Crystal's StorySite

Standard warning and disclaimer: All characters are fictional. If you see yourself, buy a new mirror. Contains subjects some people may find offensive. If you are one of them, why are you reading this? Protect your kids. If you are worried about them reading this sort of material, please censor free speech and use a safe surfing program such as Net Nanny. Or better yet, teach them early and lovingly to understand and accept different lifestyles. Before they learn from bad experiences.

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Finally, this is a piece of adult fiction. If you are underage, or if you find it offensive, please go elsewhere. Quickly.



by Samantha Michelle
© 2001


Ever heard of Murphy's Law? My Dad claims they named it after me. Erin O'Donnal Murphy. Erin was my great-great-grandfather's given name. O'Donnal is my mother's family name from when they came from the old country. Murphy is our family name. I think the bad luck followed us from the old country. My older sister Deirdre says great-great-grandfather Murphy must have molested a leprechaun. A leprechaun with a really twisted sense of humor.

Now our luck is not entirely bad. When the big storm dropped a maple tree on the house last year, and a water pipe broke and flooded the basement, we were all at home and escaped without a scratch. Dad got shot four times in Vietnam. All minor wounds. And all in a place where the sun doesn't shine. Two years ago Mom lost control of her car on the highway and slammed into a farm building. Instead of being injured, she needed to be scrubbed and disinfected. And the police charged her for cleaning their cruiser after they brought her home. See, she hit a composting shed. Full of actively decomposing horse manure. We had trouble finding someone willing to tow off the wreck.

So we stayed alive, and just seemed to live from disaster to disaster. School was the same way. Dad moved to get us into a better school, and they changed the boundaries. It was Brenna, my younger sister, whose cello bow goosed the grade-school principal and caused him to trip over the drummer, landing on Bobby Harrison's flugelhorn. At which point he said all sorts of bad words that were broadcast through the auditorium because the microphone got turned on when he grabbed the stand as he fell. While the parents and most of the School Board were at assembly.

Between problems we did pretty well. Dad's a senior construction foreman, and makes really good money. And he works for the state, so we get great benefits, which is good because we need them. Mom is a real-estate appraiser and agent, and president of the local women's rights group. Which has earned Dad his dinner in his hair more than once, because Dad tends to crack construction-worker jokes about women at the wrong times. Like when she can hear them.

Now from our names you might think that we're all freckled redheads. Ever hear of the Black Irish?" Think of Elizabeth Taylor. Thick, wavy black hair and nearly flawless white skin. Mom is a real beauty. Tall and strong and shaped like, well, Elizabeth Taylor. Maybe more so. Dad is just an inch taller, and not much heavier. He's got stronger arms, but she's got stronger legs. And an attitude. My sisters and I all let our hair grow long and wild, and just loved the complements.

Anyway, I had survived sixth grade and the school was still standing when I started my summer vacation. Brenna complained that I set such a bad example everyone was afraid to get near her. You'd think they would have gotten over my tripping on Melinda's cast in fifth grade and dumping the contents of the pencil sharpener all over Mrs. Martinez's new white dress. And it wasn't my fault that Mr. Gregory, the sixth-grade teacher, forgot to tell me not to wash the plaster-of-Paris from our dinosaur project down the sink. After all, he was the one that left the water on all weekend. Then there was the mix-up where I gave Andy the plant food instead of the fish food for the big display tank. The guppies and snails loved the algae. Even if it bubbled over the top and down the bookshelves during spring vacation.

Right after school was out we all got our annual physicals and were pronounced terminally healthy. Dr. Mitchell said I was a bit late on puberty, but Dad said he was a late starter, so no one seemed worried. The idea of shaving really didn't thrill me, so I didn't much care. Brenna complained she needed to get started because she was, in her words, still flat as a door. DeeDee told her to enjoy being able to run, and see her feet while she could.

See, DeeDee is really, well, big where most girls like to be big. Dad had to ban her from visiting him at work 'cause too many of his guys got hurt, watching her instead of what they were doing. And Mom almost had a seizure, then threw a cat-fit when DeeDee came home from the beach wearing a new one-piece backless and nearly topless thong swimsuit. She said it made her feel feminine. Mom said she was a disgrace to the women's movement. DeeDee said Mom was jealous. I just wondered why anyone would wear something designed to give them a wedgie.

But summer was when Mom and Dad were the busiest, so we were pretty much left on our own. And we were trustworthy and reliable. Even if accident prone. DeeDee had a steady boyfriend, Albert "Alley Cat" Andover, and so they got stuck baby-sitting Brenna and me. Which to them meant telling us we were dog-food if we disturbed them for anything less than a disaster. It didn't take me much more than a week to get enough incriminating pictures to blackmail them into providing us escort services to the beach and park. And an occasional ice cream cone.

It was just before the fourth of July that I noticed my chest was itching, and my nipples were puffy and tender. Now since Mom is just slightly more paranoid than the secret service, I didn't want to tell her or Dad. Back when DeeDee made the mistake of calling Mom for assistance in handling a nose bleed, Mom called 911 and we had police and EMT's all over the place. Dad almost went postal when he got the bill. If we got a cold, she assumed it was pneumonia. And a splinter meant blood poisoning and tetanus.

So I figured that since it had to do with nipples, I'd ask DeeDee, 'cause hers were huge. It was on a Tuesday morning, when Albert was stuck at home doing chores, that she agreed to play doctor. She was into melodrama, and set her bedroom up like an operating room out of some weird old movie. I made her take the pliers and saw back to Dad's shop before we started. And since Brenna was lonely and bored, she was deputized as DeeDee's nurse. I began to wonder if I was safe, as Brenna kept making "Scalpel, Dr. Frankenfurter?" comments.

I told Brenna that if she was going to watch me take my clothes off, she had to do the same. Instead of getting upset and leaving, she did. She was right. She was as flat as a door. DeeDee did a lot of snickering, and made me go behind the sheet she had put up, and strip to my shorts. When I was properly, as she put it, lying on the examining table, read her bed, they both came behind the sheet, and froze.

"Hey, Erin's got my tits! No wonder I'm so flat!" DeeDee just continued to stare for a moment, then came over and tried to play doctor. But she seemed upset, and asked Brenna to shut up.

"Erin, when did this start?" I told her what I had noticed, and she seemed way too attentive. "Um, you're not taking any weird drugs or something, are you?"

"You know me better than that." She nodded, as I hated medicines. "Hey, is there really something wrong with me?" I was getting scared.

"I don't think it's anything dangerous, but give me a minute to think." She stood quietly with her eyes closed and then smiled. "Well, there are several things I can check. How does this feel?" She very gently massaged my nipples, and I quivered when little tingles ran all over me, especially in my crotch. And my nipples suddenly got bigger and firmer. She just nodded and probed my chest, telling me to indicate where things were tender. I was surprised that Brenna was being quiet and paying careful attention.

"Erin, do you play with yourself?" I turned bright red and suddenly found I was hard and sticking out of my underwear. When I reached down to put things back where they belonged, she swatted my hands. "No you don't. I'm not finished." I wanted to sink into her bed. "Now answer my question. Do you?" I managed to nod, and Brenna giggled. "Brenna, I know you do it all the time, so don't make any comments." Brenna turned beet red, and tried to hide behind DeeDee.

"Hey, you said you wouldn't tell anyone." DeeDee snorted.

"Everyone does it." She turned back to me. "Um, have you been, like, really needing to jerk off since this started?" I nodded. It was like I was horny all the time. I wondered how she knew so much about boys. Then I remembered Albert.

I should have been paying attention, as the next thing she did was yank off my shorts, leaving me pointing at the ceiling. "Hey, don't..." She grabbed me by the penis and told me not to move. A hard squeeze got the point over really clearly. And having her holding me was making me harder. "Aarrghhh!"

"So that's what a boy looks like when he's horny." Brenna came over for a close look. I wanted to die. Here I was naked and being examined in places they shouldn't ever see by my sisters. DeeDee chortled again. And gave Brenna an anatomy lesson. I should have shrunk into nothingness from embarrassment, but it seemed that I was unable to control my privates.

"Now remember, boys come in all sizes. Erin is really small, cause he hasn't reached puberty yet..." She suddenly paused and looked at my chest. "And some are really big, like Albert." She used her free hand to indicate Albert was like three or four inches longer than me, and much bigger around. That was embarrassing, and things finally started to shrink. She managed another snicker. "Watch this." She used both hands to softly stroke me, and then leaned over and started to suck on one of my nipples. I went off like a well shaken, over-warm bottle of soda. I guess that I made a lot of noises and really strange faces, because when I returned to reality, Brenna had her hand in her panties, and was muttering something about being too young. DeeDee was using my shorts to clean up the mess.

I managed to grab a pillow and put it over my crotch. "Why did you do that? I'm your brother and..."

"And I bet you enjoyed it a whole lot." I shut up, because she was right. "I'm pretty sure I know what's wrong with your chest, so go get a clean pair of underwear and get back in here." I got. When I returned, Brenna was on the bed, and playing really fast with herself. DeeDee waited till her eyes were closed, and pulled off Brenna's panties.

She stopped rubbing and covered herself, but was bouncing up and down. "No, please, not now, please, like I'm so close." She was begging and wiggling her hips.

"You got to watch Erin, he gets to watch you." Brenna made a bunch of noises that sounded like things requiring a mouth-full of soap, and then moaned like she was in pain, closed her eyes, and started rubbing again. I was startled when she made several fingers disappear, and she bucked and whimpered, and quivered, then sort of dissolved into the mattress.

"That looked like fun." DeeDee moved Brenna's hands out of the way and I got my first close look at that part of a girl. She had only a couple of tiny hairs, and was all puffy and wet. And smelled funny, which would have made me horny again but things were still too relaxed.

Brenna managed to get the pillow and cover herself. "Wow, like does having a boy watch always make it that good?" DeeDee giggled again. I wondered if it was time for me to escape.

"Brenna, go get washed up and put on a clean pair of panties. We need to get back to Erin's problem, then I have one of my own to take care of." She seemed to be rubbing her legs together, and I realized she was so horny she was shaking.

"Um, like why don't you take care of yourself and tell me later?"

"Cause I want your help. You're the reason I'm dripping." She suddenly pulled off her shirt and with a great stretch took off her bra. Her nipples looked like little mountains, She pulled off her pants and panties, and lay back on the bed. Her crotch was a glistening wet mass of dark curls. "Well don't just stand there," she sat up and grabbed my arm, pulling me to her. She pulled my head to her breasts. "Do to me what I did to you." I made hand sliding on shaft motion, and she shook her head, and giggled. "No dummy, nurse on my breasts." That was something I had fantasized about. So I played vacuum and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, and started softly nursing and running my tongue over her nipple. She moaned and jammed her hands into her crotch.

I was shocked to see Brenna come over, look jealous, and then attach herself to DeeDee's other breast. DeeDee arched upward, forcing her breasts against us, and started to gasp and quiver and then act like she was having a seizure. When she finally quieted down I figured she was done, but suddenly she started in again and this time we had to hold her to keep her from bouncing off the bed. She went through at least three or four repeat performances before going limp and starting to breathe slowly and deeply.

"Is she okay?" I looked at Brenna, who nodded.

"Wow, I've heard about multiple orgasms, but that must have been incredible. I can't wait till I've got a boyfriend to suck on my boobs, when I finally get some." I stared at her in shock. "Hey, girls get horny too." I wondered what was happening. "She's out like a rock. So want to do your thing again, or go get a snack and wait for DeeDee to recover?" It was a difficult choice. But I was having moral problems and decided I needed time to think.

It was almost noon, and we decided to make lunch. I was setting out the grilled cheese sandwiches when Brenna escorted a contented looking DeeDee, now dressed, into the kitchen.

"That was the best I have ever come in my whole life." She sort of oozed into her chair. "Albert better get with the program, or he's history." She looked at me. "Too bad you're my brother. I could stand to do that a lot." She started in on her sandwich, and Brenna and I devoured ours.

"Um, you said you know what's wrong with me?" It was later and we were sitting in the family room, sipping on iced tea and watching cartoons. DeeDee nodded, and turned off the tube.

"Erin, what is happening is that you are growing breasts. Exactly the same way that I did when I was twelve." I stared at her in shock. But it did make sense. Why was the question. "And though you didn't say anything, it also looks like you're getting a girl's hips and thighs and butt."

"I still say it's unfair." Brenna was pouting. "He's a boy and only us girls need boobs, and I want mine now!" It was so funny both DeeDee and I laughed. She tried to look upset, but finally slid to the floor laughing.

"DeeDee, she's right about one thing. Boy's don't need breasts. But I'm a boy and if she's right, that's what's happening." DeeDee looked at me with sympathy in her eyes.

"Erin, I know that. We need to do some research and find out what could be causing this. But until we find out, you need to take care of them." She pointed at my chest "And keep them hidden or Mom is going to have you hauled off to the hospital." She paused. "And both of you need to keep what we did a secret, cause we're not supposed to do things like that. Even if they were wonderful." We all agreed it was our secret, and no one else's.

After checking the weather, DeeDee suggested we try the computer. Brenna decided she needed a nap, and when we watched her walk away, we commented, loudly, that she had other plans. She stopped, grinned at us, and then dashed off to her room. A couple of hours later we were going over some of the information I had found, and I was beginning to wonder if someone had it in for me.

"DeeDee, it appears I have exactly two choices. Tell Mom and Dad, and become a science experiment for a bunch of doctors, or wait and keep things hidden, and see if everything goes back to normal."

"No such luck, because you have to take gym in seventh grade, and a guy with tits is going to, pardon the pun, stick out in a crowd." I managed a groan for several reasons. "So I recommend that you and I go see Dr. Mitchell tomorrow, on our own, and ask what you should do. That way he can handle how to tell Mom, and maybe we won't get caught in the fireball." I had to agree with her analysis. "And make sure you wear a soft undershirt. When they are that size anything rough can drive you nuts." This I had already gathered.

We carefully put away the printed stuff, and after getting Brenna up, started on dinner so it would be ready when Mom and Dad got home. When I finally got to bed just after ten, I pulled out the computer stuff, and went over it again. There were a couple of really nasty diseases and conditions listed, but none seemed to fit. I briefly pictured how I would look if I got as big as DeeDee, and whimpered. She could do push-ups by taking a deep breath.

The next morning Albert showed up minutes after Mom and Dad left, and when he and DeeDee managed to pry their faces apart, said he was going to be our escort for the day. DeeDee had promised not to tell him about my problem, so I sicced Brenna on him to make sure he was busy. We took the bus into town, and Albert wound up taking Brenna to the park.

Dr. Mitchell's nurse was really surprised to see us there without Mom, but when we quietly explained why we were there, she said she understood, and soon we were in a room where I got the usual temp and questions from one of the technicians. We thought it would be a long wait, but within a few minutes Dr. Mitchell and the nurse came in, and shooed DeeDee out.

"Well Erin, Ginny says that you are having some problems with your chest, and want to know what to do so your Mom won't go off and call out the National Guard." He had been our family physician since we were born, and had lived through several of Mom's tantrums. "So what I need you to do is take off all your clothes, and sit on the examination table."

When I turned around after complying, I saw the surprise in their eyes as they looked at my chest. "Well, it seems that DeeDee does not have the Murphy family patent on breast development after all." The nurse and I both groaned, and he smiled. "So now for the examination..." I wondered if it were possible for me to get more embarrassed. And added prostate massage with a nurse present to the list of things to avoid. But on the list it was after the place where "give blood" was located. I was told to get dressed, and relax in the waiting room.

"Well, what did he say?" DeeDee was starting to sound like Mom. So I repeated Dr. Mitchell's comment about breasts, and she chuckled. "And he said he won't really know anything for certain until all the blood tests come back. But he agrees that Mom and Dad have to know, and he'll do the notification when we are out of the line of fire."

"Erin?" One of the techs came out to get me, and we both went to meet with Dr. Mitchell.

"I just got off the telephone with a colleague at the University hospital. She wants to see you, at no charge to you or your parents, as soon as possible. So with your permission, I want to call your father right now, and explain what is happening, and see if he can take you to see her at the university tomorrow." DeeDee and I exchanged glances.

"Does this mean I'm gonna die?" It came out really scared, 'cause I was.

"No, and in fact she said that based on my findings so far, you are probably going to turn out really healthy overall. But the devil is in the details, like appearance. Now about that call...?"

I was glad he used the speaker phone. Dad makes some really weird sounds when he gets upset. But Dad agreed to take off work tomorrow, and to say nothing to Mom until he was sure what was happening. So when we left the doctor's office, we headed to the park to collect Brenna, and what was left of Albert. Seems that a dozen or so of Brenna's friends showed up, and since he was the only older kid...

Albert and DeeDee headed off on their own after we got home, and Brenna and I spent the rest of the afternoon reading and playing scrabble. For a girl she is really tough competition. Dad brought home dinner, and drew me aside to say that he loved me and understood how hard it must be for me. So I hauled him up to my room, and we talked about what was happening. He seemed a lot better when he realized I wasn't panicked or anything, just worried sick.

The next day Albert and DeeDee stayed with Brenna. The weather was icky, which meant Dad had to keep all his attention on the road. That was okay, because I had a lot of thinking to do. We arrived just on time, and found we were expected. Dr. Southerland turned out to be an older woman with a wonderful smile who told Dad I would be with her for at least a couple of hours, and suggested he get some lunch, as she would feed me while we talked. She said she was something she described as an endocrinologist, a doctor who specialized in the little chemical signals that tell the body what to do and how to grow. Dad seemed to understand, and left me with her.

"Well, Erin, why don't you tell me in your own words what is happening to your body?"

She took a lot of notes and asked a bunch of questions, and then had me strip, and did a really quick exam. When she finished the exam, she pulled out some measuring tools, and took all sorts of weird measurements from my toes to my hair. "Time to get dressed while I have one of my assistants run these through the computer. How does a cheeseburger and fries sound for lunch?" We continued her question and answer session at the hospital cafeteria.

When we got back to her office, Dad was waiting, and she invited him in while she looked over a bunch of information. "Mr. Murphy, what has Dr. Mitchell told you about Erin's situation?"

"Just that he has recently started to develop breasts, which although unusual, is not always a sign of something dangerously wrong in a teenage boy. And that you specialize in chemical imbalances that can cause things like this to happen." Dad was acting way too calm, and I had the feeling he was awfully worried about me.

"Well, he is partly right, at least about the medical aspects of Erin's condition. According to the test results, and both Dr. Mitchell's and my examinations, Erin is in excellent overall health. The laboratory results confirmed what I initially had suspected when Dr. Mitchell described Erin's situation to me over the telephone." She looked straight at me. "Erin, are you ready to know what I have found?" It didn't sound good, but I nodded.

"With the exception of a couple of hormone levels, all of the lab tests came back normal. Including the check on your DNA to make sure that you had no abnormal chromosome counts or gross abnormalities." That made me feel a lot better, because weird chromosomes were one of the nastier possibilities listed on the Internet, and would mean all sorts of other problems later. "You levels of testosterone and its metabolites are quite a bit lower than normal for a boy your age, but above the critical range. Your estrogen levels, estrogen being a female hormone that is present in all men, usually in very small quantities, are very high. They are in fact in the upper range for a teenage girl entering puberty." Dad made a funny sound, and I had visions of watermelons where I now was only slightly bulging.

"Mr. Murphy, I need to know something about your and your wife's family histories..." She asked Dad a lot of questions that made little sense to me, but the answers apparently were quite important to her. When she finished, she sat and thought for a bit.

"Erin, please take what I am about to say at face value. I cannot provide a firm diagnosis without significantly more information, most of which can only be collected over time. Your condition, if my educated guess in correct, is neither unique or dangerous. But it is going to have a tremendous impact on your life." I got a really chilly feeling, like she was about to tell me I was going turn into a toad or something worse. "And at the present time there are no treatments I would recommend that can change what your body is doing. Despite what you may read or see on television, usually the best course of action when something like this occurs is to let nature alone." I started to cry, and Dad hugged me.

"In brief, you have what is most likely a genetically derived hormonal imbalance. Your Murphy's Law jokes earlier may be far more correct than you thought. Because unless your hormonal balance changes, either on its own or -- and I do not recommend it -- through hormonal manipulation, your body is going to develop as if you were a young woman of the same genetic heritage."

Dad groaned and hugged me tighter and started to give me all sorts of sympathy as I stared at her. "You mean I'm going to turn into another DeeDee!?"

"It is very, very unlikely you will develop breasts to rival those you have described as belonging to your sister, but otherwise her appearance, and that of your mother and other female relatives may well be a guide to what you will look like in a couple of years." She paused. "The good news is that boys with what I believe is your particular condition are often fertile, and their male children, if they choose to have children, have only a moderate risk of developing the same condition.

The bad news is that you are going to find fitting in at school, and into society, very difficult and challenging. Our so-called liberal country is not very tolerant of people outside the norm, and boys who are very feminine are often ostracized and mistreated. So I am going to write up a consultation to a psychiatrist in your area who is familiar with boys like you, and I strongly recommend you make good use of his services."

"You are saying that Erin is going to grow up looking like a girl, breasts and all?"

She looked at Dad. "With the exception of his male genitalia, which are most likely not going to get much larger, very much so. You need to understand that he is already in need of a bra, which will make hiding his condition difficult. All the more reason for him to see Dr. Summers as soon as possible. He should be able to provide a lot of help with Erin's social needs.

I want to enroll Erin into my research, which will mean that his medical expenses, at least relating to this, will be free, and he will have access to resources that would be prohibitively expensive, if even available, were he not listed as a research subject. And no, we won't be feeding him drugs or dissecting him, just taking regular blood samples and measurements, and following his progress until he turns eighteen, and perhaps longer if he decides to remain a part of our studies."

Dad asked a bunch of questions that I didn't register, as I was trying to figure out what all this meant to me. I didn't want to be a girl. And wear a bra? Yeech. So I was pretty down when we finally left Dr. Southerland's office, and Dad escorted me back to his car.

"Erin, if what she says is true, well, we, your Mom and I, will do everything we can to help..."

"How can you help? She said that I was healthy, and my only problem is I am turning into my own sister. So what are you going to do, buy me a dress?" The moment it came out of my mouth I knew the answer. And started to cry.

Dad waited until I regained my composure, and said that whatever had to be done would be done, and I would be seeing this Dr. Summers as soon as possible. It was a wet and unhappy trip home. Mom was waiting for us, and immediately started with her stream of questions when she saw my face. Dad, for once, told her to shut up and listen, and dragged her out to the car with him.

DeeDee and Brenna took one look at me, and I found myself at the kitchen table being fed fresh cookies and hugs. They said they wanted to know what had happened, but that it could wait until I was feeling better. When we heard Dad's car drive off, and Brenna checked and said Mom was with him, I knew it was going to be a long evening. The three of us wound up in DeeDee's room, sitting on her bed. I was hugging Buggs, my big stuffed fuzzy beetle, and Brenna decided she needed her old security blanket. DeeDee was the first to say anything. "Well, it's time to get it off your chest." When she realized what she had said we all got a badly needed laugh.

"..and she says that although I probably won't grow super big boobs like yours, in a couple of years we may look an awful lot alike." Brenna was muttering about wanting a transplant, but DeeDee seemed thoughtful.

"No, there I think she's wrong. But then she's never seen anyone in the family but you and Dad. Be right back." She got up and headed out the door.

"Erin, does this mean I'm going to have two older sisters?" Brenna looked really unhappy. "I really like having an older brother." I gave her a hug, and said I wasn't going to run off and change. Which made me wonder just what I was going to do. DeeDee came back in with the family photo album.

"You and I don't even look that much alike, except for the pale skin and black hair, which we all have. So lets see which relatives you resemble most." We looked through the album, and Brenna got all upset when she found pictures of Aunt Abigail, Mom's footloose older sister, who looked just like Brenna as a kid, and who was obviously as flat as a board in her graduation picture from college.

"Bingo!" DeeDee and Brenna were both pointing to the same set of pictures. They were of Dad's father's family a couple of generations back. Several of the group, and one of the individual photos showed a boy named Corwyn, who could have been my twin, long hair and all, except for the formal tweed coat and shorts.

"But he's a boy, and we're looking for girls."

"What about her?" Brenna pointed to a strongly built, tall young woman in another of the family pictures. Her face was very similar to mine. "Bet there are some pictures of her when she was younger. Let's see, her name is..." She counted heads and referred to the list at the bottom of the picture. "Cathryne. Cathryne O'Connor Murphy."

"So get looking for a younger picture of her." We searched the collection, and found nothing. "Well, if she is in that family picture, maybe there is an earlier picture."

"I checked, but she's part of the same family as Corwyn..." There was a pregnant silence. "Oh My God..." DeeDee and I almost tore the album getting out the earlier family pictures. Corwyn was not in any of the later pictures. And Cathryne was missing from the early ones. When we checked the back of a different earlier picture, we found the Corwyn's full name. Corwyn O'Connor Murphy.

"So I'm not the first..." I stared at the picture. She was not a beautiful woman, but was far from ugly either. And she had a pretty big chest, although no where as big as DeeDee's. "I wonder why Dad didn't mention her to Dr. Southerland?"

"Probably because no one told him about her. Or it was mentioned when he was a little kid. They didn't advertise things like that back then."

"At least she has boobs." Brenna was getting paranoid. "You don't know what it's like being the flattest girl in her class." She saw the look I gave her, and shut up.

"So now that you've found what you think I will look like when I grow up, let's get back to what is important. Like what am I going to do? Dr. Southerland even said I already need to start wearing a bra, and no comments from the flatlands, Brenna."

I was being pummeled by a pillow until DeeDee got Brenna from behind, and pinned her arms. "Enough squirt. This is Erin's show, not yours. Besides, if you're that desperate we will buy you a padded bra when we go shopping for Erin's real ones."

"What makes you think I am going bra shopping?"

"What makes you think you aren't?" She had a point. And I had two of them.

DeeDee started in on how much fun it would be to take me shopping for a complete new wardrobe. Which got me all upset, so she finally suggested we get to sleep before Mom and Dad got home. That sounded good, and at Brenna's suggestion we all went and changed and then snuggled together on DeeDee's bed.

Mom and Dad woke us in the morning, and both looked like they had been up most of the night. Mom managed to keep her speech to less than five minutes. Dad said he was going to call Dr. Summers from work, and that his and Mom's recommendation was that we don't tell anyone else, and try to go on enjoying the summer. They headed off for work, and right on time Albert showed up to meet DeeDee. The weather was as bad as yesterday, so we spent the day reading. Well, Brenna and I were reading. DeeDee and Albert were locked in her room, and we were warned that to disturb them for anything less than a disaster would be disastrous for us.

After a long talk with DeeDee that night, I agreed she could tell Albert about what was happening to me, since he was almost like one of the family, and then I wouldn't have to worry about trying to conceal things from him. When she did the next day, he sort of freaked, and then decided that it was just fallout from DeeDee. Which got him pounded on by Brenna.

So went the next couple of weeks. Talk about monsoon season. Glub. Dad found out that Dr. Summers first opening was when he returned from vacation in Mid-August, and I was therefore scheduled for a three-hour initial appointment on a Wednesday morning in late August. It was still dismal out when, just before the end of July, Albert came over one morning and asked all of us if we wanted to make a bunch of money over the upcoming weekend.

"My sister Renée' works for a real estate firm, and a family suddenly moved out of one of their units without taking their stuff, and stuck the real estate company for several months rent. She says they will pay us two hundred dollars, that's like fifty each, if we sort everything out this weekend and bag it up so they can donate it to charity for a tax deduction. She even said that if there is anything we find we want, we can keep it for ourselves."

"Bet it is all stinky trash." Benda was holding her nose.

"Bet it's not. I asked. They were, according to her, big spenders with kids our age, and left all sorts of games and books and..." He never got to finish, because he had said the magic word. Books. So we immediately agreed to help. After he agreed to get his sister to transport us back with our treasures. And supply lunches.

Mom and Dad liked the idea of having a weekend free from the three of us, so early Saturday morning they headed somewhere for the day, and Renee collected all of us in her van and took us to the house. Inside we found they had at least been kind enough to empty the refrigerator, so there was nothing rotting. But the place was a mess, and we agreed to do one room at a time, starting with the kitchen.

Most everything was pretty ordinary, but I found a big pot I knew Mom would like, and DeeDee kept all the good cooking knives. Their taste in furniture was awful. Same with music. And they had taken the stereo and TV and all the videos. But there were lots and lots of books, some even worth reading, and soon each of us had a couple of boxes of reading material packed and ready for winter survival. We ate the boxed lunches that Renee brought by, and nearly sank her van with the books. It took the rest of the day to finish the downstairs, but when we were done there was nothing left lying around, and we resolved to complete the job early enough on Sunday that we could get home to watch cartoons.

Mom and Dad got home late, and seemed, well, relaxed. They didn't even complain at the huge stack of book boxes in the family room. Much.

Sunday we got up early, and sore, and I complained to DeeDee that every time certain things, which had gotten quite a bit bigger, jiggled, I hurt. So she shimmied and jiggled, and I got sympathy pains. I had the feeling that if Brenna could jiggle I would feel the movement. Both of them refused me any sympathy, and reminded me that I still needed to go bra shopping. Which didn't help at all.

The master bedroom was full of expensive clothes for an overweight woman and pot-bellied man. Absolutely useless. Except for some scarves and enough makeup and beauty supplies to fill a large box. "At what this stuff costs I'm keeping everything until I can go through it carefully." DeeDee showed me the price on a small bottle of nail polish, and I gulped. "Like being a girl can get expensive." I wondered if Dad had budgeted a doubling of my allowance. And they both had to hold me while I cried.

We saved all the towels and most of the clean linens. The sheets were either all pure cotton or satin, and ours were getting pretty well worn. DeeDee tried to lay claim to all the satin stuff for her and Albert. No luck. Albert found a bunch of magazines hidden in a drawer, and refused to show Brenna and me, saying they were for adults only. When I heard DeeDee say they should try some of the positions, I got embarrassed, and horny, and then my chest started to ache worse. Arrgh!

One bedroom set up as a study area with two desks. The games were not as advertised. Mostly stuff that was really violent, or so dumb even a sixth-grader like Brenna would be bored. We found a lot of older boys stuff in the next bedroom, and Albert collected all the good items, including some sporting gear that was almost new. I tried to claim a little, but he and DeeDee pointed out that I was not going to be doing contact sports with my boobs. They had to hold me while I leaked tears again, and apologized for the way they said it, even if it was the truth.

The final bedroom belonged to a teenage girl about DeeDee's age, but a little taller. And much flatter. "Darn, and she had really good taste in clothes. The stuff in this closet alone cost more than everything I own, including my bras." Mom was always complaining that DeeDee's custom made bras were draining the family till.

But DeeDee was right. Unlike the boy's stuff, which mostly resembled what the skater's and grunge types wore, the things in this room were conservative and nice. I had just started to box up the stuff from the closet when Brenna screamed, and pointed at me. I couldn't figure out what was wrong, and started looking for a big bug when DeeDee muttered "Oh My God..." and then Albert managed an "Urk!"

"Okay, what's the big joke? Do I have a spider in my hair, or..."

"Without changing what you are carrying, go look in the closet mirror." DeeDee was having trouble speaking. One look and my world got very fuzzy, and I had to sit on the bed before I fell down. In the process of folding the clothes into the boxes, I had been holding them against me, and the dress I was holding was at just the right position to cover what I was wearing.

"She was the same size as you, maybe a bit bigger. And you need to go shopping..."

"Wait a minute, I'm not going to be wearing a dress..." The look in all three of their eyes told me I was in deep, deep trouble.

"I'll bet she even left you some bras that are the right size..." Brenna searched one of the dressers, and pulled out several bras that looked way too much like they would fit.

"You wouldn't dare..."

Fifteen minutes of fruitless argument later, Albert was consigned to hauling boxes from the other rooms down to the living room for pickup, and I was whimpering in embarrassment as DeeDee and Brenna carefully selected a complete girl's outfit for me to try on. DeeDee went back downstairs, and rescued the box of women's shoes from the main bedroom, saying the mother's feet were about the same size as mine. They even found me a panty girdle in the bedroom that they said would hide everything.

"Well, at least let me get dressed for my execution in private."

"Do you know how to put on a bra and girdle?"

"What's so hard about that?"

I had to ask them for help. The girdle did exactly as advertised. But when DeeDee finished hooking and adjusting the bra, I realized that everyone was right about my needing one. It felt so soft and, well, comforting on my breasts, and held them up and firm so they didn't jiggle too much or hurt when I moved. But when I looked in the mirror they now looked lots bigger. And with the girdle, there was no way anyone was going to believe I was a boy.

I spent a lot of tears sitting on the bed, being hugged by DeeDee and Brenna. Albert hollered that we needed to get our buns moving, so against my feeble protests they pried me up, and started on what I had dreaded since Dr. Southerland had told me what my body was doing. When I carefully walked into the hall, balancing in the high-heeled boots that actually fit me, Albert almost tripped on his tongue. The image I had seen in the mirror was someone else. A sad-faced teenage girl with two, thick, jet-black braids, courtesy of Brenna, and pale white skin.

When he found his voice, Albert echoed the same statements that Brenna and DeeDee had made. "You really do look right as a girl. Heck, there will be guys tripping all over themselves to ask for dates."

I was going to kick him, but I was afraid I'd fall over. "I don't want boys to ask me for dates. And the other kids are going to laugh me out of school and..."

"Erin, they won't laugh," said DeeDee. "Everyone, including Brenna and me, thought you would wind up looking like the boy you, in a skirt and blouse. But you really look good. Better than me in a lot of ways."

"I've got to get out of these clothes before someone sees me and..."

"No." We all stared at Albert. "Erin, it is time to quit hiding and hoping what is happening to you is all a bad dream." He went over to DeeDee and gave her a hug. "When my Mom got cancer everyone tried to pretend she was going to get better, even when the doctors said she was dying. One of Dad's friends finally took all of us to a counselor, who got us to face reality, and helped all of us learn to accept what we couldn't change."

"And it was Albert that got me to quit whining about having the biggest boobs in school. Partly because he likes them like this." DeeDee stuck out her chest, and Albert smiled. "But mostly because he saw me hurting myself because I was embarrassed and ashamed of how I looked." She gave him a kiss. "So it's not just my body he likes." Brenna coughed, and I felt like I was the bad guy all of a sudden.

"But what are the other kids going to say..." DeeDee just shook her head.

"They will say anything they want. But you don't have to validate them. How often do boys go "moo" when I walk by?" She had a point. "I used to get really upset. But now I can just ignore them, or consider it a complement. So I now dress to show them off, not hide them under a sack. Besides, they're more comfortable with really good support."

"But I need to get changed because Renee will be here in a few minutes, and..."

"And it is time that you realize this is, at least in clothing, your future. So this is how you are going to be dressed when Renee picks us up, and when Mom and Dad get home." She turned to the others. "Everything in here, plus the shoes, is going home with us. It will save Mom and Dad and Erin a fortune, and I'll bet Mom and Dad will be willing to use the money they save to buy us new computers."

"But I don't want..."

"Stuff it, little brother. I'm right and you know it. So let's get working. No, wait, you can't do much dressed up like that without killing yourself. So you get to fold stuff while the rest of us slave." It felt really strange to be several inches taller. And feeling the stockings rub against each other as I moved was way too erotic. I kept looking in the mirror expecting to see a clown, but the same pretty, sad-faced girl kept looking back.

When Renee arrived and went to check out the place she asked who I was, saying it looked like we were related, and wanted to know where was Erin hiding. Then she realized that I was Erin, and got all weird and finally wound up threatening to strangle Albert unless he explained what was going on, and fast. He did, and when he finished she checked me over carefully.

"Incredible. And they're real?" She was pointing to my chest. When I nodded, she managed a "Wow, and like there's nothing you can do...?" I shook my head. "Well, that's a new one for me. The guys I know at the college who wear skirts are gay, or trying to become girls, or are just plain goofy. And I'll bet most of them would give anything to look as good as you."

"I don't want to look good. I want to look like me!" I realized how stupid that sounded, and cringed. "Wait a minute, what guys at college..." I was not the only one staring at her.

She giggled. "They don't teach kids your age about such things. You all know about homosexuals?" We all nodded. "Well, there are also gay guys that dress like girls, and gay girls that dress like guys, and a few guys that are trying to become girls for real, like growing breasts and having surgery to cut things off." Albert and I both turned green. "There's even one girl in the dorms that had her breasts removed and is taking hormones so she can grow a beard."

"Eewh, that sounds horrible." DeeDee was holding her chest protectively.

"Can they do transplants?" Trust Brenna to come up with something like that.

DeeDee and I provided raspberries. Renee checked me over again, and shook her head. "Now, is the work done?" We showed her around, and she said we'd done more than expected. "The people from the charity will be by tomorrow to collect all the furniture and boxes. So you each get fifty dollars, as promised, and my boss said that I can take you out to dinner, on the company, as a reward, and as a bribe so you will be willing to do this again for them."

The others got excited, then looked at me. Brenna piped up "What about Erin, like he can't go out to dinner like this, 'cause Mom and Dad are going to freak anyway, and..."

"And it doesn't matter any more." They stopped talking and stared at me, and I waved at myself. "Murphy's Law, remember? Nothing fatal, just totally absurd and embarrassing. Like how Dad got his purple hearts." Even Renee knew that story. "So fighting this won't do me a bit of good. I guess it's time I face the fact that the Leprechaun outdid himself again."

DeeDee explained the molested leprechaun theory, which made Renee go into hysterics.

"So this is as good a time as any to go public. If someone kills me then I won't have to worry any more. And since we aren't paying for dinner, how does the Flaming Dragon sound?" That ended the discussion. We managed to fit in the van despite the collection of boxes, and Renee insisted that I sit in front, saying she didn't want me to mess up my outfit. Which made me realize I had a lot of things to learn about how to be a girl.

DeeDee called home from the restaurant and left a message telling parents where we were, and that we would be home after dinner. The place was busy, but no one seemed to notice anything odd about our group, and we wound up in a secluded booth, enjoying the best oriental food in the whole area. Renee recommended I tuck a napkin in my cleavage to keep the food where it belonged, and after I finished blushing, I took her suggestion and went back to savoring one of my shrimp. Somehow my problems seemed a lot less important when my stomach was happy.

We had to stay put and digest before we were able to get the enthusiasm to move. Even Brenna's comment that I would need to watch my figure if I kept stuffing myself didn't get more than a quiet groan.

As we were leaving, Jimmy Waburn, one of DeeDee's friends, came over and asked to be introduced to her cute relative. I got ready to die, but she played it cool and told him I was too young for him. He gave me a checkover, and told DeeDee to give him a call when I was, as he put it, legal. I started to launch a kick at him as he left, but Brenna stopped me and said it was a compliment. We were in the van and on our way out of the lot when he came running back out of the restaurant with a very strange look on his face.

"Nice delayed reaction." Renee was chuckling. "I'll bet you were scared shitless."

"I'm going to die..."

"You're going to be fine, DeeDee assured me. "At least until Mom and Dad see you."

"Maybe I can stay with Albert till I can get bus tickets to Canada. I wonder if fifty dollars will be enough."

Albert snickered. "Not a chance. DeeDee would be jealous. And the ticket will cost at least a hundred. Besides, you're too pretty to hide." He wasn't helping a bit. I looked at the others for help, and they shook their heads.

Dad's car was in the driveway, and Renee said she and Albert would do the unloading while we were scraping our parents off the ceiling. Pictures of Mom being hauled off in a straight jacket appeared, and when I told the others, they almost lost it laughing. So it was with great trepidation that we headed inside.

Brenna made a fast dash to the bathroom, mumbling something about a fallout shelter. So it was just DeeDee and me, and after a hug she nudged me towards the living room where the executioners awaited.

It is an old comment, but I wish someone had a camera when my identity finally sank into my parents consciousness. Dad wound up sitting there mumbling to himself, and Mom, after assorted screeches, tried to drown me in hugs and tears. Brenna came in once she decided it was safe, and she and DeeDee finally got Dad back to where he could talk, then pried Mom off me and sat her down next to Dad.

"Erin, we, I..." Dad was still having problems

"You look so..., so... natural." Mom was acting stranger than usual.

"Mom, Erin is not dead." DeeDee was laughing. "That's what you say at a funeral, and I guarantee the dead don't eat as much as he did tonight."

"You are wearing a dress. And heels. And they look like they fit." Dad was starting to recover. "And you went out to dinner which means people saw you like that and... Oh My God, what are your mother and I going to do?" Mom was nodding.

"How about just giving Erin your support, and giving him a break so he can get to the bathroom." I don't know how she knew, but as soon as she said it, I desperately needed to pee. So I quit worrying about how I was dressed, and headed for the bathroom. I almost didn't get the damned panty hose and girdle down in time, and had to sit so I wouldn't water my feet. Then it took several minutes to get everything back in place. No wonder girls took so long.

When I returned, Mom insisted I stay standing and carefully examined me from head to toe. Dad just sat there shaking his head. I knew things were working their way back to normal when Mom commented that I needed to shave my legs. Which made DeeDee and Brenna laugh, and Dad turn green.

"Molly, boys don't shave their legs."

"It is time we face the facts, Sean, and accept that Erin is now our daughter, whether or not we like the idea. And girls his age, make that her age, need to shave and..." Mom got tears in her eyes and held me. "And way too soon go out with boys, and..."

"MOM!" I screamed as loud as I could, which got everyone's attention, and cause mom to jump. "I am not gay. I do not have any interest in boys." She looked startled. "I am still the same Erin. No matter how I look."

"He's right, Molly." Dad got up and went to hold Mom. "We've been in denial about this too long, hoping it would all turn out to be some kind of bad dream. So the question now is what can we do to help Erin, and we can worry about things like leg hair later."

I wound up getting a lot of hugs, and far too many compliments about how good I looked. When DeeDee explained where we got the dress and shoes, Mom suggested we put everything in the spare bedroom. Renee and Albert had left the pile on the doorstep, so we did a quick transfer, and Mom and Dad decided that it was bedtime for everyone. Brenna offered to help me get out of the dress, and I gladly accepted. My feet ached from the heels, and the girdle was doing too good a job of squashing certain sensitive parts. But when I took off the bra, I realized that whatever happened, I was going to wear it tomorrow. I covered myself when the door popped open, and DeeDee came in, giggling and saying I now had more things to cover than I realized.

After she quit making comments about my lack of modesty, she handed me something, and dashed out. When I unfolded it, I found myself staring at the long flannel nightgown that was DeeDee's favorite before she got too big in the chest. I had the feeling that she meant it to be something comforting, and when I put it on it felt good, so I climbed into bed, snuggled up to Buggs, and let the fullness of my stomach put me to sleep.

I woke really early, and after I quit shaking from the realization that I was doomed to spend the rest of my youth as a girl, decided the weather was too good to waste on suicide. The report on the radio said clear and sunny all week. But when I looked at the bra I hated the idea of wearing a dress and heels out to play. Then it hit me, girls didn't always dress fancy. So I grabbed the bra, and after getting everything settled into place, checked my closet.

I had just finished getting dressed when DeeDee knocked, and asked if she could come in. "Sure, I'm ready to go."

She gave me a once-over, and lost her concerned expression. "So you realized that pretending to be a girl isn't all that bad."

"Wrong, bra-brain. I just realized that real girls don't run around looking like school teachers during the summer. Except for the chest protector, this is what I normally wear on a sunny day." I was dressed in a pair of cutoffs, my sandals, and one of my older T shirts that was a snug fit over my breasts. Which made me look just like most of the girls that usually were out playing on a day like today.

"And I have absolutely no intention of pretending to be a girl. I guess I'm going to get stuck using the girls washrooms 'cause it would start a riot if I headed into the boys room with these." I sort-of fondled my chest "And I plan on dressing to match my body. But I am not, in any way, going to start acting like an airheaded girl."

"You are going to need to learn to move and act like one, or you will stand out like a pink petuna in a field of bluebells."

"So I have gathered from yesterday." A lot of the spirit left me, and I sat on my bed. "And I can forget about a girlfriend, and probably most of the kids will treat me like I have AIDS and will avoid me."

"Don't bet too much on that." Mom and Dad were standing in the doorway. Mom came in and hugged us both. "Your father and I may be squares in your eyes, but we made it through college with all the rest of the crazies. Some people will get freaked, and some will say you're sick or whatever. But there are girls that like both boys and girls, and will probably consider you their dream come true. And by being real about who you are, your true friends won't let how you look come between you."

"We are going to call Dr. Southerland today for guidance, since Dr. Summers in not back in his office yet. But whatever you do, we love you and will do everything we can to help you fit in with your friends and school." Dad hugged Mom, and looked at me. "If I didn't know better, I would say you are a typical teenage girl heading off to play with her friends." Something twitched in my consciousness.

"Mom, Dad, I just realized something. Should I refer to myself as a girl or boy? I'm not going to become a girl up here" I tapped my forehead "but with boobs it's going to sound really funny if people have to say he instead of she."

"We have done a little reading about children like you, and it's your choice. We think it will be easier if you present yourself as a girl, because that is how most people will see you. What you tell others is up to you. And you will be able to use your medical problems as a reason for the clothes, and for justification, if needed, in using the girl's facilities. Or had you even considered that issue yet?"

We discussed bathroom logistics and gym while DeeDee went to get dressed, and wake up Brenna. Mom fixed us all breakfast, and suggested I be careful about venturing out in public if I was not really sure of what I was planning to do for the rest of my summer. They left for work, and Albert arrived shortly afterwards. He agreed I looked like a girl, and said he hated the idea of being cooped up baby-sitting on a nice day like today.

"We're not staying home." He and DeeDee looked at me questioningly. "I know what mom said about going out in public. But from now in this is the me they are going to see, and I'll bet everyone is at the park today. So let's get going before I chicken out and hide under my bed."

"You couldn't hide an ant under there." Brenna had obviously checked my collections of dust, and books, and... "And I want to go swimming, so you should bring your suits."

Everyone looked at me. "Oh oh.. I forgot about..." Brenna looked really unhappy.

"Wasn't there a swimsuit or two in the stuff from yesterday?" Brenna ran downstairs as DeeDee and Albert looked at me.

"Girls stuff won't fit right cause your private parts will show." I gave DeeDee a sour look, then shrugged.

"But my trunks still fit fine, all I need is something to cover my boobs. And unless I am really mistaken, the boy-trunks and bra-top are a current fashion."

"You know, it might just work..." Brenna hollered from the spare bedroom that she had located swimsuits, and came dashing in with several. And then mentioned I needed a shave. From the armpits down.

I felt really weird. The top was tiny and showed far too much of my chest. Which according to DeeDee was the way it was supposed to fit. But Albert said I looked fine, and so I packed the little piece of cloth in with my trunks and towel, and the huge bottle of sunblock, without which we would all be cinders in an hour, and headed to the park.

A whole lot of shocked people, and several zillion questions later, I knew who were my real friends. And there were more than I expected. Yes, there were a lot of "sick" "eweu gross" and "pervert" comments, more from the girls than the guys, but most people, after learning it was a medical problem, tried to drown me in sympathy. Which I finally had to stop by yelling at everyone to knock off with the pity party, cause I came her to play, not listen to everyone say how sorry they were. "Like I'm the one with the boobs, okay? And they don't make me a different person. Now anyone for a game of something?"

Mitch got out his soccer ball, and soon we were scrimmaging like usual. Everyone got really concerned when I hit the ground screaming after deflecting a shot, then the girls had a major laugh at my expense. So I had forgotten about the breasts, and blocked a shot with my chest. Boy, was that a learning experience.

When someone suggested a swim after we were too pooped to punt, I got another dose of sympathy, and some really weird looks when I used the girls changing rooms. But they agreed that my suit combination was, to quote "really cool". The water was really warm. And when standing in waist-deep water, I got hit on by several older guys that didn't know I was a boy. Before I went into a complete panic, DeeDee created a diversion by "accidentally" having her suit come loose. Shelly and Pam hustled me off to the side, and gave me a quick set of instructions in how to handle what they called testosterone-powered idiots. One of the older girls heard them, and after being told about my problem, she came up with a better idea.

So when the same chimpanzees came back after drooling over my sister's fake streak attempt, I was ready.

"Bill, this is her lucky day," bragged the most obnoxious of the troop. "I'm here without a girl, and since I'm the best looking guy here what say you pair up with me for the rest of today?"

"'Fraid you're not my type." He gave me a funny look.

"You prefer an intellectual?" The one speaking looked as intellectual as a lobotomized gerbil.

I reached over and pulled Shelly, who had agreed with great enthusiasm to help me deal with these idiots, into a close embrace and kiss. "Shel, when will all these stupid boys learn I only like girls?" The three guys looked totally disgusted, and climbed out of the pool muttering things about lesbians.

Shelly and Pam were giggling, and I felt good, because what I said was true. And Shelly did feel rather good, for that matter. It was mid-afternoon when we decided we were ready to find a cool place for some food. So we tromped the mile or so to the 31 Flavors, and had ice cream for lunch. Other than the others sneaking furtive glances at me, it was pretty much the same as usual.

Just before we all figured it was time to head home, Mitch came over and asked me to stand. So I got really nervous, and had to be careful not to return the pistachio cream and banana sundae I had just finished enjoying. "When I figured out that it was you with the tits in training, I thought you had gone psycho or something. But tits or not, you are the same goofy kid I've know since third grade. And I guess I can handle Erin as a girl's name. But if I see you going out with a boy, unless you give me a chance first, you are in deep trouble."

I stared at him and his smiling face. Mitch was gay?! I was gaping at him when he finally lost it, and slid to the floor laughing and apologizing. "Okay, I know it was a bad joke. But your are sort-of cute, and I just couldn't resist..." I managed to do a lot of sputtering.

When he stood up, it was payback time. So I gathered my courage, and wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled his neck. "Who said it was a joke?" He almost went into convulsions when I licked his neck, and I finally let go before he panicked. "Darn, another minute and you'd have wet yourself." I wiped my face. "But you're not my type at all. See, I really do like girls, and you're a bit flat for me."

That brought down the house, and I felt a lot better. Mitch, after he got his composure back, congratulated me on a great comeback, and suggested we choreograph the whole thing for a Halloween skit. I was sort of floating on air when we left for home.

Mom and Dad wanted a complete debriefing when they came home, and I let DeeDee do the honors because the strain finally got to me, and I needed to get some rest. When Brenna came in to make sure I was going to be okay, I said I needed a hug. She said she had a better idea.

She told me to get into my nightgown, and when she returned she was carrying her stuffed animals, and said she was to be a real live Buggs for the evening. She was right, it helped, and I felt a lot better as I hugged her and fell asleep feeling like there was hope after all.

For the next two weeks I was the topic of conversation in our sleepy little city. Mom and Dad got really tired of calls from people offering sympathy, or exorcism. For me there was no peace. Which also kept me from dwelling on my problems. Like my approaching need for a bigger bra, and pants with more hip room. Visions of DeeDee were a real scary possibility. I slowly was getting to like my breasts. And didn't want to spoil it by having too much of a good thing.

I finally got to meet Dr. Summers, and in three hours with him learned more about my condition and my choices for the future than I had since all this craziness started. He said he was amazed at how well I was handling my situation, and recommended that I meet with him every week until school started. "There are a lot of legal issues that must be addressed for the school to allow you to attend as a half-boy, half-girl. So I will put your parents in touch with a lawyer who knows the procedures. My job at this point is to help you with whatever social and emotional challenges you will encounter. Later we can work on what you can do to shape your future."

He was pretty cool, and I felt a lot better knowing I was making the best of things. Walking out to Mom's car, I stretched, and listened to the appreciative whistle I got from a passing boy. And it didn't bother me. I smiled, and wondered if the Leprechaun was still laughing.





© 2001 by Samantha Michelle. 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.