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Permission given to post on Fictionmania and Crystals Story Site. Standard warning and disclaimer: All characters are fictional. If you see yourself, buy a new mirror. Contains subjects some people may find offensive. If you are one of them, why are you reading this? Protect your kids. If you are worried about them reading this sort of material, please censor free speech and use a safe surfing program such as net nanny. Or better yet, teach them early and lovingly to understand and accept different lifestyles. Before they learn from bad experiences. Constructive comments appreciated. I have a delete button and I'm not afraid to use it! Please send comments to: [email protected] Backwoods By Samantha Michelle Copyright 2001 When I was eight my father was killed in a car wreck that left both Mom and me badly injured. The drunk driver that crossed the centerline was also killed, and of course had no insurance. When we finally got out of the hospital, Wonky, a biker friend of Dad's, presented us with a little bit of good news - the drunk had one asset. He owned a small house on a large piece of property way out in the country. It had taken Wonky and his cohorts very little pressure to have the drunk's family sign over clear title to the property to Mom. With Wonky, this probably meant that he and several of his simian buddies showed up on their choppers and "hinted" that they would be "unhappy" if the property was not transferred by the end of the day. They even got the drunk's family to pay several years of taxes in advance. As soon as Mom was healed enough, we moved to the house with the help of Dad's friends. Wonky and crew had cleaned the place up, and out, which was necessary as it had not been lived in for several years. Mom was unable to drive, so they made weekly grocery runs to town, and took us in for our checkups. By winter the house was fully stocked, and we had a chicken coop. The people at the county welfare office paid to have a telephone line installed because Mom couldn't drive, and with the stipend from Mom's and Dad's social security we were able to make it through the winter without many problems. Because I was still recovering from my injuries, the county welfare people and the school "overlooked" my non-attendance that year. That spring I turned nine and, except when helping Mom or tending the animals and gardens (Mom wanted to try and grow everything we would need), I ran completely wild. I had not had a haircut since long before the accident, and my thick, soft-brown hair hung well down my back. In the late spring I was off scouting the woods when I noticed someone else near my favorite swimming hole in the stream that ran along the back edge of the property. I snuck through the bushes, and found a boy my age, with short, rough-cut red hair skinny-dipping in the stream. So I boldly jumped out and yelled "Boo!" The kid saw me, screamed, slipped on a rock, and disappeared under the water. Knowing that there was just enough current to be dangerous, I jumped in and dragged the struggling and gasping kid to shore. Once I pulled him out of the water, I realized that "he" was really a "she". When she finally spit out enough water to breathe properly, I told her she was the first kid my age I had seen since we moved in last fall. Her reply was that she thought that only some weird motorcycle types lived at our place. She said she was really glad to find another girl her age living nearby, as all she had were older brothers. When I asked who the other girl was, she gave me a funny look and then tried frantically to cover herself as it dawned on her that I was a boy. I laughed and told her that it did not make a difference to me whether she was dressed or not (I had seen my mother without clothes too many times, helping her bathe after the accident.) I got up, found her cutoffs, and tossed them to her. She turned and pulled them on, looked down at her non- existent breasts, decided she really did not need her top, and turned back to face me. "Sorry I made you get your clothes wet," she said looking at my dripping form, "But you shouldn't scare people like that." She then introduced herself as Bobbie (spelling out he "ie" ending) and said she lived on the large farm that was north of our property. I apologized for scaring her, and told her that I really did not care that I was wet. I laughed saying it was cooler, and peeled off my shirt and shoes. I introduced myself as Terry. She looked at me kind of funny. I realized that with my slight build and long wet hair I looked much more like a girl than she did. She was about my height, but was much stockier and better muscled. "Are you sure you're a boy?" I suddenly felt alone again. The kids back at school, before the accident, always teased my about how small I was. And I had been called a girl and a pansy too many times. When Bobbie saw the expression on my face she knew I was hurt, and she came over and gave me a big hug and an apology. I could see that she meant it, and I suddenly burst into tears and cried. When I finally stopped, Bobbie asked if I wanted to come over to her place for some ice cream. I started to drool, as ice cream was a luxury we could rarely afford. She found her top, and told me to get dressed and come with her. We followed the fence around her property until we reached a gate that had instructions on how to turn off the electric cattle fence. When inside, she reset the fence and we followed a tractor path up to the big old farmhouse. The reason I had never seen the house was that it was completely hidden from view by a couple of small hills. Entering the back door with me she hollered, "I'm home, and I have a friend with me so you'd better watch your manners." "They" turned out to be three muscular, wild-looking boys, much bigger than either of us, whose red hair hinted strongly that they were her older (emphasizing older) brothers. The largest, who reminded me disturbingly of Wonky, introduced himself in amazingly clear English. "Hi, I'm Jordy. It's great to see that my little sister has finally found another girl to keep her company." "'My names Terry, and I... Ouch, urk!" as Bobbie's elbow in my stomach made it clear that she did not want me to do any explaining at this time. "Make sure the table is set for eight for dinner, and wash up before coming to the table." She hollered as we headed into the kitchen. Dishing out two giant servings of strawberry ice cream, she told me, "Grab a spoon from the dish rack," and took me upstairs to her room. At least she said it was hers. It was about the same size as mine, but was crammed full of books and posters of cars and musical groups. As she kicked the door shut, she apologized for elbowing me "I figured that if my brothers think you are a girl they won't object to your being in my room, and pound you to a pulp." "What about your parents, won't they object?" I asked as I shoveled ice cream into my mouth. I was surprised when she put her ice cream down and gave me a sad look. "My mother died giving birth to me, and my father died a year later, they said of a broken heart. Because there were seven of us, and my oldest brother was sixteen at the time, they let us stay together and live on the farm." She smiled, and continued, "I learned from my brothers, and I guess I act just like them." "Once I was old enough, I started to fill in for Mom, as the boys needed to be working. So they now treat me sort of like a substitute mom and are very protective of me." She wiped a tear from her face. I sat beside her and gave her a long, tender hug. "What about your family?" she asked. "I lost my father in an auto accident last year, and my mother is still crippled up, so I have to take care of the household chores too." I looked at her "You know, it's sort of funny that you are a lot like your brothers. My dad was rarely home due to his job, so I am used to being around women most of the time." I looked at her. "Why do you cut your hair so short?" "That's how my brothers cut it when I was younger, and I've never changed styles." She ran her hands through my hair. "I wish I had soft hair like yours." Hers was thicker, and almost wiry. I don't know why, but the feel of her hands running though my hair was so soothing that I moved closer, and we spent the next few hours snuggled like teddy bears. Our sojourn was broken when one of the brothers hollered up the stairs that it was getting close to dinner and Bobbie needed to get cooking. She giggled and we disentangled and headed downstairs. I helped fix (and eat) dinner, and then told Bobbie I had to head home to make dinner for Mom. Jordy said he was heading into town, and offered to drop me off. I was tired, so I agreed. A few minutes later, Mom hobbled out in alarm as Jordy pulled his battered pickup up in front of the house and I jumped out. I thanked him for the ride and he drove off. Mom wanted to know what was going on, and when I explained she relaxed a bit but said she was so worried about me because I was all she had left in the world. I gave her a hug and told her that I was fine. Bobbie and I spent a lot of time together the rest of the summer. At my request she let me trim and style her hair, and she let it grow. I introduced her to Mom, and with Mom's help she began to learn some of the "girl" skills she had been lacking. Whenever she was over, I was with her, so I learned more of the same skills. Mom agreed to keep Bobbie's secret that I was really a boy from her brothers, and this worked fine until time came to start school. It turned out that the schools in the rural areas were really behind, so the lost year did not mean much. Bobbie and I were both in fifth grade, and had to take a long bus ride to the nearest school. There were only eight fifth-graders and nine sixth-graders that year, so they combined us with those in the sixth grade to make up a class of seventeen. Just before school started Bobbie and I broke the news to her brothers that I was really a boy, and after a lot of shouting Bobbie finally decided to eliminate all doubt. Before I could stop her, she yanked my shorts and underwear down to my knees. During the dead silence that followed I hastily pulled everything up, and hid behind Bobbie, expecting to get pulverized. It turned out that they were embarrassed as I was, and apologized profusely. Bobbie then laid down the law on how I was to be treated, and they seemed to accept her instructions almost meekly. Soon Jordy and his brothers replaced Wonky and his friends as sources of transportation and help for Mom and me. Bobbie and I spent a lot of time together through the school year. At school I had a few problems with other kids because of my long hair and frail appearance, but nothing Bobbie or I couldn't handle. I guess it is really true that time flies when you are having fun, because it was just after we both entered eighth grade that life took a turn for the worse, or at least the weirdest. Although Bobbie and I were so close that many thought differently, we were never sexually intimate. It was more like we were sisters, although I did not realize it at the time. At the start of eighth grade there were two new faces at school, Mark and Tonio. They were almost two years older, and much larger than most of the eighth graders, they dressed like the gang types we would see in videos. Soon they were bullying everyone and making passes at all the girls. When they found out I was a boy they had a field day. The principal was unable to stop them, because they were careful to never do their dirty work where others could witness, and they were allowed to remain in school despite much of their behavior because they were considered "disadvantaged," as they had been removed from their home in the city by the state welfare agency. Finally one Monday, they cornered me behind a building, and after getting no response from taunting me began beating me up and tearing off my clothes. Bobbie heard me and came to my aid, and got a bloody nose before they heard someone else coming and ran away. After a trip to the nurse for repairs we saw the principal, who said he would talk to them, but could not take direct action because there were no "impartial" witnesses. We took the bus back to Bobbie's, where I was able to change into clean clothes so I would not scare my mom too much. But the cuts, bruises and black eye were way too visible, and when Jordy saw Bobbie's nose and my face, he almost lost it. It took Bobbie almost an hour to keep him from going out and killing them then and there. Finally, he agreed to leave them alone until tomorrow, and not to kill or permanently maim them. Jordy then gave me a ride home and assured my mother that I would be all right and that it would never happen again. When he left he had a really strange look on his face. The next morning I hurt all over, but I had promised Bobbie that I would make it to school and meet her on the bus. Her nose was red and swollen, but her smile was enchanting. She muttered something about today being the worst day of the rest of their miserable lives, and then held me close until we reached the school. True to form, Mark and Tonio were laughing at our obvious discomfort, and pointing us out as examples for those that did not do whatever they demanded. Bobbie, however, began baiting them until they were so mad they could hardly see. At the noon break she led me off towards some abandoned buildings near the school, and they followed with blood in their eyes. As soon as we were clear of the school grounds, she pulled me into one of the buildings, gave a high-five to Jordy and several of his huge friends, and we disappeared into the back of the structure. Tonio and Mark charged into the building, and when we heard one of them scream, we headed out the back door and spent the rest of our lunch sitting and talking on the school steps. Neither Tonio nor Mark returned to class that afternoon. When Bobbie and I got off the bus at her house, we saw Jordy and his friends, showing no signs of damage, enjoying a cold beer in the shade. Before we could ask, he said with a smile that the less we knew, the fewer questions we would be able to answer. Bobbie and I looked at each other, and went to fix them dinner. When we arrived at school on Wednesday, the principal asked us to come to his office, and when the door was closed asked us if we knew what had happened to Mark and Tonio. We honestly replied, smiling, that we thought they might have had an accident, and that whatever happened they probably deserved it. He smiled back, and said that he doubted that either individual would be bothering anyone for quite a while. On our way to class we saw a bunch of others pointing at someone and laughing. It turned out that they were pointing at Mark and Tonio. Aside from the black eyes and swollen faces, they were hard to recognize. They were clean-shaven, wearing crew-cuts. They had on regular slacks, dress shirts, and ties. They saw us and looked away quickly. For the rest of the year they avoided us like we were really bad luck. Hehehhee. It was two weeks later that Bobbie showed up at school looking awful. "What's wrong?" I asked, and she pointed to her belly and said "Cramps". "Cramps?" I replied. She gave me a disgusted look, and then I understood. For the rest of the week she was grumpy and moody. I spent a lot of time doing homework. Alone. Soon she was back to her normal self, and life continued onward. After splitting the profit on the acreage that Jordy was now tilling on our land, we had enough money left over to splurge a bit. Mom suggested that I take Bobbie out for a nice dinner, and I agreed. I arranged with Jordy for transportation, and when I went to meet Bobbie I almost fell over. She was wearing a new, body-hugging green dress, and her hair was done in bouncy, flowing waves around her face. In her three-inch heels she towered over me, but I did not care. She was beautiful. I felt what I would later understand as the beginnings of lust, as well as love, and found it a bit hard to walk as I got the biggest erection of my short life. I was dressed in a new pair of slacks and a sports jacket my mother had insisted on getting me. My hair was done in a ponytail and I thought I looked almost human. Jordy had to shake me to get me to focus on him, rather than Bobbie, and as we drove to the restaurant I could not pry my eyes off her. I think dinner was wonderful, but her company was all I could concentrate on. We even danced together a few times, and I found I was actually a decent dancer when coupled with Bobbie. Even if she was taller. By Christmas break Bobbie and I were beginning to get intimate in our affections, and we knew that there was much more than friendship driving our emotions. Mom must have sensed that things were getting warmer fast, as she soon sat us both down for a heart-to-heart talk about love, sex, and teenagers. So I bought condoms and Bobbie saw her doctor and started on the pill. But we decided to try to hold off until we were less confused about our emotions. It was in mid January that I first noticed something wrong with me, but could not place it. Finally I woke up one morning with a terrible ache in my breasts. My nipples were puffy, and there were painful, hard lumps beneath the nipples. A hot shower helped, but even with a soft cotton shirt they itched and hurt all day. Bobbie knew something was bothering me, and when we stopped at her house after school she drew me aside and demanded I tell her what was wrong. I was embarrassed, but finally explained to her about my chest. Her expression was horrified. She then told me to take off my shirt. After examining my chest, she told me to close my eyes and I heard rustling noises. When I was allowed to open them, Bobbie had taken off her blouse and bra and stood half-naked in front of me. I got an instant hard-on, and then my chest started hurting even worse. She sat me down on her bed, and told me that I was going through exactly what she had only a few months before. She pulled out a jar of cream and told me that rubbing this into her breasts had helped greatly. She then opened the jar, put some in her hands, and rubbed it into my breasts. I thought I would scream, the sensation was so intense. It was not just pain; it was as if someone had connected electrodes to every nerve-ending between my brain and my crotch. Suddenly I felt a tremendous rush centered in my crotch, and came all over myself. I was so embarrassed I tried to pull away, but Bobbie was smiling a wicked smile. "I had sort of the same reaction", she chuckled, and asked me if I enjoyed it. I nodded mutely, my body still twitching from the release. After I had cleaned up and gotten dressed, Bobbie pulled out a health manual and began reading. Soon she was shaking her head and began to ask me some rather strange questions. No, I have not felt bloated for several days each month. No, I have not been taking any medications. Yes, my pants are getting tight around the hips and butt. Yes, my pants are getting loose around the waist. No, I have not noticed any change in my voice. Yes, I am growing more hair in my armpits and groin. No, I have not noticed any increase in facial hair. I looked at her as she went over my answers. She was shaking her head, and muttering to herself. When I asked her what was wrong, she replied, "Nothing, if you were a teenage girl." I gave her an inquisitive look. "You are exhibiting exactly the same symptoms as any normal young girl when she enters puberty, except for periods. But you are not a girl." I nodded, the impact of this revelation sinking in. "So you need see a doctor pronto." I again nodded, and then frowned. "Bobbie, you know that until the Christmas bills are paid we don't have any money for doctor bills except Mom's." We argued about this until Bobbie agreed to give me a month or so to see if the problem cleared up. As she began to get up, she got this really wicked smile, and handing me the jar of cream, said, "Now that you know how good it feels, how would you like to rub mine..." I almost hurt myself getting the lid off. It was a wonderful evening I will never forget. By the end of two weeks the lumps had softened and my breasts were no longer aching as much, but were still super-sensitive. I had taken Bobbie's suggestion and began using the cream and wearing a thin, soft undershirt under my regular clothing, which greatly reduced the irritation. By the end of the month I was no longer bothered much by my chest, but my nipples had grown to over twice their original size and both my chest and butt seemed to have grown quite a bit. Since there was no real problem other than these, and money was very tight, she agreed to put off any doctors visits unless something drastic happened. It was late May, just before school was out, when Mom suddenly got very sick. After a check-over by the local public health nurse, at the nurse's recommendation Jordy drove all four of us to the big public hospital at the state capital. We checked Mom into the hospital, and stayed at the local YMCA overnight. In the morning we met with the doctors. The news was all bad. Mom was dying, and had at best weeks to live. We went in to see her, and she held both Bobbie's and my hands. She said she knew she had little time, and told me to go on and enjoy my life. When I told her physician, a Dr. Henry, that I would stay with her to the end, Mom told me that to ease the pain they would have to give her medication that would keep her sleeping. The doctor nodded and asked us to step outside. "She is in a great deal of pain, and does not want you to go through watching her die." Turning to me, he added, "I know you are her daughter, her only child, and want to be with her. Please, respect her wishes. It will make her passing easier." I nodded numbly. I did not see Bobbie draw him aside and explain that I was her son, not her daughter. Looking at me in my thin T- shirt and tight cutoffs, he initially refused to believe her. After she explained what had been happening, he gave me a strange look, and offered to give me a free examination if he could convince me to let my mother pass on in peace. Between the heat, lack of sleep, and stress, I helped everyone along by quietly watching the room spin around as I passed out on the floor. I woke up with Bobbie and the doctor at my side. I was in a hospital bed with an IV stuck in my arm, feeling really weak. I tried to get up. Dr. Henry held me down and said, "Relax Terry, you were dehydrated and overheated. In a couple of hours you should be fine, but I want to keep you under observation until tomorrow." When I tried to protest that I could not afford medical care, the doctor politely informed me that the hospital could take certain cases without charge, and that mine was already approved. I began to relax a bit. Before I could say anything else, I saw him put something into the IV, saying it would help me sleep, and the world quickly went gray. It was a day later that they woke me up. I was a bit stiff from being in bed so long, but I felt calm and rested. Bobbie was at my side with a big smile. When things came fully into focus, Bobbie told me Mom was sleeping comfortably, and would remain mostly asleep until the end. I held her close and cried, but inside realized that this was the best way. She then went and got the doctor, who came in with a nurse and a wheelchair. When I protested that I could walk, they said it was hospital policy, and handing me a robe, they wheeled me down to his office. "While you were asleep, we obtained your mother's permission to give you a complete physical. It made her happy that she could do one final thing for you." I nodded. "Your girlfriend here," he looked at Bobbie "was most enlightening on your medical history, and we were able to retrieve the medical records from your family's accident to use in comparison." I looked at Bobbie and she told me in no uncertain terms that it was her doing and not to complain if I knew what was good for me. I decided to keep quiet. The doctor continued "You sustained significant head injuries during your parent's accident. Since then we have learned a great deal about the effects of damage to certain parts of the brain. So we performed an MRI while you were asleep, and found that there has been damage to the area containing several small glands that help regulate your growth, hormones, and some other functions about which we are still fuzzy." He paused, and looked at his notes. "Other than dehydration and the effects of stress, your blood-work and examination show that you are an extremely healthy twelve-year old. A twelve year old girl." He paused and I stared at him in shock. He continued, "Genetically, you are male. But your body is producing large quantities of both male and female hormones, and other growth regulating substances. The hormones that regulate growth as a female are in much greater supply. So you are going through a girl's puberty. Unfortunately, when glandular damage such as yours is present, it is dangerous to try and change the balance until growth has stabilized." It began to sink in. "I'm turning into a girl..." The doctor shook his head. "Yes and no. Yours is a rather unusual case. Your male parts are working fine, so if you become sexually active, you and your girlfriend," Bobbie blushed furiously "will definitely need to take proper precautions. But the rest of your body thinks it is female, and unless something changes drastically, your exterior appearance will develop fully into that of a young woman over the next few years." He again paused and looked at Bobbie. "She says that you are used to being mistaken for a girl," I nodded sadly. "The best thing you can do is let nature take its course, until such time as you body stabilizes and we can see about bringing your body back into balance." Bobbie handed me some clothes, which I noticed were new, and as the doctor and nurse left they told me I was to check back in every two months, for free, so they could keep track of my progress. Bobbie remained and told me to get dressed. When I asked for privacy, she remarked that girls got dressed in each other's company all the time. I gave her a sour look, removed the robe and hospital gown, and started putting on the new clothes. And stopped suddenly. Instead of briefs she had bought me white cotton panties. "What the..." I exclaimed, and she told me that after measuring me to find the right size she decided that I might as well get used to girl's clothes. I tried to argue, but she was more than normally stubborn, and she had me at a disadvantage. It was either the girl's stuff or go naked. With her help I dressed for the first time as a girl. The panties were full-cut and felt very smooth. Bobbie helped me put on the soft, padded bra, which felt great on my sensitive breasts. The stretch crop-top was really skimpy but cool. But I balked at the short wrap-skirt and three-inch block heels. Bobbie chuckled and pulled out an identical outfit, in her size, from a bag. After brushing out my hair and adding some makeup, she got dressed. In a few minutes we looked like mismatched twins as I wobbled out of the hospital on the heels. Jordy was waiting for us at his truck. His initial reaction was confusion, followed by a poorly suppressed "Wow!" He looked me over like I was a statue. "Terry?" he asked in amazement. I nodded. Shaking his head and mumbling to himself he ushered us both into the truck and headed back towards home. The next week Dr. Henry called, warning me that after Mom died, as I had no living relatives, the child protection people would show up to collect me. I almost panicked. I ran screaming to Bobbie, asking her what I could do if they tried to take me away. We wound up crying on each other for hours. Suddenly she stopped, and looked thoughtful. "They will have a really hard time finding a boy named Terry anywhere in this neighborhood." I gave her a strange look, and asked where she was planning on me running off to with no money. She shook her head, and told me that she had to do some fast work on her idea. So she instructed me to fix dinner to take my mind off my problems. That took several hours, and was ready on time. Despite my being upset, I managed not to burn anything. As we were cleaning up afterwards, we heard a car pull up, and shortly Dr. Henry, and a distinguished looking gentleman in a suit were greeted by Jordy. They adjourned to the living room, and I began to get a very paranoid feeling. Shortly, Bobbie came in and asked me to join them. Jordy introduced the gentleman as "The Distinguished William Strathmore, Esquire", which meant nothing to me, and introduced me as Terry. As he shook my hand I could see a twinkle in his eyes that seemed out of place with his formal appearance. He then explained that Dr. Henry and Bobbie had told him of my mother's impending death, and my fear of being taken away by the child welfare people. I nodded. He then added that Dr. Henry had also described my rather unusual medical problems to him. I felt betrayed, and tried to run out of the room, but Bobbie simply grabbed me, tossed me over her shoulder, and carried me back in. With Jordy making sure I was not going anywhere, he continued. "I am a retired judge, thus the 'honorable' title, and a lawyer specializing in child custody cases. It was I who helped Jordy's family stay together, while I was on the bench. Normally, judicial ethics would prevent me from interceding before the child welfare people have meet their requirements, but Jordy, Bobbie, and Dr. Henry have convinced me that your family history and medical problems make you a special case." He continued, "Bobbie first thought that it would be a simple matter to have Jordy become your guardian or adopt you. Unfortunately, the laws in this state do not allow young, unmarried men to become guardians or adoptive parents unless the child is a relative." I slid down in my chair, trying not to cry. "Then Bobbie came up with a suggestion, which, although it at first seemed crazy, will probably work, at least until you are old enough that the court will be likely to entertain a petition from you for emancipation. And it is the type of idea that makes my old heart glad." I managed to pipe up with "But what can I do? You have said that they won't let Jordy become my guardian." Bobbie piped up. "Can I explain?" Mr. Strathmore nodded. "There were two problems. First, you are not really a relative, so Jordy couldn't become your guardian, and second, the State will be looking for you as soon as your mother dies. So I figured out there was an easy way to duck the state types, and also make it possible for Jordy to take care of you." Bobbie was bouncing up and down with excitement. "So I guess that poor 'boy' Terry will be last seen with his suitcases, taking a bus to the state capital. And my second cousin Terri, spelled with an "i", a girl my age, will be coming to live with us this fall." I slowly sank to the floor, realizing what Bobbie was saying. Dr. Henry spoke up. "Terry, I know that it may seem silly for you to take on a girl's name and demeanor, but as I told you before, you are going to look like one anyway, and you will endure a lot fewer problems as a girl than as a very feminine looking boy." I got up, nodded slowly, having intentionally not faced that question while my mother was still alive. Jordy interjected, "Terry, I wanted to make sure that when your mother dies you get her property. We almost lost this farm because of do-gooders. With their help," he pointed to Mr. Strathmore and Dr. Henry "I obtained a fully witnessed and legal transfer of your mother's property to me to hold in trust for you until you turn 18, so it will not matter whether or not the State can locate you." Bobbie grabbed me. "If you agree, then we can stay together and go to school as cousins!" I passed out quietly. After Dr. Henry used some smelling salts (phew!) to wake me up, I reluctantly agreed that there seemed to be no other alternative. Jordy and Mr. Strathmore told us to go get some rest, as they had papers that needed to be filed the next day. Before I was out of the room, I turned and asked Mr. Strathmore how I was going to become their cousin. He and Dr. Henry smiled, and told me that they would take care of the paperwork. Mom died two days after school was out. Dr. Henry had kept in touch almost daily, so it was not unexpected. He had also contacted the school, so they did not count any of my final work against my grades. That evening, looking as male as possible, I very visibly took a bus to the state capital, and after dropping my two suitcases full of "boy" clothes in a trash bin at the hospital, I emerged as a teenage girl in a denim jumper, accompanied by my uncle Jordy and cousin Bobbie. In my purse was a state ID made out to Terri Elizabeth Williams, complete with a valid Social Security number, and a copy of a notarized letter from the State appointing Jordy as my legal guardian until I turned 18. The next day we notified that state police that Terry had not been seen since he boarded a bus for the capital. True to form, within three days the child protective services sent an officer to collect me. A sign on the door of my old house saying that Jordy McMorrin was the trustee for my mother's estate brought them to our house. Bobbie, Jordy, and I met them at the door. I was scared out of my wits, but Bobbie wanted to make sure that they knew me as her cousin, Terri Williams. They were really upset to hear from the three of us that Terry had not been seen in several days, and that the police were looking for him. They asked us to give them a call if we heard from Terry, and said that they would leave the matter in the hands of the police. We all broke out laughing after they pulled out of the yard. Jordy then mentioned that, since one of his best friends was now in charge of the missing persons section of the local trooper detachment, the police would not be looking too hard. Bobbie and I went up to our room, and did some very un-sisterlike snuggling before it was time to fix dinner. Over the summer I learned to walk, talk, and act like a teenaged girl. Dr. Henry provided a letter for the school excusing me from all gym classes, so I would not have to undress in front of 'real' girls. I learned to use the ladies rooms when we were out, which scared me half to death. My breasts and hips grew quickly. And I learned how to make love with Bobbie. As a boy and as a girl. Finally, it was time to begin high school. To make sure that I was not clearly recognized as Terry, my now much-longer hair was dyed a strawberry blonde, and I wore clingy clothes and really short skirts that emphasized the female aspects of my figure. Bobbie found me a gaff, which effectively hid my male parts from prying eyes. It helped that I was quite small down there, but Bobbie did not seem to mind. It took me much longer to learn how to handle testosterone- saturated teenage boys than to adapt to acting like a girl. Yeech, what a bunch of monkeys. I found that school was easy for me, and the courses required of all the female students, such as home economics, were a breeze. Probably the hardest part was not being able to hold and snuggle Bobbie when others were around. Even then there were some rumors that we were truly "kissing" cousins, as neither of us had a boyfriend. To keep people guessing, we periodically made sure that letters were sent to Bobbie postmarked from across the country saying that I (Terry) was okay and that I would come back when I was old enough. Mr. Strathmore made sure that all of the benefit money I was entitled to from Mom and Dad's Social Security benefits was placed in a trust fund. Dr. Henry had me keep coming back in for my checkups, and as he predicted, I developed externally as a girl. What he did not predict was that I was also developing emotionally as a girl. When he realized that I was no longer thinking of myself as a boy he consulted several of his colleagues in the psychiatric professions, and at their urging decided not to bring this up until it became a problem. And develop I did. Instead of being a tiny, frail boy I grew into a small, shapely girl. I was by no means beautiful; rather, I was the ubiquitous "girl next door". I remained smaller than Bobbie, who was beginning to look a bit like the character Red Sonja from the Conan cartoons. In the summer after my sophomore year both Bobbie and I turned sixteen. It was on a warm August evening of the same summer that my life again became turbulent. Dr. Henry and Mr. Strathmore dropped in after dinner, and asked Bobbie, Jordy and me to meet with them in the living room. Since they had become regular visitors, the formalities seemed a bit odd, but Bobbie and I joined them without apprehension. Mr. Strathmore began "Terri, it is time for you to make a very important decision." I suddenly felt chilled. "You are now old enough to petition the court for emancipation, and return to being, at least legally, the male Terry." He looked at me. "If you want to, that is." I looked at him in shock. Dr. Henry broke in. "Terri, I have been watching your development, both physical and mental, since we first met. I had not anticipated that you would adapt so fully to being a girl, and now a young woman." He paused "So I consulted some of my colleagues who specialize in gender issues, and they told me to let you grow and develop without interference. During the last few visits to the Hospital I had them observe you on closed-circuit TV, and they have interviewed both Bobbie and Jordy to help them understand you better." I looked at Bobbie and she was smiling, but I could see a tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I realized that what he was saying made sense, as I long ago ceased to think of myself as a boy, or a man, except when making love to Bobbie. Dr. Henry continued. "According to my colleagues, except for your male plumbing, and your obvious attraction to at least one female," I watched Bobbie blush. "there are absolutely no signs that you are, or ever were, male. You move, act, respond, and appear as a normal, well- adjusted young lady." I nodded, not quite sure where this was going. "So they told me that it was time to get you some counseling and for you to decide if you want to attempt to return to being the male Terry, or to plan on spending the rest of your life as a woman." Bobbie pulled me to her and gave me a really long hug "Terri, I love you. I will love you either way." I looked at Dr. Henry, still confused. He continued. "It appears that your body changes are nearly complete, and the levels of hormones in your body have stabilized. This means that if we are going to try to return you to being the male Terry, we will need to begin giving you male hormones, and start reconstructive surgery." I cringed, as I had seen more than enough of the insides of hospitals. "But the best we can offer is that you will wind up as small, delicately featured man with a slightly feminine bone structure." I looked at Dr. Henry, then at Mr. Strathmore and Bobbie. "And my other options, I take it, are to remain like I am or have surgery to make me into a pseudo-woman?" I posed the question to them all. "Yes." was Dr. Henry's reply. I looked at Bobbie. Mr. Strathmore added, "From a legal standpoint in this state, you can remain as you are and be considered legally a female for most purposes, except marriage. You might even be eligible for protection against discrimination since yours is a medical condition. To become the male Terry you simply have to show up and obtain new identification, although you will probably need a letter from Dr. Henry verifying that you are actually a boy, despite your appearance." "Dr. Henry, what do you, your associates, and Mr. Strathmore think is my best option?" I tried to sound calm, but it was an obvious facade. They both looked at Bobbie, who nodded shakily "The psychologists recommended that you consider surgical procedures to bring the rest of your physical body into alignment with your mental state. They indicated that it would eliminate many of not all of the problems that you could encounter in employment and other endeavors caused by intolerant people." He looked at me, then at Bobbie. "It would also make it impossible for you to marry Bobbie, or to father children." I sank down to the floor, and Bobbie gathered me into her arms and carried me over to the couch where she held me until I stopped shaking. "I love you the way you are." she said loudly. "And I want to have your children." I looked at her and broke down completely. It was quite a while before I was able to speak. "Do I have to become the male Terry again to marry Bobbie?" Mr. Strathmore looked at both of us, and smiled, shaking their heads. Bobbie hugged me so hard I had trouble breathing. "No. Because Terry, your male alter-ego, still legally exists." He chuckled. "Once you are married, you will have to petition the court for a permanent name change. I do not believe that, with the assistance of Dr. Henry and his associates, it will be difficult to convince them of the need for you to become a woman for identification purposes." "How old do I have to be before I can marry Bobbie?" She started bouncing up and down. "Sixteen." I gave Bobbie a long, very un-ladylike kiss. When we finally disentangled, I stood up and knelt before her. "Bobbie, will you marry me?" I took her flying tackle as a yes. When her tears finally subsided, Dr. Henry spoke up. "Think carefully about what you plan to do. I will discuss this with my colleagues, who I suspect will want to talk to you both. Bill (he looked at Mr. Strathmore) has already said he will perform a private ceremony. But we have to be going." He looked at Bobbie and me. So you two lovebirds get some rest, and I will update you tomorrow. Several hugs later they departed, leaving Bobbie and me alone. Jordy was a bit upset by our tear-stained faces when we left the study, but the smiles we gave him said everything was fine. Bobbie and I spent the remainder of the evening enjoying each other's intimate company. And planning a very small and private wedding, and our future. --Finis