The Itch free porn video

I was about 14 when it first started. Mum caught me rubbing my chest as I sat doing my homework. It wasn't really much at all, just a slight itch around the front of my chest that wouldn't go away. Just a slight irritation that annoyed my subconscious. I had no idea how long it had been there. Perhaps for ever, I had no recollection of it actually starting. "Have you got a problem, Am? You seem to have been doing that all evening." "No, not really, Mum. Just a tiny itch. Perhaps I've got a hair or two stuck in my vest." "OK, but if it doesn't go away by tomorrow after your shower, let me know and we'll keep an eye on it." Nothing more was said and I later went to bed, still rubbing a bit without noticing I was still doing it in my pyjamas as well. I showered in the morning, completely forgetting about last night's agreement and, as Mum apparently forgot as well, I breakfasted and went off to school for my day's education without realising. It only occurred to me in the late afternoon that I had been admonished several times in class during the day for "fiddling" or general inattention and that it was because I still had the itch! This was beginning to worry me a little and I decided that I had better mention it when I got home. Have I forgotten something here? Home? Where is it? Oh! Of course, I should introduce myself. My name is Ambrose Turner and I live in Maldon in Essex and I go to school in the town. My parents are John and Ann Turner and no, they haven't been killed in a car crash or got divorced. Dad owns in a bookshop and isn't having an affair with another woman, as far as I know, nor has he disappeared with his secretary (he hasn't got one!) and Mum is just your average housewife. Oh! And a very nice Mum as well! I do reasonably well at school where I have friends and I am what you might call a member of the 'hidden majority' who come to no-one's notice in particular. I'm an only child so there's no bullying big brothers or snotty sisters inside the family either! Boring, isn't it! All the old clich?s falling by the wayside with a noise like silent thunder and the only unusual thing about me is - I have this itch! There must be a story here somewhere or I'm just wasting your time here! Anyway, I got home from school and found Mum in the kitchen getting tea ready for her returning family. "I've still got this itch, Mum and it's driving me crazy! It doesn't hurt, it's just there all the time and won't go away." Mum didn't say a word, just walked out of the kitchen and came back a few moments later holding a large jar of white cream. "Rub some of this gently over the itch and see if that improves matters a bit." I took the jar into the bathroom and, after stripping off, applied some to my by now slightly pink chest. So much rubbing had had some effect after all. The cream was smooth and felt cold and seemed to relieve the problem somewhat. I closed the jar, put my vest and shirt back on and returned to the kitchen, handing the jar back to her. "Did it do any good?" "Yes, it feels a little better." "Keep it for now, I've got some more. Use it as you need to, it won't hurt you, it's only cold cream." I didn't think much more about it over the next few weeks. I kept using the cream and the itch was almost gone, although just now and again it let me know it was there. My chest did start to feel a little swollen but I put this down to all the moisture in the cream and the time I spent rubbing it in. It must have been all of two months later that Mum came into my room with a fresh shirt and saw me topless for the first time in a long time. "Goodness, Am! Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" I have to admit that the only time I really did that was to comb my hair in the mornings before I went down to breakfast. Typical teenager! Looking good wasn't high on my list of things to do! As long as I wasn't the butt of any jokes, I considered myself 'teenage respectable'! "Go and have a look now." She followed me into the bathroom and stood behind me as I took a look. My ghast was somewhat flabbered! My chest was sagging! I had been so busy rubbing the cream in and assuming the swelling was due to all this work that I hadn't noticed how it was swelling. There wasn't really anything to argue about - I had tits! Little conical tits! Very small ones, I have to admit, but they were very definitely there. "I think I know what the problem is, but it's not for me to decide. I'll book a visit to the doctor's and we can let him have a look." Needless to say, the NHS worked at its usual snail's pace. I could have a consultation in two weeks if it was an emergency (Ha! I'd be dead by then!) or three weeks otherwise. By the time we had worked out who was available and when, it was nearly a month later before I was marched into the surgery by Mum. It would have been bad enough showing the regular doctor my sprouting chest, but no! It was a locum! A female locum at that! "Now what seems to be the problem?" I was somewhat flustered but Mum came to my rescue and gave the details. "... so I suspect it might be the usual teenage problem but I thought it best for us to come and see you to be certain." I was made to go behind a screen and strip to the waist and sit on the cold leather couch. Not good! Sitting there with my chest hanging out while Mum and the doctor discussed me on the other side of the screen. After what seemed to be several days, well, at least two or three minutes, the doctor came round the screen, smiled at me and asked to look at my chest. She seemed to spend much more time handling my new droopy bits than looking at them but who was I to complain? "OK Ambrose, thank you. You can get dressed now and join me and your mother." "Yes. All the classic signs. Ambrose, there is no easy way to break this to you. You have gynecomastia." I must have looked very confused as she followed this up with an explanation. "Almost certainly we will find that you have a hormone imbalance when we do a blood test. That will take a few weeks to come through and then we can see about righting whatever the lab wizards find to be wrong." "Will he continue growing in the meantime?" "Well, There are some genetic influences. If the hormone levels are very high, he could grow to a similar size to you, unchecked; and this will depend on how easy it is to bring his hormones under better control. Right now, I can't give you a specific answer to that one." "I take it there's nothing I can do to reduce it? Diet or exercise or anything?" "Not that I know of. I'll know more when the blood test comes through and we can take that now, if you like." Mum nodded. "I'll arrange for the nurse to take one before you leave today. If this does continue then you should consider some support. It really isn't good to do anything else until the growth stops. Surgery is the only method of removal and removing them too soon will only result in more growth afterwards." I was left to the tender mercies of the nurse who took a few gallons of blood before taping over the well she had drilled and telling me not to remove the tape for at least a year. Or was it an hour? Would I leak to death if I did, I wondered! The drive home was in silence. We got indoors and Mum put the kettle on for a cuppa. I couldn't keep it in any longer! "What did she mean by support, Mum? Have I got to see a trickcyclist or something?" A quick smile flashed over he face. "Er.. Not that kind of support, dear. If you get much bigger at all, you'll need a bra, I'm afraid. In fact, from what I've seen today I think we should be thinking about getting you one now." "Mum! Bras are for girls! I'm a BOY!" "Look me in the eye, Ambrose, and answer me a simple question. Why do women wear bras?" "That's easy! It's because they have tits." "Breasts please, dear. Not tits if you don't mind. And what do their bras do for their breasts?" "They hold them up so they look nice." "I agree it does make them look nice but it's more than that. It's to stop them sagging and the skin stretching. I think you are big enough now that if you run, they will really bounce, which won't be good for them and as well as that, you'll find that they can hurt if they bounce too much." "You really mean I've gotta wear a bra?" "Yes dear. Not much more than a training bra or a double A at the moment but you may need more if you continue to grow. You remember what the doctor said about a genetic aspect? Look at me and the size of my bust. I don't mind you looking hard now because we both have the same thing. A bust! If you follow me genetically, you can see what you could have attached to your chest before this is all over.." I did something I had never really dared to do properly before, well, not since I was sucking on it anyway! I took a real look at Mum's chest. There was an awful lot of tit, sorry, I mean breast, there. Was I really going to be carrying that load around as well? She bounced up and down a little and her whole bust gyrated inside her jumper even when I knew perfectly well that was wearing a bra. Then something else occurred to me. "Mum! You're not taking me to a shop to get me a bra!" "No need dear. Your Aunt Beth works in lingerie store, doesn't she? I'll get her to sort everything out for you." "But then she'll know!" "Yes. But the way you are growing, people will know anyway." "But they'll know I'm wearing a bra!" "Because they'll know you have breasts and breasts need bras, don't they? We've already talked about that." Something else occurred to me. Dad was going to freak out when he found out what was happening. I knew Mum had told him the basics but when he found out I was going to have to wear a bra and might possibly grow as big as Mum, he was going to blow his top! Then something else occurred to me. School! I was going to die very shortly after I arrived there for the first day with a bra on The bullies would beat me up and the girls would be laughing at me, non- stop. I mentioned this to Mum and she pointed out that the Summer holidays were almost here and she wouldn't make me wear one to school before that although I would be wearing one in the evenings and all weekends. She would also make alternative arrangements, whatever that meant, for after the end of the holidays. A week later and we had a visit from my aunt. She arrived loaded down with several large packages and I wondered if I was going to be wearing a bra or some huge corset device! "So, Ambrose! You have the boy's curse do you? You'd be surprised just how many boys get it. I don't suppose it will be much consolation to you to know you aren't the first boy I've had to measure up for his bras. I suggest we just get on with it so you can wear one for a while before I leave and see how comfortable they can be fitted properly." Before I really knew what was happening, I was up in my room, my shirt and vest were off and I was being assaulted with a cold tape measure. This was followed shortly by the crackle of cellophane and the opening of cardbox and I was being asked, no - ordered - to put my arms through various strappy loops and having bands of material clipped tightly round my chest. Shortly afterwards I was fully harnessed and my tits , whoops, breasts were safely imprisoned in their plain white cotton containers and strapped to my chest. Everything was positioned in a way that prevented movement and I wondered if my breathing was going to be affected. I asked and wished I hadn't! "Girls don't usually move as actively as boys so the slight restriction of a bra doesn't really affect them, Am." "But I'm a boy, not a girl." "You're a boy with breasts, so you are going to have to behave more like a girl I'm afraid and, as they grow this will mean bigger restrictions and you are going to have to get used to it.." Oh, Gawd! Get used to being more girly! "Sis says the doctor thinks you could even grow as big as her. I've brought along one with her cup size and your chest size. Try it on and see what you think.." I was released from prison for a moment before she fitted this enormous device to me. The band was tighter and wider than before and two gigantic cups stuck out at the front. "I've got some prosthetics for your cups." She placed two huge pink jelly-like blobs into the cups where they settled into breast shapes. God! They were so heavy and seemed to have a life of their own, swaying and wobbling in front of me. "Just so that you get an idea of what could be ahead for you, we've decided that you'll keep this bra on for the rest of the day until you go to bed." It didn't take very long for me to discover that this massive encumbrance was certainly going to stop me in my tracks. Any quick movement caused it to sway and wobble and when I moved my arms, there was this obstruction to overcome! Both Mum and Beth were gently smiling at my antics but they did nothing to help me. "I think he should keep it on overnight." "Perhaps not, Beth. I suspect he would get no sleep at all!" I think my sigh of relief could have been heard all over town! "Just so you know, Am. You are wearing a C cup bra at the moment but going up the alphabet one at a time, the largest cup size we usually stock is an L. You are wearing an average size bra at the moment, believe it or not, and you are finding it a handful, if you'll pardon the expression, so think what a really big girl would have to put up with 24/7!" I was busy wondering what a 'really big girl' would look like rather than what she might have to put up with and would I actually see her behind her chest! I then began to realise that I might also disappear behind a big chest and I began to feel rather faint. Then what I might have to put up with kicked in and I had to sit down. "How fast is all this going to happen?" It came out as a rather querulous squeak but apparently clear enough to be understood. "At the moment we have no idea how big you'll grow or how fast it will happen. I have to say you haven't taken very long to grow as much as you have which suggests you have a big hormone imbalance but until that blood test come back. it's pure guesswork." "Anyway, Am. Put your vest and shirt back on and come down for lunch." Problem number one was getting my vest over my new chest. It was a close fit anyway and now it was a tight one. My shirt wasn't much better and I had gaps between the buttons where it covered my bust. (My bust? Well yes, I suppose it was) and when I tucked it into the waistband of my trousers, I really did look like some of the better endowed girls at school! I went downstairs for lunch and walked in through the kitchen door. Mum and Beth were sitting there with full plates in front of them with mine sitting in front of an empty chair opposite them. "Well, Beth. I can see an immediate problem." "So can I. Vests and blouses will certainly be needed. I can provide the vests but you'll have to go to M & S for the blouses." Blouses! Blouses are things girls and er, women wear and I'm a boy. Why would I need to wear a blouse? I asked the question and again, wished I hadn't. "It's quite simple, Am. Blouses are made differently to shirts. They have things called darts at the sides which relieve the pressure around your bust and stop you getting nasty gaps between the buttons; like the ones you have right now. Look at the sides of my blouse. Can you see the horizontal seam there. Go on, you can look!" I steeled myself and looked closely at the side of her blouse level with her bust (Oh Gawd! Bigger even than Mum's) and sure enough there was a seam which wasn't there on my shirts. I thought I could sort of understand how that made a difference. "Now, can you see the difference between the buttons on my blouse and your shirt?" Her blouse was a bit 'see-through' and I found myself looking at an above-average sized bust inside a frilly bra covered by her blouse. There were no gaps between the buttons, even though her blouse fitted quite closely I sat there, thinking hard. Was I going to look like Mum and Beth? Big tits, Soree! breasts sitting in bras under blouses or pokey-out jumpers all day, every day? "Eat your lunch, Am. You're not on a diet - yet!" This last remark really made me quail. I do enjoy my food and the thought that she might actually mean a diet was in the offing... I ate. Slowly. My mind was in a turmoil. I had the rest of the day to put up with this huge bust, however temporary, and it had also occurred to me that Dad was going to see it as soon as he got home. It was at this point that I fully expected the excrement to hit the fan at supersonic speed. I'd be lucky if the roof didn't fall in on me! The time for his arrival home came and I didn't know where to hide or even if it was worth trying. You know the thing about a really close family? No excrement, no fan and the roof stayed firmly in place! "Wotcha, Am! Your Mum has told me all about your problems and what you are going to have to put up with probably for some time. I know what you are putting up with today and you needn't worry about me seeing it. OK? We'll both help you in any way we can so don't worry any more than you have to." I could have cried. Who am I kidding? I cried my eyes out until I reckon I had nothing left to cry with. Who has a family like mine? If you do, you are so lucky! After a few days, or was it about half an hour, I managed to dry my eyes and sit up straight which resulted in my bust standing out. Not a word was said out of place and tea and the evening carried on much as usual. "Do you know when you are going to get the blood test results." "The doc says a week or two, but it will depend on how busy the lab wizards were." In the end, it was nearly three weeks before we got the call to go back to the surgery. By that time, the Summer holidays had started and I was fully kitted out with my AA cup bra (already!) girl's vest with small cups and a small, girl's blouse. Where do I hide? "I'm sorry it's taken so long but I asked the lab to repeat the tests as I didn't believe the results the first time round." An icy chill ran down my spine as I took in what she said. Why wouldn't she believe them? What was wrong with me? Lots of questions chased the extremely limited number of working brain cells around my skull. It was obvious that everyone in the room could see it! "The results are going to come as a big shock, but I'm afraid there is no easy way to soften the blow so, brace yourself and try not to freak out with what I have to tell you." I sat closer to Mum and gritted my teeth! "The results were so unexpected that my first query was if they had sent me the right set of results? They double checked and they had. Next, were they quite sure that the tests had all worked properly? Again the answer was an annoyed 'Yes'. There were no mistakes at all and they were perfectly satisfied that the results were all in order and fitted the profile of a late teenager very closely even if the overall hormone levels were well into the top quartile...." She paused for a moment and looked at me very closely. "... for a girl. Estrogen, progesterone, a tiny amount of testosterone, which is usually found in a girl's hormone mix but the slugs, snails and puppy dog's tails usually found in a boy's system are missing completely. Your hormones say you are a girl; through and through!" At this point I disobeyed her instructions completely and freaked out. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, I squeaked and squealed somewhat before the world turned grey and then black... I gradually returned to the cruel world of reality realising that I was lying on that cold couch leather under a blanket. (a bit pointless, I thought inconsequentially) I could hear a conversation going on on the other side of the screen. "...so I think we need to have a full CAT scan carried out immediately to see what we really have there before we continue. I certainly won't be trying to stop anything at the moment for obvious reasons. I'm glad Am is already wearing support. The current growth is very rapid and I have a feeling that it's going to be the norm for the rest of his life." "How long before we can get a scan done?" "The problem is that although it is rather a major item, it doesn't really count as any sort of emergency. Am is in no immediate danger as far as I can see. Development will continue in line with the hormonal levels and I would expect to see other secondary effects starting very soon.." Huh! What 'secondary effects? What else is going to happen to me? Aren't tits on a boy enough? Oh dear! I really must remember to call them breasts! The question was asked for me. "Widening of the hips, increasing fat deposits around the thighs and backside, a softening of the features and the skin generally, faster hair growth. The first thing you will probably notice is increasing difficulty in getting trousers to fit. They'll be too tight round the butt and hips and loose round the waist. It'll be the teen girl's department for everything shortly, I suspect.." "Are you saying we should dress him as a girl?" "Not at all! There are plenty of androgynous clothes available on the market these days and you will still be able to dress Am as a boy but using girl's fittings." "But probably not for ever?" "There will almost certainly come a stage where that becomes impossible and Am will be seen as a Tomboy at least - if not as a girl in any case." "So you don't think it likely that he will get cured?" "He's not ill, Mrs Turner! Quite fit, in fact. He might not have the expected hormone mix but the mix he has is properly balanced for a growing girl. I can't be sure but it's the reason why we need the scan. Then we'll be able to talk more specifically about the future." "But he has the right er... furniture down below." "That's the next thing on my list. I'm going to have to have a close look at his furniture and see what exactly he has there. May I have your permission to do so?" "I suppose it is necessary. Go ahead." "Hello Am! Awake again, I see. I'm afraid I need to examine you in a bit more detail. I do apologise and I'm very sorry but I promise I shall be as gentle as possible and I won't hurt you whatever I do." I was shaking from all that I heard, but I had no reason to disbelieve her. I nodded weakly and closed my eyes as she gently drew my trousers and underpants down to my knees. "I have warmed my hands, Am so I won't give you a shock!" That made me smile a little, but not much! She manipulated everything around and squeezed gently, but not enough to hurt and after a couple of minutes or so she moved away. "Thank you Am, you were very patient. If you would like to dress and join your mother and me at the desk." A few moments later I was back at the desk, knowing I looked very pale but determined to face up to things. "Things are perhaps a little more definite than I first thought. I'm not out embarrass you Am. but I do need to ask you some rather personal questions. Please remember that I am a doctor and I'm only here to help you. OK?" I was pretty numb by this stage so I just nodded my approval, hoping I could live through it all. "When I examined you a few moments ago, how did you feel? Excited? Apprehensive? How did you feel physically? Please try and be honest with me, however difficult it may seem. Take your time." I thought about it long and hard. I suppose I was apprehensive about her handling me, but, as she had promised, she hadn't hurt me. How did I feel? Well, I could feel her touching me but that was all. I told her all this as best as I could. "Thank you, Am. That was very brave." Why? "You see, I stroked an extremely sensitive area which should have had a boy climbing the wall, but you didn't even notice. I did it very carefully but I gradually squeezed your sack in a way that should have made you squirm but again, no reaction." Mum was squirming in any case! "What does all this mean, Doctor?" "I strongly suspect that what you thought was normal er, what word did you use? Oh, Yes. furniture is, in fact, just somewhat extensive fatty tissue and has nothing to do with sex at all. All this adds to the conclusion that Am is really a girl. We really do need a scan to see what is going on in detail and I will refer Am to a consultant for more investigations." We left with a promise that she would try to push things on as fast as she could. I sat in the car in a daze. She had told me that in all likelihood I was really a girl and not a boy and that I was probably going to be wearing bras for life! The appointment with the consultant came through in just two weeks. Hypersonic speed for the NHS! Mum and I had to be there for a consultation with a Mr Perkins which would be followed shortly afterwards by a full CAT scan. There wasn't really anything to report from the meeting which seemed to be mainly a repeat of what happened at the Doctor's. The scan! Imagine being loaded onto a large tray and being told to lie still while it was then fed into the mouth of a giant Polo mint which than started to roar at you while the operator stood miles away behind a heavy screen and shouted at you to do this and that. Joy! It was a real anticlimax to then be told to go home and another appointment would come when the consultant had finally digested its contents. Another three weeks and the Doctor was right. My trousers were beginning to feel decidedly close to me. My bum and hips were getting bigger and it finally meant Mum had to go to the teen girls section to get me some that actually fitted my changing shape. The second appointment finally came and we went to meet my fate! I already felt I had met it. I was dressed in my now well filled A cup bra with a girl's vest and blouse, girl's trousers covering my expanding bum and my hair nearly down to my shoulders as Mum had forbidden it being cut 'just in case'. I could always have it cut if it all turned out to be a false alarm. Fat chance, I thought! We were sat down opposite his Lordship with his attendant nurse alongside him. "Mrs Turner, Ambrose. I've had a chance to look at your scans in detail and they are... fascinating!" I could feel that cold shiver down my back again. When a consultant says that, it means he has never seen that particular situation before! "So! Let's look at what we have. First of all, your GP was right. What you thought were your male genitals are nothing more than some fatty external deposits serving absolutely no purpose whatsoever other than allowing you to pee standing up. You have no prostate gland either so I'm very afraid you don't qualify as a male. Something I'm sure you are realizing already." Now what would give him that idea? "It's easy to see that you are starting to grow external female features, your breasts and your obviously growing hips and bum but the scan shows some rather different structures internally. Well, I say shows but in some cases it shows an absence. There are no signs of a vaginal passage, a uterus, womb or Fallopian tubes. Incredibly however, you have two extremely healthy looking ovaries which are either pumping out or causing to be pumped out a really high level of female hormones. I can't really tell if it is one or the other or both that are doing the job and if I were to remove one I can't be sure that I won't severely disturb the balance of hormones so I think they will both have to stay." "So Am isn't a boy then and has no chance of becoming one either?" "Everything about Am is totally female and there is no doubt in my mind that she is going to grow up to be an extremely feminine woman. She will not be able to have children by a normal pregnancy but on the other hand, she will be extremely fortunate in that I cannot see any way in which she can have a period!" I had my thoughts about what he meant by being an extremely feminine woman. Google can be a very good educator and I had done an awful lot of reading in the intervening weeks. It looked rather as if I might end up with a figure best described as voluptuous! With my height, I could end up as a huge bimbo, perish the thought! "All I can really recommend at the moment is a waiting game. I can see that Ambrose is already dressing in a very ambiguous fashion and I very much believe it will only be a short time before pretending to be anything other than a girl will be quite impossible. Much as it may embarrass and annoy you, Ambrose, I would suggest that you need to start looking at yourself as a girl and dealing with the obvious consequences. I'll have some names of helpful people and organisations sent on to you very shortly and I hope you will use some of them. In the meantime my secretary will make a series of appointments to see either me or one of my team so that we can keep a close eye on your progress." "Thank you, Doctor." "Oh! And one other thing. The sooner you start dressing the part and choosing a feminine name, at least at home to start with, the easier it will be in the longer run." The journey home can best be described as fraught! Mum kept looking at me sideways and I kept closing my eyes and trying not to think about anything except well, nothing at all, really. I was not only lost for words, I was lost for thoughts even. When we arrived home, Mum gave me a strong tranquillizer tablet the nurse had given her and packed me off to bed where I fell into a dreamless (thank goodness) sleep. It was the next morning when I surfaced again, weirdly still rather out of it and only thinking very slowly. "Get dressed Am and come down for some breakfast." Mum must have been expecting it as she didn't call me again for the half an hour it took me to get dressed. Co-ordinating my hands and arms to get my bra done up seemed impossibly difficult. Even getting my shoes on the correct feet seemed to be a major exercise but finally I managed some semblance of being dressed and I then had another big problem of negotiating the stairs and remembering where the kitchen was! "What would you like for breakfast?" might have just as well been spoken in Dutch or Mandarin! After an interval, Mum decided that perhaps the best course of action was to place a pre-prepared bowl of cereal in front of me, place the spoon in my hand and say the word, "Eat!" Apparently I did, because she then placed a half-filled cup of tea in my hand and said, "Drink." I gradually returned to full consciousness over the next few hours and, by lunchtime, I was beginning to make sense of what the consultant had told me yesterday. I apparently didn't need to be a bit girly in order to accommodate a small pair of boobs. I am a girl and accommodation will come naturally. All sorts of thoughts started trundling through my woozy brain. Would I have to have a boyfriend? Yuck! No thank you very much! I was going to have a girl's name. I wouldn't be Ambrose any more. Would I have to wear girl's skirts and dresses and things? By the evening I was getting back to something like normality (Really?) and Dad said it would be a good idea if we had a family conference the following evening as there were a lot of things that had to be sorted out and as all three of us were involved, it would only be right if all of us were contributing. I could see the way things were going the next morning when the letterbox clattered with the usual mix of bills, circulars, the odd letter and... the latest edition of what was obviously a teen girl's weekly magazine. I shuddered when Mum put it at my place at the breakfast table, smiled at me and turned away. It was obvious to me that this was meant to be learning material. The latest make-up tips, teen love stories, articles on girl's problems like what kind of frillies should she wear on a first date and was it hygienic to French kiss a boy you didn't know and what should I do about a boyfriend who wears satin open crotch panties full time? The look on my face half an hour later gave her the message. "Well, I would pay close attention to the make-up tips. I'll buy you some shortly and you can start to practice doing it. You will need to know how to do it. The other thing I would pay some attention to is feminine hygiene as you will be using the ladies loo if nothing else." Better than nothing, I suppose! "And I don't care what frillies you wear on a date. You can't get pregnant so you might as well give him some sort of a treat!" "Mum! Whatever has happened to me, you should know that I really don't fancy a boy, any boy, one bit! The very thought of it makes me feel physically sick. I like girls, so if I dated anyone, and I suspect it is a long way off, it will be as a Lesbian!" "OK. We can discuss that in more detail this evening. You can start thinking about what name you might like to use from now on. That's a simple change, so why not do it?" Mum went off to buy me my first make-up. Oh, whoopee! Am I looking forward to doing that every day. Not! I've watched women re-doing their lipstick many times a day and I'm told they almost do a re-spray every time they go to the loo. Now that's something to look forward to - like gut-ache! My name. Why would I want to change it? It's mine! Would I want to be called Amanda, Suzy, Margaret or something? I don't think so, although I kinda know I've got to start thinking more girly. How do I do that, I wonder? Then I had a light-bulb moment. I haven't had many of those so I was rather, well, very pleased with it. Amber Rose Turner! Then I could still be called Am by everyone! I wouldn't notice the difference but as far as anyone else was concerned, I had a perfectly girly name. When Mum arrived home, she found me bouncing around the sitting room shouting just one word. "Yes!" "What's happening, Am? I'm pleased to see you this happy but what brought it about?" "No need to look for a new name for me, Mum. I've found it!" "And it's obviously one you approve of?" I explained what I had come up with and the growing smile on her face told me I had at least one convert. "That's great, Am! Good thinking. I'm sure your dad will be happy with that because we both felt it might cause some friction trying to sort it out." That gave me a small but definite internal glow which went out with a *pop* as she started her next sentence. "Now, I've bought you some make-up. It's cheap stuff for you to practice with. I'll buy you some good stuff when you've learned how to use it. What I'd like you to do is go up to your room and lay it all out on your dressing table and then go and wash your face with warm water and soap, dry it carefully and than wait for me to come up to join you and we'll have your first lesson." Oh joy! My first girly lesson. I have to remember that I'm not a boy, just a girl who's starting to learn her girlhood late. Pots of cold cream. Why so many? Foundation, powder, blusher, eye shadow, mascara, eye liner, lip liner, lipstick, lip gloss, concealer, a big bag of cleaning pads, cotton wool, pink nail varnish and remover, a large box of tissues, a small waste paper bin, perfume. Perfume? Was I going to have to spray myself with perfume? A moment or two's thinking told me the answer was that women use perfume, so get used to it, lady! I'm sure you don't need a detailed description of my lesson; which seemed to go on for hours, Best to say that by the time Mum let up the bin had been emptied twice, my face was feeling a little raw but at least I looked slightly less of a clown than after my first attempt. We went down for some lunch with me sporting a light make-over and smelling like the front entrance to Boots the Chemists with my spritz of perfume. Now I knew why I needed all that cold cream. We'd emptied 2 jars! "You did quite well, Am. You just have to remember that at your age a little goes a very long way. Use too much and the boys will take it as an invitation!" As far as I was concerned, that was an excellent invitation to not use it at all! However, I knew Mum had never gone a day without putting on the slap and she wasn't going to let me get away with it. Dad glanced at me when I walked into the kitchen and then, bless him, he smiled. "You look great, Am! That makes you look very pretty." At that moment I liked my dad more than my mum! I didn't know if he actually liked it, even realised I was made up or had been primed by Mum, but he was being so nice about it all. He seemed to be accepting the fact that he had lost his son and gained a daughter with - what's the word? Oh yes. Equanimity. I sat down and ate my lunch with both a smile and make-up on my face! Me? Pretty? Oh, come on now! I must have given my thoughts away as he followed that up by saying "I'm not joking or pulling your leg, Am. A touch of make-up turns you from a 'Boy or girl, I'm not quite sure' into a pretty young lady and I've been around your mum long enough to know what's happening." I was very close to making my mascara run after hearing that, but I managed, just, to keep my eyes from leaking! Mum, who had just sat there smiling gently, spoke up "Go upstairs, Am, and open the wardrobe doors in our bedroom. There's a full length mirror there. Go and take a good hard look at Miss Amber Rose Turner!" I did as I was told, I usually do, although I admit I did kinda slow down, the nearer I got to the mirror. I took a deep breath, opened the wardrobe doors and stepped in front of it, wondering what I would see. A fairly nice-looking teenage girl stood facing me. I will admit to a negative bias in my self-rating! Perhaps I really did look quite good! My hair was drawn back into a high pony tail to aid with my make-up lessons and it was now long enough to make a decent show of it. My made-up face was above my white cotton polyester blouse which showed off my small but gradually increasing bust over a small waist and a pair of black school trousers which showed off my increasingly wide hips and my already - to me - huge bum! I was wearing black Sketchers which looked just feminine enough not to spoil the look. I was a bit stunned. Wrong! I was a lot stunned! There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to pretend I was a boy ever again! There was a voice behind me. "Not a bad looker, is she?" "I suppose not, Mum. I am a girl, aren't I." "Totally, darling! All we have to do now is show you how to be the part. Not act the part. That's only for boys!" "Does that mean I have to get all dolled up in skirts and dresses and wear frilly underwear all the time?" "Look at yourself in the mirror again, Am. Is there anything, anything at all, about your looks that suggests you couldn't go out into the world as a girl right now?" "I don't think so." "Neither do I! You have to remember that there are all different kinds of girls in this world, Am. There are those who do want to dress up in skirts and dresses and wear frillies all the time. There are others who would consider what you are wearing at the moment far too feminine. Unless there is a uniform requirement or conventional dress for a particular occasion, you wear what you like to wear, what you feel comfortable in, what you feel pretty in. It's entirely up to you!" There will now be a short intermission. I need one, even if you don't! Someone asked if I still found my bra uncomfortable after wearing one all the time for several months. I haven't forgotten I'm wearing one. After all, I'm growing quite fast and a bra that was comfortable a while ago is becoming over-full now and I can feel that, but most of the time I didn't really notice it any more. What I find much more difficult to put up with is the increasing size of my hips, bum and thighs. It feels like I'm beginning to overflow chairs and I can't swing my arms the way I used to as my hips now get in the way more and more. Someone also asked me if I was feeling more girly now. How do I know? It's not as if someone had thrown a switch and all of a sudden I was converted into a dumb under-dressed bimbo or something! Yes, I was starting to get more used to doing things in a girly way, I'm getting better at putting make-up on and I can put my bra on quickly; and without help! I can do a reasonable job of making my hair look fairly girly and I'm definitely getting better at it with daily practice. Does that make me feel more girly? I don't have a clue! I'm just me - Am! Intermission over and back to my story. After tea we settled down in the sitting room. It looked slightly ominous that Dad was sitting there with several sheets of paper! He smiled when he saw me glance at them. "Don't worry, Am! It's just so I can hopefully have the answers to hand when we discuss things." I smiled just to let him know that I understood and wasn't panicking. "Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we? Are we all agreed that the evidence all points to Am being our daughter and not our son. Oh!And I should tell you Am, that we had a letter this morning with your DNA results which says you are one hundred percent XX." That's my gander cooked! I'm definitely a goose! "The letter had a lot more to say, but I suggest that we refer to it as we come to each item. Just to let you know, Am, there is nothing nasty in it you will have to worry about." Does that make me feel better? I'm not sure, but I suppose it does. "The consultant says the evidence is good enough by a long way for us to arrange for the re-issue of your birth certificate and to have all your other records amended but, you will have to decide on a more feminine name or one or two officials may judder to a halt!" I can imagine some old fogey having trouble with the change even if my name was very feminine! "The good news is that you have come up with a great solution which we are all happy with..." I would still rather be Ambrose, but that one is now a No-no! "... and so, If you agree now, Am, we can go ahead and get those changes made straight away." I nodded my agreement and Dad made a mark on his papers. "Now there are some slightly more difficult things we have to deal with." Oh Gawd! Now what? Mum took it up. "You have already started your make-up lessons and you are doing quite well and I will want you to carry on with those but, in addition, as we are all agreed that this house contains a daughter and not a son, I want to see all the boy clothes in the house go. I want you to dress as a girl full time from now on. As we discussed earlier today, that doesn't mean all the time in skirts, dresses or frillies of any sort but we will expect to see our daughter around the house. Do you understand that, Am?" "Am I dressed as a girl right now, Mum?" "Almost. But we can talk about that later!" Almost? What...? Oh! I realised what she meant and that she didn't want to discuss it in front of Dad. "So you will be happy to see me like this all the time?" "No, Am, I won't." I knew it was too good to be true! "I've no wish to humiliate you in any way, but inside this house, at least in the short term, I shall expect you to practice wearing dresses and skirts. I will leave it to you if you want to try out some frillies, but the dresses and skirts are a definite. You really do have to know how to wear them properly even if you only rarely do." "Now your mother told you she would make arrangements for your education at the end of the school holidays and she has done so. We have arranged tor you to be home tutored at least for the next year and a Mrs Taylor will be coming here four days a week. We don't think you will need five days as you will be getting one-to-one tutoring all the time." Mum started again. "But don't think you are getting away with just four days! Each Friday, a behaviourist called Miss Elliott with be coming to help you learn 'girlhood' I suppose you would call it." Um! I suppose I should have seen that coming! "and because you are confirmed as a girl in every way, you will attend your lessons as a girl in school uniform, starting next Monday. Mrs Taylor knows all about you and will treat you entirely as a schoolgirl. She will be a little soft on you to start with, but, you can expect normal school discipline otherwise." "Your Friday sessions will be in uniform as well and they will help you to become the girl you really are." "Now, outside of school hours and at weekends, you can dress just as any other teenage girl would do and I will get you magazines and so forth so that you can study what is 'in'." "We're sorry if this seems a little harsh, Am, but you have a lot of leeway to make up and we need to get you moving quickly." I was being turned into a schoolgirl! I could sort of understand what was going on, but a girl's uniform! I was not a happy bunny at the thought! "We are sorry, Am, but we do hope you understand the need to do this." "Having to dress as a schoolgirl doesn't fill me with happiness, Dad, but I suppose that is what I am. It's not as if you are trying to change me from a boy to a girl, is it?" "No, it isn't and I'm glad you are taking it so well. We know it's going to be difficult and we will help you any way we can but..." "But you won't let me get away with anything!" They both smiled and I knew I had got that one right! "We know there will be times when you'll be unhappy about what is happening to you but you will always be able to talk to us about it and if we can help you, we will." "Now, back to the consultant's letter. He suggests that you should be 'tidied up' as he puts it, down below so that later on, you will look like a girl in the showers and so forth. It will mean that you do have to sit down to pee but other girls will expect you to do that anyway and you will need to appear normal in that respect." "Now, your mother has some things to discuss with you that are rather more intimate so I'm going to bow out now so as not to embarrass you." "Thanks, Dad." As if I wasn't in enough of a state in any case. Still, I suppose it was good of him to do it. I wondered what I was in for next and I didn't have to wait long before I found out! "OK, Am. You remember that I said "not quite" when you asked if I was happy with the way you are dressed at the moment? I'm not sure if you understand that I mean all, every, piece of boys clothes you have must go and that includes all your underwear. In future you will always wear girls underwear. If you always wear plain white cotton that's fine with me or you can wear frillies if the fancy takes you, but that is the way it's going to be. Understood?" "Yes, Mum." "The suggestion that you should be 'tidied up' is a good one and it will help you be comfortable under the circumstances. You can take it that there will be a hospital appointment in the near future for that to be done." The last shreds of what I thought was my manhood would then be gone. Oh well! "Now, as you know, you are missing some aspects of female plumbing. In one way you are lucky in that you won't have the woman's curse. You will never have a period although the consultant warns that as you have a very strong hormonal system, the natural cycle will probably kick in, meaning you may feel a bit low for a couple of days each month. If that is all that happens then, lucky you!" I'd heard about the pain and discomfort that women suffer on a monthly basis so I was relatively happy about that situation at least! "I have to tell you about the next bit although nothing is going to happen before your eighteenth birthday." Now what? My brain was almost free-wheeling already! "As you know, you have no Fallopian tubes, no womb, no uterus and no vagina. The consultant can do nothing about the first three, but he can build you a vagina if you wanted one. However, he doubts it will be a good idea as whatever he gives you will be completely non- functional. It will be permanently dry which means you would have to lubricate it yourself before it was used, there would be no real feeling other than some pain if you did use it and there would be problems of post-use hygiene if you did!" The thought of some boy shoving his hairy dick into me made me feel really sick. Mum saw the look on my face and read my thoughts correctly. "I take it that quite apart from the fact that your dad and I won't allow such an operation until you are eighteen, from what you said previously, you won't be asking for one any time soon?" "I'll be quite happy to be without one, Mum." "I thought that would be the case so we can put that one in the reject column right now!" Good! I don't want and don't need a vagina! "Just to finish up, the consultant says that when you have been tidied up, you will at least look completely girly down below even without a vagina." Is that a good thing? I suppose so, even though it means I have to have a bit of surgery. Mum suddenly pulled me into a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. It felt very nice! "I'm dreadfully sorry this has all happened to you, darling. Your dad and I both hate having to apply all these strange rules, but I think you know that, underneath it all, we have to do it and we really do love you to bits!" That did make me feel a teeny bit better but I have to admit that I wasn't looking forward to my immediate future. "Can we finish on a bit of good news, Am?" There was some? I nodded - hard! "There is a foundation that looks after the interests of people like you and they have given you, through us, a large grant to help you through the transition. It means that a complete change of wardrobe won't cost us a thing and all your tutoring comes free for up to two years." I thought about how much my change could be costing mum and dad and realised that this would make things a whole lot easier for all of us. She smiled at me and then pushed me gently towards the stairs. "Get yourself off to bed and we'll see you at breakfast." I made my way upstairs and started to get ready for bed. The next surprise came as I went to get my pyjamas from under my pillow only to discover that I was now the proud owner of a nightdress! No, I wasn't suddenly going to spend my nights in satin and nylon baby-doll outfits, I had a fairly plain brushed cotton (so it said on the label) knee length job with short sleeves and a pair of plain white cotton panties. Another fantasy clich? bites the dust! I knew it would be pointless asking why or if I could have my pyjamas back, so I went to bed for the first time in a nightie! There was light in the room, a thud and my hip and shoulder hurt! I realised slowly that I had fallen out of bed because I had managed to get my legs tangled in my nightie so tightly... Damn! School started on the Monday morning and I found myself in a skirt for the first time with a whole new set of lessons to learn , and not just the usual school lessons! I discovered that my skirt had rules of its own and Mrs Taylor was going to make sure that I obeyed them at all times. She made it very clear to me that there were many (most!) boys and men around who only had one thing on their minds and that was to see what a girl wore under her skirt, so there were rules I needed to follow for my own modesty, not just now and again, but at all times ! Keep your knees together at all times when seated, or keep your legs crossed! Smooth your skirt under your legs when you sit, especially with a short skirt. Place at least one hand in your lap when seated to ensure your skirt never lifts for any reason. If possible, place both hands, clasped gently and neatly together, in your lap. When climbing stairs or outside on a windy day, clasp the side seams of your skirt between the first finger and thumb of each hand close to your sides to stop it from lifting and showing your undies and also to reduce the chances of up-skirting by any passing male! My lessons were punctuated regularly with instructions: "Amber! Keep your knees together" and "Sit up straight, Amber! Don't slouch!" I suppose I did start to pre-empt some of these instructions more and more but the one that really stung was "Amber! Stop behaving like a boy! Well-behaved young ladies do not do that sort of thing!" I had dropped my pencil case on the floor and bent to pick it up boy- wise, just bending at the waist. I presented her with a full-on view of the day's choice of panties! I received the old-fashioned punishment of a hundred lines of 'hips and knees'. Bend at the hips and knees and keep your knees together all the time. It was almost a relief (almost, but not quite!) when the letter came from the hospital inviting me to come and get fixed! Two more weeks of school work and more girly lessons before I was finally found, lying on a trolley in a hospital gown outside the operating theatre ready to be put under. Obviously I don't remember anything of the operation, just gradually coming to and realising that I hurt badly all round my furniture (Well, it was as good an expression as any, wasn't it?) A nurse came past my bed and commented, "Ah! You're awake now, are you?" What to answer? Ho hum! I needed something to reduce the pain so I opted for the sensible reply! Apparently I had to accept the pain as her answer was that the doctor would be coming to see me shortly and he would prescribe something for me. I wondered if that would happen the same day so was pleasantly surprised when he turned up about five minutes later prescribing something about twenty-five letters long which soon had me on a high that I suspect most junkies would really enjoy. I thought I needed a pee but was then informed that I was fitted with a catheter which meant I didn't have to worry about it - just relax! I spent the next five days healing, peeing through a tube into a plastic bag, using a bed pan and having bed baths from nurses who though a really good scrub was always a good idea before the plug was pulled out of my bladder (Oh, I really enjoyed that. Not!) and I was allowed to waddle home with a sheet of instructions about how to look after myself. Basically, I was to spend the next week doing very little or nothing at all while I continued to heal. I did learn one thing during that idle week and that was how to have a successful pee/spray using my revised apparatus. It wasn't the inch- accurate stream I was used to but more like a watering-can rose with half the holes blocked! It required care and attention to detail! It was soon back to schooling again and I thought I was doing quite well. Mrs Taylor said I was well ahead on my core subjects and told Mum I was a good student although not the best girl she had ever taught! However, she said I was improving. I knew what she meant. The number of times I was called for unladylike behaviour was falling steadily and I thought I was getting it in hand. Suddenly, There was another crisis - for me at least! Mum asked Miss Elliott how I was doing and didn't like the answer. Apparently, I had one major failing and I didn't seem to be improving at all. She said I was walking like a colt! I had no idea of how to take shorter ladylike steps and I paced about as if I was on an Army route march! Constant exercises had apparently had no effect for, as soon as the exercise finished, I went back to large splay-footed paces again. I was soon up in front of the head mistress (Mum). "This can't be allowed to go on, Am. You are doing so well in every other area so we do have to solve it. I think I know a solution and we'll apply it from Monday morning onwards and see if we can get things sorted." Monday seemed to come round much quicker than usual and I woke, wondering what Mum had in mind. I got up, did my ablutions and walked back into my bedroom to find Mum standing there. "I think this will sort out your problem, Am." She was holding up a long tube of black material which I realised after a few moments was a long skirt. A very long skirt. A very long, very narrow skirt! I wondered to start with if I would be able to even get it on, let alone walk in it! She stood there while I got dressed, finally pulling this long creation up, over my hips to my waist where I tucked my blouse in, did up the fastening and the zip. I stepped into my shoes, stood up and tried to walk. At least I didn't fall over, but I found the hem extremely restrictive and that I did have to take really short steps. I had no choice in the matter. "You'll be wearing skirts like this one all day, every day for the foreseeable future. Am. You'll have to continue with it until I'm satisfied that you have not just learned how to walk in a ladylike way but that it's completely automatic. Now do your hair and make-up and come down to breakfast." I was reduced to mincing everywhere in the house. The first thing was learning how to deal with the stairs and then how to raise my skirt slightly when sitting down to ease the seams. At first it was pure torture. It took me a long time to get anywhere in the house and it took three times as many steps to get there. After a month, I was starting to take short steps which didn't put a strain on my skirt hem. Not that this really mattered as Mum had had a strong tape stitched in round the hem. After six weeks, I began to have hopes of release fairly soon but these were dashed completely when I asked Mum. "Oh, no dear! I'm thinking about at least six months. The fact that you're still even thinking about it being over shortly shows you still have a long way to go." The Autumn term was coming to an end and Mrs Taylor set me a series of end-of-term exams. They were not easy but at least there were no outside disturbances and I was able to concentrate on them completely. I had to wait till the following week for the results and, for once, it was really good news. I had scored over 95 percent in all of them! Mrs Taylor was very pleased and Mum and Dad were delighted! Me? I was chuffed to bits and would have danced around the house except...! There was another piece of news I could have done without. I was now the proud owner of a pair of C cup boobs. The Doctor's prediction had turned out to be true, so far! Now I had to wonder if I was going to continue growing and if so, how far? Had the boob fairy finally finished with me? Christmas arrived and celebrations were in order. We would have a huge chicken dinner with all the usual trimmings and Christmas pudding for those of us who wanted it. We would sit round the tree and open our presents after we had recovered a bit. In my condition, I had been allowed to get Miss Elliott to buy my presents which she had done for me. There were some little bits of jewellery and some perfume from my teachers and Mum and Dad had got me some clothes, not too outlandish or out of fashion which I was grateful for. Finally, there was just one parcel left. It was addressed to me from Mum. I wondered what on earth it could be and so opened it very carefully. I blushed! If there was a piece of skin on my body capable of blushing, I'll swear it did! Scarlet! She had only gone and bought me the frilliest, most feminine matching set of underwear imaginable. Pink and black satin and lace with little bows and roses attached here and there. A half-cup C cup (she knew!) booster bra, panties, suspender belt (six suspenders?), a waspie and two packs of shear black nylons. "I won't make you model them in company, Am..." Thank goodness for that. I would have died! "... but I'd like you to put them away in a drawer and then sometime, when you feel like it. Just try them!" Dad just sat there with a silly grin on his face which was beginning to annoy me until he spoke "Don't get upset, Am! Your mother has a set just like that and she blushed just as much when she got it!" I looked across at Mum to see her starting to warm up considerably as well. At this point, we all fell about laughing. Nice one, Dad! "Don't let it embarrass you, Am. Apart from what's absolutely necessary in order to get you well into girlhood, we don't want to force you to do anything. If that set sits in a drawer for years, we won't mind. We simply want you to have the opportunity to try things out and see if you do actually like them." I knew this deep down and so the next thing that happened was a huge hug for both of them from me. It was well into the Spring term when Mum finally released me from my hobble skirts. There was absolutely no doubt that I could and did walk in a much more feminine way. "We think it's time for you to start going out in the world, Am. We aren't asking you go straight into town on your own or back to school in your new persona but if you like, come for a short walk in the country or one of the local parks with us. What do you think about that?" I had been out in our garden once or twice recently and I knew various people had seen me without adverse comment so I was happy to relieve some of my cabin fever with a walk out with my parents. I made a point of dressing in a reasonably feminine way. Skirt, jumper, jacket, tights and shoes with a one inch heel, fully made up and with my hair in a very high set pony tail. I think I looked quietly girly and Mum's smile when she saw me confirmed that idea for me. We took the car to a local park and then walked, three abreast with Dad in the middle at a gentle pace round some of the paths. We passed a number of people, most of whom said some sort of hello and although I felt one or two male eyes on me, it didn't seem to be anything other than a gentle checking out. I could live with that! This was the first time I had walked for any great distance for some time and I found it somewhat strange walking on a definite heel and showing off my legs, essentially bare to above my knees. However, the strangest feeling was that of my boobs bouncing gently up and down in time with my walking. I could not only see it but I could definitely feel it as well! I found that if I rotated my hips more as I walked, it reduced the effect a little. It didn't fill me with joy to realise that I would announce myself to the boys by waving my bum or boobs around and, if I grew any bigger, this situation would only get worse! I really did need to find myself a girlfriend soon or the boys would be crawling all over me! I made sure that walking out became a habit very quickly, much to Mum and Dad's pleasure although I'm not sure that they really understood why! It was all the incentive I needed to get myself integrated back into teen society, I was soon walking into town on my own, but with an official letter in my handbag explaining why I wasn't I school, just in case I got stopped. The grant I had allowed me to have a little money in my purse and I also had a credit card, made out to Amber Turner, of course (and with a very limited credit line!) which allowed me to go shopping for small items or buy a snack. I was getting used to being around people as a girl, rather than as a boy. Going into somewhere like Victoria's Secret was a very strange experience to start with although Mum's purchase of my frillies set (still unused) at least prepared me for what I was exposed to when I walked in. Getting into conversations about such things with a female assistant without being embarrassed was something I had to get used to. After all, not many teenage boys would dare even enter the place, let alone start talking to the assistants about the benefits of particular pieces of very intimate underwear! It was obvious to me that, whether I wore frillies of not, it would help me fit in with other girls if I at least knew what I was talking about and could do so without turning all pink and obvious! My first year as a girl was coming rapidly to an end. Mrs Taylor set me end of year exams which I did very well at and my physicals at the hospital didn't set off any alarm bells although Mr Perkins admitted that he had no idea why I was so fit and healthy under the circumstances. All he could say was that he hoped this would continue and that If I had any unusual symptoms, I was to contact him immediately. The decision was made that I wouldn't be going back to my old school for fairly obvious reasons (I didn't want to get beaten up by bullies who remembered me as a boy) but that I would start the next Autumn term at a small local private girls-only school where I would finish my education. My grant would stretch to that. After a Summer holiday by the seaside, which included learning not to be embarrassed to be seen in a bikini, I was finally standing at the gates to my new school, resplendent in my new schoolgirl uniform about to start my new life in ernest. Did my boobs get any bigger? That's another story! All this, just because I had an itch!