A Twin's Accidental SRS

A Twin's Accidental SRS
By Jennifer Sue

 

What I did on my Summer Vacation


  
Monday, September 8, 2008 Southern Junior High, Millford School District
Jamie Travers Grade 7, Class 4-C Miss Demeanor
 
My brother Bobby and I are identical twins. Our parents, William and Joan Travers, are realtors with a successful business. We twins were both highly competitive, and there was a constant rivalry between us, although there were seldom fights. We were quite evenly matched in every area, and neither was able to dominate the other. The status quo of our lives went undisturbed until this past summer just after we celebrated our twelfth birthdays. That was when our family decided we would spend a month traveling the southwest and Northern Mexico.

The first week was hectic but fun as we visited the Grand Canyon, Carlsbad Caverns, and many other sites in New Mexico and Arizona. The second week was to be spent in Mexico before moving on to California. Our trip was disrupted quite suddenly when mom screamed. Looking up from the back seat I saw a bus loaded with people careening wildly down the winding mountain road we were headed up. The bus was swerving into their path. The last thing I remember was the horrendous squeal of tires followed by the shriek of shredding steel.

Later I found out that miraculously, no one was killed, although there were dozens injured. It seems our SUV prevented the bus from plunging over the side. But the cost was that my entire family was injured and unconscious. The ambulances and trucks that responded to the accident took the most severely injured to the nearest hospital, and in this way my family was separated.

Since I wasn't as seriously injured as the others, I wound up in a different hospital from the rest of the family. Actually, it was a private clinic that opened it's doors to assist in the emergency. When I regained consciousness, I had a tremendous headache and some bruising, but was otherwise okay. Naturally I wanted to know the fate of my family. Due to the language barrier it was with great difficulty that I finally discovered what had occurred. The next day the clinic staff made arrangements for me to talk to my brother over a poor telephone hookup.

Mom and dad were both resting quietly with severe concussions and several fractured ribs. Our parents were unable to move. Bobby had broken his left arm above the elbow and his left leg had been severely fractured. It would be at least a week before our family could be reunited. I would have to remain alone in this hospital.

Although I was scared to be alone, I would never admit it. I put on a tough appearance and tried to be as witty and sarcastic as I could with the language barrier. This is what led to my predicament. Being a normal randy boy, I flirted and tried to impress a pretty nurse. She enjoyed my attention, but misunderstood my clumsy efforts to seduce her.

Being horny and watching the pretty girl, I grew frustrated since neither spoke the other's language. Finally I tried sign language. I pointed at her, smiled; then pointed at myself and smiled; then taking the two fingers I'd pointed with, I put them together. She watched and smiled, came and sat on my bed, and touched my face. I couldn’t understand what she said, but knew her tone was sympathetic. Encouraged, I daringly placed my one hand on her groin and squeezed gently, then with my other hand I placed her hand on my groin while I again squeezed her groin. She looked shocked, babbled something quickly, removed her hand and pointed at my groin and then hers with a questioning look on her face. I smiled, nodded yes, and hoped she'd respond to my request. She smiled forlornly, got up, kissed me on the forehead, said something in a soothing voice, and left. I sat there totally bewildered.

About an hour later a middle-aged man entered my room. He wore a lab coat and picked up my chart. After a few minutes of review, he looked puzzled. Naturally I grew concerned. The doctor took my pulse, listened to my lungs and heart, then lifted the sheets and began to examine my groin. This really frightened me and I became quite belligerent.

"Just what do you think you're doing!" I demanded. “Are you some sort of pervert?"

The doctor looked at me with an expression of concern, "You I must examine. I am Doctor Mendez, head of this clinic." the man said in halting, imprecise English. "Senorita Diaz, your nurse, told me of your request. It is unusual of a boy your age, but I specialize in that area. Even boys younger than you I have helped in this matter. You I may be able to help too."

I was confused. This man knew I wanted sex with nurse Diaz, and he specialized in that area? Was he a pimp? I wasn't sure of Mexican customs, but I had heard many strange tales. Besides, he said he’d helped boys younger than me get laid. This would be my chance to get one up on Bobby! I looked at the doctor and asked, "How much will it cost? I don't have any money with me, but I really would like to get into her panties.”

Dr. Mendez smiled, "Don't worry about the cost, your insurance will pay all the expenses. I have checked already and they will pay for any treatments I recommend. Your parents approval I must have before we start. I will call them and ask." He rose and left the room before I could try to stop him. My stunned mind whirled. Call my parents? Would I ever get it... and it wouldn’t be sex!

Two hours later, a smiling Dr. Mendez returned. "I talked to your father. He is quite groggy, but when I asked him if he would sign for your treatments, he agreed. The hospital is sending his signed permission to me. As soon as I receive it, we shall begin. In the meantime, nurse Diaz will start preliminary preparations.

Nurse Diaz entered with a cart loaded with bottles and towels. I was startled as she gently undressed me and began to shave my entire body. I started to protest, but the language barrier rose again. Besides, her gentle touch felt great! I assumed what she was doing was prepping me for some kinky sexual variation and decided to cooperate. After shaving me, she washed me, then rubbed a sweet smelling lotion over every part of my body. I thrilled to her sensual touch, and almost passed out as she carefully massaged my groin. I moaned in pleasure and anticipation. I was so relaxed I was putty in her hands so I didn’t resist as she rolled me on my side. I felt her swab my butt with cooling alcohol and before I realized what she was doing, she gave me an injection. Almost instantly I felt the drug coursing through my veins, spreading it's warmth to every part of my body. Quite quickly I grew warm, comfortable, and sleepy. Nurse Diaz was gently stoking my cheek as I smiled happily and slid into a dreamless sleep.

Slowly I awoke to the feeling of another needle being withdrawn from my buttocks. Nurse Diaz was gently urging me to slide onto a Gurney. This is it, I thought groggily and did my best to move. I grew angry at my clumsiness and then started to giggle giddily. I was quite happy as she wheeled me down the halls and into an operating theater crowded with equipment, nurses, and Dr. Mendez. My thoughts swirled. Were they all going to watch us have sex? Or was it going to be an orgy? But then why was everyone being so business like? Why were they gowned and masked? What was going on? I felt an IV needle being slid into my arm. I looked up to see Dr. Mendez open the drip on the IV

"Don't worry, many times I've done this surgery, although on one as young as you the results will be much better. On you it will go easier since you won't have to overcome any male development. When you awake, a lovely young lady you will be. Have a nice nap, my pretty princess," he said as he pushed the plunger on a needle feeding into the IV.

I was totally confused and bewildered. Had he said I’d wake up a lovely young lady? What was going on? I tried to ask what was going on and explain I didn’t want to become a girl! Unfortunately all I could do was mumble as everything go black.

In what seemed like a few seconds I began to wake up. As I tried to remember where I was and why I felt so wasted I tried to open my eyes but couldn't keep them open or even focus on anything during the short the short time I succeeded. When I tried lifting my head it would only roll about. Never had I had such a headache. My throat was dry and my chest and groin ached. I passed out and woke up at least a dozen times that I remembered before I was finally able to focus on the concerned face of nurse Diaz.

"Water... " I mumbled through my parched lips.

I received a sip and was rewarded with a gentle swabbing of my face and arms with a damp cloth. It felt nice but the pain and aching in my chest and groin throbbed on. Then I recalled Dr. Mendez's words. Terrified, I tried to check my manhood but felt only bandages. My mind felt as if it would explode and I began to cry and gurgle as panic seized me. I tried to tear off the bandages. Nurse Diaz slipped a needle into my arm, and despite my anxiety I fell back into unconsciousness.

When I awakened again, I was strapped down. Dr. Mendez was gently shaking me. "Wake up, my pretty young girl. It is time you begin to move about,” he smi1ed down into my frightened face.

"Wh... wh... what d... do y... you mean... ?" I managed to mumble, afraid of the reply I dreaded.

Dr. Mendez smiled. "I mean your wish to become a girl has come true. I am the best sex change specialist in Mexico. It will take a very thorough exam by a doctor to discover that you were not born a girl. In one as undeveloped as you, it is easy to remove all signs of masculinity and to create the essence of femininity in all respects."

I turned white and said nothing as I was helped from the bed. Nurse Diaz took my arm and walked me slowly up and down the corridors. The pain in my groin had subsided to an ache. I felt a heaviness upon my chest and the strange sensations created more discomfort in my anguished mind with each step. Finally I built up the courage to look down and was punished by seeing two small mounds protruding from my chest. The loose gown hid them from direct view, but I knew they were my new breasts. They had turned me into a girl! What would I do? How could I ever face my family and friends? My thoughts became jumbled and I started to whimper as my knees began to give out. Nurse Diaz quickly returned me to my bed as I broke into heartrending sobs.

The next few days were a horrible blur for me as I realized I was now a former boy. I was kept sedated since I burst into tears whenever I thought of my situation. I had no idea what to do. My body healed itself well, and I was recovering nicely when my family showed up.

I’m still not sure exactly what happened but apparently there was quite a scene, with the local police finally arriving to keep the peace. When the tempers settled, the adults were able to discuss the situation and reconstruct what had occurred. They all realized that everyone had misunderstood what the other party was trying to say. Under Mexican law, there was no one at fault and thus no legal recourse.

Mom, dad, and Bobby were besides my bed when I awoke. At first, I thought I was dreaming, then I realized my family was actually there. Desperately I tried to blurt out all that had happened. I explained that I really had not wanted to be a girl, but my speech quickly deteriorated into jumble of confusing sobs.

Mom hugged me as I trembled uncontrollably but was stunned to feel small, firm breasts touching her firm breasts. Once I settled down they all assured me they were aware of what happened. I had hoped my parents could fix things but I quickly learned the surgery could not be reversed. They stated we were still a family and would help each other adapt to this unexpected and unwelcomed change.

It was soon decided that dad would return home with Bobby. They felt mom's mother could keep an eye on Bob while he was in his casts recuperating. Dad would also start looking for a new home, since they'd decided it would be easier to start over in a new area with their new daughter than to explain why one son had become a daughter. They felt this would prevent anyone from teasing me as I made the difficult transition from boyhood into girlhood.

After much discussion, I reluctantly decided Jamie was to be my new name since it was close to my former name, James. Everyone began referring to me as her. I had to stay in the clinic for three weeks to insure proper healing, and mom used that time to slowly begin my transition to femininity.

Once the bandages were removed, I discovered my body had really changed and none of my salvaged male clothes fit. Mom bought new lingerie for me, her new little girl. I protested feebly about the indignity of wearing panties and bra, but quickly discovered how well they fit. Eventually I even conceded I enjoyed how nice and soft the undies felt as they gently supported my sensitive new breasts and groin.

When mom was out, I would secretly examine myself, totally bewildered by the strange but extremely pleasurable sensations I experienced as I explored my new body. As a boy, I had masturbated either alone or with her Bobby. We’d even jerked each other off a few times. We had spent many hours looking at Playboy magazines we had smuggled into our bedroom, telling each other what we’d do if we ever had a chance to be alone with the models. We also discussed which of our female classmates we'd like to enjoy. Now, suddenly, I was on the other side of the fence. I knew what boys thought of girls, and what they'd do if they had a chance. I shuddered at the thought of a boy pawing at my feminine features but at the same time couldn't resist fondling them myself. It simply felt too good to stop! I quickly discovered that a girl could masturbate and quickly began to bring myself off at every opportunity. Of course I was frightened of being caught and my mind screamed at me to stop. After each orgasm I’d break into tears and vow not to do it again, but in a few hours, I was back at it. It was tearing me apart emotionally.

Mom knew I was having serious problems adapting to my new gender. She spent much time talking to me, trying to reassure me that girls were just as sexual as boys, but had to be a lot more careful about their actions because of the risk of pregnancy. I didn't tell her that was ridiculous in my case as I could never get pregnant. She also explained to me that female hormones effected the way I thought and felt. That explained why it was much easier for me to become emotionally involved in a book or movie. I also noticed my feelings about various matters were subtlety changing. The discussions with mother made me realize my life as a girl was going to be very different from my life as a boy.

Towards the end of my recovery, I stood naked before the mirror. My breasts, which the doctor had jumped started with well placed collagen injections, were well formed and pert. My waist had slimmed considerably while my buttocks were filling out giving me nice curves. My previously muscular arms and legs had lost their angularity and firmness. They were now sleek, slim, soft and well proportioned. The biggest change was my groin, under the curly red thatch was a vagina most boys would love to get to. This made me shiver with fear and revulsion. The overall feminine appearance I presented was reinforced by my head,,, the head I'd always thought was all boy. My lightly freckled face now reflected my girlish innocence, my sparkling green eyes were set off by slightly curled bangs. The rest of my soft straight red hair was parted down the center and pulled into twin ponytails tied ribbons. I sighed as I was forced to admit I was now an undeniably pretty girl!

Even though I was intellectually able to see these changes and knew I had no choice but to accept my girlhood, my subconscious was still very much masculine. Even though my thoughts were rapidly becoming feminine, my gut reactions were still very male. I had nightmares of males being forcibly transformed into girls, usually with me as the victim.

My confusion led me to reject any clothing that was too feminine. The lingerie I wore, while made of lace trimmed nylon, was hidden from anyone's view. I absolutely refused to wear the pretty pale blue nightie my mother had gotten for me to wear in place of the hospital gown. Mom finally gave in and compromised with me on a set of nylon pajamas in light blue that had a touch of matching lace at each cuff and the neck. Once more I was amazed at how light, airy and comfortable girls’ clothing was compared to boys’ clothes.

As the time of my discharge approached, there was quite a bit of discussion about what I should wear for the flight home. Mom wanted me to wear a dress or at least a skirt, while I absolutely refused to even consider such clothes. Once more, mom capitulated but called me her spunky daughter. Of course she did demand some concessions from me. The outfit I wore consisted of a matching pink nylon bra and panty set, edged with lace and accented with embroidered roses. Pink rib knit anklets were visible below the pair of stone washed blue denim girl's jeans held in place by a pink rope belt. Tucked into the jeans was a pink knit short sleeved shirt with ribbed cuffs and collar and a button pocket. My hair was brushed into bangs over my forehead, the balance parted down the top center and gathered into matching braids on either side which were tied off with pieces of narrower pink rope to match my belt.

Looking at myself in the mirror my overall image was that of a pretty young girl, her budding breasts teasingly outlined by her pink shirt. A girl reluctantly but relentlessly leaving her childhood behind, no longer able to maintain her tomboyishness. Mom was satisfied with my femininity, while I shuddered slightly to see I appeared unmistakably to be a girl. When the time finally arrived for us to leave, I was petrified. I hadn't been off the hospital grounds yet. Mom put her arm comfortingly about my trembling shoulders and assured me she was proud of her pretty daughter. During the taxi ride to the airport, I began to relax as my mother assured me the driver had never suspected that I was anything other than the pretty young girl I appeared to be. The wait at the terminal, the boarding of the plane, and the flight home were quite frightening and unnerving for me. Several boys, and a few men, openly admired my perky girly appearance.

The three week separation of our family ended in a warm reunion in the airport terminal upon the safe arrival of the plane. Bobby was on crutches and getting around quite well. Dad gave mom a warm hug while Bobby and I stared sullenly at each other until I quickly dropped my eyes.

Latter Bobby told me this had irritated him since we had always tried to out macho the other by attempting to stare down the other. By giving up almost immediately, my submission did more than anything else to drive home to him that his twin brother James was truly gone.

We both realized at our reunion that the lifelong rivalry and companionship we had shared was over. Looking his new sister over, Bobby smiled uneasily at me. “You’re really pretty,” he mumbled as he fidgeted uneasily.

I’d kept my eyes lowered and noted Bobby started getting a boner. My eyes grew wide and my mouth dropped opened as I looked up into his lusting eyes. Almost instantly Bobby turned white and his erection immediately vanished. He swallowed uncertainly as looked me over and took in all the feminine details of his cute new sister. Shivering slightly, he guiltily looked away. I could tell his thoughts were riotous. We had always thought of themselves as real men, strong, bold, and unafraid. My ability to read his thought hadn’t vanished with my change. Now he was assailed by doubt, was he really a man? Since were identical twins, if I had been converted in four short weeks into such a pretty girl the same thing had to be true about him! I knew he wondered how he could think of himself as a male when he saw how feminine his identical twin had become? Bobby quickly withdrew into an introspective shell, attempting to stabilize his masculinity by ignoring my obvious femininity.

Meanwhile dad released mom and turned towards me, his bashful daughter. Placing his strong hands upon my shoulders, he looked at me. Anxiously I raised my lowered eyes sheepishly to glance into my father's warm face. I smiled hesitantly when I saw his caring smile. Dad slipped his arms about me as he gently pulled me to him into an affectionate fatherly embrace. I felt myself blush as my body snuggled itself into the firm body of my father. It did this without my really being aware it had happened until it was accomplished. My stubborn male ego protested loudly in my mind but the security I derived from that warm, loving embrace made me snuggle closer. Tears of frustration and confusion slowly trickled down my rosy cheeks. I quietly acknowledged that I must indeed be a real girl to react like this to a hug. My male ego was slowly losing ground to the relentless onslaught of the female hormones, the soft pretty clothes, and my new life as a girl. Just as Bobby had realized things were to be different during this reunion, I realized I had become a girl and decided to start trying to behave like a girl should.

The ride home was a time of contemplation for the entire family. Dad was satisfied with my apparent acceptance of my girlhood. Mom was delighted to have the pretty daughter she'd always wanted, and was trying to decide how to make up the time she'd lost by not having one. Bobby was angry. He sat looking out the window fuming because I proved how fragile his masculinity was. He fina1ly determined to be "All Male", to prove he wasn't a wimp. I knew what he was thinking but couldn’t do anything to ease his concerns as I had too much on my plate handling my own issues. I sat and quietly began to review how my hobbies and habits would have to change to accommodate my girlhood. Our reunion had driven home the fact I couldn't fight the transformation which had already physically occurred, now I'd have to mentally adapt to my femininity. Unknowingly, a smile of satisfaction crept onto my lovely face.

We arrived home after dark and quietly parked in the garage. Everyone was tired from the trip and reunion, and we decided to go to bed early so we could go visit the new house dad had located. I felt uneasy heading into the guest room. Bobby still had the bedroom we'd shared for as long as we could remember. But it was most definitely a boy's bedroom and I no longer had a place there.

Arising early, I nervously pulled on the second outfit mother had gotten for me. After my pink nylon lace edged panty and bra set were on, I slid the yellow mid-thigh length shorts onto my rounded bottom. They fit snugly and accentuated my curvy derriere. A white sleeveless top with a silk screened adorable kitten adorning the front clung to my torso revealing my budding breasts. The pink accented sneakers once more served as my footwear. I emerged from my room to hear Bobby muttering angrily in his room. Knocking gently, I waited until Bobby said to come in. Entering, I saw my brother sitting on his bed struggling to get his shirt on. The cast on his arm was quite an obstacle.

I went over to help, but Bobby snapped angrily at me. "I can do it myself! I don't need any stupid girl to help me get dressed! Just leave me alone!” he said huffily as he turned his back toward me.

I stood there with my arms stretched out to help, stunned into immobility by the unexpected outburst. In wide-eyed surprise and with my lips trembling, I stammered, "I... I... I was just... What difference does my being a girl make? You're still my brother. I can help."

"Get out!" Bobby shouted, "Just leave me alone!"

I turned and quickly fled the room with tears flowing down my cheeks. I bumped into my Dad in the hall, he'd been on his way to see what the commotion was all about. He caught me and saw the tears and anguish on my face. I twisted from his grasp and fled into the guest room as the tears erupted into sobs. Dad hesitated, unsure whether to follow me or not, then entered Bobby’s room. I was angry that Bobby had been so nasty to me and knew dad would let him have it so I stifled my sobs and crept out of the guest room to peek in my old bedroom.

Bobby still had his back to the door and thought I had reentered. He started rapidly spewing venom. "I told you to get out, you stupid bitch!" His face lost all color as he saw it was our father. Bobby realized immediately he was in deep trouble by the hard expression etched into Dad's face.

Before Bobby could do more than stare open mouthed, Dad slapped the shocked boy across the face with enough force to topple him backward onto the bed. I was stunned. Dad had never hit us like that. Sure, we'd been spanked, but never in anger. Dad instantly knew he shouldn't have slapped Bobby, but it was too late. Having heard Bobby's outburst, mom brushed past me to enter the room.

"I think we better all sit down and talk this entire situation out, NOW!" she said quietly. "Jamie, please come in here." She waited patiently as I meekly crept in doing my best to stifle my sobs.

Bobby sat up on his bed looking at the floor. "Bobby, I want to know what's going on. Why were you yelling at Jamie?" mom quietly asked.

After an awkward silence during which he hoped we would leave, Bobby finally looked up into the faces of his family. Bobby stared angrily at me, to the point where I stepped over to my father. Realizing why I was scared, Dad put his arms about my trembling body, then he looked at Bobby and understood what was wrong.

"You're afraid of Jamie, aren't you?" dad asked with a hint of amazement. "The two of you were always so much alike, you enjoyed the competition and comradeship of being the same. You were best buddies. Now suddenly you see how feminine Jamie is, and it's shaken your self assurance in your manhood. You're afraid you could become a girl just as easily, so you want nothing to do with Jamie to protect your masculinity."

"Bobby", I began softly. "Dad's right. I still know you, and we still are a lot alike. What's happened to me has not been easy for me to accept. It's hard to explain, but the only way I've been able to deal with this is because of how I've changed. The way I feel now is totally different. The female hormones are making the changes in my body and my mind. If my mind had anything to do with it, I'd be crazy by now. I want to hate being a girl, and I did at first. But as my body changed into a girl's, my mind was changed too. It's still hard to accept, but I know I have no choice but to do so. Just because I've changed, you don't have to. I need you to do all those things we talked about and planned. I certainly can't do them anymore. We have to adjust, I'm not trying to make you become a girl. We have to go our own ways now instead of later."

Bobby looked at me, he’d listened to my gentle plea. "You really are different. James would've never admitted anything like that.” Then looking at our parents, he asked, "Is she right about those hormones? Did they effect her mind?"

Before mom could reply, dad laughed. "They certainly do. Why do you think men and women look at things so differently? They can do the same things and have the same experiences as men, but always see what happened from a radically different perspective. Men can never understand how a woman thinks. You know that from living with your mother."

Mom gave a piercing look at dad, then laughed too. "I think your father is right, hormones do have a lot to do with things. Once your male hormones kick in fully, you'll change too, your voice, a beard, muscles, the works. Then you'll know you’re a man."

Bobby took all this in, then looked again at me, "I'm sorry for what I said, but it is hard to accept you're not my mirror image anymore. I’m so used to seeing myself when I look at you, it's hard not to do that now."

I walked to my brother and after giving him a hug, helped him put on his shirt, then knelt to put his sneakers on his feet. Standing up, I handed him his crutches. As a family we went to breakfast. After eating, everyone got into the car.

It was a fifteen minute drive to the isolated house dad had found. The driveway wound through a wall of pine trees which screened the house from the road. Once past this barrier, you could see the house was an old Victorian building with a full wrap around porch. The rounded turret in the western corner was capped by a round pointed cone covered in copper, the rest of the roof was slate. The stone walls were eighteen inches thick and the windows all had nice wide sills inside. The two and half story structure was surrounded by graceful weeping willows. To the rear was a carriage house made in the same style as the house, only one and half stories high, and it had been converted to a two car garage and bath house for the 20 by 40 foot in-ground swimming pool. The pool was the center piece of the back yard patio.

Inside, the living room was quite large with a nice fireplace. To the left of the entry was an old-time parlor which had been converted into a study/library. The dining room was located behind the parlor, with a large kitchen behind the living room. A pantry, laundry room and a powder room were in the rear. The wide staircase left the foyer and went to a wide hall upstairs. There originally were four bedrooms and one bath but the back two bedrooms had been converted into a master bedroom suite with it's own bath which mom and dad naturally took for themselves. In the front corner bedroom below the rounded turret, mom was thrilled to see the room was bright and papered with pink flowers above the dark stained wainscoting. The rounded area beneath the turret with it's thick sills would make a lovely sitting area.

Mom pictured it with white wicker furnishing surrounding a full sized canopy bed. This was to be my new bedroom. It was meant for a girl. Mom quickly informed everyone that this was to be my room, and they would go that afternoon to get the proper furniture. I felt a tremor of excitement pass through my body as I imagined my mother's description. I felt guilty for being so anxious about such a feminine room.

Bobby took the other front bedroom and our rooms shared a bath. Mom and dad took the master bedroom located behind Jamie's room. The whole family had fallen in love with the house. It's old style charm coupled with the modern amenities was ideal. The location itself was isolated, yet within ten minutes of major shopping areas.

After stopping for lunch, we went to a furniture store to select new furnishings for my bedroom. Bobby and dad sat in lounge chairs while mom and I shopped. I was overwhelmed by the choices available to me for my new bedroom. In the end I simply voiced my opinion in response to my mother's prompting, agreeing to a white wicker bedroom suit. I wanted a regular bed while mom wanted a canopy bed. We finally settled on a four poster bed.

The next two weeks went by quickly as our family prepared for the move. Friends and neighbors were told of the move, and Bobby handled all inquiries from our buddies about James, telling them he was bedridden and needed quiet and rest. I was deathly afraid the guys would want to see me, but with Bobby still in casts they never stayed too long. I helped Bobby dress and undress, but for the most part we avoided each other. Neither of us were comfortable with the changes and missed our identical twinness. During this time, my girlish wardrobe slowly grew, jeans slacks, and shorts, but still no skirts or dresses. I wasn't ready for that yet.

Moving day was hectic. At our new home I helped Bobby place his clothes and toys in his new room. As I put his things in the dresser I found myself recoiling from the jockey shorts and other male clothes, repelled by their coarseness. I marveled at how I resisted giving up these horrid clothes. There was no way I ever wanted to wear those yucky things now. I was glad my new clothes were soft and silky. After I finished helping Bobby, I went back to my bedroom. Sitting in my wicker lounge nestled in the turret, I surveyed my bedroom. Once more I felt that twinge of guilt for rejecting a masculine life. The four poster bed had it's headboard against the wall separating my room from the hall. The soft, fluffy white and pink floral printed quilt and pillows matched the tasseled bed skirt. Matching white wicker night stands flanked the bed, with identical white lamps with pink shades resting on each. A pink clock/radio/CD player/alarm sat on the right stand while a box of pink designer printed tissues rested on the left. The wicker dresser sat beside the closet doors in the wall towards my parents room. My dressing table with it's large mirror sat on the other side of the closet next to one window. The top had a large jewelry box (still fairly empty) and several small bottles of perfume, nail polish, and lipstick.

The northwest exterior wall had two windows, and a wicker bookcase sat between them. It held my stereo system in addition to my books and the teen girl magazines mom had insisted on buying for me. They actually were interesting, but I wasn't about to tell that to mom, at least I was getting a perspective of what girls liked and how they thought.

The southwest wall also had two windows, and my wicker desk sat between these. I smiled ruefully to myself, it was a room any girl would be proud of, and it was all mine. When I felt the now familiar guilt pang for betraying my boyhood, I giggled. When, I wondered, would my subconscious accept my femininity? Quickly I prepared for bed by slipping into a short, lace covered pink baby doll nightie. Gently I fondled my perky breasts as I slowly drifted off to sleep in my new girlish bedroom.

The next week was hectic as our family settled into to our new abode. Bobby and I continued to avoid each other. School was fast approaching, finally Bobby's casts came off and he was finally able to use the pool. I had not used it either so as not to upset Bobby. The truth was that I was afraid to wear the swimsuit my mother had gotten me. It was just too feminine for me. Now that I couldn't use Bobby as an excuse, I hesitated in the bathhouse, listening to my mother and Bobby splashing in the water. The radio was tuned to an oldies station, and I blushed furiously as I listened to "An Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini".

Just as the song ended, Bobby poked his head in and asked what was taking so long. One look at my red face told him the trouble. "Jamie, you look fine, the suit fits you great. Come on,” he said walking up to me and taking my hand. Leading me to the pool, he let go of my hand and jumped in. I stood there and looked down at myself once more. I wore a pink one piece suit. The neck opened moderately in the front to reveal a tempting view of my firm young breasts. The neckline scooped to my waist in the rear, and clung to me like a second skin. The bottom of the suit was hidden by a built-in saucy ruffled skirt which just barely covered my crotch. Swallowing back my anxiety, I drove in the water.

The water was warm and relaxing. The release of being in the inviting water soon had Bobby and I laughing and playing. Mom smiled as she watched her offspring frolic in the water. Bobby tired quickly, and the three of us were soon lying on the lounges, covered in tanning oil, soaking up the warm sun. Dad startled us by doing a cannonball into the pool when he arrived home. A barbecue ended the pleasant day.

School... the thought sent chills through me. I'd meet and have to make friends with real girls. The idea terrified me, what if they could tell I wasn't a real girl? I almost made myself ill with worry. Mom took this opportunity to convince me it was time to wear a dress or skirt. "By wearing a dress, no one would doubt you're a girl. You know you look like a girl, and you're starting to act naturally feminine. If anyone questions you, simply tell them you were the only girl in an all boy neighborhood, and so were a tomboy to be with your brother. They'll accept that."

In the stores, I shyly undressed and allowed slips, dresses and skirts to be slid onto my shivering body. My mind rebelled once more, a skirt was the last line of resistance, my subconscious guilt fought doggedly. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I would've broken and fled if my mother hadn't been with me constantly soothing my jittery nerves and drying my tears, reassuring me about my girlhood. Finally, several skirts, blouses, slips and dresses were chosen. Pantyhose, tights, knee socks and lacy anklets were bought. Shoes, low and medium heeled, slip on and buckled, were purchased to replace the sneakers I'd worn all summer. New ribbons and hair clips, new nail polish, lipstick, perfume, and necklaces were bought. The final commitment to my girlhood came as I sat nervously as my ears were pierced. I was surprised it went so easily, only feeling a tiny prick as each was done. Weakly I smiled when I saw the tiny gold balls adorning my cute lobes. The wash and trim at the beauty shop was easy. I was very relieved when the long day of shopping came to a close, and delighted no one had seemed to suspect I was anything but a young girl.

On the first day of school, I was up early. After a relaxing shower, I wrapped my wet hair in a towel as I powdered my soft, pink body. Slipping on a lace edged pink nylon panty, bra, and matching slip, I slid a pair of sheer pantyhose up my smooth legs. For several moments I sat caressing my silken legs, luxuriating in the sensuousness of my shapely legs. Next I took a pair of pink lace topped anklets and slipped them onto my stocking covered feet. I couldn’t help but giggle as I extended my legs and wiggled my pink clad toes. Removing the towel, I brushed and dried my long silky straight red hair, which now reached my shoulder blades. Leaving my silky locks free, I stepped into a blue denim mini-skirt. I wiggled it over my hips and zipped it snugly about my shapely hips. Satisfied with the fit, I picked up the pink bulky knit sweater and slipped it over my head. It was snug enough to reveal my budding breasts, but not to hug them. Looking in the mirror, I pulled her hair from the confines of the sweater, letting it cascade down my shoulders. Brushing it again, I made sure my bangs were hanging evenly above my eyes, covering my forehead. Gathering the rest of my luxurious hair, I pulled it back into a single ponytail, securing it in place with a large pink ribbon I formed into a bow.

Going to the dressing table, I seated myself and carefully polished my nails with a pink gloss. Once dried, I applied a matching pink lip gloss to my pouty lips. Gold earrings fashioned into cute bears were put into my ears, and a matching necklace draped about my lovely neck. Looking myself over, I sprayed myself lightly with Love's Baby Soft perfume. Satisfied, I went to the full length mirror hanging on the inside of my closet door. Looking myself over critically, I observed a nervous, wide-eyed young girl, her lovely face framed by the red halo of her silky hair. The pink anklets accentuated her smooth, silky legs, which disappeared at mid-thigh into a snug denim mini-skirt molded to the curves of her developing body. The bulky pink sweater showed her femininity while concealing it. I saw a perky young teenage girl, very soft, feminine, and innocent. Swallowing my nervousness, I smiled at the girl, and picked up a pair of one and half inch heeled T-strap white shoes which I slipped onto my dainty pink feet and buckled securely. Picking up the matching white purse and slinging it over my shoulder, I glanced at the pretty girl in the mirror, smiled at her, winked and headed confidently to breakfast.

Bobby was already eating when I entered. Looking up, Bobby sat there with a mouth full of half chewed food. He was totally unprepared for the attractive creature who entered the room.

Mom saw her daughter and came over for a hug. "You look simply marvelous, Jamie," she said enthusiastically. "No one would guess you were ever a tomboy. What do you think, Bobby? Isn't your sister lovely?”

Bobby swallowed the food in his mouth, almost choked, then said, "I'll say she's pretty. I'm almost sad you’re my sister. I'd like to have a girl friend who looks as good as you do! Jamie, you're a knockout!"

Smiling sweetly, I spun in a circle and said, "Thank you, I feel as good as I look! Mom, you were right. Wearing pretty clothes is so much nicer than those yucky clothes Bobby wears. I'm glad I can wear these now. I just feel warm and soft all over. The feel of my pantyhose, lingerie and shirts, all rubbing me at the same time is great!" I sat down slowly, carefully adjusting my skirt to attempt a token of demureness in the short skirt.

Bobby lowered his head and concentrated on his breakfast. I could tell my exclaimation of delight in my girlishness bothered him. I think he was a bit jealous that I enjoyed being a girl and he couldn't share that with me.

Arriving at the school, mom took her twins into the offices. Our first day in junior high and in a new school district, was quite an experience. We had most of the same classes, and Bobby discovered he had a lot of guys talking to him, only to be disappointed when they all began grilling him about me. They were interested in me, not him. I could feel him looking at me again and again, and the envy he'd felt at breakfast repeatedly raised it's ugly head. I knew he became angry with himself and there was nothing I could do to help him so I tried to think of other things.

Over the next few days I rapidly adjusted to my girlhood. I was always careful about what I wore, how I moved, and what I said. The boys were all fascinated by me. I was a pretty, soft girl they loved to be near, and I knew about sports and boy’s feelings. I quickly learned to play the boys well, awkwardly at first, but smoothly after a little practice. I was able to make them feel good about themselves, and guilty about what they wanted to do to me. I easily kept them close, but never let them touch. I'd become an efficient flirt, and loved it. I made several girlfriends too, not with the IT girls, but with girls who simply enjoyed being girls. Now that I'm confident about being a girl, I need to see what I can do to help Bobby.

*************
Our English teacher asked us to write a story about what we did on our summer vacation... so cliche... and this was it. Can you imagine she thought my story was fiction? She only gave me a 'C'!



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