Lee and Leanne were twins, but as a young baby, Leanne dies, leaving her twin with the firm belief that part of her remained with him for always.

As Lee grew in an unhappy home, struggling with a gender identity problem, events occurred that enabled Leanne to come alive again, in more ways than one.

Leanne got a job in a classy cocktail bar, called Badger's, that turned away hundreds for every one that was accepted.

She was a unique girl...

in more ways than one!

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: Badger's Set  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 1
 
 
“You little shit! I’ve had enough of you. Fuck off and go get a life of your own! I’m not paying another penny for you, so it’s time you forgot stupid notions like university, and got yourself a proper job!”

I ducked as Frank swung his fist vaguely in my direction, running upstairs as fast as I could. I wasn’t that bothered about him hitting me, for even when he was sober, I was still much faster than he was.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs and continued to shout abuse. My mother made a half-hearted attempt to quieten him down, but she knew that if she incurred his wrath, she would be the next to attract his anger.

Actually, Frank, my stepfather, was a reasonable man, except when he was drunk. Unfortunately, the latter condition was more prevalent in recent weeks, as the General Motors Plant in Luton had recently laid him off.

My mother had three of their kids to look after, all under ten. Mark was nine, Lucy was seven, and Hannah was only three. I was eighteen, and although I had got on fine with my stepfather up until I was about fourteen, there had been a gradual worsening of relations to undisguised hatred now, dependant upon his alcohol content, otherwise we simply tolerated each other at the maximum possible distance. We rarely came into contact with each other, as I tended to stay away for most of the day, returning in the late evening, by which time he was normally in a drink-fuelled sleep.

He resented me for many reasons, but primarily my academic achievements and my youth. He had been stuck in a dead-end job since he was sixteen, so had never lived anywhere other than Luton, in Bedfordshire.

Mum’s family came from rural Bedfordshire, so after Dad died in South America, what was left of our family returned to the UK and moved back in with her parents.

This time, however, was different. As I packed my case, with heart pounding and adrenaline coursing round my body, I wept for the father who was denied me.
 
 
Dad had been an engineer, having been involved in the construction of the oil pipelines in Columbia for the oil companies, mainly BP. He was posted there for a three-year contract, so Mum had joined him. They had a very nice apartment in Cartegena, in a secure enclave of European and US oil families. There, in a very modern American Hospital, she had given birth to twins, Lee Richard Roberts (me), and my sister - Leanne Rachel Roberts.

My parents had been pleased as punch at our arrival in 1980, and my father registered our births with the British Consulate. Their joy turned to grief when Leanne died of an unknown virus when she was only a few weeks old.

They call it cot death, but I know my mother still resented me for surviving over my sister, even up to this day. To make matters worse, Dad died when guerrillas/drug cartel attacked the pipeline out in the bush. The Columbian soldiers, who should have been guarding the workers, returned fire, but too late to save Dad. A bomb, meant for the pipeline, exploded and killed him instantly. Mum flew us all straight home and went to live with her parents. I don’t remember any of this as I was only a few months old, but I realise now that Mum must have been suffering from terrible postnatal depression, aggravated by the deaths of her daughter and husband.

I was ten or eleven when I found our birth certificates in a box in the attic at my grandparents’ house. Mum had just put everything she had brought back into the attic, and just left them there.

I was sixteen when the letter arrived from the Nation Insurance office, or rather, two letters, one addressed to me and one to Miss Leanne Roberts. They contained our National Insurance Cards. It was then I realised that Mum had never registered Leanne’s death!

I don’t know why, but I was pleased she had never been registered as dead. It is strange, but all through my childhood, which was not really that unhappy, I sensed that my twin was still alive in me, somehow.

Do you know when you sometimes talk to yourself, perhaps solving a problem of working through a difficult decision?

Occasionally, it was if there was another persona inside me, as my conversations took on a surreal quality, and I honestly didn’t know what the other part of me was going to say. I never realised that other people didn’t experience this, but by the time I was about thirteen, it became apparent that I was perhaps unique. I decided to say nothing, as I found from bitter experience that kids do tend to isolate anyone who is the slightest bit ‘different’ and treat them like shit.

Mum had met Frank, my stepfather, at a local function, finding him down to earth and very stable. He was a foreman on the General Motors (Vauxhall/Bedford) assembly line, had his own home, and was steady as a rock. He was exactly what Mum needed, so for a while we were very happy. I was eight, but didn’t want to leave my grandparents.

Dad’s insurance meant that we were reasonably well off, but as Frank and Mum had children, the money began to become very tight. We had a nice four bedroom house in a quiet neighbourhood on the northern outskirts of the town. The airport approach was on the other side of town, so this area was reasonably quiet. I spent a lot of my time with my grandparents, with whom I had a better relationship than my mother.

I loathed Luton and my school. I suppose the teasing started at about the same time. Not being particularly large, and therefore not a physical threat, some of the bigger boys would pick on me and call me names. I tried fighting back, as my stepfather told me that that would make me a man.

“Bullies give up if you fight back,” he had told me.

No they don’t!

They just get even more determined at their task in hand.

It didn’t help that my best friend was a girl.
 
 
Jessica Matthews was my age and she lived about six doors away. She was a pretty dark haired girl, with enormous brown eyes. We sat next to each other in primary school and, for some inexplicable reason, we sort of naturally drifted towards each other. We were both only children ( I didn’t count my half-siblings), so actually got along very well.

As nine year olds, we would spend our time in one or other’s room, playing with whatever was at hand. My stepfather was very much a man’s man. He would take me to see football matches, motor racing, and even built me a go-cart with an old lawn-mower engine. I enjoyed these activities, but actually preferred the time I spent with Jessica.

I didn’t have to be someone I wasn’t. It was hard as a nine year old to explain. By the time I was thirteen, I knew exactly why I felt as I did. We had both progressed to the large High School in Luton. I had few friends apart from her.

The crunch came when Jessica made up may face.

We were at the age where the difference between boys and girls were beginning to be much more marked. Her body started to sprout in all the right places, while all I sprouted were spots.

We were in her room after school, having done our homework, and we were just chatting.

“I went shopping with Mummy last Saturday,” she told me.

“Oh yes?”

“I’ve got tons of new stuff. Makeup and clothes.”

“Oh, so?”

“Do you want to see some?”

“Okay, I suppose.”

The conflicts deep within my soul had started when I was about nine. I thought I was going mad at first. I mean, I was a boy, yet something deep inside me was telling me that I was also a girl. How could that be?

I couldn’t tell anyone, so I just denied it happened.

The feelings just got stronger, and I even tried on some of my mother’s underwear.

The first time I ejaculated came as a huge shock and surprise. I was wearing a bra and panties, and I just came inside the panties. I didn’t even have an erection.

Full of shame and horror at the pleasant feeling I experienced, I washed the panties, drying them before she found out. I would occasionally sneak some from the dirty clothes’ basket, to sleep whilst wearing them.
 
 
Sorry, I digress, back to the story.

Jessica showed me some very pretty dresses and then got out her new makeup case.

She showed me all the brushes and small palette almost like an artist’s palette.

She then suggested she make up my face.

The conflict hit me really hard. The boy in me fought it and the girl welcomed it with excitement causing a fluttering sensation deep in my belly.

The girl won!
 
 
Twenty minutes later, Jessica showed me my face in the mirror.

I was transformed into someone I knew was the real me.

I can’t explain it, but as I stared at the girl in the mirror, tears started to roll from my beautifully made up eyes.

I was unable to stop them, but then the sobs hit me and wracked my body.

Jessica didn’t understand, looking worried for a while. I hugged her and cried for ages. Then I explained the turmoil that was deep within me.

“You’ve always wanted to be a girl?” she asked, astounded.

I nodded, my head downcast in shame and shock, I never meant to share this with anyone.

“Oh you poor love!” she said, giving me an enormous hug.
 
 
That was it. All the emotions just poured out. I wept for ten minutes.

She was wonderful and, looking back, I owe that girl my life. For at last, here was someone with whom I could share and thereby release some of the heavy burden I found myself weighed down with.

Needless to say, after she repaired the rear ruined make up, it was a short step to dress me completely as a girl. Using rolled up socks as a bust, I was dressed head to toe in her clothes. I was wearing a pale pink top, a short pale blue skirt, tights and high heel shoes. As I stared at my reflection, the smile I on my face said it all.

My hair was too short, but Jessica managed to tease it into a semblance of a feminine style. I spent two hours like this, and had to escape to the bathroom when the sexual pressure built up. Still, I had yet to experience a full erection.

Reluctantly, I became Lee again, but would often visit Jess and became Leanne.

As relations with Frank, my stepfather, worsened, I spent more and more time with Jessica. It was to her I came when I discovered Leanne’s birth certificate, and again when the National Insurance cards arrived.

She had been the one to decide that I keep Leanne’s identity. I had thought about it, but been afraid of the consequences.

“Don’t be silly. No one will ever know. You can use the birth certificate to get your drivers licence and passport. You never know, it may come in very useful being two people.”

“I’m not sure. It must be illegal or something. Do you reckon I’ll ever need them both?”

“I’ve been reading all about people like you,” she said.

“Oh?”

“You’re a transsexual. It means you were born with the wrong body.”

I already knew that. I had read up on these things too. In an attempt to understand why I was the way I was, I read up an awful lot of things.

She grinned.

“It means you will have to have a sex change to become female. But first you need loads of female hormones to change you from being a boy.”

“Like that’s going to happen!”

She smiled and held my hand. At sixteen, she was very pretty, and she knew it!

It was strange, we were still best friends, yet everyone thought we were dating. She summed up our relationship once.

“You’re the sister I never had!” she said, and that pleased me more than anyone could tell.

“You’d make a pretty girl,” she told me.
 
 
I had started to let my hair grow, ever since that first time dressing in her clothes. Unfortunately, by the time we were sixteen, I had grown a lot taller than Jessica. She was still five three, yet I was five seven. One of the best days of my life was when we went out shopping as ‘girls’ together.

As I couldn’t get into her clothes any more, she decided that I needed a new set of my own clothes. Her parents were out and I rarely went home these days. I wasn’t missed, so I virtually lived with Jessica and her parents.

So, dressed in a pair of jeans, trainers, a tee shirt and a bra stuffed with socks, she supervised my make up and helped me varnish my nails. We set off on the bus for the shopping centre.

She started calling me Leanne that day, and it stuck. An indescribable feeling of rightness welled over me whenever that name was directed towards me. I knew that part of me really was Leanne. I wanted all of me to be that person!

I was terribly self-conscious for the first hour, despite Jessica telling me that I looked fine, and no one would ever guess I wasn’t a girl.

We stopped for a bite to eat and a drink at a small café, and I settled down. One of the boys from school came over and sat at the table. His name was Mark, and he was a couple of years above us.

“Hi, you’re Jessica?” he said.

“Hi, and you’re Mark. You’re in the sixth form, aren’t you?” she said. I was closely inspecting my burger.

He turned and looked at me.

“Hi, I don’t know you, do I?” he said.

“This is my friend, Leanne. She’s from the other side of London, and is spending the day with me,” Jessica said.

I smiled and took a bite, thereby obviating the need to speak.

He grinned at me.

“Hi, Leanne. Shame you aren’t staying longer,” he said.

I went bright red, feeling incredibly pleased for some strange reason.

He stayed and chatted, oblivious to my deception. I even spoke to him and managed to laugh. It came out as a very nervous giggle, but I found myself relaxing as the time passed.

Mark left us and we went shopping.

We shopped for clothes, makeup and shoes. I had my ears pierced, as, fortunately, it was fashionable for boys to have studs as well in 1996. I felt extraordinarily free, for the first time in my life.

Jessica kept my clothes at her house, as I would spend as much time at her place as I could and, whenever I got the opportunity, Leanne would return.

“It’s so amazing the difference!” Jessica said.

“What difference?”

“The difference between Lee and Leanne. Leanne is so bubbly and happy, yet Lee is a miserable git!” she said laughing at me.

I smiled, a little sadly. She had hit the nail right on the head. She described me completely. I was happy only when as Leanne. No one ever guessed that the sad boy called Lee was the same as Leanne. We were careful not to go to places where we could anticipate people we knew would be.
 
 
When I had registered for GCSEs, I had simply written L.R. Roberts, and put my date of birth. So, when the results came out, they were in the name, L.R. Roberts, and as my initials were the same as Leanne’s, a plan started to formulate.

I had to register for sixth form, and as my grades at GCSE were good, I registered again as L.R. Roberts.

The school was a big one, so the staff members were not perhaps as vigilant as they could have been. It meant that my identity was sufficiently vague as to be interchangeable.

Relations with Frank deteriorated to such a level that my living at home became almost unbearable.

He kept telling me that as he had been in gainful employment at sixteen, I should shoulder responsibility and leave school and get a job. My mother, now looking after three children, was in no position to support me. There was no funding available for me to go to university, so I knew that I would have to get a job for a year before I could even think about university.

I don’t know when I decided I wanted to be a teacher, but I just did. I could never have faced being a secondary teacher, but the younger ones at primary level, were fine.

I struggled through two years of hell. Hell because I was male. Hell because my home life was exactly that, and hell because I rarely had any opportunity to be the person I knew I was.

Then came another crashing blow - Jessica found a real boyfriend, Simon Haddow. She was a normal girl and had normal feelings. We were still best friends, but she had less time for me.

As a result, I became introspective and very much a loner.

I found Internet sites that catered for people like me, whilst working part time at a local pub washing up and helping in the kitchen.

All my money went on clothes for Leanne and other items from certain websites. I had realistic silicone breast forms, hip hugging shape makers, and all manner of cross-dressing aids. I managed to acquire non-prescription hormones, to arrest any further masculine development. It was insufficient to instigate any profound visible changes, but it meant I had no facial hair, so kept a slim and androgynous figure. Who knows what it was doing to my insides?
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
The event that triggered my ejection from the family home was the arrival of my A level results in August 1998.

Two As and a B, in English, History and Maths. I was delighted, but I made the mistake in telling my drunken stepfather that this was enough to get me into teacher training college.

I arrived on my grandparents’ doorstep about half an hour later. They took me in and tut-tutted over the dreadful second marriage their daughter had made.

I was now without a home, with no job, no money and little hope of ever getting to university. I could get a loan, but I still had to live.

There was one brief respite. A group in my year, with whom I was reasonably friendly, decided to go to a nightclub called Badgers to celebrate our success in A levels. I was asked, even though it was hardly my scene. Jessica thought it would be fun, so I agreed to go too.

Badgers was in Potters Bar, in Hertfordshire, and was run by a man called Mike. He had black hair with s white streak down one side. He had been a policeman in London, and taken a machete to the side of his head. He had lived, obviously, but the nerve endings on his scalp caused this freak streak of hair. His colleagues called him ‘Badger’, so when he retired, he set up the nightclub, so the name was a natural.

The atmosphere was wonderful. I was mesmerised by the bar staff. They were all girls, wearing very short skirts and tight tee shirts that left little to the imagination. They had a routine going with the drinks that could have come from the movies. They would twirl bottles around, throwing them to each other as they mixed the most amazing cocktails.

We had a crazy night, and it was a lot of fun. I danced with all the girls, and even some of the guys, as the booze got the better of us. My longing was to be able to attend as Leanne, and I know Jessica saw that.

The girls behind the bar were a cabaret in their own right, so they did very well from tips. In a quiet moment, I asked one pretty girl how much they earned.

“Ten pounds an hour plus tips. I make around a hundred to one twenty quid a night, so I can afford my uni fees,” she said.

The local pubs paid about four fifty or five pounds an hour, so tips were unlikely.

I felt very envious of this attractive girl.

I returned home to a very quiet house and slipped to bed. I lay awake for a while, trying to imagine me working behind the bar at Badgers. Ah, well, one can but dream!

I loved my grandparents. Michael, my granddad was a lovely man, even though he kept hinting I ought to have my hair cut. Noreen was simply special, having been a surrogate mother to me over much of my life. Neither was in the best of health, so I knew I couldn’t stay with them for long.

My mother would call round, just to see if I was all right. Then she dropped a bombshell.

“Frank has managed to get a job in New Zealand. We have sold up and we are leaving in a week’s time,” she told me.

“Shit, this is a bit sudden.”

“Not really, it is something that we have planned for a long while. I hate Luton, and well, I want the kids to have a better chance.”

“Better than me, you mean?”

“Don’t be like that, we did our best.”

“Yeah, right!”

Then, they were gone.
 
 
I didn’t miss them at all. That made me very sad. Apparently, Mum had been persuaded by my grandparents to leave me behind, and to be honest, I was pleased.

I dropped round to see Jessica. She was delighted with her results too, as she wanted to study dramatic arts at drama college. She was still seeing Simon, who on a couple of occasions had told me that he wasn’t happy with my relationship with ‘his’ girlfriend.

“What will you do?” she asked.

I shrugged. I really didn’t know.

“I’m going to Australia for six months, my uncle lives out there. He has his own business in Sydney and I am going to work for him. Then I shall come back through America. We’ve got some cousins in California, and then I can try to work as I go across country. My Dad is willing to pay my first year, as long as I make enough to start off.”

I felt incredibly jealous. I couldn’t afford a train ticket to Scotland, let alone a plane ticket to Australia.

She sensed my feeling.

“Why don’t you get a job, then come and meet me in America. We could travel and work together. It’d be fun.”

“What about Simon?”

She laughed.

“Simon starts at Birmingham University in September. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to get a job just to get enough money for the fare to the States, let alone for my first year at uni!”

We agreed to keep in touch. I took all Leanne’s clothes and makeup away with me. I would miss Jessica dreadfully. In the event, Simon saw her off at Heathrow with her parents. I wasn’t even allowed to do that. I was very depressed.

The pub job paid  £4 an hour. I gave  £25 a week to my grandmother, so I wasn’t left an awful lot to save.
 
 
One evening, I had just got back from the pub. I was very tired, and my grandparents were already in bed. I lay on my bed and just tried to focus my life on something.

I was being paid a pitiful amount, so even if I worked every day from now through to the following September, I should barely have enough to live on for the first year. I would have to keep working just to live.

I would have to get a new job that paid more, as I dearly wanted to be able to go to America to join Jessica.

Tired as I was, sleep was just not coming, so I dug around for some videos to watch.

I watched a video of the movie Cocktail, staring Tom Cruise. Now that appealed to me. I fancied the showmanship of these cocktail barmen. They reminded me of the girls at Badgers. Then I watched Coyote Ugly, and felt that yearning to be Leanne again. I dressed and lay watching the movie as a girl. I eventually slept, dressed as a girl, with tears in my eyes.

Every spare moment I’d practice moves from the movie. I was surprised the tape didn’t wear out with all the replaying I put it through. With my duvet on the floor, I still managed to break scores of empty bottles. Eventually, I thought I was doing okay. I began using bottles with some water in them, to get the balance right. My breakages became less and less, so I varied the level of contents until I had a routine just right.

There wasn’t any opportunity to show off my skills in the Duke of York. It was a bog standard pie and a pint pub, and pint tankards are not conducive to spectacular juggling.

The pub was closing down for refurbishment and I was ‘let go’. I was now about as low as I had ever been. For the first time, taking my own life entered my head. It didn’t stay long, as I was reluctant to allow anyone the satisfaction of gloating over my death. The fact that only my grandparents would be upset, and perhaps Jessica, made me sad, but made me determined to do something with my life.
 
 
When one is at the bottom of the shit heap, the only way out is up. I had nothing to lose anymore, so when the mail arrived the following morning, I made some bold decisions.

I received notification, addressed to L.R. Roberts, to attend an interview at De Montfort University, Teacher Training College, in Bedford.

I suddenly had an idea, so, having nothing to lose, decided to attend as Leanne. I wasn’t making a go as Lee, so as I had all the documents, I thought I could make it work.

I was shaking like a leaf as I left my grandparents’ home with a small case. I had used the adhesive to stick the breast forms onto my chest, and was already wearing girl’s underwear, including the shape forming pants.

I went to the bus station and popped into the ladies loo, which was empty at the time. I slipped into a cubicle and took off my shapeless trousers and baggy top. I then changed into a skirt and blouse. I put my chunky boots into the case with the rest of the Lee stuff, slipping on a pair of high heel shoes.

I left the cubicle and did my makeup in the mirror. I brushed out my hair and replaced my plain ear studs with large hoops. I smiled as the reflection showed me as I saw myself. Several women entered and cast me casual glances. I received no shocking stares or any signs that I was anything other than what I appeared.

I took the case to the left luggage office and left it there. I then caught the bus to Bedford, keeping only my shoulder bag and a small document case. I had the birth certificate and National Insurance cards in the name of Leanne Roberts, together with all my exam certificates in the name of L.R. Roberts.

I took the opportunity to varnish my nails on the journey. The bus filled up, and after one stop, a large guy sat in the seat next to me. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. His hair was quite short and he had a nice smile.

“Hi, going to Bedford?” he said, once the bus started off again.

“Yup. Interview at uni.”

“Me too. Not De Montfort?”

I smiled.

“Yes, as it happens.”

“I’m Adam. I hope to be a PE teacher.”

“Leanne Roberts, possible Primary School teacher.”

He held out his hand.

I waved my wet nails and he grinned.

“Nice to meet you, Leanne. On your own?”

“Oh yes. There’s just me,” I said, a little wistfully.

“My folks are in Australia. I wanted to stay out there, but they thought that I should at least get my qualifications over here. I’m supposed to be living with my Aunt in Borehamwood, but spend most of my time with my mate Josh.”

“My dad is dead, so I moved out. I don’t get on with my stepfather, besides they’ve buggered off to a new life in New Zealand. I got left behind as I’m eighteen.”

“Tough break, so we’re two abandoned waifs,” he said with a grin.

I shrugged.

“Yeah, but I am doing what I want to do.”
 
 
We chatted away for the rest of the journey and I felt really great. I hated deceiving him, but thought that I was actually being true to me. He gave me no indication that he thought I was anything other than a girl. We arrived and made our way to the University. It was rather a scruffy campus; with lots of 1960s concrete and rather drab, more recent buildings.

We all went to our respective subject rooms, to speak to the heads of department. I noticed that there were a lot more girls than boys in the Primary Education B.Ed course. Of the one hundred and fifty, only sixteen were male.

We all met up in the main dining area, where I noticed that most of the others all had their mothers and fathers with them. One guy was alone and was sitting at a table by himself. It was Adam.

I sat next to him.

He grinned at me.

“Hi stranger,” he said, and I felt warmed by his smile.

“Hi.”

“Are you in halls, or what?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t really know. I don’t know whether I’ve been accepted yet. They accepted me in principal, but as you know, this interview is the clincher. Why, are you in halls?”

“Nah. Halls are rough here. It’s a really naff tower block. My mate was here last year and he told me to avoid the halls at all cost. I want to get somewhere outside, if I can find another couple of people, and share a house.”

I hadn’t really thought about accommodation. I just wanted to get a place.

“Hey, I know we’ve only just met, but how do you fancy sharing a house?”

I was torn.

On the one hand, Halls would be sufficiently anonymous for me to disappear. Yet sharing with some nice people would be so much more fun. I was terrified of being found out!

“Yeah, that’d be okay,” I said, guardedly.

“Great! Now all we have to do is find someone else. Would you rather share with another girl or a guy?”

“I don’t mind,” I told him.

We were split up again as we were interviewed. I was shown into a small room and the senior tutor sat there.

Mrs Reynolds was very nice. She relaxed me by talking about everything else but me. She asked about my studies and obviously knew my results of A levels and GCSEs.

“Why do you want to be a teacher?”

“Because I experienced so many bad teachers, I want to help kids learn. School can be so miserable for young children, so I want to make it fun for them.”

She frowned and looked at my report from the school. I’d spent some time changing the gender pronouns, but it seems I missed a couple.

“Leanne, this report refers to you as Lee, and uses the ‘he’ pronoun on one occasion. Why is that?”

“I don’t know. There was a Lee Roberts in my year, but he never passed any exams. He left before the end of the year. Maybe the teachers were confused? There were a lot of us, and I suppose they had to write loads of reports.”

I passed over my birth certificate and the ambiguous exam certificates.

She looked at them.

“Well, you don’t look like a girl that anyone could mistake for a boy!” she said, making me blush very red.

My heart was racing, and I was bitterly regretting my deception. To my relief and surprise, she dropped the subject, even altering the two offending ‘he’s, then she smiled and asked some more questions. Finally, she ended up with the one question I had expected.

“What makes you think you’d be a good teacher?”

“I’m bright and know my stuff. I am patient and want to help others. Teaching isn’t about giving others your knowledge, it’s about getting along side them and helping them learn, from whatever source they have available. Life has so much to give, if only they can open their eyes to it.”

She stared at me for so long, for an awful moment I thought she’d seen through my masquerade.

“Then, Leanne, you are certainly one person I want on this course. Congratulations,” she said, smiling.

I was in!
 
 
I then had to state whether I would take this coming course or the one starting in the year following.

“I can’t afford to start this semester. I will have to get a job so I can come in a year’s time.”

“Good. A year out can be a wonderful learning experience, if you allow it to be. You must do something unusual, and something that is of value to your life. You will never get another opportunity to have a year where you have your youth and time on your side, with no responsibility and few financial burdens!”

I went back to the dining hall and found Adam. He was smiling too, so I guessed he had also been successful.

“So, when do you start?” he asked.

“Next autumn. I have to take a year out first. I haven’t enough money to live off.”

“Come on, let’s go to the accommodation office. I’m taking a year out too, so we can put our names down for a house,” he said, grabbing my arm.

I let him pull me along the corridors, until we found ourselves with many others at the accommodation office.

There was a small two bedroom flat about half a mile from campus that was shown as being free from the end of the 1998-1999 semester. There were two students there at present, but they were about to enter their final year.

The accommodation officer told us to put our names down, and the landlord would contact us in June 1999 for contracts.

“Put your aunt’s address down as a contact point. I don’t know where I’ll be,” I said, which Adam was happy to do. Once he had done that, I went to the loans and finance office and completed my application for a student loan for the first year starting in 1999.

The day was over. I felt a sort of anti-climax.

I was left watching everyone getting into their cars and going home. I had no real home to go to. My Lee persona was lying in a left luggage locker in Luton and for all I cared it could stay there.

“Hey, Leanne. What are you going to do now?” Adam asked, making me jump.

“I thought you’d gone.”

“Nah, I was just checking out some local sports clubs. I need to keep fit while I’m here.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose I’d better be getting back.”

“Where to?”

“My grandparents. They live on the outskirts of Luton.”

“You don’t sound too keen.”

“I’m not. The truth is, I’d rather go anywhere rather than back to Luton.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I heard that parts of Luton are a bit shitty!”

I smiled, as I couldn’t disagree.

“I’m dossing down at Josh’s house in Enfield, North London. I don’t expect they’d mind if you came for a couple of nights. But it won’t be permanent, I’m afraid.”

I really didn’t know what to do. The university had accepted me as a girl. He accepted me as a girl, and as far as I was concerned, I never wanted to go back to being a boy.

The problem was, I was a boy. Physically at least, and I couldn’t escape that fact.

“Thanks, but I’d better get back to Luton. Then I have really got to find a job.”

“Okay. Look, if you want, give me a call if ever you want to get together.” He gave me his aunt’s address and number, as well as Josh’s home details.

I smiled. “Okay, that’d be nice.”

We went to the bus station, but caught different busses. He had been visiting another mate on the previous journey, so was going back a different way.

He surprised me by kissing me as we said goodbye.
 
 
I felt rather melancholy on the journey back. The bus was half empty, so no one sat next to me. For that I was grateful. I collected my case, deciding not to change back. I no longer cared who knew what I was.

Then I thought about it a little deeper.

Yes, I did care. I didn’t want to deliberately cause hurt to anyone, least of all my grandparents.

It was dark when I walked back to their house, still as Leanne. I prepared myself to tell them the truth. I was ready to be thrown out again. I had had enough of hiding. Leanne was here, and I was so reluctant to go back to being Lee.

So, in a skirt and blouse, made up and with bright red nails, I opened the front door to the house.

It was empty and in pitch darkness. There was no one home. There were no notes, nothing!

This was not just unusual - it was unheard of! I had said goodbye to them earlier and Grandma had wished me good luck. I frowned, and went into the kitchen. There weren’t even signs that they’d had dinner. I checked the fridge. Grandma told me that they were having steak and kidney pie for supper, and they’d leave me some for when I got in.

The steak and kidney was still uncooked in the plastic bag in the fridge.

I was wondering where they could be when the doorbell rang. I walked down the hall and opened the door.

A young police constable stood there, his hat in his hands.

“Yes?”

“Um, excuse me, I’m looking for, um, a Lee Roberts,” he said.

“I’m Leanne Roberts. People often get my name wrong,” I said.

“What is your relationship to Michael and Noreen Bannister, Miss Roberts?”

“They’re my grandparents; I live here with them, why? Has something happened?”

“May I come in?” he asked, with a strange expression on his face. My heart sank.

“Look, I’d prefer if you just told me.”

“There’s been an accident, Miss Roberts. Mr Bannister was driving, and he suffered some attack. A stroke, the doctors think. Anyway, he hit an oncoming vehicle, and I’m afraid to say both were killed outright.”
 
 
I was stunned. I turned, walked into the sitting room and sat down. The officer followed, closing the front door.

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“No, it was a truck. The driver is in shock, but no injuries.”

I was stunned, as they were the only people who I really cared about in the world. It was like losing part of myself. They were my only link with the past. However, another part of me felt as if I had just been set free. Grandpa had told me that they were leaving me the house in the will. They had disagreed with mum about leaving for New Zealand, as they thought they’d never see their other grandchildren again.

As it happened, they were right.

The tears started then. I don’t know whether they were tears of grief, relief or shock, perhaps all three.

“Are you all right?”

I stared at the policeman. I had forgotten about him.

“Fine. No, I feel like shit, actually. I’ve just come back from an interview in which I was accepted at teacher training college, and come back to this. How the hell should I feel?”

He shrugged, looking even younger. I guessed he was only a couple of years older than me.

“Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“I haven’t got anyone. Not any more.”

“Um, there was mention of a daughter?”

“My mother. She’s gone to live in New Zealand.”

“Can we contact her?”

I shook my head, wiping my eyes, conscious that my makeup was probably running. I went over to the desk. Mum’s address and phone number was there in grandpa’s neat little book.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

He nodded, but I sensed there was something else.

“Yes?”

“Um, I’m sorry, but we need to make a formal identification.”

“Now?”

“If possible, yes.”

“Can I call my mother?”

“Sure, I’ll be in the car.”

He left me alone while I called New Zealand. I stared at the reflection in the window of the tall attractive girl standing with a telephone next to her ear. Her auburn hair cascading to her shoulder, with her earrings reflecting the lights.

I prayed that Frank wouldn’t answer.

“Hello?”

It was my mother. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hi Mum.”

“Lee?”

“Mum, Grandma and Grandpa are dead. They were in an accident. Grandpa had a stroke at the wheel and hit an oncoming truck.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

I heard her sobbing quietly.

I let her cry. I didn’t feel strong enough to offer any words that could help.

“Is there anything for me to do?” she asked, at last.

“No. I’ve got to do the formal identification bit. Then there is the funeral. Are you coming back?”

“We haven’t got the money for another flight. Frank is working hard, but with the mortgage and everything, there just isn’t the cash.”

“So, it’s down to me?”

“Oh sweetie, I’d help if I could,” she whined.

“They were your parents!” I said.

“I can’t, I just can’t! First there was Leanne, then your father. I just can’t do it again.”

I felt the anger rise.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Bye mum, I don’t think we’ll talk again.” I hung up.
 
 
I went into the hall and brushed my hair using the mirror there. I repaired my makeup and went out, locking the front door. I felt suddenly very grown up, but also very vulnerable.

The policeman opened the passenger door and I got into the police car. He wasn’t chatty, as I sensed he was embarrassed and unsure of what to say. I sat quietly in the darkness and looked out of the window at the passing scenery. The police radio was burbling away in the background, but I hadn’t developed the ear for it, so it made no sense at all. I was numb as to what to feel. I half expected to wake up and find it was all a dream.

They had cleaned them up. Both looked asleep and, with the exception of a big gash across grandma’s face, they looked remarkably normal.

“Those are my grandparents, Michael and Noreen Bannister,” I said.

They gave me a big jiffy bag with their personal effects, for which I had to sign.

“What happens now?” I asked.

“There may be a post mortem, and then the bodies will be released for burial,” the officer told me.

“Okay, do I have to arrange an undertakers, or what?”

He smiled, trying to put a human face on a horrible situation.

“We can give you a list of undertakers, and you just call one and they will do the rest.”

I nodded and he handed me a card with a list of local undertakers.

He drove me back home and dropped me off.

“I’m PC Andy Stevens. If you need to ask any questions, then give me a call.”

He handed me his card and I smiled.

“Thanks, you’ve been very kind.”

He shook his head.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve had to bring you bad news, but there is nothing I can really do to make you feel better. I hate seeing a pretty girl look so lost and lonely.”

I stared at him.

He looked sheepish.

“Sorry, I’m out of order, but sometimes, I really hate this job. Congratulations on getting into college, anyway.”

I kissed him on his cheek. He had made me feel like a girl, just when I really needed it.

He left me alone, so I went in and closed the front door.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 1
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
Lee and Leanne were twins, but as a young baby, Leanne dies, leaving her twin with the firm belief that part of her remained with him for always.

As Lee grew in an unhappy home, struggling with a gender identity problem, events occurred that enabled Leanne to come alive again, in more ways than one.

Leanne got a job in a classy cocktail bar, called Badger's, that turned away hundreds for every one that was accepted.

She was a unique girl...

in more ways than one!

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: Badger's Set  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
The funeral was a dismal affair. I was dressed ambiguously, but wore female attire underneath a dark shirt, black trousers and a black leather coat. I wore no jewellery or makeup, and was one of only six people who turned up. I didn’t know many of them.

The family solicitor called and I went for a meeting with him. They had left an estate comprising of the house and about  £60,000 in savings. The house was worth about  £120,000, so that meant that inheritance tax was not a problem.

“Your half brother and sisters receive  £15,000 each, held in trust until they reach the age of twenty one. Your mother gets your grandmother’s jewellery, and you get the house and contents. Is your mother returning to the UK?”

“I doubt it,” I said, and he nodded.

“Then if you bring the jewellery into the office, I will arrange it to be sent to her. As for the house, I have the deeds here. I will arrange transfer of name.

“Mr Cowper, can you simply leave my name as L.R Roberts. No mister, or first names?”

He frowned.

“May I ask why?”

This was it, - the moment of truth. I needed to tell someone, and I was intelligent enough to realise that I may need legal advice at some point in the future.

“Mr Cowper, the truth is that I’m a transsexual. I hope to undergo a sex change in the next couple of years, I think that it might make things simpler.”

He stared at me.

I felt uncomfortable. I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

“That should be no problem. What names are you planning to use?”

“Leanne Rachel.”

He nodded, and smiled slightly.

“That explains a lot,” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“When you first walked in, even though you are not dressed as a girl, I actually thought you were a girl. Even your voice is feminine. I take it you are already on hormones?”

“A low dose, yes.”

“Don’t worry. A dear friend of my wife’s went through this a few years ago. No one could ever tell now, and she is very happy indeed. She is still living with her ex-wife, so it is all very strange.”

I smiled, nervous, but relieved to have finally told someone.
 
 
I went back to my house and stripped off the clothes I was wearing. I put on a skirt and top, and started to clear out everything that I didn’t want.

It was a long job and it took me a week. I lived as Leanne for the whole time, and began to realise that I felt so much better. I can’t really explain it, but it was as if I was suddenly freed to be the person I should always have been.

To go shopping, even for essentials like toilet rolls and food, was a whole, new wonderful experience. After my initial worries that I would be outed, I became confident and relaxed completely. People called me ‘Miss’ or ‘love’, and I settled down as Leanne.

I took the jewellery into the lawyer, having retained one very pretty diamond ring first. It had been grandma’s engagement ring, and she had it on when she died. I planned telling anyone that I forgot it, as it was in the envelope. I slipped it onto my left ring finger, wondering what it would be like being engaged to a boy.

I immediately thought of Adam.

I wondered what he was doing. I rang Josh’s number he had given me. Someone else answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak to Adam please?”

“Um, he’s not here right now. Who’s after him?”

“Can you tell him that Leanne called. Do you know where he is?”

“Ah, so you’re the mysterious Leanne? I’m Josh, his mate. He went on and on about this great girl he met at Bedford. He’s up in London somewhere with the gang. I was working, so couldn’t go. They should be back later, but I doubt whether they’ll be in any fit state.”

“Can you tell him my grandparents died and, well, just tell him that. Okay?”

“Sure, look, are you okay?”

“Not really, but, hey, shit happens, right?”

He laughed, not through the humour of life, but through the realities.

“Yeah, I suppose. Look, Leanne, do you want to come and wait here for him? You are more than welcome.”

“No thanks. He has my address and phone number. I’d like to hear from him at some point. G’bye.”

I suddenly felt very lonely. I had called my only friend. Jessica was half way round the world, so my only friend was someone I had met once. Now was that sad or what?

I made a decision and picked up the phone again, calling the doctors’ surgery. I’d selected this one because they were listed on a TG website, so they were sympathetic to those wanting to transition.
 
 
Two hours later I was called into see Dr Michaels.

He frowned as he saw me. He looked at my notes and then at me. I was wearing a dress, high heel shoes and makeup, feeling very comfortable in my female persona.

“There seems to be some mistake, Miss. I have notes for a Lee Roberts.”

“I am Lee Roberts. Only I use the name Leanne, now.”

“Ah. That explains the reason for the appointment.”

He smiled and invited me to sit down.

I went through everything, including the hormones I had acquired through the Internet. He was non-judgemental, very kind, but quite clear about what I had done.

“That is potentially very dangerous,” he said. “One can never be sure of what one is buying or the damage it could do.”

“I appreciate that. But I had to do something.”

He was surprisingly sympathetic, and gave me a very thorough examination. He smiled slightly as he saw the breast forms firmly attached to my chest, and the shape form knickers.

Once dressed again and seated opposite him, he looked straight into my eyes and smiled.

“Leanne, I have to be honest. The hormones you have taken have indeed arrested your masculine development. They probably have also chemically castrated you. When was the last time you had an erection?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.”

“How about ejaculation?”

“The same.”

“Any discomfort or seepage?”

“No.”

“Any pains anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Okay. I am going to change your prescription. The hormones I will put you on will start physical changes quite quickly. You will begin to develop breasts and fat deposits will start accumulating on your hips. You are very slender, so I advise you to keep to a healthy diet, and to take regular exercise. Hormones can induce an increase in weight if you are not very careful.

“They will also continue to block any masculine development, but actually, I don’t believe you are capable of much. One thing, you may find sudden mood swings with these pills. Just as if you were a genetic female with a menstrual cycle, so don’t get too worried. If they get too extreme, then come back and see me. I am referring you to a psychologist, as there have to be certain conditions before we begin to look at surgical options.”

I smiled, and he shook his head.

“Leanne, this path is irreversible. It isn’t something to be entered into lightly. We all need to be sure that this is right.”

“I’m sure. I’ve been sure since I was about six or seven. Only I never really understood what was the matter with me,” I told him.

“There are ways of bypassing the system, but I don’t necessarily recommend them.”

“You mean, by going private?” I asked, and he nodded.

“There are various options, both here and overseas, that offer complete SRS. However, I would not recommend them at this stage.”

“I’m about to go to university, I can’t afford the  £50,000 for that.”

“I understand. But perhaps you may wish to think about minor surgery, just to make things easier.”

“Like what?”

“Some transsexuals elect minor cosmetic surgery on the face and neck. Most elect some breast enhancement and, for example, if the nose is a little large, some cosmetic surgery there. However, you are sufficiently feminine not to worry about that.”

“Is my nose too big?” I asked, concerned now.

He smiled.

“I was speaking generally. The surgeon I am referring you to works both for the NHS and privately. I understand your financial constraints, so recommend you talk to him with an open mind and with his NHS hat on. He will advise you on what would be appropriate, so don’t be afraid to ask for what you think you need to be a happy and more secure person. Don’t mention to the psychologist that private treatment is even a whisper, as they can become difficult if you force the pace in any way. You need an assessment before any surgery can take place.”
 
 
I left the doctor feeling much better. I went straight round to the chemist and waited for them to make up the prescription. The girl behind the counter gave me some funny looks, and I kept examining my nose in the mirror next to the makeup counter.

I couldn’t wait to get home, so I could start the hormones. I stared at myself, willing my breasts to grow.

I piled the black bags containing all my grandparent’s clothes by the front door. The doorbell rang and I opened it expecting the collector for the charity I had called.

It was Adam.

“Hi,” he said.

“You!”

“I was the last time I looked.”

I flung my arms round his neck and hugged him, bursting into tears.

“Hey, shit, Leanne, are you okay?” he said, obviously a little surprised at my welcome.

“No, I’m fucking well not. I’m so fucking miserable and alone that I need someone!” I heard myself say through the sobs.

He took me indoors and sat me on the sofa.

“Hey, come on Leanne. It’s okay now. Really, it’s okay.”

The doorbell rang again.

“The black bags, they’re here for the black bags,” I said.

“Okay, stay here, I’ll deal with it.”

I sat there, trying to compose myself. Why did I react like this? I felt so stupid and weak. What must he think of me?

He came back in and looked down at me. I looked up and saw such a tender expression on his face that I almost started crying again.

He sat next to me, putting one arm across my shoulders.

“Okay, tell me about it?”

I did. It all poured out, or most of it. I couldn’t tell him I was a boy, could I? I told him about the deaths, my mother, Frank, and everything else that caused me grief, except the one thing that really mattered. I wanted to tell him, really I did!

I finished and felt empty. I was snuggled under his arm, sniffling.

He kissed my forehead.

“Better?”

Strangely enough, I did feel a bit better.

I nodded.

“Good, now go upstairs, wash your face, do what you girls do to make yourself look desirable. I’m taking you out for a meal, okay?”

I nodded and went up and washed the streaky makeup off my face. I locked the hormones away in my bedside drawer. I felt much better as I reapplied my make up.

He took me to a Pizza Hut. Not the most romantic venue, but just what the doctor ordered. We stayed for ages, just chatting and eating too much. We were both drinking beer from the bottle, and for the first time I found myself relating to someone other than Jessica.

He held my hand on the bus back to the house, and I suddenly started to panic. What if he wanted to go further and discovered my secret?
 
 
I was shaking when I unlocked the front door, and he noticed.

“Leanne, are you okay, love?”

I nodded, as I was unsure of my voice.

“Are you sure, you look a bit pale to me?”

I almost started to cry again, and wondered what was wrong with me. I remembered the doctor telling me about mood swings. They shouldn’t be happening this quick, could they?

“I’m fine. Just women’s problems,” I said.

“Ah!” he said, smiling sympathetically in the way men do, when they don’t actually want any more information.

We sat in the kitchen and drank some tea. I felt safe with him here, even though I didn’t really know anything about him.

“When Josh told me you’d called and that your grandparents had died, I almost came up then at there. But it was two in the morning and I was as pissed as a ferret. I didn’t think you appreciate a drunken ferret at that time of the morning!”

I smiled. “Thanks for coming. I do feel so much better now.”

“Would you mind if I stayed a while? I don’t want to leave you alone just yet.”

I had moved into the big bedroom, so my old room was free. I showed him where it was.

“Thanks Adam. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“De nada. I was missing you anyway.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I fancied you from the moment I saw you.”

I laughed and he smiled.

“Hey, I’m not joking, okay. Just get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, kissing me on the lips.

He went to his room and closed the door.

I went to my room and changed into my nightdress. I had systematically removed everything in the house with any reference to Lee, or photographs with Lee in them. I was panicking in case he found something I had missed.

I went to sleep thinking of the kiss.
 
 
Something was tickling my foot.

I moved my foot, yet the tickling continued. Reluctantly, I opened an eye.

Adam was sitting on my bed, and tickling me with some part of a dried flower arrangement that was in the hall.

I immediately was awake. Then I remembered I had kept my knickers on, just in case.

“Morning,” he said, kissing me as if there was something between us.

I lay there, disbelieving that a hunky guy was kissing me. He could have any girl, yet he was here in my bedroom!

I felt a very strange feeling start deep down inside me, and it sort of spread outwards, giving me a tingly sensation all over.

I wrapped an arm round his neck, and returned the kiss as if it was the only one I was ever going to get.

Bladder pressure reminded me to stop before an accident happened.

I broke off, slightly breathless.

“Um, need a pee and, you know, women’s stuff,” I said. He grinned and let me get out of bed.

I locked the bathroom door. My heart was pounding, yet I knew something strange happened to me. I took my knickers down and sat on the loo. The despised worm and his friends were so small and yet they were so huge a problem that I hated them so much. If I thought it would help, I’d have cut them off with a pair of scissors, there and then.

I had a shower, washing my hair. I wrapped a towel around my synthetic breasts and another around my hair. I left the bathroom, and smelled frying bacon emanating from the kitchen.

The knickers I wore, were specially ordered form a specialist store. They kept all bulges out of sight, discreetly adding to my feminine shape, by increasing the shape of my hips and bum. I could wear any clothes, or even a swimsuit and no one could tell I wasn’t the real thing.

I dressed in a short skirt and pretty top. It was quite a nice day, so I wanted to feel and look as feminine as I could. I took my hormones, and desperately wanted to get rid of the synthetic boobs. I wanted my own!

I went downstairs and found Adam cooking a fat boy’s breakfast.

I went straight up to him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, as he stood at the stove. It was weird, as Lee I’d never consider touching another boy, but as Leanne, it seemed not only natural, but wonderful!

He was bigger than me, I guess six two at least. I was still under five ten with three-inch heels, so I felt small and vulnerable next to him.

He turned and drew me close to him. I looked up into his eyes as he smiled.

“Better?”

“Mmm,” I said, and he kissed me again.

The kiss went on and on, and he grasped both cheeks of my bum, pulling me close to him. I could feel his erection pressing against my tummy, and it felt so good. The fact I could turn a man on meant so much to me. I hated deceiving him, and the guilt make me break off the kiss. I almost told him then. I was too much a coward, because I suspected he’d throw a wobbly and I’d risk losing him completely. I actually needed him at this moment, so was content to maintain my deceit.

“That smells nice,” I said.

He still grasped my bum.

“You smell better!”

“Adam, no. Not yet, please.”

He smiled and let me go.

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re just so gorgeous, I can’t help myself.”

The guilt returned, so I had to turn away.

“Leanne? What did I say?”

“Oh Adam, It’s not you. It’s me,” I said and sat down. Tears were so close, yet still I could not bring myself to tell him.

“Oh!” he said, and smiling.

I frowned, as clearly he had an idea as to what was wrong. I had alluded to having a period, so I guessed that is what he thought was making me weird.
 
 
He dished up breakfast, and I ate a lot. I hadn’t been bothered about food recently, so had lost quite a bit of weight over recent weeks.

“So, what’s happening to this place?” he asked.

“The house? I haven’t decided yet. It’s mine, so I can keep it, let it or sell it. It’s all I have in the world, so I don’t want to squander it away.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Around the hundred thousand mark, I think.”

He got a crafty look in his eye.

“What?” I asked.

“Why don’t you sell it? You could buy a place in Bedford, let it for your year out and recoup some funds, and then we could move in next September, ready for our courses.”

“Where would I stay?”

“With me in Borehamwood. My aunt is a lonely spinster and wants to rent out her spare rooms. I pay her thirty quid a week, so you could do the same. Then I could see a lot more of you.”

I smiled, now I saw his rationale behind the suggestion.

I was in great danger. I knew that he would soon expect us to have a regular boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, and all that that entailed. I wasn’t ready for the physical side, for obvious reasons. I liked him. I liked him a lot, and felt all fuzzy when he simply looked at me. But, it wasn’t fair to him, so I was caught in a terrible dilemma.

The house idea was good, but I didn’t want to move into a situation where I would be in danger of exposure. I cursed the day I actually thought I’d get away with this silly deception.

“I’ll think about it. I might get more for renting this one, and then buy one in Bedford next year.”

“The way house prices are going up, Bedford is more expensive than here, so don’t leave it too long.”
 
 
He stayed with me for a few days, but despite my determination to keep things cool and not get too physical, we drifted into a kissing relationship.

I sensed he wanted to go further, but my emotional state was rather unpredictable, for a myriad of reasons, so he was very controlled.

We finished sorting the contents of the house. I may be a home-owner, but I had no cash whatsoever, so I needed to get a job as a matter of urgency.

He was in the same boat, so he disappeared to look for one nearer Borehamwood, leaving me alone again. My savings were down to less than one hundred pounds, so I was getting desperate.

I went to the job centre and browsed for a while. The pay for school leavers for short-term jobs was pretty awful, so I became more depressed.

Then I saw it.
 
 

 
 
I wrote down the number and went over to the phone bank. I called the number. I spoke to a girl, who, by the tone of her voice, had been fielding calls from hopefuls for some time. She gave me a time for an interview that very afternoon, also telling me to wear something I thought a Badger Girl would wear. I smiled, that was something I could do!
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
Mike Harrison was around fifty, but looked younger. His hair was still streaked, but as the dark hair was going grey, he looked rather like an older badger now.

He was a big man, and every inch an ex-copper. His face smiled, but his eyes missed nothing, always seeking the out of place and the wrong. I thought he’d seen through my deception, but he said nothing.

I dressed in a short dark skirt, a tight black tee shirt, which accentuated my phoney boobs, making their nipples protrude through the thin material. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so hoped and prayed that the adhesive would hold!

It should do, as it was the extra strong variety, and was supposed to last for weeks at a time. I took them off every two weeks for a wash and to allow my skin to breathe for a couple of days. For one week, I’d wear them loose in the bra. I’d have to review this if I got the job here.
 
 
The club was closed, so a few cleaners were vacuuming and generally getting the place smart for the coming evening. Mike interviewed me in the bar, where we sat in a plush booth, not far from where we had sat on my only other visit.

“Have you any bar experience, Leanne?”

“I’ve worked in a couple of pubs. The first one before I was eighteen in the kitchens, and latterly behind the bar.”

“Okay, how about cocktails and the other specials that Badgers is so famous for?”

“I have been practicing a few moves. I haven’t really had a chance to try them out for real,” I admitted.

He stood up, and beaconed for me to go to the bar.

“Show me!”

I was very nervous.

He asked me for a Screaming Orgasm, A Slow Screw Against The Wall, a Harvey Wallbanger, and several other exotic mixes. I knew all but two. I found out they were house specials, so the recipes were kept quite confidential.

“If you knew them, then I’d know one of the girls had told you. I’d sack her if I ever found out who she was,” he told me.

He then asked me to show me some of the more active skills I had been practicing. I managed to pour three bottles in one hand at once. Throw three bottles in the air, catch them behind my back, and one or two other Tom Cruise specials from the film.

Mike nodded and grinned.

“I’m impressed. When can you start?”

I grinned. “Now?”

He laughed. “Okay, that suits me. See you at six this evening. I’ll put you with Kathy for the first week, so she’ll show you the ropes. I think you’ll do fine here.”

I grinned, and then a thought occurred to me.

“Mr Harrison?”

“Call me Mike, please Leanne.”

“Mike, don’t you get into trouble not employing males?”

He smiled again.

“I do employ males, but not behind the bars. You see, the majority of people who come here and spend money are men. The women who come here are usually brought by boyfriends or husbands, but not always. Men buy most drinks at the bar, as they like seeing pretty girls serving them in a different way. The floorshows we put on cater for both men and women audiences and, as a girl, you know how intimidating buying a drink at a bar can be. My market research is that women prefer being served by girls at the bar, as they feel less intimidated, except some older women, who like the boys. But then their tastes are catered for in some of the shows we put on, and the waiters are always available at the tables. The women do like waiters at the tables, just as the men like waitresses.”

“The bar staff are a show in their own right, so you know just how tricky some of the stunts are that you have already mastered. As a private club, we reserve the right to employ people in the capacity that we feel most appropriate. If we were an ordinary licensed premises, then we might face discriminatory problems, but so far we are fine. No one has complained, as our adverts are not gender specific.”

I smiled, knowing that they now employed one boy behind the bar!
 
 
I was able to hang around the club for the afternoon. I was given a locker in the girls’ rest room and, as the other girls started arriving, I was introduced to Kathy.

Kathy was the girl I had met that night when I had come as Lee. She was the girl who had told me how much she had earned, so I was afraid she would recognise me.

I needn’t have worried, she didn’t.

She was a slim and vivacious girl with blonde hair. I had always wanted to be a blonde, but she immediately raved about my hair colour.

“Oh, I love your hair, it goes so well with your tanned complexion, that auburn has such super natural highlights, is it natural?”

I blushed and admitted that it was.

“Cool! My skin is a real pain. I burn as soon as the sun comes out, and the hair frizzes as soon as it gets wet,” she said, and we were on the road to becoming friends immediately.
 
 
She showed me where we were to be working. There were three bars, one on each floor. We were working the ground floor bar. It was known as the Starter Bar by the girls, as it was where we all started off, and accordingly the tips were slightly less than in the other two.

Only the best worked in the top bar, and four girls worked each bar at any one time. We worked in pairs, and often the pairs stayed matched for some weeks, so routines and special tricks could be perfected. Mike liked us to change round, so we could all work with different partners. Thereby broadening the skills base, and making for a more professional team.

“So Leanne, why Badgers?”

“It’s a cool place, the pay is better than the pub I used to work in, and I just like the atmosphere. Why did you come here?” I replied.

“The pay! I can now afford to live well at university,” Kathy told me.

“Which one are you at?”

“Hertford Uni, at Hatfield. Reading Business studies and French.”

“Wow, what do you hope to do?”

“I don’t know. I think I’d like to do something in Europe, so the language is important, as is a good grounding in business. How about you?”

“I want to be a Primary School teacher.”

“No shit?” she said, staring at me.

“Sorry, but yup.”

“Bloody hell. I wish my teachers had been like you!”

We grinned, and she started showing me what was expected. She asked me what I already could do, and was quite surprised at the few tricks I had mastered.

“That’s cool. I’ve had two new girls, and had to teach them from scratch. You’re a good way down the line already. We’ll spend a good hour each day before opening getting our routines sorted.”

“What about breakages?”

“If you look, all the bottles we use are kept at about a quarter full. That way we lose only a little if we fuck up. The mark up on booze here is such that we can afford three breakages a night with no worries. After that, we pay a fiver a bottle out of our tips.”

“Do you break much?”

“Not any more. When I started, I knew nothing, so in the first three weeks I lost a fiver a day. It mounts up, and so the incentive not to drop them is strong.”

I worked out that she lost  £75 in her first three weeks. It seemed a lot of money to me. We worked a five-day week, no opening on Sunday or Monday. The club opened at eight p.m., and the girls were expected to be there from six until closing time at two a.m.

We were paid  £10 an hour, and then tips could, for the best amongst us, double that. Mike did everything properly, as tax was deducted at source, so we ended up with the  £10 after tax. The tips were not declared, so best I keep quiet about that! (please don’t tell the Inland Revenue!)

Most of us were students or school leavers. Some of the best girls had been here for a couple of years, so were professionals. Mandy was one, and she was planning a family. She had been here for five years, and her husband was a copper.

All her money was going into a saving’s account, and her first child was due in five months. She was on her last month before quitting. They were all so friendly, the hour’s training session was great fun and invaluable for new girls, like me.

I wasn’t the only newcomer. Three others had seen the same advert as I had and, like me, had been successful at interview, so we were all starting at the same time. I learned later that a lot more had applied and been turned down, so felt quite pleased with myself. It was an overdue boost to my quivering self-esteem.
 
 
We worked an hour on, and then had a twenty-minute break. The pressure for that hour was quite intense, and there were three pairs working together, with one of the pair off at any one time.

Kathy and I worked out some simple routines, and she checked my knowledge of the different cocktails. There were laminated cards beneath the bar, from which we could crib if we forgot. She told me the most popular, and showed me some tricks so as to reduce the volume of each drink by using fruit and ice.

“The booze prices mean that Mike makes a four to five hundred percent profit, but no one complains. Every Christmas he dishes out a bonus to each of us, and the girl who gets voted the best of the year by the punters gets a cheque for a grand!” Kathy told me.

“A grand?”

She grinned.

“I got it last year, which means I have to train the new girls this year. There is less chance of getting it in the Starter Bar.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. It is fairer, as someone different will get it each year.”
 
 
We were ready when the club opened, and we were first up. The punters were slow to start arriving, so we were able to continue practising between serving drinks. After my first hour, we hadn’t had a breakage. I’d dropped a bottle of vodka, but miraculously it hadn’t broken, so spillage was negligible. Only breakages were counted.

On our break, Kathy nodded at my breasts.

“You ought to wear a bra, otherwise you’ll find that you get painful after a few hours of this shit. I know, as I was like you when I started.”

I blushed again, and went to my locker. I discretely put on my bra, so was therefore ‘seen’ as a ‘normal’ girl by at least three other girls.

Kathy had been right, it was a tiring few hours, and my feet ached terribly by the end of the evening.

“You’ve learned two lessons, wear a bra and comfortable shoes! Otherwise, pain is the end result,” Kathy said, unsympathetically.

Mike came and spoke to me before I left.

“You did well. I was watching you. You’re the first girl to manage your first night without dropping a bottle, well done.”

“I did drop one, but it didn’t break,” I admitted and he chuckled.

He paid me my tips.  £40 was a lot of money to me. I knew that I’d be getting my  £80 pay at the end of the week for this night, and that was simply wonderful.

“Thanks for the chance,” I said.

“No problem. Kathy says you’re a natural.”

I was pleased as I went out to my taxi.

I fell into bed exhausted, but decided to learn to drive or find somewhere to live within walking distance of the club.

I mentioned my living arrangements to Kathy when I arrived at work the following evening.

“I thought you had your own place?”

“I do. It was my grandparents’ place. It is too far away to be much good. I spent over  £20 on a taxi last night.”

“Shit, you don’t want to do that every night. Why don’t you find somewhere local, just temporarily?”

“How far is Borehamwood from here?” I asked.

“Not that far, why?”

“I have a boyfriend there, he suggested taking a room at his aunt’s place.”

“Go for it girl, that sounds a good offer to me. You could rent out your place in Luton and easily pay for a room at his place.”

I had some time before I needed to be in the bar, so I rang Adam on Josh’s number.

“Sorry, Leanne, he’s not here. I think he’s at his aunt’s.”

I called his aunt’s number.

A rather well spoken woman answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, may I speak to Adam, please.”

“Whom shall I say is calling?”

“Leanne.”

“One moment.”

I then heard her yell for Adam.

“Hi, Leanne, how are you?”

“Better thanks. Look, did you really mean it about the room at your aunt’s?”

“Of course, are you interested?”

“You see, I have this job in Potters Bar and, well, Luton is too bloody far away.”

“Where in Potters Bar?”

“A nightclub called Badgers, do you know it?”

“Shit, you’re a Badgers girl?”

“What?”

“Leanne, only the best get to work there. Are you a waitress or what?”

“I work in behind the bar, why?”

“Shit! I don’t fucking believe you. Do you know how many girls they turn down?”

“No, why?”

“Leanne, it’s the best nightclub for miles around, and only the most fantastic girls work behind the bar. Several of the top spots in London and New York make offers to Badgers girls.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, she says. You are remarkable. Are you there now?”

“Um, yes, why?”

“I’m coming to see you. I have to see this!”

“Adam, wait! About the room?”

“It’s yours. Shit, a Badgers girl!”

There was a click as he hung up on me.

Kathy was looking at me strangely.

“You really don’t have a clue about the nightclub scene, have you?” she asked.

“Not really, why?”

“I take it your boyfriend was gobsmacked when you told him you worked here?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why. It’s just a job.”

“Leanne, it isn’t just a job. It’s a golden opportunity and for everyone Mike accepts, over a hundred get turned down.”

I stared at her and smiled weakly.

“How many jobs did you try before this one?” she asked.

“None. This was the first.”

She grinned and shook her head.

“Come on, we need to practice,” she said, and threw a bottle of rum at me.
 
 
We weren’t on first shift, and started at twenty to nine. We were well into the shift when a familiar figure loomed at the bar.

“How about a slow screw against the wall?” Adam asked, with a leer.

“Sure, and do you want something to drink as well?” I said.

Another guy, smaller than Adam, and with long fair hair grinned and punched Adam on the arm.

“Hi, so, I get to meet the lovely Leanne, at last?” he said.

“Leanne, Josh. Josh, Leanne,” Adam said, rubbing his arm.

“Hi Josh, drink?”

“Why not? What do you recommend?”

“Everything is very expensive, so I suggest a bottle of Bud, otherwise you need an overdraft.”

They grinned and ordered two bottles of Bud.

As I handed them over, Adam leaned across the bar.

“How about the slow screw against the wall?”

I smiled sweetly, and wagged my finger at him. My heart was racing, and I really wished I wasn’t what I was.
 
 
I had to serve a small party of northern sales reps, who were obviously out to spend a lot of money. One had already offered me cash to go to bed with him, and I wasn’t playing that game. One of the bouncers had drifted over and stood a safe distance away.

Kathy and I went into a routine of throwing bottles at each other, and lobbing ice into glasses several feet away. We got a round of applause, and I watched several bank notes disappear into the tip box on the bar.

At our break, I went and joined the boys at their table. Adam stood as I arrived and before I knew what was happening, we were kissing. It seemed to go on for an age, and I reluctantly broke off and sat down.

The rules were that if we joined anyone, they had to buy us a drink. We were allowed two drinks a night, and the cash went into the tip box.

I stuck to lemonade in any case.

“You look bloody marvellous!” Adam said.

“Yeah!” said Josh, staring at my tits.

“I spoke to my aunt, and she would be delighted to have a trainee primary school teacher in the house. She was a teacher before she retired, and feels you will be a good influence on me,” Adam told me.

Josh was still staring at my chest. I felt self-conscious, but flattered.

“Hey, Josh, leave my tits alone!” I said, folding my arms, so he went a delightful red colour.

“So when can I move in?” I asked.

“When do you want to?”

“Tomorrow?”

He grinned.

“Do you need help to move?”

“Can you?”

“Of course. Josh has a car. Can we come back and stay at your place tonight, then we can move you when we get up.”

I smiled.

“Sounds too good to be true,” I said.

“What are you going to do with your place?”

“I’ll contact a letting agent, and let it fully furnished. I should get about five to six hundred a month for a three bedroom house.”

I had to go back to work, so the guys made their beers last a very long time. At four pounds a bottle, they had good reason to.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 2
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
Lee and Leanne were twins, but as a young baby, Leanne dies, leaving her twin with the firm belief that part of her remained with him for always.

As Lee grew in an unhappy home, struggling with a gender identity problem, events occurred that enabled Leanne to come alive again, in more ways than one.

Leanne got a job in a classy cocktail bar, called Badger's, that turned away hundreds for every one that was accepted.

She was a unique girl...

in more ways than one!

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: Badger's Set  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
Life was good for a month. I moved into the back bedroom of Adam’s Aunt Mary’s house.

I had a picture of a tall angular woman, who wore tweeds and a severe expression of distant disapproval.

Instead, I met a small round woman of around fifty, with a bubbly personality, a lovely laugh and a unique dress sense. She liked dark maroon and black, and in the dark-ages she’d have been chucked into local ponds, or given a good roasting!

I was surprised that she’d retired so early, but she chuckled and told me why.

"I was a head teacher, but had a run in with the governors, who were rather too pink and fluffy for me. I resigned to make a point, but had accrued enough to have a decent pension and now do a lot of examination marking for GCSEs and A levels."

The rent was only  £25 per week, and that included helping myself to cereal whenever I wanted. I hadn’t planned telling her about my job, but she found out and hooted with laughter.

"How wonderful! Oh, that’s super, I wish I’d done something like that when I was young," she said.
 
 
I had my first appointment with the psychologist who specialised in gender dysphoria. My appearance seemed to disconcert him somewhat, as I was the picture of female normality.

His name was Rupert McCloud, and he had a distinct Scottish accent.

He was a small man, of around forty or fifty, thin with a receding hairline. To compensate, he grew his hair long at the back, so it looked faintly ludicrous.

He wore jeans and a rather tatty brown suede jacket that was probably all the rage in 1976.

I, on the other hand, was wearing a smart skirt and matching jacket, with a pale blue blouse, stockings and smart court shoes. I never wore trousers these days, and adored every minute of my new life.

He stared at me as I entered his consulting room.

"Yes?"

"Doctor McCloud? I’m Leanne Roberts."

He stared and blinked, as if disbelieving what I had said. Then he looked at his notes on his desk, and invited me to sit down.

The consultation was a bit of a farce. He, clearly had to assess whether I was a suitable candidate for SRS, or otherwise was a gender manipulating time-waster.

It became apparent in a short space of time that these appointments were a complete waste of time for both of us. I knew I was a girl, and simply wished to bring the physical in line with every other aspect of my life. He believed it too, but had to show at least six months of consultation and therapy to prove the point.

Nevertheless, he was bound by procedures, so we had to go through the motions. He asked me to talk about my childhood and how I felt and everything else he felt was relevant.
 
 
At the end of the hour, he looked at me over his glasses.

"I don’t think either of us is in any doubt about your position, or indeed, your condition. Is there any likelihood of you changing your mind?"

I smiled and shook my head.

"No, I thought not. If it is any consolation, at no point have I thought of you as anything other than an attractive young woman. I see no real value of wasting valuable NHS funding on unnecessary consultations over the next five months to tell us both something we already know.

"You’ve been on hormones for a while, I understand from your notes, so I am recommending that once your surgeon is satisfied that your physical condition is suitable for the necessary operations, then he should proceed. I want to see you one more time, just before the final operation, so I can validate the decision."

"It remains for me to simply wish you the best of luck."

I was dumbfounded. I understood that these psychologists were often very difficult. Not wanting him to change his mind, I thanked him and left.

I was considered no longer a ‘trainee’ at work, and Kathy decided to stay with me as my working partner, which pleased me, as often the girls dumped their new girl, who then had to team up with another of similar experience. She wanted to get up to the Upper Bar again, where the tips were considerably better. After a couple of weeks, Mike moved us up to the first floor. I was thrilled, so we managed to improve our slick routines.

Adam found himself a labouring job on a building site, and as a result was going to bed really early, completely knackered, so we saw less and less of each other. I was still asleep when he went to work, and was just on the way out when he got back.

His aunt was fine, but I rarely saw her either. I slept late and kept myself to myself. I was never in for a meal in the evening, except on Sundays and Mondays, but was occasionally around for a snack lunch with her.

The letting agency found a young family to rent my house, so I started getting an income coming in from that. I put that into a separate fund for University, augmenting it with whatever I had left over from my pay every month.

I took my hormones, joined a local gym, and began to notice subtle changes in my physique and general shape. I had my first appointment with the surgeon, Mr Carpenter, on one of my Mondays off in October. I had been on the prescribed hormones for two months, so my own breasts were beginning to bud. So much so, that the breast forms were now causing me some discomfort.

He was a very distinguished looking man and even wore a bow tie. He kept calling me, ‘My dear’, and gave me an exceptionally thorough examination. The first was a blood test, which he handed to a nurse, who immediately took it out of the room.
 
 
I lay on his examination couch, naked except for a sheet over me. He prodded and poked me in every conceivable orifice. He examined my genitalia very closely, asking a great many questions.

He gently probed my sensitive chest, and asked me to stand, naked, so he could get an overall picture.

I did so, and he put his head to one side as he looked at me through half closed eyes.

"When was the last time you looked at yourself like this, naked and full length?"

I shrugged.

"A few weeks ago. I don’t have access to a full length mirror where I’m staying at the moment."

"Take a look!" he suggested, so I stepped in front of the mirror.

I was so used to seeing me from a different angle, that I was quite surprised at the whole picture that greeted me.

With my long hair cascading down to my shoulders, and my face made up, there was no doubt that I appeared more female than male. The main changes were in my figure. I looked down and the swell of my small breasts made me feel very strange. It was my narrow waist and wider hips that surprised me the most. I had automatically tucked my hated genitalia between my legs, so could almost believe I was a real girl.

I was still wearing those shape making pants. It looked as if I didn’t need to any more!

"Hmm, you really have a very fine feminine figure. Remarkably so, really. Turn round, please."

I did so.

"Bend over."

I bent over, feeling very vulnerable and exposed.

He examined me as I bent over, so I felt embarrassed.

"All right, I’ve seen everything I need, for the moment. You may get dressed again. Thank you."

Relieved, I dressed again, and then sat down in front of his desk, as he wrote reams of notes.

I sat and watched his fountain pen scratch its way across the page, again, and again.
 
 
Finally, he put the pen down, took his spectacles off and looked at me. He smiled.

"Leanne, I have received your GP's notes, and the recommendation from the Psychologist, and having now seen you in the flesh, so to speak, I am now in a position to make certain decisions and put recommendations to you.

"Firstly, the psychologist’s assessment is positive as far as SRS is concerned. Secondly, both Dr Michaels and the psychologist are both of the opinion that SRS would be vial for your continued mental well-being. Physically, you have the appearance of a young woman, with the exception of your breasts, which are still quite immature. I should say you have developed very naturally indeed.

"Your physique is of a woman of your age, and I suspect that you may be slightly inter-sexed in some form or other."

"Inter-sexed?"

"You may have heard of the term, hermaphrodite?"

"Yes, that’s someone with the sexual characteristics of both genders, isn’t it?"

"Quite correct. Therefore, the term — inter-sexed - relates to those who do not show clear characteristics of both genders, but may have some elements of both, some of which may well be hidden. Now, you stated that you have ejaculated, but it was a clear liquid, not cloudy, and you cannot recall ever having an erection."

"That’s right."

"Now, you also stated that recently, since taking the oestrogen, you have been suffering occasional tummy pains."

"Yes, but they only last a couple of days."

"How often?"

"Every month, I counted, the last lot were twenty eight days apart. Doctor Michaels said I would get symptoms similar to period pains."

"Indeed, yes, that is true, as far as the psychosomatic and mood swings are concerned. In a woman’s period, the tummy pains are caused by ovulation and the womb lining decaying and coming away.

"The only way you, as a genetic male, would get tummy pains are due to intestinal activity, unless you have something inside you that you shouldn’t. Did you have an upset tummy after these pains?"

"No, not really."

"I’m afraid the next question is a bit personal, but I have to ask it. I couldn’t see any physical signs, but have you ever had anal sex?"

I reddened, but shook my head. "Never. But then I've not had any sex at all, with either gender."

"Good! I didn’t think you had, but needed to be certain. So I now know that your pain isn’t caused by that."

"Is anal sex dangerous?" I asked, displaying my naivety.

"Medically, I have to say that if you use any part of your anatomy for something it’s not designed for, then there are always possible problems. Equally, that if sensible and careful, I’m told that anal sex can be pleasurable for both males and females. There are many gay men out there who seem to enjoy it and don’t have too many medical problems associated with it. There are potential long-term issues with muscle relaxation and haemorrhoids, but for the occasional experience, I'm told that it is relatively safe."

"Oh. I can’t say I’ve actually thought about sex of any kind."

"That’s your hormones speaking. If, as I suspect you might, you have some female anatomical characteristic inside that tummy of yours, you may well be inter-sexed to some degree or other.

"You seem to have a normal penis, small, as there is no doubt that it isn’t a large clitoris, because you pee through it. Your testes, on the other hand, are obviously abnormal, in that they have hardly developed at all. You said you started the androgens when you were sixteen?"

"Yes, around then, perhaps a little earlier."

"Then your testes should have been perfectly formed by that time. They aren’t and look to me as if they have not been affected by puberty at all. In fact, you don’t appear to have experienced puberty in any shape or form. Your voice hasn’t broken, which by sixteen, should have happened. Your whole development is characteristically female, with the exception of your genitalia and lack of bosom."

"You have been on the regular hormones for what, two months, now?"

"Officially since August, yes, but I have been taking non-prescriptive hormones for some time now."

"I see that from your notes. That was risky, so I’m pleased we’ve stopped all that. You have developed into an A cup already. Normally I should expect that after five or six months of hormones at this level. These all tell me you aren’t what you seem. Or rather, you may well be what you seem, at least in part. I think there is more girl in you than you ever suspected."

The nurse returned and placed a slip of paper on the doctor’s desk. He put his spectacles back on and read it.

"Hmm, interesting," he said.

I stared at him.

"Leanne, do you know what chromosomes are?"

"Yes, I think so. They retain the DNA print that makes us who we are."

"Exactly, and a little bit more. You see, your chromosomes are not the XY I was expecting. You actually seem to be XX, which would explain why you have a female shape. However, the test is not conclusive. Normal males are XY, females are XX and a small selection of the population slip into this category of having an extra chromosome, or even more than one. It is possible, but highly unusual, to have XX chromosomes and have masculine sexual genitalia. It is more usual to have XXY chromosomes. Some people in this category have unusual growth problems, and others have some degree of learning difficulties. There are no set rules, except that nearly all are infertile.

"Now, I propose to bring forward your surgery, in order to establish exactly what you actually have inside of that tummy of yours, and to eradicate, for once and for all, the male aspects of your body. I will run a more thorough test on your genes, just to be sure. In a word, you may well be unique!"

It was a lot to take in.

"So, when would you want to operate?"

"Under normal circumstances, I’d like to have you on the hormones for a good twelve months, but I don’t want to wait that long. I’m fully committed up to Christmas; however, I do have a slot on January the 30th."
 
 
This was a lot sooner than I had ever anticipated, putting all my plans into chaos in the process. I was sort of banking on the operation being in July, so I could have the summer to get over it before going to Uni. January was a lot earlier!

"In the meantime I would want you to have a MRI scan and several tests. Just to know as much as I can before I start any cutting," he said.

I nodded. My mind was in a whirl. I touched my nose, and Dr Cowper’s words came back to me.

"Will I need any cosmetic surgery?"

He looked at me.

"Do you think you need it?"

"I don’t know, do I?"

"If you want my opinion? No. You have no prominent Adam’s apple. Your face is almost symmetrical and you have a very pretty nose and full lips. There are real women out there who would spend a fortune to look as good as you do!"

I smiled, I may not know exactly what I was, but I wasn’t a male.

"January the 30th sounds fine to me. How long will I be in hospital?"

"Well, it depends on what I find needs doing. A normal SRS will usually require about a week in hospital, at the most, as long as there are no complications. You will need a good couple of weeks off work to recover, and then up to twelve weeks before you even think about using your new equipment."

I frowned, I couldn’t afford that much time off work. Not if I wanted to save enough for uni, and to take that trip to America.

"You are working?"

"Yes. Behind the bar at a nightclub."

"Oh, which one?"

"Badgers, in Potters Bar."

"I’ve heard of it. I understand that there is stiff competition to get a job there?"

I smiled and shrugged.

"That should tell you something about what you look like," he said with a smile.

I left him with a huge smile on my face.

I knew everything was too good to be true!
 
 
Kathy was waiting for me that evening.

She had a weird expression on her face.

She waited for us to be alone.

"Leanne, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"This may sound really daft, but are you really a boy?"
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
I stared at her.

"What?" My heart was thumping. What had given me away?

"You heard. Are you?"

"What makes you think that I am?"

"I remembered talking to this boy in the club, ages ago, before you came to work here. He was asking about jobs and I remember thinking that he would make a very pretty girl, for a boy! When I first met you, I knew I’d seen you before, and it has been bugging me ever since you arrived, and it only dawned on me when I had seen you."

I sat down, totally deflated and felt as if my whole world had collapsed. I knew that any denial would be transparent as a lie, so I didn’t say anything.

"You are! My God, I don’t believe it. You are so convincing!"

"You saw through me," I said in a flat tone.

"No I didn’t. I just remembered seeing you as a boy and trying to picture you as a girl!"

I stared at her. "Why?"

She went a little red.

"I like to do that. I find it sexy."

"What, men dressed as girls?"

"The whole gender-bending scene. I find the ambiguity and deception a real turn on. One of my fantasies if to go to bed with a girl, who is really a boy!"

I stared at her. I thought I was screwed up.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"Nothing! I think you’re simply brilliant. I love the whole idea of a boy doing what you are doing, and you even have a really cute boyfriend!"

I shook my head; she was weird!

She nodded at my breasts.

"Are those you, or what?"

"They’re breast forms. I used to stick them on, but now I’m an A cup in my own right, I can’t stick them on without some discomfort."

"Can I see?"

I lifted up my tee shirt, and she touched them through my bra.

"They feel just like the real thing! This is so cool!"

I pulled my shirt down, and took a step away from her.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Why not?"

"I don’t see girls like that. My best friend is a girl. I suppose I just want to be a girl, in all ways."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

I shook my head again.

She walked over to me.

"Do you want to?"

I looked at her, noticing her face was a little flushed.

My God! She was actually turned on by me and my deception. What a weird world this was!

I stood up and looked uncertainly at her.

"I don’t think so, it just wouldn’t feel right."

"Can we try, just to see?" she asked.

I wasn’t convinced, but nodded slightly.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on the lips. Her tongue darted between her teeth, and the kiss went deeper. It didn’t feel right. When Adam kissed me, it felt perfectly normal. This felt odd, somehow.

She broke off and smiled.

"You have no idea what this makes me feel, have you?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Did you like it?" she asked.

"It’s not like kissing Adam. It’s all right, I suppose."

"Did you feel anything?"

"Kathy, the hormones I’m on mean I don’t really feel anything, you know, down there. I don’t, even with Adam!"

"What, nothing?"

"Nothing!"

"Shit, you poor girl," she said and then laughed when she realised what she’d called me.

"Look, I thought I was a lesbian, but I have this thing about boys looking like girls. Have you still got everything, you know, down there?" she said, her eyes flicking to my crotch.

I nodded. "Sort of. It doesn't work, though.

"Cool. You and I must get together one night. Does your guy know?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, how wonderful, are you going to tell him?"

"Shit, I don’t know. Everything is happening so bloody fast. I don’t know anything any more!" I said, and felt close to tears.

She was suddenly holding me in her arms, kissing me again.

"Shh, don’t cry. I’d never betray you. Oh, Leanne, you are just so sexy and sweet. I will help you all I can. Are you going for the operation?"

I nodded.

"Next year, at the end of January."

"Oh, how wonderful! Please don’t think bad of me. I just want to help, and I won’t tell anyone, okay?" Her big blue eyes appealed to me, but I felt trapped. She knew my darkest secret, yet I didn’t want to risk her going public with it. It would pay me to keep her sweet, but at what cost?

"Okay," I said, somewhat reluctantly.

She actually clapped her hands.

"Fantastic! Oh, this will be such fun!"
 
 
We went to work as usual, and she seemed to have the devil in her. She encouraged the guys to flirt with me, and got the giggles when they all truly believed me to be a girl.

This seemed to be the norm for us thereafter, but she never mentioned it at work again. I almost relaxed, but knew that she was planning something.

That something was her birthday party.

Kathy was twenty on the 10th November. She asked a group of the girls for a girls’ night out in Watford on the Sunday when we weren’t working. There was an all girls’ show on at a nightclub called Baileys, where the Chippendales were due to strut their stuff in front of over five hundred women, and one pretend one!

It was a boozy evening and was actually great fun. The Chippendales were very hunky, and covered in oil. Once they were down to the tiniest briefs, that left little to the imagination, one came over to me and I ran my hands down his body. It felt good, while Kathy screamed in delight. Our secret heightened her pleasure enormously.
 
 
By the end of the night, it was after two in the morning, and I was rather pickled.

Before I knew what was happening, I found myself at Kathy’s flat, and the taxi buggered off. Her flatmate, Sally, was with us, but she was worse than me. She went straight to bed, leaving us in the living room.

"I ought to get home," I said.

"Nonsense, stay the night. We aren’t working tomorrow."

I looked at the sofa, as I had slept in much worse places.

"Okay."

She came over to me and pulled me into her room. She had an enormous bed, and she grinned.

"This bed is plenty big enough for two. Besides, what can two girls get up to?" she said with a silly grin.

I was tired and not a little drunk. Even so I knew what she was after, and to be honest, my curiosity was piqued.

I’d never had sex, with a boy or girl, as a boy or girl, and I just needed some physical contact, like anyone else. The sex side of things was almost irrelevant, but the emotional side was very important.

I lay on the bed, and felt her take my shoes off. The next thing I knew she was down to her underwear, and then naked. She had a lovely body; just like I’d always wanted to have for myself..

She snuggled up next to me, making no attempt to do anything other than kiss me. There was a large mirror down one wall, and I saw two pretty girls kissing and stroking each other.

She was a good kisser, better than I was. I’d had little experience, and she spent a long time kissing me. I was not aware of her undressing me, but when I next looked in the mirror, we were both naked.

My small breasts looked pathetic in contrast to her full 34Ds, and her very white skin was much paler than my darker complexion. I felt her hand gently stroking my miniscule genitals, and she sat astride me, rubbing herself against what little I had.

I kissed and licked her breasts, and started feeling sensations from my genitals. She managed to get my bits against her clitoris, and was rubbing herself faster and faster. I rolled her nipples between my teeth, and suddenly felt a warm gush of liquid cover me from her vagina.

"Ohh, yes!" she said, and kissed me passionately.

She then got off me, and took what little I had in her mouth. Her bum was inches from my face, and she obviously wanted me to perform oral sex on her.

The musty aroma emanating from her engorged labia was overpowering and heady. Despite the partial revulsion that I thought I ought to feel, I found I wanted to please her.

I cautiously explored her open sex with my tongue, and tasted a woman for the first time.

The smell was different, but almost intoxicating. I found her cherry, and sucked it. She forced her hips back against my face, so then we both started rocking in a rhythmic motion.

I could feel very little, and was ashamed that she could elicit little response from my little worm. But as she sucked the glans, I started feeling a warm sensation welling up deep inside me.

She came again, and I was surprised by the veritable flood that covered my face.

I grabbed some tissues, and she stopped sucking me.

She helped me clean up.
 
 
"Sorry, but, shit, you really turned me on! I haven’t come like that for ages!"

I smiled, pleased to have given her pleasure.

She stroked my face.

"Is there nothing I can do for you?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"I don’t think so. Sex has not been high on my list of priorities recently."

She giggled and then started licking my nipples.

A completely new feeling welled up and made me squirm with pleasure. I gasped, and she smothered my breasts with kisses.

I was left panting, unsure what I felt.

She looked at me. She really was very sexy, and I idly wondered what Adam would be like in bed.

"You’d rather I was a bloke, wouldn’t you?" she said.

I smiled and nodded.

"Okay, then lets see what I can do!" she said, and got off the bed.

I watched her walk to the chest of drawers. She opened the top left drawer, taking out a very realistic dildo. It had straps attached to it, which she deftly wrapped around her waist. It looked huge!

Suddenly I felt scared.

"Kathy, no!" I said, recalling what the doctor told me.

"I promise I won’t hurt you. I’ve had anal, and if you do it right, it’s cool!"

"Kathy!"

"Leanne, just trust me, please?"
 
 
She came back to the bed, and I saw she had a tub of something in her other hand. She smeared something very cool over my bum and I felt her fingers enter my anus. She was very gentle, but I reacted and tightened up.

"Relax, please sweetie!"

I gave her a dirty look and she grinned.

She rubbed my anus gently, and then her fingers slipped in. I tried to relax and it actually felt okay.

She took one of my hands, making me rub her vagina, as she mirrored my movements, and it felt pretty good. I was on my back with my legs open. Her hand was rubbing me, with one finger up my anus.

I had never felt this before, so I closed my eyes.

Kathy started speaking to me.

"Imagine Adam is here, and his dick is all stiff and ready. He wants you, and the only way you can please him is to let him fuck you. You are all wet and ready, and he places the tip against your bum."

I felt something cool against my arse. It was smooth and felt nice. I was rubbing her very fast, and she was writhing and gasping with pleasure.

"He wants you, Leanne, and you want him so bad. You want him inside you, you want to be a girl for him, relax girl, he’s coming in!"

I relaxed, and felt a sharp ache as Kathy gently inserted the dildo into me. She pushed and pulled it so gently, and I felt things that I had no idea I was capable of.
 
 
Leaving it deep inside me, she lay between my legs, as a man would if he were fucking me. I wrapped my legs round her, and could feel the thing deep inside me. She moved in and out very slowly and gently, and I glanced at the mirror again.

I was being fucked, and the visual impression together with the physical feeling started me towards a pseudo climax.

I experienced a weird mix of feelings, a crescendo of sensations, centred on my belly, seemed to hit me, and even my small dick seemed to be part of it all.

Kathy was pounding faster, and I lay back and let it happen, I just watched myself, as the final wave of pleasure hit me, leaving me sexually sated for the first time in my life.

"Now fuck me!" she said, taking off the contraption, and wiping it with anti-bacterial wipes.

I looked down and saw that I still had no erection, but clear liquid was seeping from my dick.

I strapped on the dildo, as she lay back. I went between her legs, and she helped insert the dildo.

I rode her hard, fascinated by her expressions as she neared climax, I tried to gauge my movements to heighten her pleasure. She screamed and dug her nails into my back, and lay there smiling.

So, for the first time in my life, I actually fucked a woman, more or less!

We collapsed in each other’s arms and passed out.
 
 
It was light when I awoke. My left arm was trapped under Kathy, and had gone to sleep. Carefully, I removed it without waking her.

I looked at her for a moment, and wondered what made her like the things she did. We were both a mess. Both were covered in sticky stuff which had dried to a crust, and I also had a foul taste in my mouth.

I slipped to the bathroom, wearing my knickers in case Sally was about.

The apparition in the mirror had seen better days, but she was most definitely female.

It had been fun, and I wondered why I didn’t feel more guilty.

I stepped into the shower and had a good wash. Afterwards, I used one of the tooth brushes and dried my hair.

I slipped back to the room and noticed that Kathy was watching me.

"Morning," she said.

"Hi."

"Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"I think so. A bit hung-over, but otherwise pretty good."

"I’m sorry about last night, but I’ve wanted to do that with you since I found out."

"It’s okay. It was fun."

"Yeah? Do you want to know something?"

"What?" I asked.

"You aren’t a boy. You are more a girl than some girls I’ve been to bed with!"

"Oh?"

"You make love like a woman, you look and taste like a woman."

I smiled.

"That’s okay then."

She smiled, rolled off the bed and came over and kissed me.

"You even kiss like a woman," she said, after we broke off.

She went to the loo, as I got dressed. I was putting my makeup on when she returned having had a shower.

She watched me for a moment.

"Do you want this to go anywhere?" she asked, at last.

I looked at her.

"Do you?"

She frowned.

"To be honest, not really. But if you wanted to, I would. You are a very sexy girl, and the sex was really great, I loved every minute. But you are definitely a girl. I think we are both looking for the same thing. A boy with the bits that do what they are supposed to do!"

I smiled.

"That’s okay then."

"Leanne. I want us to be special friends, and this could be part of it, if you want. I know you haven’t been to bed with Adam, and won’t until the operation. But I get the feeling that we are not cut out for a relationship like that!"

"That suits me," I said, as I kissed her.
 
 
As a boy, I had always felt slightly envious of girls and their tactile manner when amongst friends of the same gender. For the first time, I experienced what that was really like, as Kathy and I became very tactile with each other.

The fact we were lovers seemed irrelevant, but certainly we were very relaxed and happy in each other’s company. We would go shopping arm in arm, or even with arms around each other.

We kissed whenever we met or left each other, and spent a lot of time with each other.

She took it upon herself to be my coach and mentor. She had already taught me the ropes in the bar. Now she helped me to be the woman I was becoming.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 3
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
Lee and Leanne were twins, but as a young baby, Leanne dies, leaving her twin with the firm belief that part of her remained with him for always.

As Lee grew in an unhappy home, struggling with a gender identity problem, events occurred that enabled Leanne to come alive again, in more ways than one.

Leanne got a job in a classy cocktail bar, called Badger's, that turned away hundreds for every one that was accepted.

She was a unique girl...

in more ways than one!

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: Badger's Set  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
“Please, Leanne, I love you and want us to cement our deepening relationship!”

“Adam. I’m not ready to go to bed with you yet. I like you a lot, maybe even love you, but I am not going to leap into bed with you just because you are feeling randy!”

I was waiting for this, so I wasn’t surprised that he was now pushing me to become more physical. We had been ‘going out’ since September, and now Christmas was around the corner, he was steadily becoming more physical and heavy handed. Our petting sessions tended to end with me having to walk off, in order to prevent him discovering my secret.

My breasts were now a healthy B cup, and I was no longer wearing my enhancers. This was simply wonderful, as the enhancers were B cups, so there was little visual difference, except my nipples were slightly more prominent when it was cold.
 
 
It was Sunday evening, a week before Christmas, and we had the house to ourselves. It was the only day off we had together, as he worked on Mondays, and I went to work on Saturday evenings.

“Girls don’t have to wait to get married, any more. It’s okay to have sex, I promise that I'll take precautions, if you aren’t on the pill!” he said, his voice had that plaintive and pleading note to it.

I had to tell him something, otherwise he would go elsewhere, and I was quite sure I didn’t want him to do that.

I sat down on the sofa with him and took his hand.

“Adam, look, it isn’t you, or sex or even getting pregnant that is stopping me. Okay, I’d like to wait until I am certain about things, but there is something you ought to know.”

Oh shit! How much should I tell him?

“I went to the doctor the other day, and I’ve been sent to a specialist. It’s complicated, but I have an obstruction down there.”

No lie, I had a dick instead of a vagina!

“I'm not exactly sure what's wrong with me, but I can’t have sex.”

Still no lie!

Adam was frowning.

“Is it, you know, serious?”

You mean like cancer?”

He nodded.

“No, at least I don’t think so. The specialist didn’t think so either.”

“So what is it?”

“He thinks it's tissue that should have cleared away when I was in my mother’s womb. I had an MRI scan last week, and X-rays, blood tests and the works. I'm booked in to have it removed at the end of January.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Worry? Shit, what the hell have you been going through all alone? Bloody hell, Leanne, I thought I was important to you, couldn’t you have trusted me?” he was almost shouting.

I started to cry, and he immediately put his arm around me.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, love, it’s just that you mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you fucks with my head!” he said, kissing my temple.

“So, what do you know?” he asked, his voice quiet and sounding concerned.

What did I tell him?

“My chromosomes are normal XX female. My development down there is immature, and the obstruction non-malignant. They're not sure if I can ever have babies, but I'll have to wait for tests to confirm that.”

I looked at him. I still hadn’t lied. Okay, I hadn’t been completely honest, but that was my right.

His expression was so compassionate, that I felt the tears coming again. The problem with bloody hormones was that I cried at the drop of a hat these days.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I had no idea,” he said.

“I know. Maybe I should have told you, but I really didn’t want to worry you, not until I knew exactly what was wrong.”

“I’m glad you did now. At least I understand you better, and will be here for you properly.”

I snuggled in close to him.
 
 
I felt guilty that I wasn’t being completely honest, and also that Kathy and I had sexual frolics on a few occasions since that first time. For me it was necessary physical contact, and for her time to fantasise and enjoy herself.

As a bisexual girl, she found me a delightful challenge.

I was a bit of both, and yet not really either.

For me, I enjoyed pleasing her and, in return, I actually did get a lot of pleasure. I was uncertain what I should feel, as a boy or a girl. I felt almost satisfied, but most importantly I felt accepted.

I hoped that it wouldn’t get all messy further down the line.

“How long have you known?” he asked, breaking me from my guilty thoughts.

“Years. I haven’t had proper periods, and so things have been a bit awkward.”

No lie!

“I can imagine.”

I looked up at him, and he was looking at me with such a soppy expression on his face, that I felt so awful deceiving him.

“Oh, Adam. I’m so sorry for deceiving you!” I heard myself say.

“Shh, you haven’t! I fell for a really attractive girl, and she’s still here. I can’t say that it was the sex, so there’s no deception!”

Oh yes there is!

“I should have been honest form the start, and then you’d have been able to find a proper girlfriend.”

“Leanne, shut the fuck up! I have a proper girlfriend, and if you say that ever again, I will get really pissed off, okay?”

“Okay.”
 
 
We sat in silence, watching Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman on the TV. We were snuggled together, and he was stroking one of my breasts in a vague sort of way.

My nipple came erect, and he rolled it between his finger and thumb through the tee shirt and bra.

I started to squirm, as it was rather nice.

I stroked the outside of his fly, and felt his erection.

I made a decision, and unzipped him.

It was about the same size as Kathy’s dildo, but it was hot and throbbing. He was circumcised, and the large helmet was so smooth and silky to my touch.

I placed my head in his lap, taking him in my mouth. He gasped with pleasure and surprise, thrusting himself gently down my throat. I held the shaft, as I was unwilling to take him all the way in. I rolled my tongue around the helmet while grasping the shaft and slowly rubbing him up and down.

He thrust faster and deeper, and then said, “Shit! I’m coming!”

He jerked and I felt a hot spurt of his semen in my mouth. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t as bad I had thought. It wasn’t delicious, but it was hot, slightly salty, and with a tingle that is hard to describe.

There was quite a lot of it!

I swallowed and licked him clean.

“Shit, Leanne, you didn’t have to do that!”

“Yes, I did, otherwise you’d have had to go elsewhere,” I teased.

“Never. I’d wait forever for you!”

“Aw, you big softy.”
 
 
He was much more considerate and gentle with me from then on, so I was able to relax a little. I still wouldn’t sleep with him. I was terrified of him discovering the truth. I told Kathy what I’d said, and she approved.

“Perfect, you didn’t lie, and so you can always tell him more when you are a normal girl.”

“I feel awful, though.”

“Don’t. Look, Leanne, you have one crack at life, and sometime you have to bend things in your favour, okay?”

I nodded, and got on with my life.

Work was hectic as office Christmas Parties meant we were packed to capacity every night.
 
 
On Christmas Eve, Kathy and I were in the Upper Bar, and we took record tips. I tumbled into bed at five a.m. and was asleep in no time.

Adam woke me up at lunchtime.

His Aunt had made a traditional Christmas Lunch, to which I was invited. Expecting just us, I dressed in a skirt and woolly pullover, and found nearly a dozen people in the dining room, just sitting down at the table.

“Ah, Leanne, you’re here at last,” said his aunt Mary.

“Leanne’s Adam’s girlfriend and the poor girl worked until five o’clock this morning.”
I didn’t know any of the others, and found myself between Adam and a cousin called Gordon, who was a little older than Adam.

“So where’s your family?” Gordon asked, between mouthfuls of turkey.

“My Dad died when I was very young. He was murdered in Columbia by guerrillas. My mum and her new husband live in New Zealand somewhere with their kids.”

He frowned.

“So you’ve no one over here?”

“No, just Adam and my job. I start teacher training college next year, so I can make a start in the world.”

The conversation rolled on, and I was able to answer everything and managed to transfer attention to him. Gordon liked talking about himself. He was a commodity broker in the city, and planned on being a millionaire by the time he was thirty-five.
I thought he was a bit of a tosser, but decided not to share this insight with anyone else.
 
 
After lunch the relatives scattered to the four winds, while Adam, Mary and I collapsed in front of the TV.

I felt uncomfortably full, and eased my skirt loose to ease the pain. The pain got worse, and I went to the loo. To my horror, not only did I have the screaming shits, but there was blood in there as well.

I was very afraid, as the pain was even worse and I didn’t know what to do.

I rang Dr Michael’s emergency number. As fortune had it, he was the doctor on call, and he asked me to meet him at the surgery. Adam gave me a lift, poor dear, he looked more worried than I had ever seen him.

He examined me, and shook his head gravely.

“I’m not sure, was the blood bright or dark?”

“Dark, but with everything else, I can’t be certain.”

“Where is the pain?”

I showed him.

He picked up his small phone book, and leafed through it. He then punched a number, and picked up the receiver when it was answered. He spoke for a moment, while I rushed to the loo again.When I returned, he put the phone down.

“That was Roger Carpenter. He wants you to go to the Orchard clinic at Elstree, immediately. Can you do that?”

“Yes, oh shit, is it serious?”

“He doesn’t know. But if you are bleeding rectally, then it is only a limited number of things. Historically, if it was something like cancer, we’d have more symptoms. It isn’t haemorrhoids, and neither does it seem related to the digestive system. So that leaves something in his line of expertise.”
 
 
Adam drove me in his aunt’s Peugeot, and so fast, I had to tell him to slow down twice.

I arrived at the small private clinic, and found it very quiet due to it being Christmas day.

I approached the plush reception desk, and the woman there glanced up from her book.

“Leanne Roberts?”

“Yes,” I said.

She smiled.

“Mr Carpenter called and you are expected. If you go up to the first floor, you're in room five.”

I had no night clothes or anything, so Adam came up with me.

We found the room and, as we opened the door, a nurse appeared.

“Hi, Leanne?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, sweetie, there’s a smock on the bed. Mr

Carpenter is on his way. Just slip the smock on, I have to take some blood. When did you last eat?”

“Um, three or four hours ago.”

“Okay, I understand you’ve passed a lot from the rear?”

“Just a bit!” I said, sarcastically.

She laughed.

“Fine. I’m Jenny, don’t worry, Mr Carpenter is brilliant, you’ll be fine.”

She turned to Adam and told him to go and pack a case for me with night clothes, makeup, wash things and some underwear.

“Just get Mary to do it,” I said, and he kissed me on the cheek.

“I’ll be back!” he said, in his best Arnie voice.

Once he had gone, I changed, as Jenny started sticking needles into me.

I had to go to the loo twice more, still passing a mixture of blood and what was left over from my Christmas dinner, so she collected a sample of the result.

I’d never be a nurse!
 
 
By the time Mr Carpenter arrived, I was in awful pain, bt I'd been to the loo again, but was passing only blood.

He took one look at me and smiled grimly.

“You don’t look too good!”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said through clenched teeth as another wave of pain hit me. I felt very frightened.

Jenny came in and said something to him.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

“That’s what Simon said.”

He turned to me.

“Simon is my resident boffin. He has kindly come in on Christmas day to run some tests for me. It seems the blood you are excreting is not what I expected at all. I think, young lady, you are more complex that I ever thought!”

“What does that mean?”

“I won’t know for sure until I go in and take a wee peek. The last time you went to the loo, was it only blood?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Leanne, I don’t really know what’s wrong, but I am going to have to operate tonight. Right now, I'm just waiting for an anaesthetist and some theatre staff, so once they arrive, I'll just crack on. You did the right thing, an A & E would have been wholly unsuitable and ill prepared to deal with you.”

“You mean tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. Now, Jenny tells me that a young man brought you in, is he your boyfriend?”

I nodded.

“How much does he know?”

“I said I had an obstruction, nothing else.”

He smiled.

“Well, I suppose that is true, to a point. All right, then we’ll stick with that. Is there anyone who does know the truth whom we can contact? You may be needing them.”

“Kathy from work,” I said, and grabbed my bag. I gave him her number.

I was in too much pain to take much notice after that. I vaguely remember a consent form being placed in front of me, which I signed. I think.

Adam came back with Mary, and they popped in for a few moments. I was very ill, so don’t honestly remember very much. I was put on a trolley and watched ceiling lights flit past, and then recall masked faces looking down at me.

Everything went blissfully black, and the pain went away.
 
 
Chapter 8
 
 
The pain was back!

I screamed, so someone turned the pain off again.

There were funny smells and my brain felt fuzzy. I went to sleep.

I opened an eye and saw an upside down face floating above my head.

“Leanne, can you hear me?”

“G’way, let me sleep!”

“Leanne, you can sleep in a moment. Do you remember where you are?”

I had closed my eyes. I didn’t want to wake up.

“LEANNE!”

I opened my eyes again.

“What?” I asked, cross now.

The face smiled.

“Good girl! Now, where are you?”

I frowned, and tried to de-fuzz my mind. I looked around, and saw stuff that belonged in hospital.

“Hospital?” I guessed.

“Which one?”

That was a tricky one. I shook my head, and it made me feel sick.

Bits of memory filtered through. I remembered seeing Dr Michaels, and then being driven to Elstree.

“Elstree?” I said. I found I couldn’t remember the name of the clinic.

“Fine, and who am I?”

The face was still upside down, and I moved my head as I tried to focus.

I knew him.

“Mr Carpenter?”

The pain was seeping back. I moaned and tried to move. It didn’t help.

“Well done. You are going back to your room now, and then you can sleep. We’ll give you something for the pain, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watched the lights again, and then everything went away, again.
 
 
“Leanne, wake up honey,” a female voice was intruding.

With wakefulness came pain. I wanted to sleep.

“Leanne, come on, you need to wake up.”

I opened an eye. I was on my back, with four pillows behind me.

Jenny was opening the curtains. Winter sun streamed into the room. There was a huge bunch of flowers on the chest by the wall.

I stared at the flowers.

“They’re from your young man, Adam, is it?”

I nodded.

The simple action made me feel sick. I started retching, so Jenny slipped a small disposable kidney bowl under my chin. Some vile tasting yellow bile slithered into the dish.

“That’s the anaesthetic, it'll wear off as the day goes on.”

She took the dish and disposed of it, returning with another which she left on the table. She took my temperature and blood pressure.

“How’s the pain this morning?”

This morning? It dawned on me that the last memory I had, it was five o’clock on Christmas day.

“Um, dull ache, and I feel fuzzy.”

She smiled, and wrote on my chart.

“Well, Mr Carpenter will be in at noon. So I want you to try to de-fuzz yourself, as that’s only twenty minutes away now. Adam and his mother have called, as has a girl called Kathy. We’ve asked them to call back after the surgeon has been to see you.”

My head slowly cleared, but every move made me feel nauseous.

“What did he find?” I asked.

She smiled.

“Who knows? I’m sure he’ll tell you when he comes in. You gave him quite a scare though. It was quite exciting; it was like being back in casualty again.”

I closed my eyes as a wave of nausea hit me again.

“Leanne, stay awake, sweetie, you'll clear your head better that way.”

The dull ache from my lower abdomen was permanent, and no matter where I moved, it stayed constant. I felt underneath the sheet, and found tight bandaging with tubes coming out from the area.

“That’s a urinary catheter. The drips in your arm are fluid to prevent dehydration, and provide some pain relief.”

I became more aware of my surroundings.

“I’m thirsty.”

She gave me a small container with a straw.

“Just a small sip at a time, okay?”

I nodded.

The water wasn’t that cold, but nice all the same.

Jenny passed me my hairbrush.

“Do you want to do it, or shall I?”

I just looked at her.

She smiled, so I leaned forward a little so she could brush my hair.

“You have lovely hair. The colours vary from red to golden.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s the pain?”

“There,” I said, feeling unhelpful.

“Is it bearable?”

I shrugged. “Suppose.”

I was spared further interrogation by the arrival of Mr Carpenter. I always wondered why surgeons dropped the title ‘doctor’ in favour of ‘mister’ when they became surgeons.

“Well, how’s my girl today?” he asked, and sat in the chair by my bed.

“Um, not sure, dizzy, sick and bloody sore.”

“That’s only to be expected. All those will be gone in no time. I suppose you want to know how it all went?”

“It crossed my mind,” I said.

“Well, where shall I start? Right, first things first, the bleeding was due to a very strange phenomena. It seems that the hormones you’ve been taking triggered the development of certain bits and bobs that you had dormant inside you. One of those was a womb. You have one normal ovary, and one malformed one, which I’m afraid I had to remove.

“I removed your penis and testes, which were completely sterile and have never formed properly in any case.

“You actually have a cervix, vestiges of a vaginal canal, and unfortunately that was all. The lining of the womb decayed, and had no where to go. I suspected that you may have been experiencing something like a period, but the decaying matter was held inside you. It chose yesterday to break through a thin membrane and into your lower bowel. I’ve repaired the breach, so, hopefully you are now on the mend.

“We’ve pumped you full of antibiotics as there is always a risk of nasty infections when the bowel is involved. I have constructed your labia and clitoris out of existing penile and scrotal tissue, and cleared a passage through into your vagina. ”

He looked at me.

“Now, did I forget anything?”

I frowned. My brain was still fuzzy, and what he said confused me.

“Womb, ovary?”

He took my hand.

“Leanne, your deep rooted feelings that you were female was due to the single fact, you ARE female. Those small bits of male flesh that caused you so much trouble were exactly what you told your young man, an obstruction!”

I cried then, out of pure joy. Mr Carpenter knew it and as I glanced up, I saw tears in his eyes too.

I wept for many minutes, as I felt an enormous black cloud disperse and fly away. There was just blue sky above me now!
 
 
“I want the dressings to stay on for another day, and tomorrow, you should feel a little stronger, so we’ll come and take a wee peek at how you’re doing. The ache will go when the dressing and packing comes out. I can’t remove it yet, as the tissue is still inflamed.

“This is a private clinic, but due to the emergency you presented us, I have received authorisation from the NHS to treat you here. They are actually more than happy, as full SRS is much more expensive than the procedure I have done on you. By the way, you don’t need to take hormones any more, as it seems you're producing enough of your own.

“So, relax, sleep as much as you want, and I’ll see you in the morning. Happy Christmas, Leanne.”

I cried again, and gave him a great big hug. Of all the Christmas presents, I could never have wished for a more perfect one!

Jenny grinned at me.

“How does it feel?”

“Wonderful! I’m a person at last,” I said.

“No, you’ve always been a person, just not the one you wanted to be.”

I smiled, lay back and closed my eyes. I may have been in pain. I may have been feeling sick, but I was truly happy.
 
 
I passed on lunch. I just had a little water, and slept all afternoon.

At four thirty, another nurse woke me up and gave me a cup of tea. It tasted like nectar, and I nibbled a jaffa cake. The door opened and Adam and Mary came in.

I smiled, but immediately wondered if I looked a mess.

“Hi, Leanne. Shit, girl, you gave me a scare!” he said, as he very gingerly kissed me.

“I was scared too,” I admitted, as Mary gave me a gentle hug.

“Thanks for the flowers, they were the first thing I saw when I came round.”

“I’ve just spoken to the surgeon. He’s a lovely man, isn’t he?” Mary said.

“He certainly is. What did he say?”

Mary looked at Adam, uncertain if I wanted him to hear. I didn’t care, so she shrugged and continued.

“Well, it seems you had a blockage in your vaginal canal, and you weren’t excreting the dead womb linings from your periods. It backed up and burst through into you bowel. It sounded very nasty, I’m so pleased he knew what to do, and so quickly at Christmas too!”

Adam had a yucky expression on his face, and Mary and I burst out laughing at him.

“I had a nasty ovary too; he had to take it out to prevent it becoming cancerous.”

“Oh, you poor dear. Adam told me you’ve been holding all this secret for ages.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone else,” I said, feeling really stupid now.

“So, are you all fixed, now?” Adam asked.

“I hope so. The dressings come off tomorrow.”

Adam looked relieved and I had to smile. I knew what was going through his mind.

“I never gave you your Christmas Present,” he told me, and held out a small package.

It was a lovely pair of earrings.

I put them on and kissed him. I knew how tight money was for him too.

“I’ve bought you something too,” said Mary, and handed me an envelope.

It was a card with a set of five driving lessons.

“I’m fed up of running you two about. It’s time you got to be independent, and then Adam can buy a car,” she told us.

I gave her a hug, and asked Adam to bring in my birth certificate and an application form for a licence.

“I left your presents in my room. I forgot all about them, I’m sorry,” I said.

I wasn’t really with it, as I felt woozy and kept dropping off to sleep. I woke up to find Mary gone, but Adam was watching my TV.

“Hi, what’s the time?” I asked.

“Six. A nurse said she’d be back in a mo to ask about supper. Do you want anything?”

I wasn’t hungry, but was terribly thirsty.

“Just a drink.”

The nurse came in, and smiled.

“Ah, awake now, good. Do you want anything to eat?”

“I don’t think so. But I’d love a long cold drink.”

“How about a bowl of soup and some orange juice?”

“That sounds lovely, thanks.”

The soup was chicken and leek, and there were two small bits of white bread served with it. I managed the soup, but didn’t feel like the bread. The OJ came in a small carton with a straw. I finished it in seconds, and asked for another one.
 
 
It was weird not having to go to the loo, and I was fascinated watching the catheter bag fill up.

“You are so gross!” Adam said, just as Mary returned to pick him up.

He gave me a kiss and left me alone again.

I sat and watched the TV. In a way, it was a bonus being Christmas, as there were some really cool films on.

I was half way through Die Hard 2, when Kathy arrived.

I was thrilled, and she squealed with delight, giving me a huge hug.

“Hey, what the hell happened to you? I got this call for a really posh bloke who said he was a surgeon, and that you had been rushed in here. He said that as I was a special friend, it would be appropriate if I was able to come and see you!”

I told her everything, and her jaw nearly hit the floor.

“You mean you really are a girl, after all?”

“I suppose so.”

“No wonder it felt wrong!” she said, and giggled.

She sat on the bed next to me and held my hand. It was so good having her here with me. I needed a friend that understood, and she did.

“Does Adam know?” she asked.

“Yes, and he asked me if I was fixed, if you know what I mean, hint, hint!”

Kathy almost wet herself laughing.

“You know what would be kinda fun?”

“What?”

“Us, three in a bed with Adam.”

“Um, I don’t think so,” I said.

“Why not? I wouldn’t steal him from you.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Kathy, but what we have is special to me, and what I have with Adam is special. I don’t want to spoil either by getting complicated. Emotionally, I’m a bit of a wreck, so I don’t need complications.”

“Hey, I was kidding!” she said, and smiled. “Well, half kidding. I’ll ask again in a few months.”

We watched the film for a bit, and saw Bruce Willis get dirtier and more battered as he started eradicating the bad guys. The last scene with the Boeing 747 was so silly, we hooted with laughter.

I switched it off as the credits rolled up.

“So, you are one of us now?”

I just smiled.

“This is so cool! You should write a book, it’d be a best seller.”

“Kathy, I just want to live my life now.”

“What about your mum?”

I hadn’t thought about her at all. That was really sad, as here it was at Christmas, and I had no contact with what little family I had.

I shrugged.

“I guess she’ll find out eventually. I’m not that bothered to be honest.”

“That’s so sad!”

“Maybe, but hey, you and Adam are the nearest thing I have to family. You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives!”

“Cor, that’s bloody true!”
 
 
She stayed for another hour, and it was wonderful having her there. She said she’d let Badger’s know that I was sick, for me not to worry and just get better.

When she left, I felt tired and rather sore. I ached in places I didn’t know I had, and found it very hard to get comfortable.

I told the nurse.

She smiled.

“Well, we know when a patient is getting better, they start complaining,” she told me, so then I felt guilty.

She adjusted the pain relief and I slipped into sleep.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 4
 
 
To Be Continued...

 
Lee and Leanne were twins, but as a young baby, Leanne dies, leaving her twin with the firm belief that part of her remained with him for always.

As Lee grew in an unhappy home, struggling with a gender identity problem, events occurred that enabled Leanne to come alive again, in more ways than one.

Leanne got a job in a classy cocktail bar, called Badger's, that turned away hundreds for every one that was accepted.

She was a unique girl...

in more ways than one!

---

Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff: Badger's Set  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 9
 
 
The best moment?

Going to the loo for the first time, and seeing me as I had always wanted to!

The worst moment?

Not being able to get comfortable, but it didn’t last long.

The surgeon was right, a lot of the discomfort eased when the dressings and packing were removed.
 
 
I was in the clinic for three days. Once off the catheter and drip, they kept me in just to make sure there was no sign of infection from the bowel.

My new sexual equipment was slightly tender, but after a few days, was no problem at all. The stitches were self-dissolving, and I was told that once the swelling went down, and the hair grew back, there was nothing to indicate that I had not always been a girl. I had a letter from the surgeon, informing anyone who cared to read it, that I was ‘a genetic female, who having had extraneous tissue removed by means of a relatively simple surgical procedure, was therefore, unequivocally a fertile female.’

Mary and Adam took me home, and despite the filthy weather, the sun shone in my soul.

A cloud came along and tried to block the sun, but I refused to let it.

I received a letter from the solicitor, Mr Cowper.
 
 

Dear Leanne, I have to inform you that we have received correspondence from Richardson and Frobisher, solicitors in Nelson, New Zealand. They are instructed to contest the last will and Testaments of your maternal grandparents, Michael and Noreen Bannister, on behalf of your mother and half siblings. I have looked into this matter, and am satisfied that they do not have a case. There are several stated cases of a similar nature, and my advice is to do nothing at this time. I will, of course, deal with any future correspondence, and advise you to have no direct contact with the applicants in this matter. I will be only too happy to act on your behalf, and will await your instructions accordingly. Yours Sincerely,   R. Cowper.

 
 
“Buggers!” I said, and showed Adam the letter.

“Can they do that?”

“They can try. The utter sods! This is Frank’s doing. He’s not satisfied to take my mother, and everything that Dad left, but he wants everything else as well. The bastard! I’m not having it!”

I stomped off and phoned the solicitor.

Mr Cowper was quietly reassuring, so I was mollified to some small measure. I wasn’t allowed to sell the house until the wheels of justice had ground their weary course.

“How long will it take?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t like to say. Weeks, maybe longer.”

“Fuck!” I said, and heard him chuckle.

“Sorry, but this has really pissed me off. If I don’t have enough on my plate at the moment!”

I then told him about my medical excitement.

“Would you like me to instigate changes to your legal status?”

“Not at the moment. I have sort of taken care of that myself,” I said, unwilling to go into further details at this time.

I left him to take care of my interests, and realised that there would be a cost involved. Life was so damn expensive!
 
 
After a couple of weeks ‘taking things easy’, I was allowed to start taking exercise and went back to work. The girls were wonderful, and I got a super welcome. I don’t know how much Kathy had told everyone, but they were all so supportive, I got quite tearful.

I went straight into the middle bar, and found myself working with a girl called Suzy.

Suzy was half Chinese, and I thought she was really pretty. I was about five ten with heels, while she was only just five foot, with the heels, perhaps five two or three.

She was very quick, aware of routines with the bottles that I had never seen, let alone tried. She had worked in a bar in Hong Kong, and had come back to the UK with her parents after deciding that they didn’t like the communist takeover. Her father’s business still flourished, but he was under pressure to hand over to Chinese management in the ex-colony.

Her father was a Scotsman, and her mother was a diminutive Chinese lady. Suzy took after her mother, but had the sexiest green eyes. Set in her otherwise oriental face, they gave her the appearance of almost feline quality.

We worked well together, as she had the most explosive laugh. She’d giggle at the slightest thing, so any sexual innuendo or vaguely indecent suggestion would set her off.

My savings mounted up, and I started my driving lessons. The day my provisional licence came through, in the name of Leanne Rachel Roberts, was a very emotional day. Adam suggested I apply for a passport as well, so I did. Dr Michaels signed as the guarantor, and when it arrived I stared for ages at the back page.

There was a photograph of a really pretty girl, with the name, Leanne Rachel Roberts, and there, for all the world to see, was the one word that meant so much to me — FEMALE.

My secret was not a secret any more. Not like it was. I knew that I would probably come across people who had known me as Lee, but hey, did I care?
 
 
It actually happened in March.

Kathy, Suzy and I were spending an afternoon in serious female retail therapy - Shopping.

We were in the shopping centre at Watford, the Harlequin. I was browsing for some new jewelery.

The shop assistant came over to me.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I’m just looking, thanks.”

She smiled and returned to behind the counter, frowning slightly, and looking intently at me.

I saw a pretty pair of elephant earrings, and asked her how much they were.

“ £25.”

I asked to see them, so she took them out of the case.

I tried them on, and liked them immediately.

“Great, I’ll take them.”

She took them to the till, so I followed.

I paid cash and she gave me the receipt.

“Did you go to Luton Secondary?”

“Yes, why?”

“You are so familiar. I knew I’d seen you before. I’m Diane Baxter, I was always called Dee at school.”

“Leanne Roberts. I remember you, you were a year below me. You left after GCSEs.”

She frowned.

“Leanne? I don’t remember anyone called Leanne.”

“Memories are a real sod. How long have you been here?” I asked to change the subject.

“A year now. It’s pretty good. It’s steady money, and I get discounts on the jewellery. My boyfriend works in Watford, so it’s really convenient. What do you do?”

“I work at Badgers Nightclub, behind the bar,” I said.

“Really? That's wicked! I went there a few weeks ago. Do you chuck all those bottles around?”

“Yes, it’s part of our routine.”

“Is it a permanent job?”

“No, I start teacher training college in October, so we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Wow, a teacher, I couldn’t do that!”

“Well, I don’t know if I can, yet.”

She looked at me.

“Do you have a brother?”

“Why?”

“I remember a Lee Roberts, he looked just like you.”

“My twin. He’s in New Zealand now.

“How come I don’t remember you? I remember all the pretty girls in your year, as I wanted to be just like some of them.”

I shrugged.

“Maybe I wasn’t a pretty girl. I was a late developer. I have to go, as my friends are waiting for me. See you around, maybe.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to come to Badgers to see you at work.”

“You do that.”

I walked out. Shit! More lies! I didn’t seem to be able to run away from them. I met up with the others and soon forgot about her.

I had over three thousand in the bank, and a steady income trickling in from the rent of the house.

I was feeling secure for the first time in my life, and then I got a card from Jessica.

It was sent to my old house, and my tenants forwarded it to me at Mary’s place. It had a Koala on the front.
 
 

Hi Leanne (LOL!) How’s my best girlfriend? I love Oz, it’s brilliant. It is so hot here. Summer is over, and it was weird having Christmas lunch on Bondi Beach. Did you have a cool Christmas? I’ve met a brilliant bloke called Sean, and he is so much in love with me. He works for his father’s air conditioning company, so no worries about not finding work out here. I am still planning to tour the states from April through to July. I have been working and playing hard, so I have loads of $$$$ saved for uni. Mind you, Sean is muttering about marriage, so all that’s up in the air now. I haven’t forgotten Simon, but hey, what the eye doesn’t see, the heart can’t grieve about! I need to get some space, so USA is a good way to do that. Any chance we can meet up? I’d love to bum around America with you. Sean wouldn’t get jealous, as I told him you were my best girlfriend from way back. I don’t miss Britain at all, except you. Call me, remember the time difference. Lots of Love Jess XXXX

 
 
I smiled, as I could almost hear her Australian accent from here.

I called the number on the card.

A man answered.

“Hi, could I speak to Jess, please?”

“Sure, who’s calling?”

“Leanne, from England.”

“For real? Hang on.”

Jessica came to the phone.

“Leanne! Great, how are you?”

“Jess, I’m a girl,” I said.

“Yeah, I know you are.”

“No, I am a real girl. I was rushed to hospital on Christmas day, and it turns out I have been a girl all along. I just had some extra male bits that got in the way.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, and I was right, she had a slight Australian accent.

“Yes, absolutely. I have a boyfriend called Adam, and a girlfriend called Kathy…”

It all came tumbling out and I was crying. It was so good to speak to her again.

I was in danger of overheating Mary’s phone bill, so I stopped, and promised to be in touch when flights and an itinerary were more fixed.

“You’ll come?”

“If I can,” I said.
 
 
Adam handed in his notice with the builders. He had bulked up amazingly during his time with them. His muscles were fantastic, and he was so hunky now. Our relationship had changed too. I liked being with him, but he was becoming very possessive of me. I wanted to spread my new found wings and have fun, while he was more inclined to have cosy nights in.

We started having rows, nothing major, but he was prone to become moody if he didn’t get his own way. I often gave in, and we did have fun, but it wasn’t the same. Kathy and I always had Monday nights as a girls’ night out, and occasionally I stayed over at her flat.

If I said we weren’t lovers, I’d be lying.

We were, but neither of us were after a relationship, as Kathy said, it was more a training exercise, with her teaching me how to be a woman.

I was not able to have penetrative sex for at least eight weeks after the operation. I stretched that for Adam’s benefit to three months. Kathy wanted to introduce me to Mr Dildo, as a girl. I declined.

“I want the first time to be with a man, and a man I love,” I’d said. Kathy laughed and said she understood. It didn’t seem to stop us having fun.
 
 
When I told Adam I was planning to take four months to go to America, he became even more morose and sullen. I had had enough and blew my stack, and we had a flaming row. It ended up with me leaving the house and seeking solace in Kathy’s arms.

“That’s blokes for you!” she said, as we went to bed together.

“What?”

“Well, when they think you are all compliant and submissive, they think you are happy to follow their lead in everything. He doesn’t understand that you have just been granted a new lease of life and want to make the most of it. Perhaps you should break off with him, and see what happens.”

“But, we are sharing a bloody flat together this semester.”

“Tell him, that unless he gives you space, then it’s all off. See what happens.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“What’s he doing to you? He’s using emotional blackmail to make you feeling guilty for wanting your own life. Break it off. He will probably do what you want, and be the better for it!”

We made gentle love together and I fell asleep in her arms.
 
 
She woke me up with a kiss.

“You could always tell him about us,” she said with a smirk.

“Don’t!” I said.

I knew Kathy was sleeping with two other girls from the club, and had a sort of casual boyfriend called Miles. I had no hold on her, and neither did she on me. I didn’t feel like a lesbian, but I suppose I was. I had nothing in common with males, and adored being with a woman who knew how to treat me as I liked to be treated.

“So, this Miles,” I said.

“Not jealous?”

“No, I’m curious. You were attracted to me because I was a boy dressed as a girl. What’s his attraction?”

“He’s a TV. He gets off dressing as a girl, yet he isn’t gay. He adores girls, but likes pretending to be one at the same time. But, believe me, you were never a boy. You may have had the skin in the right place, but you are and always have been all woman!”

“Have you introduced him to Mr Dildo?” I asked, with a knowing smile. I knew what she was like.

“Of course, and he loved it, it took a while, but he begs for it now.”

“You are a very strange woman!” I told her and she laughed.

“Is it strange, making love to a man who looks like a woman?” I asked.

“Why, fancy it?”

“No, not really. I just get confused with the whole sex and gender thing. I was a boy, who wanted to be a girl, and now I’m a girl, I don’t know what if I actually want.”

“Leanne, you've been so bloody miserable for so bloody long, try and be happy. If something is nice and makes you feel good, and doesn’t hurt anyone, then sit back and enjoy it.”

She caressed my vagina, and I shivered with pleasure.

“You know what you really need?” she asked.

“What?”

“You need a real man to screw you rotten!”

I smiled, and pulled her on top of me.

“Until he comes along, you’ll have to do!”
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 4
 
 
To Be Continued...