He Wasn't Even A Boy! - Chapter 7

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Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are 18 years of age or older at the time of the events described. This work is intended for a mature audience and complies with all applicable content guidelines regarding age-appropriate material. It is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. The content is not meant to promote or endorse any real-life actions. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy responsibly within the context of fantasy.

I went ahead of her, into the bathroom, where brushing my teeth was the first normal thing I'd done today. I washed my face, marveling at how it felt different to my hands the slope of my nose, the shape of my chin. And the skin was so soft, so clear! I'd never had many problems with acne as a boy, but now my complexion seemed almost to glow.

I constantly had to brush my hair back, a mannerism I was learning quickly. It was still surreal to look in the mirror and see someone else's face. Yes, there was a slight resemblance to my former self, but for all practical purposes, I'd become another human being. And I had no idea who she was. God, would I ever get used to this?

As I cleaned up, I was intrigued by how tiny my hands were. They seemed no bigger than Sue's, almost like the hands of a child. And yet they were so fine, so evenly proportioned. I spent nearly five minutes just looking at them. I'd never smoked a joint (bad for training), but I imagined I looked like someone who was high, fascinated by the mundane in a Thoreau-like way. Todd knocked on the door, her soprano voice asking if I was all right.

I said yes, then proceeded to the final shock my body had in store for me tonight. I needed to pee. I stared at the bowl at which I would never aim again.

No writing my name in the snow for me. Slowly, I took down my pants and panties and sat. And sat. And sat.

I had to concentrate to learn which muscles to relax. Just when I was about to give up, the stream suddenly erupted from my body. I gave a little gasp as it happened it seemed as though I had less control over things than before. I know it's silly, but I missed being able to direct the flow.

When it was over, I carefully wiped as I'd been shown. God! To put my hands between my legs and feel nothing but space was eerie. But the sensation of my... vulva being touched was even eerier. So sensitive! I kept my eyes forward during all of this.

My vagina was set back a little further between my legs - which was for the best since I had no desire to look at it.

Now that may seem strange to you, since a vagina represents the most physical aspect of femininity. And after all, I'd spent my life as a male, so here was the chance to learn all about it. As a boy, I'd always been extremely curious about what a woman looked like down there. Yes, I'd seen Playboy, etc, but I knew the 'live' experience would be much more intense.

So here I was, with the mystery of girlhood right in front of me at last yet now I felt uncomfortable, almost repulsed by it. If this vagina had been on some other girl, then I would have been delighted to check things out.

But on my body? It just didn't excite me. I washed up and turned the bathroom over to Todd. I removed my pants and got into bed. I spent the time watching my chest rise and fall with my breath.

After about 10 minutes, she came out, white-faced and almost shaking, dressed in her tank top and white cotton panties same style as mine. She had very nice legs, I noticed with a little delight. "Are you okay?" I asked her. "I'm not sure. It's just so... so bizarre to see myself like this. I mean, I love my sisters, but I never wanted to become one of them!

And yet now, I'll fit in just fi... fine. We'll talk about clothes and boys and periods and I'll... I'll be just like they are!" She sat down on the bed and began to cry.

"Jack, I... I don't know if I can do this! I was happy being a guy, but to see these breasts and my... female parts, I'm not really Todd anymore. I'm this... this girl!" I went over to her and put my arms around her slim shoulders. I just let her speak. "My name's going to have to change.

But I don't know what to pick! Toddrina? Toddra? It's just so ridiculous." She continued to sob, and I felt a strangely mothering instinct. I pulled her head to my chest and cradled the petite blonde in my slender arms. Already, the social aspect of being a young woman was kicking in.

As a guy, another guy would never have cried in front of me. And even if he had, the most I would have done was pat his shoulder. But as a girl, comforting another girl by cuddling with her seemed perfectly natural. Although I was still boy enough to be a little turned on by hugging a cute female in her underwear.

"For you, Jack, it's got to be easier. You can go with Jackie so you can still keep some of your identity." I'd already considered that.

But my painful encounter with Andy Marks, where he'd mockingly called me Jackie, had spoiled the choice. Then, too, using 'Jackie' seemed almost a cop-out as if I were still trying to hold on to some semblance of my former existence. Erin and the other counselors were right, I could never be Jack anymore One look in the mirror or down my top proved that.

I was someone else entirely now, so I needed a whole new name. How about Stephanie? I don't know why it popped into my head, but it seemed to fit. Stephanie Lind. A nice name for a girl.

Todd was still snuggling against my breasts and that interesting new tingling feeling was beginning in my nipples. I gently pulled her up and told her my choice for my name. Then I suggested one for her.

"How about Tamara?"

She paused for a moment. "You know what that's not bad! I could shorten it to Tammie or even Tam. A woman's name, but a lot better than Becky or Sue." I nearly laughed, but I kept silent.

I knew my two best female friends liked their names, but I could understand how they might have been a little too girly for Todd... Tamara to handle.

She hugged me then, and the feel of our breasts pressing together was stunning, our nipples poking almost aggressively into each other. We broke the hug, a little astonished at the erotic sensation.

Our eyes met for a moment, and we looked away in embarrassment. We got back into our beds and turned out the lights. She spoke to me in the dark. "Thanks for being there for me, you're a really sweet girl... oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you a..."

"Girl?" I finished. "I may not want to be one and I don't know anything about how to be one, but I have to admit... that's what I am." She sighed. "That's what we both are."

"Good night... Tamara."

"Good night... Stephanie." The name echoed in my mind as I lay in bed. I'm not a boy named Jack. I'm a girl named Stephanie. The impossibility of that statement jarred with its reality. And forget about sleep.

I was learning, as generations of full-breasted females had before me, that a well-developed chest was quite a distraction when trying to rest. My nipples reacted to the slightest pressure, and the sheer bulk of my breasts shifted against my body with every move.

When I turned on my side, I could actually feel the weight of one breast on top of the other.

And there was no chance I could sleep on my stomach now. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Resolutely, I forced my thoughts away from the vagina that nestled between my legs, waiting to be explored.

Then there was the hair, spilling over the pillow and falling across my face. While I tried to settle down, I thought I heard a few muffled sobs coming from Tamara's bed. A few came from my bed as well.

But I finally did fall into a deep sleep, dreamless, thank God, and I awoke to the sound of a shower running.

Tamara's bed was empty, and I got up slowly. Walking to the mirror, I could see nothing had changed; my reflection was that of a teenage girl in her panties and top, eyes a little puffy, hair mussed.

The male I had been was a little excited at seeing a young woman in a state of undress, but fortunately, I was still too disoriented to react to it.

Tamara came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her girl-style, with a plastic shower cap. She seemed a little calmer than last night in fact, there was almost a glow about her. She pulled off the cap and smiled at me.

"Better use one of these, it'll take forever to dry this much hair. One advantage of having four sisters, I know a fair amount about female routines." I walked into the bathroom, took off my underwear, and stepped into the shower.

The hot water felt very good as I lathered up my incredibly smooth and hairless skin. I had to cup my breasts from the spray; they were so sensitive!

As I soaped down, I found myself beginning to enjoy washing my breasts; the combination of warm water and lather was... stimulating. Almost without willing it, my hands began to stroke my nipples, which quickly became more swollen than ever.

This may sound odd, but the best way to describe the sensation of having breasts was as if I had two large semi-erections on my torso, firm but not stiff, growing more pleasurable the closer to the tips I stroked.

My breathing grew ragged, and I felt a moisture between my legs that was not water. I realized with a start that several minutes had passed.

I'd become lost in the feelings of my girlish body! Dismayed at how easily I had succumbed to female sexuality, I finished quickly.

I noticed there was a shower nozzle attachment, and I also noticed some droplets of water on it. I thought back to what Erin had said about experimentation, and then I thought of the glow on Tamara's face as she'd left the bathroom. Good for her - if it helps her cope, so much the better. It wasn't for me, though. For I wanted nothing to do with a girl's sex drive.

Yes, I accepted I was female because I had no choice. But I didn't want to imagine arousal, for I couldn't imagine...boys. I was still repulsed at the idea that I would become attracted to males, no matter that the experts said it would happen.

At the very least, I wanted to put it off until I could control things. But my body was not only that of a female; it was that of a teenager. Which meant I had the elevated hormones all kids had. Girls' hormones.

Which in turn meant my body would have a mind of its own, so to speak. The last thing I wanted was to find myself lusting for boys, being forced by my body to desire them, against my will.

So I didn't want to get acquainted with my female needs at all. For once, a girl got started, as Erin's demonstration had proved, there was no guarantee she could stop.

Drying off, I stepped outside where Tamara was waiting. She smiled at me and looked me over. I could hardly blame her; a naked girl was towel-drying right in front of her.

The part of her that was still Todd was enjoying the view. I wasn't bothered by her interest, though. After all, we were both female; she was no threat to me. "How was your shower?"

"Wet," I replied curtly. Then I lightened my tone. "Sorry, I'm having a little trouble this morning."

"I understand. Did you try out any of the... attachments?" she said mischievously.

"No chance. I ended up enjoying myself more than I wanted to just from my chest alone." "Yeah a girl's body is rather sensitive, isn't it? I experimented a little... down below."

This did interest me. "How was it?" "Very different. And quite intense. I didn't get very far, but if what I felt was an indicator of things to come..."

"Please tell me that pun was accidental." She giggled.

"Yes. As much as I hate to admit it, there may be some advantages to being this way. I've got a feeling sex as a girl is going to be a lot more... extreme than as a boy."

"Just so long as I don't have to involve any boys myself." I shuddered. She grew more serious as I pulled on a fresh pair of panties. The female underwear still felt so odd.

"I know what you mean," Tamara said. "The idea of guys is... intimidating."

"Not to mention repulsive." Tamara didn't reply. I wondered if she was ahead of me on the path toward a girl's mind.

A nurse knocked and told us to report to the cafeteria for breakfast. There we found Billy and Jerome. None of the remaining boys had transformed overnight, so the four of us took a table again. Billy spoke first.

"Pick a name yet?"

"Stephanie," I replied.

"Tamara," the former Todd echoed. "You?" "Beth."

"That's cute," Tamara said. "So are your two names," Billy, now Beth, told us.

"Yeah, we're just such adorable girly-girls, aren't we?" Jerome chimed in sarcastically.

"Well, when in Rome," Tamara said.

"I want a ticket out of Rome," Jerome shot back. "I want to go to MANchester or MANanagua or MANchuria or..." She tried to think of another one.

"Mandalay!" I couldn't resist. "How about Guyana?" Jerome said, "That'll work. Hell, I'd even take Boise!" We ran out of steam at that point.

Beth tried to put a positive look on it. "I know this is harder for you than me, Jerome - and I don't think Stephanie's too happy about it either.

But if we have to be girls, at least we're young, healthy, and very good-looking. That's not a bad way to go through life." A sad smile spread across Jerome's lovely face. "I was young, healthy, and very good-looking before all this."

We chuckled. I spoke to Beth and asked the pretty redhead if she still felt the same way as she did last night.

"Oh, yes, Stephanie - especially after my shower." She blushed. "If I were offered a chance to go back now, I might just turn it down.

This is... exciting!" Jerome shook her head. "My hat's off to you, Beth but I can't see how you feel like this." "Just give it time, Jerome. Speaking of which, have you chosen a name yet?" "You know I don't want to.

Picking a girl's name for myself would be like saying I agree with everything that's happened."

Tamara interjected. "I hear you, Jerome. But it's like we were told yesterday, the rest of the world is not going to change for us. They'll see us as girls, and if we have boys' names, we'll just get more negative attention."

"Intellectually, I know you're right... Tamara. But I'm still a man in my heart even though I'm carrying these tits above it.

I know I have to go along to get along, but it's..." Her lips began to tremble.

"Damn... I cry all too easily now." All three of us reached over to hug her. Jerome looked up at us, tears running down her face, and managed a weak smirk.

"Well, it's not completely bad. I've got three hot girls fussing over me. A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead, no less."

We all laughed. Then we were escorted to the first class of the day. Underwear.

Actually, it was the first of a series of blocks on girls' clothing, which we obviously needed. Todd... Tamara could have figured things out on her own, since she grew up in a house with five females.

But the rest of us were completely clueless. When we arrived in the room, we found a smiling Erin waiting for us, dressed in a long blue robe with a floral pattern.

"Well, I see you all have crossed the great divide. I hope you are doing well, because we have a lot to talk about this morning." After a few more pleasantries, she locked the door so we would not be disturbed. Then she got down to business.

"As you must know by now, being a girl is a lot more complicated than being a guy. That complexity is reflected in everything she does, physically and socially. The more you know, the easier it will be for you to adjust. So let's get down to basics."

"Women's underwear serves three purposes. First, the obvious hygienic one. Second, to accentuate clothing. When a man puts on a suit, it doesn't really matter what he's wearing underneath.

But for a woman, her underwear has to integrate with what she's wearing on the outside, because she's far more likely to be showing skin. Stockings, bras, and slips are all part of the package.

And third, women's underwear communicates a sense of femininity to the woman wearing it and the men around her.

"You've all heard the term 'lingerie', from the French, 'to linger'. As I can tell you, wearing lingerie is a very sensuous experience; it makes you feel girly. And when you feel girly, others treat you that way.

"Now, men's underwear and men's clothing in general is utilitarian that is, it serve a functional purpose. And to be fair, much of the time, the clothes you put on as girls will be functional as well.

Not every minute is a fashion show. "But," Erin continued, "most girls, including those affected by GB, do find a desire to indulge their femininity by wearing something frilly on occasion.

It can be as simple as a lace pair of panties, or as all-out as a stocking and garter set. As teenage girls, you won't spend much time in teddies, corsets, and the like. Those kinds of things tend to be costumes, not very practical. But you will put on skirts and dresses once in a while, and you will find a strong desire to wear pretty things underneath them.

"I never expected to feel that way myself. I figured everything I'd wear would come right out of 'Jockey for Girls'. But after a few weeks as a female, I found that I liked wearing feminine clothes, including the underwear. It's fun and damn near... irresistible."

Jerome and I exchanged glances. I found Erin's statement hard to credit, and Jerome certainly had doubts. Tamara and Beth seemed to be more into the possibility. Erin stood up and smoothly removed her robe.

All four of us took a deep breath, appreciating what we saw. Billy... Beth may have already been thinking of herself as a real girl, but even she could not help but be impressed by Erin's fine body, dressed only in a skimpy yellow bra and briefs.

My, she was nice.

"Now, what I'm wearing is a slightly more exotic version of what you should wear every time you leave your home. As you can see, I have on a bra with matching panties. At a minimum, a girl is expected to wear some kind of underpants and a bra whenever she is in public.

There really is no occasion you should ever be without panties." She suddenly gave a naughty smile.

"Well, there is one occasion. Anyway, having your bra and panties match is not mandatory; in fact, it's quite normal not to. But I do like to have the set coordinate it's... cuter that way."

She giggled.

"When sleeping, your breasts, as you've no doubt discovered, are quite sensitive and do need to be covered. Typically, a girl wears panties and either a sleep-shirt or a T-shirt to bed.

Of course, there are all kinds of pajamas you can put on as well, including the famous baby-dolls that have lots of lace and ruffles. But usually, girls prefer to sleep in something practical."

Then she began a detailed description of the different kinds of panties. Briefs, hipsters, bikinis, low-rise, high-cut, and, most bizarre, thongs. And the different fabrics, cotton, nylon, Lycra, and polyblends. She modeled a few different types for us, changing right in front of us.

I enjoyed looking at her lovely curves, while realizing sadly that her nudity didn't bother her in the least, why should it? There were no boys in the room. And so she gave us a chance to see how the different fashions looked. God knows she looked good in all of them.

"Now for bras. Women wear bras for modesty; you don't want to encourage guys by putting yourself on too much display. The goal for a girl is sexy, not slutty.

A woman also wears a bra to keep her chest... under control. As you have all seen, things can bounce around quite a bit. A bra helps with that. As GB girls, you have a bit more in the breast department than many of your peers, so bras are all the more essential."

That was followed by an even more extensive display of all the various types of bras: demi-cups, underwires, sports bras, and on and on. I noticed she did turn her back while changing, but I could still catch glimpses of her full chest. Quite fun. Then came slips.

As Erin explained, many skirts and dresses are rather sheer to prevent too much exposure, slips create a smoother, more subtle line. Pantyhose and stockings were discussed as well.

"Fashion for teenage girls these days rarely requires slips and stockings on a regular basis. Most teen girls do wear dresses from time to time, but usually prefer bare legs or tights.

Tights are easier to put on, don't run so much, and create the feeling of wearing pants, which is reassuring when the hem of your skirt is no lower than your fingertips."

I had absolutely no intention of wearing anything of the kind. Jeans would do just fine for me. I was not about to force myself into all this... this girl stuff.

I knew I'd have to wear bras; one look at my prodigious chest made that abundantly clear. But as for the rest, I planned to take full advantage of the freedom girls had to wear the clothes of the opposite sex.

As if on cue, Erin spoke again. "All this may seem ridiculous, but the key is to experiment and develop your own style.

One of the greatest things about being a girl is all the options. A teenage girl can wear just about anything she wants. It's a blast to try on a dozen different sets of clothes and suddenly find an outfit that's... you!

And you can count your blessings, you were not a girl in the 1950s, where you would have been forced to wear dresses, crinolines, stockings, and garters every single day." Jerome (she really needs to get a girl's name) and I shuddered at that. Even in the 21st century, dressing like a girl seemed, in Erin's words, ridiculous.

I was growing weary of all this.

We finally took a break, and I went to see Janet Barlow, the GRS program manager. I asked her to place a call to my mom to have her pick me up. She expressed doubt about my readiness to leave GRS.

"Are you sure, Stephanie?" I cringed at the sound of my new name (word had gotten around fast), but shook it off.

"Yes, I am. I've completed the transition, my physical says I'm oka,y and I'm not really interested in getting my hair done or putting on make-up. I'll finish the paperwork after that, I'm out of here." Ms Barlow sensed a bit of tension in my voice. "Jack... Stephanie, you need to understand something: bailing out of the course now will not improve your odds of success for a successful mental transition to womanhood.

I know having all this thrown at you is overwhelming, and you feel a need to escape, but you can't run away from your own body."

"Look, I know what I am now, I just can't revel in it the way Billy... Beth does. I'm not trying to run away from anything; I just have to pace myself. If I need lessons on make-up and so forth, my mom can help me."

"You say you know what you are. What are you, then?" she asked, looking at me pointedly.

"I'm a girl," I replied, meeting her eyes steadily in return.

"And?" she prompted. "I'm not a boy.