The Beast and the Butterfly

Dr. Mitchell came by bright and early every day to check on me and to make sure everything was healing properly. At first, I couldn't stand to look when my dressings were changed but, after a few days, my curiosity got the better of me and I found I was intrigued by my new anatomy.

I had seen pictures in the magazines I thought I had hidden from my mom in my room, but it was different in person, especially since it was now mine. Dr. Mitchell was an excellent surgeon and what I found between my legs, aside from the swelling, looked exactly like what I had seen in my magazines.

A group of classmates from my school had come to visit. None of them staying very long as it was just too weird. I really didn't know what to say to them anyway. I mean Charlie was now Charly. Nothing like this ever happened in our small town. It felt like some of them just came to see the circus and when they realized there was no popcorn, left, never to return.

Of all the ironies, Tommy Ryan was the one that stayed. I found I could truly count on him. We had never been close, but that started to change as he began stopping by every day and seemed honestly concerned about me. It turned out his big sister had 'transitioned', is what they call it, before they moved here, and he knew what I was going through. I didn't bother to tell him that it was all, very possibly his fault.

Our talks about what had happened and was happening to me seemed to be as therapeutic for him as they were for me. He asked deep questions that really made me think about stuff and focus on the important things in my life. He seemed concerned about my family support. Evidently, his family was not to keen on getting a new daughter by other than 'normal' channels and it had caused some real issues. His sister had moved out and gone to California for her surgery and to start a new life.

I assured him that my mom and dad were fully with me and that I was confident that, considering the circumstances, my grand parents and the rest of my family would accept what was happening. I hoped anyway.

My mom and dad were constantly in and out of my room. Checking in on me and talking about stuff. It seemed that Tommy was always there. Dad had called the university and apprised them of what was going on. They had dealt with this a few times before and transferred my dorm reservation to a girl's dorm. A week ago, that would have been huge, a fantasy come true. The realization that it was the new normal brought a somber sadness with it. The Beast was really gone.

The track coach said they would honor the scholarship for the first year and, depending on what the NCAA said, would do everything they could to keep it in force, if I continued to qualify. Besides, my times for a male were acceptable, for a girl, they were outstanding. That was why the NCAA would need to get involved.

On day six, Dr. Mitchell took her time explaining and telling me the 'real' names for everything; The mound under the little tuft of public hair was called the mons pubis, or just mons. 'Pussy lips' were really called labia, there was major on the outside and minor inside those, the small opening was my urethra; I peed from there, and, of course, the big opening was my vagina, not my pussy.

She had used a new procedure using tissue from my peritoneum to fashion my vagina that would allow it to self-lubricate like a real one and should heal a little more quickly. The traditional method of penile inversion had been made problematic by the damage done in the accident and subsequent surgery to deal with the infection.

She had managed to give me a clitoris, which she then referred to as 'the magic button'. She said I would find out more about that later and blushed a little. "You should go home tomorrow. Hands off until I say so, OK?"

I promised but the admonition made me eager to find out what she meant.

Day seven came with a certain trepidation. I was going home, leaving the little nest the new me had been born in, the nest that had kept me safe for the past ten days. Going out to face the world in a whole new light. I would miss Anne the most.

My mom and dad were already there when Dr. Mitchell came in for her daily exam. I was healing extremely well and the packing in my vagina could be removed. She took her time explaining to me and my mom what would need to be done every day. It was going to be a lot and I wouldn't have the nurses to help me.

My mom took my hand and assured me and Dr. Mitchell we would be fine. I was petrified. I caught my dad's eye. He nodded at me and gave me one of his patented 'you got this' grins that he used before big races. I put on my best face and agreed.

Dr. Mitchell smiled. "Good. Don't worry about the swelling. It will go down over the next month or so. You should be fully recovered by the time you head off to college in the fall. I'll see you in my office in a week to check out your progress. Anne will review the day to day specifics of your do's and don'ts with you. And remember, hands off until I say so." She smirked at me as she got up to continue her rounds.

I looked up at Anne and was greeted with a huge smile as she waved a packet of papers at me. "Oh great, this is going to be fun." The sarcasm dripped from my words and Anne just laughed.

The first page was a summary. I scanned it quickly noting things like hygiene and swelling, limits on physical activity, something called dilation and my heart almost stopped when I saw sexual intercourse on the list. Oh, crap, I had totally not thought about that. I looked at Anne and then my mom and then my dad and back at the paper.

"I was wondering when that would hit you." Anne said softly. "What do you think about that?"

"I really don't know." I said, "I guess it makes sense, But, well, I've never been attracted to guys. Maybe I could be like a lesbian or something."

"You could," Anne replied, "I think over time, you'll figure it out and it will work however it's supposed to."

I blushed bright red as a vision of Tommy Ryan flashed through my mind, what the hell??? My mom was just now figuring out what we were talking about and looked very confused while my dad did his damnedest, pretending he hadn't heard a word and stifling a laugh at the same time.

We finished reviewing the summary. "So ready to get dressed and head home?" Anne gave me her most encouraging smile.

I hadn't thought about that either and a sudden sadness hit me. "I brought you some things." My mom's voice had a calming effect.

I looked at her and back at Anne, "I guess so."

In her never-ending effort to make sure everything was just right; my mom had brought a suitcase filled with a veritable plethora of options from which I could choose what to wear home. While my dad signed the release papers and Anne disconnected my IV, I started going through the case. I quickly picked some shorts and a t-shirt with sneakers, all safe choices.

I looked at the underwear, a collection of different styles of panties, a single training bra (really mom), and a pair of my old boxer briefs. I started to grab the familiar boxer briefs when I heard Anne say, "I like the pink ones with the bows and lace trim. And besides, they match the bra.

I looked up at her and she just nodded. "In for a penny, in for a pound, right?"

Her smile was all I needed. I took the pink panties with the lace trim and the training bra out of the suitcase and laid them next to the other clothes I had chosen, climbed out of the bed and dropped my gown to the floor.

Getting dressed was a cathartic experience. The panties felt nice and I decided I liked them, the way they fit and the way they looked. The bra was interesting. With ample encouragement from my mom and Anne and a good bit of laughter from my dad, I got it on without twisting it in a knot, and it wasn't too bad. There wasn't anything to fill it yet, but I guess that's why it was called a training bra. The shorts zipped form the wrong side but that wasn't a big deal and, of course the t-shirt and sneakers were, well, a t-shirt and sneakers.

"That's my girl." I heard my dad say. I turned to look at him, saw the love and acceptance in his face and threw myself into his arms and started crying. He held me like he never had before and just let me cry.

Through muffled sobs, I mumbled, "I love you, dad."

He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back just enough that he could look me in the face, put his hands on my cheeks and tenderly wiped my tears with his thumbs and grinned, "Hey, we got this, right?"

I nodded. Still sniffling, I turned to my mom and hugged her, too.

Anne handed me one of her now famous warm towels to wipe my face and I hugged her, too.

"I'll take one of those. I mean as long as your handing them out." It was Tommy Ryan's voice and he was looking at me, not at Anne and her towel. "I heard you were going home this morning and I just wanted to see if you needed anything."

"I think my mom has the 'anything and the everything' departments covered." I said and we all laughed as my mom gave a small curtsy. "But thanks for coming. I'm really glad you're here. "

I was glad Tommy was here and, yes, he got a big hug, too.

A nurse had brought a wheel chair into the room. Anne took immediate control.

"Hospital rules." She said as she motioned me into the chair.

There was a donut pillow in the chair.

"You're going to want that." She said, and boy was she right.

I sat down and Anne turned me toward the door.

We made our way to the elevator and out to the parking lot with me, my mom and Anne going over everything that needed to happen, again, to make sure I healed fully and properly. My dad had gone ahead to get the car and Tommy had gone with him. I couldn't place it, but there was something comforting about seeing Tommy and my dad together.

I realized that my nest, the safety net was not the hospital, but the people around me that loved me and would help me through what was to come; and they were all here with me right now.

My dad pulled up in the car with Tommy in his truck right behind him. My dad loaded the suitcase and a few other things into the trunk while Tommy helped me, and the donut, into the car. My mom was still going over last-minute details of my treatment plan with Anne. I was going to be in very good hands.

"You can stop by the house sometime if you want." I told Tommy.

"Yeah, I'd like that." He had a nice smile. I tried to remember why we hadn't liked each other, and nothing came to mind other than the football incident. He was a good guy and was becoming a true friend, something I realized we both needed.

Anne handed me a slip of paper through the window. "That's my number. In case you need to talk." She smiled. The look on her face told me she believed I was going to be OK. I knew I was in good hands and I made a silent promise to myself that I would not forget to call her.

"I will." I said, grabbing her hand and holding on just for a second.

Chapter 5

The next few months were a long series of strung-together days full of laying around and trying to find ways to sit that didn't hurt punctuated by therapy twice a week and the daily tasks of keeping myself clean and caring for my new anatomy, the introduction of tampons and pads for the discharge and spotty bleeding.

My therapist was a very cool lady named Abby. She was a specialist in gender issues and our bi-weekly sessions were the perfect venue for venting all my anger and fear and frustration. She took all of it and, more often that not, just sat and listened and made notes about what I was going through. Her favorite phrases were, "And how does that make you feel?" or "And how do you feel about that?"

I knew she was forcing me to do all the heavy lifting but, at the same time, realized that, in her own way, she was saving my life.

My mom was amazing. I didn't know how I could have made it without her, but she had always been there for me. My dad was, well, my dad. I liked the way he looked at me and smiled and thought about how he had called me 'his girl' in the hospital. It made me feel special and somehow made us closer and what I was going through easier.

I didn't understand how some people choose this. It was hard, real hard. I guess if you feel like you're in the wrong body all the time, it would be the better choice, but damn, it was not an easy path.

Tommy came by every day. He would join my mom and me for lunch. We'd play "Call of Duty" or he would cream me at "Madden football" or we would just talk about how things were going. When I felt up to it, we would go for walks or take his truck to get ice cream. It was nice to have him around. He just understood what was going on and I needed that.

My visits with Dr. Mitchell went very well. She told me I was healing well ahead of schedule and that whatever I was doing, I should keep doing. I gave my mom all the credit due to her diligence and dedication to the details. We talked about the soreness in my breasts, which she thought was a little soon but not necessarily a bad thing. It just meant that the hormone therapy was doing its job and I would probably need a real bra sooner than expected.

I really looked forward to my now daily calls with Anne. Sometimes she would just check in with me and other times we would talk at length about stuff. It didn't seem to matter what it was, Anne could talk me through it. I seemed to talk a lot about Tommy when I talked to Anne. She just listened and reassured me that good friends like him were important. I got a funny feeling that she knew something she wasn't telling me but decided not to worry about it. It would all come out in time.

By the time my birthday came around in August, I had gotten an all clear from Dr. Mitchell and had pretty much come to grips with my new life. At least I pretended to anyway. It was still a challenge and probably would be for a long time, but I was confident I could handle it.

My mom had introduced me to her Mary K consultant, and I had learned how to do my own makeup. She and I had gone shopping, multiple times, and bought some dresses and skirts and other outfits. I got my first bikini and of course all the new outfits meant new shoes as well. I now understood why girls liked to shop so much, all the options and pretty colors and different fabrics. Guys clothes were just boring.

I did have to get a real bra much sooner than expected. Dr. Mitchell's theory was that I had finally hit that last growth spurt that my GP told me was coming and with the lack of testosterone and the new influx of estrogen, instead of body hair and another few inches of height, I had gotten breasts and hips. It probably influenced my new-found propensity to cry about stuff, too.

Tommy seemed to really like all these developments and I seemed to like that he noticed. I talked to Abby and to Anne bout how Tommy was looking at me differently now and how it made me feel.

Abby asked me, "So, how do you feel about that?"

Anne just laughed. "Charly, girl, go look at yourself in the mirror" was all she would say.

Aside from being my birthday, it was also my appointment with the judge to make my new gender official. This was something that needed to happen for a bunch or reasons paramount of which was the fact that the University needed the documentation before I could move into my dorm in three weeks.

I had woken up a little early. For some reason I was nervous thinking 'What if the judge says no?' I knew this was ridiculous, but it was there anyway. I wanted to make my best impression on the judge, so I took a shower and started to get ready. When I got out of the shower, I looked at myself, really looked at myself in the mirror for the first time since the night of my graduation.

The boy with slightly effeminate features was gone. In his place was a beautiful young woman. I liked who I saw looking back at me and understood why Anne had laughed at me when I talked about the funny way Tommy looked at me now. It was all coming into focus.

I was tall with long legs and a tight athletic body. My hair now hung over my shoulders and I wore it parted in the middle and pulled back behind my ears. My breasts were small but supple and, from the sensitivity, still growing. Between my legs was the same small tuft of pubic hair that had always been there. I could just see my labia peeking out from underneath. My hips were modest but complemented the curves of my slender body. All in all, it made for a very nice package.

I took my hands and caressed my stomach and moved them up to gently massage my nipples. I cold feel the warmth and wetness growing in my crotch and moved my right hand down to cover my mons, sliding a finger into my vagina, I let out a soft moan.

Suddenly, Dr. Mitchell's face was in my head. "Hands off until I say so" echoed in my brain. I retracted my finger and quickly reached for my hair dryer. Thinking to myself, "I really need to call Dr. Mitchell."

A grin crossed my face as I dried my hair. I chose my laciest panties and bra from my underwear drawer. I was feeling extra feminine right now and wanted to keep that feeling. My makeup only took a few minutes as I had become quite adept at the process. I kissed the mirror leaving an imprint of my lips and tossed my chosen lip gloss into my purse as a final approval of my work.

A nice simple floral print dress and a pair of low heel sandals completed the look. Spinning in front of the mirror, I admired how the dress flowed around me and how my long legs looked underneath.

I now understood that Tommy was trying to figure out how to deal with being my friend and being physically attracted to who I was becoming. He was just as confused by all this as I was, because I realized that I was trying to figure out the same things about him.

A huge smile filled my face as I grabbed my purse and bounced downstairs ready to take on the world.

Chapter 6

I snuck up behind my dad in the kitchen, threw my arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a mark that matched the one on my mirror upstairs. "Good morning, daddy." The 'daddy' got his attention and he looked away from his paper to catch me doing another spin in my dress.

"Well, somebodies in an exceptionally good mood this morning" he observed. "Anything I need to know about?"

"Nope. It just all came into focus this morning and I realized how lucky I really am."

"Well, Happy Birthday. Come here. I have something for you." He was still smiling about the 'daddy' thing and I decided I would keep using that one.

I sat down next to him and he took my hands in his. "Listen, I'm really proud of how you're handling all of this. You have really become quite an exceptional young lady in a very short time. It's amazing. Especially considering how you got here."

"Thanks, daddy. I couldn't have gotten this far without some serious help. You know that, right?" I smiled "and I still have a long way to go."

He flashed me his 'You got this' smile, "You know your mom has a pretty full day planned for you two, right?"

I nodded. "It's going to be so much fun. I can't wait."

"Good. She's excited too. I was hoping to get a few minutes of time, just the two of us and I'm glad you came down early.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet pouch. "This was your grandmother's. It has her mother's and hers before that. I didn't get a sister and I'm the oldest, so. Anyway, I was planning on giving it to your oldest daughter but considering how things have changed. I think it belongs to you now."

He handed me the pouch. Inside was a beautiful simple gold ring with a Celtic love knot engraved into it.

"I want you to wear this and promise me you will always respect yourself and that you'll find that one special person out there waiting for you, whoever it is. Things are just different for girls. I mean, you know just as well as I do what boys can be like, right?"