Shelley Ch. 01

I still remember like it happened yesterday. I was a senior in high school, happy my class was over, and getting ready to join my mates on the football field. As I exited the gate, I saw 3 guys surround a person in the middle, now and then pinching or slapping him. I approached them, and realized the one in the middle was my little brother, Sean. Two seconds later, I grabbed the ear of the closest attacker, and blurted, "Guys, is there a problem here?"

One of them pointed at Sean, "Sir, this wimp is a faggot!".

I moved forward, pulling with me a bruised ear, and caught with my other hand the neck of the one who talked to me. I held both of them tight, and spoke softly, "First of all, he is not. But even if he were, why is this your business? Did he do anything to any of you?"

The third student whispered, "He didn't, but he doesn't belong here. We wanted him to get out of our school and move somewhere else. We hate gays!"

"Sorry, guys, unfortunately for you, I do not share the same feelings about somebody who did not provoke you. More importantly, this is my brother, and I love him. But unlike you, 3 jerks, I am a very nice person, so I am willing to compromise. First, each one of you will apologize profusely for touching him without permission," I stared at the 3rd guy, "Starting with you, moron!"

He blushed, gazed at my brother, and muttered, "I am sorry. We shouldn't have done what we did."

My piercing eyes aimed at the ear's boy, "And now you, idiot!"

"Sean, we were wrong, sorry."

I turned to the student who called him faggot, "And now you, imbecile!"

I guess my fingers pinched him a little too hard because his voice was high pitched, "Sean, I promise to never do it again."

I laughed, "Buddy, your voice sounds like a soprano to me. Are you sure YOU are not the faggot here?!"

I must have squeezed him even harder, cause this time the sounds he made were more like a mezzo soprano, "No, sir, I swear. Please, sir, let me go..."

I glanced at Sean, who stood silent, watching me handling the 3 bullies. "Sean, let's go." As I was talking, I bumped the heads of both guys one against the other. "Guys, just like the 3 of you were sorry, I apologize too. It was unintentional. You'll likely have a nasty headache for a day or two, which will remind you NEVER to touch an innocent human being. And since all three of you are dummies, I'll remind you - If I ever hear any of you or your friends come within a hundred yards of my brother, better ensure your will is in order. Any of you have a question?!..." They remained quiet like fish.

I hugged my 2 year younger brother, "Sean, how many times people harass you like that when I am not around?"

"Often..."

"Because they perceive you as weak. Would you like to join a self defense class? Or start exercising in a health club nearby?"

He hugged my waist and whispered, "Bob, I hate all the muscle stuff. I like reading and watching movies. I'll never be as strong as you..."

I looked at him and couldn't agree more. He was barely 5'6", 140 pounds, and I doubted he'd grow much more. Unlike him, I was 6'3", 200 pounds of pure muscles.

...

My mother died a day after I was born. I was told it was due to a major complication during the delivery. Dad was devastated, and then found a nanny for me. He remarried a year later, and Sean was born after 10 months. He looked like her - dirty blond hair, cute face, and delicate body features. Unlike him, I inherited my father's genes. He was a sergeant in the army, and was tough with his recruits as well as with his kids.

As children, we were boisterous, and caused a lot of trouble. About 80% of the time it was my fault. When the nanny was around, she only reprimanded us. However, when Dad found out, we knew that severe punishment was on the way. As I said, I deserved most of the blame, but I assumed responsibility for Sean's shenanigans too. I knew I could take it better than him.

Some of my friends complained about their younger siblings, but this was never the case with me and Sean. He admired me. He knew I loved him and would protect him, and he tried his best to help me, too. He never barged unannounced into my room, and rarely asked for my help. On occasions, when Dad was around and my room was not organized like one would expect in the barracks, Sean made sure everything was in tip-top shape. When the nanny was sick and didn't show up, he did the laundry and even basic cooking.

By the end of my senior year, I knew I wanted to join the army. Dad was happy. He hugged me and said, "Son, I know you'll make me proud, unlike your brother, who is more likely to be a piano player or a ballerina..." I knew my father well and didn't bother answering. It was useless - In his mind, there were 2 kinds of men. The muscular athletes, or the wimpy others. so I let go.

Two months after joining, the September 11 horror show happened. I was sent to Afghanistan a year later. We were busy fighting and then keeping the order in major cities. Many of us were on edge because nobody knew when an enemy would show up and shoot at us. My service in Afghanistan lasted almost 2 years, and then my superior sent me to a new battleground - Iraq.

In the beginning, I was assigned to a noncombatant job, and had enough time to contact home. Dad continued his prior job of training the new soldiers, who eventually joined the others in Iraq or Afghanistan. I asked Dad about Sean, and he ignored my question. I asked again, and this time he answered in angry tone, "Talk to Sean yourself." He handed the phone to my brother.

"Sean, how are you? I missed you. Sorry I wasn't around for your 18th or 19th birthday. Are you in college now?"

His voice sounded as if he was using a falsetto, "Bob, I missed you so much! You won't believe what I did... I decided to stop pretending. I never felt that I was a man like you or Dad. Deep inside I knew I was destined to be a woman. In my case, nature made a mistake, giving me a body of a male. A puny male. When I turned 18 I got the courage to confront Dad and told him I wanted to become a woman. He almost had a fit. I resisted all his attempts to change my mind. I started taking certain tablets and got some shots. You hear it in my voice. I feel much more feminine already. I grew nice breasts, and the day after tomorrow is my final plastic surgery - I'll lose my penis and get a vagina instead..."

I was too shocked to respond. Sean asked, "Bob, are you still there?"

"Yes, I am. I didn't know..."

"Nobody knew. I hope next time we meet, you'll like the change."

From the corner of my eye, I saw my captain approaching, "Sean, I need to run. I'll call you again soon."

Before I hung up I heard him mumble, "Bob, I am no longer Sean. My new name is Shelley. Please call me Shelley from now on..."

I chortled, "I'll try to remember your new name."

...

The following month in Iraq was a tough one. I was in Fallujah, and our unit fought multiple insurgents on a daily basis. Four from my regiment died and countless got injured. The question wasn't IF we get hurt, but WHEN... The longer I was there the more depressed I became. Fighting another army is one thing, but not knowing the area and getting ambushed on a regular basis by insurgents who hid behind women and children was a whole different story. It was like fighting with one hand tied behind your back!...

I managed to phone my family 6 months after the first call. Dad was still the same old Dad - He kept his upbeat spirit and was sure America was on the right track in Iraq. He was still proud of his hero son, who was fighting the lowlife enemies.

I asked him about Sean. Dad's demeanor changed immediately, and he said, "Wait on the line."

Three minutes later, I heard a high pitched voice, "Bob, you DO remember we are your family..."

"Sorry, I was busy. We are constantly under attack over here, and in the few moments we are not interrupted, you guys are asleep, or our telephone is super busy... Sean, so how are you doing lately?"

"Bob, I stopped being Sean long ago. I am Shelley now. I went through my final operation, and there is no way back. I am a full fledged woman now..."

I smirked, "Will I recognize you when I come home?"

"You better! We love you here, and waiting to see you soon."

The alarm sounded, and I had to disconnect and get to a secure place. After 20 minutes we were allowed back to our relaxing area.

I sat with 3 comrades to play cards. It was never about big money but pride, bragging rights, and passing the time. At one point I needed to pee. I ran to the bathroom. As I was urinating, I heard a whistling sound and then a major explosion near me. The noise was deafening, and for a minute or so I couldn't hear anything. I checked myself in the broken mirror. I was covered with dust, but I saw no blood - Thank god. I rushed to my friends, but the place where we had our game was totally destroyed. I saw body parts, blood, and stained clothes all over. I lost it. I literally lost it! It was obvious nobody survived. Other soldiers and the medical team showed up and started gathering everything. A medic came toward me and asked me something. I had no idea what he wanted. He asked again in a language I didn't understand. I wanted to talk but couldn't. I just stared at him. He grabbed me by the hand and led me to the infirmary. I sat there for a long time before a doctor came to see me. He talked, and talked again. I tried to answer but nothing came of my mouth. I recall he said to somebody I was having a shell shock.

I spent many days in an area that was dedicated to soldiers like me. I began speaking several days later but it was not very coherent. I knew it, yet couldn't do anything about it. Worse than that, falling asleep was difficult, and every night, I woke up at least 3 times imagining being bombarded again.

The sleepless nights took a heavy toll on me. I lost my appetite, and most of the time I lay on my back gazing at a blank spot on the ceiling. The medical team tried multiple times to chat with me, but to no avail. A few weeks later I was sent back to a hospital in my hometown in the USA.

Dad came to visit. He seemed worried. He tried to talk to me, but I could not conduct a conversation. He gave up after about an hour. He kissed my forehead and said, "I'll send Sean, I mean Shelley, to come see you."

Later in the afternoon, a pretty girl came toward me. Only when she was very close I recognized... Shelly! I smiled. The girl hugged me tight and kissed my cheek, "Bob, I missed you more than you know. I heard what happened to you in Iraq. I already talked to your doctor. He needs 3 days to finish all the administrative BS, and then I'll take you home with me. Knowing you were arriving, I rented a small apartment for us. It will make it easier on Dad. He still cannot look me in the eye. In his opinion, I am a disgrace to the family. Your discharge due to psychiatric condition did not help either. I promised Dad that you'd be better with me rather than the 3 of us under the same roof. He reluctantly agreed, but I think deep down he was relieved. He'll visit us every weekend he could leave the base."

Shelley's feminine voice was calming. I just nodded my head, still unable to complete sentences.

When it was time to leave the hospital, Shelley hugged my waist and together we walked to her car. I refused to use a wheelchair. In fact, my ability to move normally returned much faster than thinking logically or talking. At her house I had my own room with a TV set. Before Shelley left to her classes, she made sure to take care of all my needs. Most of the time I was watching the screen or staring blankly at a certain spot on the wall. She returned sometime in the afternoon, prepared dinner, and later talked to me about her school.

I am not sure exactly when and why, but gradually I felt better. When she was gone, I practiced talking to myself and noticed significant improvements after several weeks. My appetite returned as well. I could focus better, and... My cock started bothering me. I haven't had sex in years. When I was in the army, we were too busy to think about it. Whenever we were free for several hours, many soldiers, including me, masturbated, but that was all.

One day I discovered a photo album. The first page showed pictures of Sean the way I remembered him. The following pages displayed the whole transition he underwent to become she. The last page had 3 pictures of Shelley in a bikini. I couldn't believe my eyes - She was gorgeous! As Sean, he had little hair on his body, but now, the legs, arms, and chest were hairless and smooth. The B cup tits pushed the bra nicely forward. The waist had a feminine shape, and the hips somewhat wider than I remembered.

If I didn't know it used to be my brother, I'd think she was a 'normal' beautiful young girl...

That evening, Shelley came home later than usual, and was surprised to see me smiling at her.

"Bob, is everything OK?"

"Shelley, as of late, thanks to you, I feel much better. I walked around and saw the album with your pre and post pictures"

Shelley blushed, "What did you think?"

I stared into her eyes, "I think Shelley is much more interesting and attractive than Sean."

"Oh, thank you. It means the world to me..."

"I was too sick and depressed to notice but I think you look amazing. If you weren't my... sister, I'd try to date you."

"Bob, I think you are recovering nicely. I am so happy to watch you getting better... You have no idea how many nights I was crying my heart out, praying to god for your full recovery."

"Shelley, It was a tough journey, but it's time to move on. I'd like to register at a health facility to train my muscles again. I'll start reading and using a computer to train my brain too. And if everything progresses as I want, I'll begin helping at home. The last step is to look for a job."

She grinned, "Brother, please take it easy and do not hurry. I'd hate to see you regress due to rushing it too soon."

"I promise I'll be careful."

"Bob, I almost forgot. Next week is your birthday. What would you want us to do for your big day?"

"Shelley, I didn't remember it either. Let me think about it for a couple of days..."

She was holding a large soft towel, "Take 3 days, and let me know." I saw her going to the bathroom to shower.

What did I want for my birthday? I couldn't think of anything. After years in the army and a prolonged recovery, my mind was not tuned yet to think about trivial things.

I must have dozed off. The next thing I remembered was seeing Shelley coming out of the bathroom covered from neck to thighs with the towel. Shelley put on slight makeup and her face looked... pretty! The legs were as feminine as any I've seen. She looked... sexy! I could not understand how I thought this way about my brother/sister, but I did.

Shelley noticed me ogling her body and giggled, "I look very different than before the sex change. My hope is you get used to me being a woman and not your BROTHER..."

I smirked, "Shelley, I still remember my little brother. However, when I look at you, I see a pretty, sexy girl!"

Her face turned crimson red, "If this is what you really think, every torture I went through along the way was worth it..." She went to her bedroom, put on a floral robe, and joined me for another gossip about the army and her classes.

I went to bed at 10 pm. I fell asleep quite easily, but woke up an hour later with a weird dream: I was dating a girl, and we went to a movie together. We were necking the whole time, and then went to bed. As my prick entered her cunt she said in a high pitched voice she loved me. I gazed at her face and stopped in my tracks. It was Shelley... My sister Shelley! I woke up sweating.

I showered and returned to bed. During the night I dreamt about Shelley again. This time she wore a bikini I saw in one of her photos. we were strolling on the seashore, looking for nice shells. I was behind her, watching her sexy hips sashaying, and my pecker hardened. I hugged her from behind and dry-fucked her fantastic ass. She whispered that there were people watching us. I said I didn't care. We went to a quiet corner and I began mounting her body. I was too horny and started ejaculating before entering her pussy. I woke up and found my underwear soaked with my spunk. What the hell?!... It's true I was years into my sexual draught, and Shelley was very attractive, but still!

In the morning, I decided that on my birthday we'd go to a bar to celebrate, have alcohol, and get drunk. We'd use an Uber, so driving under the influence won't be an issue to worry about.

Later I told Shelley my choice. She smiled, "Bob, I'll be happy to spend time with you in a bar. Since this is going to be our first celebration together following your grueling army service and long recovery, I'll go further. I'll grant you a blank check in the form of a wish. You get anything you want, as long as it's something I am able to do. Of course, if you ask for a million dollars, I can't, but you'll be surprised I know people who'll do unbelievable things for me..."

I looked her in the eye, "Did you say ANYTHING?..."

She grinned, "You heard it right. A N Y T H I N G."

I wasn't thinking, and with my face down I mumbled, " I doubt you'll need the help of other people for my wish..."

I regretted saying it immediately afterward, but it was too late. I raised my face to glance at her. Did she hear me?

Shelley's face turned red. She hesitated, and then whispered, "When the day comes, tell me..."

In the next few days until my birthday, we tried to behave normally but there was a certain tension in the air. Was it excitement? Sexual tension?... I also noticed Shelley clothed differently. It was subtle, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I sensed her walk turned more provocative too...

The nightmarish dreams I used to have about the Iraq War got gradually replaced by ones in which I and Shelley were having sexual encounters. The end result was that I suffered less and masturbated more...

...

My birthday happened to be on a Saturday. I woke up smelling fresh brewed coffee. I recalled the old Folgers coffee commercial and chuckled. I felt lazy and remained in bed. It was too hot. I removed the blanket and had on only my underwear. I relaxed on my back with my hands folded behind my head on the pillow. I was thinking about going to the bar for the first time in years.

Suddenly, I heard a soft knock on the door. Shelley, carrying a tray with breakfast, barged in without waiting for me to answer. She saw me and apologized, "Sorry, I thought you were still asleep. I wanted to leave the tray on the dresser, so you'll have it ready when you wake up." Her eyes explored my body, pausing momentarily on my bulging groin. She blushed and left. I checked the tray. There was a warm croissant with cream cheese, hot coffee, a small salad, and 3 green olives. In addition, I saw a small colorful envelope. I opened and read it, 'Dear Bob, I loved you all my life, but lately even more. Happy birthday, and hope you get everything you wish for on your birthday. YOURS, Shelley.' My deviant brain began searching for a hidden message - Was the 'YOURS' written in capital letters to give me a hint?

I savored the delicious meal, wore shorts and a tee shirt, and came out holding the tray, "Shelley, you outdid yourself. It was fresh and tasty." I kissed her soft cheek, and left the tray in the sink.

She said, "Bob, I need to run some errands. I'll be back in the afternoon. When would you like us to go to the bar?"

"Around 9 pm."

"I'll be home much earlier than that. OK, see you later."

I had time for myself! And for once, no nightmares about the war. I would have felt completely free, but a new subject arose in the last few days: Shelley. I began developing strong feelings toward my sister. It was wrong on so many levels. She started as my younger brother... and I fantasized about incest, god forbid! To top it off, Shelley liked my flirting, but what would she say if she knew my sick brain wanted even more?... My mind was going nuts over the issue.