I felt for my willie, but only found a “front bottom”! After having a wee–I had to sit down, natch–I cleaned myself up, flushed, rearranged my clothing and opened the door.

‘Auntie Greta! Can you come here a minute. Something terrible has happened!’

At Aunt Greta’s–
Don't Panic!
by Gabi
Chapter 4 of a Continuing Saga…

The revelation that I had not changed back into a boy after my last sojourn to 1944 came as a ghastly shock. I was trying to get my mind round this latest twist of fate when I also noticed that I had an itchy chest. I gently rubbed one of my nipples through my nightie and it immediately stiffened and I could see it sticking out under the flannelette material. I lifted my nightgown right up and had a look.

‘OmyGod, I’m growing boobs!’ I squealed out loud, and pulled my nightie down again as I heard Auntie G returning in answer to my cry for help.

‘Is there something wrong, Gaby?’ she asked.

‘I–I–I th—think I’ve ch-ch-changed into a g—girl.’

‘What d’you mean, “changed into a girl”?’

I decided there was only one way to explain, so, blushing bright crimson, I began to raise my nightie so she could inspect my chest. ‘I—I’m g—g—g—growing b ¬—b—boobs,’ I stammered. ‘L—look!’

‘Did you sleep in your knickers last night?’ she asked when my nightie was half-way up.

‘I didn’t start out wearing them, but there was an air-raid and Mummy–your Mummy, I mean–told me to put them on before going out to the shelter–two pairs of them, I have a white pair underneath.’

‘So you went back to 1944 again. This is becoming rather a habit, young lady.’ As I raised my nightie further I noticed her gaze transferred to my budding breasts with their erect nipples and brown surrounds. She reached out a hand; ‘D’you mind if I touch? Just to check them.’

‘Err, no. It’s okay.’ I had rather enjoyed the sensation when I had touched them myself. She felt gently all round them and frowned.

‘It’s not unknown for boys to start developing breasts,’ she said. ‘In fact it happens quite a lot, but after a little while they just disappear again. I shouldn’t worry, Gabs, it’ll only be temporary.’

‘But that’s not all,’ I replied, easing my knickers down to show her the other change. ‘I have a “front bottom” as well. All my boy-bits have vanished. What am I going to do, Auntie G?’

‘Don’t panic, Gaby,’ she said.

‘Don’t panic! Don’t panic, Mr Mainwaring! Don’t panic!’ I exclaimed, mimicking Lance Corporal Jones in Dad’s Army, and then the full implication of my situation hit me and I burst into tears.

Auntie put her arms round me and drew me into a hug. ‘There, there, poppet. Would it be the end of the world if you were a girl? Didn’t you say to your Mum that you thought you should have been born a girl. Well, now you are.’

‘Yes, but what are people going to say? What’s Tim going to think about having a younger sister instead of a brother? And what about my friends at school? And Mummy? Should I ’phone and tell her?’

‘That might be rather a shock for her, so I think we need to break it to her gently,’ replied Auntie G. ‘We don’t want to give her a heart attack, do we?’

‘No,’ I replied quietly, remembering that Uncle George had died of a heart attack, and the thought of losing Mummy brought more tears to my eyes.

‘Well, then, I suggest you get dressed and I will put on my thinking cap and formulate some sort of plan so we can break it to Mummy gently.’

‘Okay, Auntie. What should I wear? I don’t think I want to wear your old school uniform again today. I s’pose I could wear jeans and a tee-shirt–girls do, after all, don’t they? What about undies?’

‘We’ll need to go shopping for some, pet, but if you wear the white “liners” as knickers, they aren’t so very different from what girls wear nowadays.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ I replied. ‘But I guess I’m gonna find out,’ I added with a giggle. ‘Should I wear what Mummy calls my “tidy” jeans?’

‘Yes, poppet. Girls going shopping always like to look smart, and the jeans I repaired for you are just a wee bit tatty looking.’

‘You mean after I tore them climbing trees?’ I replied. ‘Okay, Will we be going on your BMW?’

‘Would you like to?’

‘Yes, but what about bringing our shopping home?’

‘We’ll see. Get dressed now and I’ll go and start getting brekky ready.’

‘Should I have a shower?’ I asked.

‘I don’t think so since you had a bath last night; unless you want one. You can’t have got very dirty while you were asleep.’

‘But I did have to go out to the shelter–’

‘You didn’t fall in a puddle or anything when crossing the garden, did you? I’ll go and sort out brekky for us.’

‘Not as far as I can remember,’ I replied to Auntie’s retreating back and headed towards the bathroom.

I washed and got dressed; The white knickers–well briefs really–were comfortable, not unlike my usual Y-Fronts–except they had no fly for a willie to poke through. I selected an Oasis tee-shirt that Mummy had bought me, which I hardly ever wore because I felt it was a bit girlie, but what the hell, if I was a girl now it was ideal, and I did like it. I got out my best jeans–a pair of Levis–and pulled them on; I was surprised to find them tight around my bum and loose at the waist; strange, because Mum had only bought them just before I came to stay with Auntie Greta. I looked at myself in the long mirror inside the wardrobe door. I looked very much a girl in tight jeans, with a decidedly flat front where there had been a bulge previously. Finally, I unravelled my plaits, brushed my hair, put it into a ponytail with an elastic band, and headed downstairs to breakfast.

Auntie G looked up as I entered the kitchen. She was at the cooker, grilling bacon; she turned round when she heard me come in. ‘You look nice, Gaby,’ she said. ‘I like the ponytail and that Oasis tee-shirt is perfect for a girl like you–very suitable. Is it new?’

‘Mummy bought it for me in the summer, but I haven’t worn it much. I thought it was too girlie for me. But that doesn’t seem to matter now,’ I added looking down at my chest and noticing the two bumps showing rather too prominently for my liking. I could feel myself blushing–it was so strange to have a new body and I suddenly felt very shy.

Auntie must have sensed my feelings because she gave me a hug, saying, ‘Don’t worry, sweetie. I know you must be feeling very strange just now, but I’m sure you’ll soon adjust and it’ll be just like you were a girl all along.’

‘Well, I s’pose I was really a girl all along, inside at least,’ I replied quietly. ‘It was just that I didn’t have the right body.’ Auntie gave me another squeeze and I felt a bit better. ‘I just worry what Mummy’s going to think.’

‘I’m sure she won’t worry at all, sweetheart, since I happen to know that when you were in her tummy she was hoping you were going to be a girl. Now help yourself to cereal and we’ll have brekky, as I think we have a few things to do today.’

‘Okay, Auntie,’ I replied, sitting at the kitchen table and helping myself to cornflakes.

‘Shall I pour your tea?’ Auntie asked.

‘ ’Splease,’ I replied, when I had swallowed my first mouthful of cornflakes. As I ate, more questions were crowding into my mind. Between mouthfuls I asked, ‘And what about Tim? What will he think about having a sister instead of a brother?’

‘He’ll be surprised at first, but I’m sure he’ll get used to it quite quickly when he learns how nice it is to have a sister. Now eat up, your egg’s nearly ready and you know you hate it when the yoke goes hard.’

As I continued my breakfast, thoughts were churning round and around in my head, and most of them concerned school, which started in just over a week. Would I have to get a girl’s uniform? What would my old school mates have to say? I was almost distracted from enjoying my fried egg with two rashers of bacon, a slice of Devonshire Hogs’ Pudding and Auntie’s home-made hash brown potatoes.

After around of toast and marmalade and a second mug of tea, I helped Auntie clear the table and load up the dishwasher then went upstairs to make my bed. That done I went to the loo. While I was enthroned I heard the front door-bell ring followed by Auntie’s footsteps as she went to open the door. There was a brief conversation, but I couldn’t make out any words or even recognise the voices because they were too soft.

‘Gaby, can you come down and meet someone,’ I heard Auntie calling up to me as I left the bathroom.

‘Coming, Auntie,’ I replied and set off downstairs. There were voices in the sitting room, so I entered.

‘Hello, Gabrielle, my darling,’ said a voice I knew and loved. ‘How’s my new daughter?’

‘Mummy! How did you know?’ I squealed and threw myself at her, hugging her with all my strength and bursting into tears.

‘Don’t cry, darling; there’s no need to be upset. Auntie G gave me a tinkle and told me about what had happened; I couldn’t believe what she said, so I just had to come and see you with my own eyes,’ Mummy said, kissing my cheek.

‘I’m n—n—not upset,’ I sobbed. ‘I’m just soooo h—h—haaaa—py to see you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you for ages ’cause of Tim’s bubonic plague, and you not wanting me to catch it. Who’s looking after him?’

‘You remember Sheila Tate, who worked with me at the General Hospital? She’s keeping an eye on him until I get back. And it’s not bubonic plague, sweetheart,’ she giggled, ‘it’s scarlet fever and I had that when I was a little girl, so I’m immune to the germs. It’s only if you come home and see Tim that you might catch it. Now let me look at you?’ She held me at arm’s length. ‘Well, I must say, you're looking very pretty; I like the ponytail, but I can see we’ll have to buy you a bra or two and a whole new wardrobe.’

‘A bra?’ I queried. ‘Do I need a bra?’

‘Yes, darling, it will be much more comfortable for you. And we’ll have to take you to see the doctor and I’ll have to tell the school and find out what they’re going to do with you. But first of all, I want you to come upstairs with me so I can look at you properly.’ She gave me a hug and we went out to the hall.

‘Have you told Tim?’ I asked as we went upstairs.

‘Told Tim what?’

‘About me changing into a girl–’

‘Not yet, darling. I found it hard to believe when Auntie ’phoned and I wondered if she had been drinking!’

‘I find it hard to believe too, Mummy; and I promise you Auntie hasn’t touched a drop all the time I’ve been staying with her.’

‘I know, love. That was my little joke.’

‘Oh,’ I replied as we went into my bedroom. Mummy sat on the bed and patted it next to her for me to sit beside her,

‘Now, darling, tell me how you feel. When we spoke on the ’phone yesterday you said that when you were wearing girls’ clothes it felt right.’

‘Yes, Mummy. I don’t know why; it just feels that they’re the clothes I ought to be wearing.’

‘Yet you’re wearing your boy jeans today. I must say they look a bit tighter than I remember from when I last saw you wearing them. You can’t have grown that much in two weeks.’

‘It was when I put them on this morning, Mummy. They don’t fit right; they’re too loose at the waist and rather tight round my bum.’

‘Stand up, Gaby and show me.’ I lifted up my tee-shirt to show how loose they were at the waist. She stuck one of her fingers in the waist band to check. ‘Yes, at least a couple of inches to big at the waistband. Turn round so I can see the back.’ I did so. ‘My goodness, they are tight on you, poppet. Your hips are wider and your waist is narrower, and you’re growing breasts. That means you now have a girl’s shape. If we are going shopping for clothes for you today, I’ll need to take your measurements. I’ll go and get a tape measure from your Aunt while you undress so I can measure you.’

While she was gone I wriggled out of my jeans, but left my tee and knickers on. I felt very shy about my new body and wasn’t sure if I even wanted Mummy to see it.

‘Slip off your top,’ Mummy said when she returned wielding Auntie’s tape measure. I blushed. ‘It’s all right, honey, I know what’s there; remember I’m a girl too and I know how I felt about my body at your age.’ She kissed me and as she lifted my tee-shirt, I raised my arms so she could slip it off over my head. Standing there in just a pair of white cotton briefs I felt very exposed and immediately folded my arms across my chest to hide my mini-boobs. She gently unfolded my arms and placed them by my side.

‘You've got the beginnings of a very good figure. Where did you get those knickers?’ she asked.

‘They were Auntie G’s. She called them “linings”, and they were hers when she was a girl. I had to put them on last night when we had the air-raid. Auntie’s mum told me to put them on and a pair of baggy navy-blue ones on top.’ I noticed Mummy’s eyes widen in astonishment.

‘Was it a bad raid?’

‘Doodlebug–you know, a flying bomb. I was very frightened and nearly wet myself when it crashed so close to us, but I didn’t.’ I giggled and then grinned at her. ‘I can’t understand why I had to wear two pairs.’

‘When Auntie was your age, most schoolgirls wore two pairs of knickers. The liners would be changed every day for hygiene reasons, so the bloomers on top could last for several days before they needed washing. Even when I was a girl, twenty years ago several of my school chums wore linings under their school knickers.’ She reached a hand towards my chest. ‘Do you mind if I touch your breasts?’

‘That’s okay. You’re my mum, after all, and you used to be a nurse, too.’

‘Yes, a gynaecological nurse,’ she replied, gently touching one of my nipples which reacted immediately, growing stiff and erect and I felt a tingly sensation that was rather nice. ‘Is it sensitive?’ she asked.

‘Very.’

‘Okay. Let’s get your measurements and then you can get dressed again and we can go shopping. You must have your own undies for a start and you’ll need several complete new outfits.’

‘Skirts and dresses and things?’

‘Yes, darling, and girl’s jeans, and some shorts, jammies, socks and tights and shoes–’

‘–Golly, as much as that?’

‘Yes, poppet. Now, I’ve brought one of the skirts Kate left behind when she stayed with us earlier in the summer. You’re the same age so it should fit okay and it will be easier for you to try things on if you’re wearing a skirt.’ (Kate is my girl cousin who lives in Scotland; she is somewhat scatterbrained and is always losing things. She often spends a week with us during the school holidays, or Tim and I go and stay with her in Dunoon, especially in the summer so we can visit the Cowal Highland Games.)

‘I s’pose so,’ I replied. ‘I’ve never thought about that before but it sure makes sense. What shoes should I wear. I’ve got trainers, sandals and my school shoes here. And what should I do about socks? I haven’t any girls’ socks.’

‘I think sandals would be best with the skirt I’ve brought and it’s warm enough to go without socks, but I did get a pair of tights for you from the corner shop on the way here. I expect you’ll be expected to wear either tights or white knee-socks for school.’

My mind was in a whirl–a girlie whirl–as I thought about all this new information Mummy was feeding me. I was vaguely aware of Mummy saying something as my thoughts zoomed round and round my brain.

‘Gaby! Did you hear what I just said?’ Mummy asked loudly, bringing me back to consciousness.

‘Yes, about tights and knee-socks for school,’ I replied.

“I thought you were away with your own little world, that was at least two minutes ago,’ Mummy informed me. ‘I’ve been downstairs to get Kate’s skirt in the meantime.’

‘Sorry, it’s just all so confusing.’

‘For me too, darling. Now would you just slip your panties off so I can check you down below. I just want to make sure everything is all right down there before we go to see Doctor MacNeish.’

‘It’s strange having a front-bottom,’ I said.

‘It’s called a vagina, darling.’

‘I know, but I didn’t like to say it; is sounds a bit rude somehow.’

‘Well, I reckon that at 11 you’re old enough to use the right word. After all you’ve called your willie a penis for over a year now.’

‘Yes,’ I whispered, blushing furiously. ‘I’m glad it’s disappeared.’

‘Will you lie on the bed, sweetie?’ I obeyed. ‘Now spread your legs and raise your knees while I take a quick look: I won’t hurt you, I promise.’ Once again I obeyed and felt very exposed and vulnerable. ‘It’s not the most comfortable position, but now you’re a girl you’ll find that it's something we have to go through from to time if we're to keep healthy down there.’

I felt her fingers gently parting the lips of my vagina while she had a look. I thought how lucky I was that my mum was a gynaecological nurse so she could do it and not some stranger.

‘Is everything all right down there?’ I asked anxiously.

‘Perfect, honey. You have everything a girl should have. We’ll have to let Dr MacNeish have a look, but she’s very gentle; I know from personal experience. Now get dressed and we’ll head for the shops and buy you some nice threads.’

‘Threads?’

‘Clothes.’

‘Oh–’

Twenty minutes later we were in the car heading for “town”, as we called the town centre where all the best shops were. It was a lovely sunny September morning and I was enjoying the freedom and airiness of wearing a skirt. My legs felt so much freer. The skirt Kate had left behind was tartan–MacDonald tartan because that was her surname–with pleats all round, reaching to about two inches above my knees. She had also left a denim miniskirt behind but I felt it was a bit short until I was more used to wearing skirts. I’m not sure that my Oasis tee was ideal to go with Kate’s skirt, but the creamy-pink colour didn’t clash with the tartan.

‘If we go to Marks and Sparks first, we can get your undies there, and they have some nice things for girls too. And we could look in Next, they have lovely things, if a bit on the pricy side, and we ought to look in Debenhams or John Lewis to enquire about school uniform.’

‘Are we going to buy that today too?’ I asked in my state of bewilderment.

‘No, love,’ came the reply, ‘but it seems wise to see what you’re likely to need. Once we’ve seen Dr MacNeish, I’ll ring Miss Morgan so we can find out about school. I’m thinking it’s lucky you were christened Gabriel. We only need to add L-E to the end to girlify it.’ Miss Morgan was the headmistress of my school–Tuckton–the same one Auntie G went to.

We parked the car in the multi-story and headed straight for John Lewis which was closer to where we had parked than Marks and Spencers and the “Junior Miss” department. Previously it was somewhere I had seen as we passed through to reach another department, with me feeling embarrassed and looking to neither right nor left! How different I felt now–I just knew I belonged. Mummy picked out two packs of five pairs of knickers, one all white and the other in pastel shades, pink, blue, lilac, yellow and cream, and then started looking at bras. There was a sales assistant nearby so Mummy called her over.

‘Yes, madam,’ the sales girl said.

‘My daughter needs a bra. Have you any suggestions?’

‘Is it her first one? Do you know her size?’

‘Yes, 32A. Something quite plain that will do for school.’ Several that were deemed suitable were selected and I was taken to a changing cubicle so Mummy could check for fit. Eventually she decided on a style and bought three for me, and I kept one on. I must say I felt much more comfortable and not so self-conscious as my nipples were no longer poking out under my tee-shirt. Mummy also bought me socks, tights and some nightwear and then we went to look at shoes. After settling on three pairs we were beginning to droop and feel in need of refreshment so we went to the restaurant for a cup of coffee and a cake. I had a very gooey chocolate éclair and I only just managed not to squirt cream down my front. After that went to look at school uniforms, but didn’t buy anything this time as we didn’t know what was going to happen about school yet.

By the time we headed back to Auntie’s it was nearly mid-day and Mummy wanted to phone the doctor before she went off on her rounds. She also phoned her old nursing colleague who was looking after Tim while she was with me, to find out how he was.

Dr MacNeish said she would see me at five o’clock that afternoon. Luckily she had had a cancellation.

 © 2008 Gabi Bunton All Rights Reserved

---

To be continued…

Comments gratefully received