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Sister, Sister, Sister - Part 11 free porn video
Sister, Sister, Sister - Part 11
By Missy Crystal
Beth made a couple of phone calls and asked Mom if she would drive her
to Cindy's house. Mom offered to drop Susie and me off at Mrs.
Johnson's, but I knew Beth was anxious to get going and her friend's
house was in the opposite direction. It was only a few blocks and I
told Mom that we would walk. Susie and I left and, when we reached the
sidewalk, she took my hand. It made me feel really special. It wasn't
until we arrived at Mrs. Johnson's front door that it struck me she
might not be home on a Saturday afternoon. I rang the doorbell and
waited. A few minutes later she opened the door. It took her a moment
to recognize who it was with the long blond hair.
"Jenny, you look lovely." Then she noticed Susie. "And Susie, so do
you. I love your new hairstyles. Please come in."
As soon as we were in, Susie gushed, "Oh, Mrs. Johnson, we had the best
day ever. Mom took us to Mr. Kenneth's salon to have our hair done and
we had a party and we got beautiful presents. See." She held up her
wrist to show off her bracelet. "It's real gold and it has my name on
it. And Jenny got a pretty wig and a real gold necklace with her name
on it too."
Mrs. Johnson was impressed. "My, my Susie, this certainly was an
exciting day. And that is quite a beautiful bracelet." She called
upstairs, "Kelly, Susie's here and she has something for you to see."
A minute later Kelly came bounding down the stairs. She stopped short
when she saw us.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "Your cousin looks great. Susie, you look really
cute." I don't think Susie was happy with 'really cute.' She was
probably hoping for her friend to die with jealousy. Kelly wasn't about
to give her the satisfaction, although her next question gave her away.
"Mom, can I get my hair styled?"
Mrs. Johnson gave her the usual mother's response, "We'll see dear."
Susie held up her wrist. If her new hairstyle didn't work, the bracelet
was bound to do the job.
"I got a new bracelet too. It's real gold and it's got my name on it.
See, 'Susie'. Mr. Kenneth our hairdresser gave it to me when he did my
hair at his salon."
"Nice," Kelly, replied. "Can I wear it?"
Susie's face lit up with satisfaction.
"Well, I don't know, it is very special and it does have my name on
it," she said coyly.
"I have a gold locket with my initials on it," Kelly bargained. "It has
a gold chain too. I'll let you wear it, if I can wear your bracelet.
Please?"
The please did it.
"Okay, but just for a little while," Susie bargained.
Kelly and Susie went upstairs to swap jewelry, leaving me with Mrs.
Johnson. She came closer and looked at my wig.
"That is a beautiful hairpiece, Jenny. Very natural."
"Thank you," Mrs. Johnson," I said politely. "I love wearing it and I'm
going to hate myself when I have to go back to being Johnny."
To my surprise, Mrs. Johnson frowned.
"Jenny, you've said something that is troublesome. I'd like to talk to
you about it."
"I didn't mean to make you upset," I said apologetically.
Mrs. Johnson's smile returned.
"For someone whose profession is talking to people, I'm afraid I didn't
express myself very well. It's not what you said that's troublesome.
It's how it can make things difficult for you later on. Please come sit
with me and we can discuss it. Okay?"
"Sure, Mrs. Johnson," I agreed.
We went into the living room. She pointed to the sofa and I sat down.
She sat in an arm chair across from me with a coffee table separating
us. She adjusted her skirt and crossed her legs, placing her hands in
her lap.
"Do you remember what you just said, Jenny?"
"I think so," I answered her. "I said I love my wig."
She shook her head.
"You did say that, but there was more. Do you remember?"
I thought back. Mrs. Johnson had complimented me about my wig. I
thanked her and said what I just said. Was there more? Nothing came to
me. I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, but I just can't remember anything else. Susie was right.
Today was the best day of my life and that's all I can think about," I
explained.
"I understand," Mrs. Johnson said reassuringly. "We can start from
there. I'm going to ask you some questions. Please relax, Jenny.
There's no right or wrong answer, just say whatever comes into your
mind. Okay?"
"Sure. No problem."
"Why was this the best day of your life?"
"That's easy," I answered quickly. "It's because I got to spend it as
Jenny and to feel like a real girl. I didn't tell you this part, but,
on our way to the party, Beth dragged me into one of the fancy women's
stores and the salesgirl actually showed me a bra and asked if I wanted
to try it on." I laughed. "She even thought I was going to have," I
hesitated, "well, breasts."
"That's okay, Jenny. You don't have to be embarrassed talking to me.
It is very important for you to be honest and you have my promise that
everything we say is confidential."
"I trust you, Mrs. Johnson," I assured her. "I know you are trying to
help me and I know that I need to tell you the truth."
Mrs. Johnson nodded.
"Good. Now then," she continued, "tell me, who's Johnny?"
I gave her a puzzled look.
"You know who he is, Mrs. Johnson. He's me when I'm a boy," I answered.
"I see. Is Johnny here now?"
I shook my head.
"No, I'm a girl, so Jenny's here."
"If Jenny is here, then where is Johnny? Is he in your room at home?"
Now I was really confused.
"Johnny's not anywhere," I tried to explain. "He's just who I am when I
go to school as a boy."
"What happens to him the rest of the time?"
"He becomes Jenny."
"How does he become Jenny?"
"He changes, I mean I change clothes."
"How does changing your clothes make you a different person?"
I tried to answer the question, but I couldn't.
"I don't know," I said with tears in my eyes. "I don't know Mrs.
Johnson. I just want Johnny to go away. I don't like him. I don't
want to be him. Please, Mrs. Johnson, please. You have to help me.
That's why I came over today. I wanted to ask you to do something, so
that I can be Jenny all the time," I sobbed.
Mrs. Johnson came over and sat beside me. She put her arms around me
gently and I rested my head on her shoulder as my tears continued to
flow. When I finally calmed down, she got up and brought me some
tissues. Then she sat down in her chair.
"Jenny, I want to help you. That is what I am trying to do now and you
have made progress. The fact that you can talk to me about your
feelings is an excellent beginning. You need to understand something
and we are almost there. It is always better if a person finds their
own solution with my guidance. Do you feel up to trying?"
I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
"Okay."
"Would you like some more tissues?"
"No, thank you. Well," I reconsidered, "maybe, just in case."
Mrs. Johnson got up and brought over a box of tissues. She put it on
the coffee table. Then she went back to her chair.
"Let's try it a little differently. The clothes you are wearing, are
those yours?"
"No, they're Beth's. She shares her clothes with me, except for our
panties. Mom thought we should have our own, so Beth gave me some of
her old ones," I explained.
Mrs. Johnson nodded.
"What if Beth wanted to borrow some of your clothes? Would you let
her?"
I gave Mrs. Johnson another puzzled look.
"Sure, if she wanted to, but why would she? Her clothes are much nicer
than mine."
"Well, one reason might be that boy's clothes are usually looser fitting
and more comfortable than girl's clothes," she suggested. "Beth doesn't
get dressed up when she's at home, does she?"
"No, you're right. She usually wears jeans and a pullover top. But
they're still girl's clothes," I insisted.
Mrs. Johnson smiled.
"For the sake of our discussion, let's pretend that she did borrow your
clothes. If she wore them, would that make her a boy?"
"Of course not!" I responded emphatically.
"Why not?" Mrs. Johnson asked me.
"Why not what? I don't understand the question."
"If you are a girl when you wear Beth's clothes, then why isn't she a
boy when she wears your clothes?"
"Because," I tried to explain, "because she was born a girl. That's who
she is. I, well, I should have been born a girl too, Mrs. Johnson, it's
not fair. I am a girl and when I wear girl's clothes that makes me feel
like one." I started to cry again.
Mrs. Johnson got up and handed me the box of tissues. She sat down next
to me and held me again.
"We're almost there, Jenny," she comforted me.
After a while, I got myself together. Mrs. Johnson went back to her
chair.
"This is what I do as a psychologist. I try to talk my clients through
their problems. Usually it takes months, sometimes even years. We
don't have that kind of time, Jenny, so I am going to explain what this
was all about. Are you ready?"
I nodded.
"You said that Beth would still be a girl if she wore boy's clothes,
because that is who she is, right?"
"Yes," I answered with a sniffle.
"And you also said that you are a girl when you wear girl's clothes,
because that is who you are, right?
"Right."
"If Beth is a girl, even when she wears boy's clothes, because that is
who she is, then why aren't you a girl, even when you wear boy's
clothes, because that is who you are?"
I looked blankly at Mrs. Johnson. I didn't have an answer.
She smiled.
"Jenny, you are the same person in boy's clothes as you are in girl's
clothes. Remember when I asked you where Johnny was if Jenny was here.
Do you know the answer to that question now?"
"I think so. He's here too," I said hesitatingly.
"Yes, Jenny, he's here too. You are not two different people who come
and go by the way you are dressed. You are one whole person. It is
very important for you to always remember that. Our names, our clothes
and how we act are all clues we give to other people to help them
recognize our gender, whether we are male or female, but they don't make
us who we are."
Mrs. Johnson sat next to me and took my hands.
"Do you remember now what it was you said that I found troublesome?"
I thought about our conversation, but nothing came to mind.
"No, I'm really sorry," I apologized.
"That's okay, Jenny. I will tell you. What you said was that you were
going to hate yourself when you had to go back to being Johnny. Do you
see why that concerned me?"
"You mean about my not wanting to go back to being Johnny?"
"That's part of what you said, but think some more about how you said
it, please."
I went over the words in my mind. Then it struck me.
"I said that I was going to hate going back to being Johnny!"
Mrs. Johnson nodded.
"Yes. Now do you see?"
"I think so. It's because, if I hate being Johnny, I hate myself. Is
that right?"
"Yes, Jenny. That's right. The worst thing a person can do is to hate
himself. Or herself," she added. "You don't really hate yourself, do
you?"
I shook my head.
"No, I like myself. I am very happy with who I am. I just wish
everyone else felt the same way."
Mrs. Johnson squeezed my hands.
"Good. Now, one thing I like to do is have someone I've worked with
tell me in their own words what we've accomplished. It gives me
confidence that they really do understand. Would you try, please,
Jenny?"
"Well," I hesitated, trying to say it just right, "even though I'm a
girl, I don't have to not be a boy."
It took Mrs. Johnson a minute to sort out the sentence. Then she nodded
her approval.
"Yes. A girl isn't any less of a girl because she does things boys
do." She looked at me sympathetically. "Jenny, I do believe you will
get your wish; but it's not magic. It doesn't happen overnight like in
the storybooks. You have to be patient."
I laughed and Mrs. Johnson gave me a curious look.
"What's so funny?" she asked me.
"Well, when we were at my birthday party at the mall, they brought in a
cake and I made a wish when I blew out the candles. I guess I can tell
you, without spoiling it." I laughed again. "I made the opposite wish
from Pinocchio. He wanted to be a real boy and I wanted the Blue Fairy
to turn me into a real girl."
"Sorry, Jenny," Mrs. Johnson said with a grin, "the Blue Fairy doesn't
deal with transgendered people, but I do know someone who could help
your wish come true."
"Really, Mrs. Johnson, who?" I asked excitedly.
"Her name is Freda Goldfarb. She's a psychiatrist I met at a
conference. She specializes in gender dysphoria. That's a fancy
medical term for people who are unhappy with their birth sex. You'd be
surprised, Jenny. There are more people like you than you would think.
I spoke with her and she would like to see you. I will call your mother
and give her the information.
"Wow, Mrs. Johnson, thank you," I said. Then I reached up and gave her
a hug. She hugged me back. Boy's don't know what their missing by not
being able to show their feelings, I thought.
After we finished our tender moment, Mrs. Johnson looked at her watch.
"Oh my, it's getting late and I wanted to get to the grocery store.
Jenny, would you do me a big favor and keep an eye on the girls while I
run out. I won't be gone more than an hour."
Mrs. Johnson's request took me by surprise.
"Are you sure, Mrs. Johnson? I don't know the first thing about being a
babysitter."
"Just let your maternal instinct guide you," Mrs. Johnson said with a
grin.
"What's that?" I asked her?
"Oh," she explained, "that's what helps mother animals to care for their
young."
"Well," I kidded her back, "if you're right, it's going to be a while
before I have one of those."
That pretty much cracked her up.
"Seriously, Jenny. Susie and Kelly can take care of themselves, but
children shouldn't be left alone in the house, in case there's an
emergency. I'll pay you five dollars. That's the going rate for
babysitters."
"What's your going rate for counseling?" I asked.
"Eighty-five dollars an hour, why?"
"Because I have to work off what I owe you. Besides, I'd love to spend
some time with the girls. You do your shopping. We'll be fine until
you get back," I assured her.
"Jenny, that's very sweet, but you don't owe me anything. I don't
charge my friends for helping them."
"Neither do I," I replied.
"I better give you a quick tour before I go. Follow me."
I had only been in the hall and the living room. She showed me the
kitchen, opened the refrigerator and some cabinets and told me to help
myself to milk and cookies, if I got hungry. There was a family room
off of the kitchen, with a TV. It had the same setup as the one at our
house. Then we went upstairs to Kelly's room. The door was open. It
was done in pastel colors, with aqua carpet and white furniture. Along
one wall was a low bookcase with dolls and games. Susie and Kelly were
in the middle of the room, doing something with string.
"Kelly, Susie, I'm going to go shopping for a bit," Mrs. Johnson
announced to the girls. "Jenny is going to stay with you. I won't be
gone long."
She tuned and left. Susie immediately got up and came over to me. She
took my hand and led me back to where she and Kelly were playing.
"We're doing cat's cradle," Kelly explained, "but were having trouble
with this one. She pointed to a book on the floor next to her with a
diagram. Can you help us?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I've never done this before, but let me
take a look. Three heads are better than two.
The girls laughed.
I went over and sat down next to Kelly, crossing my legs and adjusting
my skirt. I picked up the book and compared what it showed to what
Kelly was holding.
"That looks right, so far. I think that Susie has to take these two
strings here," I pointed to one upper and one lower, "and bring them
over these two."
Susie reached in, put the strings on her fingers and held them while
Kelly withdrew her fingers, then she moved her hands apart to tighten
them up.
"Neat. Thanks Jenny. Let's see, next I think we do the same thing
again."
She reached in and moved the strings under and around. A few more
exchanges and finished the design.
"There." Kelly ended up with the string and showed it off to me.
"Thanks so much, Jenny."
"No problem, Kelly. You girls are really whizzes at this. Do you think
you could teach me?"
"You don't know how to play cat's cradle, Jenny?" Kelly asked
skeptically.
"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "I only have a brother, so I didn't
get to play girl's games." I made a silly face at Susie and she broke
into giggles.
Kelly turned to see what was so funny, then turned back to me and
shrugged.
"It's really easy, Jenny. We can do the basic one first. Here."
Kelly took the long loop of string they had been using and put it over
my middle three fingers of each hand.
"Spread your fingers and then make an inside loop with these fingers,"
she instructed me.
It took a bit of practice, but after a while I could get thorough the
first six stages. I was really pleased with my accomplishment and I was
even happier with the chance to spend time with these two sweet girls.
In fact, the time went by so quickly that we were still playing when I
looked up and saw Mrs. Johnson standing in the doorway.
"I see you managed quite nicely, Jenny," she said approvingly.
"Actually, Mrs. Johnson, it was Kelly and Susie who took care of me," I
told her. "They taught me how to play cat's cradle. I probably had
more fun then they did."
"Uh, Uh," Kelly defended me. "Jenny helped us do a hard one. I like
her Mommy, can she be my babysitter for real?"
"That's up to her, Kelly. I like her too and next time I'm going out, I
will see if she is available. Is that okay, Jenny?"
Mrs. Johnson looked at me and smiled.
"More than okay, Mrs. Johnson," I replied. "I'm always available when
I'm not in school," which of course she knew was true and why.
Just then the telephone rang. Mrs. Johnson answered it.
"Hello. Oh, hi Carol. Yes, the girls are still here. I had to run out
and Jenny babysat for a bit. No, not at all. In fact, Kelly is quite
taken with her. She wants her to be her babysitter from now on. Oh,
before I forget, I need to give you some information. I don't have it
here. I'll give you a call later. Uh, huh, right. Jenny and Susie
should be leaving soon. Okay. Talk to you later. Bye."
"Jenny, I'm glad we had a chance to chat. Susie, I'll see you next week
after school."
Mrs. Johnson walked us to the door. We left and Susie took my hand. I
looked down and saw that she wasn't wearing her bracelet. We went back,
rang the bell and got it. Then we headed home. Susie looked up at me
and squeezed my hand, her way of saying thank you for watching out for
her. I squeezed back to let her know that was what big sisters were
for.
Kierra
- 11.10.2022
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