The Greatest Lie Part 4

So after class on the first day of school I found myself in the office of Dr. Peter Prince, an endocrinologist. His nurse summoned me from his drab waiting room to a tiny curtain draped alcove, and she handed me a paper gown. She motioned to a hanger hooked to the wall, saying "You can hang your clothes there." My heart started racing. Other than Jake and Jon, no one had seen my emerging femininity in anything near its current state of development. My breasts were firm, perfect cones capped with broad aereoles and tipped with nipples that hardened and rose in the chill of the examination room. My muscles had softened into the delicate curves of a maturing young woman, and my skin was clear and my hair, though short, was soft, lustrous and thick. My penis shrunk to an even tinier than usual inch and a half as I shivered miserably under the rough paper shroud.

Dr. Prince strode in abruptly, sweeping the curtain aside without looking up from his clipboard. He was an angular, bearded and intense young doctor. "Hmm, Alex Rios, and you were referred from ah, the Gay, Lesbian and Transgendered Center. What seems to be the problem." I had decided on a direct approach.

"Um, the problem is, I was born a girl stuck in a boy’s body, but I’ve changed that, and now I have girl’s body, but I’m stuck in a boy’s dorm." This admission got Dr. Prince’s attention. "What do you mean?" I hunched my slender shoulders forward and let the gown slip to the floor. As I looked up at Dr. Prince, I caught him in the second half of a double take, and he looked pleased.

"Ahem, ah, who prescribed the hormones?" he asked, recovering his professional composure. "A doctor in Tijuana," I lied. "I’m from California," I added, as if that would explain everything. "What are you on?" I told him, editing out my most extreme excesses. He scribbled on his pad. "We’ll need bloods and urine.