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Nifty - Transgender - Teen - Brothers In Panties

Date: Wed, 23 Jul 2008 06:03:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: Fred Gingerman <>
Subject: Brothers in Panties -- transgender

Brothers in Panties
By Gingerfred Man

Chapter One -- Boyhood

I loved being a boy. My name is Tim Morgan and not only did I enjoy being a
boy, I was good at it. Even as a little guy, I loved trucks and airplanes
and snakes and guns and dirt. Lots of dirt. I was always hygienically
challenged until I turned thirteen and began to notice that girls didn't
like dirtbags.

What girls thought of me meant a lot when I was thirteen. I began to feel
those strange stirrings in my gut whenever I saw a pretty girl. It was a
good thing I had the greatest big brother in the world to explain what it
all meant.

Francis Morgan was not only my big, two-years-older brother, he was my best
friend. There was almost no sibling rivalry between us. We formed a bond in
our early years and always cared more about each other's approval more than
we did the approval of our Mom and Dad.

Dad didn't pay any attention to us anyway. He and Mom were always at each
other about things. Mostly about Dad's philandering. He almost never had a
job and was almost never around, except when he needed money to take out
his floozies. Mom had inherited a great deal of money, so Dad thought he
would never starve. Mom often accused him of being a leech and only
marrying her for her money.

The truth was, Mom probably had guys lined up around the block to marry
her. Not only was she rich, but also she was, even at 38, gorgeous, with a
stunning face and a great figure. Why she picked a difficult man like Dad
is anyone's guess. Mom was sweet too, when she wasn't being provoked. Even
the sweet girls, it seems, are attracted to the bad boys. One of the
mysteries of life.

Anyway, Francis and I laid low when Mom and Dad fought and they were never
abusive to us. They spent all their abuse on each other.

I didn't have a Dad to tell me the facts of life, but I had Francis. At
fifteen, he was a bit of a ladies man himself and he was not stingy with
what he learned in the War Between the Sexes. Francis always shared with me
-- materially and spiritually.

I was ready to apply some of this imparted knowledge about s-e-x with a
lucky girl, but the opportunity never presented itself until Super Bowl
Sunday when I was in 8th grade.

The four of us, Mom, Dad, Francis and I, were invited to a Super Bowl party
at the home of the O'Malleys, Mr. And Mrs. 14-year-old Mary Elizabeth and
12-year-old Mary Catherine.

I didn't know the girls as well as I wanted. They were cuties! Mary
Catherine was a year behind me in school and we said hi now and then. But
Mom and Mrs. O'Malley had been best friends in college and often went to
movies and things together.

I loved football and was pretty wrapped up in the game, pork rinds and
cheese doodles. Still, I couldn't help but notice Mary Catherine.

Only twelve, Mary Catherine seemed intent on proving that Catholic girls
did not start much too late. She was wearing a very short skirt and sheer
black stockings. Her black pumps were only two-inches high, but they were
stilettos and very sexy. And they made her cute little butt stick out very
nicely. She had an angelic face, graced by appropriate make-up, and her
budding boobs made her chest protrude perfectly. She was paying a lot more
attention to me than she was the game, as was her sister with Francis.

In the fourth quarter of a close game, the grown-ups seemed very intent on
the action. Mary Catherine leaned over to me and whispered a lovely
invitation for a different kind of action. I accepted, noticing that Mary
Elizabeth and Francis had already toddled out.

We slipped off to an upstairs bathroom and locked the door. My life's first
kiss was on Mary Catherine's soft, red, Irish lips. I loved it! I sat down
on the toilet and she sat on my lap, rubbing her cute tushie against my
hardening cock. Francis had told me about the uncharted land that lay
beyond kissing and I was hoping to visit it soon.

Mary Catherine had limited time and a big agenda. She pulled her blouse
over her head and unhooked her bra for me! Leapin' Lizards! She had
delicious little tomato-sized titties, all new and plump and mostly
nipple. I kissed them, just as Francis had instructed if the opportunity
arose. Mary Catherine squirmed, wiggling as if she wanted to get away. But
she didn't.

Suddenly, Mary Catherine stood and pulled up her skirt. She began to remove
her panties!!!! I was near heart failure, but when she presented her soaked
little muffie at my mouth, I remembered Francis' sage advice. Lick it. Look
for the little girl sticking out, then lick her. I held onto Mary
Catherine's perfect ass cheeks and licked her pussy lips. She shivered with
delight. I was very proud of myself and horribly excited. I licked some
more. After about five minutes of intense writhing and muffled squealing,
Mary Catherine's little clitty began to peek out. I recognized the
phenomenon and gave it a tentative lick. She gasped and shook. Holding her
firmly, I took its three-quarter-inch-long glory into my mouth and gave it
a thorough licking and sucking. She screamed! And came in convulsive
thrusts. I was terrified, thinking that a) I had harmed her and b) that we
were heard and I would be caught with a faceful of pussy juice. As good
fortune would
have it, Mary Catherine's wrenching orgasm occurred simultaneously with an
80-yard touchdown play, making it just one more scream.

I believed I had made a friend for life. Mary Catherine was enraptured with
my pussy-eating technique and success. She kissed me lustily and wetly,
then slipped to her knees to repay me in kind. Getting the picture, I
frantically wiggled out of my pants and briefs, exposing my very fine
cock. I was young, but my cock was a full-sized seven inches, uncut, red
and dripping boyish goo.

Mary Catherine gasped with delight, locked eyes with me, giggled, then
licked my privates from balls to peehole. It was fantastic! My balls and
cock were on fire. This was my first blowjob, in fact my first
cock-touching, and I had no basis for comparison. But now I know that Mary
Catherine O'Malley gave me a world-class blowjob that day. At that moment,
I saw a lifetime of hot, incredible, boy-girl sex ahead of me and I was
very excited by the prospect. My prediction was accurate, but the way it
unfolded was different than I imagined.

As I became more and more distressed, nearing my first-ever orgasm, Mary
Catherine smiled and told me how handsome I was. She told me I was a great
pussy-licker and we were going to have intense fun whenever I wanted. Then
she applied herself to my bliss. My balls rumbled.

"Something's happening to me, Mary Catherine!" I innocently said.

Mary Catherine giggled and inserted a finger in my asshole as she licked me
to frenzy. Glory! The finger wiggled in my tight hole and that was
that. Blewy!!!! I quivered, then wrenched with the intensity of an
explosion that began in my gut and spread to my hair and toenails. I fired
globs of goo into Mary Catherine's sweet mouth. She swallowed them

The idea began to form in my mind that I was not Mary Catherine's first.

No matter. I was, of course, in love. A trickle of my boy's cream drooled
along Mary Catherine's chin. She kissed me, transferring it to my chin. She
stood, pulled up her panties and fixed her make-up as I pulled myself
together. She smiled again, kissed me, then left to rejoin the party. I
left a minute later for propriety.

The scene I walked in on changed my life more than what had just happened
in the bathroom. Mom was in a murderous mood. While we four kids had been
otherwise occupied (Francis, it turns out, had been similarly lucky with
Mary Elizabeth), it had been revealed that Dad had been having an affair
with Mrs. O'Malley!

Mr. O'Malley asked us all to leave. Mom asked Dad to take up residence in
Hell, a sentiment that she extended to her former best friend as well.

It was a cold night and we left Dad to his own two feet, Mom, Francis and I
driving home without him. On the way home, we stopped at a gun shop, where
Mom tried to convince the owner how silly the three-day waiting period
was. She was angry right then, she told him, and probably wouldn't want to
buy a gun three days later. It was un-American -- a conspiracy in restraint
of trade.

But we returned home unarmed. I was wondering how Dad would ever get in the
house to get his stuff. I sure wouldn't have risked seeing Mom again. Then
the point became moot. Asking us to help, Mom put all Dad's stuff in the
backyard, added some of those fake fire logs, and lit a bonfire. Remind me
not to piss Mom off.

Then Mom brought Francis and me inside and hugged us, crying and telling us
that she loved us very much and that no matter what happened, she would
always love us and take care of us.

That was very reassuring that Sunday night and quite honestly, Francis and
I knew we would never really miss our Dad very much. He pretty much ignored
us or was surly with us. We were totally in love with our Mom, who had
always been great to us -- loving and appropriately strict.

Francis and I went to bed that night in the room we had always
shared. Despite all this life-altering turmoil, my mind was still very
occupied with Mary Catherine O'Malley's warm, gooey parts. I gave Francis
chapter and verse on what had happened and how it had made me feel.

"You may have to set that aside for a while, Timmy," Francis said. He was
the only one who called me Timmy. "I think big things will be happening in
our lives very soon."

Francis turned out to be very right. But that first week, I spent most of
my time trying to be alone with Mary Catherine. I was completely
unsuccessful. Mom looked at her as the spawn of the she-devil, her former
best friend, and we wouldn't be going near her lair for any slap and tickle
in the foreseeable millennia.

Rats. Just when my boyish sexuality had taken a quantum leap, I was cast
back among the virgins.

The really strange part of that week was that each day when we came home,
Mom would hug us and cry and tell us everything would be all right and that
she would protect us.

The oddest thing she said was that she had a sure-fire plan so that we
wouldn't grow up just like our father.

What did that mean?

Francis and I got the idea that Mom had been very busy during the day when
we were at school.

On Thursday, Mom took us out of school and to a doctor on the other side of
town. It was time for our physicals, she said. I thought we had taken care
of that earlier that school year, but Mom's word was law.

The doctor was a nice young man, around 40 and very solicitous of Mom. Mom
sat in with us as the doctor had us strip naked. He examined us very
carefully, taking blood and urine samples. Then he told us he needed a
semen sample. Francis and I blushed and looked at each other.

The doctor said not to worry, as he would gather his sample through a
sexual response test. He called me over to him and had me stand. He
inserted his gloved, lubed finger into my tight anus, just as Mary
Catherine had that Sunday. Then he wiggled it and moved it back and
forth. Mom smiled nicely and Francis' cock was red and angry. How
embarrassing for him!

Still, the doctor's finger felt awfully nice and when he used his thumb and
two fingers from his other hand to expertly wank my cock, I was near the
brink in no time. The doctor told me to imagine that prettiest girl I knew
was doing the "test." I had Mary Catherine squarely in my mind when my cock
began to twitch and my ass spasmed. It was so humiliating to have this
happen in front of my Mom and Francis. She was calm, almost amused. Francis
was very excited and was leaking boygoo all over his cockhead.

Trembling with embarrassment and sexual arousal, I came hard into the
doctor's hand. He spoke softly and reassuringly to me as he milked my balls
completely dry, then scraped his sample into a jar.

Knowing he was close, Francis stepped up for his "test." The doctor had
barely inserted his finger in Francis' tight anus and gripped Francis'
doodle, when Francis began to spurt his cream. Watching me cum had excited
Francis tremendously. He even smiled at the doctor as he was being
fondled. And he didn't seem put off by being handled by a man. Well, the
man was a doctor.

Francis' sample having been gathered, he and I dressed and went to the
waiting room. Mom said she was to be examined next. She was in there a long
time, maybe an hour, and when she came out of the examining room, her
make-up was messed, she was walking funny and she was clutching what
appeared to be a ream of completed prescriptions. How odd!

On the way to a late arrival at school, we stopped at seven different
drugstores to pick up prescriptions. Big ones.

The next day, Friday, we arrived just in time to see Mrs. Webster leaving
our house. Mrs. Webster was in charge of records for the schools in our
town. Mom was holding several large envelopes. There was a funny smell in
the house, especially by Mom's bedroom and we found it odd that Mom was
wearing lingerie at 3:30 in the afternoon. But they were odd times.

The next morning, Mom woke us around eight and told us we were going to
spend a weekend at our cabin up north. We loved going there, but usually
didn't go in February. The van was stuffed with suitcases and things, much
more than a weekend's worth. But we were kids and didn't question most

It was a four-hour drive and Mom was in a very good mood. When we got there
around one, we were surprised to see that the real estate agent who managed
our cabin had filled the refrigerator and had a winter's worth of wood in
place for us. A bit of overkill, Francis and I thought.

Mom fixed us a delicious lunch, then sat us down to talk to us.

"Francis and Tim, you are the most precious people in my life. I love you
both to distraction."

Francis and I glowed. We loved our Mom too and told her so.

"Thank you, my Darlings. That's why I must be sure that you will never grow
up to be like your father. You carry his evil genes within you. I must
suppress them. Sweethearts," Mom said, "I'm going to raise you as girls."

We must have heard her wrong. We looked at each other. Then Francis said,
"But, Mom, we're boys."

"Only half, Francis. All boys are half girls. You have a woman's X
chromosome and a man's Y. I want to save you from the Y your father gave

That was it. We were convinced Mom was crazy. She had never been crazy. Dad
must have made her crazy.

I said, "But, Mom. That's impossible. We look like boys. We are
boys. Everyone knows us as boys. All our school records say we're boys."

Mom addressed each point. "Listen, sweet darlings. In the very near future,
you will no longer look like boys. You will be wearing girlish things. You
will have girlish mannerisms. Your bodies, except for your privates, will
be girl's bodies, including breasts. We will be staying here until your
bodies adjust and I can train you to be girls. In June or July, we will
move to Fromage, Wisconsin, a lovely town 100 miles east of our town. You
will be enrolled in the high school as Vanessa Morgan, junior, and Neena
Morgan, freshman. You will be blissfully happy and safe from the fate of
being like your father. Now come over here and let me give you your first
injections of female hormones."

We were dumbfounded and terror-stricken, but did as we were told.

What choice did we have? If we called child welfare, we would end up in
some foster home with 12 other kids, all with huge problems. Or in some
orphanage holding our bowls and saying, "Please sir, may I have more?" That
was a twist we didn't want.

Plus we had already lost our father. We didn't want to lose a Mom we loved.

Chapter Two -- The Pact

That first afternoon, Mom had us strip naked. She took our boy clothes
outside, including our shoes, and poured gasoline on them. Then she threw a
match on them. As they burned and Mom watched the fire outside, Francis
and I stood naked in the living room and considered our fate.

I began to cry.

Francis said, "Don't cry, Timmy. It'll be all right."

We hugged. It felt strange do so while in the buff, but I was comforted

Francis said, "Listen, Timmy. Remember what Braveheart said to his troops?"
Francis knew it was one of my favorite movies. "He said, `They may take our
lives, but they can't take our honor.' Mom may make us look like girls and
act like girls, but we won't be girls. And when we're 18, that's two years
and three months for me, four and four for you, we can do whatever we
want. We can stop taking the hormones and we'll become boys again."

I sniffled. "But Francis, why do we have to act like girls?"

"Because if anyone suspects we're boys dressing as girls, we'll be beaten
up two or three times a day. And continuously humiliated. If we learn how
to be girls and act like girls, we'll get through this. Hey, Timmy. Maybe
when I turn 18, I'll get a court order and have you live with me. We can
both be boys a lot faster."

That raised my spirits a millimeter. Francis was right. We couldn't be half
girls. We would have to pretend to be girls all the
way. Except... "Francis, we wouldn't have to date boys, would we?" My
stomach turned at the thought,

Francis smiled. "Of course not, silly. We'll still be boys in our hearts
and to each other. And boys don't date boys. So do we have a pact? We
pretend to be girls, but stay true to being boys where it matters. And we
become boys again as soon as possible."

I smiled and shook Francis' hand. "It's a pact!"

Just then, Mom came in from outside and things moved very quickly.

Mom said, "I have your room set up for you my darlings. Go look."

We did. It was the room we usually occupied. A large, rustic room with twin
beds arranged so that the occupants faced each other across the room. But
Mom had obviously told the real estate agent to make every girlie touch
imaginable. There was lace and frills everywhere. Two large armoires
supplemented the two large closets. Mom began to unpack the six suitcases
of things that we now realized were for us.

Afraid of what lay ahead and still naked, we were sort of relieved when Mom
announced that she had located our outfits for the rest of that day.

Then she surprised us yet again, by saying that we needed a bath and shave
before we dressed.

"But, I don't shave, Mom," I said. "And Francis only shaves about once a

Mom smiled. "Your sister's name is Vanessa, Neena, dear."

I looked at Francis. He nodded at me to play along.

Mom added. "And you'll be shaving your legs and armpits and those unruly
patches of hair above your clitties."

Clitties? Oh.

Mom drew a bath in the large tub, then put us both in. "Girls can bathe
together, ladies," she said.

We washed ourselves very thoroughly. I couldn't help but rub against
Francis once or twice. For some reason, the process had given me a large
woodie. I looked over at Francis. He was likewise aroused. I blushed in

Mom dried us off with big, fluffy towels, then showed us how to shave our
legs and armpits. I paid attention, since I didn't want Mom doing the
shaving after the first time. Mom had us bend over and she shaved the hairs
right off the area between our buttcheeks. It was humiliating, but I got
even stiffer. I was praying that I wouldn't cum.

My legs felt so smooth. And my buttcheeks felt like silk. It almost felt
good. Then Mom began to shave my pubic area, with the intent of leaving
only a small patch above my "clitty." In her efforts, she touched my cock
several times and that was the trigger I had tried desperately to avoid. I
moaned, grunted and began to spasm out thick globs of cum. Some went into
Mom's hand. Most hit the bathroom floor. I was humiliated forever. I had
cum in front of my Mom. The second time in three days.

Mom acted as if it were no biggie. "I'm delighted you rid yourself of that
vile boyish toxin. I hope you'll take steps to purge yourselves several
times a day."


We were pronounced dried, shaved and ready. Mom led us back to the bedroom,
where she applied sissy-smelling powder to our pubic areas, tummies and
chests. It did feel soothing after the bath and shave. She then gave us our
first stockings and showed us how to roll them on. Mine were tan. Francis'
were black. We began to roll them slowly up our legs.

Uuuuhhhhhh. That was very nice. Despite his recent eruption, Little Timmy
was stiff and throbbing yet again. The stockings felt heavenly. If you were
a girl. Which I wasn't.

I looked over at Francis. He was apparently experiencing the same
feelings. When he got the second stocking up to his thigh, his "toxins"
escaped him.

Mom displayed a small, knowing smile. Then she cleaned the mess with a

Francis and I were then given garter belts and instructed in their use.

"No daughters of mine will wear pantyhose!" Mom declared.

Our training bras seemed silly, but Mom said they would help us get ready
for the luscious titties we would sprout in the near future. I thought of
Mary Catherine's beautiful rack and sighed.

We wore our first panties for less than five minutes. I pulled on a pair of
silky powder-blue-with-white-lace bikinis and my poor cock was unable to
cope. I filled the little teasers with a huge load of hot cum almost as
soon as I got them on. Mom smiled again, cleaned me up and offered me a red
lacy pair that I managed to put on without eruption. Although I was soon
hard again.

Francis' black lace panties were gooed in milliseconds. He came so hard, I
thought he would fall over.

Why were we so excited over our articles of imprisonment?

We finally managed to get our slips on, followed by short, tight skirts and
plain white blouses, which buttoned "backwards." So much to learn.

Mom then produced our first heels. They were only two inches high and had a
clunky heel, but walking in them took some practice.

"You'll be in four-inch stilettos in no time. And walking like girls."

I could see that Francis had no clue about how to act like a girl, which
made him look ridiculous in what was a very sexy outfit. Still, there was
some femininity in Francis already and I found it was making me curious
about where this was all leading.

At that moment, it led to the make-up table, where Mom was instructing us
in the use of foundation, blush, mascara, eyeliner, eyeshadow, lipstick and
lipgloss. Mom then did a fine job of making our boyish faces look very
feminine. Pretty, even. Very pretty.

Francis had a true, natural beauty. His big, brown eyes were like those of
the prettiest girls I had seen. But he was my brother. Not my sister. So it
wasn't real. Unfortunately, that stiffie in my panties was real.

When Mom did my face and showed me the results, I almost peed my panties. I
could hardly see Tim in there. It looked like that Neena character that Mom
was trying to turn me into. And Neena was some babe!

Except for our hair and flat chests, Francis and I looked like
mega-foxes. It was humiliating, but very exciting too. My mind said, "Icky
bad," but my libido said, "Yummy good."

Mom topped it all off by producing shoulder-length wigs for us in our
natural hair color. She put them on us. I looked at Francis. He was a ten!
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was an eleven!!! Now what?

Chapter Three -- Mom's Agenda

All I remember about the rest of that day was Mom droning on about walking
like a girl and running like a girl (arms out at sides or up in little
sissy fists). She said something about not looking at your fingernails with
them pointing at you as men do. We were supposed to admire them at arm's
length as a woman does. All I could do was sneak looks at Francis and how
hot and girlie he looked. I didn't want to have sex with him or anything. I
kept thinking that I must look as girlie as he did.

How would we ever live through the next few years? How could we live
without the carnal company of girls? What girls with high voices would want
any part of us, especially when we got boobs.

Boobs. How would I handle those? Literally. Would I be disgusted by them or
play with them at the expense of everything else in life?

I haven't mentioned yet that Francis and I had talents that took up a lot
of our time and interest. Francis was a gifted violinist and spent a lot of
time getting even better than he was. His reputation and resume when he
became Francis again would have a large gap. He certainly couldn't say he
had been a girl during that time. Maybe he could tell Julliard he had been
in prison or something more respectable. And what would he tell people at
his new school about his prior musical history? Had Mom backed that all up
too? Probably.

I had issues too. I was known as a rare math prodigy -- the best in a wide
area -- and wanted to develop that and make a career of it. How could I do
that with two changes of gender?

Mom made us a nice dinner, let us stare at some TV for an hour, then put us
to bed. She instructed us in the removal of make-up and the use of various
creams and lotions we might choose.

Francis and I undressed and slipped on our silky nighties. Mine was red and
short, coming only to the bottom of my little pink ball bag. Francis' was
blue and just a little longer. I went tinkle, sitting as Mom had decreed,
then brushed my teeth and got in bed.

I was sniffling softly when Francis came over and kissed me goodnight. He
had never done that when we were boys, but I felt warm and protected when
his warm lips brushed my forehead.

Francis got in his own bed. We looked at each other across the
room. Francis was so darned pretty.

I hadn't cum in about six hours, but the silky nightie and views of Francis
had me hard.

Francis said, "I saw you were excited, Timmy. It's OK if you want to touch
yourself. I think we'll have to do that if we want to keep our sanity."

I took my red poker in hand. It was dripping a lot of goo and very stiff.

Francis said, "It was fun last week at the O'Malley's, wasn't it, Timmy?
Mary Elizabeth took me to her bedroom and wasted no time. She kissed me,
pulled her panties down, got on her back and spread her legs."

That mental picture was working me up to a fine lather.

"Mary Elizabeth's pussy was already wet. She must have really enjoyed the
Super Bowl. But just to be sure she was ready, I started to lick her
pussy. She's very hairy down there and her pussy lubricates very quickly
when you get her going. I had her going in no time, She was squirming and
squealing and begging me to fuck her. I love when girls do that. I pulled
my pants off and mounted her. She grabbed my cock and tried to stuff it
right in, but I teased her a little. Then I kissed her, stuck my tongue in
her mouth and...uhhhhh...plunged in. Sorry, Timmy. I'm getting excited."

If Francis was excited, I was hyperventilating with my clear mental picture
of Mary Elizabeth stuffed with Francis' cock and my real-life, moonlit view
of a lovely, nightie-clad Francis with a twitching cock, telling a
relentlessly erotic tale.

Francis described how his cock felt rubbing against the gooey walls of Mary
Elizabeth's cunt. Then he couldn't hold back anymore and began to moan and
grunt. From across the room, I did the same until, BAM! We each spewed
millions of sperm into the inner folds of our pretty nighties.

The weirdness of it all did not escape me as I drifted off to a sound

Chapter Four -- Cabin Fever

Mom was not happy about missing mass the next morning, but she knew that
Francis and I were not ready for prime time just yet.

That week, she drilled us hard in femininity. Constant, loving corrections
were beginning to work on us. By the following Saturday, we were almost

Mom did not neglect our schoolwork, either. Her homeschool program was
rigorous and challenging, although I was leagues ahead of Mom and Francis
in the math.

On Saturday at noon, Mom suggested we go out for lunch. Francis and I
hadn't been out in eight days and were ready, even if it meant facing the
world as girls.

Mom dressed us in dark sweaters and plaid skirts. We wore our wigs and,
since there was considerable snow, boots with three-inch clunky heels.

We had figured out how to walk in heels by that time and didn't have much
difficulty, but the new height was challenging. In the boots, Francis was
six-feet tall and I was five-ten. We were big "girls," adding to the
attention our beauty would draw.

Mom had big, long winter coats for us, which we put on after making one
last plea to wear pants on that very cold day.

"Girls wear pants, Mom," Francis said.

"Proper ladies only wear trousers for horseback riding and skiing," Mom
said. And that was that.

We stepped outside and felt the cold creep up our skirts and grip our
thighs. Cold fear gripped us too, mostly at being spotted as sissyboys and
being ridiculed.

As it turned out, the only stares we got that day were based in lust and
came from the boys and men fortunate enough to cross our paths.

"No more beautiful trio could be found in Wisconsin," Francis said.

He was right, but still, the fact that two of the lovely trio were boys was
disturbing. Wasn't it?

We enjoyed a light lunch and the attentions of a fawning waiter who
couldn't believe his good fortune. If he had seen Francis' and my cocks he
probably would have puked. Or so I thought at the time.

Then Mom took us for a big treat, seriously. We went to the
library. Francis and I loved to read and we loaded ourselves with books. I
like murder mysteries and science fiction most. So did Francis, but he also
took a couple of teen romances. Why did he do that? Research into the mind
of a girl, I guessed and Francis confirmed that diagnosis when I asked him.

All that walking was rubbing my poor little guy against my silky panties
and getting me very excited. Sexual excitement was a constant condition for
me since I had girlied up a week ago. Strange.

I stopped in the library ladies room, sat to tinkle. Then stroked my
poker. I had been cumming six or seven times a day and my poor balls seemed
to be manufacturing at wartime production levels. Why was all this so
exciting to me?

Being out seemed so dangerous itself. What if a girl opened my stall door
by mistake and saw me, by all appearances a teenage mega-babe, stroking my
large cock. What would a paradox like that do to the poor girl? I was
imagining that she would drop to her pretty knees and take it in her
cupid's bow mouth. She would lick all the pre-cum off as it slithered from
the peehole. She would make eye contact with me, teasing me with her eyes
as she kissed the velvet mushroom slowly and deliberately. She would lick
and suck and groan with pleasure as my cock twitched and my crisis
approached. Then she would squeal with delight as hot goo leaped from the
head and doused her face with its thick creaminess. I blew a beauty with
that picture flooding my mind.

Of course, in real life, we had to consider the possibility that she would
run and get a cop saying some pervert was in the ladies room.

We even did a little shopping that day. Francis had told Mom that he didn't
have any navy blue pumps to go with several of his outfits, so we went to
the village shoe store. I ended up getting pink mules as well. No sense
walking around barefoot in one's nightie.

The shoe salesman had the time of his life. He caressed our feet as he put
them in shoes and tried very hard to look up our skirts to see our
panties. Wouldn't he have been surprised to see what was inside our

All in all, our outing hadn't been as bad as we had dreaded. So we thanked
Mom for taking us. We kissed her and gave her, we hoped, the illusion that
we were in full cooperation. Little did she know about our binding,
signed-in-blood (almost) pact to become boys again as soon as we were
18. It sure seemed a long way off.

Chapter Five -- Cabin Days and Nights

Time passed remarkably quickly. The changes were coming very rapidly for
Francis and me.

We had learned how to comport ourselves as girls in almost perfect
imitation. In our room, however, the pact was firm.

The biggest changes were physical. Mom must have been using
industrial-strength hormones, because by May, Francis had perfect B-Cup
titties, a slimmer waist, wider hips and a softer voice. I had all that
too, except I had C-Cups.

If I hadn't known better, I would have thought Francis was jealous. The
boobs were only temporary, until we were 18 by pact. But Francis almost
seemed to like his.

He spent a lot of time looking at his new body in the mirrors we had in our
room. I had to admit, it was a spectacular ersatz female body. When he
admired himself, wearing only his black stockings, garter belt and
four-inch stiletto pumps, I would often have to leave the room. Often I
would head for the bathroom, picturing Francis and punishing my little
friend until he spurted boy's cream. Francis was hot and I was so ashamed
of my reaction. He was a boy and my brother!

Sometimes I would wear my lingerie and pose in front of the mirror as
Francis did. Unlike me, Francis was very open about his reaction to seeing
me in stockings and stilettos, with my firm, ripe titties standing
tall. Francis would lie on his bed dressed only in his own stockings and
heels, skinning his lovely cock and telling me how beautiful I
was. Usually, I ended up ruining the mirror and Francis had to change
garter belts.

My boobs were spectacular. And they were incredibly sensitive. I mean, all
I would do some times was pinch my nipples a little and my pretty panties
would be filled with cum.

There were a couple of minor inconveniences to having fantastic boobs. It
changed my center of gravity tremendously, affecting my balance and making
it even more difficult to walk in the very high heels Mom insisted we
wear. But I adjusted to that pretty quickly. As the weather warmed and our
boobs blossomed. there was also the issue of the long, lusty stares from
men and boys. I dealt with it the only way I knew how, acting haughty and
distant. I'm sure I was thought of as the biggest cocktease in the village,
but I was just trying to avoid homosex!

Francis had a different approach. He would smile at men and boys now and
then, even engaging them in pleasant conversation. I hoped he wasn't
forgetting about the pact!

Not to worry. Francis reassured me many times that he was just exploring
the uncharted territory we found ourselves in.

I have to admit that I enjoyed some of it myself. Though I would much
rather be giving Mary Catherine O'Malley a preview of heaven, I did spend
many pleasant nights in bed, on my back, skinning my prick lovingly as I
tickled, pinched, kissed and licked my titties. I would have tremendous,
sequential Richter-Scale quality orgasms, as I heard and saw my lovely
sister, I mean brother, Francis on the other side of the room doing the
same as I.

Francis and I even managed to keep up with our violin and math
development. When June arrived, Mom pronounced that we were ready to face
Fromage and the life of high school girls.

Chapter Six -- The New Home

Fromage was very nice and our home was adorable. I mean nice.

Mom had made all the long-range arrangements and we had a home all ready to
move into, with all our furniture in place.

The town seemed like a good one, clean and friendly people. The men and
boys were very friendly to Francis and me. And to our Mom.

One advantage of pretending to be girls was that Mom didn't require us to
do yard work any more, so she hired a couple of neighborhood teenage boys
to take care of things.

Mom enrolled us in a summer reading program and took us by the high school
for registration. She had arranged for the orchestra director, Mr. Payton,
to audition Francis. He was exorbitant with his praise.

"Vanessa is a huge talent, Mrs. Morgan. I will do everything I can to help
her build that talent."

Mr. Payton was a nice man and Mom and Francis seemed very pleased.

Then I met Mr. Kelly, the school's star math teacher and coach of the
school's three-time-state-champion math team. He was a lot younger than I
imagined and very cute!!! I mean, a nice man. No wedding ring. As if that

Mr. Kelly ran me through some drills and was delighted with my ability. He
told Mom, "Neena is going to be the star of our team, Mrs. Morgan."

I loved the praise, but why was my clitty, I mean, my cock so stiff? It was
those darn silky panties, I guessed.

The summer wasn't all nerdish activities. Francis and I were good swimmers
and went to the neighborhood pool quite often. Mom, in an impish impulse,
had gotten us very brief bikinis. Thankfully, she had also gotten us, via
the Internet, devices to hide our equipment. It was a bit uncomfortable,
but we got used to it.

We looked great in those bikinis. We didn't just break boys' hearts. We
stopped them.

The boys must have figured we were in the early stages of joining a convent
or something, because we talked to the boys, but resisted their
advances. Of which there were many. Varied and multi-faceted.

One of the things that made us attractive was our apparent innocence;
combine that with naughty dressing and you create the greatest pheromone
known to man.

Another thing that made us attractive was the fact that we had had every
girlie thing in the book done to us. We had pierced our ears and waxed our
legs and bikini lines (OW!). We had regular manicures and pedicures and our
hands and feet were soft and creamy. Our eyebrows were shaped.

And our hair was long, lush and beautiful. We ditched the wigs in April and
by July, our hair was shoulder length. We used lots of conditioner and
Francis and I gave each other 50 strokes every night. With a brush,
silly. On our hair.

Francis and I were both brunettes, but at our last bi-weekly beauty parlor
visit before we left the cabin, I added some highlights. No sense looking
frumpy, pact or no pact.

The hormones were softening us everywhere it counted. Thank goodness our
cocks were still stiff and spewing more often than Old Faithful.

By August, Francis and I were itching for the mental challenges of
school. And being apart for a while. I love Francis and always will, but we
were spending too much time together.

What made things much worse was the fact that Francis, by his own
admission, was very highly sexed at that point in his life. I was too, but
I was a step behind him.

When we were in our room, Francis was always masturbating. Watching his
lovely, young, female-appearing body in filmy lingerie, writhing in sexual
arousal and delight, as he stroked his big, hard, hot cock, was getting to
be too much for me. Whenever Francis lay on his back in his black
stockings, stiletto sandals and black garter belt, I knew I was going to be
heated up. He would stroke his big love muscle until it was hard, the
foreskin retreated and the veins protruded. It would leak sticky goo in
quarts, which he would massage all over his pole and his pretty pink sack
of balls. He never wore a bra when he masturbated and his gorgeous,
suckable titties would bounce as he abused himself. His nipples would get
stiff and he would squeak like a girl.

I didn't fault him for that because we both had very girlie voices at that
point. Mom was still loading a large glob of hormones into our pretty butts
every day.

But it really got to me when he would squeal like a girl and cum buckets. I
mean a tsunami. Sometimes he screamed. Like a big sissy. Threatening the

I wondered what Francis thought about when he was doing himself. I wanted
to ask, but I was afraid of the answer.

I used to think about fucking Mary Catherine O'Malley. But that was wearing
thin. Occasionally, if I weren't careful, I would have bad thoughts. I
would imagine that I WAS Mary Catherine O'Malley and a boy was fucking
me. Very bad. I didn't know how it felt to fuck or be fucked, so my
thoughts were vague and the boy was always faceless. But the idea scared
me. Because I was a boy. And hetero.

The afternoon before school started, I walked in on Francis pounding his
meat. He wasn't on his bed as usual. He was on his stockinged knees by the
window and was looking out as he wanked. He was very excited and strangely,
I heard a buzzing. I looked out to see what he was looking at and
immediately wished I hadn't.

The two neighborhood boys who did our lawn were bagging the clippings. They
were brothers, Mark, 17 and Luke, 15, and they had their shirts off. Some
might call them cute. Francis appeared to be focusing on their bodies as he
masturbated. Or, perhaps he was just staring into space outside the
window. I hoped.

The buzzing was coming from a large object that Francis had apparently
inserted in his anus. It was exciting him very much. So much that, judging
by the large puddle of boygoo on the hardwood floor in front of him, he had
apparently cum at least once before I arrived. Two or three times appeared
more likely.

Poor Francis was whimpering badly and trying to suppress squeals or screams
that would alert the boys that they had an admirer. He looked at me in
distress, then back at the boys. His pretty eyes widened. We whimpered in
equal parts of pain and pleasure and shot four more hot globs of cum into
the sticky collection. Francis shook and grunted. His pretty ass
wiggled. His cock drooped slightly. But he continued to savage it until it
hardened again.

I busied myself at other tasks, but in a few minutes, I heard Francis sob
out a little "No," then redouble his efforts on his sore and red big
boy. He reached back to the device in his butt and pushed it in until it
disappeared. I looked out the window and saw that the boys were putting
their shirts back on to leave. Francis cried out softly and quivered as he
drooled a thin trickle of cum onto his pretty knees.

The poor guy was a wreck. I helped him over to his bed, waiting until his
butt rejected the invader. Using a tissue, I carried the ugly thing into
the bathroom. It was purple, gelatinous, and shaped like a cock. It was
flecked with Francis' poop and still buzzing. I would deal with that
later. Francis needed my attention.

I sat next to Francis on his bed. He was shaking. I stroked his hair and
told him everything would be all right.

"Will you lie next to me, Neena?" he asked me.

My name was Tim, but I agreed to.

I held Francis in my arms as he sobbed.

I was worried about the pact.

Chapter Seven -- School is In

That night, Francis begged me to sleep with him.

"No funny stuff. Just a cuddle. I need to feel someone next to me."

I agreed and Francis was good to his word. In fact, it was awfully pleasant
lying there in our pretty nighties, cuddling together. It's too bad that
boys aren't allowed to do that sort of thing.

The next morning, Mom sent us off to school in our plaid, pleated skirts,
black stockings, and four-inch stiletto heels. I was sure that we would be
the only students there in skirts, but Francis seemed very pleased with
that. He certainly was friendly to those bad boys who whistled at us when
we went in the building.

School was excellent. Great teachers and welcoming kids. Especially the
boys. Boys seemed to be wherever I went. The girls were very nice to me
too. The more I thought about it, they probably saw me as competition for
the boys. Fat chance! The girls were following the Godfather's advice about
keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

The real cherry on the sundae was the Math Team gathering after
school. Mr. Kelly introduced me to everyone and they were very
welcoming. All except the team captain, a junior named Colin Ryan. He was
standoffish and suspicious of me. I knew he was a math star and probably
viewed me as a competitor for Alpha status. Well, too bad, Mr. Colin
Ryan. Probably a sexist too, who thought girls couldn't do math. Which we
could. If I had been a girl. Confused? Me too.

I especially liked Ginger Manfred, a fellow freshman and the only real girl
on the team. We hit it off right away. And she was a cutie! Maybe I could
still have a girlfriend, dressed as I was.

Time went by and as we entered October, I was worried about Francis more
and more. We slept in the same bed every night and Francis was starting to
cross a lot of lines.

Some nights when we were cuddling, I would feel his soft, warm hand on my
penis. He started out the first three weeks bringing me to a spunky climax
through my silky nightie. Then he began to reach in and love me with his
skilled hand on my warm, bare flesh. I felt obligated to return the favor
and was afraid of where it was leading.

Ginger and I were becoming great friends, but nothing sexual. Darn. I
almost blew my cover with her one day after school. She was telling me all
about some boy she liked and how badly he was treating her. I listened
briefly, then began to suggest ways she could solve her problem. Ginger
stopped talking, looking at me with a "Who are you?" stare. Thanks goodness
I realized what I had done. When women tell you their problems, all they
want is listening and acknowledgement. When a guy listens to a problem, he
tries to solve it. I apologized immediately and listened to the entire tale
of woe, saying nothing more complicated than, "How awful for you." Ginger
loved our conversation.

The second week of October, Wisconsin's Green Bay Packers were playing our
hated rivals, the Chicago Bears. I always loved football, but for some
reason, hadn't really seen any games that year.

I was determined to see that one, and told Mom and Francis my
intentions. They agreed. I made some air-popped, butter-free popcorn (no
pork rinds and cheese doodles) and brought it into the family room for us
to share as we watched the game.

It was still a half hour until game time and Mom and Francis were watching
a movie. I sat between them and killed time by watching.

It was an old movie with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr called "An Affair to
Remember." They were such a wonderful couple and deserved to be together,
but circumstances conspired to keep them apart until finally and
gloriously, they found love and fulfillment. I was weeping openly and so
were Mom and Francis. We hugged each other and passed the Kleenex until we
were able to stop crying. The station followed that movie up with
"Sleepless in Seattle" another movie with the same basic plot. In fact,
they kept referring to "An Affair to Remember" throughout "Sleepless in
Seattle." It was another four-hankie job and we all had an excellent cry
when Meg and Tom finally met and fell in love. When I got off the couch, it
never even occurred to me that I had missed the entire football game. I
wondered what that meant.

Chapter Eight -- Michael

Next to Francis, Michael Frazer was the finest musician at Fromage High
School. Before Francis arrived, violist Michael was the best -- by a long
shot. But he didn't appear to mind being second fiddle to Francis. In fact,
he appeared to be smitten by Francis.

Sleeping with me appeared to have taken the edge off of Francis' sexual
desperation. But I was worried when Mom told us that she was inviting the
Frazers, including Michael, over for dinner the following Sunday night.

Be strong, Francis.

That Sunday, Francis wore his prettiest dress and spent at least two hours
fixing his hair and make-up. Red alert!

Mr. and Mrs. Frazer were lovely people and Mom was charmed by them and
their son. Michael was disgustingly solicitous of Francis. He held Francis'
chair, laughed at Francis' lame jokes and practically fainted whenever
Francis smiled at him.

When they were finally leaving, Mom asked me to help her in the
kitchen. That left Francis and Michael alone for a few minutes while the
Frazers "went outside to get the car."

After Michael left, Francis was walking on air. I wanted to ask him why
without Mom around, but he told her in front of me.

"Michael asked me out for pizza and a movie on Friday night. I said yes,"
the little sissy gushed.

I was horrified. The pact! But Mom was delighted. She hugged Francis and
they began discussing what Francis should wear.

In our bedroom, I asked Francis why he was such an idiot and reminded him
of the pact.

"I'm sorry, Timmy." Francis said. "But I'm tired of sitting home every
weekend. And I won't find a nicer boy then Michael."

Was all lost? I ran off to the bathroom to cry. That night I slept in my
own bed.

I missed Francis and relented on Thursday night, joining him in bed for a
little light kissing and some friendly, mutual masturbation. Was all that
going to end as well?

I slept poorly that night and dreamed vividly. I was married to Mr. Kelly,
the math team faculty advisor. We had a perfect baby and Mr. Kelly, I
couldn't think of his first name in my dream, came home to the baby and me
every night. I was dressed in the prettiest frock and Mr. Kelly kissed me
perfectly, played with our baby happily, told me all about his day and his
feelings. Then I told him all my feelings and he listened without judgment,
but with full support. When our baby went to bed, Mr. Kelly went off to
shower for bed and I got into the sexiest nightie and put on sweet perfume
and killer eye makeup.

In my dream, I lay in bed and wiggled in anticipation of a beautiful
fucking from my perfect husband. Mr. Kelly emerged from the shower and
joined me on the bed. He had a perfect manly body, very hairy and with a
<blush> twelve-inch cock. I kissed and licked its beautiful head and
Mr. Kelly groaned with love for me. After some active licking, Mr. Kelly's
cock turned into a cum fountain, spewing cum in big globs. I licked at it
happily, swallowing what I could. Mr. Kelly was still very hard. He turned
me on my back and entered my asshole smoothly with all twelve inches, and
no lubrication. (It WAS a dream.) I squealed with delight as he fucked me,
kissed me and played with my clitty. Since I had no idea how being fucked
felt, that part of the dream was more vague than the rest. But I felt warm,
comfortable and loved.

The dream ended with Mr. Kelly shaking and cumming a large amount of man
juice into my delighted asshole as I came all over my flat
tummy. Unfortunately, that was when I woke up. I was in a cold sweat and my
cock was blowing juice in a 360!

Was I thinking about breaking the pact as well?

Chapter Nine -- Francis Steps Out

The next evening, Francis put more effort into dressing for a pizza and
movie date than any girl or alleged girl in history. I have to admit that
in his lovely blue miniskirt, ribbed white sweater, beige stockings and
blue heels, he looked fantastic. But why was he doing this? He would be
eighteen in less than two years.

Not only that, but the little tramp wore my favorite gold hoops and didn't
even ask me.

He was nervous, but happy. I tried to be happy for him and got very close.

Michael arrived exactly on time, glowing with love. "You look amazing,
Vanessa," the poor sap told Francis.

Francis blushed, batted his pretty eyes and said, "Thank you, Michael. So
do you."

Michael brought him flowers too. Nice ones. I felt the tiniest tinge of
jealousy. No I didn't. I was a boy.

They went off together and Mom and I watched TV. For some strange reason,
Mom then took me to the late movie -- a three-hour one. We never went to
late movies and Mom hated long movies. Then she left Francis a long note
explaining where we were and exactly when we would be home. Strange.

When we got home around 1:15 a.m., I was tired. Michael was just walking to
his car and Francis was waving goodbye.

I was very upset when I saw that Francis' makeup, particularly his
lipstick, had been greatly disturbed. He also seemed in way too good a mood
for someone who had just been alone with a lustful boy.

When we got to our room, I asked him. "Did you kiss, Michael tonight,

Francis got a dreamy look in his eyes and said, "Hundreds of times. It was
fantastic! I've never been so turned on in my life. I think he loves me."

I wanted to puke. "Was that all you did with him, Francis?"

"For now. I'm not a tramp, Neena."

"My name is Tim, Francis."

"Whatever. Please excuse me. I have to get ready for bed. My balls are sore
and blue from all that excitement and no relief. Would you like to give me

My cock stiffened at the thought. But I said, "No thank you."

I lay in bed sobbing at the pact's imminent demise. And listening to
Francis pleasuring himself lustily. Thinking of that BOY he kissed that

Chapter Ten -- Francis Shatters the Pact

The next day, I was sick to my stomach watching Francis giggling with Mom
and telling her all about his "date."

I wanted to be happy for Francis but I looked at him and saw Benedict
Arnold (or John Walker). The pact should have been above all!

At least school was a sanctuary, but on Monday, even that turned sour. I
was running some math drills with the team that afternoon. We were looking
sharp. Ginger was with the program, but that buttmunch, our captain, Colin
Ryan was so picky to everyone. He was obsessed with perfection. Mr. Kelly,
sweet Mr. Kelly of my icky (yummy) dream, was the peacemaker. But then even
he faded in my eyes.

You see, we all knew Mr. Kelly was single. Ginger and I would sort of
fantasize about him. I was just playing along, of course. But that
afternoon, practice ran late because of Colin's pushiness. So Mr. Kelly's
ride came in looking for him. A gorgeous woman in her mid-20s, whom
Mr. Kelly introduced as Ellen, his fiancée.

I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. Twice in three days. My dreams
were ruined now, as well as the pact. Of course I would never DO anything
with Mr. Kelly. It was just innocent erotic thought. But that WOMAN ruined

Just when I was totally bummed out, Colin came up to me and said, "You're
really good, Neena. I'm glad you're on our team. I think that, because of
you, we can win state again this year."

Then he smiled. For the first time in anyone's memory. It was a very nice
smile. Very nice. And for some crazy reason, my panties got very tight.

I forgave Francis, of course, and he and I had cuddles again. I began to
suspect that Mom was giving us something to stimulate our sex drive as well
as make us girlish, but she would just smile when we asked her. I felt
guilty about the I-word nature of it, but we weren't fucking or
anything. Just cuddling each other's privates. And kissing. No tongue. OK,
just a little. But not much. And some exquisite ball massage - a lovely and
little-known art.

When his Friday night date rolled around again, everything was as before,
including us clearing out for a late, bad movie so Francis and Michael
could smooch. I was praying that that was all.

That prayer went unanswered. When Mom and I got home, Michael was speeding
off and Francis was in our room getting into his nightie. I said hi, then
noticed something that chilled my heart.

"Francis," I asked. "What's that on your chin?"

Francis looked in the mirror and said, "I believe that's Michael's cum,

It was bad enough that he had started last week to call me Neena. But had
he really sucked a boy's cock? The popcorn I had at the movie was rumbling
and threatening to come up.

I whispered loudly, "You sucked his cock? You traitor! You tramp!" Then I
did go into our bathroom and hurl.

Oh, I was miserable. The pact was history. I stood alone against evil, like
England in late 1940 and early 1941..

Francis tried to hug me, but I resisted.

"Why, Francis? Why?"

"I'm sorry, Neena. I just don't want to be alone. And Michael is a
wonderful boy. He loves me as a girl and I want to be a girl for him."

"Does Michael know about, you know?" I asked.

Francis looked at me directly. "I told him tonight."

I was almost catatonic with fear. "What did he do?"

"He said he loved me anyway. Maybe even more. And then he kissed, licked
and sucked my clitty until I came down his beautiful throat. He's an
angel. I really want him to fuck me."

I lay there on my bed, my large chest heaving. Imagining a pact shattering
to pieces. Then it hit me. Maybe the pact was a bad idea. Maybe Francis was
right (or Vanessa or whatever she wants to be called.) My cock certainly
stiffened up when Colin smiled at me that afternoon. And I was a puddle of
love dreaming about Mr. Kelly. Maybe I should just see what's on the other
side. Maybe that's what Francis was doing. Maybe the pact was intact in a
different way! Or maybe Francis just wanted to be Vanessa and get fucked in
the ass.

For the first time, I was willing to let the girlish feelings wash over
me. Or at least trickle. Wash later. Maybe.

Chapter Eleven -- Vanessa's Big Night (and mine)

Well, as luck would have it, the following Saturday was the school's annual
fall dance. Michael was humiliated to ask Vanessa at that late date, but
she gushed and melted when he asked. She reasoned that it was really the
earliest he could have asked. Mom and Vanessa went out looking for a dress
and found a stunner. A black strapless number that made Vanessa look like a
princess, with a slit that made her look like a hooker. Perfect! Vanessa
really did have the body for it. Her legs were spectacular. This time I
admitted it. I was jealous.

Michael's Mom and Dad came over to the house with him for picture taking
and to see Vanessa. She was an absolute doll. I told her so and gave her a
big hug. And let her wear my favorite black, stiletto sandals.

Poor Neena was not the center of attention that night and I was feeling a
bit low when Princess Vanessa and her court departed. Mom and I had a light
supper and then the phone rang as we were washing dishes.

It was Colin, the captain of our math team. He had some material he wanted
to bring over to me and wanted to discuss strategy for next week's state
finals. I brightened at the prospect of seeing him and asked him over.

Mom asked if she should go see a movie.

I poo-pooed the idea, saying it was math club stuff.

Mom said, if that were all it was, it could have waited until Monday. She
said that I shouldn't worry about her intruding. She would greet Colin and

I told her that was unnecessary, but part of me wished it weren't.

Colin arrived 15 minutes later. Mom said hi, then disappeared. He tried to
be serious about the math club stuff, but it was a thin ruse.

Finally Colin admitted, "I've had a crush on you since the first moment I
saw you. I'm sorry I was such a putz. That was my way of denying my
feelings, I guess."

That was an interesting development. Why were my ears so warm?

I sat on the couch. Then I patted the seat next to me. Colin obeyed my

"Tell me more," I said.

Colin did. He told me how beautiful and sexy I was, but he said it was my
intelligence and good nature that were particularly attractive to him.

My nipples were erect against my bra. And my cock was in red alert. Earned
praise is a powerful aphrodisiac.

Then he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

The words, THE PACT, slid across my mind in big red letters. Then my mind
blew them up.

"I think so," I giggled girlishly. "And you MAY, too."

Mmmmmm. Colin's lips covered mine. My body tingled. I was more excited than
I had ever been in my life. Who needed Mary Catherine O'Malley?

I clamped my thighs to keep my little secret from being discovered. That
was a big mistake. The rubbing was exciting her.

Colin held me in his arms and praised my beauty. This girl stuff wasn't
half bad. Then he kissed my neck. My ears. My eyes. My lips.

I took the reins a bit and gave him the tiniest tip of my tongue. That
escalated until we were licking each other's tonsils. I formed a picture in
my mind of Colin's cock in my butt and my clitty exploded. I trembled and
wanted to squeal, but I didn't want Colin to know I had cum. Good glory,
had I cum. It was oozing all over my thighs. Thank goodness I was wearing a
dark wool skirt.

I was horribly excited and wanted to eat this young man up, but the time
and place were wrong. I kissed him sweetly and said, "That's far enough for
tonight, don't you think, Colin?"

At that point, Colin would have agreed that the headlines in that week's
Weekly World News were gospel. He calmed down and asked if we could go out
some time after the math competitions the following weekend.

I eagerly agreed. I saw him to the door, kissed him, then leaned against
the door. Like a tidal wave, the girlish feelings I had resisted for nine
months washed over me. I felt wonderful.

Chapter Twelve -- Debriefing

Mom, of course, wanted a blow-by-blow, although Colin and I didn't get THAT
far. She could see that I had let go of my masculinity and she was very
pleased. When Vanessa got into the bedroom at around 4 a.m., I wondered if
she was still a girl virgin. Her smile when she told me to go back to sleep
was my answer.

Sleep avoided me, so I got in bed with Vanessa and we cuddled in our tiny

Vanessa kissed me and asked about my night. I told her about kissing Colin
and getting so excited I made a big, cummy mess in my panties.

Vanessa squealed with delight, hugging and kissing me excitedly. "I so want
you to be happy, Neena," she said. "You took a big, first step tonight. I'm
proud of you."

I glowed with the praise. Then I asked her, "So did you let Michael put his
thing in you?"

She sighed with pleasure at the recent memory. "Oh, yes! It was fantastic."

Despite myself, I said, "Details. Give me details."

"The sweet boy adores me. He treated me like the world's most precious
jewel and was attentive to my every want and need. If I was an XX girl,
that would have been license to treat him like crap, but we special girls
know a good thing when we see it."

I agreed. What was it with XX girls anyway? They abuse the nice guys and
let the rats abuse them. Oh, well. That leaves more nice guys for us
special girls.

"I was the complete center of attention the whole night, and what girl
doesn't adore that? We danced. We talked. I told him my feelings and my
problems. He listened. At midnight, the dance was over and he drove me
home. You and Mom were asleep, so we went to the family room. Michael
kissed my long, creamy neck as he unzipped my gown. It puddled at my feet
as I stood there in my lingerie. I faced him and he removed his
jacket. Then he kissed me like he meant it. It was wonderful!"

My little clitty was getting all stiff at the thought. I hadn't cum in more
than 30 hours and my little pink bag was full of cummies. Vanessa sensed
this and began to tickle my little tee tees, rolling them gently in her
pretty fingers.

"We were very steamed up in no time," my sister continued. "And Michael's
clothes disappeared. It was the first time I saw him naked and he's
glorious. So masculine and hard in the right spots. I peeled off my slip
and Michael moved in for some embracing and kissing. The bad boy was all
over me! I managed to steer him to the couch. I lay on my back, wearing
only my bra, panties, black stockings, garter belt and pretty heels (thanks
again for the loan). Michael kneeled next to me and gently pushed my bra
below my throbbing titties. My big, brown nipples were exposed for
Michael's pleasure. He caressed each one with his talented, violist's
hands. Softly, teasingly. Just as you're doing to me now, Neena. Ohhhhhh."

Was I doing that? Yes, I was.

"Don't stop. So good. Then Michael began to kiss my right titty all
over. Little flutter kisses that made my clitty all stiff and sore, just as
it is now. That's it Neena, just rub it like that and kiss my nipple a
little and I'll tell you everything. He did the same to my left titty and
then he began to suck and lick each one, going back and forth as he rubbed
the front of my wispy panties. I moaned with lust as he brought me to
Heaven's Gate, then he pulled me in. I closed my eyes, trembled, then
squealed in sweet release. Cum filled my tiny panties as the rogue kept
adoring my breasts. He was very good. Just as you are. Use your thumb
there. That's it. Oh, Sweetie, that's so...Oh...Neena,

Vanessa made a huge mess all over my fingers and her cute nightie. Oh,

After breathing heavily, Vanessa said, "Let me do you for a while. Lay
back. That's a good girl. Well. Michael peeled off my cummy panties and
asked me if I had lubed my little hole. I looked at him innocently and said
no, but he could do it with his <blush> mouth if he wanted. Michael got an
evil look in his eye. Then he stood me up while he sat on the couch. He
turned me so that my derriere was in his face. Then he parted my cheeks
with his thumbs, sighed deeply and put his tongue on my anus ring. Oh,
Sweetie, you have to have Colin do that to you. It's absolute heaven! He
tongued my dirty place as if it were a Dairy Queen special. It was so
intense, I could barely stand on my big heels. My knees were weak. And my
clitty was outrageous. It was just so dirty and exciting. I looked over my
shoulder at the man at work and saw that his flag was waving. As much as I
was enjoying the preliminaries, I wanted dessert. So I inquired if he was
in the mood to
fuck me. I believe that putting me on my back, and placing my calves on
his shoulders was a positive response to my question. Is this story
exciting you, my dear sister?"

I moaned. My clitty was twitching from the delicious friction and the hot

"I see it is. I looked into Michael's eyes and saw love and something
else. Gratitude. He was truly grateful that I was on this earth and there
with him. It was an intense aphrodisiac. So was that big cock, whose eye
was staring at me, then moving to my now-relaxed pussyhole. He posed it at
the entrance, then said, `I love you, Vanessa.' I smiled and grunted, too
aroused for articulation. He pushed. I gasped. It was in. He pushed
again. I squealed. It was all in. I began to cry with joy as my nasty
virginity slunk away. The cock in my butt was the center of my world. I was
in paradise. Oh, Honey, I think you're about to make a visit there
yourself. That's it. Let it go. Oh. That was a big one. Oh,
another. Ooooh. More? You really needed that. Just little dribbles
now. It's OK to whimper, Sweetheart. Colin will give you everything I got
from Michael. We're girls now, Sweetie. We control sex and can have it
whenever we want."

With that comforting thought, I dropped off to sleep.

Chapter Thirteen -- Practice

After Vanessa's story, I wanted Colin's rammer in my tiny place as soon as
possible. But the opportunity just wasn't there. The Math Team had a major
competition in Madison on Saturday and Colin seemed to be tied up with

At lunch on Wednesday, however, Colin told me that he had reserved room 305
for Math Club practice today during 7th period. As the captain, he had
gotten me excused from my class and we would be alone for practice.

My clitty was dripping steadily from lunch until 7th period. What was that
bad boy planning? I hoped it was really naughty.

I showed up for practice on time and was disappointed to see the math books
spread out. What kind of lover did I have here? He greeted me with a shy,

I returned his "Hi," looking down shyly, then batting my beautiful eyes at

We looked at each other. He looked as if he were about to burst. Then he
did. "You're all I could..."

I blurted, "Ever since Saturday, I wanted..." We flew to each other's arms
and kissed greedily. Oh, it was so passionate and my clitty was standing
tall. I had to hide it or...Too late. He had me in a clinch and my sore
jewel was rubbing against his crotch. What would he do? He kept kissing me,
passion building to a boil. I stopped kissing him and stared, amazed.

He stopped kissing me, smiled and said, "What? Oh, this?" He fondled my
doodle through my skirt and slip. Nicely. "Your mother called me Sunday and
told me everything. She wanted to make sure I treated you well."

What a meddlesome Mom! And a sweet one.

Colin broke our embrace and I whimpered softly. But he was only propping a
chair under the doorknob so we wouldn't be surprised. He came back and
said, "Where were we?" And he kissed me sweetly, reaching under my skirt
around my right hip and into my panties to caress my bottom with his left
hand and rubbing my clitty though my panties with his right. Kissing me all
the while. With lots of yummy tongue. In my mouth. It was so exciting and
we were right in school. In danger of being discovered. Any minute.
Rubbing. Kissing. Stroking my soft, delicious butt. More kissing. He was
very excited. I could feel it though his pants. There was a big wet spot
forming at the tip of his cock and dripping on his pants. But he didn't
remove them. He was concentrating on my pleasure. Which there was a lot
of. Intense. Kissing. Rubbing. Fondling. Oh, mama! My clitty was throbbing
as he rubbed my panties. It was all atingle. I winced at the intensity. Oh,
the sweet agony. My balls seized up and bloooie, a big mess in my panties.
I squealed. He smiled. Another big mess in my panties. I squeaked. A third
mess. I whimpered, trying to catch my breath.

I fell to my stockinged knees in front of Colin and his cock magically
appeared. It was spectacular! Ridges and veins and a big brown foreskin
covering a purple, velvet mushroom. Yes! I inspected it carefully, fondling
every inch and paying lots of attention to his big, heavy bag, laden with
yummy boygoo. Colin moaned with appreciation. I kissed his wrinkled bag,
then all along his warm shaft. By the time I reached his peehole, he was in
some sexual distress. Goody. I was barely able to get the whole head in my
mouth, but I licked it like the world's tastiest all-day sucker.

I had crossed the line. I was now a cocksucker. And happy to be one. I felt
the smooth crown on my pallet and the ultra-sensitive "arrowhead" along my
tongue. My giggling and gurgles of appreciation, together with some
excellent tongue work, had him jumping out of his skin. What would I do
when he exploded? As I was pondering that, Colin muttered something loving,
I think, grunted, and let a big sticky glob fly into my willing
gullet. Then another. And three more. I swallowed as fast as I could,
nearly choking, but girlfully taking my man's best shots. It was heavenly
to be able to bring him such pleasure.

Colin thanked me dearly, then laid me on the big teacher's desk. He kissed
me softly, then pulled my tiny, cum-soaked panties down to my thighs. He
scooped some of my big load onto his fingers, then asked me to raise my
legs. The bad boy put his cum-filled fingers into my ass! Then he found my
prostate and things really got hot. How did he ever learn how to do
thaaaaatttt? Ohhhhhhhhh! It was incredible. I was stiff as ever in
nanoseconds. He was reaching into my sexual soul.

Then he kicked it up a notch. As he was taking me to new places with his
fingers, he breathed on my balls. That's all. Breathed. It felt better than
when Mary Catherine O'Malley sucked my cock a lifetime ago. Every pore,
every hair was on fire. He breathed on my shaft. Ohhhhhhh. Then he blew a
thin stream of hot air all over my clitty head. While rubbing my poor
prostate. With my own cum. Holy Toledo! He hadn't touched my clitty and I
was ready to go into orbit. Softly, almost imperceptively, he kissed my
right testicle. Aaaaaah. Then my left. Uhhhhh. This was cruel and
unusual. He applied the same phantom kisses along my throbbing, agonized
shaft. Nothing in my experience or imagination prepared me for the moment
when he applied the ghost kisses to the soft, arrow-shaped underside of my
clitty head. My bottom clenched his fingers. My back arched. My big, brown
nipples erected. I screamed softly (thank goodness). My clitty jerked and
spewed, jerked
and spewed. I saw a bright light and a figure beckoning me. Well. Maybe
not, but almost. I was almost KIA. That was the single greatest moment of
my life.

This girl stuff was all right.

Things were happening quickly. Colin was rampant again and rubbing my cum
on his cockhead. He spread my legs and placed them on his shoulders. I
wanted to dig my high heels into his back and draw him into me. He placed
the wet tip of his big boy at my wrinkled rosebud. I felt it poised to
enter. I was going to be fucked. Yesssss!

Knock. Knock. "Colin! Neena! Are you in there?"

It was Ginger, at the worst possible moment. I whimpered. Colin said,
"Soon, my Love." Let's get dressed.

His love. Mmmmmm.

"Just a minute," I said.

I slipped my cummy panties into my book bag. Colin put his disappointed,
but unbowed champion in his pants and I answered the door.

"Sorry to disturb you," Ginger said. "But the schedule has been changed and
the chess club will be coming into that room in three minutes. I thought
you would want to know."

Ginger saved us. I hugged her and thanked her.

Ginger said, "You know, you and I are rooming together in Madison on
Saturday night and Colin and Dave are too. Maybe after Mr. Kelly makes his
bedchecks, we can trade rooms. Dave and I like each other and by the smell
in here, so do you and Colin. <Giggle>"

"But," I asked, "Won't Mr. Kelly be checking on us more than once? "

"His fiancée is coming on the trip. I think he'll be too busy to

What a good friend Ginger was.

Chapter Fourteen -- Game Day

I told Vanessa about sucking my first cock and she squealed and jumped like
Christmas. I also told her about my near miss.

"Did you want to be fucked, Neena?" she asked.

"Very much," I answered honestly.

"Then it seems like Saturday will be the day."

I certainly hoped so.

On Saturday, the Math Team piled into the school van and we were off to
Madison. Ellen, Mr. Kelly's fiancée, rode with us. She wasn't supposed to
be with us, but I for one, was not about to rat her out. I no longer wanted
to scratch her eyes out and her entertainment of our coach was the key to
me getting diddled that evening. Mmmm.

That afternoon, we skunked those pathetic losers from Madison by a whole
half point. To celebrate, we had a pizza party at the hotel's indoor
pool. I wore my skimpy bikini from last summer, and that gaff thing to
contain my excitement. I got a lot of looks from passers-by, as well as the
male Math Team members. Unless my vision was failing, I think I got some
looks from Mr. Kelly, which explained why his shin was bruised. Ellen was
watching him closely.

I may also have gotten some of those looks from Ginger, which was a
development I hadn't considered and wasn't sure interested me any
more. Still, it was nice to have options.

Colin was firing those looks my way and I was firing them back at him. He
and I were going to make beautiful music that night.

The party broke up at ten. Ginger and I went back to our room, took
showers, alone, darn it, and primped for our big nights. Ginger had the
cutest little white nightgown and peignoir. I had a tiny pink babydoll with
matching skimpy panties and even wore pink, seamed stockings and pink,
fluffy, four-inch-heeled mules. We flipped for who was going to leave the
room and Ginger lost. At eleven, Mr. Kelly made his bedcheck and gulped
when he saw us in our sexy finery. Fifteen minutes later, I traded a Ginger
for a Colin.

Colin was nude in seconds and all mine. The one-time sourpuss couldn't stop
smiling. He hugged and kissed me and said, "Tonight, you're getting a

What did he mean?

"You're going to cum twice for every time I cum. And I'm going to cum a


He kissed my neck and shoulders making me gasp with delight. He mumbled
that he loved my perfume. I smelled his manly cologne and sexual

No one had ever really kissed my titties, but it appeared that was about to
change. Colin laid me on my back and kissed me up and down, ending up at my
right breast. I wiggled as he licked my nipple through my nightie, then
pulled the filmy cloth over my breast to expose an erected treasure of
love. Soft kisses and licks were applied to each breast. A determined hand
found my clitty in my barely-there panties. He kissed. He stroked. I
squealed and bedewed his fingers with my first emission of that glorious
night. Colin rubbed my hot cum all over my balls and continued to kiss my
breasts, praising them each time he raised his lips. A girl does like to
know she's beautiful. The cum rubbing on my balls was very naughty and the
titty-kissing, oh, oh. I felt the little ping. Then a bigger pong. Then I
writhed to another delicious cum. Oh, that boy, Colin.

The sweet boy told me he wanted to relax me some more before he pierced my
pooper, so he lay on his back and asked me to reverse and ease my bottom
down on his face. I had come twice and he had not yet spilled a sperm. But
he seemed unconcerned. His pooper poker was perky, however. I decided to
follow an agenda I was enjoying immensely.

I was about to have my tiny hole licked and my stiffie was back
already. Colin parted my cheeks gently with his thumbs and gasped at the
beauty if my little pink hole. He extended his tongue gently, then licked
around the entrance. Oh, no. I couldn't be cumming already, could I?
Aaaaaaaaaaahh. I was. Uuuuuuuuuh. I was such a little cummer. Big airborne
spurts landing on Colin's flat tummy.

And still he licked. Then he dug his tongue into the hole. I had a vision
of paradise. And my cock was, though it was nearly impossible to imagine,
rock-hard again. Colin dug and licked until, crying and shivering with
passion, I came yet again.

I liked this boy.

Four for me, none for Colin. He had some catching up to do.

I flipped on my back, cranked my knees up, whimpered, and begged him to
fuck me NOW! Not wishing to disappoint a lady, he put my pretty,
pink-stockinged calves on his shoulders and placed his poker at my
hole. The big teaser just looked at me.

"Please!" I screamed. "Fuck me!" I wondered idly if anyone was in the next
room. If so, they were getting a hell of a show.

Colin pushed and my life was complete. I was being skillfully, lovingly
fucked by a wonderful young man. I felt every pore of his cock as it
entered me. I squealed and squirmed to get it all. I was grunting in a very
unladylike way, every time he thrust in me. I was ravenous of his cock. I
wanted it in me, on me and through me. I wanted his cum on every inch of my
beautiful body.

I was every man's dream. A beautiful girl with a teenage boy's sex drive.

Colin was enjoying himself immensely. He leaned over and kissed me
frequently and through rests at critical moments, was able to hold off his
orgasm for about 20 minutes. Then he could hold no more. The point of no
return seemed to surprise him. And me. I had stayed soft during the entire
fuck, probably due to my previous, multiple dewings. But his obvious
distress was exciting me to a half-stand. Was I going to cum when he did? I
was. Oh my. I was. He squinted. I squinted. He scrunched his handsome
face. I scrunched my work of art. I drooled out three soft globs of girlie
goo and whimpered loudly from the sweet torment. Colin groaned and released
a torrent of his manly seed to my eager butt. We shook. We formed a sheen
of sweat on our bodies. We moaned and came and came and came.

We flopped on our backs, chests heaving after our near-death cums. I
cuddled next to him silently, crying with girlish joy. Colin kissed away
each tear. He was a keeper.

I was now leading five to one and wasn't sure that my body could tolerate
another eruption like the last one for at least five years. Taking the
offensive, I scooted down to Colin and took his limp cock in my mouth and
nursed it gently. I knew it had flecks of my poop on it, but that made it
even nastier. And sexier.

As I sucked, Colin told me I was the girl he had always dreamed of. I must
have been doing it right, because in ten minutes, his Johnson was once
again bold and beautiful. I licked his balls and he liked that very
much. After twenty minutes of some talented attention, if I do say so, to
Colin's pubic region, his balls seized and he erupted in my pretty
face. Oh, how I loved having a face full of my lover's hot cum. It was so
intimate and it made him so happy!

I called timeout to wash my face and tune up my make-up, then left the ball
in his court.

We talked of love and cuddled for a while. Then he sat up and peeled down
my pretty stockings, removing them slowly. What was this?

Oh, did I find out! Colin held my right foot to his mouth and kissed my
pretty, painted toes. Mmmm. Then he licked them. Ohhhh. Then he sucked each
one and licked the area between each toe with plentiful saliva. Wowie,

Girls, you must try that. Run don't walk to have your man lick your tiny

Colin did the same to my other foot and my clitty found resurrection. Hard
and throbbing without being touched. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act,
but steam was coming from my ears and three hot jets of cum leaped from my
exhausted-but-apparently-not-dead little girlfriend.

My goodness. I had cum six times to Colin's two. Would I survive this boy?

Colin was stiff again and asked me to lie on my side. I did, hoping I
wouldn't need to go to the Emergency Room when all this was over.

He entered me lovingly while we were in the spoon position. I was still wet
and loose, so entry was smooth and delightful.

Colin kissed my neck and shoulders and, when I turned my head, my lips, as
he fucked me slowly and luxuriously. I must have lost track of time, but I
would guess we were at it for an hour. I did not get hard again that night,
but as Colin grunted through his Olympian pleasure, I was hit by a freight
train cum. I fell off the tracks and down an embankment. The train jumped
the track and came back to run me over again. But all my limp noodle
produced was two watery drops.

I was fucked out.

And so was Colin. Even though I had cum seven times to his three. He asked
if I would hold the odd one and credit it to his account for next
time. Done.

It was 3 a.m., a good time to sneak back into the assigned rooms. I
sniffled a little saying goodbye to Colin, but knowing Mom, she wouldn't
have minded if I brought him home and we fucked on the kitchen table. I
told him so and he laughed. We would have many wonderful adventures

Chapter Fifteen -- Finishing Business

Three months later, Vanessa and I were in our room discussing our wonderful

Michael, we both agreed was wonderful to Vanessa. He adored her and treated
her regally. Colin was the greatest lover on earth and worshiped every part
of me, even my toes <giggle>.

Life was good. But that particular weekend, we were alone. Colin was out of
town at a family wedding and Michael was with his parents visiting

Mom was with her new boyfriend. A truly nice man named Bret, who had
changed Mom's murderous attitude about men. Mom wouldn't be home until
ten. And she promised she would call first. An hour ahead. She was always
looking for us to get lucky.

Vanessa reviewed our position and asked if I was feeling daring.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Remember last summer when I was in a bit of a dither and looking out the
window at those boys who did our lawn?"

"Mark and Luke? Sure. It wasn't your fault, Vanessa. You were totally

"True, Sweetie. But it's a loose end for me, you know?"

"I don't get it."

"We have wonderful boyfriends, but you know we're highly sexed and they're
not here. We should maybe invite Mark and Luke over, you know. And fuck

The idea stirred my clitty. "But what if Colin and Michael find out."

"We cry. We beg their forgiveness and we have some incredible make-up sex."

That sounded great. "Do you think Mark and Luke would agree?"

"They'll be here in an hour and they're cool with our secret. They know the
ass stops if they talk."

Do you believe her? My sister the tart. How wonderful.

"And there's another reason I invited them, Neena."

"What's that?"

"I really want to watch you getting fucked. I want to see your face as a
boy fills you with cum. I want to watch a boy make you cum."

Oooooo. "OK."

We sissied up for the boys and within half an hour we were on our backs
with their large cocks pounding our asspussies. Our titties were making
flopping sounds as the boys pushed and pulled.

Vanessa and I were lying next to each other and studying each other's
responses. We were so much alike. I reached over and began to frig
Vanessa's gorgeous clitty. She did the same to mine. That drove the boys
insane with lust and they belabored our pretty butts unmercifully. As I
felt myself about to cum, I leaned over and kissed my sister, sticking my
tongue down her pretty throat. She convulsed and joined me in paradise. Who
were those boys again?

My tummy was covered with my own cum, my butt was drooling Luke's, my
fingers were doused with Vanessa's.

It was wonderful.

I wondered whether Mr. Kelly really had a twelve-inch cock. And I wondered
what it would feel like in my butt.

It occurred to me that with very little effort, I could find out.

I love being a girl.

Please tell me what you think at

My other stories on nifty:

"Acting Up" transgender -- control
"Panty Pleasures" transgender -- young friends
"Woodville" transgender -- tv
"Mothered" transgender -- control
"Panty Town" transgender -- teen
"Tradition" transgender -- teen
"Punished" transgender -- high school
"Panty Paradise" transgender -- teen
"Kevin and Molly Go to Camp" -- transgender -- teen
"Lovelife" -- transgender -- high school
"My Three Sissies" -- transgender -- tv
"Acting Out" -- transgender -- high school
"Explorers" -- transgender -- high school
"Pantied" -- transgender -- young friends
"Rebuilding" -- transgender -- teen
"The Au Pair" -- transgender -- surgery
"Birthday Girl" -- transgender -- teen
"Genes" -- transgender -- high school

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