely open minded. As a group we'll treat Heather as the girl she is. When it's time for you to leave to catch your plane, we'll all leave except for Leslie. Leslie, you know that your mother and Joyce are lovers. I prefer making love to a woman although having a man is an occasional nice change of pace. It will greatly hasten Heather's acceptance of her girlishness if you make out with her. It won't be necessary for you to do more than play with her breasts. You know how to do that from personal experience. Heathers breasts are so sensitive right now she'll be able to orgasm solely from the stimulation of her breasts. Bring her off as often as you can in as short a time as possible but do it kindly, with great tenderness and compassion. Reaching repeated orgasms will do more than anything else to convince Heather that she is indeed a girl. It will make her entire transition that much easier and quicker. Leslie, this is a big responsibility. Can you handle it?"
"Oh yes," Leslie exclaimed excitedly then blushed. "I was hoping to be able to make out with Heather when you left," she added sheepishly.
"Is that really necessary," Fred asked obviously shocked by the idea of encouraging a juvenile lesbian relationship.
"Fred," Dr. Trate explained. "Heath was totally infatuated by Leslie. He desperately wanted to get into her panties. That attraction and lust is still present and strong. Heather needs a trusted girlfriend to help her make the transition into complete girlhood. Can you think of anyone who is more girlish than Leslie? Could any other girl understand what being a boy was like? Can any other girl understand the surgery Heather has endured? No, only Leslie can do all those things. I know you're concerned that this could lead to Heather becoming a lesbian. She may after all, she was a very heterosexual young man. For her, making out with a guy could very well seem homosexual. Leslie liked Heath, she likes boys. She also likes girls. Heather will most likely be the same. Being bisexual isn't all that bad. But I can tell you this, if Heath continues to fight becoming Heather, he will suffer a total mental collapse. He must become Heather, and do so quickly. There is no better way than to have Leslie seduce her."
"Fred looked at the others and could see they were all firmly in agreement. Once more he was out voted. "All right," he finally sighed. "Just do me one favor and don't let me in on any more of these plots. I don't think my mental stability can handle it. All I ask is that you don't hurt Heath."
"We promise not to hurt HEATHER," Dr. Trate stated firmly as the others nodded their heads. "Heath no longer exists."
Fred sighed and sadly nodded his head.
A few moments later, everyone arrived in Heather’s room. Dr. Trate announced that the facial bandages could come off. First she removed the IV and then the restraints. Then she began to unwrap the bandages, explaining that Heather's face would be black and blue and slight scars would still be visible. The bruising would clear within a week and the scars would fade within a few days.
"Look past the scars and bruising," Dr. Trate explained as she pulled off the last bandage. "You'll be able to see Heather's pretty face." With that she stepped aside to allow everyone to see Heather.
"Oh my," Helen gasped as a smile filled her face. "Heather, you're beautiful!"
"Indeed," agreed Fred as he surveyed his daughters new visage. "You are one cute girl." His anxiety about what Leslie would do to Heather lessened when he saw there was little trace of his boyish son in Heather's girlish face.
"Oooh," giggled Leslie. "You and I are going to have to fight off the boys."
"Heather, you are simply gorgeous," Hillary proclaimed. "I'll be delighted to have you living in my home."
"Oh yes," sighed Joyce. "Dr. Trate, you did too good a job on her. I'll have my hands full keeping two adorable girls chaste."
"Here you go, Heather," Dr. Trate said as she held a large oval mirror before the anxious bed bound youth. "Now you can see for yourself that you are indeed a very pretty girl."
Heath peered into the mirror to see a bruised but utterly adorable girl peering tentatively back at him. Heather closely resembled Heath but there were significant differences. Heather had higher cheeks and even through the bruises and ever present sprinkling of freckles a hint of permanent blush gave her a rosy cherubic appearance. Heath's Adam's apple was totally gone leaving a smooth slender graceful neck. The macho cleft chin that had given Heath a macho appearance was now girlishly rounded. The slightly bent and crooked nose that revealed Heath's numerous encounters with hard objects was now a quintessentially girlish cute upturned button nose. Heath's slightly protruding Prince Charles type ears had been neatly pinned back and triple pierced. Girlishly long thick lashes enhanced her big green eyes. Just enough permanent eye liner had been used to highlight her eyes without looking obviously made up. A bit of electrolysis gave Heather permanently arched delicate girlish eyebrows. Permanent soft baby pink color was the crowning touch which gave Heather innocent girlishly pouty lips. All in all, Heather appeared to be a charming girl without the slightest hint of boyishness.
"Oh my," Heath gasped as he peered at his new reflection. "I guess I am a girl." Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at the loved ones surrounding him. "Look, this isn't easy for me. I always prided myself on being a tough guy. Now... looking like this, I really don't have any choice but to be the girl I've become. I'll try to learn to be a girl but it won't be easy. Please, be patient with me. Don't scold me if I do something wrong, even if you've already corrected me for the same thing. I've been a rough, I guess even crude, boy for 14 years. It won't be easy to change bad habits."
"Well, Heather, as long as we can tell your mistakes are innocent, you won't be scolded," Joyce assured the timid new girl. "Our goal is not to punish you but to help you adapt to being the pretty girl you've become. As long as we can see your sincere efforts in learning your new role in life, you'll be treated with love, kindness, and respect."
"This is for you, Heather," Helen said as she handed Heath a package wrapped in pink floral paper. "It's a going away present from your father and I."
Heath blushed as he took the gaily wrapped package. With everyone watching it he carefully opened the taped ends and removed the wrapping paper without tearing it.
"You really are a girl," Fred sighed as he watched. Heather's actions further reinforced Dr. Trate's earlier insistence that Heather was now a girl and needed to adjust quickly. "When you were a boy, you always tore the wrapping paper off. You opened this package like a girl."
Heath blushed even deeper and frowned. What his father said was true. This was the first time he'd ever opened a package so carefully. The care he'd used to open the gift was simply another sign of how rapidly he was changing.
"Oh stop being so modest," Leslie gushed. "We know you're a girl now. Open the present!"
Heath smiled tentatively at the friendly rebuke. With a sigh of accepting his girlish fate he lifted the lid from the box. He caught his breath when he saw what was inside. For a few moments he simply sat there looking inside the box with his mouth opened in a small O of surprise.
"Ooh it looks yummy," Leslie exclaimed. "Pick it up so we can all see it."
Heath looked at Leslie with a bit of disgust, wondering why she was being so bossy. Then he smiled as he realized she was simply excited about having a new girlfriend. Gently he reached inside the box and gingerly grasped the shoulders of what was obviously a lace trimmed pink satin nightgown. Slowly he lifted it from the box. It felt quite sleek and slippery, extremely thin yet substantial. It was undeniably feminine. A shiver engulfed him as he realized it was his first piece of girl clothes. Part of him was repulsed while another part was excited. It startled him to realize it was BBIV who was upset while CGIV was delighted. With that realization, BBIV fled, leaving CGIV in control. A wide grin of anticipation filled his face. Then he blushed and bit his lips and looked about to see understanding in the smiling faces surrounding him.
"Oh Heather, you simply MUST put it on right now," Leslie gushed. "It will feel so much nicer than that yucky hospital gown you're wearing."
Heath blushed and looked to see tears of joy trickling down his mother's face. He knew she was delighted with his reaction to the gift. "Is it all right to put it on," he tentatively asked Dr. Trate.
"My dear young lady," Dr. Trate beamed. "I insist you put it on. Leslie is entirely correct!"
"Ah... I think I'll step outside for a moment," Fred said as Leslie and Helen began to help Heather out of her hospital gown. The red-faced and confused man hurriedly left the room. Once outside he leaned up against the wall. He was confused by his open acceptance of the changes. There was no sense of loss, just a powerful sense that Heath becoming Heather was just so overwhelmingly right. Yet as he attempted to analyze his emotions, he found himself smiling as he thought how cute Heather would look wearing her new nightgown. The idea of Leslie seducing Heather now seemed right to him.
When Heather was nude, Helen gasped as she looked at her child's chest. Last Friday there had been two tiny swellings that merely hinted at the beginning of breasts. Now, one week later there were tiny twin mounds jutting proudly from that same but now all so girlish chest.
Heath noted the gasp and his mother's line of sight. Naturally he glanced down at his chest. He too gasped in surprise. The slight bumps of the previous week were now the well defined unmistakable mounds of budding girlish breasts. The areolas were the size of half dollars. The nipples were still about the size of pencil erasers but a deeper red in color than before.
If Heath had still been a male and saw such sassy breasts he knew he would have a raging erection. As it was, he felt a pleasant tingle emanating from each nipple which quickly grew into a warm flush that suffused his entire body. The saucy nipples erected even more in reaction to the new arousal, growing to a half inch long and a quarter inch in diameter, proudly erect and jutting arrogantly. Heath realized that he was feeling the beginnings of a very feminine sexual arousal. It felt very nice, much nicer than a boner. It also made him realize that he'd better forget thinking of himself as Heath, him, his, himself, and all those other male pronouns. With perky breasts upon his... HER chest, SHE knew she had indeed become Heather. A shiver of anxiety swept through her nude body. There was so much that had changed. But SHE found that so far most things had been rather nice, not the horrors HE had feared.
"I took the liberty of injecting some prolactin into your breasts during the surgery," Dr. Trate explained. "It rapidly increased your breast development and will do so for about another week. By then you should be developed enough to appear to be a fairly normal 14-year-old girl. Right now you're probably about a 'AA'. By next week when you're ready to begin attending St. Patrick Parochial School with Leslie you should be a perky 'A'."
Heath swallowed nervously as he tentatively reached up to cautiously cup his new breasts with his hands. The memories of how often he had wanted to fondle a nice set of girlish breasts made him feel quite guilty. When he actually touched his soft feminine flesh, the contact caused a tremendous upsurge of the arousal engulfing his body. A shiver of barely controlled passion swept through him. A low moan of pleasure erupted from Heather's parted pink lips. Her nipples simply begged to be pinched and kissed. In that moment of girlish passion the new girl forgot that she was not alone.
"Heather, there will be time to explore your new treasures later," Dr. Trate counseled with a smile.
Heath snapped back to reality. Quickly he pulled his hands from his breasts and turned beet red as he realized what he'd been doing. Being a girl was not going to be easy if simply touching his breasts caused such arousal. The girlish arousal made him realize that the female hormones were already quite far along in rewiring his brain. Maybe Dr. Trate had been right when she said the female hormones would help him adapt to being a girl. "I'm sorry," Heather whispered softly.
"Don't worry about it," Leslie giggled. "We'll have plenty of time to explore those feelings once we're sharing a bedroom."
Heath flushed with embarrassment while Heather blushed with anticipation. Heath/Heather remembered how the boy had desperately longed to make out with Leslie. Now here Leslie was telling him that she wanted to make out with her! It disturbed the boyish remnants of his self-esteem that his new growing girlish self-esteem wanted to join Leslie in bed as much as the boy part had! The Leprechaun's rhyme came back to him.
As a cute girl he'll be sad for quite a while;
but some day Heather, a pretty lass will smile.
His boyish lust, that ability now nil;
his last wish will be a delight to fulfill!
To get into Leslie Lynn's panties each day;
will be done in a most unusual way.
He hoped to enjoy Miss Balkut's girlish charms;
without setting off adult worry alarms.
All this can be done while putting him in place;
he will wear her panties of satin and lace!
"Most teenage girls explore their budding womanhood by sharing it with close girlfriends," Helen told Heather. "What you're feeling is normal for any yong teenage girl. But Leslie is right, this isn't the time or place, it should be done in private. Now, young lady, let's restore your modesty."
Heath wasn't about to argue with that as his mother raised the cute nightgown to slip it over his head. As the soft silken fabric touched his shoulders, Heath shivered with excitement. As his head disappeared inside the silken folds, he slipped his arms up into the sleeves. Once through the openings, the silken fabric was allowed to fall down his torso. As the wispy satin touched his erect nipples, little electric like shocks seemed to erupt and spark through his body. A very warm and pleasant glow began deep in the pit of his stomach. With a start he realized it was his new female sex organs reacting to the unrivaled arousal. Never before had he reacted to clothing in this manner. Again Heath realized that the feminine arousal was definitely pleasurable and not horrible as he had expected. Once more he realized that SHE was indeed now a girl. A tentative smile filled her pretty face.
With help from his mother and Leslie, Heather was soon properly ensconced in her lovely new pink satin nightgown. The short sleeves were full cut and trimmed with a half inch of delicate white lace. The V-neck had a three-inch wide satin collar of embroidered dainty colorful flowers was trimmed in matching lace. The V of the neck plunged to a point dead center between her saucy breasts. The empire waist caused the sheer satin bodice to cling to her budding breasts, teasingly revealing her still erect nipples. The nightgown reached to mid-thigh and the lace hem tickled Heather's soft white thighs. Heather was quite glad the bandages still covering her groin prevented the satin from causing further arousal. Near sensory overload, she had all the delightfully girlish feelings she could handle at the moment.
After a round of hugs and adjustments to her nightgown, Heather was soon settled back into her bed. Only then was Fred allowed back into the room. He smiled to see the pretty smiling girl sitting up in bed wearing the girlish nightgown. It disturbed him a bit to realize that his new daughter looked really cute and quite natural. He almost choked when he noticed her obvious cleavage. Upon closer perusal he noted the dark red color of her girlish areolas was visible through the sheer pink satin. It really startled Fred when he realized that Heather's breasts were obviously real since her pointed nipples stretched the satin fabric and her breasts jiggled slightly while they rose and fell in time with her breathing. Things were moving too rapidly for him. With a shudder he wondered how Heather was able to handle all the changes. He wondered how Heather would react when Leslie began her seduction. As he peered at Leslie, he understood why Heath had found her so attractive. That she had been born a boy like Heath seemed incomprehensible. Looking at Heather he found it equally incomprehensible that his daughter had ever been a boy. The idea of the two cute teenage girls getting it on gave him a most uncomfortable woody.
It soon became quite evident that Heather was becoming tired from the experiences of the morning. Since her parents had to catch an early flight, Dr. Trate suggested they let the young lady get some rest. Heather cried as everyone hugged her. Fred and Helen bid a tearful farewell as they left to make their flight to Africa. As planned, Leslie, who had taken the day off from school, was allowed to stay and keep Heather company.
"I guess this is all pretty hard for you," Leslie said as she sat on the edge of the bed once they were alone. "I know how weird it was for me after I had the surgery to become a real girl. It felt really strange not to have anything between my legs and like you my breasts had really grown. I wanted to be a girl so it really wasn't too traumatic for me. But I know you didn't want to be a girl so this is all really weird for you."
"It is hard to handle," Heath agreed. "I never wanted to be a girl. I was a boy and proud of it. The last thing in the world I'd have wanted was to become a girl."
"Well you're a girl now," Leslie cooed as she leaned over and softly kissed Heather upon her lips. "Now you just settle back and let me help you learn a little bit about being a girl." With that she settled beside Heather and cupped the new girl's breasts with her hands. With the experience of self-stimulation, Leslie began to tease and fondle Heather's sensitive budding breasts. She had no qualms whatsoever about seducing this cute girl.
"Oh Leslie," Heather gasped as waves of girlish arousal began sweeping through her body. A very warm feeling started in the pit of her stomach and she immediately knew it was her new female sex organs. "That feels sooo good... and sooo naughty! If this is what it feels like to be a girl I think I'm going to love it!"
"I KNOW you'll love being a girl," Leslie giggled. "I can hardly wait until we do this snuggled together in bed every night!"
Heather shuddered and squealed as she reached her first orgasm as a girl. "Oh God that was fantastic," Heather gasped once she caught her breath. "You didn't even have to touch me down there. It's practically impossible for a guy to come without being touched down there. Is it always so nice?"
"It has been for me," Leslie replied as she gently massaged Heather's breasts. "How does it compare to coming as a boy?"
"There's no comparison," Heather responded breathlessly as she snuggled closer. "I thought it was good coming as a boy, but this... it's just so yummy! As a boy everything is centered in the penis with just a wee bit in the balls. But this way... it's centered in my breasts and pus... er... privates, and spreads all over my body. It made me tingle all over! I love it!"
"So you're glad you've become a girl," Leslie impishly asked.
"Well, I don't know if I'm ready to admit that yet," Heather sobered as she blushed. "But it will sure make adapting to being a girl a lot easier."
"When you came as a boy, how often could you come," Leslie asked.
"That's a silly question," Heather giggled. "Like every other guy I'd come once and that would be it. I'd have to wait at least an hour before I could even try to do it again. If I was lucky, I could do it maybe four or five times a day. Is it different for girls?"
"Just a bit," Leslie cooed as she once more set to work to bring Heather off.
Heather was soon writhing and moaning. In less than three minutes she came again, less than five minutes after her first time. But Leslie didn't stop, and neither did Heather. She came again and again and again. Each time bigger and better than the last. Finally after her eighth orgasm in fifteen minutes she gasped and pulled Leslie's talented fingers from her tender breasts.
"God, no more," Heather gasped and panted for breath. "I can't take any more! That was phenomenal! Is it possible to come like that all the time?"
"You better believe it, GIRL," Leslie laughed as she once more kissed Heather full on the lips. This time there was a desperate passion in the heated kiss.
"Do you want me to do you," Heather asked as she looked up into Leslie's smiling face.
"Thanks for offering but I got so turned on doing you I came too," Leslie confessed. "I'll wait until you're stronger and come home for you to return the favor," Leslie replied as she tweaked Heather's nipples. "For now, you just enjoy learning to be a girl."
"I will," Heather replied as she snuggled down onto the bed. "You really wore me out. I think I'll take a nap." With that she pulled the covers around her neck and closed her eyes. "Leslie, thank you," Heather whispered sleepily.
"You're welcome, girlfriend," Leslie answered as she slipped off the bed and carefully tucked Heather in. "I think I'll go for a walk while you rest. Pleasant dreams, girl."
Heather smiled wearily as she drifted off to sleep. Curious thoughts swirled through her pleasure entranced mind. Girl... girl... girl...
"Well, there can no longer be any doubt in our mind that we are now a girl," CGIV giggled happily. "I love the way it feels to be a girl. The nightgown... the orgasms... our breasts... it's all so deliciously yummy and excitingly naughty!"
"The Leprechaun had been right," TSIV sighed. "Heath hated becoming a girl but Heather has quickly grown to love it."
"You better believe it," CGIV squealed with delight.
"Of course, that doesn't mean we are just going to abandon our boyish past," TSIV attempted to calm the new girlish portion. "Even though we’ve found being a girl has its good parts, it still will be difficult to break the old boy habits. To wear dresses will be a very trying experience although we now have no doubt that it will feel very nice. Being seen by others will be the hard part. Learning how to handle yourself in a skirt without consciously thinking about it will be challenging too."
"I can understand your concerns," CGIV replied in a more serious tone. "I'd probably have us jumping from bed to bed if you let me run free. Come on, Mr. Macho, I know you're still in here trying to bury your head in the sand, spit it out. Has becoming a girl been as bad as you feared?"
"Can't you just leave me alone," BBIV moaned. "Isn't it enough that I'm destroyed?"
"You big dope," CGIV scolded. "You'll only be destroyed if you give up and go crawl in a corner to shrivel up."
"She's right," TSIV joined in. "This is your last chance to save at least a part of what we were. Now quit being such a wimp and tell us what you think of being a girl."
"All right," BBIV replied sullenly. "I hate to admit it but the absolute horror I had first feared didn't happen. So far it hasn't been too bad. That's not to say I like it, but my major fears are gone. Now we know we are and for the rest of our life will be Heather."
"To hear that from you is great," CGIV sincerely stated "Right now I think we feel more like a devout tomboy who has come of age and is discovering the joys of girlhood. We really don't want to lose you, Mr. Macho, we need to incorporate your better parts in the new us."
"The terror is gone," TSIV added. “It's been supplanted by an anxious anticipation. I think Mr. Macho will be a silent partner as we grow into Heather."
"You're still the great mediator," BBIV grumbled. "But you're right."
"That's great," CGIV giggled with delight. "Now WE can become Heather!"
Leslie joined her mother, Joyce, and Dr. Trate in the conference room after she left Heather. The saucy girl was all smiles as she entered the room and took a seat.
"I'm really going to like having Heather for a sister," Leslie proclaimed. "She's so sweet. I had no problem at all seducing her. I accomplished everything you wanted. Of course, I had a great time too!"
"That's great," Dr. Trate smiled. "In all the sexually active males I've transformed into females I have yet to find one that didn't succumb to being seduced. Once they experience an orgasm as a female, there is no going back. Even though they hate losing their masculinity, they've all quickly slipped into accepting their femininity."
"So, my darling little minx," Hillary asked. "Are you still happy that I raised you as a girl?"
"You bet, Mom," Leslie exclaimed. "Being a girl is the only way to live. It's so much easier being raised as a girl than it is to change in midstream like Heather's doing. Dr. Trate, maybe you can isolate that fungal/virus that destroyed Heath's masculinity. We could give it to all the boys! The world would be so much better if there were only women."
"It also would be a lot more boring and short lived," Dr. Trate laughed. "We need males to continue the human race. While lesbian sex is very nice and satisfying, we also need males for heterosexual sex. You aren't going to be a strict lesbian are you."
"Well, for now I am," Leslie said softly as she blushed. "But when I do it with a guy, I'll be in control! Maybe you could do to my husband what you did to Candi."
"Perhaps," Dr. Trate laughed. "But I'd much prefer to have you do it yourself. You and Heather are both very bright young ladies. You also know from first hand experience how much nicer life is as a girl. Or at least Heather will learn that before too long. I'd like to sponsor both of you through a pre-med college curriculum, and on through medical school. Two intelligent and knowledgeable girls such as you will make very capable additions to my practice. It will take at least 14 more years of schooling, but I look forward to having you both as partners in my practice. Just think of the fun you'll have changing nasty boys into simpering sweet girls!"
"Oh, that does sound like fun," Leslie enthused. "It makes my panties wet just thinking about it!"
"It looks like I'll have my work cut out for me." Joyce laughed. "I'll have to see to it that you two little imps grow up to be proper young ladies and keep up with your studies."
"I'm sure you'll do it," Hillary added with a twinkle in her eye. "You do everything so well."
"You're quite skilled yourself," Joyce retorted with a mischievous giggle.
"Honestly," Leslie exclaimed while shaking her head. "You two sound like Heather and I"
"We are," Hillary chuckled. “After all, we were only two years older than you are now when we became lovers."
"Dr. Trate, do you really enjoy changing boys into girls," Leslie asked.
"Yes, I do," Dr. Trate affirmed. "The more a boy doesn't want to become a girl, the better I like it."
"Have you transformed a lot of boys into girls who didn't want to be girls," Hillary asked.
"Almost all of them," Dr. Trate replied. “You were one of five who wanted to become a girl."
"Oh wow," Leslie exclaimed. "Did they all have some sort of fungal/virus like Heather?"
"No, most were perfectly normal boys when they first came to see me," Dr. Trate confessed. "For one reason or another, they were brought to me because they had behavior problems. It was hoped my hypnotherapy could correct their behavior. I could have done so, but after talking to the mother, or in some cases an aunt or grandmother, I determined the adult had no idea how to raise a boy and longed to raise a girl. The solution was quite obvious. I corrected the boy's behavior by turning him into a sweet girl."
"How do you do it," Leslie asked.
"Well, generally I start with a blood test to see if there are any abnormalities that may account for the bad behavior," Dr. Trate explained. "Then I use those results to begin a hormonal drug therapy that destroys the male sex and institutes a female puberty. Eventually they become so feminine they can no longer appear as boys. At that point I announce the irreversibility of the condition that caused the derailing of the masculine puberty and the start of the female puberty. I usually add that as the male sex organs atrophy, they'll die and become gangrenous. The only way to save the boy's life is to remove the male organs completely, and while I'm at it, to redesign his body to match his feminine puberty. Then I suggest they enroll at St. Patrick Parochial School. Mother Superior Erin Murphy and the nuns on the staff are quite cooperative about accepting the special new girls as students. They make sure all the girls behave like proper young ladies."
"I'll say they do," Leslie sighed which made the adults chuckle a bit.
"What you described sounds almost like what happened to Heath," Leslie exclaimed after a moment. "But what do you do if the blood test comes back okay?"
"I send all my blood samples to a lab that I own," Dr. Trate chuckled. "The test results always come back showing some sort of imbalance."
"Oh wow," Leslie exclaimed, then her eyebrows creased. "Did Heather really have a fungal/virus infection?"
"It really doesn't matter anymore, does it," Dr. Trate replied with a smug smile of satisfaction that left Leslie know the truth.
"No, I guess it doesn't," Leslie replied. "So you really do it to boys just because you want to do it."
"Yes," Dr. Trate answered. "My efforts at eradicating juvenile delinquents has come to the attention of several ardent feminist female lawyers, police officers, prosecutors, and judges who handle the legal paperwork needed to change my patients from boys into girls. They like the idea too. They're trying to set up a program with the juvenile courts where troublesome boys would be sent to me for therapy rather than going into conventional juvenile detention. Of course these boys would have to be physically capable of becoming attractive girls and have family's who would be amendable to my treatments, of course it usually requires a little hypnotherapy, for the parents as well as the subject to enable the changing of the bad boys into good girls. If it takes off, I'll be quite busy. I'll need partners like you and Heather to help with the practice."
"This is really mind boggling," Leslie stated. "But it sounds like fun! It just seems such a long time to wait. Hey, I have an idea. Maybe Heather and I won't have to wait."
Everyone was all ears as they waited for Leslie to continue.
"Well, I know the nuns at St. Patrick Parochial School get fed up with the antics of some of the boys," Leslie went on with mounting excitement. "From what I've gathered since I've been there, each year several boys are enrolled because of behavior problems and their parents or guardians hope the stricter school can help straighten out the boys. I'm pretty sure that since Mother Superior Erin Murphy and the nuns know about and accept what you do, perhaps they could recommend that the troublesome boys see you for hypnotherapy to help them behave. They already have the boy's records and know the family situation. They could screen the boys before they send them to you!"
"That does sound quite interesting," Dr. Trate mused. "I'll definitely look into the matter. Since she's obviously Irish, I'm sure Mother Superior Erin Murphy will find Heather's tale about the Leprechaun quite amusing. I'll use it to break the ice when I talk to her. Thank you for the wonderful idea, Leslie."
"It's my pleasure," Leslie exclaimed. "I'll even help pick out the boys!"
"If you're really interested in helping," Dr. Trate began with a mischievous grin. "I have a way you and Heather can help now."
"Oh yes, I'd love it," Leslie giggled. "I'm pretty sure Heather will go along with it too once she completely accepts her girlhood."
"Excellent," Dr. Trate continued. "As I mentioned earlier there are several feminist lawyers, police officers, prosecutors and judges who are aware of my unusual practice. A few have approached me about the possibility of transforming some boys and men into girls without their cooperation or the complete cooperation of their parents or guardians if they're underage. So far I have refused because it's simply too hazardous. One lawsuit or claim could destroy my entire practice. But with you and Heather as ringers and the cooperation of the feminist lawyers, I'm sure we could coerce even the most resistant male or, if he's underage, his parent or guardian to agree to my treatment."
"That sounds exciting," Leslie enthused.
"Good," Dr. Trate continued with a broad anticipatory grin. "It would require that you and Heather, two quite virginal and innocent young teenage girls, date those males. We can figure out how they'll meet you on an individual basis. Now we all know what males want when they take a girl out, especially if she is a pretty, feminine, and innocent girl. Knowing this but playing as if you don't, you date them. Because of your supposed juvenile naivete they manage to seduce you. This would mean that you allow them to have their way with you without too much protest and no threats to fix them. You'd have to behave as if you loved doing it, even agreeing to see them again if they ask. As soon as you get home, we rush you to the hospital where you plead date rape. Right now that would be statutory rape, an even more serious crime. We'd make sure the case goes to a sympathetic police officer and a tough feminist prosecutor. They agree to hold off pressing charges if the culprit and, if he's underage, his parents or guardians come to me for hypnotherapy sessions. From there the case would be mine."
"That sounds like a lot of fun," Leslie said. "Only I'm not sure about getting seduced."
"I can help you handle that," Dr. Trate replied.
"I'm sure you can," Hillary chuckled. "You do know. Leslie, dear, what Dr. Trate's full name is don't you," Hillary asked with a huge smile across her face as Joyce and Dr. Trate snickered.
"Sure," Leslie replied in obvious confusion about what was so hilarious. "Her name is Dr. Cassandra Trate."
"Yes," snickered Hillary. "What's the nickname for Cassandra?"
"Cass," Leslie replied still not getting what was so funny.
"So what's her name," Hillary persisted as all three women barely controlled breaking into peels of laughter.
Leslie furrowed her brows and thought. "Why I guess it'd be Cass Trate."
The three ladies could no longer control their laughter. Huge guffaws resounded in the room.
Leslie looked perplexed for a moment, then gasped and held her hand over her mouth. "Now I get it," the girl giggled naughtily. "Cass Trate... castrate... what you like doing to boys!"
Everyone laughed. After a few moments Leslie gasped again and held her hand over her mouth. "If I become a doctor and do join your practice, I'll be Dr. Balkut... get it... ball cut?"
The hilarity resumed until tears trickled from every eye.
That afternoon, Leslie was with Heather when Dr. Trate entered the room to remove the bandages from her groin. Needless to say, Heather was quite apprehensive.
"Can't you knock me out first," Heather asked with a trembling voice.
"This won't hurt, Heather," Dr. Trate reassured her. "Just ask Leslie."
"It won't hurt," Leslie affirmed. "It feels strange, but not bad at all. It just takes a bit of getting used to, that's all."
"I still want to be knocked out," Heather whimpered as tears began to trickle down her cheeks and she began to tremble.
"Heather, you're going to have to see your new plumbing sooner or later," Dr. Trate stated. "Wouldn't you rather do it when I was here to explain everything and Leslie was at your side?"
"Yes," Heather whimpered. "I'm just real scared."
"I understand, Heather," Dr. Trate soothed. "Remember, I told you it was going to be tough being a girl, and this is the toughest part. Once you're though this, the rest goes easier. Now just try to relax. Hold onto Leslie's hand."
Heather grasped Leslie's hand and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Dr. Trate carefully began removing the bandages as Heather trembled. Once all the wrappings and dressings were removed, Dr. Trate paused.
"It's almost over, Heather," Dr. Trate stated. "The only thing I have to do is to remove the catheter. This will tickle and might take your breath but it won't hurt. Here goes."
Heather bit her lip as she felt a weird sensation in her groin, then it did begin to tickle. Despite her anxiety, she began to giggle and squirm. Suddenly the tickling took on new dimensions. It began to feel quite good... very good. Heather's breasts began to tingle and the diffusion of arousal began throughout her body, much as it had happened earlier when Leslie had been playing with her breasts. The major difference was the rapidity and intensity were much greater. Heather began to orgasm, arching her back and thrusting her hips upwards as a low moan of pure lust escaped her lips. Then she caught her breath and convulsed as she experienced an enormous orgasm centered in her groin but encompassing her entire body. The entire thing lasted only ninety seconds but it felt fantastic. Heather collapsed and panted.
"I warned you it'd take your breath away," Dr. Trate laughed as she patted Heather's tummy.
"I know just how yummy that was," Leslie sighed. "I loved it when it happened to me."
It took Heather five minutes to recover. During that time she thought about how different it was to be a girl. Never had an orgasm been nearly as intense when she was a boy.
"Now that you're feeling better, young lady, it's time to look at your new plumbing," Dr. Trate stated. "I'll take you on a guided tour."
With Leslie holding her hand for reassurance, Heather bit her lip and glanced between her legs. The long familiar sight of a cock and balls was startlingly absent. A tear of longing for what was no more trickled down her cheeks. Once more, and quite effectively, the point was driven home that Heather was indeed all girl. Heather screwed her eyes shut, gasped, and then caught her breath as she struggled to come to grips with her irreversible change.
After swallowing a bit of rising bile, Heather took a deep breath to calm what little remained of her shattered boyish nerves. Once she had her emotions back under control she once more peered between her thighs. The area was still a bit swollen and red, but it looked exactly like what Heath had drooled over when wacking off while looking at centerfolds in his porno magazines. Heather watched and listened with rapt attention as Dr. Trate pointed out her new clitoris, vagina, labia major, and labia minor. Not only was Heath seeing what he had fruitlessly lusted after for so long, but Heather was feeling quite pleasant sensations emanating from each part of her feminine anatomy. It was all quite disconcerting but very interesting.
Dr. Trate then removed the vaginal form and did an internal exam while Heather blushed when Dr. Trate said; "Everything looks quite good. You should have no problems accommodating a male."
Heather learned how to lubricate the vaginal form, which looked a bit too much like a penis to make her comfortable, with bacitracin to promote healing and prevent infection. She was a bit stunned and listened mutely upon learning she had to do this several times a day for the next month. Finally the ordeal ended when Dr. Trate handed Heather the matching panties to her new nightgown.
Heather trembled and blushed as she accepted the pink satin full cut panties. For a moment she held them out to look at them. They were quite pretty. The lace trim about the waist and legs matched the lace trim of her yummy nightie. Heather bit her lip as she recalled the number of times she had, as a rascally boy, tried to catch a glimpse of a girl's panties. Now she held her own. She recalled how often she'd longed, again as a rascally boy, to get into some girl's panties, especially Leslie's panties. She also remembered the Leprechauns damning rhyme:
His boyish lust, that ability now nil;
his last wish will be a delight to fulfill!
To get into Leslie Lynn's panties each day;
will be done in a most unusual way.
He hoped to enjoy Miss Balkut's girlish charms;
without setting off adult worry alarms.
All this can be done while putting him in place;
he will wear her panties of satin and lace!
A tear of anguish for all Heath had lost as well as the guilt Heather now felt for those naughty boyish wants trickled down Heather's cheek.
Leslie understood. "Put them on, Heather," Leslie soothed. "Grasp them at the sides and hold them up by the waist. The shorter section is the front."
Heather did as instructed and determined the front of the panties. With a bit of trepidation, she slipped the dainty garment, the ultimate symbol of girlishness, over her feet and slowly slid them up her legs. The tickling sensations of the satin and lace kissing her flesh were heavenly and quite enticing. Sliding them into place about her hips and snugging them into her flat groin felt totally awesome and a bit naughty. They fit like a glove and felt wonderful. An embarrassed smile filled her red face.
"I really am a girl," Heather whispered aloud in awe.
“Yes, you are," Dr. Trate smiled. "You are a very pretty girl."
"You're my cute sister," Leslie smiled and nodded.
Dr. Trate left to make her rounds. Leslie and Heather sat and talked about being a girl. Of course, Leslie did most of the talking while Heather tried to fit all she was learning into her new outlook on life.
When supper arrived, two meals were delivered. One for Heather and one for Leslie. The girls ate slowly and finished every morsel. When they were done, the trays were removed. A short time later Heather bit her lip and began to squirm.
"I know that squirm," Leslie giggled. "You've got to relieve your bladder. Come on, I'll guide you through it. It's not hard doing it as a girl but it is a lot different."
Heather meekly followed Leslie into the toilet. She knew girls had to sit to pee, but how they did it was a total mystery.
Comments
What If?
Heather becomes a dominant female instead of a demure girl? Would they let her be or try to change her again?
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Fred- Heather's Father
Will it happen to him also, I'll look forward to it!
Great story - lots of potential - keep it coming (ahem!)
Thank you.
Rita
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)
LoL
Rita
I f Dr. Trate's only criteria for ...
... changing a boy into a girl is her own pleasure derived from doing it, and that rests only on the boy having the potential to be a convincing, pretty girl, then the boys behavior really doesn't matter to her. This makes her amoral and VERY dangerous.
Also, the author seems to have taken all the conflict out of the story by having Heath pretty much give up. I would have liked to see how a Heath who fought every step of the way and where suicide WAS an option, was dealt with.
"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show
BE a lady!
Well...
I've read this story before when it was on fictionmania, it's a wonderful horror story about women who truly have black hearts. And who are truly delusional, to actually say women never get in fights or are rough? How about I drag her to Angelines woman's shelter, the women there all push, shove, stab, fight, scuffle, and rough and tumble there all over the place mew xD Sounds like Dr. Trate is delusional xD
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
I agree
Yes Dr Trate is extremely dangerous, and I do see great danger for poor Fred.
I have not been exposed to shelters, though I came very close to it. A couple good women decided that I would be killed on the streets or in a shelter and they took extraordinary steps to keep me in a safe place.
I am confused that the Author gave such an accurate surgical description of everything but then had Heather experiencing Climaxes only days after surgery. It took me six months but I am willing to be proved wrong by those who have had other experiences. I was unaware that the seminal duct was re-routed to the back of the pseudo Vagina. Can this be done? I have a light discharge most of the time, to the point that I frequently wear a light pad.
It is however, the author's work and I do not want to overly criticize it. I support her right to full poetic license.
Gwendolyn