Krystal
"Crystal, we're on page 390. Would you like to start?"
Krystal, who spelled her name with a "K" even though her teacher always wrote it with a "C," opened her history textbook to the last chapter. No more of this stupid stuff with Mrs. Morten, she thought, as it was almost the end of the school year, her senior year of high school.
"Because of the Vietnam War..." she started to read, her mind numb as she recited the words on the page. Finally, she got to the end of the section: "Reagan's call to 'Tear down this wall!' might be seen as the end of the Cold War." Krystal was sick of Reagan, sick of the Republicans, sick of Mrs. Morten and sick of school. She was also sick of being a "girl."
You wouldn't have known it looking at her, but Krystal was planning to have a sex-change operation. She hated having to wear dresses, for even though she lived in a time when girls and boys could wear jeans, her family would not let her wear denim unless it was a long jean skirt. A couple of other girls in class were dressed similarly, though their skirts were much shorter. Krystal didn't like them any more than their clothes, however, so she didn't really think too much about it.
Once she got a job and moved away from home, Krystal would be able to dress however she liked, and start taking hormones and getting ready to have the surgery to make her a guy. She had already sneaked some herbal hormone treatments that she thought made her voice a bit deeper, though nobody seemed to have noticed. Soon she hoped to have some facial hair. She could wear other clothes to make her breasts disappear, though she would ultimately have to have surgery to remove them and change her plumbing. Before that, though, she could get rid of all these damn dresses she had to wear.
Not only did she have to wear dresses to school, but she had to wear slips underneath. Usually they made her wear full slips. This made it all but impossible for her to change her clothes on the way to school, then change back on the way home. Sometimes she would be able to sneak a pair of shorts under her dress, but it didn't matter if she had on a full slip that she couldn't change out of.
Once she got home, she had to wear casual dresses around the house. These were usually old ones that weren't suitable for school or church, though she usually had to keep her slip on. This meant that she tried not to wear a long slip to school, even if she had on a long dress, because it would limit what she could wear at home. Today, for example, she had managed to get out of the house wearing a slip intended for a miniskirt (as if girls who wore miniskirts ever wore slips underneath--not that Krystal could be bothered with such matters). Still, it was a full slip, so she probably would have to wear an ugly old dress to do her chores at home. She couldn't wait to be out on her own.
The old dress that she found hanging in her closet was not much longer than the minidresses that some of her friends were wearing at school now. It barely covered her slip. Krystal did not like it, but it was something to wear. She hadn't worn it before, but it was comfortable, at least as dresses went.
It was when she went to the bathroom that she realized she had changed--into a boy. She looked down and saw that she had testicles and a penis. It was about five inches long and pinkish brown. She rubbed it and felt it expand. She couldn't believe it, but she was now really a boy. She practiced peeing standing up, and found she liked it. She also noticed that her breasts had shrunken to about the size of a boy's or man's breasts.
She ran to her room to take off her dress and slip and put on her secret boy's underwear. When she did, however, she found out she had changed back into a girl. She put the dress on, but still had her female parts. Reluctantly, she put on the slip, then the dress, and found her "manhood" coming back. This was weird. She tried putting on the boy's underpants, and found that while she had her boy's chest, she had a vagina instead of a penis.
Krystal, who prefers to be called Chris now, wears the dress practically all of the time, though she has to wear a girdle with it to keep from being mistaken for a transvestite. She says you should be careful what you hope for, because you might just get it . . .
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