He Wasn't Even A Boy! - Chapter 6

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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.

And as I moved, so did the girl in the glass. If you've ever seen that classic comedy sketch with Harpo Marx and Lucille Ball, where one mirrors the other's movements, then you know what I was hoping for. 

I wanted the girl to break character, to move on her own, and prove that she was not me. But of course, she didn't. For I was her. At this point, my mind was spinning more than Brian Boitano with an inner-ear infection inside a centrifuge (thank you, Dennis Miller). 

I still felt a sense of relief that my body was not some Jessica Rabbit exaggeration of femininity. But I was dismayed to see there was no trace of my male self left. But I sure was cute! And yet I felt like my breasts were huge balloons, my arms were like sticks, and my hips were so wide you could shelve books on them. 

But when I looked in the mirror, I saw a very attractive, normal female body. 

So I knew my breasts were not really so huge, my arms were okay, and so forth. Yet I was a girl! So I felt lost and confused. But I was a naked girl! 

And so my male mind was intrigued by my exposed female body. But I missed my penis, I felt so empty... down below! But there was a girl's vagina right in front of me, waiting for me to explore its mysteries! 

And on and on... The array of emotions cascading down on me was more diverse than a Benetton ad campaign. Shock, curiosity, sadness, fear, fascination, and even a little arousal. 

I felt dizzy from it all I staggered over to the bed and sat down on a butt that clearly had more padding than before. I took a couple of deep breaths, watching in amazement as my... boobs jiggled. I was just reaching up to cup them when the door opened. It was a nurse. 

"Oh!" she said, seeming a little surprised. "You're finished." "Well, that's one way to put it," I responded, my voice even higher than before. She smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. How do you feel?" "I guess I feel like a girl, whatever that means." 

"Don't worry, you'll figure it out soon enough. Are you in any pain?" "I'm a little dizzy; otherwise, I'm okay." 

I looked down and gave a start. I'd forgotten I was nude, female, and having a conversation with a woman who appeared to have smaller breasts than me. 

I shuddered. The nurse quickly came to my side and threw a blanket over my shoulders. 

"You need to take it very slowly for a little while yet. I'll be back in about 15 minutes. We need to give you a physical. There are some clothes in the drawer that should fit you. Don't worry, nothing too frilly." Her manner was reassuring, and I was grateful for that. 

She began to leave, then turned back to me. "I feel kind of special. I'm the very first person to see you as a girl. It's almost like being in the delivery room. Just hang in there, you will adjust. You're very pretty, if it's any consolation." It wasn't. 

The last thing I wanted to hear was compliments on my looks. After all, if I'm attractive, I'd have to consider who I'd be attracting. I got up, still unsteady, and walked over to the dresser. Inside the drawer were a few articles of clothing. I pulled them out and took inventory. One pair of gray sweatpants is okay. One tank top is okay. One pair of underpants. 

Not okay. For they were girls' underpants. As I held them up, I noticed they were very simple. White cotton, no lace, no flowers. A slight scalloping of the waistband was the only concession to femininity. But it didn't matter. They were still... panties. 

Before GB, I'd always thought of the term 'panties' as cute, even a little sexy. But now, it seemed a bit condescending. 'Panties' was a word you'd expect a four-year-old to use. For a grown woman to have her underpants referred to in such a childish fashion somehow made her less adult, more like a little girl. 

Which made it all the harder for her to be accepted as an equal. I remembered an old episode of 'All In The Family,' when Archie Bunker proclaimed, "In my household, the money will be earned by the ones who wear the pants in the family, not the panties!" 

And now I would have to wear them. Slowly, I reached down to pull them on. My breasts seemed to dangle pendulously all the way to the floor as I bent over. I pulled the underwear up my smooth legs to my hips and snugly against my female crotch. 

Oh! Despite the conservative style, just wearing these panties made me feel... girly. I mean, I really didn't know what feeling 'girly' was like, but I definitely didn't feel like a boy. The fabric was so much softer than my male briefs. The elastic on the legbands hugged my butt in a strange way. 

The underwear seemed to be cut similar to a low-rise set of boys' briefs, except for being a little higher on the hip. But most remarkable was the feel of the panties pressing between my legs. No bulge of a penis. No adjustments to make, for I had nothing to adjust. The panties made me feel bereft of manhood, the flatness between my legs confirming that all I had was a... vagina. I keep using the terms vagina and breasts as opposed to pussy, hooters, etc. 

As a boy, I'd occasionally refer to girls' anatomy with earthier language. But now, I felt such names were somehow... degrading. I certainly didn't want to have a vagina. But I wanted a cunt even less. The scientific terminology didn't feel quite as embarrassing. I have no choice about being a girl, but I wasn't going to use the harsher appellations that would reduce me to a set of body parts. 

Anyway, it did feel a little better to have the panties on; I wanted to cover myself up. I pulled the tank top over my head and actually had to tug it over my breasts. My god, my chest seemed larger with the top on than off! A tight blouse can enhance even a small-breasted woman. For me, my breasts seemed to push my top out so far and the huge nipples were visible through the ribbed cotton. 

I realized then that I would never truly be able to conceal my chest. Oh, I could prevent the direct exposure of my skin, but the presence of my breasts would forever be undeniable. For the rest of my life, everywhere I went, my breasts would precede me, announcing to the world, "Look, everybody, she's a girl!" 

 Clad about as well as I could be for the moment, I went back to the mirror to take stock. What I saw was a typical teenager, dressed as if she were lounging around the house. I noticed something else, I appeared younger than as a boy. 

The girl in the mirror looked about 15 years old. And that was also dismaying to me, for the last thing a teenager of either gender wants is to look more youthful. 

Whether it's girls layering on the makeup or boys struggling to grow a mustache, every teenager seeks to seem older than his/her age. Yet GB had taken a couple of years off from my appearance, which made me feel even more vulnerable. But, god, this girl was cute! 

She... I... bore a striking resemblance to the actress Michelle Tractenberg, who plays Dawn on 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer.' We weren't twins; my hair was a little darker and longer, and her lips were fuller than mine, but we could have passed for cousins. 

Our body types were similar as well, slender, full-breasted, with hips that were slightly smaller than average for a girl, but very feminine in terms of curves. You have to understand, I still had a disconnect between what I saw in my reflection and what I felt from my body. 

Dressed in the simple tank and sweatpants, I looked quite normal even though my senses were screaming to me that my breasts were Hindenberg-class and my ass wouldn't fit in a movie theater seat. I hoped the adjustment Erin had spoken of wouldn't take too long, but I still felt freakish. 

The door opened, and the nurse led me down the hall to the examining room. It looked just like any other treatment facility with a long table covered with paper and cabinets filled with supplies. I also noticed two strange brackets projecting from one end of the table, which almost resembled stirrups. 

Uh, oh. I realized then I was about to undergo a profound initiation into my new girlhood, a gynecological exam. I knew virtually nothing about them, except that most women didn't care for the experience. 

The nurse remained with me, and Dr. Turley, still in her white coat, entered the room. "Okay, Jack, I see you've completed the physical transition. I know you are very disoriented and confused right now. I just need to know if you are feeling any pain." "No," I replied softly. "I do feel very weird, but it doesn't hurt." "Good. You've probably guessed what's next. 

We need to verify the full results of GB, and we need to make sure there are no medical issues with your new reproductive organs. I've endured a number of these exams, so I know it is intimidating. 

But as a woman myself, I promise to make this as comfortable as possible. Regular gynecological exams are crucial for women and girls to maintain good health. You've got a more complex body than before, and it does need more maintenance." She spoke in a sober tone, but there was a kind look in her eyes. Then she asked me to undress down to my panties. Slowly, I complied. 

I noticed I was already starting to feel shy about having my breasts exposed, and I was glad there were only females in the room. I just wish I weren't one of them. While I sat on the table, Dr. Turley showed me how to perform a self-examination for lumps and cautioned me about the risks of cancer. By the time she was done kneading my chest, I felt rather sore. They certainly were sensitive! She spoke then. 

"I have to admit, I'm more than a little jealous you have a lovely pair of breasts. I know that's not high on your list of priorities, but at least GB gives you an aesthetically pleasing body." 

"The problem is, Doctor, we have different standards of aesthetics," I responded. Then things got very serious. I removed my panties, scooted down to the end of the platform, and placed my feet into the stirrups. 

The nurse draped a blanket over my chest, but I was still nude below the waist. Never had I experienced a sense of exposure like this. With my legs spread so far apart and nothing between them but a vagina, I felt somehow extra naked as if I were physically revealing my very soul. 

Dr. Turley spoke. "Okay, Jack, here we go. I'm going to insert a speculum into your vaginal canal and examine your cervix for abnormalities. 

You'll feel a pinching effect. I'll try to be very gentle." She then spread jelly on a plastic set of 'spoons' and moved her chair between my legs. 

I began to tremble my whole body was shaking. The nurse patted my hand and spoke reassuring words, which helped a little. Then, I felt a bizarre stretching sensation where my scrotum once was, followed by a feeling of... penetration into an opening my body never had before. It was so surreal that I almost didn't notice the pain. Almost. 

God, I felt so... complicated down there! And very delicate as she probed deeper inside me. The speculum seemed huge, filling me more than I imagined possible. 

While Dr. Turley was examining me, she was calling out observations to the nurse. At one point, I heard her say, "The patient's hymen is of normal appearance and dimension. She has no abnormalities of her cervix." I felt a double whammy. 'Hymen'? That meant I was a virgin. 

Which made sense in a weird way, since I was a virgin as a boy. I wondered if Erin, who'd lost her virginity as a male, had a hymen when GB finished her. 

So I was 'cherry'? It was very unsettling to realize I was that anatomically correct as a girl. Added to that was the strangeness of hearing the feminine pronouns of 'her' and 'she' used to refer to me. 

I knew it was inevitable I'd thought of Todd the same way when she had completed her transformation. But to be identified as female in such a casual fashion drove home the dramatic change I'd undergone. It was far more than just physical. I'd entered a whole new world. 

Much to my relief, Dr. Turley completed the exam. I felt oddly 'open' once the speculum was removed, and the excess jelly was uncomfortable. The nurse helped me to clean up as I was doing so, I experienced just a hint of pleasure as my vulva was gently rubbed. I quickly put it out of my mind; I didn't want to consider my sexuality in any way. 

I got dressed again, realizing I was actually grateful to pull up my girl's panties and achieve some modesty at last. Dr. Turley reported that everything was normal. Then she began a very detailed discussion of the female body, complete with pictures. 

This included descriptions of various functions, highlighting the obvious need to wipe after urination, which, of course, had to be done sitting down. 

Menstruation was also part of the program, as I learned at age 17 what most girls learned at age 10. Back when I was in grade school, I remember some gym classes were segregated by sex, while each watched certain films. The boys had always wondered what the girls' movies were all about, even at that age, femininity was a forbidden mystery to me. 

Not anymore. And frankly, I could have done without learning about these secrets. Pads, tampons, pantiliners, and all the rest seemed intimidating, not to mention awkward. 

Apparently, I'd still have a 'package' in my underwear for several days a month, just not the one I was used to. Then there were the various infections I'd have to watch for. By the time she was done, I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, and vulnerable. 

Noting this, Dr. Turley concluded. "Jack, I know you've been through a lot, but you are handling things very well. It may seem that girlhood is very daunting, almost frightening. But I can assure you it will feel normal soon enough. And there are rewards as well. 

I believe Erin spoke to the class about personal 'experimentation.' Remember our discussion of the clitoris. I'd recommend it for you, it will help you get in tune with your body, and you may find being a girl can be quite pleasant." I had my doubts. I didn't even want to have a vagina let alone go on some spelunking expedition up inside of it. 

I preferred to pretend it just wasn't there, which was actually easier to do than you might think. Most of the time, I wasn't even aware of my female organs, though I was acutely aware of the void between my legs. 

But that was more a result of my missing my penis rather than sensing my new opening. As the nurse led me to a cafeteria, I came to another understanding. 

The Lord taketh away, but the Lord also giveth. I felt empty down below, but the presence of my breasts more than made up for it. Every step I took produced a jiggling sensation in my swollen nipples felt as though they were floating in space, far in front of my torso. 

The tank top stretched against my breasts, producing an itching feeling that was half irritating, half pleasant. 

I arrived at the cafeteria, famished. Ravenous, I loaded up a tray with various salads, pastas, etc. The room had two groups of people: the guys from the class who were still male and those who... weren't. I joined the second group. Birds of a feather. Todd was already there, halfway through her meal. She looked up at me. "Jack?" "In the flesh." "Jesus, you're pretty. How are you doing?" 

 "About the same as you, probably. I'm just trying to hang in there." Two other girls were with us. One was a cute redhead with an array of adorable freckles; the other was perhaps the most beautiful of us all, with classic Ethiopian features and a flawless dark mocha complexion. 

Both, like Todd and myself, were utterly feminine in appearance. 

They were dressed in the same casual combo I had on, and all four of us filled out our tops very well. In fact, I may have had the edge in that category, though the others were certainly no slouches. Great. I'm not only a girl; I'm stacked to boot. 

 The redhead introduced herself as Billy, the Black girl as Jerome. It was so incongruous to hear the masculine monikers used by such attractive young women, and I realized for the first time I was going to have to change my own name. 

We attempted small talk for a few minutes before we started to discuss the day's events. During our conversation, we noticed the other table of boys casting surreptitious glances at us. 

I could guess what was going on. Half of their attention was based on male appreciation for four pretty girls in tight tops. The other half would wonder, "Am I going to look like that?" 

 I could understand their interest, for the three girls I was sitting with were very captivating in appearance. In my old male form, I probably would have had a semi just from seeing their nipples poking out the thin cotton fabric. 

In this body, though, desire manifested itself in a different way. I felt a slight tingle in my own chest and a hint of warmth between my legs. I quickly turned my thoughts away. "So, what did you think of the exam?" Billy asked. "All the dignity of a 'Jerry Springer' episode," I responded. 

 "It was sooo embarrassing!" Todd chimed in. "And to think we've got to go through it every year." 

She shook her head, her blond hair waving. 

"Just wait till we have babies," Billy said. We all looked at the freckled girl in shock. 

"There's no way I'm ever going to let a guy get me in that condition," Jerome said emphatically. Todd and I seconded the opinion. 

Billy smiled at us. "I wouldn't be so sure. Remember Erin?" 

I had to credit that. Erin had not been shy about her female sexuality. She had been very willing to make out with a boy. And if it could happen to her, then... Todd said to Billy, "You don't seem all that upset about the prospect." "That's because I'm not. I kind of like being... this way." She looked down at herself, contemplating her new form. "Already?" I asked incredulously. 

"Dr. Turley did say 20% of the boys ended up preferring life as girls. I feel... special as a female. I can't really describe it, but there's something about this body that appeals to me. I even like the idea of dressing it up. I'm looking forward to seeing how I look in lingerie, skirts, and all the rest." She blushed but met our eyes steadily. 

"Did you want to be a girl before GB?" "Nope. I'd always been a little curious about what it might feel like, but I was happy as a guy. But it's as though some kind of switch was thrown inside me. I'm really excited about all this." She seemed almost bubbly. 

"Even the exam? Didn't that faze you?" Todd asked. "Actually, it was almost like... validation. As if it proved how female I am. And I liked having it proven." Wow. Granted, Billy looked like a very attractive, perfectly normal young woman. So her talk about wanting to wear skirts and frilly underwear made sense at face value. But she'd been a boy six hours ago! 

"How can you stand this?" Jerome asked her. "I hate it!" I looked at the lovely dark-skinned girl, her haunted face framed by glossy black curls. She continued in a low but heated tone, "Every breath I take I feel these... these tits. 

I'm so fucking small and weak; I've got this pussy between my legs, and I know damn well what I look like. Every guy will want to jump me. And I'm going to have to wear bras, have periods, and deal with all this other girly shit. 

I don't want any of this. And you sit there and say you can't wait to get into a dress? How? Tell me how you can cope with this because I can't see living another day in this body, let alone a lifetime." It was Billy's turn to seem shocked. And since Jerome detested her new body to the same extreme Billy loved hers, neither could see the other's perspective. 

As for me, I felt I was closer to Jerome's position than Billy's. But I wasn't at the point of despair. I'd jump at a chance to go back, but now that the worst had happened, I thought I could at least live with it. Hearing Jerome say otherwise made me scared for her. I remembered Doctor Turley's story about the suicides. I tried to reassure Jerome. 

"I'm not thrilled with this either. But it's not like we have to put on tutus and join a dance team. If we just take it slow and look out for each other, we can get through this." She looked flatly back. "You think it's going to be any easier for you, white girl? With that alabaster skin of yours, that perfect hair, and those nipples you could dial a phone with? 

Your chest alone is going to make every dude hard. Or are you like Billy here, all ready to put on crotchless panties and go trolling for studs?" All three of us were taken aback at the vehemence of her speech. 

The expression on her face softened. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. I guess I'm just acting like a... bitch." She smiled wryly for a brief instant. "It's just so hard for me. I know it's no joyride for you, but being Black makes it different." 

"How?" Todd asked, brushing her blond hair back. 

"Do I have to explain it? African-American culture places a great deal of value on brothers being tough, strong, and independent due to what we have to go through in this society. And before you interrupt, I know white boys are supposed to be all macho, too. But be honest, it's not the same. 

You've seen the movies, read the books, listened to the music, you know what the image is: a Black man never wants to appear anything less than in total control of himself." Tears welled up in her huge, dark eyes. 

"But how can I be in control when I'm in the middle of PMS, or have to worry about my skirt flying around on a windy day, or some guy takes a shine to me and he outweighs me by a hundred pounds?" 

I'd thought about those things too. I'd already come to understand being a girl meant surrendering a certain sense of independence. Between the body and the culture, it was difficult for a girl to feel in command of... anything. 

Of course, Erin's demonstration earlier today (remember when she flashed us?) had proven that girls did have some power. But to take advantage of it meant fully accepting being a girl in every way. Billy may have been up to it, but I doubted I was, and it was for sure Jerome was not. 

"I'm sorry," was all I could say to her. She looked at me and smiled, which made her even more gorgeous. "Don't worry, Jack. I'm not going to do anything bad I'm just frustrated, that's all. Actually, you're the one who's got the biggest challenge. Are you going to keep running the mile as a girl?" 

"You know about me?" "Hell, yeah. I'm more into sprints, myself, but everybody in the track world is up on you. So are a lot of other people. Breaking the four-minute mile? Damn impressive." It was my turn to be morose. 

"It doesn't look like I'll ever do it again." Jerome didn't try to spin it. "It's a tough break for both of us, man." I winced at her use of the term 'man.' She turned to Todd. "How are you doing?" The pretty blonde replied, "Not too bad so far. Having four sisters kind of paved the way for me." She was about to continue when a nurse came up and said it was bedtime. 

As we said goodnight to each other, we seemed a little bit more at ease than before. It was definitely true that GRS was helpful. Just being able to talk to other guys and girls who were going through the same thing made it better. Todd and I arrived back in our room, dreading what was coming. We had to get ready for bed.