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The Anonymiss Sister (c) 2019 by Nom de Plume The thrilling conclusion to the Spurious Sister saga - fame and fortune in Hollywood, a last fling turns into disaster, big brother to the rescue, the ultimate sacrifice and rebirth as a woman After my father and brother caught a cab to the airport, I enjoyed a leisurely walk down Madison Avenue, window shopping as I made my way north before I turned right on 64th Street towards the Plaza Athenee. Walking on a city sidewalk in high heels will never be one of my favorite activities, but I regarded it as a right of passage into the strange new world of femininity that awaited me. I'd called Aunt Esther when I was leaving Dr. Jacob's office, and she suggested a ladies' lunch at Arabelle, one of the chicest restaurants in New York. I'd been there once before, at a luncheon hosted by one of my designers early in my career, and I'd gaped in awe at the beautiful painted clouds in the ceiling and the glittering Murano chandeliers. Now I was a self-assured young woman as I crossed the marble lobby, the clickety clacking of my high heels turning the heads of several gentlemen when I entered the restaurant. My aunt was waiting for me at an elegantly set table. I was surprised to see an ice bucket filled with a bottle of expensive French champagne, and she winked at me as the waiter filled my Baccarat crystal glass. "I'm quite well known here," she assured me, "and when you're dressed and made up like that, you look very mature. Cheers!" she said as she raised her glass. I waited until another waiter placed a crisp linen napkin over my skirt before I lifted my glass. "A toast to my new brother Andrew," I said. "I've never seen my sister so happy." "I take it your meeting with Dr. Jacobs went as expected?" "Better than expected, at least as far as I'm concerned. Dad gave his consent to the tests and examinations which will be necessary to start the process, but it could be several years before the doctor gets the clearances, I think he called them, that he'll need before he can operate." "I can't imagine Andrew being very happy about waiting for anything." "True, but the doctor told him he can stay on testosterone, since he's already started menstruating - it feels so weird to say that - and have his breasts removed too." "There will be no turning back from that! How about you, Amy, are you happy about all this?" I took a long sip of champagne. "I think so. The whole idea is growing on me, and I don't want to disappoint Andrew. The doctor told me I can stay on my puberty blockers, and I shouldn't start taking female hormones right now, so my...guy parts won't get messed up." "Ford Models will be happy about that." "I know. So will Robert." I smiled. *** New York turns into a fairyland at Christmastime. The tree at Rockefeller Center, the lights and displays in all the big stores, the giant snowflake suspended over Fifth Avenue between the Crown Building and Tiffany's - it all adds up to something magical, especially for children and a young woman in love. That Christmas, my first as a teenaged girl, I said goodbye to my childhood and embraced my future as a woman. Robert and I texted each other constantly after our weekend together in New Haven. I loved his sense of humor! He told me that he'd begun stalking me in women's fashion magazines, and he was delighted with the buzz that had sprung up on social media about the uncertain gender of the new "It Girl" taking the fashion industry by storm. It was true that my bookings had become so intense that I began having to turn down some gigs to keep my grades up at school, which Ford Models had no problem with. My life had reached a perfect equilibrium, and if I'd been a bit older and wiser, I'd have known it was too good to last. Robert's parents lived in a prestigious co-op on Park Avenue. A few days after he got home from Yale for Christmas vacation, Aunt Esther and I were invited to a party at their home. I was so excited! I spent hours at several high-end boutiques on Madison Avenue, searching for a sweet but sexy ensemble. I finally settled on a little red dress which fit like I'd been poured into it, insanely high stilettos and shimmery black thigh high stockings. My aunt lent me a diamond necklace and earrings, as well as a white fox jacket that would probably get me stoned if I wore it anywhere else but a private party on the Upper East Side. There was a doorman in a dark green uniform and officer's hat, who recognized Aunt Esther and waved us in. He pushed the elevator button, and we rode up to the fifth floor. When the elevator door opened again, we emerged into a small lobby, where we were greeted again by a liveried butler who offered to take our coats. "They own the whole floor?" I asked my aunt as she handed the butler her mink. "I love rich people," she laughed. I surrendered my fox to the butler, and my aunt led me through the lobby into a spectacular parlor, where black waiters in waistcoats were pouring champagne to a room full of well-heeled Manhattanites. "Esther, darling, you look lovely," our hostess gushed. "And this must be the famous Amy, I must say you're looking very grown up, so different from the little teenager who seduced my son on the beach last summer." She winked at me. "It's these heels," I smiled, looking down at her, "and where, pray tell, is the young man in question?" "Oh, he's here with his friend somewhere." His friend? "If you see him, tell him to mingle." My aunt had disappeared into a crowd of her old cronies, so I slipped away and began to explore the apartment, which was beautifully furnished, including several stunning works of art. Suddenly Robert emerged from one of the bedrooms, looking slightly disheveled, along with another young man who had a shit-eating grin on his face. "There she is!" Robert exclaimed. He'd obviously been drinking. Turning to his cohort, he slurred, "Bruce, meet Amy, the...person I was telling you about." "Ah, I see exactly what you mean. Extraordinary!" Bruce appeared to be as drunk as Robert. "Why don't you join us?" Robert said, pointing back towards the bedroom. I was finding it difficult to breathe. "You, me and Bruce?" They both nodded. "Robert, can I talk to you for a minute?" I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the bedroom, leaving Bruce standing outside when I closed the door. "What's with Bruce?" "He's a junior at Yale." "Is he from New York?" "No, he's spending the Holidays with us." "Oh." "He's great in the sack. And I've told him all about you." "About me?" "You know...." "Robert, I thought you weren't out at Yale?" "Things have changed. But that doesn't mean we can't still have a blast together." "With Bruce." "Sure, why not?" The end of a young girl's first love is heartbreaking, and I felt like I was spinning in a whirlpool. "I'm why not," I said defiantly. "Call me an old-fashioned girl, but a threesome with you and your buddy is not happening." "Don't be such a prude," he said, leaning in for a kiss. I pushed him away. "You're creeping me out." Just then the door opened and Bruce came in. "Can I join the party? You really do look like a chick. Not exactly my scene, but maybe once we get your panties off...." I spun on my heel, stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind me. Fortunately, I was able to find a powder room. Tears were running down my face, and I was shaking with sobs. I stayed in there for a long time, before I finally dried my eyes, fixed my makeup and re-emerged into the boisterous party. The next few hours were torture for me, alone and heartbroken, before I finally dragged my aunt out the door. She could tell that something was wrong. "Trouble with Robert?" she asked gently. "I don't want to talk about him," I sniffed. "I understand. Maybe you should head west for the Holidays after all?" My parents had been bugging me to come home for Christmas, but I kept putting them off, wanting to be with Robert. Suddenly a change in scene sounded like the best thing in the world for me. "Good idea. Are you sure you won't be lonely?" "Good Lord no, I have a standing invitation to spend the Holidays in Palm Beach with some dear friends. Let's call the airlines when we get back to the apartment." *** My brother, looking very handsome and totally juiced, met me at the baggage carousel. My mother might have had trouble recognizing me the last time I'd been there, but there was no mistaking me by Andrew as he strode manfully up to me and gave me a playful kiss on the cheek. "Hey little sister, you're looking good," he said. After seven hours including a bad connection on Southwest, I found that hard to believe. "Although I'm a little surprised you're not showing off those million dollar legs." He was referring to one of my more successful modeling campaigns, on behalf of the country's largest manufacturer of hosiery. It was a cute takeoff on the famous TV commercial Joe Namath did back when he was playing for the Jets, wearing silky sheer pantyhose that really did make his battered legs look good. "I'll put 'em on if you do," I teased him. "Like that's gonna happen," he laughed. Both of us were dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, which is exactly how I intended to stay during my week away from New York, and Andrew hadn't put on a stitch of women's clothing since the day he and my Dad were swept overboard and washed onto a desert island. "Something I've always wondered," I said after Andrew grabbed my suitcase and we started walking towards the garage. "What possessed you to put on a skirt the last day you were on that ship? So unlike you, even when you were still a girl." "I know! Dad and I had a big fight about it, but it was the last night of our cruise and we were supposed to get dressed up for dinner. A long peasant skirt was the only thing I could come up with. Turned out it saved our lives after I made it into a signal flag." "So who's going to play you in the movie?" "That's turning into a huge drama," he sighed. We reached the car, a shiny BMW sedan. "This is new," I said. "How long have you had your license?" "Our ship came in," Andrew said after he started the car. "And I got my license last month. The only downside is I had to get it in your name!" "You mean me as in Amy?" "Right. I'm hoping we can get the legal paperwork started while you're back here, to start the switch." "Fine with me. So tell me about the big drama in movieland." He told me that production had ground to a halt when LGBTQ activists launched a protest against the A-list actress who had been cast to play him in the picture. "They say only a transgender person can understand the depth of the role. Personally, I think they're full of shit, but the protest has been a goldmine in terms of publicity. It's keeping our book on the best seller lists, but the real money will come from the movie deal, except because our agent insisted on participation in the gross, we get zippo till the film is released." "Welcome to Hollywood." My modeling career had given me a crash course in the cutthroat entertainment business, and an idea started spinning in my head. "How would you feel about your little sister in the role?" "You? Not a chance. I mean, you're cute enough to play me before, and I guess you remember enough about being a guy to play me after too, but you have zero acting experience. It's too big a risk." "Andrew, ever since I did that pantyhose commercial, my agency has been swamped with movie offers. I told them to turn them all down, for the same reasons you just mentioned, but this role was made for me. And think of the publicity!" "I thought you didn't want publicity." "Things have changed." "What about your society boyfriend?" "He's a douchbag." "Ouch. I'm sorry." "Don't be. I was living in a fantasy, trying to have the best of both worlds. I've got one life to live, and I'm going to make the most of it, every step of the way." I reached into my purse for my phone, and put in a call to my agency. *** Boffo Debut for Mystery Model Yesterday's opening of Lost and Found marked the stunning screen debut of Hollywood's next superstar. Amy (like Beyonc? or Cher, one name suffices) is the hottest young model in New York, whose true gender has been a carefully preserved mystery. Amy confuses the situation further with flawless portrayals of both a troubled young woman and the heroic young man she slowly becomes. Lost and Found tells the well-known story of a teenaged girl and her father, portrayed by Matt Damon in a solid if overshadowed performance, who disappeared for six months after being lost at sea. The first half of the picture delivers all the suspense of the shipwreck in riveting style, including spectacular special effects which will certainly contend for an Academy Award. But it is the second half of the film, during which the daughter slowly loses all traces of her girlhood and emerges as a rugged, handsome young man who refuses to surrender to the hazards and privations of a desolate island, and who refuses to go back to being a girl after they are finally rescued, that will captivate audiences long after the headlines have faded from memory. Paramount faced withering criticism when they yielded to protests from the LGBTQ community and cast the unproven Amy in her first screen role. If early box office results are any indication, their decision will pay off handsomely. This is a performance for the ages, and the only question the Academy faces will be whether to nominate Amy for Best Actor or Best Actress? *** My perfect life in Manhattan was turning upside down. Paparazzi began stalking me every time I left Aunt Esther's apartment, and even the kids at school, who were accustomed to rubbing shoulders with the rich and the famous, kept their distance when I passed them in the hall or sat next to them in class. As for the tabloids, the Enquirer reported breathlessly that I was a genetic female, whereas the Star had conclusive proof that I was spawned by an alien race! When I wasn't working a modeling gig (and I do mean work, high fashion modeling is very intense) I couldn't even enjoy dressing up as a girl anymore: to conceal my identity, I took to wearing hoodies and leggings. By the time Lost and Found hit the theaters, my hair was long enough for a pixie cut (I'd cut it off with a clamshell, just like my brother, in one take) but I kept it hidden under a ball cap, and I even stopped shaving my legs every day. I was in this unhappy state when Dr. Binder asked me to come in for an appointment. Dr. Binder and Dr. Jacobs were collaborating closely as the powers-that- be fretted over our proposed gender swap. Andrew (that was his legal name now, and mine had also been changed, to Amy) and I had to undergo biweekly blood tests, as the doctors jumped through the medical hoops. At least Andrew didn't have to schlep to New York - in fact, he was getting deeper and deeper into his schoolboy role, and Lost and Found had elevated him into a modern-day icon. Which was neither here nor there to me as I walked into Dr. Binder's office. He received me at once, and I could tell by the strange look on his face that something was up. "How are you feeling, Amy?" he asked as he surveyed my shabby appearance. I was a far cry from the smartly dressed young model who had started my treatments. "Okay. Stressed, I guess. The price of fame." "I must say, your portrayal of your sister's transition into your brother was astonishing. I'm afraid it's being seized upon by critics of Dr. Jacobs." "It's only acting. Is that why you asked me to come in here?" "No." He weighed his words. "I have good news and bad news." "Oh oh. Please give me the bad news first." "Your recent lab results are a bit concerning. Your testosterone levels are up sharply. Under ordinary circumstances I'd start prescribing female hormones immediately, but that could cause serious problems for your brother. By the same token, if we don't take steps to counteract this, it will obviously make your transition into a woman much more difficult" I was floored. "And what's the good news?" The doctor broke into a broad smile. "The medical boards have signed off on Dr. Jacob's proposed course of treatment. As soon as your brother can get to New York, Dr. Jacobs would like to schedule your surgeries. Given your changing hormonal balance, time is of the essence. I'm going to start you on female hormones right now, since they won't appreciably affect your genitalia before the surgery can take place." I should have been over the moon, but up until that moment the idea of actually turning myself into my sister had seemed like a fantastic dream, and the reality took a moment to sink in. "Have you told Andrew?" "I thought we might call him together." He nodded towards the speakerphone on his desk. "Assuming you're still willing to proceed? This is obviously a life-altering decision, and Dr. Jacobs and I both want to give you and Andrew every opportunity to change your minds." "If I don't, he'll kill me. And yes, of course I want to go through with it!" "Are you one hundred percent sure?" "Yes. It's all a bit overwhelming, but yes sir, this is something I want to do. Definitely. Only do you mind if I tell Andrew myself?" "Of course," he said. "Feel free to call him from here. Just let me know when you're through," he said as he got up to leave the room. I tried Andrew on his cellphone, but the call went right to voicemail. "Please call me, bro," I said. It was three hours earlier back home, and he was probably still in class. Andrew had just turned eighteen, and my sixteenth birthday was a few weeks away. I'd already celebrated my sweet sixteenth as a girl once, I reflected. This time it would be for real! I decided to try texting him: Big news, big brother Lay it on me Can you call me Not now but I can text How soon can you make it to NY? Whazzup? Oh nothing, just our operations?? R u shitting me? Nope, we're good to go Right away? As soon as you can get your ass back here For real? Yep My phone rang with a call from Andrew a few seconds later. "I can't believe it! I just got kicked out of a boring English class for whooping my head off when I got your text." "Better believe it, buddy. Will you tell Mom and Dad?" "I'm on my way home right now!" *** The female hormones went right to my head. Dr Binder assured me that any physical changes to my body, which could be counterproductive to my impending gender swap with Andrew, would be a little while in coming, but the fact that my brain was now bathing in estrogen had an immediate impact. Maybe it was just psychosomatic, but I had an intense desire to dress up as a girl again, to wear cute shoes, to put on makeup, to have my nails done, and to have my hair styled and tinted. And for the first time, I was one hundred percent at peace with the momentous decision Andrew and I had made. There were never any doubts as far as Andrew was concerned, but in my heart of hearts I knew that I had been pushed and pulled along a long and winding road: first there were my mother's manic attempts to deceive Aunt Esther as to my real identity, then there was a gentle assist from Aunt Esther once she figured out who I really was, and finally there was my sister's unbounded determination to turn herself into a boy once she came back from the dead, and the unspoken pressure to become her flip side once we learned that swapping our genders was a practical reality. All along the way, I'd readily succumbed to my increasing femininity because I'd truly come to enjoy everything about being a girl: the clothes, hair and makeup were fun and exciting, my brief but torrid love affair with Robert had turned my sexual orientation upside down, and my surprising success as a model and actress had all come naturally. I knew that I was becoming a better person, too - when I was a boy, I'd been a dunce and a delinquent, whereas since I became a girl, I'd become an A student with a dependable work ethic. Still, the actual thought of having my penis and testicles removed was frightening! Dr. Jacobs insisted on convening a "come to Jesus" meeting with my brother and me, and both of our parents, before the surgeries could be scheduled, so that all of the risks and ramifications could be fully understood. We decided to wait a few days until the end of my school year, and my brother's graduation from high school a few days after that. I'd been in receipt of a barrage of texts and emails from Robert, begging me to see him again. I ignored them at first, but he was very persistent, and when he got home from Yale for summer vacation, I reluctantly agreed to meet him for coffee. I was feeling very girly, so I dressed myself in a cute sundress and jeweled sandals which showed off my bright pink toenails. Robert was waiting for me at a Starbucks on Madison Avenue, and he was as handsome as I remembered. "Thanks for seeing me," he said after I sat down across from him. "Cute hair, I like it that way. What can I get you?" "Oh, just an Americano please." I watched him as he made his way through the line. He was looking very preppy in a pastel polo shirt, khakis and topsiders, and in spite of myself (and the female hormones) I could feel myself starting to stiffen in my panties. I'd been so consumed with work and studying for finals, I hadn't even thought about sex in months, but in spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love, and my sap was on the rise, maybe for the last time.... "You look just like a move star," Robert said after he returned with our coffees. "Seriously, I feel like such a fool for letting you get away. I've missed you terribly, Amy." "Is that why you left Bruce at home?" "Touche. Bruce is back in Ohio. He was just a friend, Amy." "And what was I, Robert?" "You were the prettiest girl and the hottest guy I've ever known, and I can't believe I treated you like that. I'm really sorry." "Apology accepted. All this doesn't happen to have anything to do with my sudden celebrity, by any chance?" "No, of course not." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I'm crazy about you, Amy, and I want to be with you." I'd agreed to meet Robert to tell him to stop bothering me and get out of my life forever, but suddenly all I wanted was to feel him inside me again! I squeezed his hand back. "This may be your last chance." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I'm going to go under the knife soon, to turn myself into a woman. I've already started on hormones." "Are you sure that's what you want?" "Yes, Robert, I'm sure. I guess that'll be the end for us." "Don't be so sure! You've been driving me insane, just the thought of you, the memory of you...and a lot of those memories are of you as a girl, a beautiful girl, and like I told you that first night, in spite of myself I'm overwhelmingly attracted to you that way." "Gee, maybe we've hit on a new form of gay conversion therapy? The trick is for the subject's boyfriend to turn himself into a girl...." "You're funny! Funny and cute, no wonder Hollywood discovered you. I want you right now, Amy...." "Right now? Won't that cause a scandal for Starbucks?" "Now you're being silly! We can go back to my parents' co-op. They're in the Hamptons opening up the beach house, and they took the staff with them." *** I had wings on my feet as we walked the few short blocks to Robert's building on Park Avenue. The doorman waved us in, and no sooner were we alone in the elevator when Robert took me in his arms and kissed me, a magical kiss that lasted until we emerged into the vestibule. We practically sprinted into his bedroom, where we started tearing each other's clothes off before we tumbled into bed. Both of us were rock hard, and Robert wasted no time in entering me from behind - I'd forgotten how much it hurt at first, but the pain was gradually replaced by a warm, wonderful feeling of fulfillment which turned to ecstasy when he grazed my prostate, again and again, pounding away while he reached around and grasped my penis with his hand. It only took a few short strokes before I was ready to cum, and he was too, moaning and groaning as he shot his load into me, which triggered a shattering orgasm of my own, and I could feel my sphincter convulsing around him as his own spasms gradually subsided. We made love three more times that afternoon, a different position each time, and we were both thoroughly sated and exhausted when I finally got myself dressed to leave. I turned away from him to fasten my bra behind my back, and when I turned around again, I could see him fumbling with the laptop computer on his desk. "Sending me a love note?" I asked him. "Uh, no," he stammered. He had a strange look on his face as he slammed the laptop closed and quickly changed the subject. "I have to join my parents in the Hamptons the day after tomorrow. Maybe you can come out some weekend?" "Maybe. I've got that surgery coming up you know, and from everything I've heard, the recovery process isn't going to be pretty." "What a buzzkill! Are you sure you want to go through with this?" "Yes, Robert, I'm sure." After I stepped into my sandals, he offered to walk me home, but it was getting late and I wanted to clear my head. So he kissed me goodbye, and I left him for the last time. On my way back to Aunt Esther's apartment, my thoughts kept returning to Robert and his computer. What was he doing when I caught him in the act? He couldn't have been making a video of us, could he? The very thought was so outrageous that I put it out of my mind, but still I had to wonder, what was he up to? *** I was still brooding about Robert and his computer when both of my parents arrived with Andrew the next day. When they got off the plane, Aunt Esther had a limo standing by to take them directly from the airport to her apartment. To impress my mother, I dolled myself up in a dress, heels and stockings - thanks to my modeling campaign, pantyhose sales were way up - and she seemed genuinely happy to see me this way. Andrew was looking very buff in a short-sleeved tee shirt with a blue letter "Y" on it. "Don't tell me you got into Yale?" I asked him after he gave me a big hug. "Your brother will be a freshman at Brigham Young," my father said proudly. The logo was uncannily similar to Yale's. "You're looking lovely, young lady." "Thanks, Dad." The next few hours were among the happiest in my life, as we all just relaxed and shared stories with each other over a leisurely dinner catered by one of Aunt Esther's favorite restaurants. The money rolling in from Dad's book and movie deals had enabled him to quit his job, and he and Mom were planning to take a cruise around the world. Mom was looking forward to some mother-daughter time with me, and I promised to help her shop for cruisewear. Andrew talked about his adventures on the football field - he made all state senior year as a placekicker - and he and Dad were planning to catch a Yankees game before he went into the hospital. Our unspoken dread about the upcoming surgeries was pushed into the back of all of our minds. The magic was broken when I excused myself to take a call from my agency on my cellphone. "Amy, I don't know how to break this to you, but I think you might be the victim of some kind of revenge porno scheme," my agent told me. "What?" "I just got a call from an old friend at TMZ. Apparently, somebody is trying to peddle a video of you having sex with him. This person must not know that you're not even sixteen, which means TMZ won't touch this with a bargepole, but somebody out there might...my friend at TMZ and I go back a long way, so he gave me a heads up. Do you have any idea who might be doing this to you?" I was sick to my stomach. "I think so." "Amy, I don't have to tell you what this could do to your career. A big part of your mystique as a fashion model is the question of 'are you a he or are you a she?' If a video of you having sex with another man hits the Internet...." The rest of the conversation was a blur, and I tried to keep myself from falling apart. How could Robert do this to me? How could I try to stop him? If he was wicked enough to set me up like this, how likely was he to respond, no matter how much I begged and pleaded with him? It couldn't be money he was after...just some kind of sick satisfaction from showing the world that he was the stud who fucked the hottest young actress in Hollywood, who happened to be a guy! I was weeping in my bedroom when Andrew stuck his head in the door. "What's up, sis? Mom, Dad and Aunt Esther have all turned in for the night. Why are you crying?" I broke down and told him everything I had learned. I could tell that he was getting madder and madder as he listened, until when I finally finished, he said, "I'm going to help get you out of this." "Andrew, how can you?" "By beating the shit out of him until he gives me that video." "I only wish! He lives in a building with twenty-four hour security." "Tell me everything about the place." *** An hour later, Andrew and I were standing a few doors down from the entrance to Robert's building. "You wait here," he told me. He walked up to the doorman and told him that he was Robert's friend Bruce, from Yale. The blue "Y" on his tee shirt was enough to get him past the door. I stood in the shadows and wondered how he'd ever get Robert to surrender the video, when suddenly I heard a loud crash as a laptop computer hit the sidewalk and smashed into a million pieces. It was followed a few seconds later by an iPhone, which shattered on impact. Andrew emerged from the building a few minutes later. "Your problems are over," he told me as he put his arm around my shoulder and walked me back along the darkened sidewalk. "What happened up there?" "Your friend Robert has a new face." "Did you have to hit him?" "Only once. While he was rolling around on the floor, spitting out his front teeth, I found his bedroom and threw his computer and cellphone out the window." "So I saw! But how can we be sure he doesn't have another copy somewhere else?" "Before I left, I told him that if that porno ever sees the light of day, he'll be guaranteeing his own conviction for statutory rape. That got through to him." I squeezed his bulging biceps. "My hero!" "Anything for my little sis. God, I love being a guy!" Although I should have felt terrible about resorting to violence, at that moment I was very happy to have a big brother. *** Aunt Esther and I were sitting around the breakfast table the next morning when the telephone rang. "Oh dear, that's so awful!" I heard her say. "Is there anything I can do?" When she returned to the table, she was shaking her head. "That was Robert's mother. He was mugged last night!" "Mugged?" "The poor thing. I'm not sure about the details, but evidently a total stranger jumped him when he got back to the apartment, stole his phone and computer and beat him senseless." "That's terrible!" I was grateful for my acting skills. "Is he going to be all right?" "His mother says the left side of his face is stoved in like a Halloween pumpkin on mischief night, and he lost some of his teeth. He's going to require extensive plastic surgery and a lot of dental work." "That's so sad. I wonder who did it?" "The police haven't a clue. Just another unsolved crime in New York." *** A few hours later, I walked down to the Plaza Hotel, and shared a taxi with my parents and brother to Dr. Jacob's office on Park Avenue. My mother and I were both smartly dressed in city skirts, hose and heels, and my father and brother were both sporting blazers and slacks. We were escorted into the same conference room where Andrew and I had first met Dr. Jacobs, and we were soon joined by Dr. Binder, Dr. Jacobs, and a handful of other physicians. After I introduced my mother, Dr. Jacobs fiddled with his bowtie for a few moments before he finally addressed us. "As you know, our long wait for the green light on your surgeries has finally been received. I want to thank both Andrew and Amy for their patience during this lengthy process, as well as their cooperation with all of the lab work and other testing that's been required. In a few days, our operating team will be in position to transplant Andrew's genitalia onto Amy, and vice versa. These procedures will be fairly straightforward, in fact we anticipate far less in the way of complications than is experienced with traditional gender affirmation surgery. For example, Amy's vagina will be fully functional, and the customary - and quite agonizing - process of dilation to mold it into shape will not be necessary. On the other hand, Andrew's penis will also be fully functional, and his testicles will enable him to perform sexually without the need for further testosterone injections. By the same token, Amy's ovaries and uterus will enable her to conceive and give birth, and her body will produce sufficient female hormones to allow us to take her off estrogen once her breasts have finished developing. "The reason I asked your parents to join us - aside from the fact that as a minor, Amy will require their signatures before her operation can proceed - is to discuss the potential downside with all of you, in the very unlikely event that something might go wrong. Our hospital facility is state of the art, and the team gathered around this table has decades of experience in all of the various surgical techniques that will be required. That said, there is always that one percent chance that things will not go according to plan. Should Andrew's body reject his new genitalia, he will not be significantly worse off than any other woman who has elected to have gender affirmation surgery, and in due course the more traditional procedure of creating a substitute penis and scrotum out of skin grafted from his thighs will still be possible. "However, in Amy's case the consequences of a surgical failure are much more problematic. Ordinarily, a workable vagina is created out of penile skin, and labia are fashioned from the remnants of the scrotum. Since those organs will have been transplanted onto Andrew, in the unlikely event that Amy's body rejects her new vagina, we will not be able to create one for her in the usual way." I looked around the room, and saw my parents squirming with discomfort and concern. "So I'll end up looking like a Ken doll?" I asked. Peals of laughter broke the tension. "Well, I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes, you would be left with a nullity between your legs. I'm sorry to be so graphic, but this possible downside to the surgery must be understood and accepted by both you and your parents before we can proceed." There was a long silence around the table. Finally, my father spoke. "Can we speak to our children in private?" he asked. "Yes, of course, we'll leave the room. Let us know when you're ready to resume." We waited until the doctors filed out and closed the door. "Andrew, I'm sure you're one hundred percent committed to going forward." My brother nodded affirmatively. "Amy, it looks like you're the one who faces the greater risk here. Before your mother and I give our consent, are you absolutely certain that this is what you want to do? You can always say no. Please don't feel any pressure if you want to think things over. Your mother and I will back your decision either way." I didn't hesitate. "Dad, I want this operation. I know it's the best thing for me, and I know it's the best thing for Andrew." I reached across the table and squeezed Andrew's hand. "Please let us live out our dreams." *** The actual surgeries are a dim memory. I can remember being prepped and wheeled into a huge operating theatre with Andrew on a table a few yards away. We were each surrounded by a team of physicians and nurses. When my anesthetic was administered, I drifted off into oblivion, and when I regained consciousness, I was lying on a bed in a recovery room, with several tubes running in and out of my arm and groin, and a dull ache where my penis and testicles used to be. I was full of painkillers, but when I opened my eyes, I was able to recognize Dr. Jacobs smiling down at me. "Don't try to speak," he said softly. "Your operation was an unqualified success. Your new womb and vagina are receiving blood normally, with no sign of rejection, all nerve functions have been established, and in a few days we'll be able to remove that catheter so you can urinate like any other woman. Until then, I just want you to relax and regain your strength." "How's Andrew?" I croaked. "Your brother is doing fine. No complications, just some discomfort and pain which is to be expected, but he's already sitting up and anxious to get on with his life. You've given him a great gift, Amy, and received a great gift of your own. Someday, you may want to share your story with the world. But until then, you're just a boy and a girl, as if you'd been born that way, and to the medical journals you'll be known simply as an anonymous brother and sister." As I drifted back to sleep, it occurred to me that being an anonymiss sister had a nice ring to it.... The End