Chris Drewett, a teenage transsexual, is caught dressing in his sister’s clothes by his mother. Faced with a problem she can’t deal with, she turns to her sister-in law, a doctor who practices nearby, and she starts Chris on an amazing and very surprising journey.

A gentle tale of teenage angst and discovery, and of relationships and conflicts. Where sexual awakenings cause confusion and tears as well as joy and lasting friendships.

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The Legal Stuff: Why Me?  © 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
 
 
The girl in the mirror pouted her red painted lips and thrust her pert young breasts out in a provocative manner. The mascara and blue eye shadow showing her blue eyes off to their best advantage, with her long lashes framing them perfectly.

The tight mini dress showed off her slim figure, while her flesh coloured tights displayed her long slender legs with the knee length high-heeled boots. Her blonde hair was cut in a chic pageboy style, so she cast a stray curl back from in front of her face with a practised flick, making her large hoop earrings shake. The red nail varnish highlighted her long slender fingers, as she blew a kiss at her reflection.

The front door banged, shattering that perfect illusion, as I felt real panic rise in my chest. My heart raced and I felt light-headed. I raced across the landing, slamming my bedroom door behind me.

“Chris?” my mother shouted.

I stood behind my door, with the sound of my heart pumping in my ears. My breasts were rising and falling. I was shaking like a jelly.

“Chris, where are you?” she said, as I heard her climbing the stairs.

What was she doing home?

She was due to be gone for three hours.

“Chris, are you all right?” she asked. I heard her approach the door.

The door opened. We stared at each other, each with horror on our faces.
 
 
I ought to explain.
 
 
My name is Chris Drewett, and that is Christopher Drewett, not Christina or some other female derivation of Christopher. Although I dearly wish, with all my heart and soul, that it could have been a female version.

I am, however, as fate decreed, a twelve year old boy, and my mother has just caught me dressing in my sister’s clothes.

I had been cross-dressing since I was nine, when I started wearing my older sister’s underwear. Shelly was sixteen months older than I, but we were now the same size, in height at least. I was the youngest of three children, with Rob, at sixteen, being the eldest.

It had started with just a pair of panties and then the occasional bra. But over the years I had progressed to full makeup and the works. I would wait until I had the house to myself, which was not as often as I would have liked, but then I dressed for as long as I could.

It was never a sexual thing, as I didn’t do it to get turned on, I did it so I could feel and look how I wanted to feel and look. I had to admit, the sexual fantasies came recently, as I imagined a boy kissing me. I never experienced an erection, nor did I ever have any form of discharge. In fact, I don’t think I ever had an erection in my life, but then I wasn’t through puberty yet, as my mother said, I was a late developer.

I suppose I first thought, no it was stronger than that, I first believed that I should have been a girl when I was four. by six I knew it for certain, so I asked my mother how I could change.

“I’ve done with being a boy, I want to be a girl now,” I’d told her.

A series of sessions with a child psychologist was unable to eradicate that particular desire from my mind, and indeed, by the time I was nine, it was the most permanent, all pervasive thought in my brain for all my waking hours, and in most of my dreams.

The psychologist told my mother I would grow out of it - fool that he was. My father was in the petrochemical industry, spending much of the time travelling the globe. The disadvantage was that I was without an effective male role model for much of the time (Rob didn’t count). The advantage was that I spent lots of time with my sister and her friends. Rob, being four years older, was out of my social scene, so we rarely spent time together. When we did, he would treat me badly, teasing me about my effeminate looks and un-macho and inadequate ways.

Rob was a big lad and excelled in all the usual sports that young men are expected to enjoy. Another advantage, if indeed it was such, was that my father’s salary was such that private schooling was accepted for all his children. By the time Rob was thirteen, I was nine, so he was moved up to his senior school, leaving me at the prep-school, now unhampered by a bully of an elder brother, whose example I never seemed to be able to emulate.

Such was my predicament, that although my desire to be a girl was ever-present in my brain, I was quite able to hide such feelings, in order to enjoy a relatively normal existence. I had several friends and took part in most normal activities, as did everyone else. I was not brilliantly sporty, but average in most things, except swimming, in which I excelled. I had a streamlined physique, so was proud at being the fastest in my year.

Academically I was well above average, but deliberately tended to under achieve, thereby avoiding shining out in front of everyone. I liked to be as anonymous as possible, so was content to be in the middle band of life.
 
 
Back to the present and this dreadful confrontation.
 
 
My mother recovered before I did, and sat on the bed. I stood there, tears falling down my cheeks, making the black mascara run in small dark rivulets on my face.

“Oh, Chris! My poor baby, why?” she said.

I shook my head, unable to speak. I was overwhelmed with a mixture of guilt, shame and shock. I was still shaking.

She tried to catch my hand, but I held it out of her reach, I could not face her touching me, not yet.

“Chris, oh God. It’s all my fault. If only we had persisted with that doctor.”

I stared at her, the shock abating and anger taking over.

“Doctor? Don’t you understand? I’m a girl. I’ve always been a girl inside. There’s not a doctor in the land who can help me! Unless he cuts my miserable little prick off,” I almost screamed at her.

She looked at me, as tears were now streaming down her face as well.

One consolation, I thought, Shelly was away at pony camp, while Rob was away with the army cadets. He was a Cadet corporal, and was intending to apply for a Regular Army Commission when he left school.

We looked at each other for a while. I stopped crying and saw my reflection. The makeup had run, so I took a tissue and wiped the worst off. My long hair was my own, as it was one affectation that I had been permitted. It was sort of fashionable for boys to have reasonably long hair, as it was 1970 after all! My school was not that tolerant, but it had been five weeks since my last haircut, so it was relatively long, over my ears and collar. I had not had my ears pierced, and the hoops were clip-ons.

“Sit down Chris. It’s time we had a talk.”

I sat.

She took my hand, so I let her hold it. She stared at my nails, all shaped and painted. It was a girl’s hand.

“What a mess,” she said.

I said nothing. What could I say?

“You still want to be a girl?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“How badly?”

“With all my heart,” I said. It was true.

She brushed my hair away from my face. I used to comb it back when Christopher, but brushed it in a different style as Christina.

I stared at her, sullenly and feeling stubborn.

She smiled, with little humour, but still a smile.

“Well, you’re too pretty to be a boy, really.”

I looked down, as I could feel that the tears were near again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” I said.

“Perhaps it is best. How long has this been going on?”

“Feeling like a girl? All my life.”

“No, this dressing and make up.”

“Three years.”

“Oh dear God. You’re just a baby.”

“I’m twelve, so I’m old enough to know my mind,” I said, feeling a little defiant strength.

She smiled again, wiping some of the dark streak from my face.

“Alright, young lady, what the hell do we do now?” she asked, so I looked at her in surprise.

“Yes, you heard. This is beyond me. I admit that I’d much prefer for it not to be happening, but it is, and I know enough to know that it’s unlikely that you’ll ever grow out of this, so we have got to make some decisions together, you and I.”

“But Dad?”

“Dad is not here and, to be quite honest, he would have even less of a clue than me. So, this is something that the two of us are going to have to sort out between us.”

“How?”

“Good question, so, let’s start with that. How do we sort this out?” she asked.

I shrugged.

“Okay, let’s look at this in bits. What options are open to us?” she asked.

I shrugged again. She looked a little cross, with her voice displaying the same impatience.

“Come on Chris, this is your life we’re talking about. This isn’t a case of childish dressing up. This is serious. What options do we have?”

“Keep things as they are?” I offered.

“Okay. If we do that, what happens? You dress in secret, probably getting caught again, and possibly in more embarrassing situations. The problem is that it isn’t a secret anymore, as I know about it. So, then you try to live a dual life, even forming a relationship with someone, pretending to be something and someone you most probably aren’t. What happens then?”

I didn’t like this conversation. It was too grown-up, too much like being made to choose between a hard place and a rock. My mother immediately saw through me.

“Chris, like it or not, you have a major problem. You can’t run away and hide, nor can you pretend it doesn’t exist. I am your mother and I love you dearly, so just remember that, whether you end up Christopher or Christina!”

I could hardly believe she said that. It made me think. All my fears and all my frustrations seemed to well up, so I found myself sobbing in my mother’s arms.

She held me for what seemed ages. She stroked my hair, holding me close, telling me that it was all right. Eventually, with an enormous weight lifted from my shoulders, I stopped sobbing and sat up.

“Finished?” she asked.

I nodded, blowing my nose into a tissue.

“Good, now go and wash your face, you look like a vampire’s victim, so get all that stuff cleared away,” she said, so I did as she asked. I came out of the bathroom, to find that she was waiting on the landing.

“Come on, my girl, downstairs. We can chat and you can help me get supper as we go!”

“Like this?”

“Do you feel uncomfortable like that?”

I shook my head. She reached out and straightened my ‘breasts’.

“What are these, socks?” she asked.

I nodded again. She smiled as she shook her head.

She went downstairs so I followed, seeing my reflection and enjoying the feel of walking about dressed as I wanted to be. With her accepting me like this, it seemed to make it almost real.

She gave me an apron, so I put it on. She told me to chop an onion, so I got out a chopping board and proceeded to do just that.

“Right, we’ve looked at the ‘pretend nothing happened’ option, and it won’t work, because it has happened and I am not prepared to allow you to muck up your life like that. So what else can we do?” she said.

“Doctor?”

“Okay, for what? The last one didn’t work, so will another psychiatrist persuade you that this is just a phase you will grow out of?”

I shook my head.

“Fine, so what then?”

“I could become a girl?” I said, very tentatively.

“Sweetie, you are a girl, you know it, and I suppose deep down I’ve known it for years.”

I stared at her in surprise.

“Don’t look so shocked! You kids, you think we are all so stupid. I’ve suspected this for some time, and just look at you, you aren’t exactly the most convincing boy, are you?”

“I suppose not.”

“So, tell me, what do you think a doctor could do for you?”

“Physically, I mean, he could cut me, down there.”

“You would go for a surgical sex change?”

I nodded.

She took the chopped onion, putting it in a pan with some olive oil. Then she added some mince.

“Shit, Chris, why can’t you just suffer from an in-growing toenail?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, as the tears almost started again.

“Oh, Chris, don’t cry again. I can’t stand any more tears. We have to use our brains on this.”

“Would Aunt Eileen have any ideas?” I asked.

Eileen was my father’s younger sister. She was a G.P. in a Medical Centre in Guildford, the town near where we lived, so she lived about fifteen miles away.

My mother looked at me and smiled.

“Hmm, well done. Yes, she might at that.”

With instructions to add some tomatoes and keep stirring, she went off to phone her sister-in-law.

Half an hour later, with the dinner almost ready, Aunt Eileen walked into the kitchen, unannounced, as usual.

“Hi Caz, hello Chris, well, well, what a pretty pickle have you got into?” she said.

Aunt Eileen was quite tall and thin, with long dark hair. She was thirty-eight, just a year younger than her brother, my Dad, but was the same age as my mother, who was called Carol, or Caz to her friends.

She looked at me in the dress and boots, and smiled.

“Well, at least you look very attractive. Come on, let’s you and I have a little chat,” she said, taking my hand and leading me into the sitting room.

Still holding my hand, she sat next to me on the sofa and asked lots of questions, the kind that needed long answers, which involved me having to think carefully about each answer.

She wasn’t our G.P., as she decided that it wasn’t right for us to be treated by an aunt, so we saw another doctor in the same surgery. I had not seen a doctor for at least four years.

After our chat, she asked me to take her up to my bedroom. There she asked me to undress, and then she examined me carefully.

It took quite a long time, as she was very thorough.

“Okay, Chris, get dressed again, there’s a love,” she said, but I hesitated.

She looked at me, smiling.

“Oh Chris, you sad poppet. You’re more a girl than we all suspected. Put the dress back on, I have a feeling you may have to get used to it.”

“Why?”

“I’m not telling you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t sweetie, as I might be wrong. But all I will say is you’re may not be the boy you thought you were!”

I grinned, slipping back into the dress. Eileen left me alone, so I even reapplied a little makeup. I wasn’t planning to cry again.

I went down and found the two women in deep conversation. I paused by the door, and heard the words… “ …female pelvic structure!”

My mother saw me, so she waved me to come in.

“Chris, this is more complicated than we thought. Eileen thinks that you may need to see a specialist.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure if you’d understand, and, as I said, I may be wrong.”

“I’ll understand. I’ve read a lot about transsexuals. I’ve read Christine Jorgensen’s book, and The Roberta Cowell Story.”

“Okay, Chris, you show some signs of developing the beginnings of the secondary characteristics of a girl, but not those of a boy. You have what at first glance appears to be the genitalia of a male, but some of the physical features of a girl. In other words you have what looks like a penis, albeit quite small and immature, however, I can’t feel much where your testes should be. They’re either still up inside your body, as I can feel some uneven lumps in what should be your scrotum, but nonetheless something is there. More importantly, your body shape seems more female,” said Aunt Eileen.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I was telling your mum that your hips and pelvis seem almost more female than male, so I think you should see a specialist so tests can be made.”

I looked at my mother, and saw she was worried now.

I sat down, feeling lost. What had started as a kind of game was turning into a nightmare.

“Chris, just answer me one question?” Eileen asked.

“What?”

“If you could push a button and change yourself into the person you would want to live your life as, bearing in mind if you choose male, you would have no desire to be or dress as a female, which would it be?”

“A girl!” I said, without hesitation.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what I am, it hasn’t anything to do with clothes, they are just on the outside. On the inside I am a girl.”

She smiled at me.

“Okay. Look, it will take me a few days, as I will have to talk to your own GP and explain things. Then I have to find the right specialist, and as it is July, it will probably all have to wait until the end of the holidays.”

I was due to go back to school at the beginning of September, for my last year at my junior school. I was attending a private school, called a prep school, at which I stayed until I was thirteen. I could see this dragging on well into the school year, and I had the common entrance exam to my senior school to sit in the following summer.

Eileen stayed for supper, when we had the spaghetti bolognaise. I still wore the dress, which felt so right. I noticed that the other two kept glancing at me, smiling and shaking their heads.

“What?” I asked, after the eighth time.

“Oh, Chris, if you could see yourself,” said my mother.

“I look stupid,” I declared, miserably.

“Not at all, just the opposite. I find it hard to believe you haven’t always been as you appear now. You are so feminine and naturally so, it beggars belief.”

Suddenly, it was if the sun had just come out and shone directly onto me. I had just been paid the loveliest compliment and, I knew with all certainty, where my destiny now lay.
 
 
Eileen left after supper, leaving my mother and I to wash up the dishes.

We sat and watched some TV together, sitting on the sofa with our arms around each other. I couldn’t remember feeling so happy. Finally, she stood up and switched the TV off.

“Okay, we need to set some ground rules,” she said.

“What?”

“Chris, the rest of your life is an open book, in which the pages have yet to be written. But if we aren’t careful now, those pages could be spoiled and ripped before we get very far.”

I frowned. My mother was a writer, so would often exist in a different world to the rest of us. She was there now.

“You’re in a very dangerous place. Our beloved society doesn’t like people who don’t conform to one thing or another. Being a boy, dressing as a girl, and wanting to be a girl is not something that will be easy to do or be. So we have to have rules for your safety and general well being.

“One: While physically a boy, dressing up is for special times, and not to be over-done.

“Two: If you have to go down the road of transition, then it is carefully handled, with no sudden revelations. We take everything slowly.

“Three: You and I are the only ones who know. Apart from Eileen of course. Shelly, Rob and Dad, are not to know until we know more as far as the medical situation becomes clear and final decisions are to be made. And even then, I think it wise to keep things to a minimum.”

“Four: We talk through everything, so no decisions are made without these talks, agreed?”

I nodded.

“Okay, and if you are to dress, then you dress properly, so none of this looking like a teenage tart! Tomorrow you and I are going shopping, so we will get you your own clothes, so no more using Shelly’s clothes.”

I could hardly believe my ears. Was mum really offering to get me girl’s clothes?

She told me to take off the clothes I had on, and she put them in the washing machine. I was sent up for a bath, so streaked upstairs in the nude. While the bath was running I looked at my naked body in the full-length mirror.

Eileen was right, although slim, I had comparatively broad hips and a very narrow waist. My shoulders were not broad like Rob’s had been at my age, while my legs and arms were slender and graceful. I had no real boobs though, and my hated little willy nestled between my legs, like a malevolent little snake with its little sac hiding whatever was inside.

I tucked them all out of sight, holding one arm across my chest, as if hiding my boobs. I looked so much like a girl that it hurt!

The areas around my nipples were slightly sensitive and a little puffy, and I felt tissue under the skin. I rather hoped that I was growing breasts, but that would be an awful problem for me at school in the showers after games. As I looked at them, I realised that they were slightly protruding. Not much, but like a girl who was just starting to grow breasts. I felt a butterfly in my tummy, which was a little flutter of uncertain excitement.

I had my bath and, when I got out, I wrapped my self in the large towel. I wound my wet hair in a smaller towel just like I had seen my sister do it.

I sat on the edge of my bed, and was drying my hair when mum walked in.

“Bloody hell, Chris, you look so like your sister, it’s uncanny,” she said.

She handed me a nightdress.

“Here, put this on. You may as well start to know what it is like to be a girl. I may be way of beam here, but your happiness is so important to me, and I know that to try to smother the girl in you could well be a tragic mistake.”

I hugged her so hard. I was so lucky to have someone who understood.

“I don’t understand what you are going through, but I want you to know that I am here for you. Okay?”

I nodded.

“I don’t understand either,” I mumbled.

I put on my nightie, while my mother brushed my hair.

“Another thing, this is getting cut properly. You have split ends and it’s a real mess.”

She kissed me goodnight and I snuggled into bed, the nightie riding up under my armpits. I grinned, pulling it down, enjoying the feel of the garment. I swore never to wear pyjamas again, unless absolutely necessary.
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
I slept brilliantly, only waking when Mum pulled my curtains and allowed the bright shaft of sunlight to shine straight onto my pillow.

“Come on sleepyhead, we have a lot to do,” she said. She gave me a pair of girl’s panties, and walked out without saying anything else.

I put the panties on, and then dressed in a white tee shirt and jeans with open sandals on my feet. Mum came back in and helped me brush my hair into a unisex style and told me not to put makeup on. I had some breakfast, after which we were soon in the car, heading for the shops in Woking.

We went there because we rarely came here to shop. Mum was wary of meeting anyone we knew, so wanted to keep me as safe as she could. The school I went to was many miles away and no one from this area went to it, as far as I knew.

“Now, Chris, with your hair like this, you appear a pretty normal girl to me. But less so as a boy, but still within acceptable bounds, effeminate, yes, but not overtly so. Your name is Chris, so if anyone asks, and they believe you to be a girl, just tell them it is short for Christina. If you meet anyone you know, just be yourself, okay?”

“Okay!” I said, and stared at my nails. Mum had made me take off the varnish, but I could see little residues by the cuticles.

“How do you feel about people thinking you are a girl?”

“I like the idea. I just wish I really was one.”

“Well, most of your movements and gestures are very feminine. Do you do it naturally, or is it something you put on?”

“I’m just me.”

“Well, it’s not very boyish.”

“Most of the boys I know think I am gay anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Last term, the top form all called me Tina.”

“Why”

“Because Rob used to call me Christina, and the Tina bit stuck.”

“Was Rob a terrible bully?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry. I will speak to him.”

“You said that every holiday, but every time you told him off he beat me up more.”

“Do you think that you are gay?”

“I think of myself as a girl, and I see girls as friends, but boys are different,” I said, going red.

“What a mess. It’s no wonder we are so screwed up.”

We arrived and parked the car.

The first stop was a clothes shop.

Mum went in and I was rather subdued. I was certain they would know I was a boy.
 
 
She just started looking at the racks, and kept asking me if I liked this top, or that skirt. Eventually she turned on me.

“Chris, come on, get a grip! We’re here for you, so loosen up and get with it. If we’re to get through this, you have to at least make an effort to persuade the world to believe in you. That is the battle, if they believe you, you will make it. If you don’t believe in yourself, how the hell do you think others will?”

I shrugged, but took an interest.

Actually the clothes were great, and I was able to choose some I really liked. One of the assistants came up.

“Can I help you, ladies?” she said.

“Yes,” Mum said, “Chris here has grown out of all her clothes, and she needs some new stuff, including underwear.”

“Okay, let’s do some measuring,” said the girl.

I stood, with my face beetroot red, as she measured me. I looked down as she wrapped the tape around my chest, and saw that my slight breasts were just pushing the material of my tee shirt out.

“Fine, you’re quite tall, how old are you?”

“Twelve,” I said.

“You must be 5’5”, and you have a super figure. I wish I had your waist!”

She went off and returned carrying an assortment of underwear.

“Here is a training bra. You’re starting to sprout, so I remember just how sensitive it is and how embarrassed you must feel. This just gives you some padding, protecting the nipples and enhances what you have got.” She opened the packet and showed me how to adjust it. I went off and put in on in the fitting room.

I stood and looked at myself in the mirror, just with the white bra and panties on. I looked like a girl. I had tucked you know what up and between my legs, so there was no telltale bulge to give me away.

The curtain went back, and Mum stood there, with the assistant hovering in the background.

“Well?” Mum asked.

She could tell by my smile what I felt. She smiled.

“Right, try these on,” she said, handing me an armful of skirts and tops.
 
 
An hour later we left the shop. I was wearing one of the skirts and a top, with my new underwear. The next stop was a shoe shop. Mum was quite strict with me, so kept me from getting any really high heels, but I followed her advice.

“You’re only twelve, so stop trying to look twenty,” she said.
 
 
By lunchtime, I had had my hair done, a full facial and makeover, and was clad from head to toe in the most wonderful clothes and shoes. I had several bulging carrier bags, which were all mine.

We went into The Plaice, a brilliant fish and chip shop, with a restaurant above it.

We ordered, so I painted my nails while we waited for the food to come.

Mum just watched me with a smile on her face. I knew I was grinning from ear to ear.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you so animated and happy,” she said.

I was blowing on my nails to dry them, so I just smiled. It said it all.

The young waiter brought our food.

“Here you go, ladies. Whose is the cod?” he asked.

“That’s mine,” I said, and he smiled, placing it in front of me and giving my mother her plaice.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” he said to me, as he brought the tartar sauce over.

“Oh, you must have missed me,” I said, as my mum shook her head and smiled.

“Nah, I’d never miss someone like you. Are you local?”

“Not really, just passing through,” I said, and Mum nodded, discreetly.

“Pity. Enjoy your meal,” he said, leaving us alone.

“Tart!” Mum said.

“Why?”

“You know how to use what you’ve got. I’ll say that for you,” she said.

I just smiled. I was so happy!

Mum was great, she would gently tell me when I was a bit too boyish - like eating too much too quickly or taking too large a stride when walking. But for most of the time, she seemed amazed as how naturally I behaved as a girl.
 
 
After lunch she took me to have my ears pierced, from which I came away with small sleeper studs in both earlobes. She then drove us home.

I gave my mother a private fashion show of all my new clothes, as she sat and watched me with a sad smile on her face. I stopped and sat beside her on the sofa.

I took her hand.

“You have no idea how happy I feel like this,” I said.

“I do. You see, it used to crack me up seeing you look so miserable for most of the time. As I told you, I actually suspected your dressing up ages ago, so yesterday I came back on purpose to see whether you were.”

I looked down.

“I’m sorry,” I said, but she put her arm around me.

“Sweetie, don’t be. It isn’t something you chose, and you didn’t ask for it, so there is nothing to be sorry about. We just have to sort it.”

The phone rang, so I jumped up and answered it. It was Aunty Eileen and she wanted to speak to Mum.

I took my stuff upstairs, putting them away nicely in the wardrobe.

When I went back down, mum was just hanging up the phone.

“You have an appointment this afternoon with a specialist. He’s off on holiday tomorrow, so he’s seeing us as a favour to your aunt. He’ll see us at St. Margaret’s hospital at four.”

It was three now.

“Will I have to change?” I asked.

“There isn’t time, so you will have to go as you are.”

I was wearing a dark blue denim miniskirt, tights and a red top, which was just a boob tube. There was denim jacket that matched the skirt.

A few moments later I was having a severe case of the wobblies in the passenger seat of the car.

We arrived at the hospital and walked into the relevant wing. My mother approached the desk and asked for Mr Sweeney.

“Who is the appointment for?” the woman asked.

My mother put her hand on my shoulder and looked at me.

“Chris, here. I’m Chris’s mother, Mrs Drewett.”

“Fine. If you and your daughter will have a seat, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

We sat, and I was shaking again.

“Calm down, you’ll be fine,” Mum said.

She picked up a magazine and calmly flicked through the pages. She told me later she was as nervous as I was, but wanted me to feel calm.

“Mrs Drewett? The doctor will see you and Chris now,” a nurse announced, and led the way.

We followed the nurse into the consulting room. She left us alone with the doctor.

Mr Sweeney was in his late fifties and was bald. He was sitting at his large mahogany desk, but all I could see was the top of his head, as he was bent over writing.

“Sorry about this, just finishing some notes before I forget them all,” he said without looking up.

Then he looked up. He had a nice face with kind eyes. He looked at Mum and stood up, smiling. Then he looked at me, and his mouth opened in surprise.

“Well. Now I can see why Eileen was in such a tizzy. It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Jonathon Sweeney.” He shook our hands, and we all sat on some easy chairs at one end of the room.

He looked at me closely and smiled.

“It seems you’re here not before time, young lady. Now, why don’t I have a chat with you on your own first, and then we will bring Mum back in?”

Mum smiled and went out, and Mr Sweeney sat opposite me.

“Okay, tell me all about it,” he said.

So I did. It took twenty minutes, with his questions and half a box of tissues.

“Thanks. Now I need to see the physical evidence,” he said, so I went behind the screen and got undressed. A nurse hovered in the background.

Aunt Eileen had been thorough, but it was a casual glance compared to the examination that Mr Sweeney put me through. He poked and prodded, and put fingers where no fingers had ever been before. He took measurements, noting everything down in his little book.

I lay down on the couch, with a blanket over the top half, as he probed around my genitals.

Every now and again he would suck air through his teeth, or say “Hmm!”

He took a substantial amount of blood from my arm, which he placed into several small vials, which he sealed.

Finally, he took his glasses off.
 
 
“Okay, you can get dressed again, and we’ll get your mum,” he said, leaving me alone to dress.

A few minutes later we were all in the easy chairs again, and Mr Sweeney was looking at his notes.

“Right, Mrs Drewett. Firstly, you did the right thing. Young Chris is not just someone who likes dressing up as a girl. So you can put any idea out of your mind that we just have a case of transvestism here.

“Chris, you need not feel guilty about what you feel you are. I believe there is a medical problem here, which is causing you a lot of confusion and distress. I have taken a sample of your blood, so that various tests can be done on your hormone levels, and other things. But until I get those test results, anything I say may be pure conjecture.

“I suspect to find one, two or all of three things. One, you are partly hermaphrodite, or inter-sexed as we say these days. This means that you may have certain female bits inside you, which are producing female hormones. Just how much remains to be seen.

“Two, you actually are a genetic female, with XX chromosomes, or abnormal, with perhaps XXY, this again will be verified by the tests.

“Three, your male genitalia, is not actually functioning. In fact I don’t think your testicles are even properly formed. I could feel some unusual lumps and bumps, also there appears to be an abnormal depression just between your legs, where a vagina should be, so I suspect that some female plumbing may be in place just beneath the surface.”

I stared at him.

“How long will these tests take to come back?” Mum asked.

“Ah, there’s the rub. These are recent innovations, and still in the early days. Lots of people are taking samples, but only a couple of laboratories are testing these samples in this country. So I doubt whether the results will be back for about eight to ten weeks!”

I was due to go back to school in five weeks. The disappointment must have been on both our faces.

“Two things are certain. The first is that Chris is physiologically closer to being a girl, and judging by how she responded to me, she is psychologically a girl, and the second is that there is no point making her be the boy she obviously isn’t,” he said.

“What about schooling? She is due to go back for her final year at Fromley Hall.”

“I know it, good school. Well, I don’t actually think she would fit into an all-boys’ school.”

“But a girls’ school wouldn’t want her either. Not yet, any way.”

“True. Then I suppose she will have to stay at Fromley Hall as a boy, until such time as it is no longer tenable.”

I shook my head.

“I get teased rotten anyway, I don’t think I would be able to take it.”

“Then there has to be another way. I actually think that Chris is developing as a normal girl, which means that she may well have ovarian development which is triggering female secondary characteristics, so in effect is changing her into a young woman. If this is indeed the case, then we may have to operate on the hurry up as she may well start menstruation but has no outlet for the used womb lining. But as I said, until the tests come back, this is pure conjecture,” Mr Sweeney said.

“So, what do we do in the meantime?” Mum asked, rather exasperated.

“Well, I am referring Christina to a psychologist, and this is different to the last time, as she is there to assess and, if necessary, prepare the subject for any transition. Although, I don’t actually feel that Chris will need much help. The psychologist is also there to help me decide the best course of treatment. I’m a surgeon, dealing with the physical side of things. Janice deals with the mind, but I do not foresee Christina having any problems in that area. To be frank, I really thought she was a girl when I first saw her,” he said, smiling at me.

“One thing. Your path is not going to be an easy one. You’re young and you have a supportive mother, so be brave and strong. Make no mistake, you will have a tough time ahead.”

We left the hospital no further forward really. We knew very little more, if anything there was more uncertainty. I was now in limbo, neither a boy nor a girl, and the threat of having to go back to school filled me with dread.

Mum was quiet as she drove home. I didn’t want to talk either. I had been so happy, but now I was confused.

“Mum, if I’m not a real boy, and not a girl, what am I?” I asked, as we went inside.

She turned and gave me a cuddle.

“You are Christina, my daughter,” she said, and we both cried.
 
 
Shelly was due back from Pony Club Camp, so Christina, her clothes, ear rings and makeup were shut away. Then Rob returned, swaggering in, full of himself, as usual. I truly hated Rob, so avoided him as much as I could. I spent my time riding my bike in the nearby woods, and making model aircraft and boats. I had a couple of friends, so occasionally they would come over. We were all the same age.

Bruce was at school with me, and was the nearest thing I had to a best friend. Mike was just someone who I had known for ages. He went to a different school, a state school, so I was jealous, as he didn’t board. The good thing was that we got longer holidays than him.

One day we were all in my room, trying to fit the masts and rigging onto one of my model ships, when Bruce asked me a question.

“Chris, how come you look so much like a girl?”

I stared at him, and although my heart was racing, I was calm on the outside.

I shrugged.

“Do I?”

“A bit. It is more the way you move. Doesn’t he Mike?”

“I dunno. I hadn’t thought about it,” Mike said.

“Not that it matters, I just wondered if anyone else noticed.” said Bruce.

“Have you had your ears pierced?” Mike asked.

I went redder. “Yeah, but Mum says I shouldn’t have.”

“I think that’s cool, my mum would go spare, too. I suppose you do look a bit girly.”

“I sometime feel I should have been a girl. But I’m not, and unless I wake up and find some has stolen my willy, I’m just me,” I tried to be honest, and play down the situation.

They laughed, so the moment passed, but I wondered why Bruce had asked me. Later, after Mike had gone home, I had Bruce to myself. We were in the woods, climbing a tree.

“Bruce?”

“What?”

“Why did you ask me about looking like a girl?”

“I dunno. It occurred to me several times. You walk like a girl, and even sound like one. I think you would make a very pretty girl if you tried.”

I was shocked, but pleased.

“Cor, are you gay or what?” I asked, feigning disgust.

He reddened, so I knew I had hit a nerve of sorts.

“No, you are just a mate, that’s all. And I wondered why I kept seeing you as a girl,” he said, slightly embarrassed.

I felt immediately sorry for him.

“Bruce can you keep a secret?”

“What?”

“I mean it! This mustn’t go beyond us.”

“I promise it won’t. What?”

“I have always thought I should have been a girl, so I went to the doctor a couple of days ago, and I may be more girl than boy.”

He stared at me.

“He says that I may have to have an operation to make me one or the other, and if I get a choice, I will choose to be a girl!”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I just have bits of both and they will need sorting.”

“Really? Can I see?”

I laughed.

“On the inside, dummy.”

“Oh. So you said you feel like a girl, is that all the time?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Even now?”

I nodded again.

“So, do you fancy me?” he asked with a grin.

“I don’t know. I don’t think like that when I have to be a boy.”

“So, do you ever dress as a girl?”

“Sometimes. When there is no one at home. My Mum knows and bought me some clothes and stuff. She took me to the doctor. They are doing some tests, but I won’t know the results until after term starts.”

“Could I see you dressed as a girl?” he asked, his face serious.

“Why?”

“I’m curious, that’s all.”

I looked at him.

“You asked me if I fancied you, do you fancy me or something?”

He reddened again, but went all quiet.

“You do!”

“Yeah, but not as a boy. I started trying to imagine you as a girl, and it made me feel stramge. I just kept thinking of it, and that’s why I asked you. I don’t think that I’m gay, as I don’t fancy boys at all. It’s just I see you as a girl. It’s weird.”

I looked at him, and he seemed very embarrassed.

“Chris?”

“Don’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Then we each have a secret then,” I said, and he smiled and nodded.

“I’ll see when my brother and sister are away. Maybe I can dress a bit before term starts,” I said.

“I’d like that,” he said. I felt strangely confused.

We cycled back home and Bruce left after tea.
 
 
Four days later, Shelly was going to stay with a friend from Pony Club, as they had an event over the weekend, so she was going to be away for three days, Friday to Sunday. Rob had disappeared to Newquay, as a friend wanted him to go and try surfing. I was alone with Mum, again.

Dad had been back and had gone again. I loved my Dad, but he was rarely at home, so I often wondered why Mum put up with him. I think she suspected he had another woman, but the financial situation was sound, and when he was home he was great. Mum was always happy, but each time, he seemed just to upset things, as he wanted things his way, as when he was gone, they were run differently.

I asked if Bruce could come and stay.

Mum looked at me.

“I thought you’d want to be alone so Christina could come out again?”

I blushed, and she frowned and raised an eyebrow.

“Bruce asked why I looked like a girl,” I said.

“And you thought you’d show him?”

I nodded.

“Bit of a risk, isn’t it?”

I smiled. “I have a secret of his, so I think it is okay.”

“Chris, don’t make a mistake, you have to be patient.”

“I know, but I want to have one friend as Christina.”

“Maybe, but a boyfriend?”

I looked at her, and she relented.

“Okay, but be careful, you’re playing with fire.”

I went and called Bruce and he asked his parents. They agreed, and he was allowed to come and stay the weekend.

I went to my room and changed into my favourite skirt and top. My hand was shaking so much when I put my makeup on, that I had to walk away and come back to it, otherwise it would have been all over my face. The hardest thing was putting the studs in my ears, as the holes had almost healed up.
 
 
When the doorbell rang, I was so nervous. I almost ran to answer it.

“Christina, slow down. Relax, it is only Bruce!”

I smiled and slowed down. I opened the door and Bruce’s jaw hit the step.

“Hi Bruce, come in,” I said and walked off, leaving him on the doorstep.

I went into the kitchen, where Mum was preparing lunch.

Bruce came in, but he couldn’t take his eyes off me.

“Hello Bruce, how are you?” Mum asked.

“Hi, Mrs Drewett. I’m fine,” he said, still staring at me.

“Why don’t you take Bruce up to his room, Christina?”

“Okay, come on Bruce,” I said, walking out.

He followed me upstairs, but by the time we reached the spare room, he was able to control his dribble.

“You’re in here. The bathroom is there, but then you’ll remember that,” I said.

He pointed to my breasts.

“You’ve got, got, them!” he managed to stammer.

“See, I told you, I am a girl.” I said, sitting on his bed as he put his bag down.

“Shit!” he said.

“Thanks, how complimentary,” I said with a smile.

“You’re pretty!” he said.

I smiled even more.

“So, are you gay or not?” I teased.

“Not, definitely not! The girl I fancy is amazing,” he said, and it was my turn to go red.

“So you fancy me?”

“Do I!”

I looked at him from under my eyelashes.

“How much?” I asked, not certain what I was doing or where we were going with this.

He looked down. I had him where I wanted him. It was very odd, as we’d been friends for ages, and yet there had never been any chemistry between us like this.

“Enough to kiss me?” I heard my voice say.

He looked sharply at me, but nodded, rather uncertainly.

I’d never either kissed or been kissed, so my heart was pounding.

I stood up, and he moved close to me. I watched him as he moved his head towards me, so I tilted my head slightly to one side so out noses didn’t collide. I felt his lips touch mine, so I reached up and put my arms around his neck. Our lips met briefly and it was over.

I felt a tingle all over my body, and then his arms went round my waist. One of his hands grabbed my buttock and he pulled me towards him.

Our lips met again, for slightly longer, and then he stepped back, releasing me.

“Kids, Lunch!” shouted my mother from downstairs.

I smiled. He stood there panting slightly, red in the face, with my lipstick all over his mouth. I got a damp tissue and cleaned him off. I noticed that there was a large bulge in his trousers, so I was tempted to let my hand brush against it, but decided not to.

The odd thing was, I had felt really aroused, and yet my worm had not even moved.

I went to my room and repaired my lips. We then went down to lunch.

Mum gave me a knowing look and frowned at me. I smiled and shrugged. I chatted all through lunch and gradually Bruce relaxed.

“I can’t believe the change in you,” he said.

“How has she changed?” Mum asked.

“She is just so way out. She is everything that Chris isn’t. She is chatty and outgoing, and just so different,” he said, going red again.

“Bruce, do I detect a little male hormone reacting to my daughter?” Mum asked, and Bruce couldn’t look at her.

“Mum! That’s so unfair. Bruce has been a friend for years,” I said.

She looked at me.

“Christina, you know perfectly well that that friendship ended as soon as you opened the front door. What we have here is something very different, Right Bruce?”

Bruce nodded and I frowned.

“What is wrong with everyone? I’m still me!”

“No, Christina, you’re not just you. You are a stunningly pretty girl. You have affected poor Bruce deeply, and what is worse, you know it.”

I stared at her, but realised that she was right.

“Sorry Brucie, didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said, much subdued.

“You haven’t hurt me,” he was quick to reply.

“Yet!” added Mum.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Cone on Christina, act your age. You know what affect you have had, so be nice and be honest with him. Don’t tease the poor boy.”
 
 
We finished lunch, and went back upstairs. We sat in my room just getting to know each other again. I was different, I knew that I reacted totally differently to him, and I loved it. He was attentive and interested, and it was as if I never knew him at all before. Mum came up and found us just sitting chatting, and she joined us.

Bruce was genuinely interested in my medical problems, so we told him all that we knew. Mum told him that is he breathed a word of this to anyone she would personally castrate him. He went pale, so I thought the secret was safe.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the Cinema. There’s a James Bond film showing,” she said.

We arrived, and instead of coming in with us, she dropped us off, saying she would pick us up in a couple of hours. She gave me the money, and told me to behave.

I paid for the tickets, so we went in and sat at the back.

Half way through the film, he put his arm around my shoulders, and I let him kiss me again. I enjoyed kissing and being kissed by him. I felt all strange and tingly. I also felt a little frustrated that I wasn’t a real girl, yet, for some reason it didn’t seem to matter to him.

At one point, my hand was in his lap, and I felt his hard-on through his trousers. It gave me a thrill to know that I could arouse a boy. I knew exactly how to, and the feeling of power was amazing. I didn’t let my hand linger, as I was afraid and not really sure why.

The film was very good, whenever James Bond kissed the girl, Bruce kissed me, and I even tried to imagine that Sean Connery was kissing me. However, Bruce’s kisses were just a brief touch to my lips.
 
 
The film ended, and we walked out hand-in-hand. It was raining, so we ducked into the Wimpy bar next door and ordered a couple of milk shakes.

We were sitting close together when a voice intruded.

“Bruce?”

I looked up and two strange boys were staring at us. They were both about Rob’s age, so they were four years older than us.

“Hi Jamie, Peter. What are you guys doing?”

“We have been seeing the film. I thought it was you, but Pete wouldn’t have it. Who’s your friend?” the taller boy, Jamie, asked.

“This is .. ah, a friend, ah, um, my girlfriend, Chris, um, Christina. Chris, this is Jamie Roberts, and Peter McVeigh. They live in the same road as me.”

“Hi guys,” I said, and without invitation, they joined us.

“How come you kept the fact you had a girlfriend quiet?” Jamie asked, staring at me.

“We just sort of got together recently,” Bruce said, rather embarrassed.

“So, Christina, do you live in Guildford?”

“No, several miles away. My mum is picking us up.”

“Hey there is a party at my place tomorrow, do you two want to come?”

“Oh, that sounds like fun, but we have already got something on,” I said, and Bruce looked relieved. At that moment I saw Mum looking in, so I waved, and we finished the shakes.

“Sorry, our lift is here, gotta go. It’s been nice to meet you,” I said.

“Well, another time. It was good to meet you too,” Jamie said, and he stared at me in such a way, that I felt goose bumps all over my body. I smiled and pushed Bruce out in front of me.

I was quiet on the way home. Bruce was clearly a little unsettled, but I think he was pleased to have been spotted with a girl, but I believed he was worried in case someone told his mother.

I went to bed that night feeling more like a girl than ever. Bruce was sweet, but it was of Jamie that I dreamed.
 
 

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

 
Chris Drewett, a teenage transsexual, is caught dressing in his sister’s clothes by his mother. Faced with a problem she can’t deal with, she turns to her sister-in law, a doctor who practices nearby, and she starts Chris on an amazing and very surprising journey.

A gentle tale of teenage angst and discovery, and of relationships and conflicts. Where sexual awakenings cause confusion and tears as well as joy and lasting friendships.

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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: Why Me?  © 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 weekend went very quickly. I dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, but with a bra and a little makeup, and we did everything we always used to. It was just I was a girl, but little else had changed in our relationship.

“What is going to happen at school?” he asked me, on the Sunday, before he was about to cycle home.

I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I may have to go back to Fromley Hall, but it will be a nightmare to pretend to be a boy.”

“It might be fun, in a way. It isn’t everyone who has their girlfriend at an all boys’ school with them,” he said and leered at me.

“What’s this about being your girlfriend?”

“Sorry, it was the first thing that came into my head. Do you mind that much?”

“Not that much. But it would have been nice to have been asked.”

“Well, I figured that neither of us have much of a choice. So, as my friend, and a girl, will you be my girlfriend?”

I immediately thought of my mother and the doctors. It dawned on me that I was racing to a conclusion that might not be what I was destined to be. It had been exciting and fun, but reality kicked in.

“Don’t get too serious. I have enough to worry about. I don’t think it would be right, do you, honestly?”

“I suppose,” he said.

“Look, it may be that I’m just a screwed up boy, and end up being gay or something. I may look and behave like a girl, but I have to let the doctors do their work. WE had a good time, but I don’t think we should get silly.”

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. Heck, I was confused, so it was little wonder he was too.

I waved as he rode off on his bike.

“Well, how was that?” Mum asked me.

“Okay I guess. I think he thinks he is in love with me,” I said.

“I could see that he was surprised from the moment he walked in, but I think that he fell for you.”

“Mum, don’t be gross!”

“Christina, you blur all the edges, the poor boy just doesn’t know where he is, and you have confused the hell out of him.”

“Am I going to have to go back to Fromley?”

“I don’t see an alternative. I’ve tried several schools, and they are all unable to take you, especially when I told them you have a confidential medical problem. I’ve also looked into home schooling, and to be honest, it’s not practicable without knowing when everything is going to happen. We’ll have to wait and see what Mr Sweeney can do for you. You have the first meeting with the Psychologist tomorrow morning, you remembered that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I remembered,” I said.

The psychologist was called Janice Robertson. She was a very nice woman, who could best be described as ‘round’. She wore dark red clothes and looked permanently happy.

We sat and chatted, so I was able to relax. Mum advised me to dress casually, so I wore jeans and a tee shirt, no bra and no makeup. Besides, Shelly was home again, and Dad was due to fly home in a couple of days.

Janice called me Christina, and treated me as a girl from the outset. The first appointment was only an hour, but it flew past. I found myself just telling her everything, as she listened and made a few notes.

I returned each week, and each time felt happy to talk to her. I told her about Bruce, how I felt when Jamie looked at me, and she smiled, making some notes.

She really helped me deal with my gender identity. From the outset she accepted me as a girl, so I now saw myself as a girl all the time, even when I was supposed to be a boy! She told me how to deal with it like acting. She suggested that I could know for certainty that I was a girl, but in order to trick the world, I had to play a part, and act out the role of a boy.

I tried it with the family, and it worked. I got a real kick out of it. Mum smiled when she saw what was going on.

The tests still hadn’t come back, so I had to go back to school. We’d tried everything, but there was no alternative. I was dreading it, as my breasts had grown a little in the holidays. Still, they weren’t so big as to draw attention to them, and the Christmas term was the rugger term, so hopefully I wouldn’t have to be naked too much. It was wearing boys’ clothes all the time that I wasn’t looking forward to.
 
 
My school was just outside Windsor. It was a preparatory school for boys aged between eight and thirteen, and I was going back for my final year. It was set in lovely grounds and had been an old country house many years before. Mum dropped me off and helped me carry my stuff into the main hall. I checked a notice board and found that I had been made a prefect, and was placed in one of the junior dormitories to supervise the youngsters.

There were over 100 boys in the school, and there were fifteen prefects. My academic record and cup-winning prowess in the swimming sports meant I was prefect material.

I was also pleased, as the eight-year olds all went to bed before me, so I never had to dress or undress in front of them. My bed was partly screened from then, so it gave me some extra privacy.

Once I stowed my clothes, I kissed my Mum goodbye.

“Hang in there, darling, I will contact you as soon as I hear from Mr Sweeney, so be patient.”

“I will. I hope it’s soon,” I said.

I waved her away and went looking to find anyone I knew. I heard a noise and looked round and found a little new-boy sitting on the floor crying, as he was already home-sick. I bent down and touched him on the shoulder.

“Hi, it’s horrid at first. But you will be fine soon. What is your name?”

“Simon, Miss.”

I laughed, and remembered to get back into boy role.

“I’m not a Miss! My name is Chris, and I’m a boy here, just like you.”

He looked up at me.

“You sound and look like a lady,” he said, forgetting to cry.

“Well, let’s just keep that a secret, shall we?”

I got him up off the floor, and took him to the junior common room. I handed him over to one of the second years to look after.

“That was neatly done, young Drewett,” said the head’s voice.

I spun round, and noticed Mr Rogers had been watching me.

“Sir, he looked so miserable. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“I agree, and you did it very nicely. Come into my study please, I want to talk to you.”

I followed him into his study.

“Sit down.”

I sat.

“Your mother has written to me. Did you know that?”

“No sir.”

“Well, she explains a few of your medical difficulties.”

“Oh!”

“Oh, indeed. This is all rather difficult for you. How long has it been going on?”

“All my life, but with puberty happening, it’s all a bit trying.”

“Quite. I appreciate the honesty, your mother’s letter explains the problem about not knowing, and this must be the worst part.”

“Sir, what exactly did she write?”

“Here, read it yourself,” he said, and handed it over to me.

She had been completely honest, but missed out about the fact that I actually dressed as a girl. She said that I was psychologically more female, and was developing along similar lines physically. Then she explained the medical tests and possible outcomes.

I gave it back.

“I only just read it, so came looking for you. But having witnessed the last little incident, I am happy to let things lie for the time being. If you turn out to be a girl, then your place in the school will be under threat, you understand that?”

“Yes sir.”

“It would be a shame, but we can’t suddenly cater for one girl.”

“No sir.”

“As it happens there is a possibility that the school may go co-ed in the future, but I’m not sure that the governors are ready to make that sort of decision yet.”

“No sir.”

“I don’t intend to make this general knowledge. But I will inform some of the staff, so that as far as sports and games generally, you are excused on medical grounds.”

“Even swimming?”

“Even swimming. I am sorry, but if you are developing as a girl, I can hardly have you traipsing about topless, now, can I? And if I let you wear a bikini, what will the other boys say?” he asked, with a smile.

“I see.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but we will say that you have a back problem, and that will do the trick.”

“Yes sir.”

He looked at me closely.

“Do I detect your ears have been pierced?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then no earrings here, please, girl or not, it is a rule.”

“Yes sir.”

He smiled.

“Now, as you know, there is always a play in the Christmas term, and the top form will perform it. I will ask Mr Harris to ensure that you will be selected to be the leading lady. At least you can wear them then.”

I smiled.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Okay, now off you go, and keep me informed. If you feel unwell or need to talk, then Mary or I will be here for you.”

“Thanks sir. That makes it a bit easier.”
 
 
I left his study and stopped. I was completely dumfounded, as I had never expected the Head to be quite so understanding and practical. It made me feel much happier. I found everyone lining up for tea. They lined up in the main hall, with the senior forms on the right, nearest the dining room, and the junior forms on the left. The prefects stood at the front, facing the class lines. There were ten tables of ten, and the prefects sat at the head and tail of each table to keep order. There was a staff table, which at lunch time was where the prefects sat, and the staff members sat with the boys.

Bruce saw me and grinned at me.

I went and stood beside him. He was a prefect too.

“Hi,” I said.

“Good to see you. Are you okay?”

“I’d rather be in a dress, but I’m fine,” I said quietly.

“You still look like a girl pretending to be a boy,” he said, so I smiled and told him about the new boy.

The gong sounded, and the senior tables were filled first. I was to sit on the junior table, so had ten new boys to supervise. Bruce was seated several tables up. And the routine of school got underway.

In the first week, I was called ‘Miss’ four times by different new boys, so it became a bit of a joke. But although embarrassed, I secretly enjoyed it, as it confirmed to me my true gender. It took all my efforts and concentration to keep up the difficult task of pretending to be a boy. As time went by, the task seemed to become more difficult, particularly as my breasts really started to grow. I was grateful to be excused games.

I found that I no longer cared to be one of the pack, and started to really work hard. I soon started to excel in all my subjects, which was immediately apparent. Mr Harris, our English teacher, selected me to be the leading lady in a play set in the 1920s America. I was to play a nightclub singer called Lulubelle Lafayette, who had a real southern drawl in the script.

Lulubelle was the witness to a shooting of a gangland boss by some of his men, and the police and the rest of the gang wanted to catch those responsible. She was used as a pawn by the gang, until she got fed up, and decided to turn the tables on them and went to work for the police and helped the police Lieutenant to catch the gang in the act of smuggling illegal booze into Chicago.

There were three sets, the night club, the police headquarters, and the warehouse where all the booze was kept. My part was brilliant, and was the biggest by far. Mr Harris told me later that he hadn’t intended to use this play, because the female leads were normally unpopular in an all boys’ school, but after being spoken to by the head, he relented, and I was given the best part.
 
 
Bruce was behaving oddly, but I knew what was happening. He didn’t like me being a boy, and he felt frustrated and took it out on me. He was sullen and moody, and really started to piss me off.

One day, when the rest of the boys were out playing rugby, he and I were alone in the form room. He had done his ankle in, so was off games for a week.

“Okay Bruce, come on, tell me why you are so bloody moody?” I said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

“Don’t give me that. You’ve hardly spoken to me since we’ve been back, you always look so unhappy. I thought you and I were supposed to be friends.”

He looked at me, and his face started to crumple. But he controlled himself.

“You don’t know what it is like. Having you here, knowing that you should be a girl, and not being able to touch you and do what we did in the holidays.”

I blew my stack.

“What the hell do you think I feel like? Have you for one moment thought about what I’m going through? Stuck in this hell hole with prepubescent boys all calling me ‘Miss’!” I almost yelled at him, and he looked shocked with the ferocity of my words.

We stared at each other for a few moments.

“No, I don’t know what it must be like for you. You’re right, I’m being selfish. I’m sorry.”

I looked at him, wondering whether he was being sarcastic.

He stood up and walked over to the window, and looked out.

“I thought we’d be able to carry on like we did in the holidays, and we can’t. You seem so grown up, I almost feel you are growing away from me, and it frightens me. You’re so controlled and just so pretty, and I hear the other boys calling you names behind your back. I can’t say anything because then they’d turn on me, and I feel cowardly. I thought I was in love with you, but I think you just excited me, as now I’m just confused.”

He turned back to face me.

“You’re a wonderful person, and I just can’t cope with having you so close and yet so far away. What do we do?”

I looked at him, and saw tears form in his eyes.

“Bruce, what were we before you thought that I was really a girl?”

“Best friends, why?”

“Then let’s stay best friends. We were both exploring something new, so we will never lose what we had, but we change, and things are different. We’re both too young to start getting silly, and I need a friend, I don’t have many. I don’t want a boyfriend - I just want a friend. Pretend I’m not a girl inside, just for a while. Will you be that for me at least?”

He smiled, and a little black cloud seemed to drift away. We shook hands.

“Friends?” he asked.

“Friends. And who knows, sometime in the future, we may even be something more, but neither of us can see that far.”

He grinned.

“Now, what do they say behind my back?”

“Just that you are very girly and gay.”

“Well, you and I know different, don’t we?”

“Yup! And I will tell them next time.”

“Bruce, I’m not bothered about the girly, just the gay bit hurts, okay?”

“Okay.”
 
 
Things came to a head a few days later.

It was in the evening, and three boys from my year group were playing a board game called RISK. It was a world domination game involving armies and was a favourite amongst most of my form.

I watched as they set up and asked, “Can I play?”

“What do you want to play for, this is a boys’ game?” asked Douglas Evans. I had never liked him. I liked him even less now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, feeling hurt.

“Well, look at you, you’re more like a girl than a boy,” he said, nastily.

One of the others, Steven Morgan, pulled his sleeve.

“Leave it out, he’s not doing any harm.”

“Even if I was a girl, why should that make any difference to you?” I said, I could feel the anger boiling up inside me.

Douglas glared at me.

“You’re just a little queer, so go away!”

I glared back. I heard someone enter the room behind me, but I didn’t turn round, I just went right up to Douglas, so our faces were inches apart.

“And you are a pathetic bigot! If you were the last person alive, I wouldn’t cross the road to give you the time of day. Remember this moment, because you may regret being such a bastard!” I said, and turned and walked out past the headmaster who had witnessed most of the exchange.

I heard him say, “Evans, my study, now!”

I was called in later and Douglas was forced to apologise to me. Not that it would make any difference, as now he would hate me forever. I sensed the feeling was mutual, but at least I knew he would not be so blatant with his behaviour.
 
 
Life improved, and one day towards the end of September, I was supervising the juniors in a reading period when the headmaster called for me.

I went, heart thumping. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, so it must me the medical test results.

I was right, for my mother was in the headmaster’s study.

“Hello darling, how are you?” Mum said.

“Fine. It’s the test results, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I have to take you to see Mr Sweeney immediately.”

“Gosh, that serious?”

“Yes. He wants to do some emergency surgery on you. He did tell me, but it was all so complicated. The important thing is that whatever is to be done should be done very soon. Apparently the few male bits you have may be nasty!”

The head was very understanding, so I was sitting in the car being driven home within ten minutes. The only things I had with me were my wash bag and the script for the play.
 
 
I went straight to the hospital, where Mr Sweeney was waiting for me. He beamed a huge smile at me, grinning at my schoolboy uniform of grey flannel trousers, grey shirt, blue tie and blue blazer.

“Very smart, but not really appropriate any more,” he said. I was unable to ask him why. They took me to a small room. There was one bed in it and a hospital gown waiting for me.

“Get undressed and slip the gown on. We have some tests to do, and tomorrow we need to get you sorted out.”

I did as he asked, but was getting rather worried. I was told to lie on the bed, so the nurse came and took two syringe loads of blood. Mr Sweeney came back, and sat next to me on the bed. Mum was nowhere in sight.

“Right young lady, let’s get some things clear. You can forget being a boy, as from now, you are a girl, okay?”

“A girl?”

“Is that clear?” he asked.

I nodded, not sure whether to be pleased or not.

“I will tell you why in a moment, but first, I need to just check you out!”
 
 
He examined me again, concentrating on my genitalia. He looked briefly at my budding breasts, but just smiled.

He gave me a rectal examination. Although he was gentle, I didn’t like it much.

Pulling the rubber gloves off, he told me to pull the gown back on.

“Okay, that’s fine. Well, Christina, the tests have come back, and I have some shocks for you, or perhaps they’re not. But given the fact you’ve been brought up as Christopher, things are definitely going to have to change.

“Okay, let’s list what you are. You, my girl, are a normal genetic female. That is, you have double X chromosomes. You are also producing a high level of oestrogen, and boys just don’t produce the quantity you are. That tells me that you have the means to produce female hormones, and as you are doing so, this means that you have active ovaries, and that possibly naturally lead me to suspect that you may be able to produce ova, that is to say - female eggs. You have begun puberty, which has set all this off, and as a girl not a boy.

“My examination just now confirms certain things. You have what feels like a vaginal tunnel, exactly where it should be, and that what everyone thought were boy’s bits, the testes, may not even be that. I think they are excess tissue items that look as if they are left behind from foetal development. The skin over them, which appears to be a scrotum and part of the penis, is just that, skin. You don’t have a full penis, just an enlarged clitoris.”

I stared at him. He had lost me completely.

He smiled, patiently.

“”Let me explain. When you were developing inside your mother’s tummy, you went through what every baby does, you developed two sets of sexual characteristics. Now, the vast majority of babies lose one set completely, and develop fully as either a little boy or a little girl. You were the same right up to the point of losing one set.

“Only you never lost all the male ones when you should have done. They nearly went, but some bits got left behind. That made you look like a little boy. So, when you were born, the doctors and nurses assumed you were a boy, as did your parents. In fact, I think you have everything that matters inside you, and have always been a girl, but because of that silly bit of skin, they sexed you wrongly at birth.”

“So, I was right, I’ve always been a girl?”

“Absolutely. Your specific case is quite rare, but not unknown, and six or seven in every million suffers something like this.”

“So what happens now?”

“Well, I have spoken to your mother, and she has signed the consent forms. I want to put right the mistakes that nature made, and I want to make you into the little girl you have always wanted to be.”

I burst into tears of pure joy and hugged the poor doctor so hard, I almost suffocated him.

He managed to prise me off, and once I had stopped laughing and crying, he explained the plan.

“I will do the operation tomorrow morning, so I need you not to eat or drink anything from now on. In fact, they will give you something to clear out your bowel and urinary tract, so we can work without the worry of all kinds of nasty stuff getting in the way.”

He got a pen and an old envelope and started to draw.

“The first thing I will do is gently explore what you have down there. Once I know exactly what you have and what you’re missing, I can get to work. By using the skin you have, I will create a perfect opening to your vagina. Now, I promise that this should quite easy, as long as what I suspect is inside is indeed there. After the scars heal, you won’t be able to tell the difference between you and any other girl!

“Then, I will get rid of anything that is unnecessary or dangerous, as some of the useless tissue may just be prone to cancer. I think you should be okay, but it’s better to be safe. Once I can see what you have, I will be in a better position to make any adjustments as you may require. Sometimes some of the vaginal channel or uterus is missing, so we will just have to see.”

“Will I be able to have babies?” I asked.

“I don’t know, honestly. I will have to see whether your ovaries are fully fertile. But if they are, I see no reason why not. You have a female pelvis, so all you need is a boyfriend,” he joked.

He went out, and Mum came back with the nurse. The latter gave me some horrid stuff to drink, and a couple of pills.

“Mum, I’m a girl!”

“I know sweetie. I just have to work out how to explain this to Daddy.”

I hadn’t thought about him much, but now I did, and my heart sank. I’d not given it a thought. I’d been so wrapped up in my problems, that dad didn’t come into the equation much. Mum stayed with me until it was very late, and then she gave me a kiss and went home. I dozed off, but I was too excited to sleep for long.

I was woken at about six, when the nurse took my temperature and blood pressure.

I was allowed to have a mouthful of water, as my mouth was very dry.

At eight, Mr Sweeney came to see me, and was very cheerful.

“Now, you have nothing to worry about. The anaesthetist will come to see you and ask some questions, and then I’ll see you on the table in about an hour, okay?”

I nodded. It all went so quickly.

An hour later I was lying on the trolley in the room outside the theatre. I watched as they put needles into my wrist, and cold liquid was put in, and I felt it go up my arm.

“Count to ten, Christina,” a voice said.

I got to eight, before everything went black.
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
“Christina! Christina, come on girl, come back to us!”

I opened my eyes, and three strange heads floated above me.

“Hi, how are you?” said one of the heads.

“Wooosy!” I said, and went back to sleep.

I came round again, and there were two heads now. I felt the pain hit me, right between the legs!

“OOOOW!” I said.

“Well done. Is that a bit sore then, Christina?”

“OOOW! YES!”

“Morphine, five mills,” said the voice.

The pain slowly ebbed away.

“Christina, stay awake sweetie, I need you to stay awake,” said another voice. I recognised it as Mr Sweeney’s.

I opened my eyes.

“Good girl. What’s my name?”

“Sweeney,” I said.

“Well done. Okay, take her back to her room. I will see you in a little while, okay?”

I nodded, and watched the ceiling fly past as I lay on the trolley.

I woke up later in my bed in the room. Mum was sitting next to me, and to my surprise so was Daddy.

“Hello sweetie, how do you feel?” she said.

I moved my head, but a wave of nausea hit me, so the nurse held out a little bowl. I retched, but nothing came up.

“It’s the anaesthetic, it’s horrible,” said the nurse.

Mum held my hand, and I went back to sleep again.

I woke up, and the clock told me it was two hours later. Mum was gone but Daddy was in the chair reading the newspaper.

“Daddy?”

He looked up and smiled.

“How’s my girl?” he asked, a little uncertainly, I thought, but we both cried.

Mum came in to find us having a hug, both with tears streaming down our faces. Dad was saying over and over again, “I never knew!”

I gave Mum a hug as well, and they both sat down next to the bed.

“I called your headmaster and told him the news. You’ve put them in a real pickle, I can tell you!”

I smiled, but I couldn’t really have cared less. I was now a girl!

The nurse came in and checked various drips and took my temperature.

“Can I drink?”

“Yes, just a little at a time. Suck an ice cube, that’s nice.”

I drank a quarter of a small glass, and it was lovely, I was given an ice cube to suck, and she had been right, it was heavenly.

I felt less sick as the afternoon progressed, and by six pm I was chirpy. Dad didn’t say much, but he just smiled at me all the time. The nurse came and removed my catheter and took the dressing away. I was allowed to look, and although raw, it looked really great.

I got up and went to the loo, and sat there, amazed at what was now between my legs. Everything worked as it should, and I tottered back to bed.

The door opened and Mr Sweeney came in wearing his suit.

“How’s my girl?” he asked.

“Fine. I’m a little sore.”

He shook Daddy’s hand, and sat on my bed.

“Right, well, that was a lot better than it could have been. I was right, you had everything exactly where it should have been, and the small testes were nasty, so they’ve gone. They weren’t malignant, but had we left them much longer, they could have turned.

“I have built everything you need, and I have to say that now you are a perfectly normal young woman. Even to the point of being fertile. We tested your ovaries and you are fine, and fertile. You can also expect your first period within a few weeks, so we were none too soon.”

“The stitches are self dissolving, so take it easy for a few days, they will be gone in about a week, when I’ll see you again, just make sure everything is fine. You can have a bath tomorrow, but not too hot.

“And no sex for at least eight weeks,” he joked.

“What?” asked Daddy, suddenly shocked. I just grinned as Mr Sweeney winked at me.

“Just checking you were listening. Stay off school until I see you again, and then we shall see. Go for gentle walks, and no trousers for two weeks at least. I have given your mother some disposable knickers that are loose and won’t cause you discomfort. If there is any discharge, then they can be thrown away.”

“When can I go home?” I asked.

“Didn’t your mother tell you? Tomorrow morning.”

I didn’t believe him. I had visions of staying in for days, or even weeks.

“All I did was cut and fold back some skin, and then stitch it into place, removing some other surplus skin. Your clitoris is fine, and is just perfect in size and location. No, there is no doubt that you are a fine specimen of a girl. I was just waiting to make sure you were out of the clutches of the anaesthetic, and able to go to the loo.

“I have given your parents a letter, so that your birth certificate can be altered. As you are now legally female, as your gender at birth was wrongly recorded.”

My father gave me a hug, and went out to speak to the doctor alone. Mum helped me into my own nightie. Mum looked at my breasts, which had filled out a little since we had bought my last lot of clothes. My old bra would be too small now, so Mum told me we would go shopping soon. She brushed my hair for me, and I put on a little makeup.

“What was Daddy’s reaction when you told him?”

“Well, I called him in New York. I told him you had been rushed to hospital, and for him to get his arse back here. When he arrived I picked him up from Heathrow, and told him your story on the way down. He was somewhat shocked, so he is getting the run-down from the doctor now. But don’t worry, he’s fine with it.”

She put my old school clothes into a carrier bag.

“What will happen with school?” I asked.

“Let’s think about that later. Just you get a good night’s sleep and we’ll be back early in the morning.”

I sat back in bed, and Daddy came back in.

“My goodness you’re such a pretty girl. How the hell we missed it, I will never know.”

“I’m sorry Dad,” I said.

“Oh, sweetie, never ever say that again. It wasn’t your fault. You knew and we couldn’t help, and I am so sorry you suffered for so long.”

We had a family hug and I felt so smothered by their love, it almost took away all my pain.

The nurse came in and asked if I wanted some supper.

I chose some macaroni cheese, and when it arrived I ate it so fast that I could have managed another one. I was now allowed to drink properly, and I drank nearly two pints of cold water.

My parents left, and I spent all night feeling my new bits and going to the loo.
 
 
I was up and dressed by eight o’clock. I had eaten some cereal and toast, and was waiting sitting on my bed putting my makeup on when the nurse came in. I was wearing my denim skirt, no tights, because the baggy knickers had to be kept free, and a sweater. By old bra was a little tight, but I was obviously female, as I filled it to overflowing.

“Are you okay for a visit?” she asked.

I frowned, as my parents were due any minute to take me home.

“Okay. Who is it?” I asked.

The door opened and the headmaster and his wife stood there.

“Well, well look at you,” he said, and handed me a huge bouquet of flowers.

Mrs Rogers hugged me for the first time in my life.

“Your mother called us last evening. What a remarkable state of affairs, it’s rather like a fairy story,” she said.

“All it needs is a handsome prince,” I said, and they both laughed.

“We have spoken to the governors, and there is a special meeting in two days. As your fees have been already paid, I have asked for you to be allowed to continue your education at the school. If they agree, you will have to go into your own room, and there is one down by Matron’s, with a ladies bathroom. But it seems a shame to discriminate against you because of an accident at birth.

“We are trying to encourage the governors to go for a co-ed option, so we can survive the changes that are coming over the next twenty years or so. Your case will go a long way to prove that girls can survive perfectly well in our school,” Mr Rogers explained.

“Not only survive, but thrive and excel. Your academic achievements and swimming skills are remarkable, and if you consider you were always a girl, you deserve a special prize,” said Mary Rogers.

I was speechless. I never imagined being offered the possibility to stay on at school. I never even dreamed I would want to. I found myself moved by these two wonderful people. However, as I thought about it, being the only girl among a hundred boys was a very daunting thought.

“Anyway, the governors may decide against it, so our hopes may come to nothing. We just wanted to know how important you are to us and the school.”

“Thanks,” I managed to mutter.

The door opened again, and my parents stood there.

Daddy greeted the Rogers, who were surprised to see him.

They explained everything that they had said to me, and both my parents were as stunned as I had been.

They kissed me gently on the cheeks and departed, leaving me standing there with a huge bunch of flowers.

“That was nice of them,” said mother, the mistress of the understatement.

Daddy drove us home, and I sat there, feeling free for the first time in my life. It had been fun dressing up, but I had always felt guilty and a bit dirty somehow. It had always been as if I was doing something wrong, and was breaking some unwritten rule somewhere.

We arrived at the house, and I carefully walked inside. I was very tender, and Mum made me lie down on the sofa, with my feet up.

It was lovely being waited on, so I felt like a pampered princess. I was also very tired, as hospitals are not somewhere one sleeps very well. I dozed off after lunch, and slept all afternoon.

I had to get up at about six as I had a full bladder. I managed to sit at the dining room table and enjoyed the first dinner with both my parents together for ages.

I went to bed early, as I still felt tired and a little weird. I snuggled down in my familiar bed, and both my parents came to say goodnight.

“We’ll put any clothes you no longer want into a bag and give them to a second hand shop,” said Mum, and I grinned.

She kissed me, and left me with my Daddy.

He sat on my bed, and held my hand.

“I’m sorry that I’ve never been here for you, Christina. I was so tied up with my job I lost sight of what was really important. Now I know, and so I’ll try to be at home when ever you need me to be.”

“It’s not so much me, Daddy, its Mum, she needs you all the time.”

He looked at me, and I saw his eyes go all soft and damp.

“I know, that’s why I’m looking to change my job.”

“Daddy, the money doesn’t matter. You’re missing everything by being away.”

He laughed. “So, the child becomes the parent? They told me this would happen, and I missed most of the child bit.”

“Promise me, Daddy, promise me that you’ll get a job close to home?”

“I promise, sweetie, I promise.”

I hugged him, and he left me alone. I touched myself, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, and fell asleep with a smile on my face.
 
 
I had a warm bath in the morning, and it was super. I stared at the new me, and almost got the giggles, I was so happy.

I went down to breakfast to find that Daddy had gone off to talk Shell UK about a change in job. I could tell Mum was worried, as he may have to leave and look for a different job. If he did that, the high salary would be gone, and my schooling may go down the tubes.

I was a bit more energetic, but still rather sore, so I pottered about the house. We went through my wardrobe, and apart from a couple of tee shirts, everything else went into a bag for Oxfam. We went down to the kitchen, and Mum showed me how to make pastry, and I made my first apple pie.

As I put it in the oven, Mum watched me with a smile on her face.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s so strange, it is as if you have always been a girl.”

“I have, but no one believed me.”

We had a cuddle.

“Have you told Rob and Shelly yet?”

“No. I will go down to Shelly’s school and tell her, and Rob is home the weekend after next.”

“I’m not looking forward to seeing him again,” I said.

“He’ll understand. You’ll see.”

“Bollocks!”

“Christina!”

“Well, he’s always been a real sod. He made my life hell at school, and I can’t see him changing now.”

“Do you feel up to going shopping tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Right, go and make a list.”
 
 
Daddy came home after lunch, looking rather gloomy. Shell did not want to change his position, as he was so good at what he did. They had given him an ultimatum, either do the job he already had or leave.

“What will you do?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“I want to be at home, but I am afraid that if I leave, then I’ll not be able to get another job. I’m good at what I do, I don’t know if I could do anything different.”

“Why not set yourself up as a consultant or something, and teach others how to do your job?” Mum asked.

“Hmm, possible. I will go and speak to my friend Reg. He left the company last year, and he now works as a consultant. I’ll give him a ring,” he said, and went to do just that.

I went and had a nap in the afternoon. Aunt Eileen and Uncle Keith, dropped in for tea. They seemed so pleased, and Eileen gave me a big hug.

“I knew Jonathon would sort you out. So how is my new niece?”

“Happy. Thanks Aunty, you sorted me.”

“No, you knew since you were very little, and it took us dense adults too long to sort you out. I am just thrilled that you are now the person you should always have been.”

They stayed for supper, and I loved being treated as a grown up, and a grown up girl at that.

I felt quite tired and had an early bed after supper. Uncle Keith and Daddy had a long meaningful chat about careers, and Daddy was a little happier, as Reg wanted to see him while Mum and I were to go shopping in the morning.
 
 
The week went quite quickly. I learned all my lines from the play, as it was something to do, even if I never got to play Lulubelle. Dad met his friend, and was talked into resigning from Shell. He went to work with Reg, and was immediately hired by a competitor, BP, as a consultant, to train people to do the job he had been doing for Shell.

He was based fifteen miles away, and only occasionally had to travel overseas. Even the money was almost the same.

Mum received a letter from the board of Governors for Fromley Hall, asking whether I would be willing to pilot a scheme for girls at the school.

Owing to the fact that I had already completed more than four years at the school, and although I was still the same person, it was important to know whether the school curriculum was sufficiently diverse to be appropriate for young girls as well as boys.

Eight other girls, of which three were daughters of new staff members, would be joining me, if I agreed, so I would not be the only girl in the school. One was my age, while the others were younger. But it was important for the pilot to have a spread through the school.

Special toilet and changing facilities were being looked at, and it was felt that a girls’ house would be the best idea, using the old school caretaker’s house that was at present unoccupied. A temporary dormitory for girls was to be set up, and Mr Rogers put a personal plea for us to really consider it positively.
 
 
"…Christina is such a super child, it would be an enormous shame if this opportunity was missed, both for her and the school..."
 
 
I sat down with my parents and discussed the offer. The fact I saw the words, hers, written in respect of me, almost overwhelmed me.

In the end Daddy wrote accepting, as I was of a mind to finish what I had started, and I really wanted to do the play.
 
 
Mum went and brought Shelly home at the weekend, and she was dying to meet her new sister.

I was in my room when she got back, and she came running up, and screamed with delight when she saw me.

We hugged, and she said, “I knew it. All along I knew it. This is brilliant, now it is two girls against Rob.”

We had a lovely time together. We talked about clothes, make up and boys. When I told her I sort of had a boyfriend, she shrilled with laughter. It was great having her home and we became closer than ever.
 
 
I went to see Mr Sweeney, who hardly glanced at my bits.

“You are looking fine. Everything has healed nicely, have you had your period yet?”

I said I hadn’t, and he smiled.

“Well you have that little joy to look forward to. How old are you now?”

“I’ll be thirteen in February.”

“Fine. Then get your mother to talk to you about contraception in a year or so. Any pains, or problems?”

I shook my head, and just smiled.

“Good. My, you are certainly a pretty girl. If you are this pretty at twelve, God knows what you will be like at sixteen! Well, I’m done with you. Mind out for boys, they can be the very devil. Go and enjoy the rest of your life, my dear.”
 
 
I returned to Fromley Hall the next day, with an adapted uniform of a grey skirt and white blouse, with the pale blue sweater and dark blue girl’s blazer. I wore tights and low-heeled shoes. I had studs in both ears, but no makeup.

I arrived and went straight in to see the head. I was introduced to the other girls who had started the previous day. One girl, Louise, was the same age as me, and was in my form. Mr Rogers and his wife were great, and I heard the commotion of the lunch queue starting.

“Well, Miss Drewett, we told the school a brief history of your little problem, and that you were back as you should have always been. I suppose you had better join the school. Your table needs supervising.”

I walked into the hall with the other girls, and took my place with the other prefects. The room went so silent, and it was weird being stared at by so many boys at once.

“Well, haven’t you ever seen a girl before?” I asked, and there was some nervous laughter.

The gong went, and I sat in my usual place on the junior table. Sitting next to me was the new boy, Simon, whom I had found crying on his first day.

“I knew you were really a girl,” he said.

“So did I,” I said, and we laughed together.

I kept seeing Bruce staring at me, and I know he was trying to signal to me, but I ignored him. He hadn’t even phoned or anything. Let him stew, I thought.

“Do we call you ‘Miss’, or what?” one boy asked.

“I’m not a teacher, and my name is Christina. Okay?”

“Were you really a girl all the time as the headmaster said?”

“Yes, but I had a silly bit of skin which confused the doctors, but now it has gone, and I am what I should always have been.”

We finished the meal, and I was able to return to my form room for the afternoon reading period. There was always half an hour after lunch, just to allow food to be digested before games.

The others were very awkward around me, but at least I had Louise with me as moral support. Louise was a little shorter than me, but had the most amazing long red hair. I thought she was very pretty, but I didn’t count, as I was a girl too.

Douglas Evans was unable to meet my eyes, so I went over to him.

A sudden hush fell on the room, as our previous bad feelings for one another were well known. He was a big lad, about 5’ 9”, which for twelve is big. He was the number eight forward in the first XV, and was actually quite good looking, not that that bothered me in the slightest, or so I told myself.
 
 
Finally, he could not avoid looking at me. I had to look up at him, and wished I had high heels on.

“What?” he said belligerently. The form room emptied, and we were left alone.

“What do you think?” I asked, and I could hear the chill on my voice.

He looked me up and down.

“Okay, so you are a girl. I didn’t know. No one did.”

“I knew. And so what, should it matter? I still have feelings, or do you think that girls don’t have feelings?”

He reddened.

“Well?” I asked.

“I apologised at the time.”

“Yeah, only because the head made you.”

“What do you want from me, blood?”

“Okay, half a pint please,” I said, and despite himself he grinned.

“Seriously, what do you want?” he said.

“What do you think?”

He shrugged.

“Why are you so afraid of me?” I asked.

“I’m not,” he said, but couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Okay, you were though?”

He looked at the door, as if to check that no one was listening.

“Maybe, but it wasn’t like that.”

“What then?”

He looked uncomfortable. “You confused me.”

Oh God!, not another one! I thought.

“How?”

“How do you think?”

“You thought I looked too much like a girl?”

He nodded.

“And you fancied me a little, perhaps?”

He looked into my eyes. Then he nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“So, you took your confusion out on me by being bloody nasty, as if it was my fault you thought you might be gay?”

He stared at me in surprise, as I had just revealed his inner most secret thoughts.

“I’m not stupid, how do you think I felt? I thought I was a boy until quite recently. I knew deep down that I was a girl, but I thought I had a boy’s body. I haven’t anymore, and now I am a normal girl, we can both relax, as neither of us is gay. At least I know I’m not, I don’t know about you,” I said, and he almost smiled again.

“I’m not gay,” he said, quietly, but very firmly.

“How do you know?”

He didn’t reply, and went red again, unable to make eye contact.

“You sod, you still fancy me!” I stated, laughing, and this time he did smile, and it transformed his whole face. He really was very good looking.

“My God! With you and Bruce, what am I going to do with you lot?”

“Look, for what it is worth, I really am sorry. I was confused, and I didn’t understand anything,” he said, and I believed him.

“Okay, I forgive you. If I confuse you again, just come and talk to me about it, okay?”

He nodded.

“Friends?” I asked.

He looked sharply at me.

“You want me as a friend?”

“I want everyone as a friend! Don’t you want to be my friend?”

He nodded. “Of course I do, it is just, well, I thought you hated me?”

“I did, but only because you were really horrid to me. We’ve moved on, and if you are horrid to me again, I’ll kick you in the nuts,” I said, and he grinned.

“I’d like to be your friend,” he said, looking at me.

I held my hand out, and he looked at it for a moment, and then took it, and shook it. He held me firmly and didn’t want to let go.

“Can I have my hand back, please, Douglas?”

He let go as if burned, and I smiled.

“Friends?” I asked.

“Friends,” he said.

The door opened and the others filed back in, all giving us strange looks.

I sat at my old desk, and it was as if nothing had changed. Then I caught my reflection in the window and realised that everything had changed. I took out the script and went through my lines. I idly wondered who would play the police lieutenant.
 
 
The bell went, and the boys all rushed off to change. I was off games due to my operation, and Louise stayed with me. Bruce was hanging about so I excused myself, and went to see what he wanted.

“Look, Christina, I’m sorry I never called, but I was away as well. My gran died.”

I suddenly felt so guilty for being a bitch, so I hugged him.

“Put him down, Miss Drewett, you don’t know where he’s been,” said Mr Harris as he cycled past.

“She died the day before you went, and I was told just after you had gone. I went home, and the funeral was three days ago. I never got round to calling you. I am so sorry!”

“Oh Brucie, don’t be silly, I’m so sorry for you. Was it sudden or expected?”

“She hadn’t been well, but it still wasn’t expected.”

“Oh, I am sorry. I was so wrapped up in what was happening to me, I sort of didn’t think of anyone else. Please forgive me?”

“I never was cross, but I am pleased you are now what you should always have been.”

I sensed there was something else bothering him.

“Bruce, will you still be my best friend?”

He smiled, and the little cloud disappeared again.

“Of course, I thought you’d never ask.”

I kissed his cheek, and let him go and change for rugby.

I persuaded Louise to come with me to watch them play. A cool wind swept across the pitch, and we wore our coats. The leaves were changing, and I realised that it was now October. It had only been three months since my little drama started, and now I was who I wanted to be.
 
 
Bruce was in the first game, and from the thirty odd players, the first team would be selected each week. He was wearing a striped shirt, and they were playing against those in the plain blue shirts.

I shouted myself hoarse and screamed with delight when he scored a try. The rugby coach, Mr Cooper, who was also the geography master, smiled, and recognised that Bruce had extra moral support.

Bruce was like a demon possessed, and Louise laughed.

“He is showing off for you now. He wants to impress you.”

“Of course. They all do it, watch,” I said, and saw little Will Russell the scrum half.

“Go on, Will, go for it!” I screamed.

He looked at me in surprise, grinned, picked the ball up and made a good effort at getting past the opponents. He was squished, but got up and had another go.

I saw Douglas look my way, and his expression made my heart miss a beat!

“Go on Doug!” I shouted, and he picked up the ball and made for the opposing try line. Only to be tackled a few yards short.

“You try,” I said to Louise.

“I don’t know their names yet.”

“Pick one you fancy, and I’ll tell you his name.”

She watched for a few seconds.

“That one, the big one with the sticky-out ears. He’s cute.”

“That’s Andy.”

“Come on Andy! Let’s see you move!” Louise shouted, and he looked up in shock, grinned, and pushed the whole scrum over.

“Cor, they are like trained dogs,” she said, and we laughed until the tears came.

We continued this game for a while, just picking a few and shouting for them, and poor Mr Cooper had his work cut out with so many all playing so hard to impress us.
 
 
In the end, he told us to go bother the next game, as we were tiring his poor little boys out.

We wandered off, giggling.

I never thought being a girl would be such fun.
 
 

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

 
Chris Drewett, a teenage transsexual, is caught dressing in his sister’s clothes by his mother. Faced with a problem she can’t deal with, she turns to her sister-in law, a doctor who practices nearby, and she starts Chris on an amazing and very surprising journey.

A gentle tale of teenage angst and discovery, and of relationships and conflicts. Where sexual awakenings cause confusion and tears as well as joy and lasting friendships.

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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: Why Me?  © 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
 
 
The following week I was allowed to start swimming again, and Louise joined me. The school had a nice indoor pool, which had been donated to the school by a generous old boy.

It was twenty-five yards long and had five lanes. I wore my new black one-piece Speedo swimsuit, and was delighted to get back into some exercise. I practised my racing turns, and tried to improve my timings.

I was quite unfit, so just worked hard to build up my fitness levels. I was standing at the side of the pool, teaching Louise how to do the racing turn when Miss Bawdrey, the PT teacher came over.

“Well, well. Look at you. It is a wonder anyone could have mistaken you for a boy.”

I looked down at myself, and saw what she meant. I had a very feminine figure, with a narrow waist, and wider across the bum, which was still slim, just female. My breasts were still growing and I was now a B cup.

“I was fine until puberty hit,” I said.

“Let’s see you swim. I remember you won the cup last year.”

I went and put my swimming cap back on, dived in and swam four lengths fast front crawl, with three racing turns perfectly executed.

I stopped at the end of the fourth, and got my breath back.

She had been timing me.

“I’m impressed, you swim beautifully. Wouldn’t it be lovely to beat all the school records next summer, and do it as a girl?”

I grinned, as she had given me a tremendous goal.

She gave me some pointers as regards my swimming techniques, and left me to practice. She then took Louise in hand, and found someone who needed a lot of help.

Later, we were in the girls’ changing room. It was much smaller than the boys’ room, as it was rare for girls to use the pool in any numbers.

I stripped off and had a shower, while Louise was in the other shower stall. She was a little plumper than I, and yet I was slightly larger in the boob department. I caught her looking at my naked body.

“Did they really think you were a boy?” she asked.

“Yup. Everyone did, even me.”

“I can’t see how. You are so pretty, and your figure is perfect. I don’t see how anyone could make that sort of mistake.”

“I suppose that before my hormones started, my shape was the same as everyone else’s, but I knew in my heart that I wasn’t really a boy, despite what my body said.”

“What was it like, I mean, being a girl in a boy’s body?”

“Horrible, but I’m really happy now.”

“God, you must be such a strong person to have managed here like that. So what happened with Douglas Evans the other day?”

“Well, I think Douglas actually got a little confused. I was sufficiently girly for him to notice me, and I think he fancied me, so he got worried that he might be a bit gay. It made him angry, so he took it out on me. We’ve sorted that out now, and he isn’t gay.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

I stepped out of the shower, and wrapped myself in my towel.

“What makes you say that?”

“It is just the way he looks at you. He waits for you to look at him, and when you smile at him he goes all gooey.” I smiled. “He is a friend now, as are most of them, and as they are all boys, it is kinda nice, isn’t it?”

She laughed.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked.

“Not yet. Dad only started here this term, and I was due to start at the local high school. But they gave us the free offer of a year here, so I took it. I quite like Andy,” she said, shyly.

“Bruce is my best friend from way back, and I know he fancies me. But Douglas is rather hunky, and little Will makes me laugh,” I said, and Louise laughed.

“It is like having a harem of boys.”

“What’s wrong with that? I can live with it,” I said, and got dressed.
 
 
We had English after games, and Mr Harris was going to nominate the cast. I was the only one to have a part, and Louise was immediately given the other main female role.

“Now, we have all been reading this for four weeks, and we have eight weeks to go before the three performances. I think I have made my mind up, so, Bruce, I want you to play the Gang leader who gets shot. Will, you’re the killer, and Andy, you are the gang leader who takes over.”

He then gave out all the parts, except the lead role as the policeman. I caught Douglas’s eye. He had not been given a part.

“Douglas, I want you to play the cop, now you have to pretend to love Christina, do you think you can manage that?” he asked, as our rift was well known to staff and pupils alike. Our new friendship was only known to a few.

“OOOOOH!” came from the other class mates, with lots of kissing noises. I was watching Douglas, as he went red and grinned.
Bruce looked jealous, so I knew that I was already causing friction.

“I think I could manage to PRETEND to like Miss Drewett,” Douglas said, trying to hold back his grin.

“No Evans, you have to act that you are in love with Miss Drewett’s character. It is very different.”

“I’ll do it sir,” said Bruce.

“No, me, me!” said Will, and then everyone started.

I stared at Douglas. He returned the stare, smiling, and my heart had a little flutter. He didn’t have to act, the poor fool.

“I can do that, sir,” Douglas said, very confidently.

“Good, then let’s all take our own roles, and we will start with a read through. If you can do the accent, then try, Christina, yours is Deep South, so do your best.”

“Why sah, it’ll sure be a pleasure. How are y’all?” I said. I had been practicing by watching Gone with the Wind over and over again.

“Very good, now read with the accent,” Mr Harris said with a smile.

The first reading was pretty dreadful, as the accents were terrible. But it was enormous fun, and we all laughed a lot. When Douglas and I got to the slightly romantic scenes, the kissing noises were tremendous, and we both went very red as we struggle through the catcalls.

The bell went, and Mr Harris asked us to practice our lines whenever we could. He also gave us some reading for our common entrance comprehension exercises.

We went back to the main school for tea. Douglas was waiting for me when I came out of the dining hall. Prefects had to supervise prep period after tea, and I was the junior form prefect. Douglas was deputy head boy, so he got a senior form.

“Christina, if we get some others to sit in for us, do you fancy going over our lines?”

“Are you going to be nice to me?” I teased.

He went red. “Of course.”

I immediately felt guilty, and touched his arm. He looked at my hand.

“I’m sorry, that was bitchy and uncalled for. Yeah, that sounds fun.”

We arranged substitutes and went to the deserted library, and sat close to each other down on the big leather sofa at the end.

We only read our parts, helping by reading other parts that led into ours. We found it hard sitting down, so we stood up, if that was in the script.

He actually had a very keen ear for accents, and his accent was very good. He was able to give me hints to help me with mine, and I found he was right.

Our first meeting was in the nightclub, just after Luigi Casanoli had been shot.
 
 
Lt. Hudson: Did you see what happened?
Lulubelle : Ah (I) might have!
Lt.: It’s important!
L’belle: So is staying alive, honey.
Lt.: I can protect you.
L’belle: Sugar, you ain’t the US Army, and they can’t protect me from the Casanoli’s!
Lt.: No ma’am, I am better that the US Army! I ain’t lost a witness yet.
L’belle: I heard a shot, and when I turned round, there he was, lying bleedin’ all over my clean floor!
Lt.: I get a feeling there is more that you ain’t telling’ me?
L’belle: Why, sugar, you callin’ me a liar?
Lt.: No ma’am. Just a frightened girl, who wants to stay alive.
L’belle: So, what’s in it for me?
Lt.: You get to live and I get to lock away some killers.
L’belle: I tell you what, let me think about it, and if my memory returns, I’ll call you.
Lt.: I’d be obliged, ma’am. Don’t leave it too long, that’s all I ask.
L’belle: Why Lootenant Hudson, are you worried about l’il ol’ me?
Lt.: I worry about any beautiful dame in trouble. Here’s my card, call me.

Lt. exits.
 
 
I stared at Douglas, as we had read it perfectly, accents and everything. He grinned at me.

“That was better than this afternoon,” he said and I nodded in agreement.

We moved onto the next bit. We were fine, until the second last scene together. This was the one when Lulubelle goes to the police station, and tells Hudson the truth. It was then that they realised that they loved each other, and it is just before she is kidnapped by the killer, who then takes her to the warehouse.
 
 
Lt.: Miss Lafayette. What can I do for you?
L’belle: Lootenant, why don’t y’all call me Belle, all my friends do?
Lt.: Okay, why are you here, Belle?
L’belle: I bin thinkin’, now y’all will say that’s a mighty dangerous thing for a gal to go an’ do, but I see you were right. I need to tell you a few things.
 
 
The scene progressed, to when she breaks down in tears because she has been threatened and is very frightened, so he comforts her by holding her close. They end up kissing.
 
 
We found we got caught up in the scene, and before either of us knew what was happening, he was holding me in his arms. We both were holding our scripts, and we looked at each other when the directions simply said, the couple kiss.

“Well, come on then, kiss me,” I said.

“How?”

“Have you never kissed a girl?”

He went red.

I smiled, taking hold of the sides of his head with my hands. His left arm was still round my waist.

I pulled his head down towards mine, tilting my head so our lips met. I let my tongue just touch his lips and he parted them for me. I gently probed with my tongue, and heard a crash as our scripts hit the floor!

The kiss went on and on. His tongue suddenly got the idea, and he learned very fast! Kissing Bruce had been fun, but kissing Douglas was something else. I went weak at the knees and got that tingly feeling again, but this time, my nipples started to harden, and I felt strange between my legs. So much so, that I was the one to break off.

He looked at me, with a very tender expression on his face.

“There, that’s how to kiss,” I said, as calmly as I could, but my heart was racing.

“Can I try that again, I don’t think I quite got it,” he said, with a smile.

Before I could react, he had pulled me towards him, and we were kissing again. But this time, he was really in charge, as
I found myself no longer in control. We were pressed together as tightly as we could get, and I felt his hardness pressing against me, through our clothes.

He broke off and stood looking at me, panting slightly and looking embarrassed.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” he asked.

“Ohh, that is my secret. Mind you, you aren’t exactly a slow learner.”

“Was that an act, or what?” he asked.

“Or what, I think. I’m not that good an actress.”

He nodded.

“Shit, Christina, I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Your first kiss, hey?”

“Yes, my first kiss. That was amazing!”

“It was just a kiss,” I said, and he looked immediately depressed. So I smiled and took his hand.

“But, you made my knickers damp,” I said, and he looked shocked.

“Don’t look like that. I felt you, I know exactly how you reacted, and I did the same, but as a girl does.”

“Oh!” he said, and went red.

The last scene had another kiss after the fight, and the curtain fell on our embrace. So we practiced that one as well! By the end of prep we had kissing down to a ‘T’.”

We sat down on the sofa, very conscious of the fact we were touching. Something had happened to us and I was confused. We chatted for a while, mostly I chatted and he listened. I told him all about what had happened to me, and he just asked an occasional question. His mind was not really with it, so I asked him what was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just am having feelings that I don’t understand.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like I want to be with you all the time, I like hearing your voice, and smelling your hair. I feel so guilty for all the nasty things I said and did to you. Because now I love it when you touch me, and I want to hold you in my arms and kiss you again. I feel that I don’t deserve you.”

I looked at him, and was even more confused. Because I felt similar feelings!

“Shit, Doug, what do we do?”

He shrugged.

“You are the expert in pretending, can we pretend we don’t care?”

I shook my head.

“I fooled no one. You even fancied me when you thought I was a boy.”

“I more than fancy you now,” he said, and looked down, embarrassed.

“Yeah, ditto,” I said, and he looked up and grinned.

“What, you fancy me?”

“No, I get damp knickers with every boy. Of course I do, you daft git. I just don’t know what we can do about it.”

“Nothing. We just go on as usual. We’d get into real trouble if anyone found out.”

“Okay, but maybe we could take a little time by ourselves, and work out what we do feel,” I said.

We heard the thunder of feet, and knew that our moment was over. I quickly kissed his cheek, and left him staring after me.
 
 
I wanted to tell someone, but couldn’t, as the risks were great in my mind, and yet really we had done nothing wrong. We were two young pubescent people, learning what it is to feel emotive and sexual feelings towards each other. I lay awake for ages that night, just remembering how I felt when he kissed me. My boobs ached, and in my naivety I believed it was because of him.
 
 
The next morning I realised that I was now a grown-up woman, as far as my body was concerned at any rate. I had some spots of blood on my sheet, and had to go to Matron and ask from some help.

She hooted with laughter, as she had been a prep-school matron for twenty years and I was her first period.

My tummy ached a little, and I felt bloated and fat. I was miserable during the day, and I wished my Mum was here. But I was still much happier than I had been as a boy.

I was obviously not my usual self, because everyone kept asking what was the matter with me. I kept saying nothing was, until Bruce drove me over the edge with his worried face and silly bloody questions.

“Look Bruce, I am having a period, so I feel like shit. But it is normal, and happens to all women, so please fuck off and leave me to be a miserable cow by myself.”

I stormed off, leaving him with a hurt expression.

Shit, another one to make up to later.
 
 
It lasted five days, and by the end of it I noticed everyone avoided me. This made me giggle, and so in the form room, I stood on my desk and made an announcement.

“Louise and boys. I can formally announce that my period is over, and I would like to rejoin the human race. If I have been a bitch over the last five days, tough. Get used to it, but I am not like that all the time. If I have hurt anyone’s feelings, particularly Bruce’s, then I am sorry, and hopefully, in twenty-eight days time you will learn to avoid me for about five days. It was nothing personal, but I reserve the right to be a cow when I’m on.”

I then got down, and there was much laughter. Even Bruce came over and I kissed his cheek to say sorry.

Doug looked daggers at Bruce, and I knew that both boys were getting rather too possessive of me.
 
 
The days became shorter and the weather became colder and wetter. November came and went, and Louise and I were often at the touchline shouting for our boys. Louise and Andy sort of drifted together, as much as twelve year olds can. I was still torn. I liked Bruce because of his loyalty, and Doug because he was hunky. However, I did not want to have to choose one over the other, as I wanted to keep both as friends.

Sex is such a sod. I thought. If it weren’t for my gender, there would be no problem, but then again, if it weren’t for my gender, I wouldn’t have the attention in the first place.

In all my lessons I was working really hard, and was more that satisfied with my work.

Mr Harris started getting us into the hall, which doubled as the theatre, and we began to rehearse the moving about as well as the lines. Mary Rogers was in charge of the costumes, and Louise and I were kitted out with some lovely 1920’s style flapper dresses. Louise played a funny waitress in the nightclub that I sang in, and I was given a long white silk dress, which was absolutely the business.

In these rehearsals, Doug and I avoided the kissing bits, by just having a quick peck on the lips.

“No, no, no! That is not how to kiss the woman you love. For goodness sakes boy, kiss her as if you mean it,” said Mr Harris.

We looked at each other and smiled. Then we kissed.

After ten seconds I forgot that we were being watched, and after twenty seconds, I was ready to lie down for him. At thirty seconds, Mr Harris almost had to prise us apart.

“Enough! Bloody hell boy, if it is not one thing, it’s another. Christina, don’t look as if you enjoyed that so much,” Mr Harris said, with a rueful smile.

“Sorry sir,” I said, grinning.

“Right, ten seconds is too long, so that one at twenty five was wholly inappropriate. Five seconds will be fine. Try again.”

It took us several practises to get it right. And it was fun trying.

“I swear you two are mucking this up on purpose,” Mr Harris said, and there was much general laughter.

We reached the stage whereby dress rehearsals were planned, and posters for the play started going up around the school. There were only three weeks left of term, and the play was to be performed over three days leading up to the last weekend. The Thursday was for the school, while the Friday and Saturday were for guests and parents. There was the Carol service on the Sunday, and then it was the end of term.

For the first time in my life, I was actually very happy at school, but wasn’t really looking forward to the holidays, as Rob was going to be at home, so I was dreading meeting him again.

Finally, the Thursday performance was upon us, and the curtain rose. I was very nervous, as I was in the first scene, singing in the busy nightclub. I had the long white dress on, which I adored, wearing shoes with three-inch high heels, and was rather overly made up. I wore long white gloves that came up almost to my armpits, so I felt one hundred percent vamp.

The play went down well, and because it was in front of the school, a certain amount of ad-libbing took place. Most lines were delivered on cue, and we even managed to kiss properly when required. Needless to say, there were hoots and whistles from the boys when Doug and I kissed, but I found myself excited by the whole event.

When I came out at the end to take my curtain call with Doug, the applause was deafening, and I loved it.

As we changed afterwards, Louise and I were in out tiny little room. I was standing in my bra and knickers, and the door burst open.

It was Bruce and Doug, things had obviously come to a head.

They saw me almost naked, so both looked confused and embarrassed.

“Well?” I said, hands on hips.

“Sorry, but we need you to choose!” said Bruce.

“Both of you, get out and let me change in peace,” I said crossly, so they left looking sheepish.

“Shit!” I said, and got dressed.

“Which one will you choose?” Louise asked.

“Neither, or both. Shit! I like them both. Why can’t we just all be friends?”

“Because they’re boys, so the feel they have to own you,” she said, rather wisely, I thought.

“Bugger! What a mess,” I said, and she giggled.

“It’s not funny,” I said.

“Yes it is. Besides those two, there are about six who think you walk on water. All you need to do is snap your fingers and they will all come running.”

“Rubbish!”

“True! I watch them as they watch you. Will has your photograph by his bed.”

“How would you know that?”

“Andy told me.”

“Little sod, how dare he?” I said.

“Don’t be silly, I think it's sweet.”

“Hmm,” I said, unconvinced.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked.

“Please. I feel I need some moral support.”
 
 
We finished changing and went out to face the two antagonists.

They were sitting a little way apart, looking mean and moody at each other. I almost started to laugh.

“Right you two, what’s this all about?”

“We need to know, who’s your boyfriend?” Bruce said, with Doug nodded in agreement.

“Really, why is that?”

“Because, we don’t really know.” Said Doug.

“Oh, have I been unclear?”

They looked at each other, frowning.

“Well, have I at any time demanded that either one be my single and exclusive property?”

They frowned even more, looking more confused.

“Have I?”

The both shook their heads.

“Have either of you demanded that I be your exclusive property?”

They shook their heads again.

“Then, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that slavery was abolished over one hundred years ago, and if none of us are capable of owning the other, then what's the problem?”

“This isn't about slavery, this is about being your boyfriend,” said Doug, quite reasonably.

“Oh, you mean like a husband and wife?”

They frowned again, shaking their heads.

“Look Bruce, and Doug. You're both boys, and after a lot of trouble, I believe I am a girl, so that needs one more additive, that we're all friends. So, just as Louise is my girl friend, you are my boy friends, I am your girl friend. I don’t own you, and I like you both for different reasons. Look guys, I'm not after a husband yet, and I don't even want to get serious yet.

“If you want me to choose one over the other, then you're asking too much, because I love you both to bits! If you can’t handle the competition then I will understand, but let’s not get silly here, there's room in my heart for you both, can’t you just accept that?”

They looked at each other, and sort of smiled. I kissed them both to show I really didn’t have a preference, and made them shake hands. I had only postponed trouble, as I knew that this issue would rear its ugly head again.
I took both their arms, and allowed them take me over to the main school.
 
 
The Friday performance was to be in front of guests and parents, so I was very nervous. Mr Harris had the whole cast over for the afternoon, and we went through the whole play, ironing out the glitches from the previous performance.
None of us had been perfect, as all had made some mistakes. I had been too over the top, so was asked to tone down the sexuality.

“You are a singer, not a prostitute. You seemed to want to show everyone what you have, and it was too much.”
Louise was too timid, while Bruce had taken too long to die.

“No one who has been shot four times thrashes about for forty seconds. A little thrash is fine, and then just die.”
We went and changed, as the hall gradually filled up.

I was outside, just having a calm moment, when Douglas came and found me.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, okay?”

“Yup. I just wanted to see you.”

“Here I am, what’s up?”

“I just wanted you to know. I think I love you,” he said.

The bastard!

Why the hell did he want to say something like that just before I had to go on stage?
 
 
“Doug, good timing,” I said, and walked off.

He followed, calling after me.

I stopped.

“Look, I just had to tell you, I haven’t slept in days. I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Oh Doug, why now? Couldn’t it wait a couple of days?”

“No. It couldn’t. I love you Christina!”

He took me in his arms, and nuzzled his face in the nape of my neck. With my heels on, I was almost as tall as he. He was wearing his dark double-breasted suit.

“Okay. You’ve told me. Now let’s go do the play,” I said.

He looked at me, but I knew what he was after.

“I'm fond of you too, maybe it's love, I don’t know, so let’s talk about this later, okay?”

He grinned and nodded, his face lighting up. God, why were boys so easy to please?

We took our places, and the curtain rose.
 
 
This performance went brilliantly - ten times better than the last one. But the kisses were rather too hot, and there could have been very little doubt that the passion behind them was not an act. Louise enjoyed the laughs her lines produced, so really lost her timidity. By the end her face was flushed and she was grinning from ear to ear.

I had enjoyed the applause on the first night, but it was nothing compared to the second night. I glowed with pleasure as I curtseyed holding Douglas’s hand.

He then surprised me, let go, and stepped back, leaving me alone at the front, as the applause increased.
I turned and asked the rest to join me and they did. It was great!

Mr Harris was ecstatic, and was full of praise for everyone, even Bruce who had overdone the death scene again. But he had got some laughs, and his parents were in the audience so it was for their benefit.

Louise and I changed, but knew there was no rush. Louise’s parents were staff, so they had watched the first night, while my parents were coming to the Saturday performance.

We chatted about the play, going over the best bits.

Then we left the hall and Louise went to pop in at her parents’ house to drop something off. I walked back to the main school.

“Hey, wait up!”

It was Douglas.

“Hi Doug,” I said, and he grinned.

He took my hand, so I let him hold it as we walked slowly back to the main building.

“Are you doing anything in the holidays?” he asked.

“I don’t know. There will be the usual Christmas fuss, but apart from that, I haven’t a clue,” I said.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“Near Guildford. About twenty miles south of here. How about you?”

“North. The other side of Slough. Beaconsfield.”

“Not that far then?”

“Nope.”

“So, you going away?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. Would you mind if we got together sometime over the hols?”

“I’d like that.”

He grinned. “I meant what I said!”

“I know,” I replied.

He stopped.

“Look, I know we’re young, but I still can’t stop thinking about you. I thought about you even when I thought you were a boy, but now, it's so different.”

“So I should hope,” I teased.

“You’re so beautiful, I just want to be with you all the time.”

“You’re very sweet, but I don’t know if I’m ready for a heavy relationship. I’ve not really got used to being a girl yet.”

“You're such a beautiful one.”

“Oh, Douglas, back down a little. You make me feel good, but I’m afraid of anything happening too fast. Please?”

“Okay, as long as you know how I feel.”

“I do, and I guess I feel almost the same about you too, but then I feel like that about several people.”

“Yeah, but it’s my hand you are holding, right?”

I looked at our linked hands and had to nod. They felt right, as we fitted together so well.

“Right!”

He kissed me then. It wasn’t a rehearsal, or a play, it was because he wanted to, and I found I wanted him to as well.
It was a gentle kiss, it told me he loved me and he was willing to wait. My heart fluttered again. I was even more confused.

“I’ll see you,” he said, and was gone.

“Shit!” I said out loud, going inside.
 
 
The curtain fell on the last production, as Doug and I were still locked in a passionate embrace.

“Okay you two, you can stop now,” said Mr Harris.

The applause was very loud on the other side of the curtain, so we parted, grinning sheepishly.

The whole cast got together for the final curtain, and I once more bathed in the sound of being clapped. I saw my parents were halfway back in the hall. Then my heart sank, as my brother Rob was with them.

There was a party afterwards for the cast and support team, where we were allowed to wear own clothes. So I changed into my denim mini skirt and a nice pink fluffy sweater. I cleaned off the stage makeup, applying a little of my own, leaving my earrings in. I put on my nice knee length boots with the high heels, and knew I looked a lot older than twelve.

I went and met my parents, who were in the hall enjoying mulled wine with the staff.
Mum gave me a huge hug, gushing over how brilliant I had been. Then Daddy hugged me, and I stood there as Rob looked at me.

“Hi Christina,” he said, he looked very unsure, but had obviously been told to come and speak to me by Mummy.

“Hi Rob,” I said, my voice flat and neutral.

“You were brilliant,” he said, full of smiles.

“Thanks,” I was being very guarded, as I really hated my brother.

“Can we go somewhere and have a chat?” he said

“If you want,” I said, cautiously.

I took him to the classroom next door. He perched on a desk.

“Look, I don’t really know how to put this, but I realise I was a bit tough on you.”

“A bit tough? Rob, you were an utter bastard, and I’ve hated you for a very long time!” I said, the anger was rising in me now.

He was unable to look me in the eye.

“Okay, I was an utter bastard. I realise that now. Mum has explained everything to me, so I feel really bad about it.”

“Good,” I said.

He smiled uncertainly. “Look, I know I can’t undo the things I did to you, but at least help me be the brother to you that I should be?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you are the most beautiful little sister that I could wish for, and I am so sorry about how I treated you. I have no excuse, I just didn’t understand, and I deserve your hatred.”

I looked at him. He looked so miserable that my anger seemed to dissolve.

“You were so utterly beastly, I cried my self to sleep often,” I said, trying to impress on him the depths of despair I had suffered at his hands.

“I know, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“I understand. As I said, I am so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it all better.”

“I know.”

“Shit Rob, I was so bloody unhappy because of you.”

He stood up, and held out his arms.

“I know. It will never happen again, ever.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“You bloody will if you do. I’ll kill you myself!” I said, and he smiled.

I let him hug me.

“When I saw you on stage, I couldn’t believe it was you. Even now, you are so beautiful, I almost wish you weren’t my sister.” he said,

“Rob, behave! I am your sister, and believe me, even if you weren’t and if you were the last bloke on the planet, I still wouldn’t touch you!”

He laughed. “That’s my girl.”

“You’re a bastard, Rob.”

“I know.”

“I mean it!”

“I know.”

“Sod!”

“I know.”

“Oh, shut up!”
 
 
We went back into the hall, and my mother looked anxiously at us. Then her expression changed to one of relief when she saw we had made up.

Mr Rogers was talking to Dad, and as soon as he saw me, he smiled.

“Here she is, the star herself,” he said, and I blushed.

“Well done, Christina, a super performance, your best yet.”

“Thanks sir,” I said.

“Hello young Rob, how are you getting on?”

“Fine thanks sir. Lower sixth now, got into the first XV this term.”

“Good, still got your eyes on a commission in the army?”

“Yes sir. I am a sergeant in the CCF now, I am hoping for university sponsorship.”

“Good, yes I have always thought you do that. What do you make of your sister?”

“She is utterly amazing. I just feel so bad for being such an arse towards her for so long.”

“Quite! Is that right, Christina?”

“Absolutely,” I said, and Rob grinned. I found I didn’t hate him anymore.

“You must be very proud of her, Carol?”

“I am, considering all she has been through, she is wonderful.”

“For my next trick, I shall walk on water,” I said, getting fed up with the Christina Drewett appreciation society.

“Are you all coming up for the carol service tomorrow?”

“No, just me,” said Mum. “The men are chickening out.”

“Pity, you have a solo, don’t you Christina?”

“Yes, so I was told this morning.”

“Really?” asked Mr Rogers, shocked.

“No, I have actually been practicing for a couple of weeks. But the play has sort of taken precedence.”

“Fine, well you will miss her singing. She has a lovely voice.”

Daddy and Rob looked guilty, and I grinned at them, Carol services just weren’t their thing.

Mr Rogers moved off, and I spent some time chatting with Rob. I found we knew very little about each other, and I actually found I wanted to get to know him again.

“Chris?”

I turned and found Douglas, and two people who could only be his parents.

“Hi Doug,” I said.

“Chris, my parents want to meet you,” he said, and introduced me to them.

Mrs Evans was a very pretty lady, and she was very complimentary about the play and my performance in particular. She was also from America, and had a southern accent.

“Your accent was so perfect, I had to ask Douglas whether you were from the states,” she said.

“Thanks. I wondered how Doug knew so much about the southern accent. Now I know.”

“He is kinda shy about me being from the states, and I don’t understand why?”

“Neither do I, I love your accent,” I said.

“Why thank you, Honey. Have you ever been there?”

“America? No, but I’d love to one day.”

“I come from Louisiana, but we have a family holiday home in St Petersburg, in Florida, and we are going there for New Years. Why don’t you come with us, it’s only for two weeks?”

“Me? Come with you? I don’t think I could afford the airfare. But it is a lovely thought,” I said.

“Oh Honey, we’ll pay your fare, Douglas has never had a girl friend before, so it’ll be fun.”

I was staggered. I looked for Mum so I could ask her, and she was deep in conversation with Miss Bawdrey.

“I shall have to ask my mother, but I’d really love to come. Thanks.”

“Is your Mom here?”

“Yes, she is over there, and Daddy and Rob are over there, getting even more wine.”

“So you have a brother, he is what, seventeen?”

“He will be seventeen in March, I also have a sister who is a year and a bit older than me.”

“We only have Douglas. I wanted more, but it wasn’t possible,” she said, and Douglas was looking embarrassed.
 
 
We threaded our way through to Mum, and I introduced her to Mrs Evans. I explained about the invitation and left them to it.

I moved to one side with Douglas.

“What’s this about never having a girlfriend before?” I asked, and he grinned.

“Mum asked me about you, and she kept on asking whether there was anything between us, so I said, sort of. I told her that you were the nearest I had ever had to being a girlfriend I had ever had. I even said that you had given me my first kiss!”

“You told her that?” I said, going red.

“Mum has a way of getting information from me.”

I was embarrassed.

“She adores you. She asked me all about you, and thought you were from the Deep South. I had to explain you were English and just a bloody good actress. She was dying to meet you. I didn’t know about the invitation and was as surprised as you when it came out.”

“Are you really an only child?”

“Yes, I had a younger sister, but she died of leukaemia when she was four, and they couldn’t have any more.”

He paused and looked pained.

“What?” I asked.

“She was called Christina,” he said.

“Really? No wonder she looked at me all gooey. What a bummer. So you're all alone?”

“Not really, I have you.”

“Doug, stop it!”

“Sorry,” he said, and grinned.

“No you aren’t,” I replied, and smiled anyway.

“They want us,” he said, and saw my mother waving.

We went to them.

“Linda has told us about their very kind invitation to join them in Florida, do you want to go?”

“I’d love to, if that’s all right?”

“Of course, now, are you sure we can’t pay for her flights or anything?” she asked Linda Evans.

“No, that’s fine. It will be so nice to have her along, I am always out numbered by the men folk, so it will be just fabulous to have another girl.”

Mum looked at me with such an expression, that I could only just stop myself from laughing.
 
 
So, it was all arranged. I would meet them at Heathrow Airport for the Pan-American Airlines flight to Tampa, on the Boxing day! We would be out in Florida until the 7th, and arrive back on the early morning of the 8th January 1971. I had two days before going back to school.

The Carol service went smoothly, and I sang my solo. I was interested to note that my voice had changed. I had been a classic treble, but according to Mr Beecham, the music teacher, I was developing into a soprano.

Dad and Rob still chickened out, but Mum was there for me. We had got really close over the last few weeks. We had a bond between us, and I knew that nothing would ever break it. Her smile said it all, as I walked towards where she waited for me. I knew that she was proud of me, and that no matter what had happened, she loved me as me, as a boy or a girl, I was her child. The fact I was now her daughter was almost irrelevant, and I loved her for it.

Douglas appeared and helped me carry my stuff. Then Bruce appeared and carried the rest. Mum watched with quiet amusement as did Linda Evans, and Bruce’s mother, who was slightly confused.

She came up to Mum, and took her to one side.

“Carol, I know this might seem a daft question, but just how did any of us actually believe that child was a boy?”

Mum laughed and had to explain my ‘problem’ to Linda. She was rather surprised, and I could tell she was going to ask Douglas all about it.
 
 
All three of them found it amusing that here were two twelve year old boys competing so ferociously for my attentions. I gave each of them a kiss on the cheek, and thanked them for being sweet.
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
It was weird coming home, as both Shelly and Rob were already there as they had broken up a few days before me. I had never come home as a girl before, and everything was strange.

But it was as if everything was as it should be, except Rob was so nice to me, and I half expected him to become all nasty again, but he never was. Shelly and I soon formed a strong friendship, and it was lovely to have some one to talk to about girly things. Louise was fine, and a good mate, but she was even more naíve than me, and I often yearned to talk about my feelings and the newness of it all. Believing you are a transsexual trapped in the wrong body doesn’t half make you grow up quick.

Christmas was the best ever. I was so pleased that all the family was together, and everyone bought me clothes and makeup. I had always been quite difficult to buy things for, but now I suddenly was so easy.

Shelly and I went Christmas shopping a few days after I broke up from school. We had a real hoot. Shopping was so much fun, and we spent all day and a lot of money. We sat in a Wimpy bar for lunch, and Shelly leaned across and kept her voice low.

“Chris, why is it you look older than you are?”

I shrugged. “Do I?”

She nodded.

“You have almost bigger breasts than me, and we are the same height. A couple of people have asked me whether you were older than I am,” she said. She was going to be fourteen in August, and was a little miffed that her little sister was as developed as she was.

“Have you had the curse yet?” she asked.

“Twice.”

“I started when I was eleven,” she said, and for some silly reason she seemed pleased about that.

“You can have it, it stinks,” I said, so we laughed together.

“So, what was it like?”

“What being a boy, or knowing I was a girl and not being able to be one?”

“Both I suppose.”

“It was like living through a bad dream. The joy was finding out I had been a girl all along, and now being what I always knew I was. I wasn’t very happy, Shell.”

“I know. I wasn’t too nasty to you, was I?”

“No, you were fine. Rob was the utter bastard. I really hated him!”

“What happened, he seems to have changed?”

“We had words at school when he came and watched the play. I think he now realises how horrible he was.”

“You didn’t forgive him?”

“Shelly, he’s my brother. Let’s put it this way, I don’t trust him, but while he is nice to me, I am happy leaving the past in the past.”

“I’d make him pay.”

“Some day I just might. Like on his wedding day, I might just have some embarrassing evidence to produce. But at the moment he’s fine.”

We finished our lunch and finished shopping. We were quite tired when we finally caught the bus home, laden with carrier bags.

We found that Dad had bought a Christmas tree, so we spent the evening decorating it. I found myself completely comfortable with who I was, as it seemed the most natural thing in the world. It was as if I was suddenly allowed to be me for the first time ever, as I had only ever been pretending to be someone else before.
 
 
Christmas day was quiet. We had both sets of grandparents over, and I could tell that Mum had explained everything to them.

The atmosphere was a little awkward, as I answered the door to Mum’s parents, and they mistook me for Shelly. We called them Papa and Gran, whereas Dad’s parents were knows as Grandpa and Nan.

“Hello Shelly.” said Gran, “You’re looking well.”

“Hi Gran, thanks, but I’m Christina.” I said, taking her coat.

She stared at me for a moment, and then gave me an enormous hug.

“Oh, how silly of me! My, you definitely are a girl, aren’t you?”

“Yup!” I said, grinning. Papa came in and looked at me.

“Chris?”

“Hi Papa,” I said, and he just smiled and opened his arms up, so I went over for a cuddle.

Grandpa and Nan were more with-it, and they behaved as if nothing had changed. It was a lovely day and I was spoiled rotten. Everyone gave me clothes, books and record tokens, so I did very well.

Nan took me to one side when we had just finished washing up.

“What’s this about you going to America with a boyfriend for two weeks?” she said, and I giggled.

I told her about Douglas, which then led onto Bruce, so I ended up telling her about all the boys and that I loved being a girl.

She in turn started telling me all about her young days, when all the boys that had been after her. She had been my age during the First World War, so it had affected her deeply. She had met Grandpa when he went to a convalescent home near her home in Gloucestershire.

He had been a young pilot officer in the Royal Flying Corps, and he had been shot down and broken both legs. He had walked with a limp ever since, but he was still very fit as he took their two Labradors for a walk every day.

I found that by just being a girl, I was immediately closer to my Nan, as she talked to me as an equal for the first time in my life.
 
 
Boxing Day arrived with a slight flurry of snow. I spent ages trying to decide what to wear. Mum and I had packed the night before, so I ended up dressing like an onion.

I wore several layers, so that I could deal with the cold. Then, as I arrived in the warmth of Florida, I could strip down accordingly. I chose my denim skirt and a pair of tights, which could be easily removed. I wore a tee shirt under a pullover, with a leather jacket I had been given for Christmas.

Dad drove me to Heathrow, where I met the Evans family in the check-in area by the Pan-Am check-in desks.

Dad gave me a hug and told me to behave myself, and handed me a wad of US dollars.

“Pay your own way, and take the Evans out for a meal at the end of the holiday, if you have any money left,” he said.

We checked in our bags and walked through to the departure lounge. I waved at Dad, as he watched me until I was out of sight.

Douglas was really excited having me along, and kept grinning at me. I had been on three planes before. We had gone to Spain in 1966, when I had been eight. It had been an Iberia Lockheed Super Constellation with four sets of propellers.

Then in 1969 we went back, this time on a BEA Trident, and I had once flown to Edinburgh on a Vanguard. I couldn’t remember exactly when.

This time it was one of the brand new Boeing 747 ‘Jumbo’ jets, and it was enormous. Douglas and I watched out of the huge window, and it seemed so big that it could never possibly get off the ground.

“I overheard Mum talking to Dad, just now,” Douglas said.

“Oh yes?”

“She was saying that you look so grown up, it is hard to imagine that I am at an age to have such a pretty girlfriend.”

I smiled. “Look, Doug. I’m a bit worried we are running to fast. It is all very new for me, so just remember that, please?”

“Sure. It's new for me too. I’m just so happy you have come with us! You don’t know what it would be like on my own.”

“Haven’t you family or friends in Florida?”

“I have my cousins. They've a home not far away, but they're a bit younger. Uncle Matthew and Aunty Marie are a bit younger than my parents.”

“So, which one has your mum as a sister?”

“Uncle Matt. He's a property developer.”

“Rich?”

“Not especially, but he's on the way.”

“So, what cousins have you got?”

“Three, George is eleven, Cassie is nine, and then Howie is nearly eight.”

“I can see that you would get bored. They're quite a bit younger. Apart from George.”

“George is alright, I suppose. But to be honest, I find most of the American kids really weird.”

We watched the planes for a bit, and then he took out his little portable chess/draughts set and we played some chess until the flight was called.

I found it all quite exciting, and the plane seemed brand new. The American Stewardesses seemed very different and the interior of the plane was simply enormous. The staircase up to the upper level seemed really odd, and it was more like a ship than a plane.

I was given the window seat, so Douglas was next to me. His parents were directly behind us, as Linda liked a window as well. It seemed to take ages to get everyone on the plane, but eventually we pushed back, and taxied to the runway for take off.

I tried to imagine the sight of this huge beast rumbling along the runway, the four large jet engines screaming as it reached the speed to get the lift under the wings. With a slight lurch the nose rose and we were in the air.

London drifted away from us as we gained height, and I saw Windsor Castle and the river Thames.
 
 
The upper deck was a bar, and once we reached cruising height, people started moving about. Douglas and I went for a look, and while we were there, the second officer came out from the flight deck.

“Hi kids. Enjoying the flight?” he said, he was American, and it was almost as if we were already there.

“Brilliant,” said Douglas, and I just nodded and smiled.

“Would you like to see the flight deck?”

Stupid question.

We were taken in and stood behind the pilot’s chair. There were four positions, and it was so quiet. The rows of dials and switches seemed very complex, and I wondered how they managed to remember everything.

The Captain explained what everything was for, and allowed us to sit in the co-pilot’s seat.

Douglas went first, and his eyes lit up. He asked some really intelligent questions, and even the captain was surprised.

“You seem to know a bit about planes, do you want to be a pilot when you leave school?”

Doug nodded.

“I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to, but I can’t make my mind up between the RAF and civil airlines.”

The captain chuckled.

“I’ll give you some advice, there is less chance of getting shot down in an airliner.”

“I accept that, but then you don’t have an ejector seat in one of these.”

“If we needed them, we’d have them,” the older man said and smiled.

Douglas reluctantly left the seat and I slid into his place. There wasn’t a lot to see, just the top of the clouds and blue sky!

“Have you ever seen a UFO?” I asked, scanning the open sky, hopefully.

“Not yet, but I live in hope.”

“Don’t you get bored?” I asked, seeing that the auto-pilot was on.

“Sometimes, but then I’m paid for those moments where the computer can’t fly the plane.”

I looked at all the dials and levers, and smiled.

“So, little lady, what do you want to do with your life?”

I thought for a moment, and looked him in the eye.

“I honestly don’t know. But whatever it is, I’d like to make a difference.”

He stared at me, and then a smile came to his face.

“That is a wonderful answer. What do you like doing?” he asked.

“Lots of things, but then there are lots of things I think I will enjoy that I haven’t tried yet, like sex. But I hardly think I will be able to earn a living at it.”

This caused the entire flight crew to laugh, and Douglas went red.

“Oh, I don’t know. How old are you?” the first officer asked.

“Twelve.”

“Come see me when you are eighteen, and we could do a deal,” he said, with a naughty grin. "Seriously, you are a pretty girl now, why don’t you try for the movies?” asked the second officer.

I blushed, but felt really pleased.
 
 
We returned to our seats and watched a movie. They supplied us with food and drinks, and it was all fun. I put my watch back five hours, as it was now only five in the morning in Florida.

After four hours, I had had enough. But it was nice being with Douglas. We played games and chatted. When we ran out of things to say, we read or watched the movies and cartoons.

I watched the stewardesses at work, and decided that there was one job you could have. Travel and exotic places were fine, but they worked bloody hard. It wasn’t as depicted in the posters. They dealt with vomit, filthy toilets, and awkward and drunk passengers. They seemed to smile a lot, but the smiles were forced for much of the time.

I dozed for a while, and woke up to see Linda watching me, for my head had fallen onto Douglas’s shoulder, and his head was touching mine as we both slept.

She smiled at me, and went off to the loo.

When the Captain announced that we were finally landing at Miami, I was grateful. However, I knew we had a transfer to get to Tampa.

Florida was hot!
 
 
I went to the loo just as we descended, brushed my hair and washed my face. I put on a little make up, and made sure that the tights came off before we left the plane. They joined my pullover in my bag.

We got in line for Immigration, and as Linda was a US Citizen, it was easier. The bags were on direct transfer, so we had an hour to get to the next flight.

I was really warm, so took off my leather jacket. I smiled as I saw my first palm trees, and the hot sun. This is what holidays should feel like. The Christmas decorations seemed out of place, particularly as it had been snowing as we left England.

We stretched our legs, and Douglas and his Dad went to the loo. I stayed with Linda at the gate.

“Did you enjoy the flight?”

“It was okay. It was a bit long.”

“Well, this one is only forty five minutes. We have driven it in the past, and it takes hours.”

“I wouldn’t mind, I’d like to see the sights,” I said.

Linda smiled at me.

“Did Douglas tell you about our Christina?” she asked.

“Yes. It must have been awful for you.”

“It was. But life goes on. Douglas is such a good boy, and having you along is so nice,” she said.

I smiled. There wasn’t much I could say.

“How did you learn to speak with an American Accent so well for the play?”

“Doug helped, and I watched some old movies.”

“Do you like acting?”

“Yes, it was fun.”

“You were very good. By far the best.”

“Really? I don’t know. Doug was good.”

“He was only good because you were opposite him. It was obvious you had a thing going.”

I went a little red. “A thing?” I asked.

She laughed. “Honey, those kisses were not acting. I should know, I’m a woman too.”

I grinned sheepishly. “I suppose so, but I don’t want to get silly. We're only twelve.”

“Good girl, but you act and look older.”

“I may do, but I feel very young sometimes. I never got to be the little girl that other girls go through.”

“I keep forgetting, that must have been a nightmare. Though to look at you, one would never know.”

“It was pretty awful, but I’m happy now,” I said.

She smiled at me.

“So how about trying out some of that Southern Belle on me?” she asked.

So we chatted away, with me trying to speak with an accent that mirrored hers.

She suddenly burst out in peals of laughter.

“Oh, how wonderful! You are a natural, Honey. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a pure bred Louisiana Gal.”

I grinned with pleasure.

We saw the guys coming back, so she leaned across.

“Just keep it up, and let’s see how long it takes for them to notice.”

Not long was the answer.
 
 
Douglas looked at me in a funny way immediately, and his Dad wasn’t long to follow suit. Both were kind enough to say that I sounded very believable.

We boarded the smaller plane, a Boeing 727, and within an hour we touched town at Tampa Airport.

Linda’s brother, Matthew, was waiting for us. He was a big man, slightly overweight, and he seemed pleased to see his sister and her family.

Linda put a hand on my shoulder.

“Matt, this is Christina Drewett, Douglas’ friend.”

He shook my hand, and looked at Douglas.

“Well, Doug, it is good to see you have fine taste in women already.”

We both blushed, and he took the four of us to a large 4x4 in the parking lot.
 
 
I found the scenery fascinating. I don’t know what I expected, a little more order and neatness, I suppose. Everything was in square blocks, but the buildings and cables seemed very haphazard. The huge billboards and adverts everywhere were weird, and the gigantic cars seemed very odd.

The drive took about forty minutes and I was feeling tired, even though it was only five in the evening. Their house, when we arrived, was a nice modern one, with a driveway and a pool in the back yard (garden). Matthew dropped us off and helped with the luggage. He waved and muttered about seeing us later.

There were five bedrooms, and a basement. All the rooms were doubles, and the one I had even had an en suite bathroom.

I heard an almighty splash, and saw Douglas already in the pool. He hadn’t even unpacked, just slung on his trunks and jumped in.

I hung my dresses up, so they didn’t get any more creased. And only then did I put on my swimsuit. I dived in, and it was so warm and lovely. It was so weird swimming outside in December.

I swam a few lengths rapidly, and when I stopped I saw Linda and Scott were sitting on the recliners watching us.

“My, you swim beautifully,” said Linda.

“She won all the competitions last year,” said Douglas.

“I can believe it, but is that your only swimsuit?” she asked.

I looked down at my Speedo. It was fine, I really liked it.

“Yes, why?”

“Tomorrow, you and me are gonna go do some real shopping. You need to get yourself a cool little bikini,” she said.

Douglas went and got some bottles of Coke from the fridge.

“Why, thank you, sir,” I said, in a Southern drawl, as he handed me one.

He grinned and slipped back into the pool beside me. His parents joined us, and I swam another few lengths. Doug tried to keep up with me, but failed.

After another half an hour, Linda told us to get out.

“We are going over to Uncle Matt’s for diner, so dress nice,” she said.

I showered and washed my hair. I then chose a pretty yellow mini dress, as it was cool, and I had a cardigan that I could slip on if I got cold. I applied my makeup carefully, and thought I made myself look at least sixteen. I made a kiss at my reflection, and my mind immediately cast back to that day when my mother had caught me dressing in Shelly’s clothes.

I had come a long way since then.
 
 
It was only a short drive to their cousin’s home. And I could smell the barbeque as soon as we got out of the car.

“Cristina, do me a favour, Honey, try your accent, and see what happens,” Linda said, with a conspiratorial smile.

So as we went in, and I was introduced, I spoke with the southern accent all the time. It caused a few little frowns amongst the grown ups, but no comments were passed. The kids didn’t notice. George was much smaller than Douglas, even though he was only a little more than a year younger.

Cassie was pleased to see me, as family gatherings were very boy heavy. I learned that Cassie was short for Cassandra, and that she thought David Cassidy was the business.

I said that I was into the Beatles, the Kinks and Rolling Stones, and she took me off to her room to hear some of her records. Doug came too, as he always liked being near me.

“So where are you from?” Cassie asked.

“Near Guildford,” I said, as she put on a Beach Boys album.

She frowned.

“Where’s that?”

“Not far from London,” I said, as I was still using the accent.

“Oh, in England. I mean where do you really come from?”

“You mean, like Louisiana?” I asked.

“Yeah!”

“Near Guildford,” I said, and Doug laughed.

“Oh, stop joshing me. I can tell you ain’t English, so really, where are you from?” she asked, getting faintly cross.

I dropped the accent.

“Really, Cassie, I am from Guildford in Surrey. I am English,” I said, and her jaw dropped.

“I don’t believe you. You just can do good accents.”

I smiled, and Doug tried to convince her I was in fact English.

In the end she believed him, almost.

We had a very pleasant meal, and by the end I was feeling quite tired. I had been up for almost 24 hours.

By the time I climbed into by bed, I was ready to sleep, and I don’t even remember turning the light out.
 
 
The holiday was so different to anything I had experienced. I was taken shopping, as Douglas and his father went to have a game of golf. Linda treated me to a ridiculously expensive amount of super clothes, and I sensed she was making up for missing having a daughter of her own.

My breasts were really quite respectable now, and I know I looked older than twelve. Several times in the mall, young men would just come over and say ‘Hi!” I loved it. Linda was obviously quite concerned, and it made me smile.

She made me try on a tiny bikini, which hardly hid anything, and before I knew it she had bought me two, one white and one black.

“The white one you wear when you are still pale, as it will make you seem more tanned, and the black one will accentuate the tan when you are really bronzed.”

She bought me hats, shorts, halter-tops and sandals. She paid for me to have a make over, manicure and to have my hair done. She spoiled me rotten, and I loved every minute.
 
 
After lunch, she took me to the beach, and we just lay in the sun and read. It was so nice not doing anything, and I was quite glad that Douglas was having time with his father. Linda was actually quite a lonely person. I felt she missed having her family close by living in England. That she loved her husband was never in doubt, but she felt very cut off from her roots which were in America.

We chatted quite a bit, and she was fascinated by my story. I could tell she found it hard to believe that I hadn’t always been a girl, and she kept telling me how pretty I was.

For me, it was a wonderful tonic. For so long I had been the ugly duckling, full of confusion and mixed up. Now I was finally the person I had always wanted to be, and it was so lovely.

The Gulf of Mexico was still cool, and a few people were swimming. I had a couple of dips, and Linda declined. I found it a real blast being on a beach in December.

We met up with the boys back at the house, and Doug came swimming with me. He liked my Bikini, and tried to remove my top.
 
 
The next day, I slept late, and was woken up by Douglas as he tickled my ear with a palm frond. His parents had gone to the market to get provisions in before New Year, so we were alone in the house.

For the first time I felt sexually vulnerable and afraid, mainly of my own desires and feelings than of Douglas. Douglas was very affectionate, as we had a breakfast on the poolside. I was wearing my bikini, so he was obviously aroused.

Having never really been a proper boy, I was fascinated by his erection. He was quite embarrassed, so jumped into the pool.

I followed and chased him, and tried to pull his shorts down. He managed to turn the tables and took my top off. I felt a really odd feeling, as my breasts were bared to him. My nipples became rock hard, and my crotch seemed to swell.

He taunted me and I made no effort to cover up.

He stopped and looked at me. His erection threatened to split his shorts, so I advanced slowly towards him.

He looked at me, licking his lips. I could tell that he was more uncertain than I.

I slowly reached out my hand and stroked the outside of his shorts. As I felt his hardness, he seemed to squirm. I slipped my hand into his shorts, wrapping my fingers round it.

It was so warm and I loved the way it felt.

He touched my breasts, so I moved in closer to him.

“Kiss me!” I ordered and he complied.

All my innards turned to jelly, so I stroked his throbbing erection. I felt his fingers pull my bikini panties down, and I opened my legs slightly! His fingers toughed my slit, then my clitoris, and I gasped with pleasure as he touched me.

We got out of the pool and lay on the grass.

“You are all wet,” he said, between kisses.

“All the better for you to slide into me,” I said, and he looked very worried.

I smiled.

“In a few years,” I added.

I kept stroking him, but he suddenly made some grunting noises and ejaculated into my hand. I was fascinated, I hadn’t realised quite how much power I could have over a boy.

He was rubbing me very fast. I shuddered as I came, warm liquid gushing all over his hand.

Now I understood how young girls became mothers.

I slipped my bikini top back on again, and jumped into the pool.

He sat on the side and watched me. I swam over and leaned on my elbows on the pool edge.

“Shit, Chris, that was amazing.”

“Mmm, wasn’t it?”

“Does this change anything?” he asked.

“I don’t see how. We are just learning about each other. As long as you keep that out of me, then I don’t see we have a problem.”

“Its funny, but I really wanted to put it inside you.”

“It’s not funny, because I really wanted you to,” I admitted.

“Shit!”

He sat on the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the water. I moved so I was leaning on his knees, with my head between his legs.

I started to wonder what it would be like to take him into my mouth, but decided that that would have to wait.

It was none to soon, for at that moment his parents arrived home.
 
 
The two weeks went very quickly. We went to various theme parks and attractions, but most of the time we mucked about in the pool or at the beach. Douglas and his father even took me to play golf, which I actually quite enjoyed, but I realised that if I went, Doug missed out on a special time with his father.

So, I often declined, and would go shopping with Linda. Sometimes we went visiting some of her friends and relatives, of which she seemed to have quite a few in the area. I think I earned some brownie points for that, as although Linda didn’t say anything, I was left with the impression that Doug’s time with his father was important.

I ate far too much, but swam a lot, so felt myself getting very fit. I would get up at about eight and swim fifty lengths before breakfast every morning. With all the sunbathing I was doing I got a superb tan. I was a real deep honey brown, and my already blonde hair was bleached almost white.

Our sexual frolicking never advanced any. We enjoyed a little titillation of the kind we tried that first day, not because we didn’t want to go further, but because both of us feared the implications of that further experimentation and where it would take us.
 
 
New Year was fun!

We got together with the cousins and loads of their friends, and had a huge party. We had a barbeque on the beach, so I went skinny dipping at midnight. It was an amazingly erotic experience, with the cool water on my naked skin. The simple knowledge that I was naked, and so was Douglas, was enough to get me going. But there were too many people about to see how far!

I found myself feeling rather too fond of Douglas, which was odd considering that I had loathed him with a passion a few months earlier. Doug was obviously more than fond of me as well, so I was careful to try and make it clear that we shouldn’t get too heavy at our age.

The situation wasn’t helped by Linda, who had decided to semi-adopt me. She treated me like the daughter she had lost, and although she was never unkind or even suffocating, it started to feel a little oppressive.

I mentioned it to Doug and he shrugged.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, but for the first time in my life she treats me as my real age, instead of a little boy. So as it is only for a couple more days, just grin and bear it.”

I was very sad to leave, and everyone made me promise to come back. I had to smile and mutter, “I hope so!”

We had an overnight flight home, and I actually went to sleep. By the time we landed at Heathrow, I was ready for the day that was just breaking.

Daddy met me at the airport, looking a little shocked as I walked out through the arrivals door. I was in a black leather mini skirt, with a black sweater and my leather jacket. Linda had insisted in buying me some black high heeled boots to finish the outfit, and with my long hair, I knew I looked pretty good.

“My goodness, you look very well,” he said, as I gave him a hug.

He gave the others a lift to their car in the long-term car park, and we said goodbye to them there. Douglas and I would see each other again in a couple of days, but I thanked his parents so much for the most wonderful holiday.

I was quiet on the way home, partially because I was tired after the long flight, and partially because I had a lot on my mind.

Dad asked loads of questions, which I answered as best as I could. He smiled, shaking his head.

“What?” I asked.

“My little girl has gone and grown up,” he said.

“Not really, I think everything is happening very fast. People’s expectations seem to determine what happens, so sometimes I want to stop the world and get off,” I admitted.

“Welcome to the real world, Chris.”

I smiled. “I am glad to be home, even if it is so bloody cold,” I said, and shivered.

“I don’t wonder, in that skirt,” he said with a chuckle.

I tried to pull it down a little, and failed.

He frowned. “You really are growing up, you know?”

“I know. It’s getting a bit worrying,” I said, grinning at him.
 
 
We arrived home, and Mum came out to meet us. I gave her the orange tree in a pot I had bought specially. I had a Miami Dolphins shirt for Rob, and a new bikini like mine for Shelly.

I went and put on the thickest pair of jeans I had, plus two sweaters. I was still cold.
 
 

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

 
Chris Drewett, a teenage transsexual, is caught dressing in his sister’s clothes by his mother. Faced with a problem she can’t deal with, she turns to her sister-in law, a doctor who practices nearby, and she starts Chris on an amazing and very surprising journey.

A gentle tale of teenage angst and discovery, and of relationships and conflicts. Where sexual awakenings cause confusion and tears as well as joy and lasting friendships.

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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: Why Me?  © 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
 
 
I sat outside the door, one of seven people invited for interview. It was a warm August morning, and I’d declined a trip to Florida for this.

I was sixteen now, having finished my O levels and obtained the results a couple of days ago. I was here at the Grafton College of Dramatic Arts. I had been sold on drama since that play, so was determined to eventually get involved in the theatre or film world. But the Grafton College was well known as a sixth form college which specialised in subjects related to Drama, music and other performing arts. Grafton had links with other Drama Schools, and a lot of really well known actors and actresses had come here.

I had attained ten O levels at grade two or above, so had been accepted for interview. They only took twenty in each sixth form, but was so popular that there were about fifty applicants after each place.

The wood panelled hall in which we sat was bleak, echoing with every sound or movement. I gently rested my head back and closed my eyes, trying to relax.

I thought back over the last four years, and they had been certainly an action packed time for me.

My last two terms at Fromley went too quickly, but they enabled me to have a little breathing space to catch my breath. Douglas and I were almost inseparable, and even poor Bruce realised he had been sidelined. I had been careful to retain my special friendship with him, so we spent a lot of time together in the holidays because we lived close to each other.

When the time came to leave, I was more than ready. I managed to beat all the school swimming records, so was thrilled to pick up several cups and prizes at my final speech day.

Douglas was into his selected Public School, Merchant Taylors at Rickmansworth, in Hertfordshire. My parents found a small private girls’ secondary school near Guildford, in which I found myself in an all girl environment for the first time. It was weekly boarding, so I was home by six in the evening every Friday.

It was twinned with a nearby boys’ school, with which we’d get together for drama and several other activities. In my second year, the schools merged into one, so we all moved to the boys’ campus. I actually enjoyed a year of no boys, and made some really good friends amongst the girls. I also liked boys around me, I was never quite the same after being one of a few amongst so many, but it was cool.

Douglas wrote to me at least once a week, so I dutifully wrote back. He called every Friday evening at seven, and even though we were apart, I still felt we had something special going.

I had grown up a lot since leaving Fromley. I found when I first arrived at the senior school, I was more advanced and mature than most of the girls in my year. By the time I had reached the end of the O level year I was ready to move on. I did not fancy staying on to do run-of-the-mill academic A levels, mike History and English, as my real pleasure was in Drama.

Hence, why I was sitting in a dreary corridor waiting my turn, instead of being in the Florida sunshine.

I had been back to Florida twice since that first trip. I found I really liked the place and the people, as they had a wonderfully laid-back pace of life and a far less intense attitude towards others. Douglas and I were rather boring, as we just clicked back into where we left off. Linda seemed to like having me along, and as I grew older and filled out, we would spend more and more time in each other’s company, not so much as mother and daughter, but almost as friends.

At the end of the last trip, I was able to talk to her as a friend, as she didn’t have the responsibility of being my mother to hold back on her answers. I valued her advice; that is not to say I agreed with everything she said, which I didn’t. However, she was able to give me useful pointers about aspects of life of which my own mother was not as aware.

Our last trip had been by far the best.

Douglas was even taller and very broad, and was incredibly good looking. As we spent so much time apart, we became independently minded, so it was always fun catching up with each other’s life.

I was five seven now, while he was a good six two. My figure was trim, and my bust was 36C. I was able to wear super clothes, and as it was 1974, short skirts and hot pants were the rage. I wasn’t into floppy, hippy clothes, as I had missed that sort of age.

We had spent three weeks in the summer in Florida, and I think we spent most of it in the sea or the pool. I had had a long lecture from my mother about contraception before embarking, and I had simply smiled at her.

“Mummy, I don’t want to start the pill yet. I have no intention of having sex until I am a lot older, when I’m able to deal with it properly. But if anything does happen, I promise that we will take precautions.”

I think she had been a bit surprised, but pleased also.

As soon as we arrived in Florida, Linda took the first opportunity to talk to me when the boys went off golfing.

She more or less said what my mother had done, even offering to take me to a local doctor.

“Linda, I appreciate your concern, but neither of us are ready for sex yet. It is not that we wouldn’t like to, we would, and I think we’d enjoy it. But there is always a price to pay for things like that, and neither of us are ready to pay yet.”

I know my answer stunned her slightly, so I simply smiled and went out and lay in the sun.

What none of them knew was that Douglas and I had discovered oral sex. And as much as we wanted full sex, we actually didn’t really want to take that step yet. We learned how to please each other in so many different ways, that we kept full sex back as something to look forward to.

I had learned what he had tasted like when I was fourteen. Actually, I had so nearly been sick, that I learned three vital lessons.

One, hold his dick by the shaft, so he couldn’t stuff it down my throat.

Two, lie on him, to stop him arching his back and stuffing his dick further down my throat.

Three, get him to warn me when he was about to come, so I could get ready!

Actually, after the first near disaster we realised the need for communication. We learned to tell each other what we liked and what we didn’t like, as well as what gave us pleasure and what didn’t. This saved an awful lot of time wasting and frayed tempers.

I didn’t really like his entire penis down my throat, so he learned to restrain his thrusts some. He told me that he didn’t like it when I clamped my legs against his head, as he nearly suffocated.

Once we cleared up these little misunderstandings, we had a super time.

“Christina Drewett?”

I was up.

I walked in to the room. It was a long room, oak panelled and with a highly polished wooden floor. There was very little furniture, just some rather dreary portraits on the walls. Three women and a man sat in high backed chairs behind a long table. One single chair was positioned a little way from the table. It all looked very daunting.

I stood, smiling gently.

The lady in the middle smiled back at me. She was in her fifties, and I thought she looked very elegant. She was dressed in grey, yet she seemed to have a remarkable presence.

“Good morning, Christina. I am Geraldine Faulkner, the principal, and these are my directors of music, drama and academic studies. Please sit down.”

I sat, and so started the most rigorous interview I have ever experienced, before or since.

I had to read a short speech of Portia’s from Shakespeare’s A Merchant of Venice. It started with, ‘The quality of mercy is not strained….’. Then I had to read a part from a Pinter play, with the Male drama director reading the male part. I had to narrate a piece from a contemporary opera, and then sing a short selection of different styles of music.

Then I was asked to mime certain emotions, such as fear, anger, anguish, delight and embarrassment, using not only facial expression, but also body language.

They asked me about my studies. I noticed they had a record of my O Level grades. I knew if I hadn’t attained the grades I had, I wouldn’t have been here in the first place.

They asked me about my family life, only briefly touching on my medical history.

I had agreed with my parents that nothing was to be hidden, and I was completely honest about my gender confusion. The doctor’s letter said it all, and as a result they hardly asked me about it. The lady who was the director of academic studies asked one question.

“I appreciate that your particular problem was very difficult for you, but on reflection, how do you see yourself now?” she asked.

I smiled, but thought carefully.

“I consider myself fortunate to have had a loving and supportive family, supportive friends, and a super school. I see myself as a much stronger person, aware of my strengths and weaknesses, and filled with determination to succeed, regardless of how daunting the challenge may seem. I was in an impossible situation, yet, with help, I managed to overcome it. I learned that alone one suffers, but with support and help, anything is possible,” I said.

“We have young people from all walks of life sitting where you are now. Some seek fame and fortune, while many others don’t yet know what they seek. What is your ambition?” asked the director of drama.

“I want to simply be the best person I can be, and to make a difference,” I said with a smile.

After about an hour, Mrs Faulkner smiled at me again.

“Thank you, Christina, I think we have exhausted our quota of questions. You will be told whether you’ve been successful before you go home after the tour of the college. Is there anything you’d like to ask us, before you go?”

“Not really. I’d just like to thank you for this opportunity. I appreciate that places here are well contested, and that if I’m not accepted, I do understand. Thank you.” I stood up and left the room.

Once I closed the door, I had to sit down. I let out a heavy breath. There was a girl sitting waiting to go in.

“Was it bad?”

“Not bad, just really intense,” I said.

“I’m Katy.”

“Christina.”

“Will we find out today?”

“Before we go home.”

“I’m so nervous. How many are there?”

“Four.”

“Shit!”

“You’ll be fine, just relax, take a deep breath, and pretend you are in a play,” I said.

She smiled a little shakily.

“Thanks.”

“Katy Howard?” said the lady with the list.

She stood up.

“Good luck!” I said, and she just looked at me.

I was taken to the dining room where I met the other prospective candidates. There must have been twenty girls and seven boys already there. Some seemed far more glamorous and confident than I was. One girl, a stunningly attractive red-head, had a very posh voice and exaggerated mannerisms. She spoke very loudly and was regaling whoever was listening about her last performance at Cheltenham Ladies College. Suddenly, my own confidence drained and I felt very small and insignificant.

I collected my tea and Digestive biscuit and sat by myself at one of the long tables.

“Hello, are you okay?”

I looked up. It was one of the boys. He looked older than sixteen, as he was tall and quite thin. He had dark brown hair that was long, curling over his ears and collar. He was wearing John Lennon style spectacles, which looked strange with his dark blue suit and tie.

“Yeah, fine. I never realised just how tough this was going to be.”

He sat next to me, putting his cup and saucer down on the table.

“I’m Mike, Mike Ritchie.”

“Chris Drewett. That’s short for Christina.”

“Hi, Chris,” he said. I sensed he was quite shy too.

“What do you reckon on your chances?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Not bad. They want at least ten boys, and there have only been fifteen applicants. You girls seem to be more competitive for the places.”

“That must be good for the boys, with all these girls to play around with,” I said.

He blushed and so I wondered why he was embarrassed. Then it hit me. He was gay! It was my turn to be embarrassed.

“I mean, some nice boys too, shit, I’m not sure what I mean,” I muttered, lamely. Making it obvious that I had guessed.

He had the grace to laugh, although still quite embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t something I get hung up about. I’m surprised you caught on so quickly. Very few people know.”

“Really? Haven’t you told your parents?”

“My mother guessed a few months ago. But my dad is a different story.” He looked around, slightly furtively. “Look, you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Why should I? No, of course I won’t, but I feel you should just be honest with everyone, and then you won’t be quite so guilty.”

“You don’t know what it’s like!”

“Don’t I? Well, for your information, I thought I was a boy up until a couple of years ago!”

His eyebrows shot up, getting lost in his fringe somewhere. I told him my story.

“My God, how wonderful!” he said, with his eyes shining. “You had the same boyfriend all the way through?”

“Yeah, how about you?”

“I’ve only had one boyfriend, but that was so secretive, it drove me mad.”

“When did you realise?” I asked.

He looked around again, just in case someone was listening.

“I was about twelve, I suppose, although, as I was at a school like yours, a prep school with no girls, I didn’t connect that I might prefer boys. There weren’t any girls, so I never thought about it. It was when I went to public school that I really found out what I was.”

“That’s tough. But surely, here, they’d understand? After all, a lot of gay people go into show business”

“I don’t want to take the risk. Once I get in, then I’m not too bothered who knows, but I’m not making a thing about it.”

The last few applicants returned from their interviews, so we set off on the tour of the college. I stayed with Mike, as I felt we were kindred spirits, of sorts. He seemed to want to stick close to me, and Katy also found me and we walked around together.

It was a college, so it had all the necessary facilities that I expected. It was fancier than school, but not a lot more so. At the end, we all assembled in the theatre. Now this building impressed me. It was a replica of an old theatre, with around a thousand red seats and balconies and boxes. I breathed in the atmosphere and suddenly really wanted that place.

We were all sitting in the front few rows when Mrs Faulkner made her way onto the stage and a hush settled upon us.

“Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you’ve enjoyed the tour of the college, we are proud of our facilities, and this theatre is the piece de resistance. We have deliberated about all who have been interviewed and have made decisions as to who will be returning in September to start their two years with us.

“I order to facilitate this process, we are leaving five places unfilled for any who don’t make it on the first round of interviews, to appeal for a place. The quality of applicant has been very high this year, so we would like to ensure every opportunity is offered to those who have not been selected this time around. If I read your name out, then I’m sad to say, you have not been successful, and I would ask you to leave the theatre, collect whatever belongings you have and meet up with your parents or friends who should be waiting for you at the front of the college. If you feel that you’d like to try for one of the five extra places, then please collect an appeal form from Mrs Frobisher by the door on your way out, and we will be in touch. Thanks for taking part, and I wish you well in your search for an alternative college.”

She then read out the list.

The first shock was the redhead wasn’t selected. Her name was Miranda Salter and she looked completely devastated when her name was read out.

I glanced at Mike, he was very pale, and he looked back at me very nervously as the names kept coming.

“…and finally, Jessica Robinson. That concludes the selection, so many congratulations to all those left sitting here, we look forward to seeing you all again in September. There is a pack for you to collect in the college office before you leave.” She then walked off the stage, her heels making an exaggerated sound on the bare boards.

“Shit, I made it!” I said, turning and seeing who else had. I was pleased to see Katy, who grinned at me, waving furiously.

“Oh my God, I’m in!” Mike said, as the reality hit him.

I stood up and left the theatre. Mum was waiting for me by the college office. I saw her pale and worried looking face peering at everyone as they passed. Many of the girls were in tears, particularly Miranda, who was almost in hysterics. Her mother was equally distraught, despite being enveloped in a huge fur coat.

Mummy saw me and I saw her frown. I grinned and gave her the thumbs up and her expression altered as a huge smile spread across her face.

I was so excited, as I told her about the interview and everything that happened. We were just leaving when I was tapped on the shoulder. It was Mike.

“Oh, hi Mike, well done!”

“Well done yourself. So, I’ll see you in September?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.”

He seemed to want to talk some more so I waited, as Mum unlocked the car.

“Um, I was wondering, where do you live?” he asked.

“Near Guildford, why?”

“I live in Woking, is there a chance we could meet, sometime?”

“Yeah, if you like,” I said, glancing around to check. “Are you sure you want to meet up with a girl?” I asked, pseudo-secretively.

He laughed and cuffed me on the shoulder gently.

“No, it’d do my image good. Besides, I know you have a boyfriend, so I’m safe with you.”

“You never know, I may be a nympho.”

He smiled. “Seriously, I’d like to meet up with you. I don’t actually have that many friends.”

I felt quite sorry for him, besides, I was desperately curious about some things. I may have had my own problems, but I was still very naíve about many aspects of life.

“Okay, give me your number and I’ll give you a ring.”

We exchanged numbers and went on our separate ways.

“That boy seemed keen on you,” my mother said, as we drove home.

“No, he wasn’t, mum, he doesn’t like girls, but he’s nice.”

Her expression was priceless. “He’s too young to know that!” she said.

“Like I was too young to know I wasn’t a boy?”

“That’s different!”

“No it isn’t. He’s as sure he can be, at the moment. He can’t tell his parents, so imagine what he must feel like!”

She went quiet. I didn’t rub it in, but knew I’d scored a point. I wished that people could be more open and understanding. My mother of all people, who’d been simply wonderful with me, wasn’t really able to comprehend the complexities of human sexual and gender conditions.

I changed the subject and the matter was forgotten.

Life returned to normal. I wanted to call Doug and tell him the good news, but he was in America. We were still ‘kissing friends’ but I for one was beginning to feel restricted by our relationship. It wasn’t that there was anyone else, I just wanted to see what life had to offer without being tied to one person.

I was surprised when Mike called that very evening. I found myself agreeing to meet him in Guildford for a Chinese lunch and a movie the next day.

We met at the Kowloon House and had the 50p special lunch. Our conversation immediately took off from where we finished yesterday. He seemed to need to share his story, as if he’d never told anyone before.

“So, what happened at your public school?” I asked.

“Again, there were no girls, so in the plays, boys would play the girls’ parts, just like you. I was a treble in the choir, so when we put a musical on at Christmas, I was given the female lead opposite a big lad called Ronnie Hutchison.

“Ronnie was seventeen and in the first XV. He was a man, broad with a deep baritone voice. We rehearsed for a couple of months, and one day he asked me if I’d like to meet him in his study to rehearse.

“I mean, I was just fourteen and he was a sixth former. This was a real privilege, but I was so innocent, I didn’t think anything of it. Anyway, I went and he’d give me hot chocolate and some nice cake. He never touched me, but asked if I’d wear one of the costumes to rehearse. The musical was a 1950s American piece, Guys and Dolls, so I had a red dress that he seemed to like. He said it was too risky to do this in his study, so I agreed to meet him in the Air Cadet hut after lights out.

“I went a bit early, taking the dress, a wig, shoes and some make up. So when he arrived, I was already dressed. He didn’t say anything for a while, so I thought he was upset.” Mike paused.

“I’d never realised how powerful sex is,” he said, twirling some noodles round his fork.

“You had sex?” I asked, slightly shocked, but trying not to show it.

“I didn’t know anything about gay sex. In fact, I knew nothing about sex, period. Only what other boys had told me, or what I’d read. It was funny, but I seemed to instinctively know what he wanted and how to please him. He was so afraid of hurting me, he was very sweet, really.”

This was bugging me.

“You had sex?” I repeated, dying to know the details.

“Not really, he rubbed himself against my bare bottom and came against me. It was rather nice, but it left me, how can I put it - unfulfilled?”

“So what happened?”

“He wanked me off.”

“Was that it?” I asked, slightly disappointed.

“For then. We almost got caught by one of the teachers, so we never met there again. I never fully dressed up for him again either, as it was too risky. He would buy me girl’s underwear, so I’d wear it for him in his study. He seemed to know that what we were doing was wrong, whereas I hadn’t a clue. I just know I adored the attention and he treated me so well.”

“How long did this go on for?”

“A year. He left after A levels. I haven’t had anyone since. I’ve now learned that he could have gone to prison for what he did to me.”

“What did he do?” I asked, hopefully.

“We had sex about twelve times, in his study. I occasionally used to sleep with him, but it got too risky, so things cooled off. I think someone knew and was telling tales behind our backs, for I was called into the headmaster and given a stern lecture about sexual deviance. Ronnie left school a bit early, after taking his exams. They said it was because of a death in the family, but I think they knew we were lovers.”

“That’s awful. Wasn’t there anyone you could talk to?”

He looked at me, his big, sad eyes almost in tears.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

I felt humbled. “Shit, really?”

He nodded.

“Wow, that’s awful too. Do you know what happened to him?”

“No. I tried to find out, but failed. I decided to move on.”

“Are you sure you’re gay, and not just bi or confused?” I asked.

“Were you sure you weren’t a boy?”

I nodded, feeling sheepish. “Point taken. So, wouldn’t you like to be a girl?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. After hearing about what happened to you, I thought about it a lot last night. I’ve never wanted to be a girl, and I think I still don’t. I just like boys and that’s it. I don’t identify myself as a girl or anything. I don’t dress up or want to look effeminate.”

Nodding, I finished my sweet and sour pork with rice.

“Then at least we can be friends,” I said, with a smile. “Only if you promise not to steal my boyfriends.”

He smiled as we shook hands across the table. “Deal!” he said. “But, can I have first dibbs on them when you’re finished with them?”

As we drank our coffees, I looked at Mike closely. He was taller than I was by a couple of inches, but he was very slender. He wasn’t especially effeminate, but his hair did make him look less macho, but then, it was fashionable.

He was fine featured, so I wondered what he’d look like as a girl. He caught me looking at him in a funny way.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“No, go on, you were looking at me strangely, why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was being silly.”

“Please?”

“I was wondering what you’d look like if you did dress as a girl. I reckon you’d be very pretty.”

He smiled. “Tough, I’m not doing it.”

“Okay. I never suggested it. As I said, I just wondered, that’s all.”

I drank my coffee and he stared into his cup.

“I often used to pray to be like everyone else, and not to be gay. I felt sort of let down and forgotten, as if God doesn’t care,” he said.

“I don’t know about that. I think that we, that’s people, we are sort of less than perfect, and we somehow enjoy our imperfect side. I don’t know much about being gay, straight or transsexual, but I know what I felt like, I was supposed to be a boy, yet I felt as if I was a girl. It wasn’t as if I did it deliberately. It’s just the way I was. I suppose it’s the same for you?”

He nodded. “I used to wonder why. Whether it was because my dad wasn’t around, or my mum made me feel special. Then I thought it must have been genetic, but in the end, I’m still no wiser. I just feel gay, I like men, so the thought of a man making love to me turns me on.”

“Me too,” I said, grinning.

We had a super afternoon. We saw the latest James Bond movie. I thought Sean Connery is very sexy, so did Mike. It was weird, as it was like going around with another girl!

I caught the bus home after asking Mike over for the day on the following Saturday. It was very quiet in our house, as both Shelly and Rob were away, and I knew Dad would be playing golf, so some company would be fun.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 4
 
 
To Be Continued...