A Family Change
by: Patricia Pendragon

 

My father was ‘something in the city’ as far as I knew, while I grew up in a loving and reasonably well off home, my father would leave for work each morning and return at night. Most weekends he would be at home and we shared a happy and sometimes exciting relationship as I grew up. It emerged as I got older that he worked for the government and held quite an important position – but, he never told me more than I really needed to know about what he actually did or where exactly he worked in the city. All this would change suddenly and dramatically just as I entered puberty. All to soon my life would change forever, irreversibly and, at first, much against my will.

My fourteenth birthday proved to be a turning point in my life, but at the time I did not even notice. It passed quietly enough, as a family event, celebrated with an outing to a holiday cottage my parents had borrowed in a remote part of the country. It was a lovely area, one we visited quite often and I particularly enjoyed the freedom of being able to swim in a naturally fed pool in a very secluded part of the large grounds. This meant that swimming nude was perfectly acceptable and I enjoyed the freedom to do this to the full. I was indulging myself in this fashion when I became aware that my mother was approaching with another woman I did not recognise. Alarmed I scrambled to the far end of the pool in an attempt to conceal my nakedness, as there was patently no time to reach the place I had left my shorts!

"Come over here please dear," called my mother with a wry smile, "we have something important to tell you, and you really do not need to worry about your lack of clothes right now!"

"But," I started to protest, to be cut off by my Mum waving me to silence.

"Please son, don’t argue, just come here and listen very carefully, we don’t have a lot of time to waste!" she indicated the woman with her and continued, "This is Sarah. She is from a special unit in your father’s office and she and her assistants have come to help us disguise you and your father so we can be taken to a safe place."

"Yes, Pat," smiled the woman, "your Dad has been involved in some very sensitive work for the government and some very dangerous people are now trying to get their hands on him and his work. We have to take some very radical steps to get you away safely." She glanced at my mother and added, "It isn’t going to be easy and we haven’t a lot of time. You and I have a lot to do so please don’t worry, I need you to trust me anyway and this is a good please to start!"

Reluctantly I swam back to where they stood and, blushing furiously, climbed out.

Looking me over carefully, Sarah nodded and said, "Well Pat, this isn’t going to be easy, but we better get started. Come on let’s go to the house and get on with it!"

As we walked back to the house my mother tried to explain that because of the threat to my father and the very real possibility that we could be used to trace and trap him, they, that is she and he, had decided to take a radical option and try to keep us together and safe. In short we all had to ‘disappear’ and become someone else. What was more, we had to do it immediately and be gone within a couple of hours. It was only when we reached the house that I began to realise that the change she had in mind might be even more radical than I thought!

I was whisked into the bathroom and a strange smelling cream was applied to my whole body. When this was washed off in the shower, every trace of hair on my body went with it! This proved to be only the beginning, as I was then taken to my bedroom and told to lie on the bed with my legs spread and my knees raised. Sarah quickly and efficiently applied some straps which secured my legs firmly in this position and laughed away my protests as she applied an ice pack to my genitals! I was still almost speechless with the shock when she began to fold and tuck my shrivelled penis and scrotum applying surgical glue as she did so. By now we had been joined by another woman and in short order I found myself with a simulated vulva where minutes before had been my male equipment. Releasing me, they helped me up and, again waving aside my questions and protests, began attaching some small silicon breastforms to my chest. Further forms were swiftly attached to my hips and buttocks changing my body shape completely! The weight of the breastforms came as a surprise and the padding around my hips and derriere made a difference as well, but suddenly I discovered that having breasts made some movements with my arms was no longer quite so straightforward!

As soon as these where firmly secured, again with surgical glue, I was handed a pair of panties and the second woman began to put me into a bra.

"Right!" smiled Sarah, "Now watch carefully, you may have to do this yourself later."

"But," I began, "what the hell are you doing to me? I don’t want to be a girl!"

"Oh? Which part of dead don’t you understand?" fired back Sarah, "You have a choice, disguise and escape, or stay as you were and end up dead!"

"But what is going on? I don’t understand!" I protested.

"Look," she tried to soothe me a little, "I know its all a bit frightening like this, but believe me it won’t be that bad for you. Your Dad is having a much worse time and your Mum will have it bad as well. It is the only way we can completely change everything the other team will be looking for and move you out of danger." She paused and started to apply some make up to my face, "Now, we really haven’t got a lot of time and we still have to make you into a proper girl! Watch what I am doing and make sure you can do it right for later!"

 

Ten minutes later, my face made up and my hair restyled, I was dressed in jodhpurs, riding boots and a smart rollneck shirt and led out to the living room. Here I was joined a few minutes later by a man and a woman I didn’t recognise until the woman spoke! Then I realised that my father and mother had also transformed, swapping roles and, apparently clothes!

"Sorry about this Pat," said my new ‘mother’, "this has got a bit out of hand and we have to get away from here quickly."

"Dad," I began, and was interrupted by Sarah.

"Mum!" she exclaimed, "Pat, you must get it right or we will all be in real trouble!"

"OK! Mum," I blurted, "why do I have to do this? What’s going on?"

"Listen Pat," said my ‘Mum’, "I don’t particularly like this either, but we have little choice at the moment. We are all in serious danger and this is the only way we can get away and stay safe!"

At that moment several men came into the room. The leader looked us over carefully and nodded, "OK Doctor, we have the cars switched and everything is ready for you. Let’s get moving now. Sarah," he ordered, "you will drive and just keep it natural. If you are stopped, you know the drill, you’re on your way to a riding lesson and then going home. Got the address? Good!"

"Thanks Mike," my ‘Mum’ said in a slightly more feminine tone, "Good luck with this end!"

"Don’t worry," grinned Mike, "it will work! The three of you will be ‘lost’ in the process we have rigged and they will lose a few too for the authenticity of it! Sarah will get you to the safe clinic and the rest will go from there!" He patted my shoulder and added, "Best of luck to you all, this won’t be easy for you, but," he grinned, "By God, it will really confuse them!"

Minutes later we were on our way.

 

About two miles from the house a policeman at a roadblock stopped us. Several others in flak jackets stood about the car as the first man spoke to Sarah. "Good afternoon madam," he said, "Sorry to inconvenience you, but we are looking for some dangerous terrorists who are believed to be hiding in this area. Have you seen a dark metallic blue Ford Orion on your journey through to here?"

"No Officer," replied Sarah, while my ‘Father’ leaned across to apparently hear better and Sarah continued, "Is there any knowledge of who they are? Or how many?"

"Yes," said the officer grimly, "they are posing as a family. Three people we are looking for in the Ford, one of them posing as a child."

While they were speaking one of the other policemen was walking around the car and looking hard at each of us in turn. I began to feel very afraid as he did so because I recognised the description of my parent’s car and because this man seemed particularly mean looking. As we were now in a Volvo estate all my supposed riding tack was exposed in the rear and it was obvious that there were only the four of us in the car.

"I must ask you all to step out of the car," said the first policeman, "purely a formality I assure you," he laughed reassuringly.

 

Once we were out of the car, two men stepped forward and did a cursory search of the interior. Apparently satisfied, they nodded and we were allowed to get in again and drive on. We were to be stopped twice more and the same exercise repeated, before we were finally able to join the motorway and head toward our destination. My questions as to what was happening were at last explained as we drove and I learned that the roadblocks were not real police, but a dangerous group posing as such.

I learned that my father had been engaged as a scientist researching human DNA evidence techniques. Two things had happened as a result of this, first he had made an important breakthrough in genetic engineering of human beings and second, his DNA technique had finally enabled the Security Services to track down key members of a dangerous and very shadowy group intent on the overthrow of the government. They were a very powerful and well connected group, and had vowed to kill my father in revenge. The Security Service had discovered they planned to kidnap us and ‘make an example’ of us all.

The second thing I learned as we drove, was that there was no way I could ever go back to being my former self, a new identity and gender was what lay ahead for all of us. I asked my ‘mum’ what he felt about this. "Nervous!" smiled my ‘mum’, adding, "but we’ll be OK, my love," ‘she’ added in a voice unmodified by any attempt to sound feminine. "Your ‘Dad’ has a more difficult change to make than you and I," she reached across to grip my ‘Dad’s’ shoulder and received a pat on the hand in response.

"But, I don’t want to be a woman, Da-, I mean Mum!"

"My dear," interrupted my ‘Dad’ from the front seat, "if we had any other choice, you can believe we would not be doing this to you!"

 

A month after our escape, Sarah told us that the ruse had worked and the terrorists apparently believed we had left the country – or died in an accident that had been carefully staged. In response to me asking whether this meant we could shed the disguises, I was taken to my bedroom and asked to strip. Stood in front of the mirror my ‘mum’ asked me to feel my breasts. They felt larger and there was a tenderness beneath the forms. Likewise my buttocks felt heavier and seemed larger as did my hips and my waist seemed to have shrunk. The real shock was the change to my crotch. The ‘lips’ had become much heavier and the slit deeper with additional folds forming inside it. The skin inside this was becoming sensitive to the touch and my penis seemed to have shrunken so that it no longer felt as if it was straining for release when I started to get aroused.

"In a couple more months," ‘Mum’ explained, "Your genetic code will have been re-written completely and the changes will accelerate. At your age the changes should be complete in about a year and you will be fully female, able to get pregnant and have babies." She smiled and added, "I envy you, your ‘Dad’ and I started a long time ago when we first knew this might have to happen. It takes longer for adults, but we will soon be as fully changed as we can be without some minor surgery to finish it off."

Looking in the mirror I experienced mixed emotions, part of me repelled by what was happening and part of me fascinated and excited. "But Mum," I said slowly, "What will I look like? I mean what does a girl have, er, down here?"

"Is that what worries you?" she smiled gently.

I nodded.

"OK, wait here, I’ll ask Sarah to show you."

 

Soon after she left, Sarah came in a broad smile on her naturally pleasant face, "Right," she said, "Anatomy lesson Number 1!" and started to strip. Once she was completely naked she took my hands and invited me to feel her breasts. Her nipples responded by elongating and hardening and she grinned at my surprise, commenting that I would soon find my own just as responsive. Next she lay down on the bed and raised her knees with her legs spread as wide as she could. Telling me to look closely she spread her moist lips wide and explained the inner and outer lips, her clitoris and the exciting opening to her vagina.

At first slightly embarrassed, I was soon interested enough to forget my blushes and ask some questions about what it felt like to touch or probe this amazing cleft. With complete openness Sarah tried to explain, but finally suggested I compare what was developing between my own legs with what I was seeing in her crutch. In this way she gently led me to accept what was happening to me and to begin to feel less fearful and angry about the loss of my maleness. When we finally got dressed and went to join my parents I was at last prepared to ‘act like a lady’ and stop trying to fight the feminising process.

 

As promised, the changes began to accelerate rapidly within a few months. Most obvious was the development of my breasts and the filling out of my hips and buttocks. My waist ‘moved’ higher as my hips grew wider and as a result my reflection showed a rather shapely figure long legs leading up to shapely hips, narrow waist and well formed breasts. In fact I was surprised to realise that my legs had actually grown longer while my torso had not, so that my body/leg proportions were now definitely female. My neck had elongated slightly as well and my voice had become a pleasant alto while the planes of my face had lost the harder lines of a male and softened as my lips became fuller and my nose and jaw assumed slightly more delicate proportions.

In my crutch, the only remnant of my former boyhood was my overlarge clitoris, nestled inside the folds of skin now forming my labia minora, but apparently formerly my foreskin.. Even the opening for my urethra had moved inside this slit, but further back I now had a fully formed vagina and I soon discovered the answers to some of the questions I had put to Sarah!

 

While I had been engrossed by my own transformation that I was barely aware that my parents were themselves transforming. I was surprised to discover their reversal of roles and genders when we went bathing together one weekend. It was the first time I had seen my ‘Dad’ dressed only in bathing shorts and I was amazed to notice that ‘he’ was now very definitely a man, the only indication that there was something different about him, was the size of his nipples. Although smaller than my own, they were sill larger than normal for a man, but not obviously so. And from the bulge in his shorts, he was exceptionally well endowed in that department too! His torso was well proportioned and muscled but retained a softness of skin texture disguised a little by the hair growing on arms, chest and stomach.

My ‘Mum’ had also changed, her breasts larger and fuller than mine (as was to be expected!) and her figure was that of a good looking woman approaching forty, but still trim and good looking. We three ‘girls’ turned heads as we joined our ‘man’ on the beach. To our amusement he was actually quite protective and tut-tutted about Sarah’s and my rather daringly cut swimsuits. Sarah’s was a very skimpy, but attractive, bikini. Mine was a one piece lycra cut high on the hips and low at the back with very little over my rather shapely buttocks. It also seemed to enhance the shape of my breasts and, by moulding tightly to my crutch, seemed to enlarge the mound of my vulva. At his insistence I used a light wrap to give myself ‘skirt’ to satisfy his ideas of modesty. My Mum looked on with an amused twinkle in her eyes while keeping her face neutral as she agreed with him. Sarah grinned as she watched us and then, in sympathy with me, donned a similar wrap. Our day at the beach was a great success. Every time I went for a swim, boys seemed to need to be around me and I was under no illusions as to what they were hoping for or wishing for. One or two bolder than the others tried to chat me up, but I played a little hard to get and kept them at a distance – except for one boy who seemed nicer than the others. He was well built, attractive and well spoken. He also seemed to be rather well endowed if the bulge in his swimmers was anything to go by! His name was Peter Carne and I was quite pleased to learn that he lived quite near us in our new home.

 

We had by this time settled in a small town where I was sent to the rather expensive Girl’s School as a day scholar. Thanks to the coaching Sarah had lavished on me, I was by this time so well schooled in being a girl, that I was able to fit in quite easily. Peter went to the boy’s equivalent school on the other side of town, but we were able to meet up occasionally and I found him exciting and very sexily attractive. But, underlying all this was the confusion I still had over who or what I was! So, while I was deeply attracted to Peter, I held back from any contact because I still thought of myself – at least in terms of sexual relationships – in some ways as male. The result was that while I was more than happy to be in his company, I stiffened up as soon as he tried to cuddle or kiss me.

Sarah came to my rescue and helped me to straighten myself out on this, but warned me to be careful and not indulge in intercourse if I could, until I was older and surer of my real feelings for whoever it was. With her help I was able to gradually get over my hang-ups on my relationship with boys, Peter in particular. I also discovered masturbation and orgasm! Wow!

 

At school I made a number of friends and they helped me adjust as well, although they didn’t know this. Their frank discussions of their boyfriends and their sexual explorations helped me to realise that my own feelings and developing taste for boys were perfectly natural for a girl. I listened fascinated and sexually aroused as one of my friends, Diana Washbourne, confided her exploit with her boyfriend when she had given him oral relief.

"His spunk tasted delicious," she giggled, "but he bloody nearly drowned me in it – he just kept on spurting and I was afraid he’d get it on my blouse!"

"So what did you do with it?" asked Lucy Broadbent, always a little slow on the uptake.

"Swallowed it of course!" laughed Diana, "He was squealing and groaning like nobodies business! And you should have seen how crazy he went when I carried on teasing his knob end with my tongue!"

We all laughed at that and she continued, "It seemed to make him even more sensitive. A bit like us when you keep on going after you’ve hit the peak? You know how it is! Anyway, he really went wild then, until his cock went soft on us and he sort of made me stop."

 

About six months after I started dating Peter, I experienced my first period. This came as a real shock even though I had been warned that it might happen at any time. For a couple of days before it I had felt tired and a little unwell, so I had some warning, but it still came as a shock. Using a tampon and sanitary towels was a real pain and the several days that it lasted was hardly fun! I was less than happy at being forced to endure this – after all, I had not asked to undergo this change! But then Peter would call and take me out, or one of the girls would come round and we’d go out and suddenly it didn’t seem so bad.

 

My seventeenth birthday is just around the corner, the third since my enforced change of gender and the first since I started dating Peter. I think I might be ready for some experimental broadening of my sex knowledge. I might even try Diane’s approach, I have a feeling Peter might enjoy it and I think I will too. You never know, we may find some other pleasures in it for me while we’re at it!

 

 

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© 2001 by Patricia Pendragon. 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.