Andy
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Andy 18 free porn video
Andy by Transbonder, translated by Leah from the German
EIGHTTEEN
I don't remember how I got home. I was trying to think but my head was
completely empty.
Nevertheless I had somehow made it here. I'd always smiled at Mom when
she took a siesta. Now I had an urgent need for one. I went to my room,
just pulled my shoes off, and lay myself in bed.
An hour later I felt better. There was so much to think about, that I
didn't know where I was supposed to begin.
Should I delay puberty at all? However, this question wasn't so easy to
answer: I needed more time. And with puberty conditions were created
that weren't reversible, that much I knew. That means there is no choice.
I went to the telephone and made an appointment. In a week they said, and
that was supposedly especially quick.
I undressed and checked the small swellings on my chest. Really they
didn't amount to much, but afterwards they'd feel pretty substantial.
Well, I would apparently grow breasts. I could scarcely believe it. How
big would they get?
The breast forms were actually the ideal covering, because they were
somewhat hollowed out inside. A thick padding protected against all
surrounding effects. I ran a finger across one. Unbelievably sensitive.
About like a bruise, an haematoma. Would things stay that way?
In about a week I had to go to school again. And I wanted to do that as
Andreas, of that I was positive. Could I bring it off?
I took one of my undershirts. At least it was the closest to a normal
undershirt in the little-girl style, everything else had too much lace or
was made of some other material. Although the shirt was soft cotton, it
did not feel comfortable. It hurt.
At any rate that wasn't going to work. I looked for another solution. In
the lingerie I had bought myself there was a chemise made of pure silk.
It was very lovely with its spaghetti straps, lace bordered the open neck
and a flounce at the hem. Of course that was useless for school, but I
just wanted to try out the material.
Hmm, that felt pretty good. I still felt my tiny breasts, but it didn't
hurt any more. But the tiny swellings showed through quite significantly.
I pulled a sweater over them.
It still felt good but I couldn't go to school like this. People could
clearly see the budding breasts pressing through like two small marbles.
What could I do? I'd have to talk with Mom. Maybe she'd have an idea.
After all she'd grown breasts once.
##
To divert my thoughts I'd fixed supper again. There wasn't much at hand,
but I had no desire to go shopping. I decided on frozen fish filets. The
cookbook produced a recipe for mustard sauce.
A half hour before Mom would come I put the potatoes on. I'd killed time
by reading in an internet cooking forum. The sauce was made with flour
for thickening, and that was supposed to be hard? Worry about lumps?
I kept to the recipe and had no problems at all. It was all rather simple
-- and not a lump to be seen.
Then I heard the house door opening and greeted Mom. "Hello."
"Hello, Sweetheart. Goodness you're so little up top today?"
"I'll explain it to you later. Let's eat first."
"I could get used to this. The meal is ready and the kitchen even looks
neat."
The praise did me good. After a bad beginning for the day, it really
built me up.
After our meal Mom said, "OK, now tell. How was it at the psychologist?"
"He wants me to take hormones."
That shocked her. "Whaaat?"
Then I told her everything in detail.
"OK, so you are as much as two-thirds girl?"
"But he said, that was probably just temporary. Because of puberty."
"Yes, I can follow that. And therefore the idea to delay puberty is not
bad at all. What disturbs me is the business about your breasts. Exactly
what did he say about that?"
"That no matter way they were going to grow more anyway. But not as much
as with girls, since they have a lot more hormones."
"Actually only an expert will be able to make a prognosis. A psychologist
isn't the right person."
"I already made an appointment with an endocrinologist. Next week."
"Good, then let's wait for what he has to say. You can't really go to
school like that." She motioned toward my chest. "Unless of course you go
as Andrea."
"No, my mind is made up to go as Andreas. I just put this stuff on to see
whether they are visible."
"Yes, they are. Clearly. It won't work like this."
"But with a normal undershirt it won't be possible. It hurts."
"Yes, that happens sometimes when they are growing. Above all in the
beginning. That lessens after some time."
"Then it doesn't hurt any more?"
"No. But they are often sensitive."
"Does it stay that way?"
"Only in the beginning are they so sensitive that it hurts.
"Later touching can feel good. But that is different with every woman.
And it changes during their cycle." She shook her head. "I would have
never dreamed that I'd be talking with my son about growing breasts."
"Mom, do you have any idea how I can conceal them without it hurting?"
"Concealment was never something I worried about, quite the opposite. I
liked to wear a softly padded bra."
"But I can't do that."
"I have an idea. You could use a sport bra."
"I cannot go to school with a bra."
"Not so hasty. You really aren't at all familiar with sport bras."
"Yes, I am. I've already seen Biene in one."
"And, how did it look?"
I couldn't give her an answer. I was only aware of the bra as a small
piece of clothing.
"Ah ha, just looking at breasts and not seeing anything else."
I looked down at the floor in shame.
"The one-third boy is sometimes fairly dominant. A sport bra is similar
to a snug undershirt, that has been cut off in the middle. It has no yoke
or decorations. It sits tight, so that the breasts are pressed against
the body and aren't disturbed during athletics."
"And so nobody sees the breasts any more?"
"At least less. In the beginning they are still so pointy. But I have an
idea. We can use breast-pads."
"What's that?"
"When a mother has a baby, her milk in her breast-"
"Mom! I'm not a child any more!"
"Yes, I probably forget that sometimes. There are breast-pads for the
bra, that absorb milk."
"Breasts leak?"
"Well, maybe you aren't so grown up after all? Yes, it can happen that
milk comes out. For that they have these pads, which suck it up. They are
very soft."
With those words she had my full attention.
"In any event, they can prevent your breasts from pushing through so
pointedly."
"Won't people see that?"
"I really don't think so. A number of boys have a little fat that looks
almost exactly the same. We just have to try it out." After a breath, she
continued, "Since you were to nice as to do the cooking, let's go
shopping. Change your clothes."
It didn't take us long to buy a bra in a sporting goods store and then
breast-pads in the drugstore.
Now I put on the newly-bought bra and afterward observed myself in the
mirror. Yes, not bad. It was agreeable even if it fit rather tightly. And
my breasts were less conspicuous, even if they could be seen a little.
Now I took one of the breast-pads. It was nothing more than a circular
pad of cotton in a very soft fleecy form. I placed one over a breast.
Hmm, that felt good. It was hardly detectable, but my breasts were
practically invisible. I pulled a sweater over them.
I looked at myself critically in the mirror. At first from the front.
Couldn't see anything unusual. From the side, too, and when I pulled the
sweater firmly over them there was nothing to see.
I went to Mom. She gave her critical opinion.
"It appears to work."
"Yeah, I think so, too. But what do I do if they get larger?"
"In the beginning they are quite pointy, that's why they show up so
easily. Later they get rounder and broader, then they can't be seen so
easily. Naturally, of course, until they achieve a certain size."
"Supposedly they're not to get very large," I said almost in regret.
"Just wait. It all depends on your genes. In my family the women tend to
have somewhat larger breasts. But that's all in the future. Even if you
were a girl, your breasts wouldn't be very large in a few months. And in
your case it'll take even longer. Let's just wait now to see what the
endocrinologist says."
I nodded. As I did that I looked at my fingers and the little art works
on the nails. "What do I do with these?"
"You'll have to make an appointment with the salon. I hope they still
have some open spots."
"It's more than a week?"
"Murphy's Law: Always when you need an appointment, you can't get one.
Now it is too late, but tomorrow you should call right away."
"What about my hair?"
"You'll have to ask the people who did the work on it. Or go to school
that way."
"But that's too feminine!"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Up to now that doesn't appear to have
bothered you."
"Yes, it's great being Andrea. But no boy has hair like this."
"Nevertheless you have to come up with some idea. You can only go to Mrs.
Weber's as a girl."
I hadn't thought about that at all. What would she say about short
fingernails? Oh man, why does everything have to be so complicated!
##
Next morning my breasts appeared to me to be larger. Well, one or two
millimeters more were after all a 10% or 20% increase. In any case, they
hurt, I could barely touch them.
Was it like this for all girls? I felt an urgent need to ask Svenja or
Biene. But Biene had gone away with her parents; they would be gone the
entire week. What Svenja was up to I didn't know, at any rate she wasn't
answering her telephone.
I would really have liked to hear their own experiences. Surely girls
spoke to each other about this, they were rather open in such things,
really quite different from my pals.
Carefully I rubbed them with skin cream. That seemed to help some. I
waited until the cream was absorbed and pulled on the silk top. The cool
silk was very agreeable.
I wasn't interested in the breast forms because I would have to wear them
this afternoon for babysitting. I hoped by then my breasts wouldn't be so
sensitive.
What should I wear? I felt like a little girl entering puberty, and in
this mood I put on one of the dresses. It simply seemed appropriate. The
plain red one with the blossoms on the hem. My small breasts were clearly
delineated. Is that how girls really look? I'd never paid attention. In
my memory they were either completely flat or had real breasts. And in
fact it hadn't been all that long ago that they had gotten them. Why
didn't that attract my attention? Did they hide them? Then Mom's
explanation about the padded bra came back. That would explain it.
What should I do this morning? I seated myself at the computer. Something
that I had rarely done in recent days totally in contrast to the time
before I became a girl.
And I didn't play now either, instead I looked up breast development.
There were thousands of web pages, but none of them helped me much. Many
asked questions in forums just as I had, too, but there were no
satisfying answers. The stuff that was usually described I already knew
about. Naturally not quite in such detail as I now knew, but that hadn't
been at all the goal of my search.
After an hour I gave up. With more knowledge, but still dissatisfied. In
spite of everything it seemed that for many girls things went like they
were going for me, my painful and quite hard breast buds appeared to be
plentifully distributed. Even if there were a lot of girls for whom that
wasn't the case.
In any case I'd talk with Biene and Svenja about that as soon as I had
the chance. Until very recently I'd never have dreamed of wanting to
speak with them about something like this. But I had changed so much. I
was glad to have them, and to be able to talk to them as girls. My pals
would be absolutely no help, even if they themselves had gynecomastia.
##
Mark greeted me as lively as ever. That was a stupendous piece of
normality. After the greeting I asked Mrs. Weber, "Could you give me the
telephone number of the salon? I have to make an appointment."
"An appointment? Has something happened?"
"No. But in school long fingernails are not allowed." After much thought
this excuse had come to me.
"That's too bad. They look so nice."
"I think so, too," I said with a fair degree of genuine sadness.
"I'll donate to you a set of new fingernails for the next vacation," she
said consolingly.
If she just weren't always so darn nice! "Thanks. But that's too much-"
"Rubbish. You've earned it. Speaking of that, what are we eating?"
Now I had to grin. "What are you hungry for?"
"Garlic!" crowed Mark between us.
"I fear I have totally spoiled your son."
Now she smiled. "I think not. It has effectively driven away his night
goblins, because they don't like garlic."
"Ah ha." That explained the rather unusual desire for garlic in one of
his age.
Then she sighed. "Tomorrow can you wear the same dress as he does again?
He's nagged me terribly. I only hope that this passes soon."
"Sure, I can do that." Anyway I felt like a much younger girl whose
breasts were only just growing. Ha.
And with that she left me alone with the children without telling me what
she wanted to eat.
First I went to the telephone and called the salon. They were closed on
Monday. Tuesday was booked up. But Wednesday. But then I had to go to the
endocrinologist and had no idea how long that would take. Friday? Right
before the weekend, no chance. I just barely got an appointment on
Thursday. "Only for regular customers." That probably meant that the last
time I'd left sufficient money behind. Mrs. Weber's money.
This time I would have to pay for myself. Would any of my money ever be
left? In this respect my job up to now was a genuine flop. On the other
hand, my clothes closet was full.
That brought me to the next problem: Would I have to buy myself new
things? I needed at least a pair of pants. If necessary, underwear could
wait. I was afraid that the salon visit would be expensive. Then I
wouldn't have any money for it, and no one sees underwear anyway.
Except in gym class. Oh boy. With my breasts that was going to be
impossible. In the thin jersey they would be seen plainly by everyone. I
couldn't allow that to happen. How could I avoid it?
But now Mark reminded me of more important problems: What's to eat? With
a lot of garlic?
I got the cookbook. Oh, that looked good: Pork neck and cheese crust.
Just the picture made my mouth water.
But first came shopping. I had mixed feelings. At the market things
hadn't gone exactly good.
So I spoke to Mark's conscience. I was interested in seeing whether it
would help.
It did. Shopping went off without a hitch, even Lena gurgled at me from
the carrying cloth in satisfaction. I think the last time she hadn't been
put in quite right and the uncomfortable position caused her to express
herself rather loudly.
And the meal was really delicious - with an ample infusion of garlic.
##
The days passed quickly. For once, because this was vacation time, I was
also at Mrs. Weber's on the weekend. This fed money into my treasury; I
only hoped it was enough.
Then came Wednesday and I had to go to the endocrinologist. I went with
highly mixed emotions. All those really confusing thoughts, which had
almost been forgotten, were stirred up again.
Should I really do it? In the recent weeks my breasts had become as large
as walnuts. And they still often hurt.
At first I didn't get to see the doctor because they had to draw blood.
Then I got to see him briefly, emphasis on briefly. He came into the room
fairly hectically where I had already been waiting half an hour. A quick
physical examination of my breasts and he was gone again. Completely
taken aback I got dressed again.
I was supposed to come again the next day, but I had to go to the salon
and I could not change that. So against my will I got an appointment for
Friday -- that probably shortened the weekend. Long live the service
industry.
##
On the next day I was off to the salon, this time not by taxi. By bus the
whole trip really took a long time.
I was recognized immediately. Karin greeted me, "Hi. Nice that you're
back again. But your hair still really looks good. Is it loose already?"
"No. But I have a problem. In gym class -I swim- long hair is not
allowed." Of course that wasn't true. Neither that I swam nor that there
was a rule about hair length. But I hadn't figured out any better excuse.
"And for the same reasons the long nails have to go. They aren't
allowed." At least that was a fact. After an accident in gym they were
banned.
"OK, come with me, first we'll remove the nails."
She led me to a salon chair. "The dissolving solution has to have some
time to work," she said, while both hands were placed in small dishes.
They were filled with a little clear liquid. "Hold your fingernails down
under. We'll do the thumbs later."
With that she was gone and came back five minutes later. Actually the
fingernails didn't cooperate very well in coming off. But anything that
didn't come off was filed away. After the thumbs were taken care of, I
saw my own fingernails for the first time in weeks. They didn't really
look good at all. And everything felt very unusual, as if some part of my
body had been amputated.
"Do you want nail polish?"
"I don't have much money... The last time Mrs. Weber paid."
"OK. I'll see that we make this as economical as possible. Now what about
your hair?"
"Can it be fixed so that I can take it off?"
"That's no problem at all, but you'll need help for that. The hair piece
grasps the hairnet firmly in many places, but it isn't permanently
attached. If you loosen it here in back," she fumbled around the nape of
my neck, "then you can simply pull it toward the front."
And already I saw myself with short hair. Was that unusual! I scarcely
recognized myself again.
"The net is a little loose, although it is still in good shape. Shall I
pull it tight?"
"How long will it still hold?"
"About two to three weeks until it is too loose."
"How much does that cost? I mean, is that a lot of work?"
"It is. Know what?" Now she was whispering in my ear. "Nobody is allowed
to know, but I like to earn a little on the side. If I do that at my
house, then it will cost a lot less."
"I'd like that," I whispered back. "How much?"
"Forty Euros."
Oops. I'd already figured out that it would be expensive. But still forty
Euros for work under the table? What had Mrs. Weber paid for it?
"OK. When?"
"Do you have time on the weekend?"
I nodded.
"OK, Saturday at ten?"
"Great." She gave me her address.
"Good, how much is the removal of the fingernails?"
"It's on the house."
I looked at her in astonishment and thanked her several times. She
explained to me how my hairpiece worked, then I headed out on the way
home. Except for busfare it had cost me nothing, which relieved me
immeasurably.
##
"You still have your long hair," Mom greeted me when she came home from
work.
"Yes," I grinned. "But now I know how to take it off. But I can't do it
by myself, because it works from the nape of my neck."
I explained it to her. She fumbled at my neck, and once again I was
without long hair.
"Unbelievable," she said. "I've gotten so accustomed to your hair
that..."
"I don't like it either, Mom."
"Are you sure that you want to go to school as a boy?"
Did Mom now absolutely want to make me into a girl?
"At first, yes. Although, when I see myself this way, I'm not so sure any
more."
"It's good, that for starters I've just bought you two pairs of pants."
"Mom, it just came to me, what about gym class? With my breasts I can't
wear a jersey."
"Well, it might work, but it is too dangerous. Tomorrow you have an
appointment with the endocrinologist. Ask him for an excuse that will get
you out of gym."
"That's a good idea."
In the evening, like so often in recent days snuggled up to Mom, I
couldn't stand it any longer. I got the nail polish and asked Mom to
fasten the hairpiece again.
##
This time the endocrinologist took more time with me.
"I have your hormone levels here. I must say, at first I was somewhat
confused, when I saw such a pretty girl before my eyes until I had read
the file in detail. So it's a matter of delaying your puberty so that
your gender identity can be examined. Well, that's completely normal.
Less normal, however, is your case of gynecomastia with hormonal values
which match up more to a girl."
"Is that bad?"
"From a health point of view - no. Just, if we block the male hormones,
then the female ones gain the upper hand. Your breasts will continue to
grow. And something else will take place: Your body fat will be
redistributed. To typical female positions."
"How large- eh, how obvious will that be?"
"Even in adults a prognosis is difficult. Especially so in teenagers
dealing with puberty. And most especially in the case of male teenagers
with female hormones." He paused. "How long is your puberty supposed to
be delayed?"
"I don't know. The pyschologist didn't say."
"During the next two months not very much will occur."
I interrupted him. "But my breasts have become so large very quickly."
"Large? Compared to your breast forms more like tiny. And you appear to
consider that a normal size."
I nodded unsurely.
"In the beginning the breast glands grow larger quickly. But that fades
quickly. Does it hurt?"
I nodded.
"If some fat tissue forms, then it will hurt less."
"What do you mean by fat redistribution?"
"As slender as you are, at first nothing at all. There is much too little
fat there to have visible effects. At first. If that continues more than
two or three months, then it will be more obvious that fat is being
stored on your hips and other places. And a sub-dermal fat-tissue, a thin
layer of fat will form everywhere under your skin. You can see that, too,
if your skin isn't too strongly pigmented. The skin appears paler. You've
seen that in girls already."
I nodded, unsure of myself and tried to recall Biene's skin more
precisely. Her's was lighter than mine, of that was certain.
"Therefore, for the near future not much will happen. At the most there
will be effects on your breasts. But the increase of fat tissue will at
first make them less conspicuous, which sounds paradoxical. Here is your
prescription, you'll get your excuse from the receptionist."
And so I was dismissed.
Like so often recently I was completely confused! Am I going to turn into
a girl now - or not?
Bree
- 24.05.2021
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