We can find something that'll fit your, um, I really don't know how to say this.”My cheeks burned. “I'm not trans,” I whispered. “I'm a girl.�...�“Of course your a girl,” she said with a big, supportive smile. “No matter what you were assigned at birth, you are who you say you are. And I'll be sure to help you out.”I said I wouldn't be in the closet. “No, no, I'm a futanari. I, er, have a clit-dick.” God, that was embarrassing to say in front of my mother. “It happened recently.”“Futanari syndrome,. ” But as she spoke, Cynthia slipped the straps of the dress over Emily’s shoulders, the garment dropping to the floor before a full, navy blue bra was quickly unhooked. Suddenly the wife next door was standing in our kitchen, completely naked save for sandals and the knickers that sat incongruously at half thigh.“Fucking ace tits,” I said, enjoying the look of acute embarrassment.“We could take some great pictures of you for your profile page,” Cynthia said.“Like that, do you, Emily?” I filled. I might look and sound just likehim but I'd know the difference, and so would Emily and her mom. I'dfound new levels of emotion and depths of feeling I'd never knownbefore. I'd discovered a slight affinity for things like sundressesand beaded bracelets and barrettes in my hair. I'd been talked downto. Been arrested. Learned to skate.I'd fought a Cold War with other girls. A boy had tried to kiss me.I'd been objectified, belittled, admired. People had responded to me,reacted to me,. But On my way I stopped there. On the couch was my step-sister with the covers over her, very noticeably masturbating. I See her hand placed and shifting in between her legs. Just the outline through the blanket, as if she was fooling anyone. The sounds of her fingering herself, and how wet it all seemed. And There was my step-brother on the computer, no more then 5 feet away on the computer chair with a blanket d****d over him. He started to speak while looking into the reflection of the.