The Beast and the Butterfly

*** It is the express intent of the author that all characters in this work are fictional and in no way represent actual people and that they should be interpreted to be over the age of 18. ***

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Chapter 1

The graduation party had been fun. Our small school had made a deal with 'Pizza Planet, Fun and Games', our only local high school hangout, for an all-you can eat pizza party with unlimited video and arcade games for as long as we could last or 2 AM, whichever came first. I don't know what they were paying the girl behind the counter, but she deserved more. I bailed on my classmates at about midnight leaving the last few hours to the true hardliners.

The walk home in the warm night air was nice. There was nobody on the streets but me and I used the time to muse over what might be next. I had graduated second in my class with straight A's and a passion for "all things science"; that and cross-country running. The state university offered me room, board, and tuition, both for my grades and for my meet times. With my parents help, I wouldn't have to work, unless I wanted to.

I was looking forward to what the fall had to bring and doing the whole college thing. I was also looking forward to doing pretty much nothing all summer in preparation for it.

The key was under the flower pot by the back door, where it always was, which was kind of funny because everybody in town knew where it was. I sometimes wondered why my parents even had locks on the doors. I unlocked the door, put the key back and made my way into the family room where my mom was asleep on the couch. I knew she would wait up for me or try to. She always did.

I picked up my diploma from the floor where she had dropped it and opened it;

Charles Everet Baxter

Magna Cum Laude

Fort Reading High School

Class of 2018

I smiled and put the diploma on the coffee table.

I heard my dad snoring from their bedroom and knew all was well in the Baxter house, so I kissed my mom on the forehead, whispered 'I Love You, Mom', pulled her blanket up around her shoulders and headed upstairs to my room. I knew my parents would let me sleep in the next morning and was looking forward to enjoying the guilty pleasure.

Ahhh, the joys of summer...

I stripped down to my jockey shorts, putting my clothes in the hamper, quickly brushed my teeth and paused for a minute to take stock of myself in the mirror. It had become a kind of nightly ritual. I had hit puberty late but was average height at just under 6" and not too developed. My thin physique was actually perfect for running. My doctor said I could probably expect another small growth spurt and should easily hit 6'1" or 6'2". I wasn't too worried about it.

My features were softer than most of the guys I knew, and I kept my hair long, just off my shoulders. It gave me a slightly effeminate look, but the girls found it attractive and that annoyed the football players and that meant, I liked it. It also helped that the one area I had been blessed with above average stature, was my manhood; seven inches with a nice full mushroom head.

I smiled at my reflection as I slid my hand down to my crotch and fondled myself for a few seconds debating weather or not I wanted to jack off, decided it could wait until morning when I would have the advantage of that glorious 'morning wood'. I ran my fingers through my hair, smiled at myself in the mirror, turned off the light and crawled into bed. I was asleep before I knew it.

Chapter 2.

My first full day as a high school graduate dawned without fanfare and without me, as I was still sound asleep. When I finally opened my eyes, sunlight filled my room and I could hear birds singing and the kids next door playing through my open window. I rolled onto my back and slid my hand down to my crotch vaguely remembering thoughts of jacking off from the night before. The 'morning wood' had delivered. My cock was more than ready. It was rock-hard and huge.

I pulled the covers back stripped off my shorts and smiled at The Beast, as I called him. As usual, my mouth watered as I began to fondle my cock. My balls felt swollen. I knew they were full and aching for release.

This was going to be amazing. I just knew it.

I started slowly exploring my cock as if I had never seen or touched one before, running my finger lightly around the tip a and moving slowly down its length to lightly grip its base. I moved my hand up the full length of my cock and back down taking my time to enjoy the sensation as if it were not really my hand or perhaps, not my cock that was in play. I tightened my grip slightly and began to stroke feeling the beginning twinges of arousal and excitement telling me what was to come.

I let the pressure build and build, stopping just short of letting myself cum once and then twice before I decided I didn't want to, couldn't wait any longer. I upped my pace in eager anticipation of seeing what this beast would do this morning. It was time. I clenched, trying to hold the orgasm for just one more second, let out an audible moan of pleasure and exploded.

The first shots gave me an admirable facial, covering my nose and cheek with gooey liquid. The next hit me square in the mouth and the last few covered my chest and stomach with glistening cream. I had never in my life had an orgasm like that.

I swallowed the cum in my mouth and licked a little from my upper lip as it dripped off my nose. Reaching down under my bed, I found the old T-shirt I used for just this reason and wiped the remaining cum from my face. I had tasted my own juice before, once on purpose and a few times on accident, like what had just happened, and it wasn't that bad.

I looked at the warm pool on my stomach and decided it could wait until I was sure The Beast was finished playing. Right now, he was standing as erect as ever between my legs, demanding my attention. My fingers traced circles in the sticky mess on my chest and stomach spreading it across my torso as I planned my next attack on the mighty Beast.

This was normal for me as I sometimes had to cum two or three times to get the Beast to give up. I had a feeling this morning was going to be one of those days. I smiled at the thought. I enjoyed masturbating and I always came in large amounts, it was just a bit of a challenge to find new and interesting ways to get myself off.

I opted for something I had only done, successfully, once before. Licking the cum from my fingers, I pulled my legs up over my head and tried to get the head of my cock into my mouth. Fortunately, I was very limber and with a little adjusting and a few extra pillows in key places, I managed to get my lips around the bulging head of my erection. Using my left hand on my lower back, I pushed down and got about another inch.

I fondled my balls feeling them become warm and full again. I began stroking and soon found a rhythm with my right hand on my cock, my left pushing on my back, and my mouth and lips caressing as much of The Beast as they could get. My tongue twirled and licked my glans and I could feel the energy and the pressure grow.

I had discovered on one other occasion, that I liked the feeling of a cock in my mouth. It being mine probably had a lot to do with it. The feeling of a mouth and tongue on my cock was decidedly something I really liked as well. I pushed a little harder on my back and tried to relax, focusing on getting The Beast just a little further into my mouth while my lips and tongue continued their dance around my glans.

My right hand was methodically moving up and down my shaft. I could feel the pressure building. There was no holding The Beast back this time. Arching my neck and moving my right hand to my back, I pressed my cock even further into my mouth as he spewed seed deep into my throat. I swallowed with each spurt, enjoying everything about what I was doing.

The first time I had done this, I had worried a bit about whether it made me gay but had quickly come to the conclusions that, 1. Probably not since I wasn't really attracted to other boys and had only ever played with myself and 2. I really liked girls and at worst, I was bi-sexual. No harm, no foul, so to speak.

My parents had taught me to be open and accepting, so whatever the case, I knew they wouldn't care and couldn't love me more and wouldn't love me any less. They were just that way and I knew they would always be there for me. No matter what happened.

I slowly released the pressure on my back and allowed my cock to slip just out of my mouth. Using my hand, I squeezed the last drops of cum into my waiting mouth and gently kissed the tip of my cock before I collapsed into and exhausted smile.

The Beast stood ever defiant at his post.

I decided that a cold shower was next. I was getting hungry for real food and I could not go down stairs with The Beast leading the way. I started with a warm shower rinsing the cum from my body. Once I was clean, I turned the water to cold hoping it would do the trick. I even flicked him with my finger as hard as I could and slapped him on the faucet in the bathtub.

Nothing was working. The Beast just wouldn't go away.

Last ditch effort, I was going to go for it one more time, making it last as long as I could and beat the sucker into submission.

I turned the water off and filled my hand with shampoo. Laying on the floor of the tub, I gripped The Beast and went to work. I was meticulous with my technique. I got to the very edge and backed off time and time again until my balls felt as if they were literally going to explode and then backed off again. I could feel the pressure building and building but kept the Beast at bay for a full half hour.

When I finally released, it was different. Something felt wrong, very wrong. It didn't feel good, in fact, it hurt, a lot. There was a bloody mess all over my stomach, my ball sack was swollen and had turned black.

The damn Beast was still standing there between my legs.

"Mommy!" I cried at the top of my lungs. I hadn't called her 'Mommy' in years. I heard her frantic footsteps running up the stairs and saw the look on her face as she found me in the tub.

"Oh, Charlie, what happened?" Her eyes wild with motherly concern.

"It won't go down and there's blood and it hurts." I whimpered

"Ben!" I heard her scream just before I passed out.

Chapter 3.

I have the best parents on the planet. My mom worries about everything like mom's are supposed to but not in a helicopter sort of way. She is always there for me and, most importantly, believes in me when almost no one else does. She is always the first one there to pick me up when I fall. My dad is a rock. I swear nothing fazes him. He is a man of few words but when he speaks, people listen.

Even the famous 'talk' all dad's give their sons when they get to 'that age', only took about five minutes with my dad; "1. You're becoming a man, act like it, take responsibility for your actions. 2. Women are to be respected. Do your best to wait to have sex. If you can't, always use protection. ALWAYS was strongly implied to be all-caps. 3. Masturbation is no big deal. Keep it to yourself and for heaven's sake, don't use your mom's good towels to clean it up. Got it?"

"Yes sir." was the only acceptable answer. I swear it was like he had a power point with bullet points or something.

They were both there when I woke up. My mom was sitting next to my bed holding my hand, her eyes red with tears. My dad was in the chair across the room pretending to read the paper. My crotch was still sore but not the searing pain I remembered. More of a dull ache, like the day after Tommy Ryan kicked me in the balls at football practice.

"Mom, where are we?" I asked quietly.

"We're in the hospital, Charlie." She stifled more tears. What followed was a long stream of apologies and assurances that everything was going to be OK, my mom at her best.

My dad put down the paper he had been 'reading' and walked up behind my mom, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. "Hey sport. You gave us quite the scare there. How you feeling?"

I always knew my dad loved me more than anything except my mom, but this was so out of character for him, I just knew something was really bad.

"Kinda woozy, and thirsty. Can I get something to drink?" I whispered. My throat was sore, too.

"No problem champ, I'll go get the nurse." And he walked out of the room, I'm pretty sure it was as much to get the nurse as it was, he didn't want me to see him crying. His eyes were just as red as my mom's.

I had the feeling I was totally screwed, and it was not a good thing. My mind raced with all the possibilities as I drifted back to what had happened. I remembered waking up and masturbating and the shower and the defiance of The Beast and then the blood and the pain. "Mom, what happened to me? Am I really going to be OK?"

"Yes honey. We got you here I time. The doctors fixed everything up for you. It's, well, maybe it's better if I let the doctor explain when she gets here. You just rest now. OK?" She squeezed my hand and leaned over to kiss me on the forehead.

"I love you, mom." was all I could think to say.

She smiled at me and squeezed my hand again. "Just remember I will always be here for you. Your dad too. No matter what." She kissed me again.

"I know mom. Thanks." And I drifted off to sleep again.

I woke up a few hours later to find a small pitcher of water and a plastic cup with a straw in it next to my bed. My mom and dad were across the room talking to a woman I guessed was my doctor, the lab coat and stethoscope were the biggest clues. A nurse was checking my vitals and making notes on her tablet.

I think I startled her when I reached for the cup of water because she jumped and let out a small muffled scream which made her blush bright red. I tried not to laugh and got a big smile from her in return. "Hi there." She said. Her name was Anne and I liked her immediately.

I was still giggling to myself as she turned to the doctor, "Patients awake Dr. Mitchell." Anne smiled at me again, winked and moved over to make room for Dr. Mitchell. My muffled laugh started again, and Anne blushed, again. Dr. Mitchell looked at both of us a little confused.

"Well Charly, it's been a rough couple of days. You're lucky you got here when you did or things could have gotten really bad." She started.

"Days? So, what exactly happened to me anyway?" My voice was starting to quiver with nervous anxiety.

"Long version or short?" she asked.

"Short." I half pleaded.

Dr. Mitchell's bedside manner was amazing. She sat next to me and held my hand, looked me straight in the eyes and told me to let her know if it got to be too much. She could always stop and explain in more detail later. I told her it was OK. I could handle whatever it was. I had no idea.

The short version was not really that short and was full of terms like blood clot, abscess, rupture, infection, sepsis, septic shock, radical measures, surgery, lifesaving, reassignment. My mind reeled trying to grasp the meaning of what she was saying to me. Wait a minute... surgery, reassignment, "Reassignment Surgery!" Holy crap!

My hand moved toward my crotch not wanting to know what I would find or wouldn't find. The collection of bandages was smooth. I lifted the blanket and looked. It reminded me of one of my mom's sanitary napkins I had seen in her bathroom because, well, that's what it was. I froze. It hit me like a ton of bricks. The Beast was gone!

I started mumbling incoherently, "What? How? Why? No, you... What? Why? You..." I looked past Dr. Mitchell to see the look on my parents' faces. My pain was theirs. I could feel the blood draining from my face. Now I understood what they couldn't tell me, what they wanted the Dr. to explain.

"Mom? Dad? Did you... How? Why?" I just started crying. It was my mom's turn to be the rock as she came and sat beside me, wrapping me in her arms and holding me tight. My dad came and sat on the other side of the bed where Dr. Mitchell had been. He just held my hand and cried with me. Anne and Dr. Mitchell left us alone to deal with the overwhelming expanse of emotions as a family.

It had taken over two hours of crying and trying to talk and explaining before I fully understood what Dr. Mitchell had told me. A small blood clot had formed and the very base of my penis, probably due to some trauma (damn you Tommy Ryan). It is what had given The Beast his incredible stamina. It had gotten infected, formed an abscess, and finally ruptured when I over exerted myself spreading the infection throughout my penis and into my scrotum. I had gone into septic shock and almost died.

The only option was to take it all out and treat what was left with heavy doses of IV antibiotics. Dr. Mitchell had given my parents options about my future and what they thought would be my best chance for a somewhat normal life after the surgery.

Always the pragmatist, it was my dad's decision to go with the reassignment surgery. He joked that his logic had been, "As much as I enjoyed masturbating, I should at least still be able to do that and, who knows, I might even come up with a silly name for my new vagina, too." I actually found it funny and, oddly enough, it helped.

As if on cue, Dr. Mitchell and Anne came back in the room. Anne had some nice damp towels we all used to wash the tear stains from our faces and Dr. Mitchell reclaimed her seat at my side from my dad who pretended he needed to go to the bathroom anyway.

"So, I'm guessing you have a lot of questions. Right? The genuine concern in her eyes reminded me of the way my mom looked at me when she knew I was hurting and really didn't want to talk about it like when April Summers ha stood me up for junior prom.

"I'm sorry if I was too abrupt but I really don't know how you could prepare for something like this anyway. It was going to be hard on you no matter how we told you." She sat quietly for a few moments while I tried to organize the million and ten questions racing through my mind.

We spent the next hour and a half going over the details of what she had done and why it had to be done. How things would work after I healed and what I was going to need to do to keep things working properly. Dr. Mitchell told me she strongly recommended an aggressive hormone therapy as it would not only make me appear more feminine, it would make me feel more feminine and that would be important in the long run. "It just helps when everything matches." was how she put it.

I pretended to understand and nodded in agreement. I still couldn't believe what was happening and wondered if I was just caught in a really bad dream. Maybe I would wake up and my mom would be calling me down for breakfast. Maybe I would wake up and go for a nice long run. Maybe... My hand returned to my crotch and I felt the nothing where The Beast had been. I saw my parents faces and I knew I wasn't going to wake up from any dream, this was all real, very, very real.

The tears began to well in my eyes again and I rolled over onto my side putting my back to the room. "I think I just want to be alone for a while."

Dr. Mitchell, my mom and dad left me to my thoughts.

Anne was the only one to say anything. "Just press the red button when you need something, OK?"

I didn't answer.

She followed the others out the door, closing it behind her.

Chapter 4

I was in the hospital for the next seven days and Anne was a godsend. She was the charge nurse and ran the whole recovery ward. She stopped in frequently to check on me and to make sure her nurses were taking proper care of her favorite patient. She and I had clicked immediately when we first met, I still giggled when I though about her muffled scream. I looked forward to her visits. Sometimes she would just sit and talk with me about what I called, girl stuff. I imagined this is what it would have been like to have a big sister. More than anyone else, Anne made me more and more comfortable with the change I was experiencing.