The Siblings

by Donna Dee

 

My story actually begins when I was 14, so please bear with me while I set the scene. I wasn’t tall, I wasn’t fat, in fact I was pretty much your average schoolboy, the youngest member of an affluent family, but I wasn’t spoiled, at least I never thought so. My father was an eminent surgeon, my Mother was his anaesthetist and they worked at the town hospital on a permanent evening shift, four until midnight, at least five and often six nights per week. Unsocial it may have been but it was extremely lucrative; we had a fine house and the very best of everything. I had a sister named Lucille who was five years older than me. We had the freedom of the house, to come and go as we pleased, but I was on trust to be home by ten and Lucy by eleven. I was, of course, well past the baby-sitting age, Mum and Dad thought we both spent most evenings at home together and there would have been ructions if they discovered that Lucy went out virtually every night on the pull.

Lucy was beautiful – really beautiful and it hurt me to hear from my mates that she was, in effect, the town bike, that anyone in pants would have no trouble getting into hers – at least that was what I was told. Seeing the way she dressed to go out most evenings and given the things she often said, I had to admit it was possibly true. I once asked her about it – she shut me up very firmly. "Listen to me, Donnie, you and I have a fantastic relationship for siblings; we love each other and would do anything for each other. Now I am over 18 and if I choose to go out and get laid every night, and I am not admitting that I do, then it’s my business and nobody else’s – OK?" I had to agree and I would never ever have snitched on her, we got on so well together as to seem unbelievable. I loved sitting on her bed while she got dressed to go out, she had no qualms about being naked with me in her room even though she realised I was staring at her bits and bobs. But for all that I still worried a little because sometimes she went out wearing almost nothing – tiny skirt and bikini top sort of thing, and I was so afraid something horrible might happen to her. "That’s nonsense, Donnie, no one is going to rape me, it’s more likely to be the other way around," she laughed, "I’d probably have his pants off long before he got anywhere near mine." She thought her remark was hilarious.

I was dating Belinda Smyth at the time – and I admit to fancying her real bad, though she was strictly a hands off girl and I found that very frustrating. However, things didn’t go well on this particular date and I stormed back into the house just after 6.30, banging the door as I came in and stamping up the stairs. Lucy came out of her room in the briefest of bras and panties, garter belt and nylons and smiled sweetly as she asked, "Got a problem little brother?" When she called me ‘little brother’, she said it so nicely that I loved her more than ever.

"Yes," I replied, "I’ve been dumped."

"Oh! That’s a shame. Wanna come in and tell me about it?" she asked, sympathetically, "I’ve still got twenty minutes. Come and talk to me while I put my face on."

I sat on her bed and watched her every movement as she started to work on her face and I told her my tale of woe. "Belinda, the girl of my dreams says that I am a wimp and the worst kisser in the school and so she’s found herself someone better. She even told me to get some practice and then call her because apart from that, she really does like me. How am I gonna get some practice sis?"

"Not easy little brother – give me time to think." Just after that she was ready and went off to meet her beau. I sat in an armchair with the television on but not really watching it. I had my zip undone and was playing with myself, thinking about kissing Belinda properly and wondering what on earth I was doing, or wasn’t doing that was so wrong, no one else ever complained. Suddenly I heard the front door open and them slam, loudly. I zipped my flies up quickly and pretended to be reading as Lucy flounced into the room; my sister was obviously in a foul mood. She hurled her purse on the settee and flopped down in the middle in a most unladylike manner – not like her at all. I ventured to ask what had gone wrong because I know she thought that this was a really hot date. "The bastard was late and nobody – and I mean nobody keeps me waiting," she stormed. She sulked for several minutes and then smiled sweetly at me. Patting the cushion beside the one on which she was seated she called me over. "Come and sit by me, little brother, his loss is gonna be your gain."

I willingly joined her on the settee totally unaware of what she had in mind. "I am going to give you some kissing lessons little brother, so pay attention." (Did I ever pay attention?) "However, before I do and IF I do then you have to do something for me – things that must be clearly understood and fully agreed to in advance, OK?"

"Like what?" I asked, suspecting a whole string of chores.

"Three things, actually. Number one is that you let your hair grow a whole lot longer. Crew cuts went out with the Vietnam War; in case you haven’t noticed, today’s fashion is for much longer hair."

"I do know that, sis, and I admit I would like to let it grow a bit longer, but Mum will go ballistic."

"No she wont, not if you tell her that I am going to keep it neat and tidy for you and really smart looking. Just look at Dad; his hair is lovely and long now, he’s following the fashion."

"Alright then. How long do I have to let it grow?" I asked, nervously.

"Long," she said, emphatically and determinedly, with a very serious look on her pretty face that gave me visions of her wanting it to hang right down my back.

"OK I said, what else?"

"You get your ears pierced and wear some nice studs in them, everyone’s doing it these days, you’ll get all the girls after you then."

"And you think Mum and Dad wont moan about me doing that?"

"I’ll do them for you and you and I’ll use very small studs until they’re healed up. If they moan you can blame it on me, tell them I did them when you were asleep if you like. I’ll talk them round so don't worry about it. They really will look cute you know. Later on we can try you with something bigger, hoops or rings perhaps."

Rings and or hoops, I insisted were negotiable. OK, so what’s the third thing?"

"Ah, well now, this is really the most important thing and absolutely not negotiable and it’s something you must promise me you will do tomorrow. I want you to get your navel pierced and wear a ring in it exactly the same as mine, it will be our love bond." Lucy pushed down the waistband of her skirt to allow me to see that a gold ring large enough to go on her finger and with a large ruby set into it had been inserted through her navel. "They come out really easily, watch." She snapped the ring open, (I hadn’t seen the join) and took it out. When she pulled on her navel and stretched the skin I could see right through the hole until she put the ring back in. "Now before you say Mum will moan, she wont even see it if you’re careful. She’s never mentioned mine because I only wear it when I go out – and you can do the same, just take it out at school. I think they’re dead sexy. You wont have to pay for the piercing and I will buy you a ring the same as mine."

"Oh Lucy, boys don't wear rings in their belly buttons."

"Of course they do, Donnie. I know lots of boys that wear them; the only time they leave it out is when they’re doing PE. But in any case when your hair has grown and you have some nice big earrings in to match, you will look lovely, trust me. Anyway, that’s the deal, take it or leave it."

Guess what? I took it.

"Good boy, you know it makes sense. Now then, you can pretend that I’m Belinda if you like and I want you to kiss me as if I was her – just the way you usually do, and then I’ll see what improvements are required, OK? Just forget that I’m your sister and pretend you really love me."

"That’s fine, sis, and very easy because I really do love you better than anyone, including Belinda."

"Yes, I know you do, and in case you didn’t realise, I love you too, but there are some rules because you mustn’t ever forget that we are brother and sister. Do you understand what incest is, Donnie?"

I said that I did.

"Right then, but you must pretend I’m your girlfriend or it wont work; you can play with my titties while you are kissing me if you like, but not – and I mean NOT between my legs, is that clearly understood?"

I agreed that it was.

"OK then, off you go." I put my arm around her; she snuggled up close and parted her luscious red lips invitingly. I put my mouth to hers and began to French kiss her, hard. In just a few seconds she was pushing me off. "I see what Belinda means," my kind sister said, "that was bloody terrible. It felt like you were trying to tear my lips off." I guess I sulked a bit until she said, "Don't pout, you are having lessons aren’t you? A girl likes a hard kiss now and then, but mostly they should be gentle and loving. Now then, I will kiss you like I want you to kiss me – you just relax and do nothing apart from opening your mouth wide when I do and keep your tongue just touching mine, follow it into my mouth whenever I pull mine back and when I push mine into your mouth just let me do it. Don't twist your lips on mine, let me do all the work."

She turned me round so that her arm was around me, pulled me close and started to kiss me, oh so gently, touching my lips with her tongue, occasionally sucking gently and biting my bottom lip seductively. Her hand started running over my chest, her long fingers undoing the buttons on my shirt, then sliding inside and feeling for my nipples. I was as hard as I had ever been and I know she could see it because she giggled as she worked. She kept the kiss going for what seemed like an hour but was more like ten minutes before she eased away, kissed the tip of my nose and smiled lovingly. She picked up her purse and extracted her compact, then made me look in the mirror to see that only a little of her lipstick had come off on my mouth. "Now then little brother, that’s the way to kiss, now you kiss me like that."

"Can I rub your chest like you did mine?"

"Of course you can," she giggled, "I’ll need something to excite me."

So kiss her I did, just like she’d kissed me and we carried on kissing like that for an hour or more. She must have liked it because in no time at all I had her blouse and bra off and she had removed my shirt. I squeezed her nipples, kissed them and sucked them and she kept working her body against mine. I was so randy and I am sure she felt the same; in fact she admitted that I’d made her all wet. She asked me if I wanted to go upstairs and relieve myself but I declined saying that although it was agony the sensation was far too good to waste on a crude wank.

She smiled lovingly and told me that she really did understand. She repeated that there was no way on earth we were going to have sex, but she began to rub me, gently at first through my trousers, but then she lowered the zip and began to stroke my cock. I was really surprised when she asked me if I’d ever had a blowjob. I had, of sorts, but I said no, hoping she was going to offer. Opening her bag she put on a whole lot of fresh lipstick and said, "I just want to see how much of your dick I can get in my mouth, but if you ever breathe a word about this I will kill you – and I mean it, Donnie." With that she began to lick my cock, running her tongue up and down the length and then she licked the pre-cum off the head. At last she started to suck it, drawing it further and further into her mouth. She closed her lips from time to time to put lipstick marks on my cock in order to gauge her progress. It wasn’t long before I knew I was coming, that I couldn’t hold it back much longer. I tried to pull it out but she wouldn’t let me and so I came in her mouth; she swallowed it with a gurgle of delight and a mumbled "please keep it coming." She obviously wanted more of it and just kept on sucking so hard that I thought she was trying to empty my scrotum as if she was drinking a bottle of pop through a straw. When she eventually released my tool I could see a ring of lipstick right at the base among my fair pubic hairs, indicating that she had taken a good five and a half inches into her mouth. "That was lovely," she said, "I really enjoyed that, we must do it again sometime. Have you ever tasted your cum?"

I shook my head – more in disbelief than anything else. It seemed that what they were saying about my lovely sister was true. "Next time you masturbate," Lucy continued, "try eating your cum, Donnie, it really is lovely, the nicest I’ve ever tasted."

We took a short break for a drink and it was nine thirty when she rejoined me on the settee. Once again she rummaged in her bag for a moist tissue and used it to clean up my lips. "I am going to put some lipstick on your mouth now, Donnie, no, don't look alarmed," she added quickly when she saw the horrified look on my face, "I just want to test how gently you can kiss when you really try. If you can do it without smudging the lipstick, you will be the best kisser in the state – and I am not joking." She put lots on both of us and we kissed for a very long time, mouths slipping and sliding effortlessly like skaters on an ice rink. It was the most erotic kiss I’d ever had and when it stopped and I looked at Lucy and then in her mirror, the lipstick was spread all around our mouths like a clowns make-up, at least half an inch in all directions from where our lips should have been. I thought I’d failed her test but she laughed really loudly and said that the test had been a joke, but that it was a good way of practicing.

"I think I am going to need to practice that quite a lot, sis," I said.

"Oh I do hope so, that was the general idea," she answered, "You really are very good indeed, I cant think what Belinda is complaining about."

The next afternoon when I came out of school, I went directly to the salon where my sister worked as agreed. It was a hair stylist come beauty parlour and I felt really embarrassed even going inside. She did my ears in the main salon and everyone laughed when I said "yow" after each stab. "Can I do each one twice, Donnie?" she asked, wearing one of her ‘Miss Innocent, anxious to please’ enquiring looks. "Ha bloody ha," I replied. She did have the decency to take me through to the back to do my belly button, but she made all the other girls who worked there come through to admire it.

My hair grew much quicker than I expected and was soon touching my shirt collar at the back. Mum accepted it was fashionable and was happy so long as I let Lucy dress it nicely. At first I wasn’t too pleased when she started to dress it over my ears, but once they were covered and she joined up with the hair at the back it looked quite good. She used a heated brush to turn the ends under just a little and I must admit that I liked it. Being fair it positively shone. By this time, provided the parents weren’t looking, I was wearing much bigger studs in my ears, sometimes hoops or rings. When we had our private snogging sessions I wore danglers, sometimes three inches long and there were times I regretted not letting her do the double piercing. Realising this my darling sister soon had a TRIPLE piercing in each of my ears. Every time she wanted to do something different to my hair or me she bribed me with another blowjob and I got a few more besides because she liked doing it just as much as I did. It wasn’t long before I realised that she was using a lightening agent with the shampoo and soon I was really blonde.

We did indeed keep on practicing our kissing technique, sometimes whilst we were both wearing her lipstick, and we kept this up until I was 18 and she left home to get married. She gave me regular blowjobs and she taught me cunnilingus – and we were so happy. However, once she had made her mind up to go, she announced her intentions and was married inside a month, which made Mum and Dad think she must be pregnant, but she assured me it wasn’t true. It was the saddest day of my life when Lucy confided in me her real reason for getting wed. She had learned, she said, from a respected source, that what we were doing was almost as incestuous as having intercourse and she couldn’t bear the shame any longer. I tried to reason with her but to no avail – they were going to Boston to put as much distance as possible between us – not because she no longer loved me but because she loved me too much.

After Lucy had gone I found myself putting her lipstick on when I masturbated, and when I was alone in the house – more and more frequently. Up until Lucy left home that was the nearest I ever got to wearing anything remotely feminine. I’d tested my kissing skills on the likes of Belinda, (she said she adored my earrings and belly button) but after Lucy I am afraid she no longer excited me, in fact the only real excitement I got after Lucy left home was wearing some of her panties and stockings. Ah yes, I haven’t mentioned her panties yet, have I?

When I finished school I got me a job in the hospital offices – it was well paid because of my computer skills and I’d be lying if I pretended that Mum and Dad didn’t help. They were now the resident surgeon/anaesthetist and could have a hospital apartment, so they bought me a smaller flat in the town. My big (now married) sister sent me a large parcel as a ‘flat warming’ gift with instructions that I must only open it when I was alone. That evening when all the guests had gone home, I looked inside the parcel. The note inside said she hoped these things would remind me of her – and did they ever. The parcel contained three pairs of Lucy’s extra skimpy panties, three well padded bras, six pairs of nylons, three garter belts and six lipsticks! The shades varied from light red to burgundy and when I tried them, later on, they felt divine. There were also two negligees and two pairs of fur lined slippers with lace bows and two-inch heels. The note also said that I should wear these whenever I thought of her in our special way – so that implied I should wear them all the time! I was, naturally enough extremely careful to keep anything feminine locked away. I adored wearing Lucy’s underclothes and lipstick whenever I was alone, it reminded me so much of her, and it wasn’t long until I had to buy extra supplies on the Internet. From time to time I bought new panties, nylons and an extra nightdress as well and began to build up quite a wardrobe, but it was Lucy’s clothes that gave me the biggest turn on by far. I did, occasionally, wear panties and nylons to work under my suit but it might be as well to point out that at no time did I even consider wearing a dress or blouse and skirt with my undies, the use of which became even more restricted for I never knew when a new girl friend was going to accompany me home to my flat for a quickie. I admit to dreaming about going the whole hog one day and wearing a full outfit of women's clothes, but in my heart I knew I’d never have the guts. Dressing as I did gave me a bit of a thrill though I was also disgusted with myself for being so weak. I got away with it – but temptation was greatly reduced once I got me a steady girlfriend. The trouble was I didn’t really want a steady – I wanted Lucy and I knew she wanted me, but I didn’t have her address in Boston so I couldn’t contact her.

My two best mates at the time were Homer and Yat and we went everywhere together, except when we had dates, of course. I met Amanda, (soon to become my steady) on a Friday as I recall. We three lads had gone to a ball game and it was Homer who had the seat next to Amanda. She told him that she knew me, (I didn’t think we had never met before) and asked him to change seats with me so that she and I could talk. I was certain that I had never met her before in my life but it seems that she worked in the next office to mine at the hospital. Being open plan, she had ogled me every time she passed our section but I certainly hadn’t realised. The four of us went for a drink after the game and I asked her back to my flat for a coffee. She showed no interest in leaving even though it was getting late and when I asked her if she’d like to stay, she agreed like a shot. When I said I only had the one bed, she asked how many did we need and so began one hell of an affair. I was 23 at the time and considering settling down, but I was concerned about two things; I still loved my sister, but it had now been 5 years since we’d been together that I was getting a bit frustrated. The second thing was that, if I did, my little feminising habits would have to go out of the window because Mandy showed no signs of tolerating that sort of behaviour.

As I said, my office was in an open plan set up and the other lads and lasses in the room got so used to her coming in to see me every morning when she arrived for work and kissing me firmly on the lips with a cheery "good morning, darling" that they no longer took any notice. To my surprise our affair had lasted six months, something of a record for me, but I realised I would soon have to tell her that I was off to Europe with Homer and Yat – the trip had been planned for more than a year. She didn’t object, it would have made no difference if she had, because although we were, of course, lovers, I had no plans then to let her move into my flat, even though she threw hints around like confetti at a wedding that it would be a good idea.

There was a crisis in the family a couple of months before I set off, my lovely sister had left her husband and joined up with some religious sect in Florida. Anything less like Lucy would be hard to imagine for she had told no one of her plans, least of all me and that had surprised my mother because we two had always been so close. Actually that wasn’t strictly true – I had no idea what she had planned, neither did I know when or where she was going, but she did write me the day she left Maurice, (her husband) to tell me that she could no longer carry on pretending she loved Maurice when there was someone else who was driving her crazy with both love and lust. This person wasn’t available to her and so she had found a site on the web that talked of the "The Temple of Love," a secret home for the lovelorn. When she had submitted her details, she had been made to tell them everything, (including her unnatural love for me) and when their representative had contacted her – (there was no way she could contact them directly) – they had agreed to accept her into their commune. There was no money involved, so, she reasoned, it couldn’t be a big con as so many semi-religious sects were these days.

But it was her final paragraph that scared me silly. She finished by saying that this was goodbye for ever, as she would never be allowed to leave, neither would she be able to contact anyone from the outside world. The representative had assured her that within the sect she would find peace and love and overcome her problem. I was urged not to try to find her – that it was pointless anyway because no outsider even knew about it, let alone where to find it, why even the website only appeared as if by magic to those who were genuinely distressed. She closed by sending her love to me because, in case I hadn’t realised, I was the one she was really running away from.

I’d had no idea she felt that deeply, if I had I would have agreed to go with her to another state, perhaps, where we could have lived as man and wife. Yes, I know incest is a crime, but so long as we didn’t have children – who would know? Our parents would have been horrified, but I suspect that had we gone ahead and just done it, we would have been forgiven eventually. Mum was distraught and asked me to help find her, but she admitted she had no more idea of where to look than the State police had. Obviously they wondered if what little they had been told was the truth, but her husband wasn’t a bully or a womaniser. Only I knew that my sister was cock crazy, (well she used to be at any rate) and it did cross my mind that her letter was a cover up and that she had found someone else. Lucy and I had talked on the telephone several times during the past five years and she gave me no reason to suspect that he no longer satisfied her or that she herself was playing away. Those phone calls always ended with her telling me to think of her in bed that night, something I did without her prompting, and you can probably imagine the mess I made in my bed afterwards. I promised my mother to help when I got back I decided that I couldn’t tell them about Lucy’s letter, but I did resolve to try my best to find her once I returned from my holiday.

We three musketeers set off for the UK that August intending to see several cities. One place we visited was called Blackpool – thought by the British to be the entertainment capital of the U.K. Whilst there we met up with a couple of English lads who helped us three Yanks to develop quite a taste for draught lager. On our second day in Blackpool (and for the first time in my life) I was the worse for drink, (though not belligerent I hasten to add); we were touring round the pleasure beach, riding the big dipper, swirls etc.

Pleasure beach is a gigantic fairground and boasts the biggest big dipper in the world, (or so they say) and it’s difficult to get all the way round the park in a day. We were doing our best to sample all the rides and supping lager from large cans when we came across the booth of a fortuneteller. Now I’d like to make it clear I do not believe in the ability of other people to read the future whether it is palmistry, phrenology or simple astrology – in fact I never, ever, ever read that column in the newspapers. That day however, under the influence of numerous pints of amber nectar, I was coaxed into having my palm read and went nervously into the tent. Having paid my money I waited in the tent in semi darkness.

After a few minutes my eyes became accustomed to the dark and I became aware of someone tall seated across the table opposite me who was gazing into a crystal ball, which was illuminated from underneath. She (?) was dressed in black; her face wore a mask, or else was heavily made up to look like a puma with eyes like green emeralds as they stared into my very soul.

She, (her voice gave away her sex) gave a semblance of a smile as she said "Hello Donnie, how are things in California." Up to now I hadn’t spoken and I doubted she could have heard my friends egging me on to go inside, (though it was remotely possible) so how did she know who I was? I sat there agape. "I can see that you are 23, your girlfriend’s name is Amanda, you work together in the local hospital and you normally wear a pair of ladies panties and nylon stockings when you go to work," she said. "Why do you do that?"

How the hell did she know I did that? I went to jump up and run off but the old hag, (for that was how she now seemed), placed a perfectly manicured hand on mine and bade me to stay where I was. What was more, I couldn’t move. I looked down to see my legs right up to my knees were encased in a solid block of concrete. "What the hell have you done to me," I demanded, "You will have ruined my shoes and trousers." The thought of being dumped out at sea and unable to swim also passed through my mind.

"Don’t be alarmed, Donnie, no harm will befall you, I only want to make sure you sit still while you tell me all I want to know. Now then, please tell me how you came to start wearing ladies underclothes and lipstick."

Reluctantly I told her of my predilection for nylons and panties, and that a girl had given them to me when she moved away to remind me of her.

"Yes, that would have been Lucy I imagine."

Now I was really frightened because nobody knew about Lucy and me – nobody. "Just what do you know about my sister," I blurted out anxiously. Suddenly remembering that she had disappeared I implored her to tell me if she knew where Lucy was.

"Lucy is perfectly safe and quite well, so don't worry about her for the moment. There is a lot more I need to know about you before I tell you about your sister." I thought she sounded a little disgusted as I told her how Lucy had given me kissing lessons and had suddenly realised we were in love. I assured her we had never made love but she obviously realised that Lucy and I were almost lovers.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"I am Helen, principal attendant to the Goddess Lara from the Temple of Love in Florida. Lucy is a new recruit; she came to us of her own free will and has no wish to leave us. It is, however, the goddess’s opinion that Lucy is not as happy as she should be, and if this should subsequently be proved to be true, I can tell you honestly that she will be the first girl we have ever had who is unhappy at the temple. I am sorry to say that she cannot be allowed to leave and I have been given the responsibility of making her happy."

"Why can’t she leave?"

"This is very difficult to explain. The temple exists just for women; no males have ever been inside the gates, even though they are never locked. Look deep into the crystal ball and I will try to show you a little of our home." In the ball I could see a temple of Eastern design, some chalets as if from a campsite and acres of green fields, all bathed in sunshine. Age number of women in long flowing robes wandered around at least three swimming pools. I had to admit it looked heavenly. Helen smiled.

"Yes, it is just that. If I could show you your sister – and for that matter any of our other devotees, you would be even more surprised. We only accept one new recruit a year, usually on their birthday, and between the ages of 25 and 30. It is a fact that they remain at that age for evermore. I myself have lived there for over two hundred years and physically I look no different, though there have been changes in fashion, of course."

I believed what she was saying, I really did. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I feel that you are the only one that can make Lucy happy again and I need to see if that is true."

"I would do anything to make Lucy happy, ANYTHING," I said.

"Yes, I believe you would, and so we shall see. I can promise you nothing, Donnie, apart from the fact that we will take every care of your sister. I am about to put you through a series of tests, and whether or not you will see your sister again will depend on the results of these tests."

"What sort of tests?"

"Most of them you will not even know about, but there is one of which you have to be made aware. If you agree then in a month’s time you will be changed into a woman – a complete woman in every detail. You will act just as if you had been born female, the way you walk, talk, think, dress and make love, everything. But while this is happening, you will always be aware of who you once were. You as you are today will have no control over the way in which the female you behaves. Your mannerisms will be totally feminine and it goes without saying that nobody else will ever know."

"But what about my workmates, my parents? They will know."

"You underestimate Lara’s powers. Everyone you know or have ever known will only remember you as a girl. Your parents will think of you as their youngest daughter, Donna, your colleagues will always have known you as Donna."

"What about Amanda?"

"Perfectly simple, you two are having a lesbian affair – everyone knows you are totally gay, and at present your only love is Mandy."

"But I don't want to be a woman," I replied.

"Just now you said you would do anything to help your sister, ANYTHING, you said."

"How will this help my sister, she’s not gay."

"Oh yes she is now, all the sisters at the temple are."

"I repeated that I had no wish to be a woman; she simply smiled and said that I no longer had a choice that the decision had been taken and was irrevocable. She had me shit scared – and I really mean that. I asked her when this might happen and she smiled again; "It isn’t might happen, Donnie, it will happen, and soon." She refused to tell me exactly when and under what circumstances though she did say it would be within the month, whatever that meant. I asked if the change would really be permanent. "Yes," she replied, "but mainly because you will refuse the chance to change back if it is offered to you."

"And if I do as you ask, will you let me meet my sister again?"

"For the last time, Donnie, please understand that you do not have a choice. Within a month you will become a beautiful woman, virtually the twin of your beloved sister – it has all been taken care of. Once it happens, try to forget you were ever a man because you will never want to be a man again."

"How will this change take place – do I have to have an operation or anything?"

"Goodness gracious me NO! The change will take place suddenly and without warning, so you had best be ready for it. You probably wont notice it yourself at first, so do not worry about what others might think; they will notice nothing unusual. From the moment the change takes place they will only remember you as a woman, and that does apply to your parents as well. All your papers, from your birth certificate to your driving licence will change, even your bank account. Now go back to your friends and finish your holiday – it may be the last you will ever have."

"But what about this concrete round my legs?"

"What concrete," she smiled as she vanished. I’m sure I don't have to tell you that my legs were completely free and that there were no stains on my trousers or shoes. "Hypnosis is a very useful tool, isn’t it Donna," Helen said from the darkness, "That IS your new name, by the way."

When I rejoined my mates outside I first apologised for being such a long time, they looked amazed and said I had only been gone three minutes. "How much did they charge," asked Yak.

"Five English pounds, that’s about 8 bucks."

"What! They charged you eight bucks for three minutes? You wuz robbed." They wanted to know what the gypsy had told me, but do you know I couldn’t remember most of what she said, and nothing at all about my sister. "She said I was going to have a sex change."

"YOU ARE GONNA HAVE A WHAT?" Said Homer & Yat together.

"You heard me – I guess it was all just a big con."

But later that night in my hotel bed – and on several other nights as well, I began to remember some of the things she had told me – but I knew that, if she was serious and it would help my dear sister, I would go through with it. Not that it seemed I had a choice.

The lads wouldn’t let it drop for a day or two, we all pissed ourselves laughing at what the gypsy had told me – that I was going to change into a lesbian and have affairs with other women. No way would that happen they said. I also told them that the gypsy had said that when the change took place, the spell would encompass everyone who knew me – they would instantly and unreservedly accept me in my new female role. "That’s a load of bull," said Homer," because that means that if you became an attractive female I wouldn’t remember you as a bloke and I might try to chat you up. My ass."

Three weeks later, home once again and having sex with Amanda that night, I thought again about the gypsy’s forecast and I asked her if she had ever had sex with another woman. She became very angry that I should suggest such a thing and it took me quite a while to calm her down.

Inexorably the days went by until a full month had passed and it seemed more than ever like a bad dream. But what seemed worse was that Lucy was out there somewhere on her own in need of help – or was that all lies as well. No, that had to be true because Mum had told me it was so. It was the thirty-first day after my session with the fortune-teller, a Friday and about 12.25 when Amanda popped into my office and said she needed to go to the mall at lunchtime for some new panties and asked if I wanted to go with her or meet her in the café later on. I said I’d go with her because I could do with a couple of pairs myself. I knew what I’d said but it didn’t seem strange at all and Amanda didn’t seem to think so either.

As we swung through the main entrance to the mall I caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of those windows that sometimes look just like a mirror. I clapped my hand over my mouth and screeched in horror. "What’s up, Donna?" asked Amanda.

"I haven’t got my face on," I wailed, making a beeline for the nearest powder room, realising as I did so that I had only a lipstick and some perfume in my purse. I entered the room and inspected myself. The one thing that was immediately obvious was that the change had happened, and it had happened sometime during the morning while I was at my desk. Nobody seemed to have noticed, not even Amanda who had, naturally enough, followed me into the ladies! The smart fawn coloured mohair suit, pink shirt and brown tie I had worn to work that morning had been changed into a ladies styled suit with a knee length slim line skirt. My shirt was now a blouse and my tie had become a string of brown beads that matched my short dangling earrings. My light brown shoes now had a four-inch heel and pointed toes, and I walked in them quite perfectly. My socks had been changed into nylons and I suspected my Y fronts were now panties but I had no time to check and I was absolutely certain that my boobs were encased in a bra. What was more, they were BIG boobs, a C cup at least.

My hair was smartly styled but there was not a scrap of make-up on my face and I knew that I never went out without it. (That last bit was Donna talking, by the way.) There was no varnish on my long fingernails either. All I had in my purse was a lipstick, which I used very quickly, and since Amanda had nothing useful with her I excused myself from the shopping trip and ran into the nearest Salon where I asked Marie, (who knew me quite well, or so it seemed since she also called me Donna) if she could squeeze me in, I said I’d got up late. She called Jacqui, the manicurist over and I told her to just do one coat of something quick drying while Marie gave me a quick makeover. They worked well together, the burgundy shade they used on nails and lips complimented my outfit perfectly. I bought a lipstick and a bottle of nail varnish in that same colour. It still took nearly the whole of my lunch hour and I was delighted that Amanda had bought me a ham on rye sandwich, as I had no time to eat properly now. As we walked back to the office, heels clicking rhythmically on the sidewalk, Amanda said I looked much better and that she couldn’t wait to get me in bed tonight! When I thought of how she’d reacted a few nights ago I almost flipped.

Eating my sandwich seemed odd; normally I would have devoured it in three bites but today I took small dainty bites and constantly used the napkin to take the crumbs off my lips. For the rest of the afternoon it was like being two people, the girl I now was getting on with her work, taking calls for ‘Donna’ without hesitation, smiling prettily at all and sundry. After an hour I realised I needed to pee and so got up and walked to the little girl’s room. I went directly into a stall, raised my skirt and dropped my panties, (they were very flimsy, all lace and bows and a bright red in colour) and sat my nicely rounded bum on the seat. When I peed I was somewhat startled at the speed it came out – with a whoosh. I wiped myself, and that seemed odd because I was used to shaking the drops off, replaced my clothes and went to the mirror. That small part of my mind that was still Donnie thought that the new girl was remarkably like Lucy and felt like giving his new looks a wolf whistle. I don't know which of us hoisted my blouse out from my skirt and peered down to make sure Lucy’s naval ring was still in place, (it was). Meanwhile Donna added some extra lipstick and a generous squirt of perfume. I returned to my desk and worked away until five when Amanda came in, said she was going now and would see me tonight at about seven. I told her that I was popping upstairs to see my Mum after work and told her to let her self in; she had the necessary keys. "I love your new lipstick, darling," she said as she kissed me firmly on the lips, "cant wait to try it out properly later on. Try not to be too late." No one in the office took the slightest notice of our kissing each other – and I realised that everyone accepted that my sexual preferences were for other women.

At half past five I switched off my monitor, replaced my jacket and once again refreshed my lips before wishing everyone goodnight and heading for the lift. Mum and Dad lived on the 52^nd floor and the express lift takes just a few seconds to complete the journey. This time it stopped between the 25^th and 26^th floors and I feared a breakdown. I was about to curse in my pre-Donna days style when I realised I was no longer alone. "Good afternoon, Donna," said the glamorous woman who had joined me, "I don't suppose you remember me?"

I shook my head and she said she was Helen and that we had met in Blackpool, England. I realised that she must be the gypsy fortuneteller.

"I thought I’d better check that the change had taken place OK and that you are happy with everything," she said, "I take it you ARE quite happy."

Remember that it was Donna that actually answered the question, though I was fully aware of what she was saying. "Happy? Are you kidding? I couldn’t be happier! I have never been so happy in all my life, except when I was with Lucy, of course. Why don't you change all the men into women and do away with wars and industrial disputes forever more? Thank you for changing Amanda for me, thank you for everything." There was another thing Donna liked but didn’t mention at the time; Donnie had been 5 feet 7 – small for a male whereas that while she was the same height, her four-inch heels gave her a status she could only have dreamed of. She resolved to shop for even higher heeled shoes at the first opportunity.

"My word, that is absolutely marvellous. I take it I was right and that you will never want to go back to your former self?"

"If I did change back then I think I’d kill myself, I really do. When can I meet Lucy again?"

"Not for a little while – you have to be totally female before that can happen. At the moment Donnie is still there in the background, wondering what is going to happen next and waiting for something to go wrong. He will try to guide you from time to time; don't dismiss him out of hand, listen carefully to what he has to say and then make your own judgement, because it is YOU, Donna, that will go on from here and Donnie will no longer exist, however much you still love him."

"I’d still like to know how long it will be – roughly will do."

"Maybe, and I do mean maybe you will get to see her on your next birthday – but that is not a promise. What you don't yet know is that you can only join our commune on the anniversary of the Goddess Lara’s birth. We visit this planet on that day when we all become a day older. That means we take a whole earth year to age one earth day, though our members enjoy a full life for that time, as do you. Now then, Donna, I presume you are going to see your parents; you want them to expel your final doubts about whom you really are. Don't be afraid, they DO know you as Donna, their youngest daughter and your mother believes she asked YOU to help her find your sister. Live the new life you have to the full, I will be around to see you again when the time comes, but call me if you are in trouble, I WILL hear you." So saying the lift restarted and the woman was gone.

Outside the door to her mother’s flat Donna paused as Donnie took temporary charge of her thoughts, even though she tried to expel him. She knew HE had a key to the apartment and therefore it should be in her purse. She looked and, of course, there it was. It seemed very strange just to walk in as a woman when she knew for a fact they had never seen her like this before, but if the gypsy was right then it would seem even funnier to ring the bell. She took a deep breath, inserted the key and entered. Her mother was walking down the hall as she turned to shut the door carefully, (Donnie would simply have slammed it shut!).

"Hello Donna my darling, did you have a lovely holiday?"

Donna had decided that they would know her in her new role but even so she was delighted to be right. "Yes, thank you Mummy," she said, blowing a kiss near her cheek, "I had a lovely time. How is Daddy?" (Never before could she recall addressing her father as Daddy!).

"He’s fine, he will be here directly. That’s a lovely suit you have on, looks very expensive, but it does make you look absolutely fantastic so I am sure it was worth it."

Donna giggled. "Yes, it was expensive, I bought it to travel to England in since we went on Concorde."

"I expect people must have thought you were very important, especially if the others looked as smart. It beats me how you always manage to find just the right shade of lipstick and nail polish to go with whatever you wear. You must have hundreds of them in the flat."

Donna giggled again and agreed that she did have quite a few. "I’m down to my last hundred pairs of shoes though, so I shall have to start shopping again soon," she laughed.

"How is Amanda, did you miss her?"

"Yes, I did. Oh Mummy, I know you hate me being gay, but I can’t help it because I do love her so. I couldn’t bear it if she left me. She IS so beautiful, isn’t she?"

"It’s alright my darling, we understand, but you are far prettier than she is and that’s not just parental pride. Incidentally, I often wondered how and why you became gay, you never did tell me."

"What’s to tell? I was never interested in boys, you know that and there was never a boy I wanted to hold me or kiss me or anything like that. Then one day I was at the works party, I’d had a drink or two when I got pushed against this girl who held on to me and then she kissed me. It was wonderful."

"So you didn’t start with Amanda then, I often wondered. When will you bring her to see us, it seems ages since you brought her to see us – and if you two are going to be an item then we’d better get to know her properly, so don't leave it too long."

"Sure. Mum, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can darling, what is it?"

"When we were in England we watched one of those blue movies. Now don't be getting disgusted, I am old enough now. Anyway, it was about this boy who got caught wearing his sisters clothes and his Mum made him wear them all the time. She gave him hormones that changed his body and eventually had his boy parts amputated and made into a vagina. It wasn’t really enjoyable and I wished I’d never seen it, but since then I have been having these terrible dreams in which I was a boy who got changed into a girl against her will. That isn’t true, is it Mum?"

"Good gracious me NO, Donna, whatever next. You only have to look at yourself to see that your body is far too perfect to be man made! Get Amanda to search you all over for any sign of a scar; all she will find is one you got when you had appendicitis when you were seven. I’ll find your birth certificate out if you like; I’ve never heard anything so preposterous in all my life."

"I'm sorry Mummy, but it was such a real dream. Have you heard anything else about Lucy?"

"No, I was hoping that you had. Daddy went to see the police in case there had been any foul play but they assured him, as best they could, that they were quite satisfied she left home of her own free will and that her husband didn’t hurt her at all."

"I have been asking around, Mummy, and I have met someone who has heard of this commune."

"Really? What did they say?"

"Not a lot as yet, but I am working on it. It seems that you can only join by invitation and that membership is strictly limited. This woman claimed to have worked for the sect and that she believed everyone there was happy. Just how true it is I can't say."

I stayed long enough to see my father when he came in and ran to him with those funny little running steps women in tight skirts have to employ, threw my arms around his neck and kissed him soundly by the side of his mouth leaving a bold lipstick mark on his cheek. "Oops, sorry Daddy," I grinned and fumbled for a tissue to remove the evidence. "Don't worry about it, darling, it’s a long time since I was kissed by a beautiful girl," and he happily hugged me, his ‘new’ daughter, saying how good it was to see me again.

I left the flat shortly after thinking that it was odd, somehow, that my Daddy should be the first person I kissed, (I mean kissed properly, those pecks with Amanda weren’t the same), and I really enjoyed branding him with that very sticky cupids bow my freshly painted mouth had imparted. I returned to my flat, it was only a block away so I had decided to walk. It was amazing how easily I glided along on such high heels, hips swaying gently as I walked. I was back at the flat by ten to seven and had started on a light meal for my lover and myself by the time Amanda arrived. The first thing we did was to embrace and kiss passionately, mouths fully open, tongues reaching deeply into the others mouth to search for tonsils or whatever.

We ate our meal and I took Amanda into my re-vamped bedroom, for it now had two extra fitted wardrobes and they were full, literally, with gorgeous feminine clothes. There was a section containing the altered versions of my former suits, slacks, shirts etc; another with rack upon rack of high heeled shoes. There were drawers packed with lingerie and blouses, nylons, pantyhose, suspender belts and swimwear. I knew this would all be here; don't ask me how. Seeing the clothes for the first time made me think that Helen, (or the Goddess Lara) must have ordered one of everything from the latest mail order catalogue.

Then the sex started; we stripped and did more things to each other than I could readily believe or even imagine. It was of course, my first night of lesbian love and, as climax followed climax, each one infinitely longer than any experience I had ever had as a male, I knew that I had hit the jackpot and that I would never ever want to return to my former life. How we kept going for the whole weekend was nothing short of miraculous, but even so when the time came for Amanda to return home on Sunday evening, I wanted her to stay for even more.

We saw each other at least six evenings a week for the next month and everything seemed to be pointing to us making some kind of commitment to each other. I had bought a ring whilst in England, a diamond cluster that, in all honesty, had been a real bargain, and I was thinking of giving it to her so that we could be engaged – well sort of. I had held back because I still had no idea where this sex change business was taking me in my search for Lucy, though by now wild horses couldn’t have dragged me back into my original life.

Six or seven weeks after I made the change, Amanda didn’t come in to work on Monday, neither did she answer her telephone when I rang to enquire why, but on the Wednesday, a message came through while I was at lunch asking me to meet her in the club that evening. What Club?

After a while I remembered her once mentioning Gayles Club, a bar come disco used predominantly by Gays and Lesbians and figured that must be the one. I went there from work and saw her seated in a dark corner; she had two drinks ready. She was very edgy and somehow looked different, though I couldn’t think quite how. We began to talk, I obviously wanted to know why she hadn’t been to work, but it was some time before she said she had resigned.

Getting the truth out of her was very difficult and some of the remarks she made had me wondering if she was really listening to me and I was furious when she made an elementary mistake about my re-vamped bedroom, though she did protest it was because she had been more interested in me and suggested she might not have been listening properly. And then, to my utter amazement, Amanda walked into the club, and she had her arms round another girl. I looked at the woman by my side and wondered if it could be my gypsy friend playing another of her tricks on me. I said something sarcastic and asked her if she was really Helen.

"No, my darling, I am not Helen," she replied. It was Lucy’s voice; I’d have known it anywhere, even after all this time. "Lucy?" I asked nervously. "Oh Lucy, is that really you?"

She put her fingers to a spot near her ear and ripped a thin latex mask away to reveal that she was indeed my dear sister. Needless to say we kissed deeply – it would have been impossible not to, and it would have happened even if we hadn’t been in a gay club. It was a slippery lip sticky kiss, the kind we had when I was a lad. The memories of ten years ago came flooding back. "Oh my dearest darling Lucy, I have missed you so."

"Me too my beloved, and thank you so much for everything you have done to make this meeting possible."

"If you mean the sex change then think nothing of it – I’d have done it sooner if I had known how good it is to be a woman. I never, ever want to go back to being Donnie again."

"You can't do that anyway," said a voice from behind me, "I wouldn’t do it, even if you begged me."

Yes, you’ve guessed it, it was Helen who had joined our table and who was smiling broadly to see two such happy women, both so obviously in love.

"So what happened to the commune and the Goddess Lara?" I asked, bemused to see them both here in my local club." Helen explained.

"There is no such place my dear. Several months ago Lucy was walking through the mall and she spied a shop she hadn’t seen before, it was called ‘Spells R Us,’ and it is the firm I work for. I am a witch, a fully paid up card carrying broomstick riding witch. This was in Boston, by the way, and she came in because of her problems. You know the story, of course, that she had only married Maurice to get away from home and the temptation you created. Lucy was absolutely determined that she would never commit the ultimate sin with you, but she was so unhappy that she had even considered ending her life. She told my boss all about it and even he couldn’t cast a spell that would make your love for each other permissible. Eventually we decided that if you were both of the same sex, no actual sin was possible and we all agreed it was better to turn you to a girl than Lucy into a boy."

"I’m glad you did," I said, laughing.

"Yes, I'm sure you both are, though obviously we couldn’t be certain you would feel like that so we arranged our little plan. Amanda agreed to co-operate even though she knew that you were destined for someone else; she did love you, by the way, but I’ve arranged it so that she doesn’t hurt too much now that you’ve split up."

"So where do we go from here?"

"I want you to ring your Mother and tell her you have traced Lucy and that she has agreed to come with you to see them, provided they promise not to tell Maurice. You will then tell them that Lucy is going to live with you for the time being…"

"No, forever."

"Quite, but only you two know that; let your parents find out when they have to. Meanwhile I will help you to get a bigger flat in which you can ostensibly live in separate bedrooms. You will need to be careful, Donna, because Maurice may take it into his head to contact you in an effort to trace Lucy, but I am sure you can deal with that. Now then, listen carefully, because by this time tomorrow, Donna and you Lucy, will forget you were ever a boy, you will forget you ever met me, Amanda and anyone else you knew in your former life. It only remains for me to wish you luck and that you will always love each other as much as you do today."

"That is absolutely guaranteed," my sister and I said as one.

 

The beginning.

 

 

 

*********************************************
© 2002 by Donna Dee. 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.