For a Girl - J.T. D'Arelli (audio ebook reader txt) 📗

growing up. We hardly got phone calls, let alone child support. To be honest, I was never all that upset about it. If that's the kind of man he was, then I didn't need him in my life.

Mom continued. "My biggest mistake was not finishing my degree and having a professional career to build on. I've made a little progress at the office, but I'm basically a glorified assistant. No matter how competent you are, no one takes you seriously unless you can check the right blocks on the proverbial forms. So I don't make a lot of money..."

"I've never complained about that, Mom. I know how hard you work."

"But it does limit things nonetheless. We've never taken a vacation. Your college fund will scarcely cover your textbooks. The new wardrobe I bought you was the biggest splurge we've done in years."

"Mom, I can cut back. Forget the fancy lingerie — 'Jockey for Girls' will do just fine."

She smiled. "No, Stephanie, I can't begin to tell you how thrilled I am that you are starting to enjoy being a young woman. I want to indulge your femininity — it's good for both of us. You'll understand if you ever have a daughter someday."

I pondered that while she continued. If I did have a daughter, I'd be the one giving birth to her!

"But what I'm saying, Stephanie, is that everyone needs to be able to stand on their own feet. That means a good education, which means a good college, which mean good grades. Every parent wants her child to learn from her experience, not to repeat bad patterns. So that's why I always harped on school and so forth. And now that you're female..."

"Why should that matter?"

"Stephanie — as I said, watching you turn into such a lovely girl has been almost a dream come true for me. No, that doesn't mean I wished it upon you — I know you're struggling with all this in ways I'll never understand. I'd change you back into Jack in an instant... if that was what you wanted."

Amazingly, I wondered for a moment if it really was.

"Nevertheless, I'm so excited about the new life you have, and about the woman you're going to be. But you're more... vulnerable, too."

"Yeah, I know, rape and all that."

"Not just physically, Stephanie. There's another danger. It's all too easy for a woman to... submerge her identity with a man. To support him at the cost of herself. To sacrifice for him and to lose her future in the doing. Even in the 21st century, society still implies that role for women. Especially in a rural town like this. Now that you're a girl too, you could get caught in that same trap."

"Do you feel trapped because of me, Mom?"

"Good heavens, no! I wouldn't have missed having you for the world. I just wish I'd had more options — I wish I hadn't given up all my choices. We could have had a much better time of it..."

I thought about what she said. Though she'd never admit it, I could tell she regretted how her life turned out — and I was a big part of that. I didn't doubt her love for me — but I could see she was unhappy in other ways. And what would happen when I did leave for college? What would be left for her? No husband, a dead-end job and an empty bedroom where her son... daughter used to live. I felt a surge of emotion for her and I got up to give her a huge hug.

"Mom, I love you so much. Never think I don't appreciate everything you've done for me. You will always be the... God, this sounds so maudlin, but you will always be the guiding light of my life."

Insert obvious soap opera joke here. But I knew she was touched by what I'd said. Actually, I'd felt that way about her since... forever. It's just that I can share it with her so much more easily — now that I'm a girl.

"Mom, if I turn out to be half the woman you are, I'll count myself fortunate. But having said that, it's also my life to live. I know you have my best interests at heart — but I have to be my own ma... person. I'm asking you to accept this. Running means so much to me. I'd thought I'd lost it forever — but now, there's a chance I can still find some meaning in it. Please, please understand that."

She looked at me closely. "I know how important it is to you, Stephanie. And I'm proud that you're determined to carry on with it. I'll try... but I'm still going to nag you!"

"I can handle it."

Another hug and I headed off to bed.

Lord, what a day! As I washed up, brushed, and changed into my sleepshirt, I though back on it all. Between Arleen, Becky and my Mom, there'd been enough pathos on display to fill up an entire week of 'Oprah'. Compared with all that, dealing with my feminine form was almost a breeze. I was already becoming accustomed to the sway of my breasts, the emptiness between my legs, and so forth. Would a girl's emotions prove more challenging than a girl's body?

Good Night, Sweet Principal

My body had a surprise in store for me, though. I had trouble falling asleep, so I got up to open the window — things were a bit stuffy. Then it happened. I felt a strange tingling in my thighs, and then in my nipples. My breathing and my pulse quickened. I spent a minute trying to calm myself, unsure of what was happening. I leaned against my desk, growing dizzy with sensation. My muscles suddenly weakened, and I eased slowly to the floor — unable to stand.

But I wasn't in pain — far from it. I felt a growing excitement throughout my breasts, now — much more intense than even my 'encounter' with Arleen. My nipples became rock hard and my breath grew ragged. Suddenly, I felt a tremendous surge through my entire body. I gasped at the new yet strangely familiar sensation. All my blood seemed to rush to my groin, and I found myself spreading my legs far apart — my hips thrusting into the air, seeking...

Penetration. Oh, god — I was having a girl's orgasm! Without willing it, my vagina began to soak clear through my panties as I moaned softly, my hands moving to my breasts. Oh! Just touching my nipples doubled the pleasure building between my legs. Oh yes! More... please... more! My thighs parted, then closed, then parted again — seeking friction, contact — anything to fill the emptiness... anything to complete...

I was utterly out of control, unable to stop. Still stroking my breasts, it hit me. Ecstasy. Sheer ecstasy. Shuddering, a wave of delight spread through every fiber of my being as my vagina poured out copious amounts of fluid. I felt strange muscles, deep inside my new sex contract over and over.

Ohhhh! It's so good, so powerful... oh... oh yes... yes... yessss!

Exhausted, the glow still filling me, I tried to catch my breath. Slowly, I managed to regain my feet. I'd practically left a puddle on the floor, which I wiped up — then it was time for fresh panties as I weakly made my way back to bed.

What had just happened to me? I knew the obvious — I'd had my first female climax. But how? I wasn't touching myself before it... happened. And even while I was... coming, I wasn't stimulating myself between my legs. And yet my body reacted with such passion! I felt vulnerable — for I hadn't been able to control it. I'd simply fallen to the floor and just...

It was like last night's wet dream, only I'd been awake for this one. An involuntary orgasm? I'd never heard of such a thing. As a boy, it took a considerable amount of... attention to produce a result. But was it different for girls? Somehow, I doubted it. Everything I'd read in Penthouse, et al implied that women had to work hard for their sexual satisfaction.

And yet I couldn't deny it had happened to me. God, it had felt soooo good! More intense, more all-encompassing than as a boy. The scariest part was that I could tell I'd just skimmed the surface! There was much more to come... so to speak. Rattled, but weary, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up in dry panties — so at least it hadn't happened again during the night. During my shower, I felt both a physical and a mental desire to explore my vagina, to see if I could get a handle on things. Yet I remained intimidated by the new sexual anatomy between my legs, so I resisted. I put on a cream-colored blouse and a paisley silk skirt — about three inches above the knee. A little shorter than before, but after running yesterday's race in that skimpy uniform, I was getting used to showing skin.

Arleen was on the bus and she looked happily at me while I took a seat next to her. We chatted about inconsequential things — the setting was too public to share more personal... matters. But there was no doubting our connection, now. She did look nice in her peasant blouse and skirt combo, but — like yesterday — her pretty body didn't really do very much for me. Instead, I felt... sisterly towards her. The good news was: she seemed to be satisfied with that. We exchanged a quick, but sweet hug as we separated for the first bell.

And so began an uneventful set of classes. Oh, sure — my breasts pressed ungainly against the desk whenever I leaned over. I was a little worried about the flimsiness of my skirt. I had to master the 'hair flip' while writing in my notebook. And I couldn't be too careful when it came to keeping my legs crossed.

But you know what? I didn't care. What had seemed awkward at first was slowly but surely becoming second nature. Erin had talked about this at Girl School. The mind does adjust. And more, it was even a little bit fun. There's something special about being a girl, about wearing pretty clothes and feeling feminine. I had only scratched the surface, so I couldn't say just what it was.

But I kind of liked it.

And those around me could tell — with every passing hour, everyone was treating me exactly as Erin had predicted: as if I'd always been this way. My skirts, my long tresses, my soft voice and all the rest were painting a truly girlish picture. People reacted accordingly. I got fewer comments on the 'don't you miss being a boy' theme. Girls were warming up to me in a purely female way — sharing stories, compliments, gossip. Boys were modifying their behavior too — less cursing when I was around, more playfulness, trying to impress me. It was actually rather sweet.

Part of it had to do with the sensuous nature of my body. I don't mean 'sensuous' as a synonym for sexy — but rather in the classic definition: appealing to the senses. My perception