This is a short piece of fiction based on my Tuck fanfic, I Am Not Alone. Many thanks to Ellen Hayes for her help in re-editing this story, and making it better.
All constructive comments are welcome. Please e-mail to me: sam@pobox.alasaka.net or samanthas_michelle@yahoo.com
Finally, this is a piece of adult fiction. If you are underage, or if you find it offensive, please go elsewhere. Quickly.
Andi’s Story by: Samantha Michelle Copyright 2000
I was born Andrea Marie Thompson. Mom worked for the State Department. Dad was a civil engineer. They had been married for just a year when Mom found she was pregnant with me. Surprise! But she had good maternal instincts. So she decided it was time to complete the family. Soon I had a little brother and then a little sister.
I guess my childhood was really pretty normal, except that I spent a lot more time with my Dad than most girls. Dad loved to fix up old cars, and so I became his helper. Instead of eye-liner I often wore axle grease. And because I was so different from the other little girls, I was usually lonely.
It went that way until I turned eleven. I watched as all my friends started their periods, and filled out their training bras. I just grew taller, and more muscular. I was so incredibly happy when my nipples suddenly got big and sensitive that I ran around in a thin undershirt until my Mom caught me. Then I got a training bra. But that’s as far as it went.
About six months later I had my first period. I didn’t know whether to cry or celebrate. Just after I turned twelve, I really discovered sports. Not those watered-down girls games; serious track and gymnastics, football. And best of all, wrestling. But they wouldn’t let girls play contact sports.
And, a few months after my period, I ‘figured out’ what boys were for, and got really interested in them. Unfortunately, they treated me more like a brother than a potential girl-friend. But they also taught me how to dance. And I loved it.
I had a really hot temper, which got me in a lot of trouble. And I was aggressive. If I liked a boy, I would tackle and kiss him. So I think I scared off any boys that might have liked me. My Dad suggested that I take up martial arts as a way to expend my apparently limitless energy, and learn some self control. It was a great idea. The local dojo housed masters of several different disciplines under the same roof. And for the first time I was in an environment where girls were not treated like frail pieces of china. I began to think my favorite skin colors were yellow and purple, with accents of green, red, and almost-black. By the time I was thirteen, I was competing in tournaments and usually placing in the top six slots.
Just after I turned fourteen I received my first Dan (black belt) in Jeet Kun Do. And started high school. And started to have to shave my upper lip regularly. I didn’t have a lot of face fur, but it was enough to be embarrassing.
At the high school level, our dojo sponsored some martial arts tournaments. I was torn between on the one hand, wanting guys to go out with me, even though I had more muscle than figure, and on the other, cutting off my extremely long hair to be more competitive. But I was winning often enough. And getting stronger by the day, so I kept my hair. Six months later I received my belt in Akijutsu.
Just before my fifteenth birthday, my voice dropped to a low tenor, and I had to practice speaking in high tones out of embarrassment. I was ready to become a stockholder in Nair. And was on my way to the fall State martial arts tournament, in two disciplines.
That was where my life fell apart. I was well ahead in the rounds when someone complained that with my body structure and low voice, I must have been taking steroids. So I had to take a physical and give them a blood and pee sample. When the results came back POSITIVE, they tossed me out of the tournament.
I was sobbing as I dialed home. The tournament officials had summarily ejected me when the results of my physical came back saying I was taking male hormones. What was worse, they announced it over the PA to everyone, and I was the laughingstock of all who saw me. All I wanted was to go home and die.
Mom answered the phone, and I poured out my story to her. She knew I would never do anything like that, and said Dad would drive out and pick me up. Two hours later I was sobbing on his shoulder as he threatened the tournament officials with everything from simple assault to a lawsuit. But they refused to budge, citing my appearance and voice as confirmation of the medical findings.
I cried the whole way home. Mom called her doctor, and got a prescription for something they said would make me relax. I was too groggy to do anything for two days.
Dad contacted his lawyer, and sent me to a couple of specialists. I got poked, prodded, questioned, and zapped. I still refused to return to school, not to the teasing and ridicule I knew would be there. I began to wonder if life was worth living, and started thinking of ways to run away and end it all. When we went back to the specialists, they said they had found I had a strange hormone imbalance. This was why my body was developing like I was a teenage boy, rather than a girl.
When they said that because I would test positive for steroids, I would never be able to compete in sanctioned events, I felt my world crumble. The only good thing was that the tournament officials had violated my rights by releasing the results before independent testing, and I would be eligible for public apologies and probably quite a sizable financial settlement.
That made me feel not at all better. My life had disintegrated into nothing, and all I felt, all the time, was just agonizing pain as I waded through the wreckage of what had been a life before that damned tournament, and the doctors. And I knew it wasn’t going to get any better.
When I got home, I palmed the relaxation pill Mom gave me, waited until Mom and Dad were asleep, and left. Forever. I had some money, and a change of clothes. I knew I had to find a place to stay where no one would expect to find me, until I was ready to kill myself. I didn’t think it would take that long, but I couldn’t do it right away. I figured at dawn....
So I went to this café at the edge of town. It was supposed to be a gay and lesbian coffee house, which also rented rooms without asking questions. I had never considered sex with a girl, and had never had sex with a guy, so the orientation of the patrons didn’t concern me. When I got there it was dance night. Unfortunately, all the rooms were taken. The dancing was fast and hard, though, and I needed the release. I checked my small travel bag, downed a Pepsi, and hit the floor.
And, for the first time, I REALLY let loose. I felt hot and hurt and I didn’t give a damn what anyone might think. I went wild. I rubbed boobs and crotches and got rubbed and sandwiched and did all sorts of randy things. With both guys and girls. And I realized that I liked it. I was about ready to grab a guy and ask him to screw my brains out so I would not die a virgin.
Then I felt a tap on the shoulder. I turned around and there stood Greg, a senior at my school, and a member of the school wrestling and martial arts team. I tried to run away, but he grabbed me, saying, "Hey, don’t disappear. I believe you’re innocent."
I pushed him away, and made like I didn’t hear him or care about him being there. Which I didn’t. I wasn’t really interested in anyone messing with my last night on earth.
I was hugging someone, I wasn’t quite sure who, when I heard his voice again. "YOU need to go home," he said to both of us. My partner disappeared, and I turned on him. I was going to make him pay for interfering, but he must’ve guessed what I was going to do, because he kissed me. That blew my concentration, and as I flailed at him he had no trouble putting me in a wrist-lock. and marching me out the door and to his truck. I was so startled and confused about him messing with the last dregs of my existence that I just lost it, screaming and crying as he opened the door, stuffed me into the back seat, buckled me in, and locked the doors. I found the doors and windows didn’t open from the inside.
Eventually I curled into a ball on the seat in frustration, and just retreated into myself.
I felt him carry me up a stairs, and knock on a door. I heard it open, and a soft, female voice commented, "You brought me a present?"
"No Gracie. This is Andi, the girl from the wrestling team they accused of using steroids. I met her at the café, where she was going really wild." He carried me over to a couch, and covered me with something. "She tried to run when she saw me. When I said I did not believe she was guilty...."
"Do you think she’s on something?"
"No, and I didn’t smell any alcohol. But, do you remember when Julia went crazy and then almost killed herself when her Mom threw her out? Well, she looked just like her, and it scared me."
I tried to jump up and run, but I failed to notice a coffee table. I hit the floor, stunned. Then someone landed on me. Hard. And pinned me firmly.
I figured it had to be Greg. He was a black belt too, and out-weighed me
by about a hundred pounds.
"Gracie, get some rope from the den, and hurry. She’s strong, and I don’t want to have to hurt her." I struggled madly, but was unable to free myself. I tried to bite him, and wound up with my face mashed into the carpet, with him squeezing the sides of my neck. I stated to feel weak, then dizzy, then....
I woke up lying on my back, on a bed, with a headache. I tried to move, and
the headache got a whole lot worse, and my stomach started hurting, too. But nothing moved, and I realized I was tied hand and foot. "She’s awake Greg." I
managed to open my eyes, and saw the woman smiling at me. "Bet your head hurts, right?" I nodded, and winced.
She started to massage my neck, and I whimpered. But the massage made the pain diminish, and soon the headache was gone. That was when I really realized I was tied up. "Hey, you have no right to tie me up like this!" I tried to sound indignant. "Let me go this instant. This is kidnapping!"
"No. And be quiet and civil or I will tape your mouth shut." I stared at her, but her expression was confident, and I knew she meant it. So I glared at her. I heard something, and turned my head to find Greg bringing in a soda can with a straw.
"Gracie is really good at massaging out pinched nerves. So are you thirsty?" I wanted to scream at him, but instead I nodded. The liquid tasted good, and the sugar seemed to help my stomach.
"Why am I tied up?"
Greg and Gracie looked at me. Greg spoke carefully, "You lost control, and I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself, or someone else. So after I knocked you out we decided to make sure you were secure before we woke you." He looked at me carefully. "So why were you at the Café on a school night, acting like a bitch in heat?"
I broke down sobbing. He came over and held me until I stopped. "That bad, unh?" I nodded. "Care to tell me about it?" I shook my head. "Well, maybe I should call your parents and tell them where...."
I shook my head violently. "Please, no, I can’t go back there and face them...." I started to cry again.
Gracie came into view. "Greg, get the hell out of here for a bit. It’s time for a girl-to-girl talk." He nodded, and I could hear him leave the room. "So your name is Andi?"
"Yeah, short for Andrea."
"Greg said you were thrown out of the state meet, is that what all this is about?"
I nodded, then shook my head. "Kind of.... I’m some sort of weird freak...." The tears came back and I sobbed as she held me. "They accused me of taking hormones and made a spectacle of me and everyone laughed at me and I didn’t do anything wrong and...." I ran out of breath, and sobbed silently for a while. ".... and then my parents took me to a specialist and found out I’m a freak that is turning into a boy and I can’t ever compete again and will never have a boyfriend and everyone will laugh at me and I just want to die." I was wailing as I ran out of breath. Then I was gagging for a while, until I got control of that, and then it was just me feeling bad.
Gracie stared at me with tears in her eyes. "Been there, kid. Don’t let them get to you. Let us help."
"What the hell do you mean you’ve been there? How can you help? You’re beautiful with a great boyfriend and can’t know what it’s like to have never had a real date. Or for guys to treat you like a brother instead of a girl." I sniffled "And you don’t have to shave your face every day or smell bad or...."
"Or nothing. Shut up a minute. I’m going to get Greg."
She returned several minutes later. I got busy testing the ropes, but I was very securely tied in place.
"Andi, Gracie told me what you said. But I think it’s your emotions, not your brain talking. Try concentrating like you do to calm yourself before a match, then tell me what happened slowly and in detail."
I nodded, and closed my eyes, reciting katas in my head. "I was at the meet when someone accused me of taking steroids. You already know the result. They said my body shape and deep voice confirmed the tests. When my father brought me home he had me examined by a couple of specialists, including someone called an endocrinologist." I paused "Can I have some more soda?" They put the straw in my mouth. The sweetness helped.
"When they got the test results back, they told us that my body is making way too many male hormones, and also making a lot of female hormones. Which is why I tested positive. But they told my Dad I can never compete because of that. And they said I would continue to develop mostly as a boy, with big muscles and no figure and...." I started to sob, "And I don’t want to be a freak, a girl in a guy’s body. They said I seem to be fully female inside, and can probably have kids if I want. But no one will ever be able to love a freak like me. So dammit let me GO so I can disappear and die and then no one will laugh at me again."
I looked at them. There were tears in their eyes. "No. We won’t let you hurt yourself. We’ve lost too many friends because they were different, just in a different way." Gracie looked at me. "Andi, I personally know several guys, and at least a dozen girls that would consider you their ideal woman. Hell kid, all of those beautiful muscles of yours are making me horny."
"But you’re a girl.."
She broke out laughing, and Greg swatted her. "Andi, I’m a lesbian."
I stared at her "But you and Greg..?"
He spoke up "And I’m gay. We’ve been housemates ever since our parents threw us each out because we were homosexual." He sat on the bed. "Andi, love is not about sex. Love is about caring and feeling and wanting to share those emotions with the other person."
"Please let me go. I’ll leave quietly...." and your consciences will be clear, I didn’t say.
"Not a chance, Andi. Kids who are different kill themselves way too often. It’s like an epidemic. We were lucky, because we were okay with ourselves when we got tossed out. And we had each other to turn to when it happened. You ran away, and your parents love you even with your differences. So you have them rooting for you, and are young and healthy and can have a wonderful life once you quit worrying about being different." He looked sad. "You have no idea how much I would give for my parents to call me up and tell me that they still love me." He sounded bitter. Gracie hugged him.
He continued, "So we won’t let you go until you change your mind about hurting yourself. Besides, I need a sparring partner. Gracie may be cute, for a girl, but she’s as helpless as a lamb." I saw her hit him. "At least once you take away her knives and guns...." We all laughed.
"I just realized what time it is, and I bet your parents are frantic." I shrugged. "We need to let them know that you’re okay."
I shook my head violently. "They’d trace the call and send the police and take me back."
"Not the way I’ll do it. What’s your number?"
"You’re not lying to me, they won’t be able to find me?"
"I swear on my life, Andi."
I gave it to him. "Okay. Be absolutely quiet, and listen." I nodded. He went and got a speaker phone, hooked it up, and dialed a number.
"Police department, records section, how can I help you?"
"Is Tony working the lab tonight? This is his friend Greg."
"Hi Greg, it’s been a while since you called him here at work. I’ll patch you through."
There were some clicks, and then another voice. "Greg, dude, what has you calling at this weird hour?"
"Need a real favor. Got a young runaway here who was getting ready to do herself in. We’re going to help her, but I need to make sure her parents know she’s safe, but not in a way they can search for her."
"Can do easy. She one of Gracie’s?"
"No, it’s more complicated. Her name is Andrea, and her number is...." He rattled it off to the phone.
"Will do. How long do you need? I can cover up to about three weeks, then it gets rather complex."
"Try for all three weeks."
"Will do within the hour. I hope I get a chance to meet her one of these days. See you at the club."
"You bet. See ya." Greg hung up the telephone. "As far as your parents will know, you are at a safe house for runaways somewhere in New Jersey, and have said you need a couple of weeks to sort things out."
"You’ve done this before." It was painfully obvious.
"No one should have to die because they are different. So get some sleep."
"I need to go to the bathroom." Who knew, it might even have a window. I wasn’t that happy about staying around here. I wanted to be back in control of my life again.
Gracie laughed at me, though. "Ever used a bedpan?" I groaned.
Gracie could not get my tight pants down with me spread-eagled on the bed. "Sorry kid, but I’m going to have to do a bit of surgery." I got scared as she pulled out some scissors, and moved out of my field of view. Moments later the remains of my pants and underwear were gently pulled away, leaving me naked from the waist down. A couple more movements and my top suffered the same fate.
"God, you’re beautiful". She came back into view and smiled at me. "Are you sure you’re not at least a bit Bi?"
I shook my head. "I’m ugly. I’m hairy and my tits are tiny and I’ve never even had sex with anyone."
"And a virgin to boot?" The way her voice sounded.... it wasn’t a voice I ever thought would be turned MY way, that’s for sure. I glanced up, and she was almost drooling. She closed her eyes, though, and shook her head, and said to herself, "I’d better cover you up before I do something I shouldn’t. You’re way too much like one of my fantasies." She pulled a sheet and a couple of blankets over me.
"I still need to pee." I reminded her. I did, too.
She chuckled. "Be right back." When she returned she worked a thick towel under my bottom, and pressed a cold object over my crotch. I squeaked from the temperature and intimate contact.
"Well, go," she suggested after a long time.
"But I can’t, I mean like you’re here and...."
"And someone’s got to hold it in place, and you can’t, so quit complaining." I realized I was stuck. It took a minute, but after I finally relaxed, I think I filled the damn thing. She took the towel, and gently wiped me. When she rubbed my labia, I arched upwards, and she chuckled. "Horny?"
I blushed to my toes. "Yes, dammit, I’m always horny as hell. They even said the hormones are the cause."
"Want some help?" Her voice was soft and seductive. She pulled up the covers. "If you want some, I’ll be in the next room."
I heard her start out the door, and suddenly realized I was being left alone, helpless. "Wait, please don’t go, I’m scared to be alone like this."
She came back, and looked at me "Yea, I guess it is pretty scary. Tell you what, if you won’t fight me, I’ll handcuff your wrists and feet together, and tie the cuffs to the bed. Then I can sleep next to you."
I was scared. Of her. And of being alone. My fear of being alone won.
"Okay, but please don’t...."
"I’ll behave myself. Not willingly; I’d rather play with you. But I don’t do rape. Be back in a moment."
When she returned, she released one of my arms, and cuffed my wrists together. She then tied a rope to the cuffs, and to the top of the bed. When she released the other arm, I was still secure. She repeated the procedure for my ankles. I had more slack, but was not able to free myself.
I watched as she undressed. She was the image of what I wanted to be:
stunningly pretty, all smooth curves and flawless skin. Flawless hairless soft WOMAN’s skin....
When she climbed in next to me I was crying. "Hey, why the tears?"
"You’re so soft and beautiful and I’ll never be and...."
She put a hand over my mouth. "You’re beautiful too. Just in a different way. So relax and get some sleep." She snuggled her naked body against me, and settled in place. I guess the warmth and exhaustion took its toll, and I fell asleep with my body sending conflicting signals about the woman next to me. Well, my body was sending one set of signals, but I wasn’t ready to think about it.
When I woke up, she was still sleeping next to me, but she had rolled over and was sort of wrapped around me. She had one hand on my right nipple, and her thigh was pressing against my crotch. It felt good, but it wasn’t supposed to. I knew I was not a lesbian.
But it felt REALLY good....
At this point, I really did not know what I was. When she woke up I was staring at her beautiful face.
She smiled at me, then looked scared, and pulled her arm and leg off me.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to...."
"It’s okay. It was kind of weird, but it, it was, okay, I guess."
She got up, and stretched. "Need to pee?" she asked over her shoulder. I nodded. We repeated last night’s exercise, but she had to work the receptacle between my legs, which made me incredibly aroused. Wiping required her to push her hands between my thighs, and I moaned and squirmed. "Hey, take it easy, I’m doing the best I can."
"Do any better and you’ll need to stuff a pillow in my mouth." I froze when I realized what I had said.
"Do you want me to?" He voice was sensual. I shook. My body was screaming yes, and my mind was on vacation. "Try something different, I guarantee you won’t regret it." I started to cry.
"I, I think I want to, but I’m afraid and...."
"I’ll be gentle. And I don’t expect you to reciprocate." She looked at me hungrily. "So do you want me to help, and why the pillow?"
I nodded. "I, well, when I....I sort of get noisy...."
She giggled, then got something out of a dresser. "Clean sock." I opened my mouth and she worked it firmly into my mouth, and tied it in place with a ribbon. When she covered my eyes I shivered. She whispered in my ear, "Relax and enjoy. I’m going to make this really special...."
It was, too.
I woke up slowly, still twitching occasionally from Gracie’s magic touch. I had all the will power of a bowl of warm pudding. My eyes still closed, I smiled. Gracie was right. It was the most incredibly sensual experience I had never encountered. No one told me my toes and eyebrows were erogenous zones. I think my hair roots had orgasms.
I had a mental twinge that it was wrong for a woman to made passionate love to me all night. ‘Bullshit,’ I said back. Whoever had told me that it took a boy to make a girl feel good had never met Gracie. I wondered if I was a lesbian. And then realized it didn’t matter.
I tried to move, and found I was no longer tied up, at least not as much. That quickly brought me around. My hands and feet were still cuffed together, but the ropes were gone. And I had to pee. Really bad. I managed to sit up, and decided to try and hop to the bathroom.
I slipped trying to get out of the bed. So inchworm would also work. I was halfway out the door when Gracie saw me and started laughing. "Need some help?"
"Just tell me where the bathroom is."
"Turn left, it’s the second door on the right. Take a shower while you’re at it."
I was a fast inchworm. The door was open, and I was able to pull myself upright using the doorknob. Hop, hop, hop and sit. Aahhh....
It felt so good to do it myself again. I looked at the shower, and the cuffs. And sniffed. I decided a bath would be easier. I was soaking in a tub, and doing my best to wash when the door opened, and Greg came in. I shrieked, and tried futilely to cover myself. I know I blushed down past my shoulders. "Hey, I mean like how about some privacy?!"
"You don’t turn me on."
"Oh...., yeah, well, er...." How the hell was I supposed to reply to that?
"Get out anyway."
Greg continued, "And Gracie said you would need help to wash your back and hair." That made sense, "I often help Gracie with hers. Do you want to do it sitting or standing?"
He helped me up, And I stared as he stripped. His body was incredible. I shuddered as my nipples stood straight out, and felt a quivering between my legs. But he was as limp as last week’s lettuce. He washed my back, and then my hair. My mind was reeling. It wasn’t my body. It was that I was a girl.
He finally finished rinsing the conditioner through my hair, and effortlessly picked me up by the waist and stood me on the bathmat. And dried me off. Everywhere. I moaned a few times and he chuckled. "Gracie said you were the most sensitive and sensual girl she had ever done." He paused, and looked at me, worried. "She didn’t force you, did she? She can be pretty insistent and...."
"No, I agreed to try, and it was, it was.... the most incredible...." I was at a loss for words.
He laughed. "She’s an artist. And she loves giving pleasure as much as getting it." He finished drying me. "Hungry?" My stomached growled and I nodded. "Good. Gracie will be back soon with supplies. Do you like waffles?" I nodded again.
I ate breakfast stark naked, still cuffed hand and foot. It was a weird experience. But I was hungry and the food was good. I ate as much as Greg. Gracie did the dishes, and Greg carried me to the living room, wrapped me in a blanket, and settled me on the couch.
When Gracie came in, she sat facing me. "Well, feeling better?" I nodded.
"Ready to learn more about living with your differences?" I nodded.
Then I shook my head. "My life is over, so why bother?" That sort of slipped out. I hadn’t meant to say anything.
Gracie got right in my face. "That was your old, boring life," she smiled.
"This is the new, exciting version. Got it?"
"Fuck-" I started to curse her, but she kissed me and tried to inhale myt tongue. I wanted to fight, but my body was screaming for more. I finally managed to pull away. "Hey, no fair!"
She giggled. "Tell me you didn’t enjoy last night." I flushed, and tried to withdraw into the blanket. "Well?"
"You damn well know I loved every minute of it. God, I never believed that I could feel so...."
"So aroused that you lost control and followed your instincts?" I nodded
"So does that mean I’m a lesbian?"
She gave me a contemptuous look. "Hell no, girl! It just means you can accept stimulation and pleasure from another woman. Did Little Greggy here take off his clothes when he washed your hair?" Greg was chuckling. I nodded, and blushed again.
"Did he make your nipples stiff and your pussy twitch?" I tried to turn a brighter shade of red, and nodded.
"Then you’re not a lesbian. He can do the same things to me, and all I get is a warm feeling from his being my friend."
"Oh...."
"And he looks hunky. I like painting him," she tossed out, which confused me even worse. "So quit worrying about it. Sex just is. Love is what it’s all about. Love is deaf, dumb, and blind. And gender doesn’t matter." She held me. "Love is not the size of your boobs. Love is the person." She held me for a little while, and so did Greg. Or they held each other, and I was in the middle, or something.
Finally, they let go of everyone. "So let’s try again, Greg said. "Are you ready to promise not to run away or hurt yourself, or do we have to keep you tied up like a puppy?"
"How do you know I’m not going to lie to you?" I didn’t mean to say that, either. My mouth was starting to seem like my worst enemy.
Gracie answered, "Trust is a two-way street. Part of learning about who we area is learning to trust." She paused. "Do you want to hurt me?" I shook my head. "Then don’t lie. Lying hurts."
"Oh.... Shit...." I sat there, and thought. I managed in a small voice, "Can I make the promise one day at a time?" They grabbed me and nearly crushed me with hugs.
"One day at a time is plenty, love."
I wound up back on the couch while Gracie made some phone calls. "Today’s lesson will begin after supper. We’re going dancing."
"Dancing?"
"At a club over in New Jersey where everyone is a bit weird."
"Weird how? It’s a gay place?"
"And a whole lot stranger. You won’t fit anything I have, so I’m going to take you by one of the sister’s places to get you something to wear." She smiled. "And it’ll be more than a bit kinky, so no complaints."
"Kinky?"
"Yep. Like leather and lace and chains and...."
"In public?" I almost screamed.
"Sure. What have you got to lose? You already gave up on your old life. You wanted to die, right? So who cares about being embarrassed?"
"Okay.... I think" She had me there. And my promise. I wondered how much weirder my life was going to get.
Greg pulled out a key, and removed the handcuffs. I stretched, and rubbed my wrists. "How come you’ve got handcuffs and...."
He smiled. "Gracie likes to play bondage games with her friends. If you want, I’m sure she would love to be tied up and let you do to her what she did to you."
"Eep! Um.... Can I take a rain check?" He snickered, and nodded.
I wound up dressed in a pair of Gracie’s panties, an oversize T shirt of Greg’s that looked like a very short dress when belted, and a pair of girl’s high heels someone had left behind. It looked ridiculous. "Don’t sweat it," Gracie told me, "they’re just going to strip it off anyway where we’re going." I gave her a wary look. I was not sure she was bluffing.
She stuffed me in an older Ford Explorer that she said was Greg’s, and we drove off. Twenty minutes later we were in a rather sleazy looking area, and pulled up next to a huge house with several Harleys parked in the front yard. I was starting to get nervous. I saw a bunch of black leather with blonde hair launch herself at Gracie. Their embrace made my crotch twitch in memory of last night.
They finally separated. Gracie said, "Andi, this is Sheryl, chief dyke and owner of this house of ill repute." Sheryl stuck her tongue out at Gracie. Gracie’s, "Please, and lots of it?" made it very clear they were more than just friends. "Come on inside. Sheryl and her crew agreed to help get you a set of or two of clothes, and an outfit for tonight." I squirmed in embarrassment, and arousal, as Sheryl massaged my bottom as we walked to the house.
Gracie noted my concern. "Sher, she’s under my protection, so hands off, okay?"
"But she’s so cute...." the woman behind me said sensuously, and I almost tripped.
"You don’t know the half of it. Wait till you get her clothes off." I blushed.
We found ourselves in a big living room, where there were several more women. They looked me over like it was lunch time and I was the main course. Sheryl said something, and one of the women started to undress me. When I objected, she got physical, and I reflexively flipped her onto the couch, dropping into a fighting stance. Instead of backing off, Sheryl got an evil grin, which sort of corked my apology before I got it out.
She quickly stripped, revealing tattoos and a lot of muscles. "Strip, girl, and let’s see how well you dance." The others rapidly cleared a big area of carpet.
Gracie, looking really scared, said, "Andi...." But I’d stripped already.
Which wasn’t hard once the shirt came off.
Sheryl said in awe, "God, Gracie, she’s beautiful. You sure she’s not...."
"No, dammit, And I don’t think you should do this" She looked at me. "Greg found her two days ago, ready to kill herself, and we were trying to show her that being different is okay, and now you are playing tough and...."
I spoke up. "Gracie, relax." I looked at Sheryl. "I could use a good fight. But I don’t want anything broken. And my sensei require me to tell any opponent I’m trained...."
"What dan?" Sheryl asked.
"First in akijitsu and Jeet Kun do," I told her.
She smiled, and bowed. "Shaolin Tiger style. Best two out of three?"
I nodded. We faced each other, feinted a lot, and I made the first move. I was glad there was padding in the carpet. I bounced, hard. My butt was going to be sore for a while. She was giggling, until I showed her what a long leg could do to upset her footing. We sparred for a bit longer, and she attacked. Bad idea. She skidded tits first across the room, and hopped up, howling and rubbing her abraded nipples. It was my turn to snicker. At least she was smiling.
Ten energetic minutes later we were both bruised and scraped, but she finally pinned me. She was going to make me beg to get loose, but Gracie snapped something and Sheryl was off me instantly.
I hopped to my feet, and we bowed to each other. She smiled, and rubbed her badly scraped breasts. "You dance pretty well, for a kid. Welcome to our house," she announced in a formal tone, and bowed deeply at me. I stared at her. "Gracie should have told you more about us." I looked for Gracie, and found her, looking pale, staring at me.
"Greg said you were good, but not that good."
Sheryl interrupted Gracie. "Kid, I’ve been competing for ten years. But that’s the first time I’ve gotten a nipple burn. Gracie is going to have to kiss them and make them better." I blushed. Gracie licked her lips.
Soon I was sitting next to Sheryl, still naked, comparing notes on technique. One of the girls whispered something to her, and she smiled. Telling Gracie she could play with her friends, she pulled me to my feet, and motioned for me to follow her.
When we were out of sight, she giggled. "Gracie really likes to play mother hen. So did you really threaten to kill yourself?" I wound up telling her my story.
I expected her to laugh, but instead she gave me a hug. "Gracie was right, you’re worth the effort. Hell, if you decide you can’t go home, I could use a sparring partner. Even if you don’t want to sleep with me, you are Welcome in My House." You could hear the capital letters on the words, but I didn’t know what they meant. I stared at her. "You’re good people. You just haven’t figured who you are yet."
We stopped in the middle of the hall. She pointed to the ceiling, where there was a big door. "The attic. Can you lift me so I can grab the ring?" She weighed a little more than me, but it was easy after the warm-up we’d had. The door was really part of a folding stairs, which she unfolded as she pulled it open and down. "You’ll be glad you’re naked, ‘cause it is usually pretty warm up there." She was right. It made a good sauna.
She looked at several piles of stuff, selecting a trunk and a large box. We dragged them down to the hallway, and folded the stairs back up. Sheryl hollered for assistance, and we had lots of help moving everything to the living room.
I gasped when I saw Gracie again. She was blindfolded, and strapped securely, stark naked, to an X shaped contraption in the middle of the room. And was moaning and laughing insanely as an older woman carefully worked a feather over her.
Sheryl whispered "New toy, and Gracie loves being teased while she’s helpless." I was getting a mind-boggling lesson in the stranger side of life.
Suddenly Gracie arched her back and started to shake and scream. I realized she was having an incredible orgasm. I was startled that it seemed to last for several minutes. When she finally finished, she hung like a rag by her restraints. The older woman careful released her, and carried her to a couch. She was already breathing heavy, and completely limp in sleep.
"She looks satisfied." I nodded.
"She said she was trying to find some clothes for your, well, unusual build," I cringed, but she ignored it, "and asked if we had anything. Most of us are pretty buff, so it seemed possible." She paused. "Cathy, the one who whispered to me, remembered that one of the sisters was a weight-lifter about your size, and she’d stored a bunch of clothes here before she, she...." Sheryl went stiff and wiped her eye. "Before she was killed in an accident. She was one of my first lovers." I held her close until she quit shaking.
I muttered "Even the strong have to be weak sometimes." It was something I had read, long ago.
She looked solemnly at me. "Remember that, kid, it’s the first step in accepting yourself." I suddenly felt scared, and held on to her. We shared that embrace until someone mentioned we needed to get moving.
Sheryl opened the trunk, saying I could have anything that would fit. There was more than I would have thought.
Gracie woke up, to my prodding her with a long leather thing that one of the girls called a riding crop. I was wearing a laced-on leather vest that barely covered my nipples, a tiny leather flip skirt, and a leather thong and belt arrangement that was making me so horny it was obscene. And cycle boots with spurs. My hair had been braided, and was held in place with a leather scarf.
With the scuffs and bruises from the match with Sheryl, I looked so much like a mean bitch I scared myself. Sheryl had briefed me well. Gracie almost jumped out of her skin, opened her eyes and I gave her a hard swat across her abundant fanny, growling "Kneel, bitch!"
I almost screamed myself when I saw the bright red mark it left on her bottom. But it didn’t slow Gracie down any. In a flash she was on her knees in front of me, head down. "Yes, mistress." I just stood there, awed.
Suddenly she twitched, looked up, and fell over laughing. "Andi, Sheryl, damn you, don’t tease me like that." I reached down and pulled her up, apologizing for hitting her so hard. "Don’t apologize Andi, just promise me you’ll do it again, later." I looked at her.
"You are one strange, weird, perverted, crazy...." I searched for more adjectives "goofy, silly.... kinky person." I looked at her. "And I think you’re my friend." That got tears and a hug.
We loaded everything into the Explorer, and I found myself promising to arrange for some mat time with Sheryl in the near future. I wondered what it would take to get her to beg for mercy. I suddenly realized I was looking forward to something, and started to shake. Gracie got real concerned, and when I told her, she kissed me. "Go for it, girl. You’re learning."
We never made it dancing that night. Half way back I started to sneeze, and by the time we go to Gracie’s place my head hurt and I felt awful. I wound up spending a week alternating between chills and sweats, the benefit of a bad case of the flu from school that I thought I’d missed. It looked like Greg and Gracie were immune. I hoped so. I wished the damn bug, in spades, on the judges that gave me the heave-ho.
Gracie, Greg, and I did a lot of talking, and when I was finally back to solid food, they scheduled a trip to the same dance hall for that Friday. They convinced me to call my parents from a pay phone, and after a lot of tears and pleading, I promised I would come back home next week. I really missed them. A lot.
Friday I again dressed in the leather outfit, but left the long thing I swatted Gracie with at the apartment. She wore a spandex minidress that screamed "Hot". Greg was the respectable one, in jeans and a thin sports shirt. We arrived there about nine, and I made it in the door with my brain only slightly addled.
There were metalheads, and Goths, and flaming gay guys and really butch women. And they all seemed to accept the others. Once we had grabbed a table, I saw guys wearing skirts and makeup, and a whole bunch I was not sure about. The band was playing oldies, and I starting to bounce with the beat. I tried to dance myself into oblivion. It was wonderful.
We left when they closed at two. Actually, we staggered out to the Explorer, so tired and sweaty Greg had to pull out towels so we could all dry off before we soaked his seats. I no longer thought I was a freak. Gracie and Greg were almost normal. I was just a little different. The really hairy guy, or whatever it was, that was hung like a horse and sported a double-D chest, now that was freaky. And HE hit on ME. Weird.
But I still felt incredibly alone. Everyone there wanted to look the way they did. And I did not. I was certain of one thing, Gracie was right. I could still enjoy life, at least a little, even as different as I was.
I don’t remember the trip back to Greg and Gracie’s. Or getting into bed. I woke up in a nightgown, tucked in next to Gracie, who was snoring softly. I curled around her, and went back to sleep.
When the time finally came for me to go back to my parents’ house, Gracie suggested I keep the kinky stuff I got from her biker friends at their place, and I agreed. I had the change of clothes I’d started with to go home in, so that’s what I was wearing when they dropped me off a couple of blocks from home.
Mom and Dad threw themselves at me when I came inside. After we all had a good cry, even Dad, they wanted the complete story. Without naming names, I told the truth. Most of it, anyway; I didn’t ask them what they did to make me and my siblings, so they didn’t have to know about me and Gracie.
Mom wanted to haul me to a hospital; Dad just wanted to hug me. And my brother and sister, who had been hiding upstairs, wanted to go out to dinner. I suggested steak. Mom mumbled something about knives. Dad said something about paranoia. I went and changed clothes while they yelled at each other. The steak was great.
When I went back to school on Monday, I was far, far behind, and didn’t care. I figured that I could get caught up by the end of the semester, and they owed me for getting me booted out of the tournament and ruining my life. And that they wouldn’t dare say anything about me ‘leaving’ like I had. I was right. And catching up required all my time, so I didn’t have much of a chance to sit and stew about my problems. I also kept in touch with Greg, and occasionally Gracie.
Just after Christmas, Gracie called and asked if I wanted to spend a couple of days with her and Sheryl and their group. I was afraid, and was also wriggling. Mom was still scared about my running off again, but I made it clear the people I wanted to visit were why I came back. Dad settled the issue, by voting on my side. So I spent five days, including New Year’s Eve and Day, catching up on snuggles. And other things.
I was glad I had warned Mom that I was going to do some non-tournament martial arts competition. When I finally got home again, if it wasn’t scraped, it was bruised. I looked like a combat casualty. And I was limping from one of Sher’s off-the-wall attacks. Gracie mothered both of us. Yes, she kissed it and made it better. Yummm. And Sher does do a good begging act.
I am now a certified member of the orgasm-till-you-pass-out-screaming club. I thought Gracie by herself was incredible. She and Sher played me like a harp. I guess I’m definitely bisexual. Sher and I took on Gracie two times. She’s even more beautiful when she comes. And Greg has made me his steady dance partner. He really loves to let it all hang out, and Gracie can’t keep up with him. I can. The last time we went out, she had to drive us home. Greg was too tired to find the keyhole to start the Explorer.
By February, my disappearance was forgotten by most everyone, and I managed to sneak away with a couple of acquaintances for a weekend at the casinos in Atlantic City. I’m plenty big enough to pass as much older. Which got me into a heap of trouble; I was actually winning big and someone decided to check my ID. Whoops. They made my parents come all the way to the casino to verify who I was, and then gave my winnings to them. When we got home I was grounded for a month. Worse, they put the money in my college fund, and then made me pay the taxes out of my allowance.
I was still nearly friendless, except for other weird people like Gracie, Greg and Sher. I definitely was without a boyfriend. I got a lot of "if you’re desperate," offers from guys, which I did NOT accept. And I still felt immensely ugly. But I was beginning to understand Gracie when she said it might take a long time, but eventually I would come to accept who and what I was.
One of the first casualties was the schizophrenic bedroom I’d had, or developed, since I was a little girl. I gave my little sister the femmy stuff she wanted, and my brother the butch stuff HE wanted, and tossed most of the rest. Mom threw a fit when Dad kept giving me the leftovers from his office, and then a real Pentium, which went well, sort of, with the sick dying and dead PC’s of various ages that I picked up. My room now resembled a national disaster. The old Ford police car he bought at auction was soon mechanically sound, and ready in the garage for when I turned sixteen. Or they opened a nearby racetrack.
Mom refused to take me on training drives, citing her sanity, and ulcers. She thought I was going to commit vehicular suicide, but I had great reflexes. Hey, like if there is a couple of feet of clearance when changing lanes at 55, it works, right? I mean, like at Indy, they do at 190. Dad only closed his eyes and gripped the seat. Hard. I was looking forward to the freedom my own transportation would provide.
The thing that bothered me the most was that all the weird people I met wanted to be what they were. I was the only girl who was turning into a boy involuntarily. Dammit, I wanted a say in what was happening. Which it looked like was not a choice. So I studied, and played with my car, and played with Sher and her friends, and Gracie, and sort of let life go on. And tried not to think about me, too much.
It was late in the summer I met Valerie, but that is another story,
Finis
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