My Own Making By Rachael Platt Rachael.Platt@Hotmail.com
***************************************************************************** ** As with all my stories, everyone is granted license to copy, change and ** resubmit this story as they see fit. ****************************************************************************
At the ripe old age of six I knew I should have been born a girl. I enjoyed playing dress up with my cousin's dolls. I always asked to be a fairy or princess for Halloween. I liked clothes and pink and frilly lace. I like being girly.
But now I'm 12 and I'm growing fast. Daddy said I've started puberty and I'm "growing into a fine young man." But I don't want to be a man. I want to be a girl.
I'm desperate to stop this. I consider cutting off my penis. But the thought of the pain and blood stops me. Not knowing what to do I turn to Internet chat rooms. I find others who have similar feelings and I get a barrage of advice.
I signed in as Jerry9501 and start a private chat. My two "closest" friends join.
Jerry9501: i need help!
Jerry9501: i don't want to grow up
Sisboy38: everyone grows up
Jerry9501: i want to be a girl
MaryJane: u have to tell ur mom
MaryJane: make her understand
Sisboy38: they need to start you on hormones.
MaryJane: doctors won't give hormones until U R 18
Sisboy38: then get your own
Jerry9501: how? where?
Sisboy38: vitamin shop -- get breast grow pills
MaryJane: pills won't stop male development
Sisboy38: no
Jerry9501: how do i stop growing into a man?
Sisboy38: anti-androgens
MaryJane: dangerous
Sisboy38: doctors use them
MaryJane: but doctors monitor blood pressure and all that
MaryJane: and only doctor can prescribe!
MaryJane: and blood clots can kill
Jerry9501: what else can i do?
Sisboy38: chances of trouble are no different than for any girl
They argue for a while but the seed is planted. I get my money stash -- all $80.27 and head over to the mall. It only takes me a few minutes to find a health food store. I search but find nothing for breast growth. I try another store: vitamins. They have so many choices I don't know which to choose. I try comparing but end up just grabbing a bottle. I mill around the store for a few minutes trying to find something else to hide my purchase. I end up with a coke.
The clerk looks at me for a scant second then rings up my order: $27.30. I pay and walk relieved out to my bike.
I take the dose recommended on the bottle every day. After a month I return and buy two more bottles. After a second month nothing has changed so I decide to double the dosage.
After two months and three weeks I can finally say I see a difference. Though only sight, my nipples are a little more sensitive and the rough patches on my elbows seems to have faded. I feel elated and want the changes to accelerate. I have no thoughts about consequences or, for that matter, what to do when the changes start to become noticeable. And with that I start taking a triple dose.
After a few weeks on the triple dose I start feeling sick. At first I think I have the flu. But after four days with a high fever mom takes me to a doctor. The nurse takes my temperature -- 103, my weight -- 92 pounds and my height -- 63 inches. The doctor examines my eyes and ears, has me cough while listening to my chest and back. Then comes the embarrassing check. She has me strip and holds my balls and asks me to cough again. Meanwhile the cool air is making my nipples ache. She nods with the last cough and stands. She tells me to dress and that I have the flu. It can last up to a week, sometimes more.
Back home I resume my vitamins and sure enough, a few days later my flu clears up.
Every day I take a triple dose and by the end of month three my boobies are definitely puffy and enlarged. I love the results. But now I'm noticing something else: hair. The hair on my arms and legs is starting to get darker and thicker. I go back to my Internet friends. They tell me that the increased estrogen is forcing my body to increase my testosterone. I may get big hips and big boobs, but I'll also be hairy and my voice will change.
I have to take the next step: anti-androgens. It's tricky because I need a credit card to purchase them online. I sneak into mom's purse and borrow the credit card I know she likes to use frequently. I'm hoping she doesn't notice the extra charge.
Getting the card was easy. Putting it back is a little harder. I very carefully open her enormous wallet and flip through all the pockets and pages trying to remember where I got the card from in the first place. I put it where I think it goes and return to my room.
Four to six weeks. Four to six weeks. I'm so nervous and jittery the first week that Stephanie starts asking why. I tell her I'm expecting a special package but don't know what it is.
Another month of triple dose and my boobies are starting to get hard to hide. It's been four weeks and I'm starting to get jittery again. My package should arrive any day.
I head over to Stephanie's house to play and forget to wrap myself so I don't bounce.
And that's when she notices. I lean over to "pour" tea for Mr. Froggie and she gets a view down my shirt. Then when I sit my chest bounces a bit. I feel the bounce and hope she doesn't notice. But, of course, her eyes are plastered to my chest.
"Jerry, is there something wrong with your chest? You look like you have boobies."
I'm embarrassed and mortified. "No, it's, uh, nothing."
"No, I can see it now." She persists. "You have boobies. Can I see?"
"You want me to lift up my shirt?"
Now she's excited. "Yeah! I want to see your boobies!"
"But it's really nothing."
"Come on. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
I'm not really interested in her beyond playing games, but the chance to compare is very compelling. "Ok, you first."
She blushes, but lifts her shirt up to reveal a training bra encasing big breasts. Well, you might call them cute, fleshy lumps but for me anything more than flat is huge.
She pulls her shirt back down. "Your turn."
I blush and pull up my shirt only to hear her gasp. "Jerry! Yours are bigger than mine! Why aren't you wearing a bra?"
"Well, I'm supposed to be a boy. I don't have any bras."
"You really should think about getting some. It helps with the itching and soreness. And it keeps you from bouncing so much."
"Well, can I --" I let the question hang hoping she gets the idea.
"Say, would you like to try on one of my bras?"
I just smile. She runs over to a dresser and pulls out a long complicated beige object and hands it to me.
"What do I do?" I turn it and notice the shoulder straps.
"First you need to take off your shirt." I comply.
"Now put your arms through the straps and grab the ends." She says to my boobs.
This takes a little more work.
"Now pull the ends around your back and clasp them."
I try for a minute but can't get the ends to hook together. Stephanie helps me out. The bra feels strange -- constrictive but not tight.
"Ok, now you need to adjust your boobs. Go like this." She pulls her shirt up, leans over a bit and puts a hand down the side of each boob and pulls it up. I stand and do the same. The result is much better. My boobs stick out a lot more but feel very nice encased in soft fabric. I let my shirt fall back down.
Again I notice Stephanie staring at me. "What?"
"They look nice, but your boy clothes don't really match. Want to play dress-up?"
I look over at a mirror and see how my shirt is pushed out in a rather female way. I smile again. This is fun!
She has me take off all my clothes except the bra. I then dress in panties that match my bra. I like it already! Stephanie has me pull the panties up tight to my crotch which puts them much higher than I'm used to wearing underwear. But it works to my advantage since I have to tuck my pee-pee down to give me that flat look.
"Is it normal for girl's clothes to be so high up?"
"Well girls clothes usually ride up over their hips. It shows off your curves better." She absently replies. I realize I have a lot to learn about being a girl.
Stephanie holds up two outfits. The first is a yellow sun dress with white polka dots. The second is a pink top with white trim and light green miniskirt. I think for a moment. "I like the miniskirt but I think I'll try the dress this time."
Now for the silk half-slip. I pull it up my legs and over my "hips". Stephanie giggles and adjusts it to match the top of my panties.
"Why do I need this?" I'm excited and inquisitive.
"If you stand in the light boys can see through your dress. This makes it so that doesn't happen. And the silk feels nice on your legs."
Stephanie starts to hand me the dress then stops. "You're going to need makeup." She half asks, half states.
"I am?" My heart skips a beat.
We move over to her dressing table. She has me sit with my back to the mirror while she grabs items and applies them. First: tweezers to pluck my eyebrows.
"Ouch! Hey, that hurt!"
"My mom says beauty is painful. You'll get used to it."
"Ouch!"
"I barely feel it myself. It's just natural."
"Ouch! If you -- ouch! -- say so."
After a few more pulls the pain does start to lessen and a few pulls later she stops.
"There we go. We don't want to over-do it. You still need to look like a boy tomorrow."
"I guess." Was my half-hearted response. I think she like it because she gave one last pull. This time I only cringed.
"We need to start with night cream. Take some of this and wipe it all over your face. That will make it easier to remove the makeup later."
I take a small dollop and she giggles again. "Use a lot more than that. You want a layer on your face. That little will barely moisturize." I take a handful.
"Ok, that might be too much. Here." She removes about half and puts it back. "Try that." I smear the goo all over my face. "Good. Keep going. Rub it in. Don't forget your eyelids and lips."
"Now we put on foundation. This will give your skin a smooth, even look and make it easier to add makeup." She pulls out a soft pad with skin-colored stuff on it and begins wiping it all over my face.
"There we are. Now we use powder to set the foundation." She pulls out a big brush, rubs it around and taps it on the side of a container. The long, smooth strokes are applied across my face.
"Ok. Let's add eye brows." She holds a color pencil to my forehead and I feel her drawing on my face.
"And eye liner. Close your eyes, please." I comply and feel something pressing on my eye lids.
"What color should we use on your eyes? I have green, blue, grey and pink."
"My eyes are green, right?"
She looks. "Yes."
"Then let's use green"
She pulls out a small brush and, while my eyes are closed again, brushes from my nose out to my temples.
"Oh, that worked very nicely. Mascara. No -- keep your eyes closed." This time I feel something tugging on my lashes. She works one eye then the other. I start to open them and she stops me. "I'm not done yet, silly. I still need to put on two more coats." I close my eyes again and she goes to work.
"Ok, you can open your eyes." She stares at me for a minute. "Hold still and look up." She brushes more on my lower lashes. "There we are."
"You need blusher." She holds up another big brush and swirls it around my cheeks.
"Cute as a button." She states. "We just need to get your lips and we're done."
"Then can I see myself?" I ask impatiently.
She giggles. "Sure!"
She pulls out another pencil and draws around my lips. She has me pucker my lips a few times to get it right. Then she pulls out red lipstick and applies it all over my lips. When I think she's done I start to turn but she stops me.
"Not yet. You need to smear the lipstick around your lips like this." She brings her lips together and rubs them back a forth a few times. I do the same, noticing the waxy feel.
"I would prefer it if you had long hair but we'll do what we can with what you have."
A few swipes with a brush and a blast of hair spray and she declares herself done.
And still she won't let me see myself. "You need to put the dress on first. But be careful not to rub your makeup off on your dress.
I carefully pull the dress down over my head and Stephanie zips it up in the back. I feel it grow tight around my midsection and loosen at my hips and bust. But the extra material adds to the lift and shape of my boobies. I feel them more now than ever.
"Ok. Let's move over to the full length mirror. You need to see this." Stephanie proudly announces. On the short walk over she hands me a pair of yellow pumps. I put them on and wobble over to the mirror.
I am shocked. The girl on the other side is amazingly beautiful.
"You know Jerry can be a girl's name. It's J-"
"J-e-r-i" I interject. "I know but I like Jenny more."
"You sound like you've spent time to pick out that name."
"Well, I've wanted it for a long time." I blurt before thinking.
"You mean you actually want to be a girl?"
Did I say that? I guess my secret is out. But I trust Stephanie.
"Well, yeah, kinda. But please don't tell anybody."
"Well, Jenny, I do believe Mr. Froggie needs his tea."
Two days later my special box arrives with a three month supply of anti-boy. I quickly dispose of the packaging and add the bottle to my secret stash. The directions say to take one tablet daily. I take two but plan on following the directions. If I take two a day I will need to order another supply within a few days to stay on them.
I run over to Stephanie's house to play dress-up and then play with her babies. This time I wear the pink top and green miniskirt but I largely forgo the makeup. Stephanie suggests I at least put on lipstick and mascara. And this time I get to do it. I start with lipstick and notice all the pretty colors and shapes of makeup on her dressing table. An hour later I've got brows, eye liner, eye shadow, mascara and lipstick put on. And I did a reasonable job of it, too.
"What did you say about blush?" I ask while wiping a grey eye shadow to my eyes.
"It adds definition to your cheeks." She responds from the tea table.
"And I should use two colors on my eyes?"
"Yes. With one eye closed, apply a color to your eye lid. Then apply another color to your eyes."
I practice with eye shadow for another ten to fifteen minutes before Stephanie practically demands I stop and take a baby doll for mommy time.
Once suitably dressed we both select a baby and practice taking care of them, chatting about feeding and diaper changing and how our husbands are great men. That's when I realize that I do want a husband. I do really want to be a wife and mother.
We sit down for tea and Stephanie scolds me for having my legs open. "Any man can see your panties and that's very bad. Try crossing one leg over the other."
"Like this?" I pull my knees together and cross my ankles.
"That works, but try it this way." She says while placing one leg over the other. "It's easier to hold this position."
I try it and have to agree. Almost instinctively I smooth out my skirt.
"Say, let's take our babies out for a walk!" She suggests.
"Well, I don't want to change back yet." I protest.
"Why change? There's no way anyone would mistake you as a boy. And if they ask you can be Jenny, my cousin from Colorado."
Since my parent's will be out for at least another hour I reluctantly agree.
I put on a pair of low heal sandals, pack the babies into their strollers and head out for the park. We have a blast but I'm constantly reminded by the skirt that I have to watch how I sit and dare not use the slide or jungle gym. Even running can be a bit daunting.
Days turn to weeks. I take my three girl pills along with my anti-boy pill every day. After two weeks I even get the courage to order another 3-month supply with my mom's credit card. It was necessary since I found myself taking a double dose more often than not.
Stephanie and I get along great. We have lots of fun playing dress up together. Some days I'm the bride some days she's the bride. Some days we're in a double wedding. Most days we work with our babies and talk about our perfect husbands.
One month after starting my anti-boy pills Stephanie talks me into going swimming as Jenny.
By now my boobies are noticeably bigger. I have to wrap them in an ace bandage every morning to wear any boy clothes. But the best part is my hairy arms and legs stopped getting hairier and even lightened a bit. Despite my mom's threats I refuse to cut my hair and it's long enough to add a little girly style.
Anyway, Stephanie hands me a two-piece swim suit and suggests we go swim a few laps. It takes her another hour to finally convince me I can pull it off but I want to wear a one-piece suit. She has me put on the two-piece first, just to show me how it looks. I didn't realize just how big my boobies were getting until she had me stand in front of the mirror. I look positively womanly! I like the look but I feel naked with so little fabric plus my little boy parts don't want to cooperate with the panty. Still I manage two sizable bumps in the bra.
When I ask, Stephanie says I'm a full A' cup. An A' cup in three months. I wonder just how big my boobies will get? Stephanie has an answer for that as well.
"How big is your mommy?"
"Well her bra says 34-C."
"So if you continue to develop like a normal girl you'll end up 34-C or something close to it."
The rest of the day I felt just dreamy. Me with 34-C boobies. I wonder if I'll get big hips, too?
I walk into my room and it's completely different. The bed has fluffy blankets and stuffed toys scattered about. The walks have pictures of boy bands. On the far wall sits a makeup table that looks a lot like the one Stephanie has. I turn and in the closet -- my closet are dresses and blouses and skirt and lots of shoes. Before I know it I'm dressed in a beautiful gown with perfect makeup and long flowing hair. My nails are long with a French manicure. Even my toe nails are trimmed and painted. My room door opens and I see the shape of a boy -- the boy taking me to a school dance. I know it. I'm going to marry him some day. I just know it. It'll be the perfect marriage. We'll have three kids.
A hand grabs my leg and yanks me from this wonderful dream.
"Jerry, wake up son."
It's just dad getting us ready for school. Damn. Time to become Jerry once again.
"Wake up Tony. Time to get up." He says to my brother.
Thankfully I like to sleep on my stomach. It allows me to hide my breasts in the morning when mom or dad comes to wake us.
And then it happens.
"Jerry, sit up please. Tony. I have some news." I can't tell if there's trouble or not but I can't sit up or I'll stick out. I roll onto my side making sure the blankets continue to cover me.
"Jerry, sit up please." Oh, man. I can't get caught now. Not after eight months!
"Dad, I'm fine." I complain, hoping he accepts that as enough.
He sighs his disapproval but continues. "It seems that my job is going very well. I've been promoted to Senior Accounts Manager."
"Congrats, dad!" Tony states, standing up.
"Yeah, nice."
"Now for the good news. My new position opens in two months so we're going on a six-week cruise to the Bahamas!"
"We are?" I blink. The news is both horrifying and wonderful.
Tony jumps up and yells, "Woo hoo!"
"Jerry, what do you think, son?" Dad almost looks concerned.
"Well, I think that's great." I say with little enthusiasm.
"It'll be fun. Come on, give your dad a hug just for the promotion at least!"
"Dad, I can't." This is going wrong. I need to find a way to get away, change the subject, something. Anything!
"Why not? Getting too old to give hugs?"
That sounds plausible. "Dad, I'm thirteen." It's the standard line and it usually works.
He doesn't buy it. He sees my fear.
"What's wrong?"
Tony stops jumping. "He's been acting all weird lately."
Dad feels my forehead as if that helps. Then he gets serious. "Jerry stand up."
"Do I have to?" Now I'm really worried. I'm a dead woman.
"Yes, you have to."
"But, Dad..." If I protest enough he might cave.
"I won't hear it. Now, mister." His tone is getting more serious which means: one, there's no escape; and two, I'm dead.
I have one last hope for some secrecy and privacy. "Can we be alone for a minute?"
"Tony, give your brother and I a few minutes."
"Ah, Dad!" Tony complains.
"Now." Dad says sternly.
"Stupid brother." Tony mutters as he walks out.
"Door." Dad calls after him.
Tony closes the door, sticking his tongue at me as he does.
"I guess there's something I need to tell you and mom but, well, I'm scared." I start.
"It's alright. Whatever it is we'll work it out." Dad says deep concern now showing in his eyes.
"Well, um, I'm not, well, really growing like other boys." I say cryptically.
"What do you mean? You're not as tall? Come on, at least sit up."
"No. Shoot. I guess you'll see it eventually. Dad?"
"Yes, Jerry?"
"Don't hurt me."
"Why would I-" He's cut off by my next act.
I sit up, the blankets falling away exposing my shirt. It's tight around my bust and clearly shows my large nipples.
"I've been kinda growing differently."
His jaw drops open and he blinks several times before he clears his expression.
"My God, Jerry, how long has this been going on?" Now he's filled with awe. That's much better than the anger and beating I expected.
"Well, about eight months." I try to lie but feel so relieved that he didn't hit me, didn't throw me on the street, didn't respond with anger that I'm willing to tell all.
"I think your mother needs to see this. Stay here."
Dad walks out, almost knocking Tony down as he swiftly opens the door.
"Tony, down stairs now." He commands. The door closes and I hear a muttered, "Denny! I need to see you!" through the door.
I wait for a few minutes. A soft knock on the door tells me mom wants to come in.
"Come in." I say, resigned to my fate. I just hope the whole world doesn't find out. But then, isn't that what I want, what I pretend almost daily?
"Hi sweet-" Mom, too, stops short when she sees me.
"Wow. Well, that explains the mysterious charges on my credit card. You've been ordering drugs online haven't you?"
"Mom, it's not like that at all." I say defensively.
"Show me." She commands.
I take off my shirt, exposing my obvious breasts.
"All of it."
I remove my pants.
She points to my underwear. "All."
I pull them down and off.
My pee pee is tiny with fear and even smaller in the cool air. It's small enough that I don't have to tuck it back when wearing dresses or skirts. My balls are pretty well missing. My ball sack is significantly smaller -- maybe the size of a fingernail. My hips are starting to widen and my butt is definitely bigger. The hair on my face, chest, arms and legs is practically nonexistent. My feet and hands are small for a boy.
"You look like a 28 B. Did you shave?"
I blush. "No. I only shaved a few times but that was just to get the hair off my legs, and that was several months ago."
"So is this what you want, to be a girl, a woman?"
The question I have longed to hear, longed to answer. I start to cry.
"Mommy, I've wanted to be a girl for as long as I can remember."
She hugs me until the tears stop, patting my back and telling me it's going to alright.
"I've been wondering why you're height has been stunted and your shoes are still small." She says. "I just thought you would be a late boomer."
"That is until I noticed the makeup stains on your pillow. Then it started to all make sense. Your eye brows are neatly trimmed. You need to work on them a bit more, by the way. Despite a family history of big men you seem to be holding a small frame with narrow shoulders."
"All-in-all you look very convincing." She smiles but now it's mom's turn to get serious. "Honey, you know you can never get pregnant and if you become a girl you will never have children."
"I can dream. But I've been thinking. First, I think it's too late for me to ever be a daddy." I point at my empty ball sack. "Second I want to adopt a baby."
Mom takes a minute to think it over. "You've thought this through haven't you?"
"Stephanie and I like to plan our weddings, our marriages, even our babies. My husband will be a good and loving man and we will have a perfect marriage. Would you like to know the names of my babies?"
Mom smiles at that. "Absolutely."
"If it's a boy I'll call him Lawrence. If it's a girl she'll be Denise. I have other names but I like Denise the most."
"Why thank you, dear." I think mom positively glowed hearing her name being carried on in the family.
"So do you and Stephanie talk about boys? Do you like boys?"
"Oh, yes." I'm getting excited being able to share so much with my mommy. "There's this boy, Derek. He sits in my English class. He's very nice and he has a cute butt."
"Honey, maybe you should put on some clothes while we talk."
I pull a shirt over my head and pull up my underwear, pulling them all the way up like a girl does.
Mom stops me there. "Wait. Let's go into my room. Maybe you'll fit into a few of my things."
She checks that the upstairs is devoid of men, namely dad and Tony, and we scurry across to her room. "Wait here. I need to iron out a few things with your dad and your school for today."
I walk into her closet and run my hand across all her pretty clothes. Most of it looks too old for my tastes but I love all the colors. I check out a few choice items, pull them down and twirl with them held close. But no, none are right. All the way to the end and what do I find? A pink top and lime-green miniskirt just like Stephanie's.
I squeal with joy as I pull down my favorite outfit. I lay it out on the bed, ready and wanting to try it on.
Just then mom enters. "Ok, we're good for today. So, Jerry, do you have a girl name picked out for yourself?"
"Oh, mommy! It's my favorite! How did you know?" I barely notice what she said.
"I saw a girl walking with a stroller with those on about a week ago and thought that, well, just in case it was you."
"I love it!" I squeal again and jump up to give her a hug.
"Ok, you're bouncing all over the place. We need to get you into a bra and fast." She opens a drawer and pulls out a beige lace bra. "It might be a little big, but try it on."
I smile and put it on quickly, clasping the hooks with ease. I then adjust my boobs and check to see the fit. It's a little loose but it fits nicely.
"Do you have a girl name?" She asks again.
A new pair of panties goes on followed by the pink shirt and green skirt. I love it! "Oh, yes. I like Jennifer. But you can call me Jenny for short."
"So, as I was saying, we have the day off. I want a chance to get to know my daughter."
Day off? Daughter? This is better than I dreamed! Wait, maybe that dream will come true -- me in a beautiful gown and a mystery boy coming to sweep me away.
We spend the day talking about girl things -- clothes, boys, clothes, makeup, stuff like that. I tell mom about my perfect wedding and she admits that it's very close to the wedding she envisioned when she was a girl.
I even get my ears pierced! I tried to get a belly piercing but mom wouldn't have it. "Not until you're 30 or living on your own" as she put it.
We got manicures and pedicures. I even got a new haircut. The stylist showed me how to keep it up -- and I do. I get nail extensions and have them painted pink and white. Mom warns me that working with long nails will take practice. I just smile and tell her that now is a good time to start learning.
I get makeup at a big name department store. We visit counter after counter of items and I walk away looking strikingly beautiful. I even get some bracelets. Did you know I'm an autumn?
That night dad calls us together for a family meeting. Tony oogles me for a moment until he recognizes me.
"Jerry is that you?"
I smile and simply reply, "Jenny."
"Wow you really have changed! Girl, you are hot!" He shakes his head. "I can't believe I said that about my own brother."
"Jenny is your sister now." Mom informs Tony. "She's convinced me that she's serious about being a girl and has obviously taken steps to ensure she continues to be a girl whether we like it or not."
"We are going to take Jerry out of school. They are being told that Jerry is moving out West to live with his grandparents for a while. Meanwhile Jenny will be moving in with us and will be enrolling in school tomorrow."
"As for living arrangements, Tony will be moving into the office and the office will be moving out to... wherever."
Dad groans at that. But Tony loves the idea of getting his own room.
"We need to get some paperwork proto for Jennifer so that she can join us on the cruise." Mom continues.
"I don't think we can get all the needed paperwork fast enough." Dad stated plainly. "Jerry may have to board but he can change -- I'm sorry, She can change once we're settled."
And that's exactly what happened. I wrap my chest with a little help from mom and dress as Jerry for the last time. My suitcase is packed with only girl's clothes -- my clothes. I am so looking forward to trying on that two-piece swimsuit. The boys will be falling over themselves to say hello.
Years go by and I love being a girl. I love the makeup and the clothes. I love being chased and kissing boys. Admittedly I wish I could stand to pee again, but that's ok. Also I don't have a vagina like real girls. But I do have one hole and it has been used by more than one boy. I tell them that I was kidnapped by foreign terrorists and they removed my girl parts. A few boys decided not to follow through and just indulged in heavy petting followed by me giving them a blow job.
Today is my sweet sixteenth birthday. As I hoped, my hips did get wider. My voice kept its higher feminine register, my body is smooth and soft just like all the other girls -- except for Martha. She's got hairy arms and even a mustache. But I digress.
In three days I get to have surgery to give me the vagina and labia I so want. The doctor told me everything he will do to form the parts. Most of it requires skin grafts but he's using a new technique that only requires a small skin sample to grow a whole part. I gave them the sample three months ago and the doctor informed me this morning that my new vagina is ready.
First he will remove my scrotum. My balls atrophied and died long ago so the rest will be easy to remove. Then he's going to move my little nub of penis down and form a clitoral hood with it. He wants to keep the nerves intact so that I get maximum stimulation. Finally he will make an incision down to my anus, move things around a big and insert my newly grown vagina and inner labia. The excess skin will be used to form my outer labia. He says I will have up to five inches of depth but I need to keep it stretched out or it might shrink.
My thought to the last was "Oh, darn! I have to keep it well used? I'm sure Brad will be upset."
The operation was a huge success. The first few days they keep my new organ packed with gauze. Then they have me stretch it with a dildo every four hours. The nurse tells me that I must not have sex for four weeks. I tell her I will try. She chuckles at that.
A week later they wheel me around to OB/GYN and another doctor inserts this cold metal instrument and checks my depth and stitches. Then my doctor enters and gives me unexpectedly good news.
"Jennifer, I've been informed that you are the ideal candidate for another new procedure. Just like we formed your vagina, now it seems they can create a uterus and possibly fallopian tubes. We can't create an egg sack, yet, but we might be able to give you everything else. You won't get pregnant, but you'll get to experience periods and artificial insemination becomes a possibility. You might-"
I faint.