What I did on my Summer Vacation
The first week was hectic but fun as we visited the Grand Canyon, Carlsbad Caverns, and many other sites in New Mexico and Arizona. The second week was to be spent in Mexico before moving on to California. Our trip was disrupted quite suddenly when mom screamed. Looking up from the back seat I saw a bus loaded with people careening wildly down the winding mountain road we were headed up. The bus was swerving into their path. The last thing I remember was the horrendous squeal of tires followed by the shriek of shredding steel.
Later I found out that miraculously, no one was killed, although there were dozens injured. It seems our SUV prevented the bus from plunging over the side. But the cost was that my entire family was injured and unconscious. The ambulances and trucks that responded to the accident took the most severely injured to the nearest hospital, and in this way my family was separated.
Since I wasn't as seriously injured as the others, I wound up in a different hospital from the rest of the family. Actually, it was a private clinic that opened it's doors to assist in the emergency. When I regained consciousness, I had a tremendous headache and some bruising, but was otherwise okay. Naturally I wanted to know the fate of my family. Due to the language barrier it was with great difficulty that I finally discovered what had occurred. The next day the clinic staff made arrangements for me to talk to my brother over a poor telephone hookup.
Mom and dad were both resting quietly with severe concussions and several fractured ribs. Our parents were unable to move. Bobby had broken his left arm above the elbow and his left leg had been severely fractured. It would be at least a week before our family could be reunited. I would have to remain alone in this hospital.
Although I was scared to be alone, I would never admit it. I put on a tough appearance and tried to be as witty and sarcastic as I could with the language barrier. This is what led to my predicament. Being a normal randy boy, I flirted and tried to impress a pretty nurse. She enjoyed my attention, but misunderstood my clumsy efforts to seduce her.
Being horny and watching the pretty girl, I grew frustrated since neither spoke the other's language. Finally I tried sign language. I pointed at her, smiled; then pointed at myself and smiled; then taking the two fingers I'd pointed with, I put them together. She watched and smiled, came and sat on my bed, and touched my face. I couldn’t understand what she said, but knew her tone was sympathetic. Encouraged, I daringly placed my one hand on her groin and squeezed gently, then with my other hand I placed her hand on my groin while I again squeezed her groin. She looked shocked, babbled something quickly, removed her hand and pointed at my groin and then hers with a questioning look on her face. I smiled, nodded yes, and hoped she'd respond to my request. She smiled forlornly, got up, kissed me on the forehead, said something in a soothing voice, and left. I sat there totally bewildered.
About an hour later a middle-aged man entered my room. He wore a lab coat and picked up my chart. After a few minutes of review, he looked puzzled. Naturally I grew concerned. The doctor took my pulse, listened to my lungs and heart, then lifted the sheets and began to examine my groin. This really frightened me and I became quite belligerent.
"Just what do you think you're doing!" I demanded. “Are you some sort of pervert?"
The doctor looked at me with an expression of concern, "You I must examine. I am Doctor Mendez, head of this clinic." the man said in halting, imprecise English. "Senorita Diaz, your nurse, told me of your request. It is unusual of a boy your age, but I specialize in that area. Even boys younger than you I have helped in this matter. You I may be able to help too."
I was confused. This man knew I wanted sex with nurse Diaz, and he specialized in that area? Was he a pimp? I wasn't sure of Mexican customs, but I had heard many strange tales. Besides, he said he’d helped boys younger than me get laid. This would be my chance to get one up on Bobby! I looked at the doctor and asked, "How much will it cost? I don't have any money with me, but I really would like to get into her panties.”
Dr. Mendez smiled, "Don't worry about the cost, your insurance will pay all the expenses. I have checked already and they will pay for any treatments I recommend. Your parents approval I must have before we start. I will call them and ask." He rose and left the room before I could try to stop him. My stunned mind whirled. Call my parents? Would I ever get it... and it wouldn’t be sex!
Two hours later, a smiling Dr. Mendez returned. "I talked to your father. He is quite groggy, but when I asked him if he would sign for your treatments, he agreed. The hospital is sending his signed permission to me. As soon as I receive it, we shall begin. In the meantime, nurse Diaz will start preliminary preparations.
Nurse Diaz entered with a cart loaded with bottles and towels. I was startled as she gently undressed me and began to shave my entire body. I started to protest, but the language barrier rose again. Besides, her gentle touch felt great! I assumed what she was doing was prepping me for some kinky sexual variation and decided to cooperate. After shaving me, she washed me, then rubbed a sweet smelling lotion over every part of my body. I thrilled to her sensual touch, and almost passed out as she carefully massaged my groin. I moaned in pleasure and anticipation. I was so relaxed I was putty in her hands so I didn’t resist as she rolled me on my side. I felt her swab my butt with cooling alcohol and before I realized what she was doing, she gave me an injection. Almost instantly I felt the drug coursing through my veins, spreading it's warmth to every part of my body. Quite quickly I grew warm, comfortable, and sleepy. Nurse Diaz was gently stoking my cheek as I smiled happily and slid into a dreamless sleep.
Slowly I awoke to the feeling of another needle being withdrawn from my buttocks. Nurse Diaz was gently urging me to slide onto a Gurney. This is it, I thought groggily and did my best to move. I grew angry at my clumsiness and then started to giggle giddily. I was quite happy as she wheeled me down the halls and into an operating theater crowded with equipment, nurses, and Dr. Mendez. My thoughts swirled. Were they all going to watch us have sex? Or was it going to be an orgy? But then why was everyone being so business like? Why were they gowned and masked? What was going on? I felt an IV needle being slid into my arm. I looked up to see Dr. Mendez open the drip on the IV
"Don't worry, many times I've done this surgery, although on one as young as you the results will be much better. On you it will go easier since you won't have to overcome any male development. When you awake, a lovely young lady you will be. Have a nice nap, my pretty princess," he said as he pushed the plunger on a needle feeding into the IV.
I was totally confused and bewildered. Had he said I’d wake up a lovely young lady? What was going on? I tried to ask what was going on and explain I didn’t want to become a girl! Unfortunately all I could do was mumble as everything go black.
In what seemed like a few seconds I began to wake up. As I tried to remember where I was and why I felt so wasted I tried to open my eyes but couldn't keep them open or even focus on anything during the short the short time I succeeded. When I tried lifting my head it would only roll about. Never had I had such a headache. My throat was dry and my chest and groin ached. I passed out and woke up at least a dozen times that I remembered before I was finally able to focus on the concerned face of nurse Diaz.
"Water... " I mumbled through my parched lips.
I received a sip and was rewarded with a gentle swabbing of my face and arms with a damp cloth. It felt nice but the pain and aching in my chest and groin throbbed on. Then I recalled Dr. Mendez's words. Terrified, I tried to check my manhood but felt only bandages. My mind felt as if it would explode and I began to cry and gurgle as panic seized me. I tried to tear off the bandages. Nurse Diaz slipped a needle into my arm, and despite my anxiety I fell back into unconsciousness.
When I awakened again, I was strapped down. Dr. Mendez was gently shaking me. "Wake up, my pretty young girl. It is time you begin to move about,” he smi1ed down into my frightened face.
"Wh... wh... what d... do y... you mean... ?" I managed to mumble, afraid of the reply I dreaded.
Dr. Mendez smiled. "I mean your wish to become a girl has come true. I am the best sex change specialist in Mexico. It will take a very thorough exam by a doctor to discover that you were not born a girl. In one as undeveloped as you, it is easy to remove all signs of masculinity and to create the essence of femininity in all respects."
I turned white and said nothing as I was helped from the bed. Nurse Diaz took my arm and walked me slowly up and down the corridors. The pain in my groin had subsided to an ache. I felt a heaviness upon my chest and the strange sensations created more discomfort in my anguished mind with each step. Finally I built up the courage to look down and was punished by seeing two small mounds protruding from my chest. The loose gown hid them from direct view, but I knew they were my new breasts. They had turned me into a girl! What would I do? How could I ever face my family and friends? My thoughts became jumbled and I started to whimper as my knees began to give out. Nurse Diaz quickly returned me to my bed as I broke into heartrending sobs.
The next few days were a horrible blur for me as I realized I was now a former boy. I was kept sedated since I burst into tears whenever I thought of my situation. I had no idea what to do. My body healed itself well, and I was recovering nicely when my family showed up.
I’m still not sure exactly what happened but apparently there was quite a scene, with the local police finally arriving to keep the peace. When the tempers settled, the adults were able to discuss the situation and reconstruct what had occurred. They all realized that everyone had misunderstood what the other party was trying to say. Under Mexican law, there was no one at fault and thus no legal recourse.
Mom, dad, and Bobby were besides my bed when I awoke. At first, I thought I was dreaming, then I realized my family was actually there. Desperately I tried to blurt out all that had happened. I explained that I really had not wanted to be a girl, but my speech quickly deteriorated into jumble of confusing sobs.
Mom hugged me as I trembled uncontrollably but was stunned to feel small, firm breasts touching her firm breasts. Once I settled down they all assured me they were aware of what happened. I had hoped my parents could fix things but I quickly learned the surgery could not be reversed. They stated we were still a family and would help each other adapt to this unexpected and unwelcomed change.
It was soon decided that dad would return home with Bobby. They felt mom's mother could keep an eye on Bob while he was in his casts recuperating. Dad would also start looking for a new home, since they'd decided it would be easier to start over in a new area with their new daughter than to explain why one son had become a daughter. They felt this would prevent anyone from teasing me as I made the difficult transition from boyhood into girlhood.
After much discussion, I reluctantly decided Jamie was to be my new name since it was close to my former name, James. Everyone began referring to me as her. I had to stay in the clinic for three weeks to insure proper healing, and mom used that time to slowly begin my transition to femininity.
Once the bandages were removed, I discovered my body had really changed and none of my salvaged male clothes fit. Mom bought new lingerie for me, her new little girl. I protested feebly about the indignity of wearing panties and bra, but quickly discovered how well they fit. Eventually I even conceded I enjoyed how nice and soft the undies felt as they gently supported my sensitive new breasts and groin.
When mom was out, I would secretly examine myself, totally bewildered by the strange but extremely pleasurable sensations I experienced as I explored my new body. As a boy, I had masturbated either alone or with her Bobby. We’d even jerked each other off a few times. We had spent many hours looking at Playboy magazines we had smuggled into our bedroom, telling each other what we’d do if we ever had a chance to be alone with the models. We also discussed which of our female classmates we'd like to enjoy. Now, suddenly, I was on the other side of the fence. I knew what boys thought of girls, and what they'd do if they had a chance. I shuddered at the thought of a boy pawing at my feminine features but at the same time couldn't resist fondling them myself. It simply felt too good to stop! I quickly discovered that a girl could masturbate and quickly began to bring myself off at every opportunity. Of course I was frightened of being caught and my mind screamed at me to stop. After each orgasm I’d break into tears and vow not to do it again, but in a few hours, I was back at it. It was tearing me apart emotionally.
Mom knew I was having serious problems adapting to my new gender. She spent much time talking to me, trying to reassure me that girls were just as sexual as boys, but had to be a lot more careful about their actions because of the risk of pregnancy. I didn't tell her that was ridiculous in my case as I could never get pregnant. She also explained to me that female hormones effected the way I thought and felt. That explained why it was much easier for me to become emotionally involved in a book or movie. I also noticed my feelings about various matters were subtlety changing. The discussions with mother made me realize my life as a girl was going to be very different from my life as a boy.
Towards the end of my recovery, I stood naked before the mirror. My breasts, which the doctor had jumped started with well placed collagen injections, were well formed and pert. My waist had slimmed considerably while my buttocks were filling out giving me nice curves. My previously muscular arms and legs had lost their angularity and firmness. They were now sleek, slim, soft and well proportioned. The biggest change was my groin, under the curly red thatch was a vagina most boys would love to get to. This made me shiver with fear and revulsion. The overall feminine appearance I presented was reinforced by my head,,, the head I'd always thought was all boy. My lightly freckled face now reflected my girlish innocence, my sparkling green eyes were set off by slightly curled bangs. The rest of my soft straight red hair was parted down the center and pulled into twin ponytails tied ribbons. I sighed as I was forced to admit I was now an undeniably pretty girl!
Even though I was intellectually able to see these changes and knew I had no choice but to accept my girlhood, my subconscious was still very much masculine. Even though my thoughts were rapidly becoming feminine, my gut reactions were still very male. I had nightmares of males being forcibly transformed into girls, usually with me as the victim.
My confusion led me to reject any clothing that was too feminine. The lingerie I wore, while made of lace trimmed nylon, was hidden from anyone's view. I absolutely refused to wear the pretty pale blue nightie my mother had gotten for me to wear in place of the hospital gown. Mom finally gave in and compromised with me on a set of nylon pajamas in light blue that had a touch of matching lace at each cuff and the neck. Once more I was amazed at how light, airy and comfortable girls’ clothing was compared to boys’ clothes.
As the time of my discharge approached, there was quite a bit of discussion about what I should wear for the flight home. Mom wanted me to wear a dress or at least a skirt, while I absolutely refused to even consider such clothes. Once more, mom capitulated but called me her spunky daughter. Of course she did demand some concessions from me. The outfit I wore consisted of a matching pink nylon bra and panty set, edged with lace and accented with embroidered roses. Pink rib knit anklets were visible below the pair of stone washed blue denim girl's jeans held in place by a pink rope belt. Tucked into the jeans was a pink knit short sleeved shirt with ribbed cuffs and collar and a button pocket. My hair was brushed into bangs over my forehead, the balance parted down the top center and gathered into matching braids on either side which were tied off with pieces of narrower pink rope to match my belt.
Looking at myself in the mirror my overall image was that of a pretty young girl, her budding breasts teasingly outlined by her pink shirt. A girl reluctantly but relentlessly leaving her childhood behind, no longer able to maintain her tomboyishness. Mom was satisfied with my femininity, while I shuddered slightly to see I appeared unmistakably to be a girl. When the time finally arrived for us to leave, I was petrified. I hadn't been off the hospital grounds yet. Mom put her arm comfortingly about my trembling shoulders and assured me she was proud of her pretty daughter. During the taxi ride to the airport, I began to relax as my mother assured me the driver had never suspected that I was anything other than the pretty young girl I appeared to be. The wait at the terminal, the boarding of the plane, and the flight home were quite frightening and unnerving for me. Several boys, and a few men, openly admired my perky girly appearance.
The three week separation of our family ended in a warm reunion in the airport terminal upon the safe arrival of the plane. Bobby was on crutches and getting around quite well. Dad gave mom a warm hug while Bobby and I stared sullenly at each other until I quickly dropped my eyes.
Latter Bobby told me this had irritated him since we had always tried to out macho the other by attempting to stare down the other. By giving up almost immediately, my submission did more than anything else to drive home to him that his twin brother James was truly gone.
We both realized at our reunion that the lifelong rivalry and companionship we had shared was over. Looking his new sister over, Bobby smiled uneasily at me. “You’re really pretty,” he mumbled as he fidgeted uneasily.
I’d kept my eyes lowered and noted Bobby started getting a boner. My eyes grew wide and my mouth dropped opened as I looked up into his lusting eyes. Almost instantly Bobby turned white and his erection immediately vanished. He swallowed uncertainly as looked me over and took in all the feminine details of his cute new sister. Shivering slightly, he guiltily looked away. I could tell his thoughts were riotous. We had always thought of themselves as real men, strong, bold, and unafraid. My ability to read his thought hadn’t vanished with my change. Now he was assailed by doubt, was he really a man? Since were identical twins, if I had been converted in four short weeks into such a pretty girl the same thing had to be true about him! I knew he wondered how he could think of himself as a male when he saw how feminine his identical twin had become? Bobby quickly withdrew into an introspective shell, attempting to stabilize his masculinity by ignoring my obvious femininity.
Meanwhile dad released mom and turned towards me, his bashful daughter. Placing his strong hands upon my shoulders, he looked at me. Anxiously I raised my lowered eyes sheepishly to glance into my father's warm face. I smiled hesitantly when I saw his caring smile. Dad slipped his arms about me as he gently pulled me to him into an affectionate fatherly embrace. I felt myself blush as my body snuggled itself into the firm body of my father. It did this without my really being aware it had happened until it was accomplished. My stubborn male ego protested loudly in my mind but the security I derived from that warm, loving embrace made me snuggle closer. Tears of frustration and confusion slowly trickled down my rosy cheeks. I quietly acknowledged that I must indeed be a real girl to react like this to a hug. My male ego was slowly losing ground to the relentless onslaught of the female hormones, the soft pretty clothes, and my new life as a girl. Just as Bobby had realized things were to be different during this reunion, I realized I had become a girl and decided to start trying to behave like a girl should.
The ride home was a time of contemplation for the entire family. Dad was satisfied with my apparent acceptance of my girlhood. Mom was delighted to have the pretty daughter she'd always wanted, and was trying to decide how to make up the time she'd lost by not having one. Bobby was angry. He sat looking out the window fuming because I proved how fragile his masculinity was. He fina1ly determined to be "All Male", to prove he wasn't a wimp. I knew what he was thinking but couldn’t do anything to ease his concerns as I had too much on my plate handling my own issues. I sat and quietly began to review how my hobbies and habits would have to change to accommodate my girlhood. Our reunion had driven home the fact I couldn't fight the transformation which had already physically occurred, now I'd have to mentally adapt to my femininity. Unknowingly, a smile of satisfaction crept onto my lovely face.
We arrived home after dark and quietly parked in the garage. Everyone was tired from the trip and reunion, and we decided to go to bed early so we could go visit the new house dad had located. I felt uneasy heading into the guest room. Bobby still had the bedroom we'd shared for as long as we could remember. But it was most definitely a boy's bedroom and I no longer had a place there.
Arising early, I nervously pulled on the second outfit mother had gotten for me. After my pink nylon lace edged panty and bra set were on, I slid the yellow mid-thigh length shorts onto my rounded bottom. They fit snugly and accentuated my curvy derriere. A white sleeveless top with a silk screened adorable kitten adorning the front clung to my torso revealing my budding breasts. The pink accented sneakers once more served as my footwear. I emerged from my room to hear Bobby muttering angrily in his room. Knocking gently, I waited until Bobby said to come in. Entering, I saw my brother sitting on his bed struggling to get his shirt on. The cast on his arm was quite an obstacle.
I went over to help, but Bobby snapped angrily at me. "I can do it myself! I don't need any stupid girl to help me get dressed! Just leave me alone!” he said huffily as he turned his back toward me.
I stood there with my arms stretched out to help, stunned into immobility by the unexpected outburst. In wide-eyed surprise and with my lips trembling, I stammered, "I... I... I was just... What difference does my being a girl make? You're still my brother. I can help."
"Get out!" Bobby shouted, "Just leave me alone!"
I turned and quickly fled the room with tears flowing down my cheeks. I bumped into my Dad in the hall, he'd been on his way to see what the commotion was all about. He caught me and saw the tears and anguish on my face. I twisted from his grasp and fled into the guest room as the tears erupted into sobs. Dad hesitated, unsure whether to follow me or not, then entered Bobby’s room. I was angry that Bobby had been so nasty to me and knew dad would let him have it so I stifled my sobs and crept out of the guest room to peek in my old bedroom.
Bobby still had his back to the door and thought I had reentered. He started rapidly spewing venom. "I told you to get out, you stupid bitch!" His face lost all color as he saw it was our father. Bobby realized immediately he was in deep trouble by the hard expression etched into Dad's face.
Before Bobby could do more than stare open mouthed, Dad slapped the shocked boy across the face with enough force to topple him backward onto the bed. I was stunned. Dad had never hit us like that. Sure, we'd been spanked, but never in anger. Dad instantly knew he shouldn't have slapped Bobby, but it was too late. Having heard Bobby's outburst, mom brushed past me to enter the room.
"I think we better all sit down and talk this entire situation out, NOW!" she said quietly. "Jamie, please come in here." She waited patiently as I meekly crept in doing my best to stifle my sobs.
Bobby sat up on his bed looking at the floor. "Bobby, I want to know what's going on. Why were you yelling at Jamie?" mom quietly asked.
After an awkward silence during which he hoped we would leave, Bobby finally looked up into the faces of his family. Bobby stared angrily at me, to the point where I stepped over to my father. Realizing why I was scared, Dad put his arms about my trembling body, then he looked at Bobby and understood what was wrong.
"You're afraid of Jamie, aren't you?" dad asked with a hint of amazement. "The two of you were always so much alike, you enjoyed the competition and comradeship of being the same. You were best buddies. Now suddenly you see how feminine Jamie is, and it's shaken your self assurance in your manhood. You're afraid you could become a girl just as easily, so you want nothing to do with Jamie to protect your masculinity."
"Bobby", I began softly. "Dad's right. I still know you, and we still are a lot alike. What's happened to me has not been easy for me to accept. It's hard to explain, but the only way I've been able to deal with this is because of how I've changed. The way I feel now is totally different. The female hormones are making the changes in my body and my mind. If my mind had anything to do with it, I'd be crazy by now. I want to hate being a girl, and I did at first. But as my body changed into a girl's, my mind was changed too. It's still hard to accept, but I know I have no choice but to do so. Just because I've changed, you don't have to. I need you to do all those things we talked about and planned. I certainly can't do them anymore. We have to adjust, I'm not trying to make you become a girl. We have to go our own ways now instead of later."
Bobby looked at me, he’d listened to my gentle plea. "You really are different. James would've never admitted anything like that.” Then looking at our parents, he asked, "Is she right about those hormones? Did they effect her mind?"
Before mom could reply, dad laughed. "They certainly do. Why do you think men and women look at things so differently? They can do the same things and have the same experiences as men, but always see what happened from a radically different perspective. Men can never understand how a woman thinks. You know that from living with your mother."
Mom gave a piercing look at dad, then laughed too. "I think your father is right, hormones do have a lot to do with things. Once your male hormones kick in fully, you'll change too, your voice, a beard, muscles, the works. Then you'll know you’re a man."
Bobby took all this in, then looked again at me, "I'm sorry for what I said, but it is hard to accept you're not my mirror image anymore. I’m so used to seeing myself when I look at you, it's hard not to do that now."
I walked to my brother and after giving him a hug, helped him put on his shirt, then knelt to put his sneakers on his feet. Standing up, I handed him his crutches. As a family we went to breakfast. After eating, everyone got into the car.
It was a fifteen minute drive to the isolated house dad had found. The driveway wound through a wall of pine trees which screened the house from the road. Once past this barrier, you could see the house was an old Victorian building with a full wrap around porch. The rounded turret in the western corner was capped by a round pointed cone covered in copper, the rest of the roof was slate. The stone walls were eighteen inches thick and the windows all had nice wide sills inside. The two and half story structure was surrounded by graceful weeping willows. To the rear was a carriage house made in the same style as the house, only one and half stories high, and it had been converted to a two car garage and bath house for the 20 by 40 foot in-ground swimming pool. The pool was the center piece of the back yard patio.
Inside, the living room was quite large with a nice fireplace. To the left of the entry was an old-time parlor which had been converted into a study/library. The dining room was located behind the parlor, with a large kitchen behind the living room. A pantry, laundry room and a powder room were in the rear. The wide staircase left the foyer and went to a wide hall upstairs. There originally were four bedrooms and one bath but the back two bedrooms had been converted into a master bedroom suite with it's own bath which mom and dad naturally took for themselves. In the front corner bedroom below the rounded turret, mom was thrilled to see the room was bright and papered with pink flowers above the dark stained wainscoting. The rounded area beneath the turret with it's thick sills would make a lovely sitting area.
Mom pictured it with white wicker furnishing surrounding a full sized canopy bed. This was to be my new bedroom. It was meant for a girl. Mom quickly informed everyone that this was to be my room, and they would go that afternoon to get the proper furniture. I felt a tremor of excitement pass through my body as I imagined my mother's description. I felt guilty for being so anxious about such a feminine room.
Bobby took the other front bedroom and our rooms shared a bath. Mom and dad took the master bedroom located behind Jamie's room. The whole family had fallen in love with the house. It's old style charm coupled with the modern amenities was ideal. The location itself was isolated, yet within ten minutes of major shopping areas.
After stopping for lunch, we went to a furniture store to select new furnishings for my bedroom. Bobby and dad sat in lounge chairs while mom and I shopped. I was overwhelmed by the choices available to me for my new bedroom. In the end I simply voiced my opinion in response to my mother's prompting, agreeing to a white wicker bedroom suit. I wanted a regular bed while mom wanted a canopy bed. We finally settled on a four poster bed.
The next two weeks went by quickly as our family prepared for the move. Friends and neighbors were told of the move, and Bobby handled all inquiries from our buddies about James, telling them he was bedridden and needed quiet and rest. I was deathly afraid the guys would want to see me, but with Bobby still in casts they never stayed too long. I helped Bobby dress and undress, but for the most part we avoided each other. Neither of us were comfortable with the changes and missed our identical twinness. During this time, my girlish wardrobe slowly grew, jeans slacks, and shorts, but still no skirts or dresses. I wasn't ready for that yet.
Moving day was hectic. At our new home I helped Bobby place his clothes and toys in his new room. As I put his things in the dresser I found myself recoiling from the jockey shorts and other male clothes, repelled by their coarseness. I marveled at how I resisted giving up these horrid clothes. There was no way I ever wanted to wear those yucky things now. I was glad my new clothes were soft and silky. After I finished helping Bobby, I went back to my bedroom. Sitting in my wicker lounge nestled in the turret, I surveyed my bedroom. Once more I felt that twinge of guilt for rejecting a masculine life. The four poster bed had it's headboard against the wall separating my room from the hall. The soft, fluffy white and pink floral printed quilt and pillows matched the tasseled bed skirt. Matching white wicker night stands flanked the bed, with identical white lamps with pink shades resting on each. A pink clock/radio/CD player/alarm sat on the right stand while a box of pink designer printed tissues rested on the left. The wicker dresser sat beside the closet doors in the wall towards my parents room. My dressing table with it's large mirror sat on the other side of the closet next to one window. The top had a large jewelry box (still fairly empty) and several small bottles of perfume, nail polish, and lipstick.
The northwest exterior wall had two windows, and a wicker bookcase sat between them. It held my stereo system in addition to my books and the teen girl magazines mom had insisted on buying for me. They actually were interesting, but I wasn't about to tell that to mom, at least I was getting a perspective of what girls liked and how they thought.
The southwest wall also had two windows, and my wicker desk sat between these. I smiled ruefully to myself, it was a room any girl would be proud of, and it was all mine. When I felt the now familiar guilt pang for betraying my boyhood, I giggled. When, I wondered, would my subconscious accept my femininity? Quickly I prepared for bed by slipping into a short, lace covered pink baby doll nightie. Gently I fondled my perky breasts as I slowly drifted off to sleep in my new girlish bedroom.
The next week was hectic as our family settled into to our new abode. Bobby and I continued to avoid each other. School was fast approaching, finally Bobby's casts came off and he was finally able to use the pool. I had not used it either so as not to upset Bobby. The truth was that I was afraid to wear the swimsuit my mother had gotten me. It was just too feminine for me. Now that I couldn't use Bobby as an excuse, I hesitated in the bathhouse, listening to my mother and Bobby splashing in the water. The radio was tuned to an oldies station, and I blushed furiously as I listened to "An Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini".
Just as the song ended, Bobby poked his head in and asked what was taking so long. One look at my red face told him the trouble. "Jamie, you look fine, the suit fits you great. Come on,” he said walking up to me and taking my hand. Leading me to the pool, he let go of my hand and jumped in. I stood there and looked down at myself once more. I wore a pink one piece suit. The neck opened moderately in the front to reveal a tempting view of my firm young breasts. The neckline scooped to my waist in the rear, and clung to me like a second skin. The bottom of the suit was hidden by a built-in saucy ruffled skirt which just barely covered my crotch. Swallowing back my anxiety, I drove in the water.
The water was warm and relaxing. The release of being in the inviting water soon had Bobby and I laughing and playing. Mom smiled as she watched her offspring frolic in the water. Bobby tired quickly, and the three of us were soon lying on the lounges, covered in tanning oil, soaking up the warm sun. Dad startled us by doing a cannonball into the pool when he arrived home. A barbecue ended the pleasant day.
School... the thought sent chills through me. I'd meet and have to make friends with real girls. The idea terrified me, what if they could tell I wasn't a real girl? I almost made myself ill with worry. Mom took this opportunity to convince me it was time to wear a dress or skirt. "By wearing a dress, no one would doubt you're a girl. You know you look like a girl, and you're starting to act naturally feminine. If anyone questions you, simply tell them you were the only girl in an all boy neighborhood, and so were a tomboy to be with your brother. They'll accept that."
In the stores, I shyly undressed and allowed slips, dresses and skirts to be slid onto my shivering body. My mind rebelled once more, a skirt was the last line of resistance, my subconscious guilt fought doggedly. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I would've broken and fled if my mother hadn't been with me constantly soothing my jittery nerves and drying my tears, reassuring me about my girlhood. Finally, several skirts, blouses, slips and dresses were chosen. Pantyhose, tights, knee socks and lacy anklets were bought. Shoes, low and medium heeled, slip on and buckled, were purchased to replace the sneakers I'd worn all summer. New ribbons and hair clips, new nail polish, lipstick, perfume, and necklaces were bought. The final commitment to my girlhood came as I sat nervously as my ears were pierced. I was surprised it went so easily, only feeling a tiny prick as each was done. Weakly I smiled when I saw the tiny gold balls adorning my cute lobes. The wash and trim at the beauty shop was easy. I was very relieved when the long day of shopping came to a close, and delighted no one had seemed to suspect I was anything but a young girl.
On the first day of school, I was up early. After a relaxing shower, I wrapped my wet hair in a towel as I powdered my soft, pink body. Slipping on a lace edged pink nylon panty, bra, and matching slip, I slid a pair of sheer pantyhose up my smooth legs. For several moments I sat caressing my silken legs, luxuriating in the sensuousness of my shapely legs. Next I took a pair of pink lace topped anklets and slipped them onto my stocking covered feet. I couldn’t help but giggle as I extended my legs and wiggled my pink clad toes. Removing the towel, I brushed and dried my long silky straight red hair, which now reached my shoulder blades. Leaving my silky locks free, I stepped into a blue denim mini-skirt. I wiggled it over my hips and zipped it snugly about my shapely hips. Satisfied with the fit, I picked up the pink bulky knit sweater and slipped it over my head. It was snug enough to reveal my budding breasts, but not to hug them. Looking in the mirror, I pulled her hair from the confines of the sweater, letting it cascade down my shoulders. Brushing it again, I made sure my bangs were hanging evenly above my eyes, covering my forehead. Gathering the rest of my luxurious hair, I pulled it back into a single ponytail, securing it in place with a large pink ribbon I formed into a bow.
Going to the dressing table, I seated myself and carefully polished my nails with a pink gloss. Once dried, I applied a matching pink lip gloss to my pouty lips. Gold earrings fashioned into cute bears were put into my ears, and a matching necklace draped about my lovely neck. Looking myself over, I sprayed myself lightly with Love's Baby Soft perfume. Satisfied, I went to the full length mirror hanging on the inside of my closet door. Looking myself over critically, I observed a nervous, wide-eyed young girl, her lovely face framed by the red halo of her silky hair. The pink anklets accentuated her smooth, silky legs, which disappeared at mid-thigh into a snug denim mini-skirt molded to the curves of her developing body. The bulky pink sweater showed her femininity while concealing it. I saw a perky young teenage girl, very soft, feminine, and innocent. Swallowing my nervousness, I smiled at the girl, and picked up a pair of one and half inch heeled T-strap white shoes which I slipped onto my dainty pink feet and buckled securely. Picking up the matching white purse and slinging it over my shoulder, I glanced at the pretty girl in the mirror, smiled at her, winked and headed confidently to breakfast.
Bobby was already eating when I entered. Looking up, Bobby sat there with a mouth full of half chewed food. He was totally unprepared for the attractive creature who entered the room.
Mom saw her daughter and came over for a hug. "You look simply marvelous, Jamie," she said enthusiastically. "No one would guess you were ever a tomboy. What do you think, Bobby? Isn't your sister lovely?”
Bobby swallowed the food in his mouth, almost choked, then said, "I'll say she's pretty. I'm almost sad you’re my sister. I'd like to have a girl friend who looks as good as you do! Jamie, you're a knockout!"
Smiling sweetly, I spun in a circle and said, "Thank you, I feel as good as I look! Mom, you were right. Wearing pretty clothes is so much nicer than those yucky clothes Bobby wears. I'm glad I can wear these now. I just feel warm and soft all over. The feel of my pantyhose, lingerie and shirts, all rubbing me at the same time is great!" I sat down slowly, carefully adjusting my skirt to attempt a token of demureness in the short skirt.
Bobby lowered his head and concentrated on his breakfast. I could tell my exclaimation of delight in my girlishness bothered him. I think he was a bit jealous that I enjoyed being a girl and he couldn't share that with me.
Arriving at the school, mom took her twins into the offices. Our first day in junior high and in a new school district, was quite an experience. We had most of the same classes, and Bobby discovered he had a lot of guys talking to him, only to be disappointed when they all began grilling him about me. They were interested in me, not him. I could feel him looking at me again and again, and the envy he'd felt at breakfast repeatedly raised it's ugly head. I knew he became angry with himself and there was nothing I could do to help him so I tried to think of other things.
Over the next few days I rapidly adjusted to my girlhood. I was always careful about what I wore, how I moved, and what I said. The boys were all fascinated by me. I was a pretty, soft girl they loved to be near, and I knew about sports and boy’s feelings. I quickly learned to play the boys well, awkwardly at first, but smoothly after a little practice. I was able to make them feel good about themselves, and guilty about what they wanted to do to me. I easily kept them close, but never let them touch. I'd become an efficient flirt, and loved it. I made several girlfriends too, not with the IT girls, but with girls who simply enjoyed being girls. Now that I'm confident about being a girl, I need to see what I can do to help Bobby.
*************
Our English teacher asked us to write a story about what we did on our summer vacation... so cliche... and this was it. Can you imagine she thought my story was fiction? She only gave me a 'C'!
What I did on my Summer Vacation
Near the start of the previous summer our family was on vacation in Mexico where we were involved in a nasty vehicle accident when an out of control bus careened down a narrow mountain road. In addition to the dozens of Mexicans on the bus who were seriously injured, our entire family had been hurt. Jimmie, as the least seriously injured, was taken to a private clinic because the hospital was overwhelmed. There Jimmy managed to miss-communicate with the staff and our lives changed forever. Being a horny twelve year old like me, he thought he was hitting on a cute nurse but with the language barrier wound up undergoing the clinic’s specialty... sexual reassignment surgery! My identical twin Jimmy became my twin sister Jamie.
Jamie’s scheme to help us become identical twins again started shortly after we started seventh grade. Because of the Jamie’s drastic change after the accident, we moved to a new home and switched school districts. It took all last summer for me to heal from the broken left arm and leg I’d suffered in the accident and I was not allowed to participate in Phys-ed for the entire year. That alone put me on the outs with the guys.
On top of that I had a real hard time dealing with Jamie’s changes. We’d always been super close, like a lot of identical twins, and now we were growing apart. What was even more unbearable was that Jamie made a really cute girl! If she had been so readily changed from a rough and tumble boy like me, how macho could I, her no longer identical twin, be?
Just after we moved into our new house, Jamie offered to help me dress as it was quite difficult to do being in casts. I didn't want her help and yelled at her calling her some nasty names. My parents heard and dad slapped me, which I deserved. Then we all sat down to try to discuss the issue. I couldn't put my problems into words.
"You're afraid of Jamie, aren't you?" dad finally asked with a hint of amazement. "The two of you were always so much alike, you enjoyed the competition and comradeship of being the same. You were best buddies. Now suddenly you see how feminine Jamie is, and it's shaken your self assurance in your manhood. You're afraid you could become a girl just as easily, so you want nothing to do with Jamie to protect your masculinity."
The truth was humiliating but undeniable. I had issues facing Jamie because I was afraid of my masculinity! I overcame my issues enough to accept her assistance in dressing, but went my own way during the day. Being in casts I couldn't get around too well so I mostly stayed in my bedroom.
My casts came off the last week of summer vacation and I was finally able to use the pool that came with out new house. Mom and I were in the water but Jamie never came out. Then the radio played 'Itsy Bitsey Yellow Polka Dot Bikini' and I realized why she hadn't come out. I had to coax Jamie out of the bath house as she was embarrassed to be seen in her swimsuit. She looked cute in her pink one piece suit.
I was nervous about starting at our new school. I was eating breakfast when Jamie came into the kitchen. Looking up, I sat there with a mouth full of half chewed food. I was totally unprepared for the attractive creature who entered the room. To say I was stunned is an understatement. It was the first time I saw her in a skirt. My formerly identical twin brother was now a perky young teenage girl, very soft, feminine, and innocent. Swallowing my nervousness, I smiled at my sister.
Mom saw Jamie and came over for a hug. "You look simply marvelous, Jamie," she said enthusiastically. "No one would guess you were ever a tomboy. What do you think, Bobby? Isn't your sister lovely?”
I swallowed the food in my mouth, almost choked, then said, "I'll say she's pretty. I'm almost sad you’re my sister. I'd like to have a girl friend who looks as good as you do! Jamie, you're a knockout!"
Smiling sweetly, Jamie spun in a circle and said, "Thank you, I feel as good as I look! Mom, you were right. Wearing pretty clothes is so much nicer than those yucky clothes Bobby wears. I'm glad I can wear these now. I just feel warm and soft all over. The feel of my pantyhose, lingerie and shirts, all rubbing me at the same time is great!" As she sat down slowly, she carefully smoothed her skirt just like a girl.
I lowered my head and tried to concentrate on my breakfast. Jamie's exclamation of delight in her girlishness bothered me. It really bothered me that I was a bit jealous that she enjoyed being a girl and I couldn't share that with her.
Arriving at the school, mom took her twins into the offices. Our first day in junior high and in a new school district, was quite an experience. We had most of the same classes, and I discovered I had a lot of guys talking to me, only it didn't take long to be disappointed when they began grilling me about Jamie. They were interested in her, not me. Frustrated, I looked at Jamie again and again, and the envy I'd felt at breakfast repeatedly raised it's ugly head. I became angry with himself and there was nothing I could do. Trying to think of other things didn't help.
As seventh graders in our new school, we knew no one. I quickly became bitter as I realized the guys I talked to weren't interested in being my friend. I watched Jamie revel in her femininity. She was pretty and received a lot of attention. I was still not fully recovered from my injuries having only shed my casts the week before school began and still limped. I was still bent out of shape by what had happened over the summer and was far from being receptive to making new friends. I quickly discovered the guys who were being friendly to me were just doing so just to get close to Jamie. I curtly shut them down and was quickly tagged as a loser.
For her part Jamie easily made friends and even began flirting with the guys. Since we shared most of our classes, I found myself growing increasingly envious of her. The conversation we’d had in our kitchen that morning haunted me. I desperately missed the comradery I’d previously enjoyed with my twin. By the end of the day I was alone while Jamie had several new friends. It really ripped me apart.
As the next days passed, in my loneliness during a class, I’d look at Jamie and my mind wandered. Wondering if my clothes really were yucky? Wondering what it felt like to wear nylon undies and pantyhose? Wondering if I would like wearing them as much as she did? When those thoughts smacked into my brain I’d suddenly turned red as I realized where my thoughts were heading. I’d set my jaw and I scolded myself, damn, I was a guy! I would spent the rest of the class scolding myself only to have it happen again in our next class.
As that first week passed, I became more and more frustrated. Jamie and I resumed some of our past closeness by helping each other with homework and chores and we discussed our new school lives. I snarkily commented about how easily Jamie wrapped the boys around her finger and she readily admitted this to me. Later, when I had attempted to warn some of the guys in our class they were behaving like fools, I was accused of being jealous of Jamie's popularity. None of the guys were interested in becoming my friend.
Adding to my anger was the fact I was unable to participate in any sports. My injuries were slow to heal, and while I could move around without too much trouble, rough activity was out of the question. My frustration about my inability to play sports coupled with my jealousy of Jamie's popularity served to isolate me. None of the guys wanted anything to do with me. I was forced to sit on the sidelines with Jamie and her friends, while all the time I wished I could be out there playing with the guys. The girls accepted me as Jamie’s brother and were even sympathetic about my limitations because of my injuries. The girls were acquaintances, not friends and none were close. Since I had no guy friends, I hung with Jamie as she talked freely with her girl friends about fashions and guys. I felt like a fifth wheel while hanging with Jamie and her friends. This only added to my turmoil and began to make me feel like a sissy. When Jamie went to a dance, movie, or to the mall with her girl friends, I stayed home. It hurt me too much to see Jamie surrounded by her friends and I felt like a fool when I tagged along with her. I quickly became a loner. The only person I could talk to was Jamie and she proved a very sympathetic listener.
The doctor told us I needed to begin physical therapy but the nearest qualified therapist was a half hour away and quite expensive and our insurance was nearly tapped out for the year. Mom knew I needed to exercise, but it had to be regimented controlled actions. Jamie also needed more fluidity and grace to erase the remnants of her tomboyishness. Mom decided private dancing lessons at a local dance studio would serve both our needs at the same cost as PT for me alone. By the second week of school we twins were enrolled in a local dance school. We went there directly from school every day for a half hour lesson.
I really balked when I learned we had to wear tights and leotards for our lessons. Jamie smiled and told me wearing tights and leotard would give me a delightful taste of how she felt all the time in her delightful girly clothes. The only compromise made to ausage my masculinity was that my tights and leotard would be black while Jamie naturally wore pink. The first time I slipped on the tights I shivered with repulsion and delight. Although thicker than Jamie's normal lingerie, they still felt naughtily wonderful caressing my legs. The leotard felt equally nice. Of course I never mentioned that, but Jamie's smile told me she knew I liked how it felt. I blushed guitily.
Jamie was delighted with the lessons and leapt into the spirit wholeheartedly. I felt dancing was for sissies and went only because I was forced to go. Alone in the closed studio, my reservations faded as Jamie's enthusiasm proved contagious and I invariably joined in. We quickly learned the basics and grew stronger and graceful.
Jamie was well aware of my problems and decided to talk to our mother. After listening to Jamie, mom recognized that I had a growing problem. She discussed it with dad and he saw the trouble. Unfortunately, none of them could find a solution, but they all made an effort to listen and talk with me.
I spent quite a bit of time home alone on weekends. My thoughts went in endless circles every day. Thoughts of how Jamie and I had always been identical until the accident nearly drove me crazy. How I longed for the comfort and security we'd had as identical twins. How I wished fervently Jamie could return to boyhood, but I saw how happy she was as a girl and knew that would never be. I remembered overhearing our mother and Jamie talk about how nice it was to be a girl and have all the pretty clothes to wear, and how nice those clothes felt. I grimaced as I remembered Jamie saying how she was now repelled by the thought of wearing yucky boys' clothes. I wondered if they were right. Jamie certainly loved her dresses and skirts. My anguish and curiosity steadily rose as to just how pleasant girls' clothes were. From this, it was only a short while until it occurred to me that Jamie and I were still the same size, although definitely proportioned differently. Her clothes would probably fit me. I could find out how they felt. Then my mind would scream. "How they feel! What am I thinking about!"
I sat up on my bed where I'd been lying contemplating my life. I was wide-eyed with fear and perspiring freely. I was out of breath and starting to panic, "Wow! I've got to get a hold on myself. Dressing up in Jamie's clothes?" Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I stood up and began pacing. Talking aloud to myself I went on, "I've got to get busy. I've vegetated to long. I'm a boy! I've got to act like one!" I stood there looking out my window at the colorful leaves on the trees. I thought of how pretty they were in the fall.
A worried look crossed my face, "Why did I think that? Boy's don't think like that! Here I am trying to figure out what to do and my mind wonders off to stupid leaves!" In frustration, I stormed out of my room and went downstairs, flipping on the television to watch a football game and immersed myself in that.
These thoughts occurred more and more frequently to me, and I isolated myself more. Jamie later told me saw the anger and fear in me and did all she could to help. Talking with me, she soon realized her suspicions were right. I was afraid I was not capable of becoming a proper man since Jamie was so feminine and we had been so much alike. She knew I was attracted to her femininity which threw my masculinity into doubt. Nothing she or our parents helped my shaken manhood.
Jamie also later told me her thoughts followed mine. "If only he could experience what I feel now, he'd understand. Only if he understands, he'd want it too, it's so much nicer.... Hmmmm. Maybe he could. We were identical twins, I can't change back into a boy, but he could change into a girl, just like I did!" I'm sure she had a mischievous smile on her face as she set out to figure a way to have me become her sister.
Going in for her monthly follow up with her gynecologist in November, she asked the doctor how the hormones had changed her. When the doctor saw she was truly interested, she gave her a list of books to read that would help her understand. Our parents were pleased with her acceptance of her femininity, and took her to a local college library where she took out the books on the list. She spent hours making notes on the physical and mental changes, and how the younger a person starts on therapy, the more effective it will be. She learned a great deal about why she changed so quickly and easily. Knowing I was the same age and size as she was, a similar dosage of hormones to me should have the same effect it did on her.
It took until Christmas before she was able to set her plan into motion, she began to pick up her hormones at the mall drugstore where she had an open prescription. Doing it that way our parents wouldn't get suspicious about the sudden increase in usage. Next, she volunteered to prepare breakfast, saying it would be good experience for her housekeeping abilities. Mom certainly didn't object. Jamie carefully dissolved the proper dosage of female hormones in my orange juice since I always drank a glass of juice for breakfast.
During supper, she slipped another dose into my drink, and sweetly supplied me with a light bedtime snack conveniently laced with the illicit hormones. At the same time, she began a campaign to entice me into an even stronger desire to try on her things.
I never suspected a thing as she began to ask me to help her zip her dresses, enabling me to see and touch her slips. She made sure I had lots of opportunity to see and feel her lacy hems. Never missing a chance, she verbally expressed her delight in the silky sensation of her lovely clothes. She made sure to repeatedly comment that I got a taste of how nice girly clothes felt by enjoying wearing our leotards and tights during our dancing sessions.
At the time I was unaware of my sister's diabolical plot, but I secretly thrilled to the chance's afforded me to touch and see the silken lace world of femininity. Seeing my sister enjoying herself only served to fuel my confusion. Although repelled by the thoughts of experiencing those forbidden pleasures, I was invariably drawn closer, just as a moth is to a flame. By mid April the clandestine hormone therapy and teasing pushed me to the breaking point. Then one Friday night Jamie "accidentally" misplaced a pair of lacy pink nylons panties in my folded laundry.
That day was the straw that broke the camel's back of my masculinity. That day Jamie had been particularly unrelenting in flaunting her femininity and teasing comments about how yummy it felt to wear girl's clothes. My mind was totally confused, I couldn't get the thought of trying on something soft and lacy out of my mind. I was angry and frustrated. Like most guys, I masturbated to relieve my sexual stress. Unfortunately the last few weeks had only aggravated my libido because became increasingly difficulty to jerk off, failing completely the past week. It seemed as if my penis was even shrinking. I desperately wanted to be a man, but longed to see what it felt like to be a girl. I assumed this was why I didn't get hard when I tried to jerk off during my shower. On top of that my breasts seemed to be swelling and their tenderness added to my agony. The fact my nipples became erect and tingled pleasantly while pulling my shrinking manhood destroyed my desire to cum.
Drying off dejectedly, I put my robe on to hide my nakedness. I returned to my room to jump into bed, hoping sleep would end my turmoil. I sighed in defeat when I saw my laundry stacked on my bed. Slowly gathering it and placing it atop my dresser I began to place the items in their proper drawers. My heart stopped when I saw a flash of pink. Stuck inside one of my T-shirts was a pink treasure! Picking it up slowly, I was mesmerized by the silken pink lace edged nylon delight. After looking at it a few moments I gingerly took it by the lacy waist and held it in both hands, drinking in the pleasing enticing site. Slowly I lifted it to my face and began to rub the silky nylon against my cheek gently. Suddenly I felt himself getting hard! My breasts also began to tingle and a warm feeling spread quickly throughout my trembling body.
The warmth took control and I let the robe fall to the floor. Trembling, I lowered the panties to my crotch and fervently massaged my genitals. I shivered excitedly and after a few moments, yielded to the inevitable temptation and stepped into the pink enticement. I moaned softly as waves of pleasure swept over me as the silky lace garment slid up my pre-pubescent still hairless legs. I almost came as I felt the panties about my derriere, encasing my small but throbbing penis. My hands gently caressed my rounded buttocks, sending new thrills throughout my trembling body. Barely able to stand, I staggered to my bed and fell forward upon it almost swooning. Lying on my tummy, I writhed on the bed, my cock being caressed by the nylon as I moved over the sheets. Mysteriously, the pleasant tingling of my breasts from the contact with the rough texture of my blanket swelled and seemed to merge with the pleasure from my manhood. Wanting to prolong the pleasure engulfing me I rolled over to keep myself from coming too quickly. My hands unconsciously rose to my budding breasts. Cupping them gently I began to fondle them, pinching the nipples occasionally and moaning.
My cock swelled more, straining against the silken confines of the panties as waves of ecstasy washed over me. My breasts seemed to be the focal point of my pleasure while my cock was a close second. Looking down my body, I could see my cock looked small in it's pink tent even though it felt ready to burst. My arousal grew as I realized I was looking between the twin mounds my hands were feverishly caressing. Afterward I wondered why I could notice these things as I approached what felt to be an orgasm strong enough to kill me. Suddenly I saw stars. Arching my back and lifting my butt high above the bed, a loud cry of orgasmic pleasure escaped my lips as my penis spewed forth warm sticky cum into the panties. It seemed as if I spurted gallons of spunk. The cry dwindled to a low moan as my body dropped heavily to the bed. I laid there semiconscious.
Just then a quick knock came from the door of our adjoining bath. "Bobby? Are you all right?" Jamie’s concerned voice asked in a loud whisper. I tried to tell her to go away, but all that came out was another, louder moan. I rolled my head toward the door as it opened and a slim hand reached in to turn on the light. Standing in the open door was Jamie wearing a delightful sexy pink baby doll nightie looking directly at me.
Seeing me obviously exhausted lying on the rumpled bed wearing her pink panties which were obviously wet with my cum, my hands still resting on my chest; she couldn't help but smile. Her bizarre plan was working! Quickly stepping inside my room, she shut the door and crossed to my bed. Sitting down beside me, she placed a hand on my shriveled penis and brushed my hands off my chest with the other, then she gently began fondling my budding breasts and wilted cock, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"It's all right Bobbie," she cooed softly. "I see you discovered the present I left for you." She slid a finger under the waist band of the panties I wore, raised it slightly, and let it snap back. "I can tell you really enjoyed them!" With those words she leaned over and kissed both of my erect nipples, then gently began to suck on one, and then the other.
"Ohhhhhhh " was all I could say as waves of less intense but very pleasurable sensations coursed throughout my body. It took almost ten minutes before I recovered enough to reach up to Jamie to gently caress her firm boobies and pull her to me for a passionate kiss. This led to a very pleasant and satisfying mutual exploration of each other.
I kissed Jamie as her tongue sought out mine, her hand squeezed my limp cock as I slid a hand into her already wet crotch. We held and fondled the other's breasts with our other hand. Jamie quickly came as I grew hard. Before either of us knew what was happening my erection slipped into her writhing body and we were eagerly screwing. This time, we came together, although virtually nothing came from my penis. We laid in each others arms, kissing and touching warmly until we fell asleep.
Saturday morning Jamie woke first. She began to kiss my sore, tender breasts, and I quickly awoke. I reached for her crotch, but she twisted about until her breasts were above my eager mouth. We spent several minutes sucking and squeezing our boobies.
Finally, Jamie raised her head. "Well, Bobbie, how do you like being a girl?" she smiled devilishly.
"I'm not a girl," I said defensively.
"Oh, no?" she laughed, giving a playful squeeze to one of my breasts. "Then what are these lovely things on your chest, SIS?"
Blushing furiously, I stammered, "I... I... d... d... don't know. I guess they’re boobs, but I don't know how they got there. I shouldn't have them, I'm a boy."
"No you're not. You used to be a boy, just like I did; but now you're turning into a girl like me. You are my sister now," Jamie said. "I just gave you an experience I never had a chance to enjoy, but you'll never experience it that way again! Soon, you'll be able to enjoy it like I did!"
I was totally confused. Before my thoughts could coalesce into seeking a reason, I was being led to our bathroom where Jamie and I cleaned up the mess from our lovemaking. The entire time she kept firing questions at me, answering them and keeping me confused while caressing me into a state of arousal which added to my sorry mental state.
Taking me into her room, she handed me a pair of clean yellow lace trimmed satin panties and helped me put them on. While I smoothed them in place, luxuriating in the pleasant sensations, she placed a matching lace edged yellow satin bra about my chest, hooking it in the rear and adjusting the straps to support my now encased breasts. Looking down at my breasts, I was overwhelmed to see I almost filled out the bra! My boobies tingled with pleasure. I moaned softly as Jamie gently caressed my twin treasures. Next she slid a matching slip over my head, smoothing it sensuously about my waist and hips. I trembled violently as I almost swooned. My mind was spinning as I slowly regained control. My battered masculinity started to rebel.
"St... stop! What are you doing to me? I can't wear this stuff! I'm a boy! Take it off! It's not right, I'm not your sister, I'm your brother!" I stated defiantly.
"Mmmmmmmmm," crooned Jamie as she sensuously slid her hands over my satin and lace clad body. "Don't be so stubborn, Bobbie. This feels so scrumptious, doesn't it? You know it does, and you know you love the way it feels, even if you won't admit it!” Her hands slid up once more to caress my breasts as my resistance to her entreaties crumbled. "I want you to look me straight in the eye, and tell me this isn't the greatest thing you've ever experienced."
I looked searchingly into my sister's sparkling green eyes, wet my lips and swallowed. "It does feel good, Jamie, but it's not supposed to, I shouldn't be feeling these things much less enjoying them," I croaked out hoarsely. "I'm a boy. I can't be a girl like you... can I?”
Jamie hugged me tenderly, "You not only can be a girl like me, you ARE a girl like me! Now stop being silly and let's finish dressing you! With that she pushed me onto her bed and reached over to pick up the pantyhose she'd gotten ready. Rolling them slowly up my legs, she made sure to caress and arouse me. My legs barely held me as she had me stand up so she could snug them about my slim waist. I stood there silently with my eyes closed tightly and fists clenched. I was fruitlessly trying to deny the pleasure sweeping my trembling body.
Sitting me down once more, Jamie quickly slipped the pink lace trimmed anklets onto my nylon clad feet. This was followed by a pair of shiny black patent leather T-strap Mary Janes shoes. I opened my eyes to see what Jamie was doing. What I saw was an obvious smile of smug satisfaction on her face. Nervously I followed her gaze. Helplessly I swallowed upon seeing my shapely nylon clad legs emerging from the lacy pink slip which rested at mid-thigh.
The sight of my dainty pink encased feet inside the shiny shoes made my heart sink. What I saw screamed out GIRL! I gasped audibly trying to hold back the tears of frustrated boyhood. I couldn't deny the truth to myself any longer. I enjoyed the sensations these forbidden clothes were forcing upon me, nor could I deny the fact that I did look quite feminine. I sat there in silence, trying to fight the confession I had no choice but to make. Looking up at Jamie, she held out her hand invitingly. I forlornly looked at it and realized that if I took her proffered hand, I'd be admitting my acceptance of my unexpected girlhood. For several moments I stared at her hand, mentally wrestling with my masculinity and burgeoning femininity.
Almost imperceptively at first, I saw my hand slowly rise, seemingly on it’s own. I was startled by this and trying to stop it caused my hand to start shaking violently. I began to whimper as I struggled. Finally I managed to stop my hand from reaching any further towards Jamie's hand, but I couldn't pull it back.
Jamie stepped forward, touching her fingertips to mine. I looked pleadingly up to her only to see the enticing inviting smile on her now radiant face. My gaze guiltily fell to my hand as of it’s own accord it leapt forward into Jamie's warm, comforting grasp,
I sighed in defeat and ceased resisting, allowing Jamie to pull me to my feet and wrap me in a comforting hug as I cried. Once I recovered she lead me to her closet. Opening the door, she reached in and removed a soft, pink flowered mini-dress. I looked longingly at it and shivered in anticipation.
Jamie lifted the dress over my head as I slid it over my shivering body. The dress had a ruffled lace edged collar, full length sleeves with elastic cuffs to match the neckline. The princess style bodice lee down to the dropped waist skirt which consisted of two tiered ruffles. The skirt ended 3 inches above my knees. I almost swooned as I drank in the sensations of my skirt and slip gently touching and caressing my thighs.
Jamie led me to her dressing table and seated me with my back towards the mirror. She gently brushed my red shoulder length hair, forming bangs over my forehead, then parting the rest down the center of my head. Thus divided, she gathered each side into matching ponytails centered above and to the rear of each ear. Taking two pink hair ribbons, she tied them into perky bows. A touch of pink lip gloss, and a careful manicure and pink nail polish were the only makeup. Placing a simple gold chain about my neck, she added a light spray of perfume to complete my transformation from Bobby into Bobbie.
Smiling from ear to ear, Jamie once more led my trembling formerly male body to her full-length mirror. I stared at my reflection, not believing I wasn't looking at Jamie. The only difference was the length of our hair. For the first time in almost a year I once more looked like my identical twin. I saw a very sweet, pretty girl.
There was no denying my reflection was a girl, and I knew I was looking at myself since Jamie's hair was longer. I swallowed as I closely examined my reflection. I could see no other differences. I was frightened and thrilled by this revaluation. I felt my small penis lose the semi erection I’d had, and knew that I'd never miss it. Jamie smiled and hugged her new sister.
Mom almost dropped the flower pot she was moving when she saw Jamie and I. At first she thought she was seeing double until she realized the dresses were different. She sat down hard in a nearby chair as we two lovely girls approached. She recognized the shyer one with shorter hair was me, Bobbie. Her mouth opened several times to speak, but nothing emerged.
Jamie spoke up, "Mom this is my sister Bobbie. She knows she's my identical twin. That was the problem with my brother Bobby, he knew we were identical twins too, and since I couldn't go back to being a boy, he had to become a girl."
Gaining her voice, mom said, "But he can't! How can he become a girl?"
Smiling and taking my hand in hers, Jamie said, "It's easy, all she needs is the same surgery I had. I’ve already had her on female hormones for over four months. Those are her breasts, not padding."
Mom stared at both of us, then looked at me. "What? Bobbie, have you been taking Jamie’s hormones?”
I blushed not yet aware of all the details of Jamie's plan.
“Yes, mother, she has been taking my hormones but she didn’t know it,” Jamie confessed surprising mom and I. “I’ve been secretly feeding them to her.”
I couldn’t figure out why I was growing breasts, now I knew. “Mom, Jamie did what needed to be done. We are identical twins. She’s shown me how nice it is to be a girl. I am a girl now, too, Jamie has made sure of that! I could never go back to wearing those ugly boy’s clothes!
Mom sat there taking all this in when dad walked into the kitchen and stopped in mid-step. “What’s going on?
Jamie proceeded to tell him the entire story. Weakly he collapsed into the seat by mom as I confessed my acceptance of my girlhood.
Jamie and I began to prepare lunch while our parents discussed this latest twist to their lives. They realized Jamie had done quite a number on her twin, but had done it out of love. They also understood she had found the only effective solution to my dilemma. Her explanation that they would never have agreed to instigating her bizarre plan was quite true. Her ability to see the scope of the issues was better than their’s since we twins had always been so close. Although not pleased with the turn of events, they knew there was no longer any alternative but to accept the fact we twins needed to be identical and would be once I had my surgery.
After breakfast, we headed out to the furniture store and bought another four poste twin bed to match Jamie's. Dad managed to get it into our SUV and by that evening I was once more sharing a bedroom with my twin. It wasn't until we settled under the covers that night that we both realized how much we missed being together at night. My former bedroom became our guestroom.
Sunday mom took Jamie and I to a hair salon and had our hair trimmed to identical lengths. Once that was done it was almost impossible to tell us apart. Almost each night we cuddled and caressed each other. My maleness never again responded as it had that first night, and I didn’t miss it one bit.
Unfortunately I did have to wear my yucky boy clothes again so I could finish out the school year. Since I was a loner, no one bothered me about the change in my hairstyle. At least I was able to wear pretty undies underneath those horrid boy rags! As soon as I got home from school I changed into a nice skirt or dress.
Our parents contacted Dr. Mendez, the surgeon who had mistakenly done Jamie's SRS surgery. Two weeks later we took a long weekend and flew down to Mexico. Jamie and I were dressed in one of our cute identical twin outfits of flowered knee length dresses. Dr. Mendez greeted us warmly, but was confused to see two identical smiling girls. Our giggling gave us away but he was especially glad Jamie had adapted so well to her unwanted sex-change. This time he made sure there was an interpreter present when he questioned us, me in particular, about my desire to once more become Jamie's identical twin. After a physical which verified I'd been chemically castrated by the hormones Jamie had been giving me and already had perky natural breasts. When he was satisfied I truely wanted to be a girl, we scheduled the surgery for the week after school let out.
So now my story of what I did on my summer vacation this year can actually begin.
The day after school let out for the year, Mom and I flew to Mexico. Jamie wanted to come along but mom insisted she'd be bored and needed to stay home to make sure dad ate some good meals. I wore a simple skirt and blouse for the trip. My tummy was doing flip-flops as we approached the clinic. I knew I could never go back to being a boy, either physically or mentally, but I still harbored a bit of dread about taking the final irrevocable step.
Jamie never knew what was happening to end her life as a boy until she was slipping under the anesthesia. I knew every step of the way what I was doing and that if it hadn't been for Jamie's unwanted SRS, we'd still be back home happily climbing trees instead of doing ballet.
Nurse Diaz greeted us when we finally arrived at the clinic. She was as pretty as Jamie had described. Part of me still understood why he'd found her so attractive and wanted to have sex with her. A much larger part of me hoped Jamie and I would be as retty as she was when we reached adulthood.
Nurse Diaz took special efforts to see mom and I were comfortable in our room. She still felt responsible for misunderstanding Jamie and starting my twin brother on the road to girlhood. She'd even taken classes to learn English so she would never make such a mistake again. Mom and I assured her things had turned out for the best or I wouldn't be here for the same surgery. That went a long way in making her feel better.
The tests the next day seemed anti-climatic, but I'm still glad mom was with me to calm my nerves. The following day Nurse Diaz came in and bathed me to prep me for the surgery. Unlike Jamie, she didn't have to shave my body as I was already keeping myself clean shaven like my sister. The shot in the butt finally finally settled my nerves. Nurse Daiz and mom helped me transfer from the bed to the Gurney. I was smiling blissfully as my body felt it was floating on the air as I was wheeled into the surgery.
I smiled at the nurses and Dr. Mendez as they slipped the IV into my arm. I looked up to see Dr. Mendez open the drip on the IV.
"Don't worry, many times I've done this surgery. In a few hours you will once again be an identical twin with your sister. Jamie has done well in starting you into girlhood with the hormones so it will go easier since you don't have to overcome any male development. When you awake, a lovely young lady you will be. Have a nice nap, my pretty princess," he said as he pushed the plunger on a needle feeding into the IV.
When I awoke it was done. I had become a girl. Once more Jamie and I were identical twins. Of course, it took me almost a week to recover enough to think straight without dozing off. Mom and Nurse Diaz helped me recover. Even though my groin was quite sore I knew it would get better. When I healed enough, I examined my new girlishness. I smiled and knew my transformation was complete.
Four weeks after my surgery, Dad and Jamie arrived at the clinic to escort mom and I home. When Jamie saw me, she squealed and ran to give me a hug. Even though my response was a bit more physically restrained, it was as emotionally equal. Our parents smiled to see our joy, as did Dr. Mendez and nurse Diaz.
Once home my recovery sped up. As before, Jamie and I cuddled a lot. While I had thought my breasts were sensitive and felt wonderful before my SRS, it felt even better now. Jamie assured me once I healed down below, I’d like that much better that what I had before. Judging by her reactions, I was sure she was right.
We spent the summer bonding and selecting our new matching twin wardrobe. Everything we selected was decidedly feminine. Our biggest chore was deciding how to proceed with out lives. We knew I couldn’t return to the school we’d attended for seventh grade. But we loved our home and didn’t want to move again. We only had one option, enroll in St. Paul’s Parochial School for the eighth grade. Besides, we both liked their cute red pleated skirts!
We bounced into our new school for the first day of school. Our utterly girlish identicalness broke down every closed door new students usually encounter on their first day. Everyone wanted to get to know us... especially the boys. Jamie and I freely flirted, but we’d already asked our new girlfriends to point out which boys were spoken for as we didn’t want to cause too much disruption. Still, we had fun and knew we’d love attending school here.
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At the end of the first week of the new school year, our English teacher asked us to write about what we did on our summer vacation... so cliche... She gave me a 'D' because she thought my story was fiction and chewed me out for writing incestuous pornography! Nuns... who can figure them out?