Fiction by Jenny Dean
© 2012 All rights reserved
PART THREE
Things settled down, thanks to my saint of a mother. How she managed with a spoiled brat and an orphan child from another country, I’ll never know. But she did.
She took him to a specialist in the Houston Medical Center to learn more about his gender identity conflict. After several tests, the doctor determined that Andre had the genetic make-up of both male and female, with a definite leaning toward the female side. That surprised no one and explained his looks and mannerisms.
The specialist had been recommended by our family doctor as the best in his field, an expert in research and treatment for gender dysfunction. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything at that time for Andre, but prescribe suitable hormones and counseling. He suggested monitoring and periodic testing until Andre got closer to puberty, and then he would recommend a surgeon who specialized in gender reassignment. In Andre’s case, determining the problem early was a plus. He shouldn’t have any problems transitioning to the female gender both physically and mentally. In the meantime, he should live as a girl, including a name change.
Andre became Andrea. The name suited him/her just fine. Within a few months even I had no trouble referring to him as her. It was still hard calling her my sister, though. But, in time, I accepted her.
She was a shy girl. I wasn’t. We were both curious as all children are and it led to some mutual exploration - some show-and-touch on the sly. Of course I was the one who instigated it. Mother was either totally unaware or approved of what we were doing since it led to bonding and most of all - to peace in the household. We’d both told Mom that we were having bad dreams and wanted to sleep together. She said we could try it for a while. With all the giggling and hushed conversations going on, now that I think about it, I’m sure she knew. She had to have known!
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The first time we played naughty was quite an adventure! We were dressed for bed in cute little nylon baby doll gowns and matching bloomers. They were identical, except for color. Mother kissed us both goodnight and closed the door. We looked at one another and gave a suppressed giggle, listening to her footsteps as she walked to her room.
It was agreed that I could look at her and touch wherever I wanted and then, she could look at me and touch wherever she wanted - while naked, of course. The first revelation for me was her breasts. They were almost as big as mine and well formed, definitely a girl’s breasts. Probably due, in part, to the hormones the doctor was giving her.
I enjoyed her reaction to my touching. She had trouble keeping still, especially when I played with her nipples. Perhaps I was going a little further than agreed, but leave it to me to test the boundaries. There was no doubt she liked it. Then, after kissing both nipples one last time, I moved my gaze downward.
She’d kept her bloomers on. There was a little bump in them. Not much, but definitely there. She reluctantly pulled them down, with a look of shame on her face saying, “I just hate it. It’s a boy’s thing and I’m a girl.” I just had to touch it. It was so small and strange looking. It felt funny too. She didn’t move but I could tell she wanted that part to be over. I was fascinated, of course. She was on the verge of tears I could tell, so I said, “Ok, your turn,” and pulled my gown and bloomers off and lay back with my arms above my head.
She quickly pulled her bloomers back on and then, almost hesitatingly, reached to touch my breasts. She seemed fascinated by them and said, “Oh Mandy, they are so beautiful,” as she touched and caressed them. She loved my nipples, noticing them become harder and darker when she squeezed them gently. Then she one-upped me by gently sucking. I liked it too; this was fun!
After one last kiss and a soft squeeze of each breast, she looked intently at my mound. Then she touched it, feeling the softness of the outer lips of my vagina, then slowly glided a finger between them, spreading, looking, exploring, discovering. I didn’t rush her. This was feeling good! Finally she said, “Beautiful Mandy, I want to look just like you, with my own vagina. The doctor says someday I shall have one. I’ll be happy then.” It had never occurred to me that having a vagina would make anyone happy. But apparently it meant happiness to Andrea.
She put her gown back on but, of course, naughty Mandy decided to sleep nude. Andrea’s eyes showed alarm but I assured her no one would ever know. Even if Rosa, our nanny, found out, she wouldn’t tell. We were quiet for a moment and then started giggling uncontrollably. We went to sleep happy, but feeling very naughty. I learned years later that Rosa was Mom’s spy!
Mother started letting us bathe together. We were, after all, sisters.
As time passed and without realizing it, I was learning some valuable lessons in life. I became aware of my Mother’s selfless love and patience with me. Of course, it had been there all along. I just hadn’t noticed it. I also observed how she loved and cared for Andrea; encouraging her, comforting her, always positive and supportive - being there for her during the times she was depressed. The wait to become a “real girl” wasn’t easy for her. Mom loved her too, and I lost nothing as a result. It all led to tolerance; truly a blessing for me. I’d had practically none before Mother brought that beautiful little boy from France home.
Mom eventually moved Andrea to the room next to mine. It had an adjoining door, which suited us both. There was a lock on both sides that we never used, but we always knocked before entering when it was closed.
We were fifteen when the special team of doctors, surgeons and psychologists declared Andrea ready for the surgery, the final step that would change her physically to a female. The best surgeon available for gender reassignment, aided by his expert staff, would construct her vagina. In Andrea’s mind, this would make her a “real girl.” Of course, my mother and I already accepted her as a “real” girl.
After the operation, the doctor came to the waiting room with a smile on his face and Said, “Everything went just fine, no surprises or problems.” Constructing the vagina was made easier because she had a perfect pelvis for it. He said she would be able live as a female in all respects except bearing children. I’d never thought of that, but it didn’t matter to me and I hoped it wouldn’t to Andrea. At her request, I didn’t see her naked again until after her last monthly exam almost a year later.