Andrea's Story

by Christy Lake and Misty Dawn

 

Andrew Winslowe dug into some wierd books belonging to his sister, Sharla Winslowe. That happened on the Solistice. Now the Autumn Equinox is upon him. Strange things happen around Sharla and Strange Forces are at play. And some people do not play.

 

Chapter 3 School, Swimming and Halloween

With his almost feminine gait, Andrew moved lightly through the house from his room into the kitchen where he discovered Sharla, with a Dew, poring over one of those strange books from "La Caisse", as she called it. "Darned ratty old wooden box, it looks like to me." He never noticed he no longer cussed, even in his mind. He went to the "fridge" for a Dew and poured it from the can into a glass—he never drank from the can if he could help it nowadays—and pecked his sister on the cheek sat at the table across from Sharla. "What up, girl?" he asked lightly, straining to keep his voice in a low male register.

"Catching up on some reading." She smiled at him. "Is that a new shirt, Andy?" It looked like a sateen blouse, though it had a breast pocket and buttoned as a male shirt. She closed the book "Runes and Writing" and laid it under her hand beside her glass.

"Yeah! Dullard's was having a really great sale the other day and I just couldn't resist it." He reached up and fingered the collar in an unconscious, decidedly feminine gesture.

"That color is right for you," she added, commenting on the soft pastel lime color.

"Yeah, I guess." The boy squirmed a bit, uncomfortable with the subject. Boys didn't sit around discussing clothes with their sister. "Whatever!"

"Want a cookie, Andy? They're fresh-made this morning."

Andrew nodded. "Yes, thank you." It never occurred to him he was getting to be more polite, and not just with this brat of an older sister, who, for some reason, didn't seem to be quite the brat she used to be, but with everyone. He watched her rise from the table and go to the cookie jar on the counter top near the end closest to the back door.

Then he felt a tingle run up his spine, like a mild scare one gets in a storm and then experienced a quick wave of dizziness and a moment of nausea. It felt as if he had been kicked in the groin. He gasped sharply, and then just as suddenly felt perfectly fine again.

Sharla heard the sharp, pain-filled gasp and glanced at the clock—1:27--as she turned back toward the table with a brace of cookies in two napkins, one in each hand. She took in the scene and knew what had happened. She knew exactly what day it was and what the equinox meant. She glanced at the calendar as if hoping it might not truly be September the twenty-second. He was bathed in Blue Energy that quickly faded into his body. The damage had been done. Although she was not that familiar with the Blue Energy, something about the pattern she had seen soaking into her brother said female. If her suspicion was right, the Blue Energy represented magic and the Blue Magic was changing her brother to her sister. "I probably ought to get used to calling him Andrea and Andi, thinking of her, instead of him now, I suppose."

"Something wrong, Sis?" he asked as he reached for the cookie and napkin. .

"Nothing that can be corrected, Dude." She looked at him ruefully, wondered again how much longer she would be able to call him "Dude"? "Now, eat your cookies. I gotta run."

"Later, girl," Andrew waved as Sharla swept up her book and left the kitchen in a bit of a hurry it seemed.

A few minutes later, when Andrew went to the bathroom, it seemed a bit different to sit to pee, and it was curious he no longer had anything contained in his scrotum. Though curious, it really didn't seem to concern him as much as it should have. "I really think I should be in a panic about this! Why doesn't it bother me that I no longer have them?"

"I better tell mom, so she can get me in to see Doctor Hollister," he told the reflection, and then went to his room to see if he could find a pair of shorts that would look good with this new shirt. It was going to be a nice warm fall day.

**********

These days it seemed he was wearing nearly all his emotions on his sleeve, allowing them to be seen by all and sundry. Somehow, and it still seemed so strange to do so, it felt good to get them out in the open. "Yes, it did feel very good to cry and whimper when the home team lost a hard-fought, really close game!"

Thinking about this he realized that as a boy, he was restrained, even constrained, by society in what and how emotional releases were allowed and then to display only in private. As a boy, when close friends on the teams were injured, or the stress of seeing too many broken plays and wasted moves took their toll on a game, he always had to maintain strict emotional control. He had always been taught the public release of grief and the attendant flow of tears was something to be frowned on, never coming from a man. He'd had to live by the macho code of never showing public grief. He had always bottled it up tight inside, until it got to be too much. Then he would sometimes weep alone in his room late at night where others could never see this weakness.

When Mom had taken him to see Doctor Hollister, the good doctor had been upset. Seems Andrew's testicles had retracted and shrank. He had been given a huge series of tests and immediately put on Testosterone Replacement Hormones. Wednesday morning at seven thirty, he had a standing appointment for blood tests followed by a visit to the doctor. The second week, they had doubled the strength of the hormones. He had gotten very sick, and the blood and urine tests showed that the treatment was not working; the stuff was going straight through.

Doctor Hollister, in her kindly way, had told him that something in his body was rejecting the male hormones and that he had a level of female hormones equal to a pregnant woman on his first blood test, and now, even with all the anti estrogens, and testosterones, his serum estrogen level was at the top of the range for female puberty. She had warned him that he might quickly affect his moods, and unless things changed, he could expect his body to start changing to become more feminine.

**********

You should at least try it, Andy." Sylvia argued earnestly.

"But Sylvia, I AM a guy!" Andrew sighed half-heartedly. He knew it was useless to argue with her. Last summer the very prospect of dressing, as a girl for Sylvia, had "Li'l Andrew" flying at full staff. Since the disappearance of his testicles back in September, "Li'l Andrew" had not risen even to half-staff for any reason.

"Believe me, you make a beautiful girl!"

The girl was right; he would make a beautiful girl. Especially now, as even his penis had shrunk to about half what it used to be. "Ghad, I am so embarrassed."

This was to be a huge costume party, and Sylvia's daddy's company was hosting it at the country club. There would be a big dinner, a band and huge prizes, all that and more. It was the "and more" that he knew he would not be able to enjoy. Still, he wanted to go, not only because it was going to be a great party, but also it would be the last time he would see Sylvia for some time. Possibly not again until the MacFarland Industries Annual Christmas-New Year's party held again at the country club during the Winter Holiday break.

Even though he truly wanted to go, he'd kept putting off getting a costume until it was too late. Sylvia and he had spent the entire day looking every conceivable place around "The Bluffs" for a suitable costume. Of course, they'd found nothing. Since everyone he had worked with last summer would be there, Sylvia had declared he had to have a costume that was a whole lot better than just average!

Near the end of their futile shopping-for-Andrew's-costume-day, the girl had became adamant about his trying this girl thing, and since he'd put off getting a costume for so long, he knew he really didn't have a choice. "Well, you're the one that waited too long! All the good costumes are gone. By doing this, you won't have to buy anything, since we can use one of my mother's old flight attendant uniforms." The idea of not having to spend any more of his savings had ended his argument.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Andy. It is NOT your fault the doctors can't cure your problem." As his girlfriend, she knew what was happening, and she truly sympathized. She'd grown really rather fond of Andrew's fairly generous manhood over the summer, but now it was useless to her. Even so, she loved, well, was very fond of Andy and would always be his, or her, friend.

Embarrassed or not, his girlfriend stood there waiting until he was completely naked, then she began to carefully check him all over for hair, which at age seventeen, and because he was still a member of the GPSIS, was very sparse. Sylvia took a couple of measurements, then told him to get bathed.

Then, suddenly, as she started to leave the room, she turned, and casually mentioned, "I think you will be a beautiful girl, Andy. Maybe even a Homecoming Queen!"

Andrew started to say something when she added, in that off hand tone she used, "You know, I really think you would be a beautiful bride, too!"

Sylvia was only two years older than him, and he knew she had never been a bride. He had absolutely no idea what the girl had in her devious little mind. He only knew that he didn't much think he wanted to be dressed as a girl all that much. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he had any choice. "A…a…bride?"

Sylvia didn't say anything more about brides, just reminded him to be sure to use the stuff she left out that would remove all the hair left on his body. "After you bathe, I have a real dress-up gown for you to try on. Maybe I can find my Homecoming Queen sash,"

"Great," he groused, "I'm gonna be the laughing stock of the whole company. A living pun."

"Just go get bathed, and use that cream on the extra hair!" She laughed and nudged him toward the bathroom.

Moments later he was still naked, but now his chest, torso, and buttocks were covered with some foul smelling lotion. He had covered every stray hair. Since his illness he had not had to shave his legs for swimming, and the last time he had shaved was three weeks ago. He stroked the smooth skin of his face and could not detect any stubble. After a short wait, he slipped into the frothy water and watched little hairs start floating to the surface. Using a washrag, the rest fell away. Andrew admitted that he liked the feel of his skin so soft, smooth and hairless. He washed his long, now below the shoulder, hair then soaked a bit before standing under the shower spray to rinse soap and stray hairs from his sleek form. After the shower, looking in the mirror, Andrew saw that the only hair he had left on his body were eyelashes, the thick tresses of red-gold on his head, and a pair of eyebrows. The image in the reflection looked so feminine it scared and thrilled him. Looking closely, he saw what could be breasts developing on his chest. Finally, he went back to Sylvia's bedroom, wrapped in a towel around his torso, feeling girlish and really naked, and totally vulnerable.

The vision that greeted him was lovely, but what he noticed most was the pair of white panties hanging from her finger. Feeling more than a little naked, he took the panties from her finger and quickly pulled them on. They offered almost no coverage since they were so tiny and thin, but it was better than nothing. "At least they cover my pecker," he applauded silently, wincing at the too-female image his butt presented to the world. The narrow strip of sheer nylon that clung about the almost-pronounced curve of his upper hips was connected to the front by an even narrower strip that separated his almost-round buttocks and left the full cheeks naked.

With a small smile, Sylvia took his hand and led him into her mother's dressing room, and then sat him down at the vanity. "That thong looks good on you."

Andrew had to admit it did that. With the thong snugged into place, he had as flat a front as Sylvia.

"God, Andy, you have such beautiful hair," she told him and began to brush out his hair, which she loosely tied back with a scrunchie.

Then, answering his soft groan with a small chuckle, the girl started the makeover. He was able to see everything as she put on a thin foundation, and then powdered it dry. This was followed with several shades of eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, finally a bit of blusher. When she was done Andrew could see not the slightest trace of Andrew, there was only an impish, redheaded girl there.

"Sylvia…"

"Shhh…" and with that, she began putting rollers in his still damp hair and then, finally, had him stand and move into the middle of the dressing room. Andrew felt more like a girl than ever before. Though it was difficult to understand why, he knew he liked feeling this way.

The next item on her agenda was what she called a corset. Andrew recognized it only from pictures he had seen in some of the catalogs cluttering the living room at home. It was all white, and didn't look all that intimidating, because after all, it was just some satin and lace plus a few straps.

Then his waist began to shrink and as he watched in the mirror he saw that the almost flat layer of fat that had been building slowly on his chest was being compressed, forced into small cones filling the bra cups, leaving him with what looked like some modest breasts! When Sylvia had finished with the hooks He sighed, thinking she was done. She laughed and pulled hard on the laces. This forced the corset even smaller! He gasped, she laughed again, and pulled another inch of waist and as it needed a place to go, it went into the cups of the built in bra, too.

Another groan escaped him as his waist compressed further. His chest continued to rise, the cups to balloon. The boy/girl gasped, hardly able to breathe, at what he saw in the mirror. Andrew was shocked! The way the corset fit made him look as if he had more than ample breasts and swelling cleavage created by the lifting and shaping of his chest muscles! His waist was now compressed, giving him an impressive hourglass figure! "Sylvia?"

"Shush!" She admonished and directed him to sit on the edge of his mother's bed while she taught him the proper way to roll white-lace stockings up, one on each leg, then secure them to the garter tabs at the ends of elastic tabs depending from the lower edge of the corset, front and back. Then, once again standing up, Andrew looked again at the girl in the mirror, and had to swallow hard. He had a bra full of breasts, with cleavage to match, a narrow waist with wide hips, round buns and long, sexy legs; a female form to make men drool for.

"I want to try my Homecoming Queen gown on you now, that way I'll have time to make whatever alterations are necessary. Just stand still." She turned and almost skipping, left the dressing room. Andrew felt almost giddy; was it a lack of oxygen? Or was it the prospect of actually wearing Sylvia's prized Homecoming Queen gown? It had made her look very regal. He wondered briefly if she would let him wear that fabulous rhinestone tiara she had worn?

Sylvia was just returning to the dressing room when the sound of high heels pecking on the hardwood floor of the hallway drew their attention. "Damn! That'll be Momma."

Before the words were fully out of her mouth, the woman entered the small dressing room and glanced at the pair and asked, "Hey, girls. What's up?" She seemed not to notice it was Andrew standing there in corset, tiny thong, and stockings in her dressing room.

"Not much. Momma," Sylvia answered quietly holding in her mirth as Andrew pinked from nose to toes.

Then the woman looked at Andrew, then looked again. "Andrew?" She looked at her daughter and asked, ""Want to give me an explanation?"

"Nothing serious, Momma. I have talked Andrew into going to the costume party you and Daddy are throwing at the Country Club next week as a girl and was going to dress him in that homecoming gown of mine."

The woman nodded and, as if it were the most common thing in the world for her daughter to be dressing her boyfriend in women's finery in her own dressing room every day, then began looking at him with a practiced, critical eye. "Noooo, I don't think so. That homecoming gown of yours will never do, not without tons of alterations. But…" she turned away and began riffling through several garment bags hanging from a bar on the far side of the dressing room. "I think I have something in here that…"

Within minutes Andrew was standing there in a sea of white satin and lace, with every inch of newly created cleavage on display! Sylvia's mom helped him into a pair of high heels, which were white satin of course. "No, those're no good." Quickly the heels were changed for a pair of strappy four-inch spike heeled sandals. He stood there; face made up, red hair pulled back and boobs on display, and had a short, fleeting, and frightening thought. "Damn! She looks great!" He kept that to himself of course, no sense adding fuel to this pair's fire.

Using pins, Sylvia's mom marked the dress where she said it needed to be altered, and then Sylvia helped him out of it. Sylvia's mother took the dress and disappeared. He was ready to get changed, but Sylvia handed him a skirt and blouse to wear, then stood there while he put them on. After that simply gorgeous wedding dress, the skirt and blouse was like wearing almost nothing, but his sleek legs were once again on display, since the hem of the tailored skirt was way above the knees.

"Come with me." Back at Sylvia's vanity, she fixed his hair in a very feminine way. "You're out of practice." She kept the brush from him and completed the brush-out herself, quickly and efficiently. "Now, you can come help me with dinner. You can set the table"

Almost immediately the girl went off on another tack. "Those shoes you have on are totally inappropriate for a wedding dress you know. We'll have to get you some new white satin ones, and of course, some makeup that is a better color for your complexion." Sylvia sat there looking at Andy, then her eyes lit up. "You have a very good chance of winning this year's first prize, so why don't we just make sure of it! When we are out shopping tomorrow, we'll get you enough lingerie of your own so that you can dress every day, so you'll be familiar with how to wear that wedding dress, and have the walking and talking and so forth down pat!"

"Tomorrow? Shopping? Like this?" Andrew asked, swallowing hard.

"Well, yes. You've been shopping with me before. You know you'll have to try on the shoes, and of course you'll need to be there for them to determine exactly the right shade of makeup for you! Come on! It's always been such fun! And besides, you're just as cute as can be! I just want to show you off!"

Dinner with Mom and Dad MacFarland—Daryl quickly accepted his wife and daughter's explanation and simply treated Andy and one of Sylvia's girlfriends invited to dinner--was finished and Sylvia and Andrew had been arbitrarily assigned to do the clean up. Andrew was looking forward to getting out of this tight corset when Sylvia's Mom came in, bearing several garment bags and two full plastic grocery bags.

Opening one of the bags, she pulled out two corsets. "To properly wear that gown, you are going to have to loose another inch off your waist. Right now you are so tight you can hardly breathe. I called your mother and explained your costume. She will help you. For the next week, you are going to have to wear that corset all day. After School, I want you to change into this corset. It is a lot longer and stronger. At night, I want you to wear this training corset. Don't worry, your mom said she would be able to help you change and that it would be OK for you to wear skirts and heels while at home. She said she would keep you busy moving around so you will get a lot of practice." Hypatia MacFarland was in steamroller mode and would not let either of the youngsters get a word in edgewise.

"And don't worry about swim practice. I've called Cheryl, the team Captain, and she will help you remove and then replace the corset before and after practice."

"Yes, ma'am," Andrew sighed as he felt the last vestiges of his manhood slipping further away.

**********

A very few of the girls at the party recognized Sylvia, but none spotted Andrew, at least, not right away. Intrigued by this lack of recognition, he put forth his best efforts and did a very good job of looking and acting girlish and spoke in a soft, melodious voice. But soon he was certain he'd been identified, simply due to recognition by association. The two of them had always been together last summer and everyone knew they "were sweet on one another." Sylvia, even in the elegant "Muse" costume was difficult to mistake, especially the long, shapely leg slipping in and out of the slit running nearly to the waist of the sheer gown with every step.

All too soon there seemed to be a buzz going around the room. The boy bride could feel everyone's eyes following his movements, some not believing and others definitely believing. His secret was out now even though he kept the veil in place. He felt the men were undressing him with their eyes and wished again he'd come as a hobo. The bridal gown simply defined his impossibly feminine shape and cleavage.

Within ten minutes of gliding into the spacious dance hall, a young fellow he barely knew—the boy had been in and out of the main office many times--came up to him and boldly asked Andrew to dance. The bashful bride started to refuse but Sylvia goosed her in the ribs and caused her to jump forward. So she went with him. He was a good four inches taller, even with her in heels. Surprising her, he was a wonderful dancer; he found it much easier to follow than lead. When the dance was over, he brought Andy back and thanked him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Wasn't that fun?"

"Yeah. I guess it was," sighed the boy bride. "Oh, Sylvia, this is all becoming so very confusing to me."

"Like I said earlier, Andrea, just relax and have a good time."

"But…"

"But nothing! The rest will take care of itself."

Andrew decided to do just that, and soon discovered it really was fun!

Another tall, handsome boy in a really good Batman costume asked her to dance. He had the build for it too, large, lean muscles rippling beneath the smooth, clinging material. Ghad, what a hunk! Of course Andrew recognized this one. It was Frank! And he knew who was behind the veil!

"Hi Andy. You look wonderful. Come on. Let's have some fun."

Trembling with strange and yet so familiar desires, Andrew nodded and went out onto the dance floor with Frank's arm about his waist. After all the teasing Frank took over being his buddy, Andrew couldn't believe he was actually dancing with him. And the wicked things he was thinking about Frank were very...strange!

Their first dance was a fast dance and Andrew quickly realized SHE was having a good time. The next dance was a slow "belly-rubber" and Frank held her in a comfortable embrace and looked down at his cuddly little buddy with a very weird and wonderful expression on his features as he led her expertly through the steps in his strong arms.

Andrew almost melted.

The boy bride could NOT have resisted that embrace, even if he had wanted to. He felt weak, helpless and somehow femininely delicate in Frank's arms as he twirled them all around and held him close just like he would've any other girl. And with the skirt of the billowing gown swirling about him as they danced it was easy to imagine himself, the girl, the "blushing" bride. Andrea certainly had the blushing part down pat. It was strange and weird, like there was some sort of spell nurturing the feelings passing between them to maturity. They'd had a bond of long standing friendship for sure, but man, this was WAY OUT THERE different.

Glancing up into Frank's eyes, the boy-girl saw he was staring at him, at his eyes. No, at his lips, and with an almost hungry expression. He wasn't positive, but he felt sure Frank wanted to kiss him. It was more than just a feeling. Some how, Andrew KNEW that if it hadn't been for that room full of people, he would have been kissed. Impossibly, he also KNEW he really wouldn't have minded.

Frank was suddenly not only his friend. From his growing feminine perspective, Frank was a hunk! Andrew could scarcely believe the awesome, and so wicked, sensations now flooding through him, nor the feelings he was having while Frank's large hands moved him effortlessly about the dance floor.

When the dance ended, he was still holding him close, a hand casually stroking his back, shoulder to butt. Suddenly the lights came up and the band announced a break and only then did they realize the music had stopped and that they must have been dancing for an awful long time. A bit self consciously, they drew apart and Frank escorted the bride back to her friend. The boy was blushing like a girl all the while.

"Thank you, Andrea. That was great," Frank said and went back to his table.

"Well, Andi? How was it dancing with your beau?"

"I don't think I can describe my feelings in words, Sylvia." Andrew hugged her fiercely, knowing the chasm between them was growing ever wider and that they were powerless to stop it.

"It's going to be okay," promised his girl friend. "And from the way you two were looking at each other, it's pretty obvious you were meant to be together. I think you're both in love with one another and you both know it, just don't want to admit it."

"You've got to be kidding, Sylvia! I can't be in love with a boy, let alone my best friend."

"Why would I lie to my best girlfriend? Trust me little girlfriend of mine, there's going to be some kind of awesome electricity zapping between you two before long. And Andrea, he damn well KNEW who he was dancing with!"

"You're just imagining things."

"Dammit. I know what I saw out there on that dance floor!"

"I CAN'T be interested in a BOY!"

"Wait and see, girlfriend! Just you wait and see!""

**********

"Yes, Andrea, I do want to make love to you tonight, but as the woman you are," Sylvia whispered in his ear as she drew the elegant wedding gown off over his head.

"As a woman?" He held open the garment bag, and then helped her zipper it closed. It would be taken to professionals to be cleaned before it was re-stored.

"Andy, look, we both know there's something happening to you and we both understand that you are no longer Andrew. Not really. We know you are more girl than boy now, and we also know that you and I can never be more the best of friends ever again." Sylvia kissed him then. They both realized this might be their last time together as lovers. "But we will always be best friends, Andrew. And I know you will be happy with that big lug Frank as your beau. He really is a hunk, you know."

"FRANK?" Though it frightened him, the prospect of Frank accepting him fully as a girl thrilled him to the very core of his growing femininity. Still, he just couldn't admit this desire, not yet, and NOT in front of Sylvia. "My BEAU?"

"I promise I won't force you into anything you don't want to do." She was off on that tangent again.

"Huh?"

"Oh, you silly goose, when I make love to you tonight!" She told him "I told you I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to do! Is that fair, or what?"

"That's fair enough," Andrew agreed.

"Good." She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him close, kissing him lightly. "Oh, you feel really tense. Just relax." She began massaging Andy's shoulders. Her fingers felt strong as she kneaded the taut muscles. Oh my, it felt so good, he leaned forward to give her better access to his back.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm."

"Does it feel that good?" Sylvia asked with a knowing giggle.

"Gawd yes."

They hadn't made love since she left for University in September. Sylvia pulled him close and leaned into him putting her hand behind his head and kissed him gently. When she finally broke the searing kiss, she pulled back placing her hands on his small, sloping shoulders. "You are so beautiful, Andy." Then she started kissing him again, this time pushing her tongue between his lips. It was suddenly, somehow, the most erotic kiss he had ever received from her. Ravenous for more, Andrew kissed her back.

Their tongues intertwined, both breathing heavily and neither seemed to want the kiss to ever end. She fondled his growing breasts through the cups of the corselet. A soft moan escaped him when she stopped too soon for his liking. "Let's go to my room," she purred. Impossibly, Andrew discovered his hand automatically picked up his purse before he followed her out of the dressing room. Sylvia's bedroom was at the end of the hall close to the head of the stairs and it was huge, with local artist's work on all the walls around the large room.

 

By the hand, Sylvia led him to the bed and laid him on his back and began kissing him long and lovingly again. "Let's get you comfortable, little miss," she said softly, pulling open the laces and unhooking the corset. She kissed the side of his face, his neck, his ears, and then moved to budding boobs. "You have beautiful boobs, Andy. Frank will love them, you know. I want to leave the light on so I can see them. Do you mind?"

"No, it's okay, I guess." Andrew knew he was blushing again.

Soon she was devouring his small breasts, licking, sucking and biting the rapidly developing mounds. At the same time she was pulling off the few garments remaining on his winsome body. Sylvia quickly slipped out of her robe, began kissing her way up and down his lissome form with light feathery touches of her talented lips and tongue. It felt incredibly good and soon had Andy gasping.

"You are so beautiful, Andrew, soft and full of womanly curves." She put her hand inside his panties and played with nearly non-existent male appendage, calling it his clit, causing it to begin leaking, soaking his "pussy" as she called the tight pucker she teased with fingertip. By then they were both loud in their moaning. Once more Andrew submitted.

Sylvia kissed her way back up to the boy-girl's face and once again they kissed long and hard, but no longer was Andrew the aggressive male of the summer past. Sylvia kept playing with Andy's "cunt", stroking it with two fingers, and teasing the taut orifice until it opened. Then she brought her hand up to play once more with his breasts. Spreading a generous amount of Andy's leaking juice on each nipple, she began to lick it off one then the other. Her hand went from his leaky "clit" to his nipples several times.

Thinking he was going to detonate each time she ran her fingers up and down his smooth "slit" he cried out her name and begged for more. Sylvia then kissed all the way down one leg nipping all the way with light, biting kisses and licks and then back up the other shapely stem, kissed and licked his soft, smooth inner thighs, coming so very close to his "pussy." Andy was wiggling and squirming and he was hot and could feel the juices running out of his "clit."

"Please Sylvia, please eat me?"

"Such a pretty little bald pussy," she replied softly. Then she buried her face in Andrew's groin licking it all over. Andrew's hips were bucking up and down and it felt like he would cum any minute. But this was like nothing he had ever experienced before! Suddenly Sylvia inserted one finger, and then slipped a second into the depths of him.

Beginning slowly, she slipped her fingers in and out, in and out. She put her mouth over his "clit" and sucked and flicked it with the tip of her tongue and bit it gently with her tiny sharp teeth, pulling it up and letting pop back. Sylvia was panting, moaning, making sounds of love as she hungrily devoured him. Andrew's butt was bouncing up and down off the bed thrusting his damp "pussy" onto her plunging fingers and tongue. This was a first for Sylvia, too, but she loved doing with Andy. The taut ring gave way to her thrusting tongue, and she knew Andy loved this just as much as she ever had.

Nothing Andrew had ever experienced had ever felt this wonderful and he didn't want it to ever end." I'm coming Sylvia! I'm coming! Ooh my God, oh yeah! Oh! Oh, oh gawd. Oh, Sylvia! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyeeeeah!" This final orgasm felt like it started in his brain! No! It started in his toes! No, the tip of his nose! Then it traversed to the center of his being and exploded like the wildest grand finale of the largest fire works display he could imagine! And it went on and on until there was just more there. He came once and then again and then again. He was quivering, and he was shaking all over. His breathing came in labored gulps.

Sylvia's head came up from between Andy's legs when she finally stopped shaking. The boy-girl reached down to pull her up to his face and kissed her sweetly with soft lips still trembling. Andrew felt tears forming in his eyes and started crying rather loudly.

"Andy, what's wrong," his girlfriend asked, her voice filled with concern. "Oh, please, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Sylvia! I-I-I," he chuckled then. "Ha! I just feel so happy I have to cry! I never understood that until now. I guess I am really becoming a woman! Ghad, all those times you made me come last summer. Ghad feel so relieved! None ever made me feel like this! Like I'm fulfilled or something. I had three orgasms one right after another. I had never experienced an orgasm by penetration! I guess that really makes me a woman, huh?"

"No one's ever eaten your pussy before?" She'd bid Andrew do it to her several times last summer, and she had thrilled to the sensation of a tongue driving in and out of her most private orifice also, also experiencing multiple orgasms produced by the experience.

Andrew was still sniffling. He shook his head; tousled hair swirled enticingly about soft, now very girlish sloped shoulders.

"I still don't know why you're crying."

"Just hold me, Sylvia." The girl did and they lay with their bodies intertwined neither of them speaking. Andy clung to Sylvia tightly and they didn't speak for a long while. They both knew this was their last night as lovers. Sylvia was propped up against the headboard when Andy slid back down the bed and laid her head on her tummy.

"I've gotta pee," Andy said finally.

"Go on, then," Sylvia encouraged, kissing Andy on the forehead. "I'll be right here when you come back." Andrew FELT Sylvia watching his girlish backside, and blushed furiously when Sylvia said, "My God, Andy! Your butt is incredible!" He was embarrassed, yes, but walked proudly nude to the bathroom in an easy, graceful manner that seemed to display his lithe body, slim hips and long legs that didn't stop.

The bathroom was still very large, was still with the round bathtub and separate shower, but it was as though he saw it for the first time. He sat as he peed and then washed everything. Returning to the bed he saw that Sylvia was dressed in silk pajamas and that there was a soft, sheer baby doll pajama top on the foot of the bed for him to put on. There were no panties with it and Andy never asked about them.

When Andy scooted back into the bed Sylvia told him it was her turn.

Andrew watched Sylvia pad away naked, knowing it was very likely the last time he would ever be the watcher, that from now on he would likely be the watched. Somehow this both saddened him, as well as delighted her. Especially when he realized he was imaging Frank as the watcher now.

Andy snuggled even closer to her when she returned from the bathroom and kissed her. "I can taste myself." Andrew was curious now.

"Does it taste good?" Sylvia giggled. She'd tasted him often, and loved the flavor.

"Yes. I think so." Andrew replied, remembering the times he had licked and sucked his own seed from her fingers, then rolled over onto her back and Sylvia threw her leg over her thighs. But it was not the taste of his sperm he was curious of.

"Well, pretty girl, get used to it."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Andrew, you know how the girls on the team talk…"

"Yep, I do, too."

"Well then, you've heard how much your Frank loves a good blow job…"

"Yeh, and so do all th' other guys I know. I know I do…er…did."

Both girl and boy-girl giggled at that, then Andrea surfaced again and asked. "Do all guys like eating you as much as Andrew did?"

"Not really, a couple of the braver ones have, but usually just long enough to get me hot, and then they want a blow job, which, as Andrew well knows, I do quite well by the way. I love to suck cock. I love when a guy comes in my mouth." She looked at the boy-girl for a long time. "You're thinking about sucking Frank, aren't you?"

Andrew could feel the wetness of Sylvia's sex even through the silk rubbing against her bare skin. Sylvia stroked the boy-girl face lightly with her fingernails. Then she was cupping his breast and kissing his nipples. "God, Sylvia, I love what you're doing. Yeah, I guess I was thinking about sucking Frank." The older girl traced her fingernails down to the younger boy-girl's smooth pubic area and lightly stroked at the narrow fold of skin now totally devoid of curls that once formed a dense bush.

"UMMMMMMM. I'm betting Frank will like that bald snatch of yours, Andy," she chuckled and tugged his stubby "clit" slightly. She missed his "Lil Andrew. And she was sorely disappointed that it was soon to be gone forever. It'd been a real delicious mouth full last summer. And filled her completely in a couple of other places, too, she recalled with sadness.

"What makes you say that?" Sylvia was running her finger up and down the shallow crease that would soon become her slit and she was heating up again.

"Oh, Andy, I still hear things, even if I am no longer in high school. The Gypsies keep me informed and a couple of them are now members in good standing of the "Pleasers" club." Andrew knew Frank had been given a "Teasers" ring the year before, but that he never wore it much. At least not around him, or am I her now?

Andrew kissed Sylvia, running his tongue tip across her teeth. Their tongues met and were soon engaged in a frantic fencing match. "Can we continue this later," Andrew asked breathing hard. Sylvia didn't say a word. She just pulled her top off, and then climbed on top of him and began grinding her sex firmly against into his protruding "clit." She positioned herself so their "pussies" were mashed perfectly together.

"Now, Andy, I want you to just pretend I am Frank and that I am filling you with hot man meat!"

Andrew found it very different to be in the submissive position as Sylvia then started the very same slow movements he had so often used to thrill her when he was where she was now. And then he started moving with her, just as she had done with him so often! The longer they went at it the faster the pace became. Her clit was banging against his rubbery stub as she hunched him harder and harder. And his ass, or was it HER ass, was moving up to meet each down thrust.

"Come on, you sexy little pixie, I'm going to make you cum again! That's it fuck me back, Andy! Shove that hot, juicy cunt onto my prick!"

"Oh, Frank, yes, yes, yes!"

"Come Andy! Come now!"

"Come with me!"

"Yes, I'm coming with you! Oh gawd, you're so beautiful. Oh! Oh, Andy! Come now! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Don't stop Frank, please don't stop. Oh, oh."

The sounds of their bodies slapping together were filling the huge room. And it seemed they turning both girl and boy-girl on all the more." Oh Sylvia, here it comes I'm coming, hard, harder than before! Ohhhhhhhh!" Andy shook violently as he reached another orgasm.

A long moment later, Sylvia collapsed on top of him. She wondered, but would never ask, if Andrew was aware he had called out Frank's name?

Before the couple could fully recover, the phone beside the bed purred into life. Giggling softly, Sylvia snatched the phone up and said, knowing exactly who it was, "Hi, Momma, what's up?"

The older girl listened a moment, then said, "Sure, Momma, that's not a problem. Andy and I are finished up here and he's getting ready to leave." She listened again, and then rolled her eyes. "Yes, Momma, I'll see that he gets into the taxi." Again she listened. Again she made a face. "Yes, Momma, I will have him call me as soon as he gets home."

When Andy left the MacFarland estate in the taxi a bit later, he was wearing a pair of low-heeled pumps over knee-his, a pair of billowy, pale-yellow, elastic-ankle slacks, with a man's fly, but bore women's clothier tags, a thong snugged his little naughty flat against his groin. A pushemup bra gave him the appearance of having more breasts than he actually had under the soft brown man-cut silk blouse with breast pocket.

Pickle looked at his passenger once as the boy-girl entered and gave the address. He then shook his head. It seemed he was always picking up the strange costumes. Last year it had been Roman slave girls, this year Harem Girls! What next year?

**********

Right then, Andrew was feeling something no boy should ever feel; he was proud of looking like an attractive girl. He didn't feel like a boy in a dress, not with his entire body being caressed with all this lacy, soft feeling fabric. Every inch of his body, from his swelling breasts, to thinning ankles, was sending delightful little signals that fairly screamed, "I'm female"; even the sharp looking heels on his dainty feet proclaimed he was not male. He did not feel male, especially when encased in all that gorgeous girl stuff. The Office Halloween Party had been last Saturday. Today, the real Halloween, if anybody challenged him, he was testing out a party costume. Head high, he moved forward into the depths of the busy mall for the first time as a girl.

Later, after his success, he knew he would be going out again as Andrea. It was like an addiction.

Then, incredibly, on a mid-Sunday afternoon foray into the mall, his third solo as Andrea, an acquaintance, one Jerry Tanner, recognized him "en femme" and shoved him roughly into a quiet spot quite alone from everyone, then heatedly demanded, "Look, faggot, unless you want me to call that guard over and tell her what I know, you'll go with me now." Tanner had the reputation of a bully and despised anyone deemed by his society as different. He shoved Andi again, bouncing him off a large potted fern, or some such plant used in the central mall décor.

"I'm no faggot, Jerry," Andrew groaned, looking fearfully up into the taller boy's harsh face. The boy's fingers dug painfully into his shoulder when Andrew tried to jerk away. "Ohhh, please, you're hurting me!"

"We'll see about that," Jerry snorted, savagely poking him in the ribs. "Now, come on." He took Andrew's left bicep in his huge hand and not too gently thrust, then shoved him toward the exit. Andrew felt the strength in the hand and knew it could snap the bone as easily as a pretzel, knew there would be a bruise there at the least!

"Where?" Andrew balked. Agony shot through his shoulder as Jerry again jerked him along.

"Just come on!" snarled the bully. "Th' guard's lookin' at yuh!" He poked him in the back again, using a thick finger as a prod.

Being nearly dragged, confused and devastated, Andrew had no choice but to follow meekly, filled with the fear of being revealed, certain he was about to be beaten to a pulp. Tanner forced Pansy Boy Andrew toward a lonely out-of-the-way place in a tiny park across the boulevard from the mall's rear entrance. The boy in girl's clothing wondered if he would live through it. "Please, Jerry, don't hurt me."

"You do what I tell you, Pansy Boy, and you might live through this.'

"What do you want, Jerry? I haven't any money."

"I think you know exactly what I want, faggot."

Suddenly faced with reality, Andrew realized just exactly what this bully was demanding, and expected him to do. No! He wasn't a fairy. Andrew did not want to do this.

. Though he didn't want to do this—darn it, it was just so finally feminine—he knew he could no longer find the strength within to resist. "God, Jerry, why're you making me do this?" he queried tremulously, lower lip quivering in a very feminine manner. "No! I can't!" Then, looking up into those deep, piercing blue eyes. He whimpered. "Please, I don't want…"

"A couple of reasons, Faggot," Jerry replied, reaching up to brush Andrew's too soft, too feminine, too hairless-to-be a guy's cheek with the backs of his strong, thick fingers. Andrew flinched away from the crude touch. "And I think you know them, only too well," he chuckled softly, in ruthless tones that said no reprieve and then popped him smartly with an open finger slap.

It stung, brought moisture into his eyes. With inner soul in turmoil, Andrew was unable to control his features. Though he knew in his own mind this was what he truly wanted, needed. He felt a compulsive drive to hear it said aloud by his antagonist.

"First, I know you nerds like to do it, and . . ." Tanner said simply, lowering the huge ham-like hand from his cheek to rest heavily, meaningfully upon his shoulder. "It will simply prove to you once and for all that you really are a sissy queer." The weight on his small shoulders grew heavier, the thumbs bruising and painful.

The hand on his shoulder pressed, not so gently, urging him and Andrew found himself-slowly lowering to his knees. The ground was rough against his nearly naked knees. The course grass stubble tore at his stockings, shredding them. He could feel the ladders racing over his smooth skin.

"Please, I don't want to be a girl." Andrew said aloud, though it was not to his antagonist he spoke.

"But you are not a girl, Andrew! You're just a sissy, a fag! Now, you're gonna prove it, to me, to yourself." He tightened his powerful grip on the sissy's shoulder, forcing him to face his future fully.

Now it was as though Jerry had gained some kind of mastery over his emotions. Helplessly in thrall of a powerful male for the first time, he slowly slipped deeper into despair, now preparing to please a male as a female. And to his consternation he now wanted to please him as a female.

"Come on, Cocksucker, get with it!"

Andrew was devastated, his male mindset shattered, to realize life could change so quickly, and so dramatically. In a last-ditch effort to convince Jerry, and his self, that this was not what he wanted; he lifted his face to look once again into those piercing dark blue eyes. But, Tanner grinned grotesquely, seemed so domineering, that Andrew could not voice another denial of the truth. In that instant Andrew knew this brute could tell him to do anything, and he would do it for him. Also, he knew, a part of him, that he could no longer deny, wanted to please this man as a woman.

Feeling his cheeks become flushed with girlish embarrassment, Andrew watched, mesmerized, as large male fingers opened the belt, unsnapped the waist button, and then slide the brass-toothed zipper down right before his eyes. When a wave of totally feminine desire flooded his being, drowning the final vestiges of thoroughly overwhelmed maleness, Andrew felt real female tears trickle from his big green eyes for the first time in his life. He moved his knees and felt the bite of the coarse sand the sharp grass stubble was trying to grow in.

Jerry Tanner shoved his jeans down till they finally free fell to his ankles. A rude chuckle escaped his throat as Andrew gulped loudly. It really was a rather large bulge tenting the front of the white jockey shorts before the youth's eyes. Jerry felt the familiar surge of immensely male power rush through him and he reached forth and cupped a hand over the back of the girlish boy's head. "Go for it, geek! Gobble up all them goodies!"

Though filled with some trepidation, some light-hearted inner forced told Andrew that he was quite capable of handling anything this animal could give. Then Tanner pushed his white jockey shorts down, and his quite sizable pride and joy was revealed. It looked so large! It seemed so fierce! Yet, fearful as it was, it held a compelling fascination. Andrew was being drawn to it. He now felt a strong desire to feel it, to feel it slide between his luscious, lovable lips. He wanted to taste it, to devour it for his own pleasure.

"NO! Oh, God, please, I don't want to suck it!" Andrew begged Tanner. He tried to twist away, but Tanner was too quick ad dragged him ruthlessly, scraping his knees even more. More pain lanced his shoulder as the hand roughly returned him to the position of forced servitude.

And then IT was standing right in front of him. A male spike was bobbing, right in front of mouth, demanding its attention. Once in a while, the huge helmet would bounce off the boy's pert nose; lightly brush full, lovable lips. IT had a strong, thoroughly masculine odor. And Andrew liked it.

"Suck it. Suck my cock, Sissy."

That was not all that he said. But, those were the words that echoed inside Andrew's skull, forcing the only possible answer to the powerful new compulsions now demanding obedience. Andrew knew that further resistance was futile.

Andrew did not know how he was going to feel about this later, but at that moment he wanted it, and from the very depths of his soul, he wanted to feel this man plunging inside his mouth. He wanted to do this.

He looked up at Tanner from his position of female submission, kneeling before him and could plainly see, from the brutal expressions clouding his face, that this would not be a one-time attack. Nervously, resigned to his fate, he licked his lips.

Reaching up and out with his right hand, while the huge male hand on the back of his head forcefully guided, he gingerly, for the first time ever, placed his fingers on the shaft of another male. A sigh of anguished resignation slipped past the shaft as it slipped slowly into his moist oral receptacle. "Hahaha," Tanner laughed as Andrew began sucking in earnest. "Just like I said, a cocksucking Pansy!"

Many long moments later, Andrew felt Jerry's vicious release into the vacuum of his mouth. He felt the thick male flesh buck, tasted the rich, full-bodied flavor of another male's cream on his tongue for the first time. Though he was being forced to accept it this time, knew in the depths of his fully awakened being that this would not be the last time. He had his belly full of the male seed! He had loved it! He had taken a male organ inside his body and had loved it.

Sexually spent, Jerry roughly thrust Andrew away, and then pulled up his jockeys and baggy jeans. He grabbed the arms of the little sissy queer cocksucker kneeling in front of him. His powerful hands gripped Andrew tightly just above the wrists. A twist of both arms outward had the little pansy kneeling tall, displaying his developing boobs.

"Listen you little pansy. I know you liked that! From now on, every Sunday you will meet me here, all prettied up and ready to suck me off again! If you don't, you'll regret it!" A little bit more of a twist and a lift brought the dress-wearing pansy to his feet. Jerry released the little queer and then gave him a brutal back handed slap on each side of his face. "Remember, next Sunday faggot."

**********

Later, Andrew realized that he was alone. He'd finished with the forceful sexual assault. He gingerly removed the shredded stockings from his torn knees, and tearfully snuck home. He stopped counting bruises at thirteen, turned away from the mirror, took a long scalding hot bath, dressed his ravaged flesh, and dropped onto his bed. He then broke down and cried his self into a fitful, very restless sleep.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Christy Lake. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.