He couldn’t quite pronounce ‘Nicole’. So he called me Nickles. Even after he could say it right, he called me that for a long time.”“And he ...alled you that?”“Yes, when we were in his bed. I asked him to. I don’t know why.”“You asked him to do that, while you were...”“Mm-hm. I had my hand on his slippery dick and I was getting ready to make him cum a second time. And it popped into my head. So I said, ‘Call me Nickles‘. And he did.”“That’s actually pretty cute. How did it feel to have him call. I wasn't going to let himsee me do that. I had done my best, which he himself had said was,"magnificent", yet he still didn't trust me enough to be myself. I shut thedoor and locked it, then looked in the mirror. Was I the girl I thought Iwas? Or was I just a sad parody of a girl? Maybe I was neither, or maybeboth. A boy that desperately wanted to be a girl, someone that looked likea girl, loved being a girl, wanted to be my fathers daughter, but wasn't,and from what I heard, it didn't sound to. More

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