For a Girl by J.T. D'Arelli (best ereader for pdf .txt) 📖

flowers. A slight scalloping of the waistband was the only concession to femininity. But it didn't matter.

They were still... panties.

Before GB, I'd always thought of the term 'panties' as cute, even a little sexy. But now, it seemed a bit condescending. 'Panties' was a word you'd expect a four year old to use. For a grown woman to have her underpants referred to in such a childish fashion somehow made her less adult, more like a little girl. Which made it all the harder for her to be accepted as an equal. I remembered an old episode of 'All In The Family', when Archie Bunker proclaimed "in my household, the money will be earned by the ones who wear the pants in the family, not the panties!"

And now I would have to wear them. Slowly, I reached down to pull them on. My breasts seemed to dangle pendulously all the way to the floor as I bent over. I pulled the underwear up my so smooth legs to my hips and snugly against my female crotch. Oh! Despite the conservative style, just wearing these panties made me feel... girly. I mean, I really didn't know what feeling 'girly' was like, but I definitely didn't feel like a boy. The fabric was so much softer than my male briefs. The elastic on the legbands hugged my butt in a strange way. The underwear seemed to be cut similar to a low rise set of boys' briefs — except for a little higher on the hip. But most remarkable was the feel of the panties pressing between my legs. No bulge of a penis. No adjustments to make — for I had nothing to adjust. The panties made me feel bereft of manhood, the flatness between my legs confirming that all I had was a... vagina.

I keep using the terms vagina and breasts as opposed to pussy, hooters, etc. As a boy, I'd occasionally referred to girls' anatomy with the earthier language. But now, I felt such names were somehow... degrading. I certainly didn't want to have a vagina. But I wanted a cunt even less. The scientific terminology didn't feel quite as embarrassing. I have no choice about being a girl — but I wasn't going to use the harsher appellations that would reduce me to a set of body parts.

Anyway, it did feel a little better to have the panties on — I wanted to cover myself up. I pulled the tank top over my head and actually had to tug it over my breasts. My god, my chest seemed larger with the top on than off! A tight blouse can enhance even a small-breasted woman. For me, my breasts seemed to push my top out so far — and the huge nipples were visible through the ribbed cotton.

I realized then that I would never truly be able to conceal my chest. Oh, I could prevent the direct exposure of skin — but the presence of my breasts would forever be undeniable. For the rest of my life, everywhere I went my breasts would precede me, announcing to the world: "Look everybody — she's a girl!"

Clad about as well as I could be for the moment, I went back to the mirror to take stock. What I saw was a typical teenager, dressed as if she were lounging around the house. I noticed something else — I appeared younger than as a boy. The girl in the mirror looked about 15 years old. And that was also dismaying to me, for the last thing a teenager of either gender wants is to look more youthful. Whether it's girls layering on the makeup or boys struggling to grow a mustache, every teenager seeks to seem older than his/her age. Yet GB had taken a couple of years off my appearance — which made me feel even more vulnerable.

But, god, this girl was cute! She... I... bore a striking resemblance to the actress Michelle Tractenberg — who plays Dawn on 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. We weren't twins — my hair was a little darker and longer and her lips were fuller than mine — but we could have passed for cousins. Our body types were similar as well — slender, full- breasted, with hips that were slightly smaller than average for a girl, but very feminine in terms of curves.

You have to understand I still had a disconnect between what I saw in my reflection and what I felt from my body. Dressed in the simple tank and sweatpants, I looked quite normal — even though my senses were screaming to me that my breasts were Hindenberg-class and my ass wouldn't fit in a movie theater seat. I hoped the adjustment Erin had spoken of wouldn't take too long — I still felt freakish.

The door opened and the nurse led me down the hall to the examining room. It looked just like any other treatment facility with a long table, covered with paper, and cabinets filled with supplies. I also noticed two strange brackets projecting from one end of the table — which almost resembled stirrups.

Uh, oh.

I realized then I was about to undergo a profound initiation into my new girlhood — a gynecological exam. I knew virtually nothing about them, except that most women didn't care for the experience. The nurse remained with me and Dr Turley, still in her white coat, entered the room.

"Okay Jack — I see you've completed the physical transition. I know you are very disoriented and confused right now — I just need to know if you are feeling any pain."

"No," I replied softly. "I do feel very weird, but it doesn't hurt."

"Good. You've probably guessed what is next. We need to verify the full results of GB and we need to make sure there are no medical issues with your new reproductive organs. I've endured a number of these exams — so I know it is intimidating. But as a woman myself, I promise to make this as comfortable as possible. Regular gynecological exams are crucial for women and girls to maintain good health. You've got a more complex body than before and it does need more maintenance."

She spoke in a sober tone, but there was a kind look to her eyes. Then she asked me to undress down to my panties. Slowly I complied. I noticed I was already starting to feel shy about having my breasts exposed, and I was glad there were only females in the room. I just wish I weren't one of them. While I sat on the table, Dr Turley showed me how to perform a self-examination for lumps and cautioned me about the risks of cancer. By the time she was done kneading my chest, I felt rather sore. They certainly were sensitive!

She spoke then. "I have to admit, I'm more than a little jealous — you have a lovely pair of breasts. I know that's not high on your list of priorities, but at least GB gives you an aesthetically pleasing body."

"Problem is, Doctor, we have different standards of aesthetics," I responded.

Then things got very serious. I removed my panties, scooted down to the end of the platform and placed my feet into the stirrups. The nurse draped a blanket over my chest, but I was still nude below the waist.

Never had I experienced a sense of exposure like this. With my legs spread so far apart and nothing between them but a vagina, I felt somehow extra naked — as if I were physically revealing my very soul.

Dr Turley spoke. "Okay, Jack — here we go. I'm going to insert a speculum into your vaginal canal and examine your cervix for abnormalities. You'll feel a pinching effect — I'll try to be very gentle." She then spread jelly on a plastic set of 'spoons' and moved her chair between my legs.

I began to tremble — my whole body was shaking. The nurse patted my hand and spoke reassuring words — it helped a little. Then, I felt a bizarre stretching sensation where my scrotum once was, followed by a feeling of... penetration — into an opening my body never had before. It was so surreal that I almost didn't notice the pain. Almost.

God, I felt so... complicated down there! And very delicate as she probed deeper inside me. The speculum seemed huge — filling me more than I imagined possible. While Dr Turley was examining me, she was calling out observations to the nurse. At one point I heard her say, "Patient's hymen is of normal appearance and dimension. She has no abnormalities of her cervix."

I felt a double whammy. 'Hymen'? That meant I was a virgin. Which made sense in a weird way, since I was a virgin as a boy. I wondered if Erin, who'd lost her virginity as a male, had a hymen when GB finished her.

So I was 'cherry'? Very unsettling to realize I was that anatomically correct as a girl.

Added to that was the strangeness of hearing the feminine pronouns of 'her' and 'she' used to refer to me. I knew it was inevitable — I'd thought of Todd the same way when she had completed her transformation. But to be identified as female in such a casual fashion drove home the dramatic change I'd undergone. It was far more than just physical — I'd entered a whole new world.

Much to my relief, Dr Turley completed the exam. I felt oddly 'open' once the speculum was removed and the excess jelly was uncomfortable. The nurse helped me to clean up — as I was doing so, I experienced just a hint of pleasure as my vulva was gently rubbed. I quickly put it out of my mind — I didn't want to consider my sexuality in any way.

I got dressed again, realizing I was actually grateful to pull up my girl's panties and achieve some modesty at last. Dr Turley reported everything was normal. Then she began a very detailed discussion of the female body, complete with pictures. This included descriptions of various functions, highlighting the obvious need to wipe after urination — which of course had to be done sitting down. Menstruation was also part of the program, as I leaned at age 17 what most girls learned at age 10. Back when I was in grade school, I remember some gym classes segregated by sex, while each watched certain films. The boys had always wondered what the girls' movies were all about — even at that age, femininity was a forbidden mystery to me.

Not any more. And frankly, I could have done without learning about these secrets. Pads, tampons, pantiliners and all the rest seemed intimidating, not to mention awkward. Apparently, I'd still have a 'package' in my underwear for several days a month — just not the one I was used to. Then there were the various infections I'd have to watch for. By the time she was done, I felt overwhelmed, exhausted and vulnerable.

Noting this, Dr. Turley concluded. "Jack, I know you've been through a lot — but you are handling things very well. It may seem that girlhood is very daunting, almost frightening. But I can assure you it will feel normal soon enough. And there are rewards as well. I believe Erin spoke to the class about personal 'experimentation'. Remember our discussion of the clitoris. I'd recommend it for you — it will help you get in tune with your body and you may find being a girl can be quite pleasant."

I had my doubts. I didn't even want to have a vagina — let alone go on some spelunking expedition up inside of it. I preferred to pretend it just wasn't there — which was actually easier to do than you might think. Most of the time, I wasn't even aware of my female organs — though I was acutely aware of the void between my legs. But that was more a result of