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God was now around twelve years old. Her head was buzzed on one side, her hair was died black, and she was wearing very androgynous eye liner. She was moping around, saying “nothing means anything,” and “this is all stupid,” all the while, sending asteroids into planets and causing supernovas next to solar systems. I hit my grunge years pretty hard, God sighed, I was looking for an identity, and needed someone to bounce my new feelings off of. So, I created a sister. Twelve-year-old God. It was extremely uncomfortable to have to do itand, worse, to be watched while they did. At the same time, theyactually were sharing the juices from their licking. They wereinstructed to touch each other, tease each others' nipples, and play witheach others' balls. They couldn't stop blushing. Their chastity tubesstood up from the semi-erect state of the flesh inside them."You know," Myra said thoughtfully, "I think these sissies aren't tryinghard enough." It's true," Amy said with a nod,. I was after a towel since the other bathroom had run out of its supply. That was a common occurrence when my sister, Sissy, happened to take a bath before me. Admittedly, she has beautiful long blonde hair, but it takes three, sometimes four, towels to get it dry enough to suit her.Barging in on Mom while she was soaking in her bubble bath was not a shocking event in this household. She was usually covered all the way up to her chin in the suds so nothing revealing was there to be seen. Today,. But it is my face I am looking at, my face under the slight makeup thatthey had applied. How can I, a boy, look like a girl? It scared me that Icould look... look so feminine. The changes so slight and I look like agirl.Some of it is my own fault I freely admit to that. I had grown my hairout, refusing to get it cut. I had grown it out as long as it was in avain attempt to fit in with a skate boarding group I wanted to be a partof. I had seen myself as a tough guy even though that wasn't the.
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