Anger

"Oh I get it. Very funny," she says with scorn. Then, shouting to upstairs: "This is a stupid joke John. Real nice way to introduce your new slut to me. What's your name princess? What did he do to get you to play along with this?"

You sit down heavily on the stairs, and put your face in your hands.

"I don't know," you murmur.

"What did you say?"

"I don't know what my name is... I mean... It was John before today," she snorts at this. "It's really me, Gwen. But something really fucking weird is going on and this morning I woke up... like this."

You venture a look at her face - which is clearly unimpressed - and realize that you're already crying again.

"Gwen, I'm serious. It's me! I'm your... brother. Ask me something that only I could know." She snorts again, but you can see she's softening. And trying to think of something.

"God why am I playing along with this... Ok... 'Bro'. What colour were the stables at Gran and Pop's old place?"

"Before or after the tornado?" And then, without missing a beat, "Blue before and white after." Her eyes go wide.

"Okay that's just creepy. He might have guessed I'd ask that one... it is kinda obvious." You roll your eyes at her.

"Fine if that's obvious hit me again," and then under your breath, "talk about high standards..."

You can see she's thinking really hard, obviously trying to decide whether or not to say something.

"Alright screw it. What age were you when you started spying on me getting dressed?"

"Whaaat?!" You're gobsmacked. Your sneaky peeking at her had only lasted a couple of your teenage years and was your most shameful secret."You knew about that? Fuck I thought you never knew. Ohmygod I'm sor-"

"What age?" She interrogates with an arched eyebrow.

"Uhhh... fourteen. And I stopped two years later when Mom almost caught me. I'm so sorry Gwen... I was just a stupid horny teenager."

"Now that I do believe. You'd never tell anyone that just to pull some stupid prank... And I know - stupid horny teenager is exactly the phrase I would choose to describe you." She looks you over. "So.... shit. You really are John. And now you're... this. I never believed this could be possible."

You are looking up at her, still standing. You can feel the tears drying on your cheeks, but yet more threaten to come as you realize you might just about have Gwen on your side now. She drops to her knees on the step below you, face level with yours, and just... looks at you. Really looks.

"You still have the same eyes. Those are definitely my brother's eyes. Holy shit man, look at you! This is the real deal isn't it?" She's squeezing and pinching your arms, your legs, even inspecting your fingers and your toes.

She laughs, "Christ John at least your nails are fucking perfect. They're better than mine! God, it's like your body hasn't been lived in at all! Let me see..." and she continues her investigation. Nothing if not curious, before long she's jabbing and squeezing your boobs, shushing your yelps of embarrassment which are starting to sound suspiciously excited...

"Stop! Enough Gwen!" You push her away firmly. There's a burning in your cheeks and your slightly panting voice is unsteady. "I'm not used to this at all. Not used to... those feelings. And certainly not used to you having your hands all over me!"

"Oh calm down you prude. If you want my help I need to understand what you're dealing with. Besides, I'm just poking and prodding - nothing to get excited about."

"No, Gwen, I'm serious - what you were just doing was -"

"What?"

"Uhhh. It was getting me really hot. Like, every touch felt good. Really good. Even the prods and jabs. That's not normal, right?"

Gwen smirks. "You mean like this?" She straight up grabs your left tit, and not at all gently. You gasp and let out a groan as you attempt to bat her hand away.

"Hahaha, no that's certainly not normal missy." She steps back and looks at you appraisingly. "Soooo... you've got a flawless fresh new body, great tits, and the slightest touch gets you going. Jesus bro, you've hit the fucking jackpot!"

"How can you say that," you wail, "I'm a guy! I've always been a guy! This isn't supposed to happen! And... and..."

Your throat drys up as you try to bring out the words that will explain the rest of your situation.