Gender Choice Week free porn video

Gender Choice Week Of the many things that set homo sapiens apart from the rest of animal kingdom, its ability to choose genders is one of the strangest. How it works is easy to describe: all other mammals have their sex predetermined at conception, and are born with either male or female genitals. Humans, however, are born with both male and female genitals. The male genitals are on the outside, so at a glance all children look male. (And by convention, all such children are referred to as boys). But they are born with a full female reproductive system also. If a boy's testes are removed before puberty, his penis retracts into his body and he becomes a girl. But if nothing is done before male puberty begins, he grows into an adult male. How it works is the testes are the source of male hormones and the ovaries are the source of female hormones. Before puberty, the male hormones suppress the ovaries so no female hormones are released. If the testes are removed, the ovaries become active and the body produces female hormones instead. But the onset of male puberty releases more potent hormones which kill the ovaries, which means sex change after puberty is not possible. So it's that simple: remove a boy's testes before puberty, and he will turn into a girl. The process of removing testes before puberty is refered to as "feminisiation." (While the barbaric practice of removing testes after puberty is called "castration"). Evolutionary scientists believe this feature was crucial in allowing homo sapiens to become the dominant creature on the planet. It allowed societies to quickly adapt to a population crisis, by turning a whole generation of children into young women, allowing a quick repopulation of the society. It has been speculated that no other species has this ability, because no other species has the intelligence to selectively make only some of their offspring female. So any other species would either feminise no offspring (and immediately die out), or feminise at random (which has no evolutionary advantage over the normal animal method, of choosing gender randomly at conception). And yet, from the dawn of civilisation, humankind has resisted using this trait to any advantage, other than to ensure all families are gender balanced. Every society in history has done the same thing: feminising half of all children at birth, and at no other time. The Judeo-Christian creation story is typical: God created Adam and Steve, and put them in the Garden of Eden. Because Steve was the first to eat the forbidden fruit, his testes were removed, and he became Eve. But ever since that first couple, parents made their children of alternate sex: first a boy, then a girl, then another boy, and so on. Adam and Eve set the example: their first child (Cain) remained male; their second child (Adele) was feminised at birth; and so on. Yes Eve chose to be female, but that was rare and exceptional circumstances. No other person in the Bible became a woman by choice. All other religions and societies have a similar pattern. Some dictate that the first child must be female, some have the priests alternately assigning babies male or female. But what they all have in common is that sex is assigned at birth. And all have evolved systems where the proportion of the sexes is roughly 50-50. In the post-world-war-II period, when families became smaller, people realised that it was not practical to have every family have a boy first, because it would lead to gender imbalance. So most western countries set up a government department to administer gender assignment. Most followed a system where a woman was told the gender of her first child, and then she alternated the gender of all later children. It is of course possible for a rogue person to feminise a boy before puberty, but all societies regard this as one of the worst of crimes, second only to murder. Barbarian armies would sometimes do it to the people they conquered, but it has never been practiced by civilised society. And yet, throughout history, there have been boys who have felt they were assigned the wrong gender, and chosen to be voluntarily feminised. For most of history these were isolated cases, regarded as freaks or queers. But towards the end of the 20th century, and into the 21st, these cases became more widespread, or at least more widely reported. Some boys wished to be girls - and got their wish. More disturbingly, some girls wished they had never been feminised, but had no way to change back. And so, despite the opposition from the more conservative religious groups, Australia became the first country to introduce "gender choice." The reasoning was: there has been a rise in reported cases of children and adults feeling they were given the wrong gender. Therefore the ability to choose one's gender is a basic human right. The original proposal was as follows: all boys had to make a choice of gender by the end of primary (elementary) school, the age when most children are 12 or 13. Those who were undecided would be allocated whatever gender was required to get a 50/50 gender balance. Decisions had to be made by the end of November. (Remember the Australian school year runs more or less from Feburary to November, with December and January being the summer vacation). Then the first week in December was called "Gender Choice Week," when the required feminisations would be performed. The reasoning was that, in December, all schools in Australia were on their summer vacation break. That gave approximately 8 weeks before school to complete feminisation and allow the new girls to begin to adjust. It also allowed new girls to celebrate Christmas as girls and perhaps receive some appropriate coming-of-gender gifts. The age of 13 was chosen because it was the latest age possible before large numbers reach puberty. So it allowed most children to make the most informed choice about their gender. Statistically, about 10% of boys begin puberty before the age of 13. Therefore, boys could opt to be feminised earlier. In fact, due to the risk of early puberty, boys who were sure they wanted to be girls were encouraged to undergo feminisation earlier. This also meant that Gender Choice Clinics would be less busy during Gender Choice Week. In order to allow an informed decision, feminisation was illegal before a boys's 8th birthday. Authorities encouraged feminisation at age 10 or 11 for boys who were certain they wanted to be girls. In order to appease the conservative religious community, religious groups could apply for exemptions, to allow gender assignment at birth. However, when the first year of the program began, almost no one opted for that. All mainstream religious groups said that they should allow for modern practices, just as they allow medical procedues and contraception. As the first round of boys grew up - that is, the first year after feminising of newborns was outlawed - there was a pretty consistent pattern around the country. It was found that about 40% of boys naturally settled into "girly" roles: wearing dresses, playing with dolls, and so on. Experts confidently predicted that this would rise to close to 50% by age 13. And if not, they could ensure a 50% ratio by feminising all boys who put "undecided" as they preferred gender. However, things turned out rather differently. Very few of the other 60% changed their mind and opted for feminisation. Furthermore - and this took the experts completely by surprise - less than 0.5% of boys put "undecided" as their gender. Even though all those "undecided" boys were feminised, the final outcome was that only 41.3% of children were girls in the first year. In response, an aggressive marketing and education campaign was rolled out for the second year of the program. Boys were told of the opportunities for women, and the virtues of motherhood were promoted. They were reminded of the slightly longer lifespan of women. Athletic boys were even targetted, reminding them that there is generally less competition in women's sports. Of course this conveniently omitted the fact that being female would make them physically weaker, and most women's sport gets almost no media coverage (and so almost no chance of making a living from it). I did hear that one promising swimmer opted for feminisation, perhaps because that's one of the few sports where men and women have equal opportunities. Ironically though, even though it wasn't promoted, the top two boys in my school's chess club opted to be feminised. It made sense: being male is no help in chess, and yet there are women-only events in chess with a much lower qualifying standard than for the men. And yet, even with all the promotion of feminisation, the second year produced only a slight increase: 44.1% girls across the country. In the third year of the program, the virtues of womanhood were again heavily promoted in schools. And yet the feminisation rate actually went down slightly, to 44.0%. It was then finally realised that coercive measures would need to be taken. An emergency meeting of government and experts was held in March of the 4th year. At this meeting the following rules were agreed: * Gender Choice Week would remain as the first week in December, for boys in their final year of primary school, or who are aged 13, whichever comes first. * There would no longer be an aggressive marketing campaign. Boys would have the benefits of both genders explained to them, though it would also be made clear that compulsory feminisation was a possibility. * Voluntary feminisation from age 8 onwards would continue to be offered. * Boys opting to become girls would be actively encouraged to undergo feminisation before Gender Choice Week. * All boys who choose to remain male would be given a score, based on their abilities, interests and likely career paths. * Based on those scores, some boys would be compulsorarily feminised during Gender Choice Week. * Due to the imbalance in the previous 3 years, the target would be 52% girls in the next 10 years, as a temporary measure. * Boys who reached puberty before Gender Choice Week are exempt from the process. * Any administration of drugs to artificially bring on early male puberty is outlawed. Punishments include a minimum jail term of 5 years, and a lifetime ban from practice of any medical staff involved. These rules came in during my second last year of primary (elementary) school. So the group one year above me was the first to use the ranking process, and to compulsorarily feminise ("CF") some boys. The official report said that the program that year was a success: 40% chose to be female (18% choosing it beforehand, 22% waiting until Gender Choice Week), and a further 12% (out of the 60% who wanted to be male) were compulsorarily feminised, giving the desired 52% female in that group. I could assume the same would be true for my year. In other words, if I chose to be male, I had about a 1 in 5 chance of being compulsorarily feminised. I wanted to stay male and I was nervous about this. I had seen a few feminised girls in the year level above me. But the word was that they all had chosen feminisation. If anyone I knew was feminised against they choice, no one was admitting it. I hung out a lot with my three best friends: Simon, John and Grant. Simon and Grant were very rough and tumble guys, always bike riding, kicking a ball, having a play fight, or even dressing up to pretend to be soldiers. Simon was my earliest friend and I had fallen in with Grant when Simon befriended him. I didn't really like their rougher games but I went along with them, partly because I had trouble making other friends. John was a bit more bookish, like me. He wasn't nearly as good at school, but he was a big, likeable guy. I sometimes think we became friends partly because the one thing we had in common was that Simon and Grant were friendly to us. As the school year came to an end we discussed the upcoming Gender Choice Week. As I said, there seemed to be a rule that people keep their choice a secret, so that they wouldn't be embarassed if they were forcibly feminised. But we were good friends and couldn't resist confiding. We all wanted to stay male. As we discussed it more, we decided we all had something going for us: Simon and Grant had their personalities, John had his size, and I had my school ability - because it was well known that men prospered better in scientific careers, where it looked like I was headed. Eventually, our appointment letters arrived in the mail. We all were to present ourselves at the Gender Choice Clinic during the first week in December. John's appointment was Monday, Simon's was Tuesday, Grant's was Wednesday, and mine, as luck would have it, was Friday. We also had to present ourselves for medical examination the day before, to take a blood test and determine whether puberty had begun. John posted to Facebook on Monday night: "Bit of a non-event guys. They said I've reached puberty so I automatically stay male. Good luck to the rest of you." Simon posted Tuesday night and was his typical over-the-top self: "Woo-hoo! Score of 8.3, I get my first choice. Manhood, here I come!" Come Wednesday night, and Grant was a little more restrained: "Happy to say I got my first choice, which was male. Best of luck to everyone else." He also sent me a private message, "It seemed to come down pretty well to my personality and love of rough activities. They didn't talk academics at all, though maybe because mine is so average LOL." This of course worried me. Physical activities weren't my thing at all. But I reassured myself when I looked at my school grades. My maths scores, in particular, were exceptional. Everyone knew about the problems women had in maths, right? Also, before Gender Choice Week I had calculated that the probability of all of us staying boys was 4/5 to the 4th power, which is 256 out of 625, or a bit less than half. I tried to reassure myself that I still had a 4 in 5 chance of staying male, but I couldn't shake the feeling that one of us was bound to be feminised, and the only one left was me. Even at my medical examination on Thursday I was nervous, so much so that I began crying when they sampled my blood. Not from pain, I was just overwhelmed and nervous. I hoped propensity to cry didn't count against me. Friday came around. Following the rules, I had packed a suitcase in case I had to stay for feminisation. My mother and father were both with me. We walked into the room, and were greeted by two women on the other side of the desk. "Paul Jones" the more senior woman began. "My name is Ms. Keats. I have your assessment sheet in front of me. I see you have selected that you prefer to remain male. However, I should tell you that, as in previous years, about 60% of boys have asked to remain male. So we have a ranking system." "Going through all rankings in the state, and noting that it is government policy to have 52% females this year, the cut-off score is 6.5. If your score is 6.5 or above, you stay male. If your score is 6.4 or below, you must present yourself today as a candidate for compulsory feminisation. Do you understand?" "Yes," I replied. "OK then, now for your results." "Your profile has you as highly intelligent, especially with an aptitude for maths. Your scores are above average, but not outstanding, for science. You are average size but below average athletically. Your personality is friendly, tolerant and sensitive." "Paul, I am sure you are aware that women struggle in some vocational fields, such as engineering. This has certainly counted in your favour. However, your projected career is mathematics or statistics. In these fields, women do quite well. I am sure you are aware that the Fields Medal, the highest award in mathematics, was awarded to a woman for the first time last year." "Therefore, while many boys have received 5 points for aptitude in science, the assessors believe that your aptitude in mathematics receives only 2 points." "Add that to a score of 1.5 for your phsyical traits and 1.8 for personality..." "Your final score is 5.3. I am asking you to check the feminisation program immediately." I tried to think of something to say... "So that's it? No argument? No appeal?" "Sorry" Ms. Keats said. "If your score was close, I could spend some time re-checking, even though all your scores have already been checked multiple times. But you're more than a full point below the threshold. It really is a very clear cut case." "And can I say, personally, welcome to womanhood. It is a very fulfilling life path. Even though I was feminised at birth, I never felt like I was missing anything. Society has taken great steps to eliminate sexual discrimination. I am sure you will enjoy life." My father put his hand on my shoulder. "It'll be alright. It's for the good of society. I know you'll make a beautiful and intelligent young woman. We always knew this was a possibility, and we love you no matter what." My mother hugged me. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but I was secretly hoping for this. Your younger brothers are so rough and boyish, I think you were my only hope for a daughter. I so enjoy doing things with you. And this will only make us closer. It's going to be an exciting summer, and an exciting few years ahead." I began sobbing uncontrollably. I don't know if it was sadness, or happiness about what my parents had said, but it was all too much, After a minute or two the other woman stepped up, "Paul, I am Dr. Cherie Cassidy, and I will be your doctor for the feminisation process. Mr. and Mrs. Jones, could you please sign the consent forms, then we can proceed." My parents signed - not that they had any choice - and Dr. Cassidy continued, "Please say goodbye to your parents for now. They will be able to visit you this evening." So we hugged our goodbyes - with more tears - and I followed her down the corridor. We went into a plain room with a raised bed, like a simple doctor's surgery. "OK, Paul, I should point out that feminisation is not guaranteed. As you may be aware, feminisation may not begin if puberty has begun, because male puberty kills the ovaries, which are the female organs." "So here is what will happen. I will make an incision in your scrotum, and put a temporary clamp on the tubes from your testes. This will halt the flow of male hormones to your body." "We will then monitor you for up to two weeks. In that time, we will take a blood test every 3 days, and check for secondary female characteristics every day. If secondary female characteristics develop, that means feminisation has begun, and you will then have a second operation to remove your scrotum and testes." "If secondary female characteristics do not develop, then further tests will be done. But in almost all cases, it means that male puberty has begun. In those cases - which last year were about 5% of boys who entered this clinic for feminisation - we reverse the first operation, and they remain male." I interrupted, "What do you mean by secondary female characteristics." "Two things, Paul. First, the beginning of breast development. Since puberty is earlier in girls than boys, female puberty usually begins immediately after a successful feminisation; which means breasts begin to grow. And second, your penis should begin to shrink. As you may or may not know, during feminisation your penis retracts back to become a vagina." "So that means I need to photograph and measure you first." So I undressed she took photos of my chest, and of my penis. Then she asked me to get an erection. "Isn't that kind of... unnecessary, since I won't be doing it in the future?" I asked. "Not at all. First, of course, we need to photograph and measure you erect so that we can monitor any change. But in any case, we women still get erections... of sorts. Your penis will modify into all the outer parts of the vagina, including the labia and clitoris. And when I get aroused, my clitoris and labia swell up. It's not as pronounced as a male erection, but it's the same process. So you will still get erections - just different sorts of erections." So I dutifully did what I had to do, and she photographed it without comment. "Now, the operation is usually undertaken under a local anaesthetic. That means you will be awake for the operation, but your scrotum will be numb so you can't feel any pain. Is that acceptable to you?" I figured I might as well be awake for what happened, so I said yes. A nurse came in to assist, and I lay there while the procedure was done. Apart from the anaesthetic injection I felt no pain, as promised. Even as the anaesthetic wore off and I got feeling back in my scrotum, the pain was pretty mild. My parents came in and talked to me while I sat in the recovery ward for the rest of the evening. We made small talk and watched TV. They left my brothers at home with a sitter, for which I was thankful. I checked Facebook. I saw John had asked how things went. But I couldn't bring myself to reply. Eventually my parents went home, while I stayed. It was a requirement that I stay at the Gender Choice Clinic for the entire time - so I could be measured every day, and so that I got all the health care I needed. So I was alone with my thoughts. And I thought, here I am, just waiting. Waiting to see if little breasts start to grow. Waiting to see if my pee-pee shrinks away. Waiting to see who I would be for the rest of my life. The first two mornings, there was absolutely no change that I could see. If the medical staff were seeing any change, they weren't telling me. The days were pretty boring. We could do what we wanted, so long as we stayed in the clinic. Female clothing and female adjustment classes were freely available, but there was no compulsion, and I certainly wasn't interested in them. I was free to talk to other patients, but in my ward there was no one I knew. I gave up Facebook entirely, because it was full of classmates boasting about how they got to stay male. So I was happier just retreating to my room and watching TV. On the third morning, I began to get hope. My penis, if anything, seemed slightly bigger. Was it getting a bit wider? It was so hard to tell. On the fourth morning, I was sure it was a little wider, and allowed myself to get my hopes up. On the fifth morning I was a little confused. My penis still had its wider look, but there were also tiny, almost inperceptible little bumps on my chest. They were extremely sensitive to touch. What was going on? Were both male and female hormones in my body? The nurses continued to simply monitor me without comment. On the sixth morning, my confusion turned to despair. There were, it was hard to deny, tiny lumps on my chest. Down below, I finally realised what was happening. My penis was wider, but it was also shorter. I had been ignoring the signs for a couple of mornings, but now it was unmistakable. It was down to about two thirds of its original length, at best. And then, when I had my morning pee, my fears got worse. I had almost no control of my stream, and pee went all over the floor. I tried examining the end of my penis and I could see why I couldn't control my stream: the hole had grown. It was 2 or 3 times as wide as it had formerly been. It looked like I could almost push a finger in. Needless to say, I felt even less sociable that day. The nurses who took a blood test and measured me again said nothing, but I felt it was inevitable that I was becoming a girl. Nevertheless, I still said nothing about the changes to my parents. I woke up on day 7. I just lay there for a moment, not sure what to touch first: my chest or my penis. Eventually I decided to touch my chest first. Ouch! The lumps were even more sensitive. And now they were really too large for a boy - they were getting close to the size of grapes. There was no denying what was happening. After thinking for a few moments more, I decided I would go to the bathroom before feeling down below, since I was busting to pee anyway. I looked at the toilet. After yesterday's peeing debacle, I decided it would be better to prepare to sit down. So I put the seat down, stood with my back to the toilet, and lowered my pants. The change was even more dramatic. My penis was wider and noticably shorter. The larger opening at the tip was more visible. I sat down, and pushed it downwards and was glad I did. It seemed to be spraying everywhere. Once I was done and wiped, I had a feel. I could, with a little pain, push my index finger slightly inside the hole. I then tried stroking my penis, figuring it could be one of the last male erections of my life. It sort of stuck outwards instead of up. But once it was erect, the tip was actually softer and a little moist, and it was possible to push my finger in a short way. There was no denying it: I was turning into a girl. Again when I met the nurse, and stripped down to be measured and photographed, she said nothing. So I spoke up, "Isn't it obvious what's happening now?" She sighed. I have a feeling she wasn't meant to tell me the outcome - that it had to be the doctor who told me - but it was impossible to deny. "Wait here Paul. I'll get Dr. Cassidy. You can put this gown on to stay warm." 5 minutes later, the nurse returned with Dr. Cassidy. "Hi Paul. May I... may I have a look at you?" I removed the gown and stood in front of her, naked, while she examined me. "Paul, I think you've guessed what's happening. But legally I am required to tell you formally:" "Your feminisation procedure has been a success. Yesterday's blood test reveals your body is producing a normal level of female hormones. And I can see that your female hormones are working properly, and you are turning into a girl. All I need to do now is the surgery to remove your scrotum and testes. What you have now is a pagina, a penis which is transforming into a vagina. So that your scrotum doesn't get in the way of your pagina's transformation, my recommendation is that I remove your scrotum and testes today." "I'll notify your parents and book you in at 11.00. Don't worry - we have been keeping them updated on your changes, so they will be expecting it. In fact when I spoke to them yesterday I told them that surgery today was a possibility. I must ask that you don't eat any solids between now and 11.00." My mother arrived at about 9.30. (I guess, now it was settled, it wasn't important enough for my dad to miss another day's work). After the initial hugs and small talk, she said: "So Paul. Today, you will legally become a girl. So we need to choose a name. I've always liked your name, so I'm hoping you'll be happy to change it to Paula or Pauline." I'd already thought about this, "Paula, for sure. At least it's only changing one letter." This surgery was more major so I would be going under general anaesthetic. My mother was with me right until I was wheeled into theatre. They put a needle in me... ... and some time later, I woke up. I was lying down, in a room. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room. That's actually good, I thought. I would like this moment alone. A little wriggling confirmed that my arms were under the sheets. So I reached across to touch where my scrotum had been: Just a bandage. Other than that, clearly no room for balls or scrotum. I felt up a bit, and my penis - or should I say now, pagina - felt different again. It felt shorter, and wider. The change would soon be complete. The nurse came in, "Hello Paula. How are you feeling?" "OK I guess." "Good. Your surgery was a complete success. The bandage will stay on for another day." It surprised me that the bandage would only stay on for a day. But our bodies are designed to allow the scrotum to be removed without any harm, on a prepubescent boy. Once the bandage was removed, my pagina quickly fell into place in a couple of days. It got shorter and wider, and the opening continued to get wider. Peeing standing up, which had already been difficult, was now impossible. So I sat. About 3 days after the bandage was removed - day 11 altogether - it looked exactly like a vagina, as far as I could tell. The bandage was removed on day 8. On day 9, I found I didn't even need to push my pagina down to pee. It just pointed in the right direction and I could sit and pee, no hands. Instead I used both hands to hold my head and sob, as I sat there. My mother came in every day. Once the bandage was off and I was up and about, she started bring in girl clothes. The first day I tried on panties - this would have been day 9 - my pagina made a bulge. Without my scrotum the bulge was small, but large enough that I still looked a bit like a boy in panties, (if you could ignore my little boobs). By day 10, though, it looked more like a protruding camel toe. By day 11, there was no doubt. My panties were smooth against my crotch, and my pagina was in place. It was certainly no penis, and it was no longer even a pagina. I was Paula, I was a girl, and what I had down there was a vagina. Dr. Cassidy was happy with my progress and, a couple of days later, I was ready to go home. I had not expected the changes to happen in the way they had, but apparently my progress was completely normal. And right on schedule, I would be going home 2 weeks after I checked in, in time for Christmas. Once I got home, all I wanted to do was stay in the house - I was petrified to go anywhere. But my mother insisted that I had to get a hair cut before Christmas. "There's no point you looking like a boy in the Christmas photos" she explained. So she took me to the mall and my short hair was styled into a pixie cut. I hated to admit it, but it looked cute. Of course, for Christmas, I was inundated with girly things. Dresses, jewellery, swimsuits, makeup, and so on. What would I have given for just one boyish video game. No, I thought, what would I give to have my penis back! But I didn't say a thing. I smiled and modelled all my gifts for my family. My little brothers was surprisingly good about it. There was no teasing, I was just Paula, their sister. A couple of days after Christmas, it was time for the inevitable. Time to face Grant, Simon and John. I'm not sure when they heard the news. Perhaps they got the hint when there was no Facebook update on that first Friday. Perhaps they eventually called my home. But they knew. Each of them had sent me a message on Facebook, basically saying they hoped it went well and they hoped we could still be friends. I was the only one in our group to have a pool. So I invited them all around. I had no idea what to expect. Despite their positive comments on Facebook, I felt like a failure. They had got their choice of gender, and I had not. If they stayed my friends, would it just be out of pity? On the morning, I had to decide what to wear. I wasn't comfortable enough to wear a dress, and I wanted to show them I was still the same Paul(a). So I opted for a blouse and loose shorts. Underneath, I wore a blue bikini. Blue had always been my favourite colour, and I saw no need to change that now. When the guys arrived, their first reaction, "Have you really changed?" It hadn't occured to me, but with small boobs and a loose blouse, and my short hair, it wasn't obvious I was different at all. But I liked that, and we made small talk for a while, and talked about our Christmases. Eventually we decided it was time for a swim. As each of them took off their tops, I looked at their board shorts jealously. Each one had that little bulge there, something I no longer had. When I took my blouse and shorts off, I felt like I was on display. There were obviously boobs, albeit small ones, being covered by my bikini top. But even more stark was my bikini bottoms. They hugged my crotch and to me they seemed to scream "NO PENIS ANYMORE!." I was acutely aware that me friends had something which I did not. And then, I became aware that they were looking at me. The guys were so nice about it, their comments were all positive: "Yep, you've changed alright!"; "Wow, you're a hottie!"; "That bikini looks good on you!." "Look," I said, "I want you to treat me as normal in the pool. The usual fun. No going soft on me. Except... don't touch me here" I pointed at the little half golf balls on my chest, "They're really, really sensitive. I think it's because they're still growing." And that was it. We jumped in the pool and horsed around like the old days. I was thankful that I was still hollering like a boy instead of the stereotypical "girly screams." Fortunately my boobs, if you could call them that, were small enough that there was no danger of them popping out, so it was no problem swimming hard and being a bit rough. For the first time since my feminisation, I was enjoying myself. And as the afternoon wore on, I realised that, in some ways, I was enjoying it more than the old days. The guys were treating me a bit different, a bit special. And then it hit me. I was also enjoying it because... I fancied them! They were good friends, but they were also cute. Even though they we were all only 13, they looked pretty nice with their tops off. I found myself glancing at their packages from time to time, And then I realised it wasn't envy anymore. It was... admiration. I was no longer wishing I was like them. I was, just for a moment, feeling happy I was different, and admiring their male features. Later, when we'd finished our games and we were just chilling, still in just our bathing suits, I caught a glimpse of John's package sticking out a bit. He was getting the beginnings of a hard-on! He turned away slightly to adjust himself. I pretended not to notice. But I found myself getting excited. Excited that the hard-on was because of me. After the guys left, I went up to my room, humming to myself. I thought back to when they were all standing drying off, and how hot they looked. I thought of that moment when I spotted John's semi boner, and I found I got a bit of a tingling downstairs myself. I instinctively moved a hand to adjust myself. But then I realised, wait, there's no need to adjust! Unlike the guys, my body isn't going to give me away when I got a bit excited. That's another advantage of being a girl, I thought. Wait, what did I just think? ANOTHER advantage? And that's when I realised that, from the moment the guys saw me in my bikini, not once had I wished I wasn't a girl. I had feared that my flat crotch was my shame, my weakness. But as soon as the guys treated me well, I had forgotten my fears. In fact I had enjoyed being a girl in the company of three hot boys. I realised in that moment that it wasn't so much that I hadn't wanted to be a girl. It was that I had feared the shame of losing my penis. And now I knew there was no shame in that. In fact there was nothing wrong with me at all, and I had discovered that being a girl could be fun. I was still nervous about the future. But now, I knew it would be ok.