Date: Tue, 07 Jul 2020 09:27:56 +0000
From: Writer345 <Writer345@protonmail.com>
Subject: Stepsisters

This story is fiction and all characters portrayed in it are fictional
also.  This is really odd if you think about it, for have you ever met
anyone who actually claims to be fictional?  Me neither!

Anyone wishing to download this story for their own use is free to do so
provided that it is done in its entirety and that this disclaimer is
retained.

If you want to post it on another site, please contact me on
writer345@protonmail.com – I usually say "yes please!"

So on with the story which is written in British-English by a dyslexic
writer with mental health problems: need I say more?

*                    *                    *                    *

Stepsisters.

by Writer 345©


Chapter #1.  Prologue, Preamble and Associated Whining.

Okay, don't blame me: blame my Dad: if he hadn't re-married after Mom died
then none of this would have happened.  Or it might have done, but then it
wouldn't have been me that caused it, would it?  I suppose that I'd better
introduce myself, I'm Abigail Yates, which is a name that is sadly in need
of a deed-poll.  I'm a chocolate-brunette (at the moment) and eighteen
years old.  I plan to go to University next autumn, if I pass my exams, but
at the moment I'm working in a shop part-time and in a restaurant the other
part – keeps me out of mischief and provides me with a meagre income.
Oh, and I'm also a gold-star lesbian...  I thought I'd better throw that
one in early as it will make it easier to explain what happened in previous
years and a lot did happen.

Like I said when I began to waffle my way through this sordid and surreal
chain of events: It was all Dad's fault really.  Mom died over thirteen
years ago: I could say that I don't remember her as it would make it easier
to tell my story, but it would be a lie.  I remember Mom and love her
dearly – I always will, I got my looks and skin-tone from her: she was
Indian, by the way.  Dad, on the other hand was a white Brit, as you can
probably deduce from my surname (Yates!  Remember?).  Not that a mixed
marriage is any big deal in the UK these days – its common enough, after
all, and nobody intelligent gives a hoot – we're not Yanks, after all.

No, it's no big deal as far as intelligent people are concerned, but kids
are another matter: being stupid, small-minded, vindictive bullies.  (You
don't agree? – My God!  You've got a short memory...  Just think back to
when you were at school and recall what happened to the non-stereotypical
kids in the small-minded, juvenile and very tribal group that made-up the
population of your school.)  If someone couldn't fit into one of the tribes
then they got bullied!

True?

Damned right it's true!

School was okay when I was younger: little kids don't seem to notice, well,
anything!  But as I got older my 'friends' so did my friends.  Junior
school was okay for the most part, although it became less alright the
older I got.  Then came the local Comprehensive School, where I was
destined to remain for my formative years and the older I got, the more of
an outsider I became.  Eventually some idiot noticed that my Dad was white
and wanted to know if I was adopted.  I tried to explain that Mom was
Indian but the smart-arse couldn't accept this as by now Dad had remarried
a stunning red-head who clearly had no connections with the sub-continent.
Again I tried explaining about Lucy being my stepmum but it was no good as
idiot-brain had already made up his mind that I was a liar and was clearly
trying to hide something nasty.

Then as the lads in my year started to get older: testosterone levels rose
and IQ's fell, you know the sort of thing that happens to males during
puberty – how they seem to go through a sub-human phase during the
transition from child to human being.  As I said, I'm a lesbian, so when
they started taking an interest in girls, I did too.  Sadly, I was one of
the girls who these moronic lads began to get interested in...  Have you
ever noticed that some males are incapable of taking "fuck-off" as an
answer?

Okay, so as pretty girls go, I'm up there with the best of them which meant
that the more persistent/stupid of the boys couldn't understand why their
enthusiastic and amorous approaches were met with a total lack of interest.
Then, with impeccable male logic, they became even more persistent as they
began to see me as a challenge although I soon learned that a well-placed
knee was usually enough to dissuade them.  Now they began to refer to me as
a 'snooty cow'...  Actually this was fine by me because at least they were
no longer trying to inflict their bad-breath and body odour on me.

The daft arsehole that came up with the demented idea that "your school
days are the best days of your life" obviously never went to school
himself!  That mouthy git is probably the single major the reason that the
rate of teenaged suicide is so high.  (God, if this is the best, how the
hell can I face the next sixty years?????  Oh, fantastic!  A bottle of rat
poison – Glug!  Glug!  Glug!)

So here I was, the complete outsider: a liar and an adopted lesbo snooty
cow who thinks she is too good for the rest of us!  Or at least that was
what the rest of them seemed to think.  Well at least I had Dad and Lucy
and a loving home life...

Yes you've guessed it – I already hated every minute of school by the
time that I was thirteen and the bottom fell out of my world because Dad
also died.  I later found out that it was the big "C" and that he'd been
ill for several years but had not told me.  Why?  Mum, well Stepmum that
is, explained that he had been trying to protect me as he had been banking
on a cure right up to the very end.  I wish I'd have know, I probably
wouldn't have been such a hateful little bitch if I had.  Pubescent girls
are just as obnoxious as boys but in different ways so I like to think that
I'd have been nicer to my Dad if I'd have know he was dying – either way
I still feel very guilty about it.

Here I was – thirteen, with both parents dead, living with Lucy, my
stepmum.  She wasn't one of the wicked ones like you see on the television
or read about in fairy stories...  She was actually very kind and loving
and a stunner to look at and given my sky-rocketing hormone levels and the
fact that I was gay: well I am sure that you'll be able to guess the rest
if you can visualize her...

Five foot two, with the face of a loving angel...

A beautiful, come-fuck-me smile...

Long shiny red-gold hair...

Sultry green eyes...

A slim hour-glass figure...

Big, firm, bouncy tits...

A bum that you can stand an ash-tray on...

Long, tapered legs that seem to go on for ever...

Need I go on?  By now you may have come to the tenuous conclusion that I
fancied her like crazy – damned right I did: but I knew better than to
show it!  Lucy, that's (step)Mum, carried on taking care of me just like I
was her very own daughter – I guessed that she had really wanted one of
her own and I'm also sorry that she didn't have a daughter as every girl
needs a sister.  Instead, all she had Robby: an annoying, whining brat of a
son!  As you have guessed, the last thing that I needed at that time was a
smelly brother.

Robby unfortunately was a boy although still immature with his blond hair,
freckles and slightly turned-up nose.  He was also much paler than me –
I'm half-Indian, remember?  All golden-brown skin and raven-black hair.

Robby, bless his little cotton socks, was younger than me.  I don't think
that he went out of his way to be a total dick-head but, well, as a boy, he
came across as one without really trying.  I wasn't going to put up with
it, however.  School gave me all of the shit that I could cope with so I
was damned if I was going to take any more at home.  And besides, although
I couldn't control the massed idiots at the comp, home, where there was
only one, was a different matter...  Robby I should be able to do something
about...

And as you have probably worked out by now: this is exactly what I did and
then some.  You have probably also worked out that I can be devious little
bitch.  Okay, okay, admit it, I AM a devious little bitch but not from
choice: as far as I am concerned it's all a part of survival.  I will
survive as anyone that tries to prevent this usually finds out to their
cost.  School was a battleground which made it all the more necessary that
I should be able to relax when I got home.

I didn't have to fight Lucy and I didn't want to fight Robby which is why I
came to the conclusion that as he wasn't going to beat me he would damned
well better join me.  And to this end I gave him all of the help that I
could – after all, what are big sisters for if it isn't too help their
little brothers?  And help him I did.


Chapter #2.  Getting a Grip, Fighting Back and Some Revelations.

It was because of Robby that I began to get a grip of things – hell if I
couldn't control an annoying little brother, there was no hope for me.  I
was an outsider at school and so I was damned well going to make sure that
I was at the centre of everything at home and the first step was to keep
everything was stable.

I began to call Lucy, 'Mum' just after dad died.  Luckily she was a lovely
lady so it just seemed natural.  Did I resent the fact that Dad had
remarried?  Well this is common enough and a lot of daft, jealous kids do,
but I didn't see Lucy as a rival or a threat.  I just missed my own Mom.
Lucy had been a part of Dad's life and hence my own for some time before
they got married.  But I still didn't call her 'Mom'...  Oh, I wasn't rude
or anything like that: or at least not by the standards of me being a
'Daddy's Little Princess'.  I suppose that I was neutral towards her, for
want of a better word.

But, as I said, things changed when Dad passed away.  My anchor had gone
and I needed an alternative support.  School was shite, so I wasn't going
to get it there: I was the outsider, remember?  The one that didn't fit in,
the one without real friends, the one without a 'tribe'. No!  There was
only home, there was only Lucy, so she became 'Mum' and I became the
'daughter' that she did not have.  Robby?  Well Robby became something to
be tolerated...  I mean he was part of the family so I was stuck with him
and no, I didn't go out of my way to make him look bad: he was a boy so was
an expert on doing that for himself.

At school I had nothing to lose so I worked hard.  If they decided that I
was a 'swat', well then so what?  I'd got no street-cred to lose.  If I had
to go there I was going to make the most of it...  Actually even my status
as an outsider worked to my advantage.  You've all come across cases of
'cyber-bullying' when social media, such as 'Facebook', Twitter' and the
like have been the site of an on-line campaign that is so vicious that the
victim (usually an insecure teenaged girl) commits suicide.  Being an
outsider, what was the point of me having any social media accounts in my
own name?  I didn't have any friends to impress by making shallow posts so
why have a Facebook page?  I wasn't the victim of cyber-bullying simply
because the turds couldn't find me.  Oh, I went on line – but never as
'Abigail Yates'.

Face to face bullying?  That never went beyond name-calling simply because
anything face-to-face resulted in retaliation for I had developed a sharp
tongue and a quick wit and so usually came off better in any exchanges.

As for physical bullying?  Well as I have already said, I had already
worked out that a well-placed knee works wonders when things got up close
and personal.  Forehead-to-nose works well too and also tends to be
followed by a rewarding 'crunch' and a shriek of pain.  The word soon got
around and they began to leave me alone.

As far as the teachers were concerned I was the quiet, polite, hard-working
girl who always did her homework so they tended to believe my side of
things when there was an altercation so I learned how to manipulate them.
The average teacher is very gullible, after all, so my troubles began to
decrease at this point because I had taken the trouble to workout what the
rules of the game actually were.

I had taken a grip of things at school so now it was time to do the same at
home.  The less trouble that I made for Mum(Lucy) the easier life would be
for her and thus it would be for me also.  Life was easier if I helped her
around the house and generally supported her and if the threat of looming
household jobs became too much, I could always plead 'homework' and get out
of anything that I didn't want to do.

 – Damn it!  I'm waffling again.  Get a grip, Abigail!  Get a grip! –

By the time I was fourteen life had become noticeably easier: mom was happy
with me: school had become tolerable.  Yes, I was in control of everything
except for my 'brother' and I was determined that things would definitely
change as far as Robby was concerned.  Okay, I didn't exactly plan things
or at least not in the way that they turned out...  They sort of happened
as things fell into place and I guess that it really started when I was
about thirteen and a half for it was then that I noticed that my best
underwear had gone missing and not only that, but it was the second set
that had gone-walk-about just lately.

I asked mom who reassured me that she had washed them a couple of days
before and as far as she knew they were drying on the rack in the utility
room.

I checked again: no panties, no bra, no fashionable lime-green tights.  I
stopped and thought – either the 'sock-monster' was getting adventurous
or.........

Robby!!!

Why did I automatically suspect him?  Well if you are asking that question
then you are clearly not a teenaged girl who has had a younger brother
inflicted upon her.  Little boys tend to have an almost mystical attraction
for their big sisters' clothing and possessions...  It's all part of being
a little boy.  They need to be really annoying and what better way than to
nose around in other peoples things and remove the odd item that attracts
their magpie-like curiosity?

So, putting on my best grim expression, the one I normally reserved for
school, I made a bee-line for the little git's room.  I flung the door open
and stormed in catching my little brother completely unawares and quite
frankly I was more than a little surprised myself.  Remember, I was
thirteen and a half and very innocent at the time, so the sight of my
twelve year old stepbrother naked except for my tights, panties and bra was
totally unexpected.

We both stood staring at each other, mouths slightly open in shock.  I
guess that we both did pretty good impressions of a pair of goldfish: eyes
bulging, mouths opening and closing: me paler with anger; him red with
embarrassment.

"You...  You can't come in here!"  He shrieked, eyes filling with tears.

I remained silent and watched him try to shrink into the background.  Boys!
After staring at him for a few seconds, I whipped out my mobile phone and
captured a couple of snaps on the grounds that they might conceivably come
in useful at some time in the future.

"Noooo!"  He shouted, but I ignored him.  He was the one that was in the
wrong after all.

I took a good look around at what I imagined was a typical boy's bedroom.
Wardrobe, draw-unit, desk, posters, cluttered shelves with toys and an old
suitcase open on top of the bed.  The latter, quite frankly attracted my
attention as it contained several items of clothing belonging to Mum,
myself and no doubt too a lot of other people – courtesy of their
washing lines.  As I attempted to look inside he grabbed for it and yelled.
"That's private!"

Suddenly I heard movement from downstairs, Mum had noticed the noise.
"What on Earth's going on?"  She called.

"Nothing, Mum."  I answered while Robby froze – a terrified expression
plastered across his face.

Then there were footfalls on the staircase...

The little git was going to get caught – good job too!

Or was it?

My mind raced as the footfalls got closer...

Did I really want him to get caught?

...and closer...

What was in it for me, if he was?  That clinched it!  I looked around and
grabbed his dressing gown from the back of the door and threw it to him,
motioning to him to get down behind the bed even as he struggled into it.

...and closer...

I had just pushed the suitcase off the bed when the door swung open.

"What's going on, Abbie?"  Mum asked sounding rather bemused.

I was pretty good at acting – school, with its resident leper colony of
scummy idiots, had helped me master the necessary skills.  "It's okay,
Mum," I reassured her, "I found Robby's diary on the landing and brought it
in to him."

"Ah!"  Mum said, associating me having his diary with him shouting 'that's
private'.

I didn't dare give her a chance to think about this so I continued.  "I
should have knocked and not barged right in, sorry Robby!"

He looked bemused even as he mumbled.  "'S all right."

Mum sighed.  "Please be more considerate in future, Abbie."

"Yes, Mum, sorry."  I said with as much sincerity as I could fake.

...And then she was gone, closing the door behind her.  I turned to Robby
and gave him a quizzical look, raising one eyebrow for emphasis.

I heard him almost sob with relief because mum hadn't seen the contraband
in his suitcase.  "Thanks, our Abbie" He grinned, standing up behind his
bed.

I folded my arms and stared at him.

"What?"  He asked.

I motioned him to come around my side of the bed and he did so.

"Take the dressing gown off."  I commanded.

"What?  No!"  He almost wailed.

"Take the dressing gown off."  I repeated, only this time I flashed my
phone.

Was it my imagination, or did he go pale?  Either way, the dressing gown
slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor giving my a perfect view of
a sad little boy wearing nothing but my matching pink bra and panties plus
my lime-green tights.

"Hmm!"  I commented as I gazed at him.  "Those tights and undies don't go
together very well, do they?"

He went from pale to red instantly as he mumbled something incoherent.

I gave him a kindly smile.  "You may keep my undies just as long as you
promise not to take any more."  Well I didn't fancy wearing them: not after
his boy-bits had been inside them.  "Okay, little bro, let's take a good
look at you."

He was almost my height and build although clearly not my shape.  I prodded
and poked what he had got – probably a little more forcefully than I
needed to but then I was trying to make a point and the point was that I
was in charge and he damned well shouldn't forget it.

A ghost of an idea began to form...  I was in charge, wasn't I?  And it was
obvious to me that Mum would prefer having two daughters rather than a
daughter and a thing Well I certainly would rather have a sister than
the...  whatever it was that was standing in front of me!  It would be so
much easier if Robby was a girl.  I shrugged.  I was stuck with a
stepbrother, worse luck and there was absolutely nothing that I could do
about it!

Well there wasn't!

There wasn't, was there?

Well, was there?

The idea sort of started to grow: it was one of those silly, impractical
ideas that take root and nag at us.  One of those ideas that keeps pointing
out how good it is by drawing our attention to little things that seem to
prove that it will work.  I gave Robby a lopsided smile and he in turn gave
me hope.

"Robby, if you want to to dress in girl's clothes then at least do it
properly!"  I said as pleasantly as I could pretend to be.  "I'm going to
help you – it will be our little secret."

He did a pretty good impression of a rabbit caught in a car's headlights
and looked kinda cute.  Actually I couldn't work out whether it was shock
or because he couldn't believe his good fortune.  I didn't give a damn
which it was because I was about to take advantage of my unexpected good
luck.  I was the one in charge after all.


Chapter #3.  Get out of the way Machiavelli – I'm coming through!

So here I was with all of these big ideas and no money to pay for them...
Okay, I wanted Robby to pay for everything that I was going to do for him
but this option wasn't very practical as the sad little git had even less
money than I did.  So what did this leave?  How was I going to raise the
necessary funds?

Well there was Lucy – but if you thought that I was going to steal from
her, well, think again!  I love my Mum so I damned well wasn't going to
hurt her.  Besides she was working full-time just to put food on the table:
the house was paid for, thanks to Dad's insurance but there was still very
little money to spare.  However, Mum working meant that she was out of the
house for a couple of hours after we got home from school which could prove
to be very useful.

I had a little pocket money job: I helped out at the local newsagent's shop
on Saturdays and they paid me a few quid a week so that was a start
although not a very big one.

Then it occurred to me, if I could work to raise funds this way then so
could Robby – I would rent him out to do odd jobs: cleaning cars, dog
walking, cutting grass and gardening: jobs like that.  It was all for his
benefit after all, so why shouldn't he earn the money to pay for the things
that he would need?  Even a useless boy like my brother should be good for
a few quid an hour, so money would soon mount up (I hoped).

I decided against taking out an advert for our 'Odd-Job Service'.  Trouble
with adverts was anybody could read them including the local weirdos.  I
knew that we should be careful and besides, if anyone was going to take
advantage of Robby it would be me!  That just left friends and family or
rather Mum's friends and our family, with money in mind, I began asking
around.

Robby was easy to motivate – all I had to do was show him my phone and
he suddenly became very enthusiastic about doing odd jobs...  I had
accumulated quite a portfolio of him wearing my clothes by now and I must
say that he looked quite fetching in them especially as he was getting good
at doing his own make-up, dear of him.  Still, looking pretty or not, he
dreaded Mum finding out, hence his strong work-ethic.

I was pretty sure that Lucy wouldn't go ballistic if she did find out: she
was pretty understanding after all and I was planning on working on her
because she would have to find out sooner or later: preferably at a time of
my choosing after she had been sufficiently prepared, that is.  However it
was in my best interest that Robby didn't know this as I could control him
much more easily if he didn't and ignorance really is bliss.  His ignorance
– my bliss!

Over the next few months my brother got very good at cleaning windows and
cars; gardening and lawn mowing: even at housework, much to my surprise
because the lazy little git never lifted a finger at home.  Motivation
wasn't a problem for besides his morbid dread of my mobile phone, I also
paid him10% of everything that he earned which was just enough to keep him
interested.  It also allowed us to be truthful with Mum when we reassured
her that 'we' were working for pocket money.

The money soon mounted up and not before time as I had been doing some
on-line research into the project.  He seemed to like wearing girls'
clothes so I quite rightly judged him to be a transvestite or at least to
have tendencies in that direction – however, I doubted that he was
actually transgender.  But then he didn't have to be as I only had to make
him think that he was which, let's face it, couldn't be any harder than
convincing Lucy that he was...  Well could it?  I was quite good at
convincing people that black is white so this should be well within my
capabilities.

I even got a couple of books on hypnosis out of the library but that didn't
seem to be reliable enough for my needs.  Hypnosis on the TV is always
shown as swirling spirals and things while the stuff in the book seemed to
be damned hard work and more along the lines of a con-trick: well I was
good at con-tricks so perhaps there was something that I could use?

Now for the main task – feminizing my little brother.  And the more I
found out, the more I realised that I was up against deadlines and biology.
Robby was about to hit puberty which I needed to slow down or stop dead in
its tracks.  The best thing about discovering the problem on-line was that
I found the solution at the same time.  According to everything that I
read, I needed to get him onto something called a 'testosterone blocker' to
stop him turning into one of those semi-human yobs like the ones that had
made my life hell at school.

I looked at several of the sales sites, saw the prices and damned well
nearly fainted!  It was going to cost us over £100 every three months
for these things alone.  And believe me when I say that £100 to a
thirteen year old is an absolute fortune!  I did some more reading on that
site and on others and discovered that Robby was going to need female
hormones too if he ever wanted to grow his own breasts.  Okay, okay!  I'll
rephrase that...  Robby was going to need female hormones if I wanted him
to grow his own breasts.  I looked down at my own and smirked...  They were
small but were coming along nicely.  Shurely Robby would just love to have
a pair of his own...

I did some more research and found that the hormones would cost about the
same as the other stuff.  Was this a conspiracy?

Then there was the matter of the time scales that were involved!  To my
rather simple mind it had seemed that no sooner that I put him on the
medication than he would stop being a boy, grow hips, tits, a bum and a
pussy and so turn into 'Roberta'.  Damnation, I really was wrong about the
time scales, wasn't I?  Very wrong in fact: for we were talking years and
not weeks.

I was wrong about the pussy too: that would need surgery and a lot of messy
cutting and stitching.  Cue massive disappointment, much wailing and a
large amount of gnashing of teeth.  There had to be an easier way...

I stopped and thought then checked my little note book – the one that I
used to keep a note of Robby's odd job bookings an my own earnings at the
Newsagents...  Hmm, the £1,000 year was achievable and judging by what
we had earned so far, we would be quite a bit above that, too.  My mind
raced...  I didn't want to overwork the little git as that might put him
off.  But at least he was enjoying working mainly because he was getting a
lot of perks like praise, ice cream, snacks and drinks.  The relatives
seemed to love him and Mum's friends quite liked him too judging by the
advanced bookings we were getting.

I sat back and was feeling pretty pleased with myself when I heard Mum call
out.  "Abbie!...  Robby!...  Dinner's ready!"

Something clicked as I hurriedly shutdown my computer.  Mum was the key to
all of this – I had successfully conned Robby now I needed to work on
her – big time.

* * * * * * *

Time moved on and spring became summer: Robby, bless him, was working his
little socks off and earning more than enough money to fund his own
medication.  I took him clothes shopping a couple of times but we didn't go
mad and buy masses as I knew just how much his shape was going to change.
Well it certainly would if my own development was anything to go by.

We kept his girl clothes in my wardrobe and dresser to keep Mum in the dark
and his make-up too was in my room.

Buying things was easier as I had asked Mum about the best way for me to do
on-line shopping.  "Well you have your own money, so how about a credit
card?"  She suggested helpfully.

I thought about it and nodded.  "Thanks, Mum."  I frowned and tried to look
as vulnerable as I could.  "But I'm only a minor"

"Oh don't worry, darling, you are very responsible so I'll sign your
application form for you providing that you promise not to run up massive
bills."

I threw my arms around her and gave her a big kiss although I did go all
light-headed when I felt those big bouncy breasts squash against my on
little ones.  "Thanks, Mum," I whooped, "I promise to pay everything off
monthly!"

Well the banks have a damned site more money than me so why should I give
them any of mine?

"What are you buying anyway?"  Mum asked.

I hugged her again.  "Oh mainly things for Robby with his share of the
money we're earning.  I thought that If I kept control of it, he wouldn't
be able to overspend.  You know what little boys are like."

She squeezed me back and I shivered: those tits of hers really were divine
and I longed to fondle them.  "Oh you are such a good daughter!"  She said
out of the blue.  "So kind and thoughtful."

I kissed her cheek although I longed to kiss her somewhere else.  "Thanks
Mum, love you too!"

Early summer was also my birthday – I was fourteen but Robby wouldn't be
thirteen until the autumn.

He had been on the anti-androgens for a shade over three months now and on
the oestrogen tablets for about six weeks.  I did a regular check on him
every few weeks, always just after we got in from school, always in my
bedroom and always while Mum was at work.  Best she not see me examining my
little brother's naked body: she would get the wrong idea and I would have
hell of a job convincing her of my innocent intentions.  I was pretty sure
that I could talk her round but I didn't want to put it to the test.

I took a good look at his body which was all girly and smooth and hairless.
There was just a tiny patch of hair above his willy but it was much less
than I had so I wasn't bothered.  I examined said willy and scrotum: both
were small and sort of cute looking.  It twitched a little bit when I held
it but didn't try to get hard like it had on previous occasions.

"I don't get proper stiffies any more!"  He moaned.

"Good!"  I chuckled.  "Do you still play with it?"

He went red and nodded.  I thought about telling him not too but didn't
have the heart: well I liked playing with what I had so I couldn't expect
him to be any different.

"Right, Robby, I want you to start wearing panties when you are at home."
I suddenly insisted.

He looked as if I had hit him but when I started to wank his soft little
willy he relaxed.  "But what about, Mum?"

I smiled and carried on playing with his bits.  "How often does she take
your trousers down these days?"

"Err..."  He was clearly confused by what I was doing and so actually
thought about the question before asking.  "...Never?"

"Right," I chuckled, "so who's going to know besides us two?"

By now he was dribbling a little pre-cum so I carried on doing what I was
doing.  Suddenly he seemed to bend in the middle and his little willy
spurted weakly a couple of times.  I smiled, so it was still working, just
not very well which was a sign that the tablets were doing their job.

After he had cleaned himself up I rubbed his nipples.  Was it my
imagination or were they a bit puffy?  "Oh!"  He moaned.

"Did that hurt?"  I asked a little concerned.

"No, but it was sort of like an electric shock...  Nice though!"  He
exclaimed.  "Do it again?"

I did and got the same reaction.  I smiled, so this chest was becoming more
sensitive which was definitely a sign that the female hormones were having
an effect there too.

Suddenly I had an idea.  I waited until he had got dressed, including in a
pair of his own powder-blue cotton panties.  Gently I took his arm and
steered him over to my dressing table where I sat him down and applied very
light make-up.  Enough to be noticed but not enough to be glaringly
obvious...  It was time to start working on Mum.

Over dinner that evening I noticed her taking sidelong glances at her son,
but she said nothing immediately.  Eventually, several minutes after
noticing his subtle eye-shadow I saw her frown slightly.

"Robby, are you wearing make-up?"  She asked, sounding more intrigued than
anything.

Robby responded just like any other boy by looking down, blushing and
mumbling something incoherent.

"We were just playing dress-up, Mum."  I said blithely.

She looked a little surprised and said.  "Oh!".  Probably because she
thought that were too old for such games.

Robby nodded but I kicked him under the table before he said anything
stupid.  I knew what he was like when he panicked.

"Suits you!"  Mum chuckled which as the last thing that I expected her to
say.  Then she added.  "I suppose you'll be wanting to grow your hair
long?"

"Yes please!"  He blurted out before I could stop him.  Then it dawned on
me – he'd actually said the right thing.

Lucy continued to surprise me.  "All right."  She said.  "But make sure
that you look after it and keep it tidy!"

This time it was me that was speechless which as you will have gathered,
does not happen very often.


Chapter #4.  Turning Fourteen...  Turning Robby...  Turning Mum...

The months crawled past at the speed that they always do when you are a
daft kid.  Oh, there was progress: I had turned fourteen and Robby was
sprouting tits – small ones, but real pointy tits non-the-less.

Mum had surprised me one Saturday when I was at work: she had done
something about my brother's straggly long hair.  It had grown and I had
tried to help him look after it but Mum went a stage further and took him
to her hairstylist.  When I came home I was surprised to see him sporting a
nice page-boy bob, complete with fringe that framed his girlish face nicely
and made him look quite feminine.

He wouldn't be thirteen until the Autumn and was still in year eight which
is the second year of secondary school.  In the Autumn, when we went back
after the holidays: he would be in year nine and I would be in year ten.
The six weeks summer holiday would be the ideal time for major changes and
with this in mind so I put a lot of effort into messing with his head.  We
wouldn't be going away anywhere during the holidays: we never did as Mum's
office job didn't pay well enough to cover a vacation: I didn't mind as it
meant that I would be able to work on the pair of them.

As far as I remember, it was the beginning of July before Robby was ready
for his party piece.  I'd been bombarding him with ideas about gender for
months now and not only did he fully understand what transgender meant but
he now was beginning to think that he was.  I'd spent months fucking with
his head, showing him videos, getting him to like wearing girl's clothes
and make-up as well as coaching him on act feminine.  At one stage he was
so confused that the poor little git didn't know just what he was and
started to have mood swings and get very tearful.  A bit of research told
me that it was probably the hormones and that this stage would pass.

Mum noticed that he was unhappy and I judged that it was time for a quantum
leap and besides he was a decent 'A' cup and it wouldn't be long before he
really needed a bra.  I decided the the time was right so I did his make-up
just before Mum called us down for dinner and crossed my fingers.

"Mum?"  I said to Lucy part way through the meal.

"Yes, dear?"  She asked without looking up.

"Mum, Robby's got something to say to you."  I added, trying to keep my
voice level for this was make or break.

She looked up and smiled pleasantly just like she always did and I kicked
Robby under the table to let him know that it was time for his party
piece...  I'd been coaching him for a fortnight and he knew exactly what to
say: if only I could get him to say it.

"Is this about you wanting to be a girl, Robby?"  She asked in a kindly,
supportive voice.

I was gob-smacked and my protιgι was almost in shock: in fact we both
stared at her open mouthed.

"I've been waiting for this."  She said.  "Why didn't you speak to me
sooner?"

"We were afraid that you'd be angry, Mum."  I admitted and Robby nodded in
agreement.

"If I was going to get angry, I would have done so when I realised that you
were both spending the money that you were earning on girls clothes and
make-up for him."  She gave us both a knowing smile.  "Instead of getting
angry, I started taking him to get his hair done.  Did you think that I
didn't know what the two of you were up to?"

I'd misjudged her and felt a little silly: though not too silly for I
couldn't have raised the matter with her earlier because Robby just wasn't
ready...  I realised that I'd best keep quiet and besides I fervently hoped
that she didn't know everything that I was up to.

Mum continued.  "Please don't feel guilty, Robby darling, you can't help
being what you are.  I'll ring the doctor tomorrow and try and get an
appointment for us to see her next week sometime.  You'd better come too,
Abigail, this concerns you doesn't it?"

I nodded sheepishly although my mind was churning: Robby had a new script
to learn, and I needed to start writing it!

"Abbie?"  Mum said quietly.

""Yes, Mum?"  I said not knowing quite what to expect.

"Thank you for supporting your Brother through this difficult time."  At
that she pushed her chair back from the table and threw open her arms.
Dinner forgotten, both Robby and I jumped up and scampered over for a
reassuring family hug.

* * * *

The doctor's appointment went so smoothly that it was an anticlimax.  I had
expected all sorts of probing questions with the doctor trying to trip us
all up.  This was just not the case and she seemed to accept everything
that was said at face value.  Robby was word perfect and told the doctor
that he wanted to be a girl and had for as long as he could remember and
although he was wearing-boy clothes I had insisted on female underwear and
light make-up which the doctor noticed.  The doctor was a nice Indian lady
and Mum seemed to be on first-name terms with her.

"Do you wear girl's clothes?"  She had asked in a kindly voice: she smiled
a lot and seemed to be doing her best to put us all at our ease.

"At home in the evenings and weekends."  He had said, although I suppose
that I should stop referring to Robby as a 'He', shouldn't I?

The doctor made a note.  "Is anyone forcing you?"

'She' shook her head.  "My sister has been helping me with clothes and
things."

Mum cut in there.  "Our Abbie is very supportive.  She got bullied a lot at
school when she was younger and so she protects our Robby."

The doctor turned to me and gave me a quizzical look. "Out of interest, why
were you bullied?"

I shrugged.  "I'm half Indian and I'm gay!"  I said as casually as I could.

The doctor muttered something in Hindi and gave me a knowing smile, then
then she nodded and turned back to Robby.  "Before I prescribe anything I'd
just like to listen to your heart: there's nothing in your records but I
like to be sure.  Take off your shirt, please."

Robby nodded and pulled his tee-shirt off over his head and revealed that
he was wearing a bra which the doctor requested that he also remove.  After
he had done so she leaned forward and raised her stethoscope but suddenly
she noticed that his nipples were puffy and that he seemed to have little
tits.

She gently stroked one, frowned slightly and said.  "Hmm."  In an
interested but non-committal way.

She glanced at Mum and then locked eyes with me for several seconds.
"Hmm."  She said all over again and smiled leaving me with the distinct
impression that she knew exactly what was going on.  The Doctor nodded to
me and then turned her attention back to Robby, listening to his heart and
then taking his blood pressure before declaring that all was as it should
be.  She glanced at me again and smiled as she saw me relax.

The doctor moved over to her computer and began to type.  "I'm writing you
a prescription for some hormone tablets that will make life easier for
you."  She said to Robby.  "There are two types, take one of each with your
breakfast every morning.  They'll stop puberty and help you become a girl.
You know about puberty?"

Robby looked scared and nodded.  He knew about puberty because I'd been
using it as a horror story to frighten him with so that he was now
terrified of turning into a big, hairy, smelly, ugly, stupid, sex-mad
monster.

The doctor noticed his negative reaction to the word and took this as
another sign of him being transgender.  She smiled knowingly.  "Right,
could you two wait outside please?  I need a quick word with your Mom."

In the car on the way home Mum gave us the gist of what the doctor had said
and how it would affect us all.  The doctor had told her about transgender
kids having a very high suicide rate if they weren't treated and suggested
that Robby be encouraged to 'go-girl' full-time from now on. She had
written out a sick-note for school and advised that my brother not go back
until after the summer holidays and that he should start the next school
year as a full-time girl.  The doctor wanted to see Robby in a month for an
examination and some blood tests just to make sure that the hormones
weren't causing health problems and added that she would write a referral
to a psychiatrist who would make sure that everything was going okay.  She
reassured Mum that this was just a formality and was to check that Robby's
mental health wasn't deteriorating.  Finally she advised Mum to go to our
school and make sure that the staff knew what was happening so that they
could make adjustments and be supportive.

I quietly breathed a sigh of relief and took a peek at the tablets that we
had collected from the pharmacy that was next-door to the doctors
surgery...  I smiled to myself as they were exactly the same as I had been
buying on the internet, although these were slightly stronger.  We would be
able to save one hell of a lot of money, Robby 'n me!

One down; Mum to go!

* * * * * * *

So besides making sure that my new sister didn't have a relapse, what else
did I do?  Well I carried on coaching her on being a girl although by now
all vestiges of 'consumer resistance' had vanished.  The three of us had
had a family meeting and Mum had pointed out that 'Robert' wasn't exactly a
suitable name for a girl and suggested 'Roberta'.  New-Sister had liked
this and I suggested that we shorten it to 'Bobbie' so that the new-girl
could make a clean break from the old-boy.  Once again new-sister had liked
this so that is how I will refer to her during the rest of this account...
'Robby' is 'Bobbie' from now on.

Mum, assisted by Bobbie and myself, packed all of Robby's boy-clothes,
shoes and most of his old toys into a couple black bin-bags so that they
could be given to some charity or other: well she wouldn't be needed again,
would she?  Lucy then watched open mouthed as Bobbie and I moved all of her
girl-clothes out of my room into hers she then made a list of what exactly
was needed so that she could take her new daughter clothes-shopping the
next day.  She promised to phone the school and explain that there was a
'family-emergency' related to 'Bobbie' and that I was needed at home.  This
way I could accompany them and offer support which suited me very well as I
didn't quite trust my sister out of my sight for obvious reasons.  I still
needed to fuck with her head a little more before I would be satisfied that
she wouldn't open her mouth and say something embarrassing or daft.

A couple of days later, after Mum had gone to see the Head Teacher and
explained exactly what was going on and pointed out that the doctor's note
excused Bobbie from attending for the remainder of the school year while
she began her transition.  The Head had agreed that this was for the best
and promised that both staff and pupils would be informed as to what was
happening so that unpleasant incidents could be prevented and special
arrangements regarding toilets could be set in place.  He had also readily
agreed that I should be given leave of absence too so that I could help
support Bobbie through 'this difficult time'.  Mum, after all, worked
full-time and felt happier if I, as the responsible elder sister, was
present to keep an eye on Bobbie.

Me responsible?  You bet I was, but not in the way Mum thought!  Yes, I was
certainly responsible for her having a daughter instead of a son – a
major improvement in my book!

Now there was Mum herself – the beautiful and sexy Lucy.  I wouldn't be
lying if I said that I masturbated myself to sleep just thinking about her
most nights.  Okay, okay...  I know that that sounds pervie...  Hell it is
pervie and I don't deny it!  But I really did love my Step-Mum and fancied
her like hell – now if that is pervie then I'm a pervert so get over it!

Now Mum wasn't a lesbian: this I was pretty sure about: after all she had
married my Dad and already had Robby when she did.  I don't know anything
about Robby/Bobbie's father as Lucy refuses to talk about him and I won't
press the point.  As I said, Mum wasn't a lesbian but neither did she seem
to show much interest in men and I know that she hadn't been on a single
date since my Dad had died...  In fact it was this latter fact that gave me
a lot of hope.  If she wasn't interested in having another relationship
with a man, could I get her interested in a relationship with a woman?  Or
more specifically: a certain young woman who was very close to her.

This definitely bore thinking about and if I was happy as a lesbian then
obviously she would be too – or so my version of logic reassured me!
This would need careful planning and an awful lot of manipulation so I
decided to give the matter of Mum's sexuality a lot of careful thought.

However while I was thinking about sexuality it suddenly dawned on me that
I hadn't quite finished manipulating my sister...  I hadn't put all of that
time, money and effort in just to have her throw herself away on some
repulsive boy.  When she had been a boy I know full-well that he had liked
girls – the browser history on Robby's computer had been enough to
confirm this.  Well as a caring and responsible older sister, I saw it as
my duty to make sure that Bobbie's sexuality did not change.  If she liked
girls when she was a boy she was damned well going too now that she was a
girl!  In other words, Bobbie was going to be a lesbian: that much I was
sure of!

And if I could successfully guide her in that direction then perhaps I
could guide Mum too: now wouldn't that be something?


Chapter #5.  Tempus Fugit – Fucking Quick, Especially When You Are
Having Fun!

The family seemed to settle down into a sort of weirdly surreal rhythm.  I
was off school – fantastic!  Mum was working full-time and I had my
Saturday job.  Bobbie and me still had a couple of hundred pounds in our
"Odd-Job" account...  I had thought about this – there was no pressing
need to raise new money at the moment so I decided not to send my sister
out to do paid jobs as she had more than enough on her plate at the moment.
She still had to master all of the life-skills that were needed for her to
be a really convincing girl.

Boys have it easy: they're scruffy, lazy and dirty: if they aren't they
stand out and other boys make fun of them!  Girls on the other hand have to
put in a lot of effort just to be, well, girls.  A monthly, or even annual,
bath is more than enough if you are a boy while girls always have to be
clean from head to foot at all times.  And not only clean but immaculately
turned-out too.  It really is hard work.

Why do we do it?  Well the dim, ego-centric males think that it is all for
their benefit.  A few girls, usually the shallower ones, agree with this
but it is a delusion, so dream on, losers, dream on!

So, why do we do it if it's not to attract a man?

Who do we do it for?

Simple.  We do it for ourselves and for each other because we have
self-respect.

Being a girl is like being a member of one huge, worldwide club.  We're
catty towards each other and are vindictive, backstabbing little bitches
but...  Well have you noticed that we always go around in groups making
snide remarks about anyone not in that group?  These groups are not for
self-protection, they are a sign of superiority.

Bobbie was finding out just how much harder it is to be a girl than a boy.
And yes, being a boy must be easy because even boys can manage it!

Hey!  Am I having another rant?  You bet I am because boys really have it
easy – and I can prove this because they never have periods!!!

Mum was at work and I was sitting in the lounge one morning, all
hunched-up, face screwed up a little and insides feeling as if somebody had
tied them in a knot.  Bobbie chose that moment to bounce in: all pretty and
bubbly and on top of the world.

For a split second I really hated the little bitch

"What's wrong, our Abbie?"  She asked, obviously concerned.

"Menstrual cramps."  I muttered.

"Oh!"  She said, but clearly did not understand.  How could she?

I gave her a weak smile, just to reassure her that it wasn't her fault.
"It's my period...  It's always very unpleasant to begin with."

"Oh!"  She said again.  She'd heard of 'periods'.  "Does it hurt then?"

"Of course it fucking hurts!"  I snapped.  She looked hurt so I felt a
little guilty.  "Be thankful that you'll never have periods.  Believe me,
you're better off without them!"

She really surprised me by sitting on the couch next to me, putting her
arms around me and giving me a cuddle and saying.  "I wish there was
something I could do."

"Thanks."  I said, genuinely grateful.  And then it dawned on me – Robby
would never have reacted the way that Bobbie was now: they were two
different people and Mum really needed to told about about this.

I snuggled up to my sister and let her hold me until the worst had passed.

* * * *

The extra-long holiday was great and allowed me to get to know my new
sister while giving me the opportunity to mould her into the girl that I
wanted her to become.  Was I being selfish?  I didn't think so and still
don't because Bobbie was going to be happy being the 'Bobbie' that I
wanted.  After all I had created her and so she was my responsibility.  I
was happy as a lesbian – she would be too.

She was a regular visitor to my bedroom when Mum was at work.  I was
determined to carry on teaching her how to be my kind of girl and that
included checking regularly on her development.  By the middle of August
she had real little breasts that were quite a handful.  I had got her to
remove her 'Hallo Kitty' tee shirt and her bra so that I could check her
progress.  She giggled but did not object and it was obvious that she
enjoyed the attention that 'Big-Sister' was lavishing on her and seemed to
like it when I fondled her.

I stood behind her, reached around and gently cupped both of her breasts.
"How does that feel?"  I asked.

"Nice!"  She purred and jiggled slightly, rubbing her developing arse
against me.

"No soreness or itching?"  I asked, disguising my motives as concern.

"Not now.  There was a couple of months ago but that's passed."  There was
a pause.  "How big will my nipples get?  They look really huge now!"

It was time to take things a stage further so I gently groped her for a
minute or so more before I let go and remove my own blouse and bra.

She turned around slowly and went goggle-eyed when she saw my more mature
breasts with their larger chocolate-coloured nipples.  "Oh, wow!"

Bobbie raise a hand but hesitated and it was obvious that she didn't dare
touch.  I smiled reassuringly, gently seized the hand and pressed it to my
breast.  "How does that feel?"

"Oh, wow!"  She said once again.

I grasped one of her breasts with my free hand and gently fondled it by
squeezing and relaxing my grip several times.

"Ahh-ahhh-ahhhhhh!"  She sighed and then copied my actions so that we stood
there facing each other while we both caressed the other's titties.

"Nice, isn't it?"  I suggested.

"'s."  She replied, clearly enjoying what was happening but becoming almost
speechless because of it.

"Breasts are very sensitive and should be handle gently which is something
that boys don't seem to understand."  I let her get used to intimate
contact for a minute or so before saying.  "Come on, love, lets see how
else you've changed."

Wide-eyed, she blushed slightly and nodded letting go of my tit as she did
so.  I loosed her and undid my skirt, letting it fall to the floor.  In one
fluid movement I wriggled out of my panties and steeped away from them when
they too fell to the floor.  Still blushing, Bobbie copied me but was
unable to tear her eyes away from my more mature body.

"Is that how I'll be when the hormones have done their job?"  She asked
naοvely.

I smiled.  "Something like this, yes, but you'll need an operation to give
you one of these."  I said as I spread my legs and thrust my pelvis forward
to give her a tantalising glimpse of my pussy.

Poor Bobbie...  I probably shouldn't have done that for she was now almost
in shock and just stood there eyes and mouth wide open.

I ran my eyes over her body: she had breasts and her hips were showing
signs of widening although at this stage it was probably just fat that was
redistributing itself to them.  "Verrreee nice!"  I said drawing the word
out for effect.

She blushed again.  "Do you think so?"  She asked in a little-girl voice.

I moved forward.  "I wouldn't say so if I didn't."

Then while she was still partly mesmerised by my " assets" I gathered her
up in my arms and kissed her full on the mouth.  It was a long, drawn-out
kiss, during which her eyes fluttered closed and she seemed to almost melt
in my arms.  Yes, Bobbie, you really are very nice.  I thought as my eyes
too closed.

Then, both a little breathless, we eventually broke the 'clinch' and I took
another look at her particularly at the one part of her anatomy that held
no attraction for a lesbian like me.  I reached down and gently cupped her
willy and balls in my hand.  "It's shrinking, isn't it?"

She nodded.  "A bit.  It used to get hard all of the time, but it doesn't
much any more."

She sounded disappointed so I decided to focus on the positive aspects.
"It would cause an unsightly bulge if it did.  "Girls should be all smooth
down there."

I fondled it experimentally.  "Do you still play with it?"

Bobbie nodded and sounded disappointed when she admitted.  "Sometimes in
bed.  It feels nice but it doesn't squirt very much like it used too."

"That's called an orgasm and it's the way nature rewards us for having
sex."  I said, determined to keep on training her.  "Perhaps you should
concentrate on other parts of your body when you play with yourself.  You
are a girl now and girls don't have willies."

She frowned, clearly at a total loss, so I took her by the hand and led her
up onto my bed where I lay down behind her and hugged her to me so that we
were lying like a couple of spoons.  I thought for a few minutes and
realised that I didn't know much more than my little sister.  Sure, I was a
lesbian but my total experience to date didn't go much beyond a few
sessions of heavy snogging with other girls of the a same sexuality.  I
hugged her to me and asked.  "Right, what other parts of your body are
sensitive and feel nice when you touch them?"

Bobbie giggled endearingly.  "My breasts and nipples!"

"Good girl!  What else?"  I asked encouragingly and gave her a peck on the
cheek.

There was a hesitation.  "Not my bum hole?"

"That's right.  Your arsehole and your taint."  I said as I reached around
and began to rub the palm of my hand in a circle over her areole.

"Ohhh!"  She moaned as I felt her nipple stiffen and press against my hand.

"How does that feel?"  I asked quite unnecessarily.

"Nice...  Don't stop."  She hissed.

I had no intention of stopping: instead I manoeuvred us both into a sitting
position so that I was leaning back against the headboard and she was
sitting between my knees and leaning back against me.  This way I could
give both of her nipples the attention that they deserved.

No sooner had I started than she gasped and jerked, convulsively grabbing
both of my hands with hers.  I carried on for a couple of minutes only
pausing to spit on each palm in turn.

"Oh, ah!  Ah!"  She squealed and began to twitch, her back massaging my
breasts and nipples as she did so.

I won't pretend that I was an expert but an older girl had once done this
to me in a quiet corner of the school playing field one lunchtime when I
was less than Bobbie's age.  I had liked it and so, it turned out, did
Bobbie.  In fact she liked it so much that she shrieked and came there and
then. I looked down and saw that her useless little willy was trying to get
stiff and had dribbled over my duvet cover.  Never mind!  It had been worth
it.

As we were getting dressed I noticed her frown.  "Abbie?  Did you really
mean it about playing with my bum-hole?"

I nodded.  "Uh-hu!"

She carried on frowning.  "But that's dirty!"

I smiled.  "There are a lot of people who say that what we were doing this
afternoon is dirty.  In fact there are still a bunch of sick-nutters who
claim that all sex is dirty!"

"But bum-holes?"  She persisted.

"Well keep yours really clean – wash it every time you go to the toilet
and I'll show you what you can do with it sometime."  I promised knowing
full-well that I hadn't got much of an idea myself.  God, being a kid is so
frustrating because we know fuck-all – no wonder we can't wait to
grow-up!

I glanced at the clock...  "Come on, our Bobbie, its half past four and we
promised Mum that we'd cook the dinner."

As we both galloped down the stairs I knew that I would have to do a lot of
research on the internet if I was going to teach my sister how to play with
that bum-hole of hers.

* * * *

My sister and I had worked out a routine: Mum worked full-time so while we
were both off school we looked after the house and as you may have gathered
from the above, we also did the cooking.  I don't claim to be a half decent
cook, Mum once observed that if I boiled an egg I was quite capable of
burning the water, but Bobbie seemed to be good at it.  In fact I tended to
leave the actual cooking to her and just helped with the preparation and
clearing up afterwards.

It was a fantastic summer, quite unlike anything before or since but all
good things come to an end sooner or later and before you know it, it was
September and time for the dreaded 'back-to-school'.

However, there was more to life than Bobbie with her tits and bum-hole: I
was planning on taking on a second project, remember?  With this in mind I
began to make a few subtle changes.  I had always kept a framed photo of my
real Mom on my dressing table in my room.  Lucy was always telling me that
I looked a lot like her which as true and as I got older, looking at that
photo was a bit like looking in a mirror.  I still love you, Mom, and if
you are looking down on me from somewhere better, then I'm pretty sure that
you'll understand...

Mom's photo went into a draw and a new, bigger one of my Step-Mum, Lucy,
replaced it.  Lucy, after all, was in the here-and now.  I chose the photo
carefully: it was one that I had taken in our garden last summer and in it
she was wearing a light-weight sundress with a nice floral pattern and a
rather low-cut top.  The net result being that her assets were well
displayed.  I also made sure that she knew that I had her photo on my
dressing table.  How?  Simple, I asked her to come into my room to give me
her opinion of the new purple lipstick that I'd bought.

She said that she liked it and that it suited my complexion much better
than brighter colours did.  Then she noticed her picture and almost did a
double take.

"Why did you pick that one?"  She asked slightly bemused.

"A lovely lady in a lovely dress.  What could be better?"  I answered
trying to sound innocent.

She chuckled.  "It makes me look fat."

I shook my head.  "No!  It highlights your beauty – just look at the way
the sun brings out the colour of your hair."

Suddenly she hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  "Oh, our
Abbie...."

With her fantastic tits pressing against me like that I nearly came there
and then.  Now how would I have explained that away?


Chapter #6.  Every Silver Lining Has A Grey Cloud Around It!

I'm not going to say much about Bobbie going back to school in September
other than it went far smoother than we had all thought that it would.  My
sister had been pleasantly surprised by how well things went but the most
surprising aspect had been the reaction of the girls who seemed to welcome
her to her new gender. I think Bobbie was touched by this because it was
the last thing that she had expected.  The girls, who hadn't paid much
attention to her when she had been a boy, gathered around her and together
they had giggled, gossiped and made snide, bitchy comments about the boys.

"The boys were just standing staring and at me!"  My Sister had told me
afterwards.  "But when I stared back most of them sort of looked confused
and turned away.  A couple of lads who had been my besties gave me a nod
and I knew that we would stay friends – sort of!  One of them, Dave,
even came up to me a bit later on and said something like.  'I had no idea!
Why didn't you tell me what you were going through?'"

Bobbie had smiled at this point and added.  "Charlie was the best of all,
though.  He come over when he thought that no one was looking and
said. 'Hey, Bobbie, you're pretty: you make a nice looking girl.'  I
noticed that he had this bulge in his trousers so I'm sure that he meant
it!".

We both giggled as we gossiped and I was relieved that my sister had had a
good day.  I saw no need to tell her that I'd had to do my scary big-sister
act and pin a couple of juvenile dick-heads up against the wall by their
throats while explaining to them that it wasn't healthy to be nasty to my
sister.  Having a reputation can come in very useful in situations like
that.

Mom, however wasn't having it so easy, she hadn't needed to do much around
the house and garden when we had been at home but now that we were back at
school, the housework landed on her like an avalanche.  Oh, we still tried
to do our bit but pressure from homework meant that I, for one wasn't able
to do everything that I would have liked too.  Year Ten, which was the
school year that I was now in, meant the start of my GCSE courses and a
massive homework explosion.

I noticed that Mum was wilting and saw my chance.  It was about ten o'clock
at night and I think that it was our third or fourth day back: Bobbie had
already gone to bed and Mum and I were sharing a pot of tea before we too
called it a night.

I was sitting next to her on the couch and the telly was on but neither of
us were paying it much attention.  I snuggled up to her and she slipped a
maternal arm around my shoulders.  "Sorry we're not doing more, Mum."

She gave me a tired smile and I shuffled even closer to her.  "Don't worry
about that, my darling girl, I am grateful for everything that you and your
sister do around here.  Believe me I am."

She frowned prettily – Mum was a beautiful woman no matter what her
expression – and snorted.  "Listening to some of the other girls in the
office, you two are little angels – their daughters don't seem to do
anything except sit on their fat backsides and expect to be waited on!"

I chuckled.  "Oh, Mummy!"  Then gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"What was that for?"  She asked, slightly bemused as this was the first
time that I'd ever called her 'Mummy'.

"I do love you, Mummy!"  I gushed and an idea starting to form in the
foetid depths of my convoluted mind.

"Love you too, darling."  She said and kissed me on top of my head.

I smiled, slightly disappointed that the kiss wasn't more intimate and less
maternal.  "Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"  She said sounding totally relaxed.

"I've worked it all out...  I know what you really need..."  I said as
dreamily as my acting skills would allow.

"What's that, dear?"  She said, sounding equally dreamy.

I sighed.  "You won't be mad with me?"

"No, dear, I never am."  her voice was dreamy but she also sounded happy
and possibly lonely.

"You need a wife!"  I almost whispered and felt her start with surprise.
Whatever she had expected me to come out with, this obviously wasn't it!

"Abbie!"  She chuckled but as she said it I felt her relax again.  "Yes I
suppose that I do!"

Mentally I heaved a sigh of relief.  So far so good.  "She would be your
soul-mate, care for you, do the housework and love you in the ways that us
kids can't."

It must have been a combination of the warm evening, the soothing
background, music on the telly and her general sleepiness that caused Mum
to relax even more and open up a little.  "Oh, Abbie, you say the sweetest
things."  She purred wistfully.  "A wife – what a lovely idea."

I gently move my hand until my fingers were brushing the inside of her
thigh: her only reaction was to sigh again and look thoughtfully dreamy
which, oddly enough, reminded me of my sweet Bobbie.

Gently I began to massage the soft flesh on the inside of her thigh and as
I did so I spoke to her soul in a dreamy voice. "If I were your wife I'd
make sure that nothing ever happened that could upset you, I'd buy you
little presents, I'd make sure that you never had to lift a finger around
the house and I'd protect you from all of the nasty things out there in the
world."

She twisted slightly, just enough to make eye contact and smiled.  "Sounds
to me that you are applying for the job."

I smiled back as I carried on rubbing her soft skin.  Gradually I let my
mouth fall open slightly hoping to hell that I looked seductive and not
stupid.

Suddenly a change came over Mum, may be it was her hormones or my
pheromones; may be it was her loneliness after years of enforced sexual
abstinence: or maybe it was all of them but her eyes seemed to cloud over
and I heard her moan.  Then her head slowly descended and the world turned
red-gold as her beautiful long hair enveloped me in a scintillating
curtain.  Without really knowing what she was doing she pressed her
wonderfully soft lips to mine, hugging me tightly as she did so.  Needless
to say, the kiss was anything but maternal.

We parted after an eternity that must have lasted at least two minutes and
just sat there, arms around each other; my head resting on her shoulder,
hers against mine: had I died and gone to heaven?  Surely I had...

"Oh, Abbie..."  Mum seemed to sigh.  "...I do love you."

"Oh, Lucy..."  I sighed back.  "...I love you too."

Then we sort of just sat there hugging each other: each lost in her own
thoughts.

* * * *

Time drifted by and I tried to be as good as my word and began to buy Lucy
the little presents that I had mentioned...  A box of her favourite
chocolates; an Indian-style (fake) gold bangle; a cheesy ornament; a bunch
of flowers...  Things like that.  And although the gifts were all part of
my on-going campaign, I got a real kick out of seeing her face light-up
each time.  Bobbie and I did what we could to support her with housework
and stuff but school work cut into what we could do and I still had my
Saturday job that I was going to keep on doing for as long as I possibly
could.

Then there was school and the time that I came close to being suspended,
okay it wasn't my fault: not really although I admit that I should have
been more careful and checked that no one was going to see me when I jumped
this fifteen year old idiot.  By 'no-one' I really mean 'no-teacher' and by
'idiot' I really mean 'boy'.

Everything would have been fine if Mrs 'Nosy-Parker' Johnson hadn't
appeared out of the blue and caught me explaining certain facts of life to
Patrick Walker.  Okay so I had tackled him to the ground and was sitting on
him and banging his head against the floor – it was that sort of
explanation (Well he was bigger than me.).

"Abigail!"  A surprised voice exclaimed.

I looked up and saw Mrs 'Nosy Parker' staring down at me so I smiled
sweetly.  "Yes, Miss?"  I asked without interrupting the head-banging.

"Stop that this instant."  The teacher ordered.

"But Miss, the was making transphobic comments about my sister!"  (Bang!
Bang!  Bang!).

'Nosy Parker' hesitated.  "That's enough!  Get off him now, please."  She
finally squeaked, trying to sound all-authoritarian."

"Yes, Miss!" I said and complied with her instruction, however I did manage
to kneel on Patrick's ribcage as I stood up and it was quite rewarding to
hear the prat yelp.  "He also called me a 'fucking wog'.  Is he allowed to
say things like that?"  I added trying to cloud the issue.

"What?  No!  Of course not!"  Mrs Johnson yelped.  Then she thought for a
few seconds and decided to pass the buck.  "You two had better come with me
so that the Headmaster can sort this out!"

Mum wasn't too pleased to get the letter which claimed that I had
'over-reacted' and injured a fellow student.  "Oh, our Abbie!"  She said
sounding hurt and disappointed.  "Why?"

I tried to explain.  "Well our Bobbie isn't a 'gay-sissy-freak' and I'm not
'a lesbo-wog-bitch'."  I exclaimed, the words coming out in a gabble of
pent-up feeling.

"Oh, our Abbie!"  She said but this time there was a lot of sadness in her
voice.

It was all too much for me and suddenly my control slipped and I burst into
tears – well I was only fourteen, remember?  I just stood there, eyes
clamped shut and sobbing noisily: suddenly I felt maternal arms around me
as Mum gathered me up and hugged me to her where I remained for several
minutes, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

She held me protectively, stroked my hair and whispered that everything was
going to be alright.  "You're under a lot of strain, aren't you?"  She said
quietly when my distress had subsided somewhat.

I nodded but still couldn't say anything.

"Thank you for protecting your sister."  She said quietly.

I nodded and managed to say.  "Somebody has to because school doesn't do
anything."

"We'll see about that!"  She said sharply, in fact rather more sharply than
I remember her sounding at any other time.  She sat down and wrote a long
letter which I was instructed to deliver to the Headmaster the next day.

As they say, 'Every silver lining has a dirty black cloud around it!"  Well
School was certainly my cloud!

* * * *

Time marched (slowly) on and a month or so later it was Bobbie's thirteenth
birthday.  I was sixteen months older than she was which put me in the
school year ahead of her, my birthday, you may recall, is in June.

She was maturing into quite the young lady as her hormone-assisted puberty
changed what once had been a nasty boy-body into a beautiful feminine one.
I spent as much time as I could with her while we were at home although
obviously we were very discrete.  Mum was fairly easy-going as to what us
kids got up too but I am pretty sure that she would have objected to the
degree of intimacy that we were sharing although admittedly we weren't
getting up to much besides touching each other up, heavy-duty snogging and
playing with each others tits and naughty bits.

As time went on, Bobbie was getting more adventurous and was using the
internet to get ideas.  I'd shown her how to cover her tracks and clean-up
her browser history so there wasn't much danger of Mum finding out just
what we were getting up to on line.  Okay, looking back, I'm sure that she
suspected that we were both looking at mucky stuff but she didn't seem too
bothered as she never tried to catch us out..

It was about a week after Bobbie's birthday and we were both up in my room:
I think Mum was out on some work-related thing so we had the whole evening
to amuse our selves.  It was about half past six and we'd had dinner and
cleaned up after us.  Bobbie had made us a pretty good spag-bol so I was
feeling quite full and very relaxed.

"Abbie?"  She purred in that sexy way that she had.  "Can I lick your
pussy?"

I did a double take...  Had I heard her correctly?  "Come again."

"Will you let me lick your pussy?  Only I've seen some ladies doing that in
a few videos and they seemed to like it and it looks fun."  She said

Well I'd been watching videos like that for far longer than she had and
tended to agree with her – it really did look fun, as she put it.
"Sure, if you want too but I'm not sucking your willy!"

"Oh!"  She sounded disappointed but I wouldn't relent: touching it was bad
enough!

I eagerly got rid of my skirt and panties and perched myself on the edge of
my bed with my legs spread wide.  Bobbie knelt between them and peered at
my pussy, with an interested expression on her face.  Suddenly she looked
up at me and grinned.  "It looks a bit wet."

"That's because you are turning me on you little minx!"  I chuckled.

She leaned forward and sniffed at my slit before her tongue poked out and
she gave it an experimental lick.  She hesitated.

"What's it taste like?"  I asked.

"Sort of spicy and nice."  She said and then gave me a good lick which
started near my arsehole and ended up on my little clitty.

I jumped because it felt almost as if I'd been given an electric shock.
"Oh, wow!"  I squealed and grabbed hold of her hair to stop her from
pulling away.  Okay she wasn't very good at it because it was only her
first time.  Hell it was mine too, but I was on the receiving end and I was
the only one out of the pair of us who knew how it felt and it was up to me
to steer her so that she was licking the good bits.

Not very good?  That's unfair because she managed to bring me off in a
couple of minutes...  I don't know just what she had been watching or
reading on line but Bobbie had certainly picked up a few good ideas and had
earned ten out of ten for effort!  I as really glad that Mum was out as my
shriek would have brought her upstairs at a run and god-knows what she
would have said if she had seen Bobbie with her face jammed firmly into my
lady's place!

When I kissed her afterwards I could taste my own juices because they were
plastered around her mouth and all over her lips.  And without any shadow
of a lie I can say that it was a taste that we both enjoyed!  We spent the
next twenty minutes or so just lying on my bed cuddling and touching each
other up and after that orgasm I was feeling relaxed and more than a little
bit adventurous.  Without saying why, I helped her out of her panties and
told her to lie on her belly.  "What you gonna do?"  She asked.

"You'll see.  Now spread your legs."  She did just that and gave me an
unobstructed view of the little pink star that was her arsehole.  I sniffed
it – it smelled clean, so I licked a finger and used it to draw a circle
around her orifice.

"Ooooo!  Nice!"  She exclaimed.

I next gave her inviting little rosebud an experimental lick.  I was
rewarded by seeing her back-end buck upwards in reaction to my efforts.
Well it didn't taste too bad and was the nearest thing that she had to a
pussy so I sort of returned the compliment.  In fact I was a lot more
successful than I anticipated and eventually had her screaming her release
as she came after I worked my tongue in and out countless times.  Once
again she left a little puddle of cum on my duvet cover and once again I
didn't mind.  The evening could be counted as a successful milestone in
both of our development as we had both brought each other off.

We cleared up the mess as best as we could and were downstairs watching the
telly when Mum got back at about half nine although we did stop cuddling
each other when we heard her open the front door an thoughtfully call out.
"Abbie, Bobbie, I'm home."


Chapter #7.  What I have I hold!  (And what I hold I fondle!)

By now you will have realised just how protective I am.  Small wonder as I
had lost Mom, my real one, and then I had lost Dad.  After that I was
damned well sure that I wasn't going to lose anyone else and I was going to
do whatever it takes to protect Mum and our Bobbie.

I'd stuck my neck out at school and would continue to do so...  After Mum's
letter things quietened down and the teachers seemed to be going out of
their way to stamp out the silly behaviour that had been obvious earlier in
the term It didn't end entirely since we are dealing with daft kids and not
with real human beings but it did die down and become very intermittent.
Thanks to my efforts, Bobbie had an easier time than she would have done
otherwise.  But hell, I was responsible for her actually being Bobbie so I
took my role as her protector very seriously.

Even though I was protective, I wasn't jealous.  In fact my sister had
managed to get herself a girlfriend by the end of October which pleased me
no end!  In case you are wondering about my reaction, I'll give you a few
clues...  I was determined that Bobbie was going to be a lesbian when she
grew up, remember?  Okay next question: Which type of person has a
girlfriend...  A straight-girl or a lesbian?  Get it?  Well Bobbie
certainly would!

Linda was a brunette and a little stunner.  She was in the year above my
sister and had a figure that was better than the ones that many older girls
possessed..  The girls started out as BFF's and it had sort of developed
from there.  Good for you, sis, you certainly have fantastic taste in women
and having Linda in your life proved that I had managed to shunt you onto
the right track.

Mum seemed happy about it too and I'm pretty sure that she was aware of
Bobbie's sexuality however she made no objections to the girls having
sleep-overs.  And as the sleep-overs resulted in them sharing the same bed
then she must have had a good idea as to what would happen once the lights
had been turned off..

I didn't need to use my imagination, however as I was Bobbie's confidant
and always got a blow-by-blow account of what she had been up too.  Bobbie
wasn't Linda's first girlfriend and as such was no stranger to juvenile
lesbian antics.  Me?  I kept clear as I didn't want to be accused of
cramping my little sister's style or of trying to steal Linda.  Good luck
to you, kid, I thought, if you learn anything new you're bound to share it
with me!

Actually it was one of Bobbie's sleep-overs at Linda's house that gave me
the sort of opportunity that I'd been hoping for.  My sister was out of the
house from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon: no doubt getting fucked
several times too.  This gave me a clear run at Mum so I talked Mr Smith
into giving me the Saturday off from my job at his Newsagent's Shop so that
I could take Lucy out and pamper her.  Okay, so it was a day-off without
pay, but I didn't care: Mum was going to have a good time and I was going
to have Mum!

I dived into my wardrobe and looked at my more feminine outfits – I
might be a dyke, but I'm still a girl!  I chose a powder-blue dress with a
full three-quarter length skirt that billowed out and emphasised my hips
and waist.  I wore it over a couple of full underskirts and loved the way
that it seemed to exaggerate everything.  I needed a top to go with it so I
chose a low-cut waistcoat in aqua that allowed me to emphasise my tits and
display as much cleavage as could.  I topped it off with a pashmina shawl
that I could wear around my shoulders or over my hair, Kashmiri-style.
Footwear?  Why strappy sandals with three-inch heels, what else?  I wasn't
planning on walking any great distance so they would be ideal!

I finished everything off with full make-up, gold nail polish, gold
eye-shadow, purple lipstick: the full works.  Finally, after packing my
make-up repair kit into a little gold shoulder bag I examined myself in my
wardrobe mirror and wow!  Just who was that sophisticated Indian woman who
as staring back at me?  As a final touch I draped my shawl over the back
half of my head so that it adorned my raven-black hair and gave me an air
of mystery.  I smiled and the woman coyly smiled back.  I half recognised
her.  I gasped...  "Mom?  Oh, Mom..."

I looked away, if I hadn't have done, I would have got all tearful and I
didn't want to ruin my make up, but all the same I turned and headed
downstairs a little sooner than I had intended.

I found Mum waiting for me in the lounge and bobbed her a little curtsy.
She just stood looking at me for twenty or thirty seconds but didn't say
anything: her face unreadable.  Suddenly she smiled and said.  "Excuse me,
Miss, but have you seen my daughter anywhere?"

I smile back.  "She couldn't make it but has asked me if I would like to
take a beautiful woman out for the day.  Will you be my date?"

Mum smiled.  "I would be delighted!"  And at that she offered me her arm
which I slipped mine through.  I then led her out to the waiting taxi and
we driven across town to watch a late matinee performance of a musical at
our local theatre.

Lucy, stylish as ever, was wearing a sophisticated charcoal-grey trouser
suit over a cream silk blouse.  She also had an aqua scarf tied around her
neck which was a close colour-match for my top.  Her make-up was restrained
but served to highlight her femininity while her beautiful long red-gold
hair was swept back and secured behind her neck with a large leather
ornament complete with a matching pin.

Although the cast of the musical was strictly amateur, they were still very
good and performed 'Oklahoma' with enthusiasm and not a little talent.  I
am forced to admit, however, that, good or not, I didn't pay them a
great-deal of attention as I was greatly distracted by the beautiful lady
seated next to me.  Every now and again I caught a whiff of her perfume and
so shuffled sideways in my seat so that I was as close to her as was
possible.  She slipped her arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on
her shoulder and sighed contentedly: were we only mother and daughter?
Well I could dream, couldn't I?

Theatre was followed by dinner at a 'proper' restaurant: I had let Mum book
this part of our date as I knew that she had a lot more experience of
eating out than I had.  Even so, however, I as a little disappointed when
the taxi turned into a rather shabby-looking side-street and pulled up
outside an old anonymous building that had more than a hint of 'factory'
about it.

My disappointment vanished when my date got out first, walked around the
taxi, opened my door and helped me out.  I took her arm and smiling
proudly, she walked me along the footpath towards a large, vaulted oak
door.  There was a large window next to it but it was obscured by the same
sort of frosted pattern that can be found on older pub windows.  Above them
both was a large gold Gothic sign that just said 'Heather's in 3D cast
letters.

I must have frowned because Lucy chuckled.  "It really is a very good
restaurant, darling and I know that you'll feel right at home here.  Trust
me?"

I nodded and she opened the door and motioned that I should step inside:
wide-eyed, I did so and she followed me, her hand resting on my shoulder
both protectively and possessively; suddenly I begun to wonder about just
who had designs upon whom.  We had entered a hallway were we were
confronted by a tall, angular, grey-haired lady.  "Lucy!  What a rare
pleasure!"  She gushed.  "Welcome back to my restaurant.  And who is your
beautiful, er, companion?"

I felt the hand gently squeeze my shoulder.  "Good evening, Heather," Mum
answered, "this is my daughter, Abigail."  But her tone also said, 'Back
off!'

Heather seemed not to notice and smiled warmly.  "A table for two, isn't
it?"

Mum nodded and we were then escorted into the restaurant proper which was
as chic and sophisticated as the street outside was shabby.  I glanced
around as we followed Heather to our table: almost all of the diners were
women...  I took another look.  No!  All of the diners were women although
a few were wearing somewhat mannish attire and two were dressed in
stylishly tailored dinner jackets.  I gasped: had Mum brought me to a
lesbian restaurant?

Several heads turned in our direction as we passed by and we received more
than a few looks of interest.  When Mum greeted several of the women either
with smiles or nods of recognition I began to wonder if I had seriously
misjudged her.

Heather's was a cut above any of the restaurants that I had ever visited
previously: in fact none of the 'greasy-spoon' cafιs that I frequented
were anything like it.  I gazed around feeling rather small and inadequate
until Mum smiled at me.  "Smile!"  She said.  "At least try and look as if
you are enjoying being here."

"I am!"  I gasped.  "But it's so...  Posh!"

"I think that 'sophisticated' is the word that you were searching for."
She said turning over both of the wine glasses that where in the middle of
the artistically arranged table.

"Am I allowed some wine?"  I asked incredulously.

"Well you are fourteen and so they can legally serve you, provided that you
are dining, that is."  Mum said knowingly.  "But I would advise caution: it
wouldn't do for you to get tiddly – not here."

I nodded.  I wanted to favourably impress Mum, not show her up.  "Just a
little for me, then."  I said, trying to sound as sophisticated as my
fellow diners appeared.

Just then an immaculately dressed young woman appeared by our table and
presented us with leather-bound menus.  Mum barely glanced at hers.  "I'll
have the lobster thermidor."  She said quite casually.  "With the chef's
mushroom soup as a starter."

Suddenly both the waitress and Mum were looking at me as I puzzled over the
menu which to my untutored eye seemed to be written in Hebrew or Welsh or
some other strange language.  "I'd recommend the chicken-chasseur," Mum
said conspiratorially, "the chef, here, does rather a good one, and how
about fruit juice as a starter?"

I smiled weakly and nodded.  "That sounds good!"  I said trying to keep the
sound of relief out of my voice.

The waitress made a quick note on her pad and then Mum ordered half a
bottle of a sweet white wine which she thought that I might like.

The food was fantastic and I can truthfully say that I had never previously
tasted anything quite as good...  I knew then that I would have to bring
Bobbie here on a date – when we were both older, that is!

I limited my wine consumption to about half a glass and even that made me a
little light-headed although the food reduced the alcohol's affects so that
I became happy rather than silly.  Mum, not having to drive, disposed of
the rest of the wine quite efficiently: much to my relief.  Part-way
through the meal she had needed to pay a call so excused herself and
vanished in the general direction of the ladies' room.  I glanced around
and then retrieved a vial from my bag and put a couple of drops of
something special into her wine glass.  Luckily no one saw me or if they
did, they didn't say anything.

When Mum reappeared I made a show of topping up her wine glass.  "Please
drink it, Lucy, If you don't I'll only be tempted and I've had quite enough
already!"

She smiled, no doubt thinking that I was quite the responsible young lady,
and drank what was in her glass: luckily the stuff that I had put in was
both odourless and tasteless.  "Where would we be without wine?"  She asked
rhetorically.

After the main course, I suggested a sweet and Mum chose the chocolate
pudding but insisted that we split one between us.  "Us girls need to watch
the calories, don't we?"

Although slightly disappointed, I nodded my agreement: as far as I was
concerned, Mum was a perfect shape just as she was so I didn't want her to
get fat and spoil her figure.

After the bill had been settled, Heather phoned for a taxi and then thanked
us both for coming.  "I hope to see you more often," she said to Mum, "and
please bring this beautiful young lady again: you are both most welcome
here!"

Mum giggled her thanks and then apologised.  "Sorry about that: I guess
that the wine was a little stronger than I remembered – I don't drink
very much and it seems to have gone to my head!"

I had to help her out of the taxi when we got home because by now she had
become decidedly merry.  Once in the house, I sat her down in the lounge
and made us some coffee and while it was brewing I was fervently hoping
that I had not over done it with the Flunitrazipam that I had used to dose
her wine...  I was banking on it reducing her inhibitions, nothing else.  I
knew that a larger dose would cause her to forget everything that happened,
that's why it is used as a date-rape drug. I wanted her to remember
everything...  This was a seduction, after all.

After drinking our coffee I asked giggly-Lucy if she would be kind enough
to come up stairs and help me out of my dress.  A request to which she
readily agreed and seizing her hand I led her unsteadily up to my bedroom,
although I only turned on the tiny bed-side light.

I carefully removed my best pashmina shawl and draped it over a hanger, it
had been Mom's so I was determined to look after it.  I moved across the
room to where Lucy was standing gazing at the large framed photo of
herself.  "Please unzip my dress and help me out of it."  I requested
making my voice as low and husky as I possibly could and at that I turned
to face her.

She reached around me, fumbled for a few seconds and then found the zipper
which she tugged at until it ran down.  Then, slipping a thumb under each
of the shoulder panels, I eased the dress off and allowed it to fall into a
heap around my feet which left me standing inches away from her wearing
just my little black lacy bra and my two gauzy underskirts.  She looked
confused so I reached across and gently stroked her cheek.

Mum moaned but still didn't move so I carefully unbuttoned her jacket and
eased it off her shoulders so that it joined my dress on the floor.
Deliberately I placed both hands on her breasts and gently fondled them,
enjoying the feel of her silk blouse as I did so.  I love breasts and knew
exactly what to do with hers...

Suddenly she moaned, grabbed me and pressed her lips to mine in a kiss that
went on and on.  Her tongue slid into my mouth where it danced with mine
and I slid my fingers into her hair and gently gripped it to control what
she did.  I slipped my other arm around her waist and I felt her relax
completely: her inhibitions were gone and I knew that she would be mine for
as long as I wanted.  The kiss went on.

Eventually we both had to 'come up for air', when this happened I steered
her across the short gap to my bed.  To my relief, she made no objections
and we both lay down side by side and gazed at each other.  I felt a hand
slide up my leg and up under the hem of my underskirt.  It moved on up
until her fingers began rubbing at my pussy through my panties.  I shuffled
into a new position and began to undo the tiny pearl buttons that ran down
the front of her blouse.  As I did so the rubbing became more urgent and
then the blouse fell open giving me real access to her magnificent breasts.

I heard someone sigh...  Someone moan...  It may have been me, it may have
been her but was probably both of us.  I fondled her breasts and licked her
nipples through the silky weave of her bra and was rewarded by seeing them
make little tents in the damp fabric.  I pressed my crotch against her
fingers, while she pulled my head closer to hers and we kissed again.

"Thanks for a wonderful day, Abbie."  She said in a breathy voice.  "Please
make love to me..."


Chapter #8.  The Month After The Morning After The Night Before.

I woke up next morning rather later than I usually do.

Panic!  I can't move.

I Frowned.  What's pressing against my back? Against my bum?  Against my
thighs?

I opened my eyes.  The light is a sort of red-gold colour.........

I sighed contentedly.  Mum!  It's Mum's hair all over my face.  Pretty
hair!  Silky hair!  Red-gold hair!

Mum was holding me, but not just holding – she was hugging me too her
and we were lying like a couple of spoons.  She had her arms around my flat
tummy and was pulling me into hers.  I could feel her breasts pressing
against my back: her breath against my hair and her love flowing over my
body.

I lay as still as I could and just basked in that wonderful love.  "Oh,
Lucy. I do love you!"  I purred quietly.

"I love you too, my darling, Abbie!"  She sighed back: so she was awake.  I
heard her stir and then she asked.  "We did didn't we?"

"We really did!"  I chuckled.  "And it was wonderful!"

She hugged me too her, but more gently than last night.  "I'm sorry,
Abbie," she almost sobbed, "it was so wrong of me to seduce you."

I jiggled so that my bum rubbed against her pussy and was rewarded with a
moan.  "You didn't!"

When she relaxed her grip I rolled over to face her then kissed the end of
her nose.  "Come on, lighten up, Mummy, after a wonderful date and all of
the wine that you drank, you never stood a chance."  I said in my best
'little-girl' voice.  I reached up and found one of her wonderful breasts
with its big, puffy, coral-pink nipple and began to fondle and rub gently.

She moaned and then said.  "Stop that, Abbie."

"No!"  I said, then added.  "Make me!"  I rolled again but this time I took
her with me and ended up straddling her.  She frowned so I kissed her again
and by her reaction I could tell that she didn't really want me to stop.

I broke the kiss then nibbled her ear-lobe.  She sighed but it was almost a
scream of relief: I wasn't going to stop, and she knew it.  I felt her
relax and we made love again but this time without the animal-urgency of
last night's rutting.

"Oh, Abbie..."  She started to say as we both climbed out of bed and
prepared to face the new day.

I sent her off to shower first and she seemed happy enough to follow my
instructions and I hoped it was because she was submissive at heart.  While
she was showering I carefully sorted through our discarded clothes which
still littered the floor from last night: some I put away or folded for
Lucy to move but most went into the laundry bag.

She breezed back in wearing a towelling bathrobe and I used the shower to
to wash away the traces and smears and scents of last nights love-making.
Afterwards, dressed in a similar robe, I joined her in the kitchen where we
nibbled toast, drank tea and chattered about everything except what we had
been up to.

As I did the washing-up afterwards Lucy came up to me and hugged me from
behind, her damp hair cascading over me once more.  "Oh, Abbie, I do love
you..."  She purred, the sentence dying as she nuzzled my neck
affectionately.

I arched my back so that it pressed against her breasts. I was terrified
that I was going to over-do things when I said.  "Love you too, my darling
Lucy."

I heard her sigh and felt her breath wash over my ear as she did so.
Everything had changed since this time yesterday and we both knew it.

"You know what?"  I said.  "Bobbie really should have a bigger room –
that tiny box room is far too small for her now that she is getting
older..."

Lucy chuckled and took up the thread of what I was thinking.  "Yes" she
said, "she needs a bigger room and bed to entertain her girlfriend.  Why
don't you move in with me?  My bedroom is too big for just one and I've got
far more wardrobe space than I need..."  She rubbed her cheek against mine.
"There's a king-sized bed too, remember?"

After we had finished tidying the house, she helped me move my things into
what was now our room: I had mixed feelings.  This had been Mom's and Dad's
room once-upon-a-time; then it had been Dad's and Stepmums: did I have the
right to even be in it?  What would Mom say if she knew what her daughter
would be getting up too all these years after her sudden death?

Lucy saw the look on my face.  "Penny for your thoughts?"

I smiled and carried on staring at the bed.  "I was just thinking about
Mom."

She hugged me comfortingly.  "I often think about her: she was my best
friend – we were at school together – it was me that introduced her
to your dad – I loved her too you know."

"I – I didn't know!"  I felt Lucy shrug.  "You never said."

She kissed me, but maternally this time.  "I didn't want to burden you with
my life history: you've got enough trouble trying to make sense of your
own."

She helped me drag my little dressing table in and we shuffled furniture
around to make room for it.  "Every woman heeds a dressing table of her
own."  Lucy had insisted.  "We'll buy Bobbie now that she won't be able to
use yours."

She found my framed photo of Mom and stood it up on my dressing table where
it had always been, smiling knowingly as she did so.  "I won't take her
place."  She said emphatically.

We finished off by moving Bobbie's stuff into my old room and then went
down stairs where we were just in time to see a car pull-up outside:
Linda's Mother had brought my sister home after her sleep-over.

I opened the front door and let the three of them in.  Did she know that my
sister and her daughter were holding hands?

"She's been a little angel!"  Linda's Mother had gushed.  "She's such a
good influence on my Linda and I hardly knew that either of them were in
the house!"

Lucy smiled at this and then, while the two of them settled down to chat in
our lounge and the two girls ran upstairs with Bobbie's overnight bag I
made us all some coffee.

There was a scream from upstairs.  Whoops!

* * * *

That night, while Mum-Lucy was downstairs relaxing and watching telly,
Bobbie and I were lying side-by-side on what was now her bed.  I'd helped
her re-make it and she had draped her 'My Little Pony' bedspread over it
afterwards even though it was a bit too small as her new bed was Ύ width
– wider than her old one.  I'd promised to get her a new one but
realised that she wasn't listening.

"I licked her pussy and she sucked my willy."  Bobbie said dreamily.

"Oh?"  I said, not really minding that she was changing the subject for
Bobbie's sex-life interested me, even if her willy did not.

"Yes, she took it into her mouth and rolled it around with her tongue.  I
thought that I was going to explode it was such a nice feeling."  She said
struggling to find the right words.

She shuffled closer to me and let me hug her.  "Thank you for giving me
your room.  Are you sure that you'll be okay sharing with Mummy?"

I gave her a throaty chuckle.  "What do you think?"

She pulled away and stared at me...  I could see the little wheels going
around.  "You haven't?"  She said in a surprised voice.

"We have!"  I chuckled.

Her mouth fell open in surprise.  "Abbie!"  She exclaimed before seeming to
lose the power of speech.  At first I thought that she was shocked, but
no...  The little wheels were going round again.  "There's room for a
double bed in here."  She mused.

"Alright.  I'll ask Mum about it but she might not say yes."  I sighed.

Bobbie cuddled up to me.  "Hmmm!"  She purred while slipping her hand up
under my skirt and stroking my pussy.  "I'm sure that you can convince
her!"

She went quiet but carried on rubbing for a minute or so, causing me to
gasp a few times.  "Linda's got a vibrator.  How come we don't have any
toys?"

So that's what she was working towards.  "We don't need any toys to make
you cum, do we?"  I said trying to change the subject...  Christmas was
coming and she didn't know what was wrapped up in the bottom of my wardrobe
– all I knew was that she was going to get the surprise present of her
little life.

Suddenly she jumped off the bed and within seconds had got rid of her
clothes.  She stood there her smooth pale skin catching the light from her
bed-side lamp, the little patch of pubic hair that had sprouted just before
I'd put her on hormones glinting all-silky in the lamp light.  She thrust
one of her small hips to one side and tried to look sexy.  "Prove it!"

I noticed that she had a bow of yellow ribbon tied around her little willy
and smiled because it looked kind of sweet.  "Linda?"  I asked.

Bobbie nodded.  "She said I was to wear it whenever I was with her and told
me that she would check.  It's to remind me not to get hard."  She jiggled
in a way that she thought was seductive.  "Come on, let's do it!"

As I was still rather tired after last night and so I tried to put her off.
"Didn't you get enough from Linda?"

She jumped on top of me and gave me a kiss.

"What if Mum comes in?"  I said, genuinely worried by the prospect.

"Then you will have to talk her around."  She giggled.  "Either that or she
can join us!"

I gasped and realised that she was actually serious.  "Bobbie!"

Her knee forced mine apart and then she pressed it against my pussy causing
me to go "Oooh!" in pleasant surprise.  Without meaning to I ground my
crotch against it.

"Linda does that as well!"  She chortled.

Suddenly, and not before time, my Sister's antics were brought to an end by
Mum calling up stairs.  "Time's running on you two and you've both got
school tomorrow."

* * * *

School: That black-hole that seemed to greedily absorb time and spew-out
depression in its place.  Have I told you just how much I loath it?

I have?

Well I am not surprised!

School swallowed November and the first part of December and soon Christmas
was on the horizon.  Much to my surprise, I had got the end of term without
being suspended.  It was a quiet Christmas as we did not have a whole lot
of relatives.  Oh, there had been enough to keep Robby going when I was
renting him out to do odd-jobs but luckily there were not enough of them to
make a constant nuisance of themselves as seemed to happen in other
families.

My Dad had been an only child so there were no aunts or uncles to descend
upon us from that direction.  As to Mom's relations: well I never met any
of them – I suppose that there must be some, probably in India or
somewhere but with my life-style and sexuality, I doubted that we would
have anything in common.  Lucy however did have a sister although Auntie
Madge, as she is called, had steered clear ever since she learned that
'Robby' was transitioning into 'Bobbie'.  What's wrong with her?  I
wondered.  Doesn't she like girls?

Then I thought – she had married a Jehovah's Witness, so she probably
didn't like anybody or anything.

This left Grandparents and there were a few of these around, although Dad's
parents had moved upcountry somewhere and hadn't figured much in my life
since I was very little – I don't think that they had approved of Mom,
anyway.  I still received a card and a small present at Birthdays and
Christmas but this was the sum-total of their involvement in my life.

Lucy's Mom and Dad were nice and came around for Christmas lunch which Lucy
and I helped Bobbie to cook – well she is the best cook in the house and
as I have said, has a real talent for it!

Grandma and Grandpa descended on us mid-morning and it was present-opening
time.  But why, I wondered, was our Bobbie going red?  Suddenly I
remembered something that I had gift-wrapped for my sister and, well, I
don't go red because of my Indian complexion...  I sort-of darken which I
did.  Lucy noticed and suddenly covered her eyes and groaned.  She knew how
old-fashioned and straight-laced Grandma actually was.

Lucy leaned closer to me and almost whispered.  "Just what have you bought
your Sister?"

"Vibrator!"  I mumbled, then I added brightly.  "I think she bought you one
as well!"

Now it was her turn to go red however she also buried her head in her hands
and I heard her mutter. "Next year's Christmas list is going to be a whole
lot shorter."

Still, it was Christmas, after all and soon colourful wrapping paper was
being torn and discarded.  Lucy cooed over the pashmina shawl that I got
her and said that I shouldn't as they are very expensive.  I threw my arms
around her and told her that she was worth it.

Bobbie got a 'My Little Pony' bedspread for her new double-bed and,
squealing, ran upstairs to put it on.

I was happy and surprised by the black leather boots that Lucy had got for
me.  Although Grandma 'huffed' and remarked that she thought that the heels
were too high for a girl my age.

Grandpa scoffed at this and said that as I was now quite the young lady
they were ideal.

I pulled the boots on and walked up and down the lounge happy, if a little
unsteady, while Grandma sniffed and Grandpa cheered.

Bobbie, who chose this exact moment to come back in, shrieked.  "I want
some!"

"Next year, maybe, darling."  Lucy said , knowing full-well that lines had
to be drawn somewhere.

The other presents were the usual run of the mill Christmas fare: the
silly, the trivial, the downright useful and the totally indispensable,
such as chocolate.

And then Lucy came to the box that was about six inches long: she tore off
the paper that said 'From Bobbie, with all my love!'.  Then as she opened
the end of the box I think that both Lucy and myself stopped breathing for
out slid a sleek vibrator.

"Oh!"  Exclaimed Grandma brightly.  "I've got one of those...  They're very
good but they do eat batteries!"

Suddenly you could have heard a pin drop as Lucy, Bobbie, Grandpa and
myself were suddenly rendered speechless.

"What?"  Asked Grandma as we all stared at her.

I didn't get a vibrator, oh no!  Bobbie bought me a strap-on harness with
interchangeable seven-inch thingies: one slim and one thicker; I didn't
need diagrams to work out just who I was supposed to use them on!  Luckily
Grandma didn't see this present as she was too busy arguing with Grandpa
when I unwrapped it.  Neither did she see the toy that I had bought my
sister – it was a vibrator but with a large round base to stop it from
slipping right up inside her bum-hole!  There was also a large bottle of
lubricant!

Later, much later when Lucy and I were heading for our bedroom we had to
pass Bobbie's bedroom door.  The buzzing hum was almost drowned out by the
little squeals, moans and yelps that told us what she was up too.  Lucy
shrugged and said that at least the spare room was between us and should
shield us from the noise – not that we were planing on getting too sleep
straight away!  I twirled the strap-on harness around my finger...  Well I
wasn't, anyway.


Chapter #9.  Epilogue, Or How We All Lived Happily-Ever-After-ish.

All of that was a good few years ago now: which is a life-time when you are
just a silly kid!  I always thought that I had a rocky start but comparing
it with what some of other kids at school had to put up with, I had things
pretty easy.

My exam results worked out okay and I'm down to start at the Medical School
at Ludlow University in the autumn as, after a bit of encouragement, I
decided to study to be a doctor...  Possibly a psychiatrist I haven't
decided yet.  Lucy said that I'm bright enough and that I have a knack for
getting inside people's heads and for rooting around in there too, so why
not?

There is something else...  Something weird even by my standards...  Now
that I have finished feminizing Bobbie, I have found that the experience
has left me with a tremendous feeling of satisfaction.  I turned a boy into
a girl virtually single handed and enjoyed doing it.  I changed his mind
and I changed his body and got a tremendous kick out of doing it.  An
insignificant boy is now a happy, beautiful and outgoing lesbian woman, so
I did her a favour didn't I?

In fact I really think that I should do it again as everywhere I look I see
males who seem to be crying out for help!

As for Lucy, well we're still an item, she and me and I wouldn't have it
any other way as I do love her and always will.  She still works full-time
but I am determined that after I qualify and get established, she won't
have too: in some ways I am very old fashioned and firmly believe that no
wife of mine should ever have too work!  Okay, this is the opposite of what
I told her all of those years ago, but so what?  She seems happy with the
relationship that we have established.

Bobbie has settled down and is doing well: she's seventeen now and will
have the option of the operation on the NHS next year.  The yellow bow
didn't last long and neither did Linda.  It was soon replaced by a sky-blue
one from Jashumati: an orange one from Sadie and then by one in shocking
pink from Angela: the list goes on for teenaged romance hardly ever lasts,
does it?  Still, she's a pretty girl, my sister and I'm happy for her to
play the field until it's time to settle down.  In the meantime she's got
Lucy and me and we both love her to bits.  We always will and before I
leave for university I am going to give her two pieces of bright green
ribbon which I rather think that will last longer than all of the other
colours that she has warn over the years.  Why two?  Well the second one is
for her hair: where else?  Actually I have a third piece and intend for Mum
to wear that one – it will make a beautiful bow round her long red- gold
hair.


Our relationship might not be very conventional but it suits me and I'm
serious about returning home to them both after I qualify – either that
or I will take them with me when I move on to pastures new.  Lucy is our
Mum and we are her daughters and that is all that counts.

No matter what else happens – I intend for us to remain together so that
we are always there for each other.