How I Became My Sister

I have a twin sister. We are not identical. Although I was born with all of my body parts, she came with a grossly deformed right leg. She eventually learned to crawl and walk and get around and use crutches. People say that I used to help her a lot when I was little. I don't know for sure, but she and I have always been very close.

When we were in fifth grade, a new family moved into our neighborhood. They had a daughter who was our age. She always came to school on crutches and wearing long dresses. My sister, who also used crutches, and I became friends with her, and she showed us that her left foot was missing. It had been lost in a car accident when she was five. For a while, she had been able to use an artificial foot, but she grew out of it and the insurance money ran out so the family couldn't keep buying replacements. She wore long dresses so as not to draw attention to herself. She didn't like to talk about how she didn't have a foot, though eventually it became obvious that if she was on crutches every day, the whole school would know about her injury. She and my sister became best friends, and she was my girlfriend.

The friendship between the girls had a practical side to it. Since each had only one foot, one a right and the other a left, they could share shoes. They weren't the exact same size, since my girlfriend had bigger feet, but my sister could usually wear the off shoe within six months of the time my girlfriend bought a pair. For some sandals and other shoes, the exact size wasn't so important, so they would often buy a new pair together and wear them the same day.

We took as many classes together as we could when we were in junior high and high school. By our senior year, we were already planning to go to a local community college together for two years and study architecture and interior design. We wanted to be together always. I wanted to marry my girlfriend, but I was concerned that if I did, my sister would be left out.

"We need to talk," my sister and her friend said to me after school one day. It was early November, and we had just begun our senior years in high school.

"About what?" I asked, sensing something wrong.

"About us," said my sister.

"Well, we're still going--"

"No, us--not you," said my girlfriend.

"We're...not sure how to tell you this," said my sister.

"He'll understand," said my girlfriend.

I was puzzled. Were they not planning to go to college with me?

"Let me get it out. We're gay. We're lesbians." I don't recall who actually said what, but that's what I remember hearing from the two of them.

I said some things that I can't remember, but I do remember saying this, "But you can't be! You wear dresses all the time." I thought lesbians only wore pants.

"How many gay boys do you know that wear dresses?" my girlfriend asked.

"None--"

"There you are. It doesn't mean anything what you wear!"

"But I don't know any gay boys. I don't hang around with them." The girls should have known that. I only hung around with them.

"I guess you were right about him not understanding," said my girlfriend to my sister.

"It's not that I don't understand," I said. "It's just that I'm afraid now you'll have each other and there won't be any place for me."

"You'll always be a part of us," my sister said. "In fact, there's something else we need to talk about. But not here."

My relationship with my girlfriend cooled off for the next few weeks, though we saw each other every day. My sister and I talked about other stuff--TV shows, video games, songs on the radio that I hated and she loved. My girlfriend came over one Friday about a week after Thanksgiving when our parents were out of town. "You're eighteen now, right?" she asked.

"Our birthday's Monday," I said to her. Her birthday was back in mid-October. I was always a bit surprised she wasn't a year ahead of us in school, but perhaps her handicap had kept her back. We never talked about the accident.

"I want to become a woman on your birthday," she said. Great, now (unless I was mistaken) my lesbian girlfriend wanted me to have sex with her.

"Can't my sister do that?" I blurted out.

"You don't want to?"

"I want to have about ten kids with you," I said, "but I don't think that will ever happen." I was sitting next to my sister on the couch.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I love both of you very much." She put down her crutches and sat on my knee. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her completely onto my lap. My sister put her arm around my shoulders and snuggled close. A moment later, we were all kissing each other. I couldn't believe what was going on, but I didn't care.

We celebrated our birthday at a nice restaurant in town, then told our parents we were going to a movie. Instead, we went out of town to a motel with hourly rates. We paid for four hours.

As much as I would like to, I can't give you all the details of what we did there, since some of them were illegal. Both girls were in long party dresses, but I got to find out how many surprises a girl can put under a floor-length skirt. But I was also about to get one more surprise before the night was done.

"We want another lover," my girlfriend said.

"Another guy--for you sis?" I was confused.

"For us," my girlfriend said.

"I'm not good enough!" I said, sounding stupider by the minute.

"You are the only man I ever want to have sex with," said my girlfriend. "But I want to make love to another woman."

"Besides my sister?" I didn't know whether to be thrilled or angry. Why did she want to cheat on my sister? I looked at my sister, who merely smiled. "Who's coming?" I asked.

"Nobody's coming," one of them said. "Then who is the other woman?" I asked.

"You are," my girlfriend said.

My jaw must have dropped open. They wanted me to be their lesbian lover? How could I? I wasn't even a girl, and I had no plans to have surgery on the spur of the moment. This was getting weirder by the second.

My girlfriend stood up and dropped her crutches to the floor. I reached down to pick them up, but she put out her hands to stop me. "Tonight," she said, "We are going to make you into a woman. By the time you leave here, you will have breasts, a vagina, ovaries, everything--as well as a valid female identity. If you let us, we will make your transition very pleasurable. If you don't, it will very uncomfortable."

What could I say? I had never really been all that interested in becoming a woman. I knew a lot about girls because I grew up so close to my sister, so there wasn't much of a mystery. I liked the clothes both my sister and girlfriend wore, but had never tried them on. Now, I was about to become one of them. I didn't know how to feel.

"How can you make me into a woman?" I finally asked. Neither them were sex-change doctors.

My girlfriend turned off the lights and lit some candles. Finally things were making sense. There would be some drugs involved and I would think I was a woman when they got finished. Well, that sounded kind of kinky, but also kind of fun.

My sister went to the bathroom and came out wearing, not her party dress, but some kind of T-shirt and gothic skirt. I was lying on the bed in my underwear, my head on a pillow, while she was standing at the foot. Suddenly, she was on the bed, standing above my feet. I was confused: How did she hop so far with only one leg to begin with? I must have been seeing things, I thought--a distinct possibility in the dim candlelight.

My girlfriend went to the bathroom next. She came out a minute later wearing what looked like a revealing wedding gown, at least from the waist up. The skirt portion of the gown seemed to be filled with a million petticoats. She floated up onto the bed even more effortlessly than my sister had earlier. She stood above my knees, then gradually floated forward till her skirts covered my head. I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I saw a man's body in underpants get up and walk to the bathroom. I saw my sister lying next to me, and called her name. I then learned that my girlfriend was in my sister's body, I was in my girlfriend's body, and my sister was in my body. The girl's bodies were back in their party dresses. Soon, my male body, with my sister in it, came and lay on top of me. I then experienced something few men ever have experienced--sex as a woman. After a while, my sister and girlfriend exchanged bodies, and my girlfriend enjoyed me this time.

I felt something cover my face again; perhaps it was my sister's hemline. I again lost consciousness, but when I woke up, I was now in my sister's body. It felt a little more familiar than my girlfriend's body, though not having any sensation in my right leg was a bit strange. I then remembered that I had felt some pain where my girlfriend's left foot should have been. Once again my girlfriend and sister took turns entering my body and enjoying themselves with me. I had no idea how they switched bodies with each other or with me, but I wanted to get back into my own male body in the worst way. Sandwiched between them, I again lost consciousness.

I woke up later back in my own body. It felt somehow different--a little smaller than what I'd remembered, but at least all the parts were there. Well, that wasn't quite true. I now had no penis, but breasts and a vagina. The breasts were sore, but I didn't feel anything around my vagina. I went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. I guess I'd have to sit down, no matter what I had to do, from now on.

Feeling myself pee as a girl was the strangest experience. There was nothing quite like it that I had ever experienced. Although it felt sore for a moment, by the time I was finished I was fine. I was naked as I went back to the bedroom but found a party dress and appropriate underwear hanging up in the room's closet. I started to get dressed, putting on the petticoats first, then the bra and panties, with the dress coming last. I put on the knee-highs, socks and tennis shoes last. "Why am I wearing socks and shoes rather than heels?" I asked.

"Because we are," said my sister.

I was glad I didn't have to drive home in high heels. It was strange enough driving as a woman. I picked up my purse and checked my ID. It was for a woman my age and height.

"What will Mom and Dad say about this?" I asked my sister.

"They were enchanted several months ago into thinking you were a girl," she said. "So were most of the people in our school?"

"Most? Not all?" I worried.

"Some of the special ed kids, as well as the bullies, will think you're a guy wearing a dress, but nobody will pay attention to them since all the teachers and most of the other kids see you as a girl already."

"And if one of them gives me trouble anyway?"

"We'll deal with him--or them."

"Or her," I added.

"No, the only girls not enchanted are those in special ed. They'll be confused, but they are a lot of the time anyway."

Although I was changed into a girl now, both my girlfriend and my sister underwent some changes. My sister's right leg grew some bone about halfway down the thigh, so that now she could be fitted with an artificial leg. My girlfriend's left leg grew part of a foot so that she could now walk without crutches. I guess part of their punishment for turning me into a girl against my will, though, was they would never be quite perfect, though I was still happy for both of them.

My first day of school after this found me already dressed when I woke up. It was a long military camouflage dress, with a white blouse underneath. It had a zipper going all the way around at the knee so I could make it shorter. However, as I looked down when I walked I noticed a white slip peeking out from time to time, so I guessed I couldn't shorten it. I also noticed that my blouse seemed kind of long, with the hem tickling my legs from time to time. I found myself wearing boots with the dress. "Who dressed me?" I asked my sister.

She explained that for now, she and my girlfriend would be picking out stuff for me. This outfit would tend to discourage anyone who would try to bully me, she explained.

"Why is the blouse so long?" I asked.

"How long is it?"

"Down to here," I said feeling through the dress for the hem.

"That's not your blouse; that's your slip."

"Hello?" I said. I pulled up my dress to show the slip at my ankles.

"No, that's your long half-slip. You're wearing a shorter full slip under it. If it bothers you, you can wear the full over the half slip--or just take it off entirely."

"No, that's okay," I said. "This will be fine. If I want to shorten my dress today, I'll have to take off the half slip first, right?"

"Yep," she said. "That you will have to do."

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