My name is Emily, and I am what you would call a ‘futanari’.

A girl with both a penis and a vagina, both being functional genitalia.

While I cannot tell you how this occurred, I can tell you that whatever happened most definitely caused me to be a late bloomer, and while my mother wondered it was a wonderful opportunity to witness my peers go through their first periods and develop breasts before I did, I wondered it was a curse and gave me feelings of failure and negative self-comparison towards myself. The other developing women, while it wasn’t their fault, became the subject of my interest. This caused me to become obsessed with the female body. Doing all the research I could, having a fully mature woman body became the most crucial part of my life. I could tell what size anyone’s bra size was, just by looking at the breasts they were holding back. I got so into it, that I could also predict a woman’s personality based on their clothing choices. This obsession eventually changed my view of women completely and I became a lesbian, although I never told anyone.

I began to develop my penis at the age of 13. It began life as my clitoris, and at first, I wondered the new growth was the beginning of my journey into puberty. Although, two months later I realized that it didn’t quite add up. I hadn’t told anyone about it, so I brought it up to my mother. She was mortified and took me straight to the local Dr. Rosswell. Dr. Rosswell was an extremely gorgeous woman, with nice legs, a sultry voice, and what looked to be triple E-cup size breasts. No wonder she was trendy with the men. Dr. Rosswell couldn’t stop staring at my unconventional appendage as she stood me up and did an inspection. I had just developed my first testicle, and she looked at me with complete utter confusion. She looked so beautiful biting on her pen, trying to contact and consult with her colleagues. This is when I discovered my love for orgasming.

My mother had just stepped out to go fret in the waiting room, and I didn’t mean to do it, but I reached down to readjust myself when I brushed the 1 1/2 inch penis. It had felt nice, so I rubbed it again. Dr. Rosswell had dropped her pen, and reached down to grab it, and at the same time I shivered. Her nice plump butt had stretched her leggings to the breaking point, and it revealed her underwear. Having an unconditional love for the female physique, especially for a well-developed one such as Dr. Rosswell’s, my penis throbbed for the first time. I looked down in shock, and it had begun to expand. It got to around 3 inches, when it stopped.

I had put it all together in that moment. I was having an erection. I was extremely confused and scared at the same time. Questions like ‘Isn’t this something that boys do?’ and ‘Why is this happening to me?’ and “Damn, why is Dr. Rosswell so hot?” were zooming through my head. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to hide it from the doctor. I didn’t know how, so I grabbed my penis, not knowing how good it would feel. My brain shut off, and I succumbed to the feeling of my extremity. The clitoris nerve endings still existed within my penis, so as I was rubbing, it felt as if I was fingering myself (which I had never done at that point).

Dr. Rosswell was deep in wondered, dialing everyone she wondered would help. She didn’t notice me jerking off to her and began to stretch. Her arms went up, she spun around on the chair and at that moment, I imagined Dr. Rosswell’s shirt buttons breaking and letting those gorgeous knockers loose. She noticed me, and at that moment I came for the first time. My small testicle hadn’t produced much, but my vagina squirted all over the examination room table and floor.

Dr. Rosswell only froze and stared at what had just gone down. My mother walked in, saw the chaos and screamed. The orderlies in the clinic dragged her out, but I don’t remember if they saw or not.

I was in love. Not only with Dr. Rosswell, but with the feeling. The aftershocks hit me like a truck, and I collapsed onto the table, writhing in pleasure. The doctor stood up, grabbed some gloves and began to inspect me. My small body was rolling, and my penis had shrunk considerably, but I was leaking juices everywhere. She grabbed by hand and held it for a few minutes and calmed me down using her soothing voice.

A few minutes later, the orgasm was over, and what I would learn is referred to as ‘post-nut clarity’ kicked in. I got depressed and began apologizing over and over. Dr. Rosswell would continuously tell me it was ok, but that I needed to remember what happened so she could record it down. I told her everything that had happened, minus the details regarding her and being a lesbian, and the doctor wrote it down. She helped me get dressed, as I was weak after my orgasm, and called for my mother.

The car ride home was quiet, other than my mother’s very apparent sobbing. She was embarrassed, and I didn’t know how to talk to her about it.

I asked her, but there was no reply.

I asked her again, but there was no reply.

On the verge of tears, I told her that I didn’t know what to do. And that I’d never done that before.

She told me, in that serious but still loving mom voice, that no matter what happens, she would still love me. She obviously didn’t have any clue what was going on, but I still asked her what was going on with me, and that I hadn’t known what had just happened. I knew what had gone down, because it wasn’t like I hadn’t gone through puberty classes at college, although I needed to hear something reassuring. I got the true ‘talk’, right then and there. Driving down the suburb road towards our home. Both sexes too, I guess my mom was prepared for whether I was a boy or a girl when I was born. Turns out, I guess I might’ve been both.