Chimera 46: Cameron

Chimera 46

I have always had 'The Dreams'.

Even back when I was in grade school, I remember dreaming about them. Even then, the dreams were familiar. The Dreams never scared me, but they did make me nervous when I did have them. Mostly because of the 'doctor's office' vibe they gave me.

The dreams were always the same. I would wake up and have the feeling that someone else was in my bedroom with me (hypnopompic state). Then I would wake up in a dimly lit space, laying on a soft, flat surface (like a medical bed). I would not be able to move (like sleep paralysis).

(Okay, sorry about all the medical terms, but it's how I cope with my condition. I label it and classify it, which helps me understand and realize that I am still somewhat human.)

When I would look around the new room, I could see medical-looking equipment that were attached to the smooth ceiling. The equipment would activate and hover over different areas of my body. And yes, I still had on my pajamas. No, there was never any pain. And why would anyone think they would need to 'probe' anyone? Sounds like some guy's sexual fantasy to me.

The only times I ever felt them touch me, I would wake up with a small red spot that would fade away over a couple of hours. That mostly happened on my arm or hand, lower leg, or foot. You know someplace I could easily explain away any marks.

As I got older, I even looked forward to 'The Dreams'. They seemed kind of fun sometimes; better than the normal, weird dreams I had.

Around the time I was thirteen, I was a bit surprised when the scanner started hovering over my lower belly. For the life of me, I could not figure out why they would want to look there.

There was never anything sexual about the dreams, they were like a doctor's visit, only better because I hated doctors.

(Now before I continue, I just want to clarify, why I hate doctors, and always have.)

For as long as I can remember, I have been poked and prodded. In the end, they diagnosed me with 46,XX/46,XY chimerism.

When mom and I moved to a new town because mom got a new job, I begged her not to make us go to any more doctors. She agreed, and I have not been back to one since I was seven, except to get shots and the normal stuff they do to kids. No more doctors looking into my 'condition'.

So, what is my condition? What is 46,XX/46,XY chimerism?

It is a genetic condition. For some reason, I have two full sets of genetic DNA, one XX, and the other XY.

Some say it's because I am a failed twin, (I am my own brother and sister), the DNA being merged together. What they do know is that two of mom's eggs were fertilized by different sperm, one XX and the other XY. After that, it's all speculation as to how it all gets merged together. But they do know it happens in the first few hours after fertilization.

Now, before puberty, I presented as a normal male boy with all the normal boy parts. All my life, I have always thought of myself as male.

But six months before my fourteenth birthday, I started growing breasts. I mean it's normal for some boys to get slightly larger breasts, especially if their estrogen levels are out of balance. There were even a few dreams where they scanned my chest, but for the most part, I never even noticed the changes until the day I started spotting.

I had never really thought about that opening just behind my testicles in front of my anus. I never bothered it because it never bothered me. It was just there like any other part of me.

That first day I found the spots in my underwear, I was scared. On the second day, I just used toilet paper stuffed in my underwear to keep it from staining them. Then it was gone.

The following month the spotting came back. Not knowing anything about all that, I had to ask my mother. She thought it was strange that I was asking about girls and menstrual spotting, but I came up with the excuse that I had heard two girls talking about it in school. She explained it all to me, even telling me how girls would clean themselves and how they would wear pads to catch the menstrual blood. That night, I found a small box of pads in my room.

The following month is when I started having bad cramping, and heavy flow days. That week, I had another dream, and they scanned my lower tummy. Ever since then, I have been quite regular and have only ever had light cramping, if anything. I did sometimes get some PMS symptoms, not all the time, but when I did, it was mostly just minor symptoms a few days before my flow started.

As for the emotional PMS symptoms, I never could tell if I had any of them. I mean with my normally extremely high anxiety and constant depression, how was I to know? All of the other symptoms listed fit me to some degree all the time, so I couldn't tell if I had symptoms, or not.

The only symptom I knew that I definitely had (and still have) was the crying spells. Normally, I could keep the tears in check until I am alone, but the day or two before my flow started, I would have to avoid all emotionally charged situations, or the tears would just start flowing. It was not like I could control it or anything, and it did not matter if I was happy, angry, or sad, the tears just started.

After I started getting my menstrual cycle regularly, I also started noticing all the other things happening to my body. Especially how quickly my breasts were growing. But with a quick internet search, I found out all I needed to know about binding, and with the loose sweatshirts or hoodies, no one ever noticed my breasts.

By the time I was eighteen, I had grown into my male body, as well. My voice had dropped, and I had started growing facial hair, as well as body hair. (Chest hair around tits is not attractive.)

But I was also having a lot of trouble hiding all my feminine parts with clothing. My hips had widened and rounded, and my hip bones now protruded forward on either side of my flat belly. My waist had narrowed considerably, giving me a pleasant feminine hourglass shape. My now-C-cup-sized breasts were next to impossible to entirely conceal, even with binding and loose clothing.

Now spending all of my high school years afraid of someone 'finding out' about my secret, really did a number on my head. I never dated, never even changed when there was even a chance of someone being around. I would even wear my gym clothes under my school clothes so I would not have to change at school.

My extremely high anxiety and constant depression did not help with my mood swings and social awkwardness. I even suffered from eating disorders and body dysmorphia on top of all my social anxiety disorders.

Although I am not sure I actually had body dysmorphia, in the clinical sense, because my body really was disfigured, it was not like it was all just 'in my head.'

So, you are all probably wondering what that eighteen-year-old, half-boy, half-girl, and totally crazy person looked like.

Standing in front of a mirror, you would have seen a person that is five-foot-six-inches tall, and weighs 112 pounds; with dark-brown hair that I wore short and parted to the right. I had softer skin than most guys, and my lips and eyelashes were fuller. I had a thin beard on my chin that I could shave every couple of days.

My neck was thin and showed off my Adam's apple. At the base of my neck, my collarbones protruded, and my shoulders were rounded and looked very feminine to me. My arms were hairy, and I had nice biceps and triceps—I worked out a lot.

Looking further down, I had normal-looking C-cup breasts with slightly darker-pink areolas. When my nipples would get hard, they stuck out around a half-inch.

Below my chest, you could see the outline of my ribs, where my waist narrowed and then curved back out to a set of wide hips that flared out. My legs grew to have the classic eighteen-degree Q-angle that women have; the one where the hips are wider than the knees; whereas, guys have hips almost straight over their knees.

(I know, body dysmorphia kicking in.)

My legs were muscular, I ran three miles a day but they were thin, and then there was the typical-female 'thigh gap' that guys never have.

As for my measurements, they were 35-26-36; I later found out my bra size was 32C.

The best part of my body was my abs. I was doing three routines that I rotated each night. That and running and weightlifting. Mom said that it helped me with my dysmorphia, but I still thought I had a woman's body with a man's voice and facial hair.

(My sister says, 'Duh, xx/xy.')

I suppose you would also like to know what I looked like down there. Well, it all looked like a normal guy except for the slit at the base of my testicles where the sack started to separate and thicken into thin outer labia lips. Just inside them, were smaller inner labia covering my vaginal opening. If one looked, they would just see a fold in my lower testicle sack. Only when I spread my legs and pulled my lips apart, would anyone realize I was actually half female down there.

When I am spread wide like that, I look just like any other female's lower vulva. Except for my testicles and seven-inch penis where my clitoris should be. By the way, my urethra is in my penis like any other normal guy.

I have never been sure if both of my sexes are fertile, but I was having periods and I had fully developed testicles, so I always assumed I was, and I was terrified of getting pregnant and having the world find out about my condition.

I was so fearful of getting semen on, or in, myself, I developed a phobia about it. I never, ever, touched my penis. Ever!

But one night, I stumbled across a website for birth control. They had all the regular stuff, condoms, pills, and IUDs, and then I spotted the rhythm method.

It explained how I ovulated, and how the egg would only last for a day before being re-absorbed. It also mentioned how sperm could be guided to the fallopian tubes and live there for up to five days.

It also showed me how to calculate safe days and fertile days. On either side of the fertile days, there were a couple of maybe days.

So, I mapped out my cycles and figured out what days I was actually safe. This relieved a lot of my stress about getting pregnant, and I became less fearful of touching myself. I eventually started masturbating on my safe days. But I was very careful to keep any semen away from my body, just in case, and I would never masturbate, at any time, close to my maybe or fertile days. Or flow days (that's just gross).

I had been masturbating for a couple of months (twelve times), but I still felt like I was still missing something, like there should be something more.

When I read about the female orgasm, I wanted to try to have one, but without a clitoris, I could only think of one way to have one—vaginal stimulation.

My nineteenth birthday was coming up in a few weeks, and I had calculated that my birthday would fall a week after ovulation. It would be a very safe time to try out my plan.

The big night came around, and I had music and candles. At first, I didn't know how to go about doing what I wanted to do, but after trying different ways, I found that if I pulled my balls to one side and pressed my soft erection down at a sharp angle, I could almost get it to the right place. After a bit more practice, I figured out how to fold it at just the right angle and it slid inside my moist opening just a little bit.

I could not believe how good I was feeling with my cock head inside of myself, and the feeling of my wet pussy surrounding my cock head was so intense. All of a sudden, my cock started swelling and getting so hard. As it hardened it started growing, and it kept going further and further in, as I got harder and harder.

I could not believe the pleasure I was feeling. I was just about to cum when for some reason, I just sat down hard on the edge of my bed forcing my now-fully erect cock deep inside my pussy.

The pain was instant, as six inches of thick cock was buried deep inside of me, stretching my vagina as it had never been stretched before. With all that pain, my dick shriveled up and slipped from me. That's when I saw all the blood all over my penis and the edge of my bed. I checked myself and saw that I was still bleeding from where I had been stretched, but not that much anymore, only it sure did sting still. I cleaned up my bed and took a warm bath, as I cried.

So that was my big birthday night. What a failure that first time was.

A few months later, I tried it again.

I started the same way, holding my balls to the side and pressing my soft cock at just the right angle, and again, I felt it slip inside of me. The intense pleasure made my cock harden so fast, and I felt it forcing its way deep inside of me.

Again, I don't know why I did this, but I sat down hard on the edge of the bed again. Only this time, it felt so good as my cock spread me wide and filled me up. The pleasure was so intense, I started cumming inside my pussy almost instantly. I even got shivers deep inside me, as I felt my cum flooding my pussy so deep inside me.

When my orgasm passed and my head cleared, it dawned on me what I had just done, and I ran to the bathroom to wash all that sticky cum out of me. That scared me so bad, that I thought I was pregnant for a week until my period started.

I decided that my anxieties were just too bad to keep doing anything like that, and I never did it again. I even had trouble masturbating after that scare.

A month later, I graduated high school, and at the end of the summer, I went off to college.

(Yes, I was held back a year when I was young because of all the missed school from all the medical testing. Another reason I hate doctors.)

I had been in college for a couple of weeks, when I met the person that changed my life.

He was shorter than most of the other guys and had a rather small frame. He had wild, dark hair and a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. He also had the warmest smile and the most beautiful blue eyes.

I met him in one of my classes, when he just sat down in the chair right next to me. I mean there were plenty of other seats. So, I was very surprised when he did that.

You have to remember, I am shy, withdrawn, and have all kinds of social anxiety disorders.

So, when someone voluntarily sits next to me with so many other seats available, it is a huge red flag. Like flight or fight level. But as anyone like me knows, there is always that third option, FREEZE.

I sat there feeling dizzy, thinking this was not real when he asked me if I was busy for lunch, right after class. Well, I was sure I was having a stroke or a brain aneurysm, or even a heart attack, or some other life-threatening medical condition the way my head felt, and how my heart was racing. When I felt the chills and nausea overwhelm me, I recognized it as just another panic attack.

During lunch, he talked about our classes, and I continued my panic attack.

I think it took me two days before I could speak to him. But over the next couple of weeks, we got to be good friends.

Then one evening, on our way back to my dorm after dinner, he asked me how long I had been trans.

That stopped me in my tracks. Oh, I knew what trans was, but I also knew I was NOT trans.

I asked him why he thought I was trans, and he pointed out my erect nipple bump that was barely visible through my bindings and loose clothing. I turned so he could not see me tearing up, as I barely held it together. Then that wonderful man said the only thing in the world, that would make his question even remotely acceptable.

He touched my arm and said, "Hey, sorry. I did not mean anything by it. I just wanted to know if you transitioned before I did."

I slowly turned to look at him. I openly stared at him, and then it clicked, all the feminine qualities were there, just covered up with the masculine ones. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the cold grass and my ass hurt. He squatted down in front of me and asked if I was okay.

"No, I've never been okay."

He helped me up and over to a bench, where I tried to explain what I am. As I told him, he started getting this huge grin.

"You are a real Futa?"

"No, I have two sets of DNA, a male XY, and a female XX."

"Like a Futa?"

"NO! Like a normal person." Then I sighed, "With both sexes."

"Like a Futa."

I stood up, looked at him, and started screaming, "I am not a cartoon person!"

Then I was running, trying to get away from him. I was crying so hard, I never even heard him chasing me. If I hadn't been experiencing yet another panic attack and some kind of mental breakdown, he would have never been able to catch me, and nothing would have happened.

Only, he did catch me. I felt him grab hold of my arm and I spun around yanking my arm hard from his grip. Then I was falling. I was screaming, as I hit the ground hard. I just lay there crying, hiding my face in my arms.

He spoke softly, "Okay, not a Futa."

I ignored him and just kept crying.

"Are you okay? I did not mean to hurt you."

I just begged him to leave me alone. But then I felt him sitting beside me, trying to help me sit up.

If I did not like him so much, I would have just run away from him again, but I did like him. And he was trying to apologize.

I just stared down at my hands in my lap as I sat there in the lotus position, "Do you know how much it hurts to think that you are something other than human?"

"Not really, but I do know what it feels like to feel like my body is not me."

"All my life, I have been 'Other'. Not normal, not quite human. I've had to hide who I am all my life because people think like you do."

"I'm sorry. But I still think it would be so cool to be a true Futa. Not that you are one."

I looked up at him sitting there looking at me, I turned my head away from him, "No. You would not."

"Why? I think I would do most anything to be one. I have always wanted a real penis."

I looked at him. He was smiling that huge grin again.

I yelled at him, "Stop it, you have no idea what you are talking about." I could feel the tears running down my face. "Just think about it. Fifteen years old, everyone thinks you have been a boy all your life and you have to hide your huge girl tits. You have to bind up your chest every day and wear baggy clothes, so they don't see your womanly hips and suspect something. You can never date, or ever let anyone see you undressed. Not even your own mother. Because how can you explain having a woman's body when I am a guy? I would not wish that on even my worst enemy."

My tears were dripping off my chin, my hands were covered with tears. I could feel the hitching in my chest indicating that a real cry was on the way.

"Oh shit. Was it really that bad?"

"Worse. You don't think this level of crazy happens overnight, do you?" I felt a bubble of crazy laughter escape me.

"Man, I thought I had it bad. Everyone started looking at me strangely, when I started my testosterone treatments, but they were all supportive. I'm so sorry that you didn't have anyone."

"Thanks."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you know I am here for you now, right?"

I looked up from staring at my hands. "I guess."

"So, you never dated?"

I was looking at my hands again, "No."

"Then you never had sex?" I said nothing, and he continued. "Yeah, guess not, if you never let anyone see you."

I looked up at him through my tears, "Well..."

His eyes went wide, and he looked down at my body, over my crossed legs, his eyes were staring at my crotch.

"Did you?"

I smiled and nodded.

"How?"

I looked around and got to my feet, "Well, it took a few tries, but yeah, I can get it in there."