Chapter 1

Hi, my name is Penelope (Penny) McNally and I’m 19. I grew up in a children’s home and it’s fair to say that when my age went into double digits I was a terror. I used to make life miserable for the other kids and was forever getting into trouble. I was one angry girl, not that I knew why, I was just angry.

Then my carers got me to start taking a tablet every day telling me that it was to help make my periods less painful. That was one time that I didn’t argue with them and I started taking them. Shortly after that day I realised that I wasn’t as angry as I usually was, and as the weeks went by I became a ‘good’ girl. In fact my grades at school improved and over the next few months I actually made friends with some of the other kids at school and in the home.

Over the months one thing that I did notice was that my body wasn’t developing like the other girls my age were. In fact I stopped growing taller (I’m still only 140 cm tall) and my periods stopped. I talked to the carers about my lack of development but all they would tell me was that girls developed at different ages and to not worry, my turn would come.

As I got older I often got embarrassed and jealous by my underdeveloped body when I compared myself to classmates. I was the one wearing little girl’s clothes and no bra whereas the other girls were wearing the usual teenage girl’s clothes, and bras.

You see, when I started taking those pills my breasts had grown to an ‘AA’ cup with nice eraser nipples and my pussy had developed a bit, my clit had grown and was sticking out between my outer labia but my inner labia hadn’t started to grow. My pussy was like the proverbial coin slot but with my clit sticking out near the front.

But shortly after I started taking those pills my body didn’t develop any further and I just accepted what my carers told me and hoped that I would catch up as I got older.

When I got to be 18 I had to move out of the children’s home. Fortunately the authorities found me a job, working in a supermarket, and somewhere to live, a small bedsit not far from the supermarket. The job pay was lousy but it was enough to pay my rent and have enough to pay for enough food and have a little left over.

On the day that I moved out my carers gave me the rest of the pack of pills that I had been taking every day and when I asked how I could get some more they told me that I wouldn’t need them, that their work was done, that I’d become a good girl.

Not understanding that I decided to find out why I wouldn’t need them and when I had some time off work I went to the local library and used a computer to search for the name of the drug, Puericil-G.

What I discovered alarmed me. I quickly discovered why my body hadn’t developed like other girls had, one of the things that the drug did was to inhibit puberty, not only stop it, but in some things reverse it. This explained why my periods had stopped and why the little breasts, that I had when I was told to start to take the drug, hadn’t grown any bigger.

What alarmed me more was that now that I had stopped taking those damned pills it was very unlikely that my body would ever start to develop like all other girls. The only good thing that I read was that my sexual desires would develop to be the same as any other girl’s and that my body would enjoy sexual relations. But my periods would never start and I would never be able to bear children.

I kept reading and came across girls who had been in a similar situation to me and the reports said that they had gone on to have a very happy sexual life.

“At least it’s not all bad news.” I thought.

I left that library stunned. I just couldn’t understand why my carers would have done that to me. They had ruined my life. I would never look like a normal woman and I could never have kids. Some of that anger that I used to have came back.

It took me a couple of days to calm down. Two days during which I had made a few mistakes at work and got into trouble. I started looking for a lawyer. My life had been ruined and someone was going to pay.

I started reading about court cases to form an opinion about the lawyers involved and made a shortlist of lawyers that I wanted to talk to. Then, during a couple of lunch breaks I made some phone calls until I found a lawyer that said that he could help me.

I arranged a meeting and took what money that I had with me, a whole £55. When I walked into the lawyer’s reception I was asked if my parents would be long.

“That’s my problem,” I said, “I’m 18 and look at me. Someone is going to pay and I need a good lawyer to make sure that it happens.”

That confused the woman a little but she ushered me into her boss’ office.

The lawyer, Mr. Marshall, looked at me as if to say,

“Where’s your parents little girl?”

Without being asked I sat at the visitor’s chair and started to tell him my story. Of course I used the proper names for my body parts not wanting to embarrass him or me and he just sat there listening to me. At the end of my story I got out my £55 put it on the desk in front of him and said,

“This is all that I’ve got, can you help me?”

Mr. Marshall just stared at me for quite a few seconds then said,

“That’s quite some story Penelope. Normally I would have taken your money and told you that I’d send you a bill for the rest of what you owe me for just listening to you, but in this case you can keep your money and I will be happy to take your case on a ‘no win, no fee’ basis.”

“So can you make them pay for what they’ve done to me?”

“Well, from what you’ve told me suing your cares alone would be a waste of time and money because they appear to have nothing. However, I’m sure that this Puericil-G drug will not be on the authorities list of authorised medication therefore your carers should not have given it to you. We can jointly sue your carers and the council. I need to do some research on the effect of this drug so that we can add emotional stress and maybe some other things onto the list of complaints, but all being well Penelope you will become a rich young woman.”

“Thank you Mr. Marshall, and you say that it will cost me nothing because that money on your desk is all that I have.”

“Nothing Penelope, but there are a couple of things that I would recommend you doing, get yourself a passport and learn to drive. Both those documents are good for proving your age.”

“I will, when I have some money. Thanks again Mr. Marshall.”

“Oh, one more thing, at some point you will need to have a medical examination just to ascertain the true extent of the damage that has been done to you. Would that be a problem Penelope?”

“No, not at all.”

As I headed back to my little bedsit some of that anger had gone and I started to wonder what form the doctor’s examination would take. It had been years since I saw a doctor and bearing in mind what I had read about Puericil-G I guessed that the examination would be quite intimate. I was a virgin and by the looks of my body I was going to remain that way for the rest of my life, I mean, what man would want to go out with a girl who looked like she was just starting puberty?

I was slightly elated when I left the lawyers but I didn’t get my hopes up too much because I’d read many stories where a lawyer had promised the earth and then let their client down before giving them a big bill. At least I wouldn’t be getting a bill.

Anyway, my life went on as normal as working in a supermarket then going home and watching the television could be and I was starting to think that I’d wasted my time going to a lawyer when I got a phone call on my cheap, second-hand mobile phone asking me to go to a private hospital for an examination.

I’ll happily admit that I was quite nervous as I walked to the hospital and then got directed to an area where a nurse told me to take my clothes off and put on one of those silly gowns that I’d seen on the television. Then she weighed me, measured my height then took my blood pressure.

Finally, she stuck a needle into my arm and withdrew what looked like a lot of blood.

Next the nurse led me to a different part of the hospital for a CT scan. As we walked there I could feel the back of the gown flapping about and wondered if my bare butt was visible to other people there.

After the scan the nurse led me back to the waiting room where my basket of clothes still was, and again I looked at the normally dressed people and wondered what they were thinking about me. There were some men there and I have to admit that them looking at me made me feel good. I’d come to the conclusion that no man would be interested in a girl who looked like the was just reaching puberty.

After a lifetime which was probably only about 30 minutes, I was called into a doctor’s office where he asked me tons of questions about me, my body, my feelings, my sexual urges and my hopes for the future. Then is was questions about what I wanted for myself.

“To look like and function like normal girls.”

The doctor smiled then asked me to take the gown off and let him examine me.

I stood there, totally naked, in front of the man while he listened to my chest with his stethoscope. Then he told me to go and climb onto the examination couch where he examined me from head to toes including prodding and poking my tiny tits and nipples. When he got to my pussy he poked and prodded all around it then told me to lift my legs up onto the stirrup things.

My pussy was spread wide open and I was embarrassed.

“Relax Penelope, I’m not going to hurt you.”

I felt the doctor’s fingers all over my pussy then he said,

“You’re still a virgin Penelope.”

“Who would want to make love to a girl with a body like this?” I replied.

The doctor smiled. Then he surprised me, his finger found my clit and started rubbing.

“Oh, oh,” I said, “why are you doing that?”

“I need to test your response to stimulation Penelope.”

“Oh, oh, please don’t, you’ll make me cum.

“Precisely, just relax and don’t fight it Penelope.”

I didn’t and I did cum, something that I’d only experienced a few times years ago and only under the covers of my bed.

“Okay Penelope, you’ll be pleased to hear that the examination is over and you may now get dressed.”

Dressed and sat back on his visitor’s chair he said,

“Well Penelope, I have to say that you are the first girl that I have seen who has taken Puericil-G and your case is interesting. You’ll be pleased to hear that physically you are perfectly healthy albeit with an under-developed body. Even if we can’t kick-start you puberty there is no reason why you can’t live a long and sexually satisfying life.”

“But what man would want a girlfriend that looks like a pre-puberty girl? They’d forever be getting stopped by the police and accused of being a paedophile.”

“There are a few things that can cosmetically enhance parts of your body that will help you to look older but let’s not worry about those at the moment, my first priority is to get your blood tests back and compile a report for your lawyer.”

“Are you saying that all these ‘enhancements’ will cost money, money that I don’t have?”

“Unfortunately yes, but let’s not worry about that now. You are a healthy young woman and that is the most important thing. When I send my report to your lawyer I’ll send a copy to you.”

Assuming that that was his way of telling me that the examination was over I got up, thanked him and left. As I was going home I thought about what the doctor had said and what he had done to me. I was very pleased that at least I could still have an orgasm. The long period of taking the drug hadn’t killed that pleasure.

Life went on as normal for the next few weeks until I finally got a letter containing a copy of the doctor’s report. Most of it was in medical gobbledegook that I had to go to the library and lookup but my interpretation of the results was: -

Under-developed Breasts. Nipples appear to be slightly larger than average size with normal sensitivity. Body shape that of a pre-teen girl. Under-developed Mons Pubis. No Labia Minora. No evidence of any Pubic Hair Follicles. Clitoris is slightly larger than average and orgasms can be easily achieved with little clitoral stimulation. Ovaries are so small that they are difficult to find and therefore are highly unlikely to ever function normally. The subject is highly unlikely to ever have a menstrual cycle or bear children.

And that didn’t even mention my mental trauma that I was suffering since I realised what had happened to me and that would affect me for the rest of my life.

When I had worked out all of what the letter said I stripped naked and stood in front of a mirror and considered each item on the list. I would have cried except that when I touched my nipples and clit I actually felt good. Feeling good and at the same time being upset by all the bad things is a very strange feeling.

I fell asleep a very mixed up girl.

It was about a week before I got a phone call from my lawyer asking me to go and see him and another week before I could get an appointment. When I was finally sat at the other side of his desk he told me that I had a very good case and that I should expect to get a substantial payment from the council.

Not really trusting lawyers and working on the principle of ‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ I just replied,

“Good.”

Even when he told me that it was clear case of using an illegal drug on a minor that had resulted in a catastrophic effect on a young girl’s life, that the council could have no possible defence and would have to admit guilt’ I was very sceptical that I would get much, if any, compensation. And if I did it would take months, even years, to get it.

I left his office wondering if it had all been worth it.

Three months later I walked into a court room and saw my carers for the first time in over a year, and they didn’t look happy. The first words that my carer said to me were,

“Why did you have to say anything Penelope? You became an amazing young girl.”

“Don’t answer that Penelope.” Mr. Marshall said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

“Don’t speak to anyone about the case Penelope, well intentioned words can easily be misinterpreted. Oh, I’m pleased to see that you are wearing a summer dress that shows how flat your chest is.”

“It’s the only semi-decent dress that I have.” I replied.

“Well all being well you’ll soon be able to afford designer dresses.”

“I hope so.”

I replied but was still very sceptical then I added,

“I won’t have to take my dress off and show the judge my flat chest or skinny, bald pubes will I?”

“No Penelope, all you have to do is answer a few questions about how you came to have to take the drug.”

Mr. Marshall was right. It was very intimidating but I told them how it was as was relieved when I left the stand. I was even more relieved when about 2 hours later I was awarded nearly two and a half million pounds compensation.

I nearly wet my knickers when the judge said that, and when he said ‘and costs’ I had to ask Mr. Marshall what that meant to me.

I was in a state of shock as Mr. Marshall took me back to his office, sat me down and got someone to get a coffee for me. When I was in a state to understand what he was saying he told me that I should get someone to give me financial advice and he recommended a couple of firms. He then reminded me about what he said about a driving licence and a passport and added that I should use some of the money to buy a house.

I was still a bit stunned when I got home and that night I stared at the TV, not even know what was on, as I ate my beans in toast.

I was still a bit sceptical and unbelieving when I went to work the next day and I told no one about my day off.

I was starting to think that I had dreamt everything because it was another 2 weeks before I heard anything from my lawyer. He asked me to go and see him.

Being the pessimist that I had become I booked an appointment and went to see Mr. Marshall. Imagine my delight when he handed me a cheque for £2.5m made out to me.

“Oh my gawd.” I said, “what do I do with this?”

“Pay it into your bank account Penelope, it’s yours. Have you been to see a financial advisor yet?”

“No, no, I wasn’t totally convinced that I’d need one.”

“Well you do Penelope, do you want me to get one over her right now?”

“Yes please.”

Thirty minutes later I was introduced to a Mr. Bob Hammond. He looked a little surprised when he saw me but he soon got used to my looks.

“Mr. Hammond,” Mr. Marshall said, “is more than a financial advisor Penelope, he has a background in psychology, psychiatry and social studies so I believe that he is ideally suited to offer you advice both financially and socially. Can I ask you to go into the next office where you will be able to talk freely for as long as is necessary.

We did and I spent ages telling Bob Hammond everything about me. Mr. Marshall had given him a copy of the doctor’s medical report which he read then said,

“Penelope, I haven’t come across any other cases of this drug being used but reading the specialist’s report I can assure you that you can lead a rewarding and full life. Okay a few things will be slightly different to what you are expecting but there are alternatives that can be just as rewarding. Surgical procedures are available to change the shape of your body to make you look more ‘womanly’ and believe me, there are lots of men out there that like the little girl look but maybe I’m getting a little ahead of things, you tell me what you want out of life, what will make you happy.”

“Well for starters I do not want to undergo and sort of medical procedures unless they are necessary to save my life. Apart from that I want to lead a life as normal as possible, house, a car, a career, a boyfriend, a sex life.”

“Have you got a job now Penelope?”

“Yes, a crappy job working in a supermarket.”

“Well if you dislike it that much you should hand in your notice as soon as possible. You are not desperate for money now and if you spend wisely you never will.”

“Will you help me with that?”

“Of course I will Penelope that’s what you will be paying me for, but don’t worry, I don’t charge anywhere near as much as lawyers do.”

“So what do I do now?”

“Well, you say that you’re living in a bedsit, I’d suggest that you start looking for a house, not a mansion, just your average house. Think about what you want and in particular the location. Don’t rush into anything, maybe move into a hotel and use that as your base until you find something. You mentioned a car, well you’ll need get a licence and to learn to drive. Do you have your birth certificate?”

“I think so, I think that it’s in the folder of papers that I was given when left the children’s home.”

“Good, apply for a passport as well, both those documents will help you prove your age. You’ll need some professional people as referees and I’m sure that Mr. Marshall will help you with that.”

“So what else should I do straight away?”

“A bank account. I’m guessing that you have one already so that the supermarket can pay you but I’m sure that I can get you a bank account that is better suited to your new financial status. I’ll get you a credit card as well. Those should only take a few days. Have you got a mobile phone?”

“Yes, an old Nokia one.”

“Let me have your number and treat yourself to a new smart phone, the shop will help you transfer your number to the new phone.”

“Anything else?”

“No, well not for now. I suggest that you just chill out for a while, get used to being a millionaire. Here’s my card. Phone me to talk about anything, 24 by 7, I don’t mind being woken in the middle of the night if necessary. Penelope, I want to become your friend, your confidant, as well as your financial advisor. You can talk to me about absolutely anything, and call me Bob, I hate formalities.”

“Okay Bob, thank you.”

I stood and went and kissed Bob on his cheek.

“And don’t worry about anything, as long as you spend sensibly I will see that you never run out of money Penelope.”

“Thank you Bob.”

“You’re welcome Penny, remember, call me to talk about anything.”

I left and when I got outside I just stood on the street. I was shaking and nearly crying because I was so happy.

“Are you okay little girl?” I heard a man say and when I looked up I saw an elderly policeman.

“Are you lost? Have you lost your mother?”

“No, no, I’m fine, I’ve just had a bit of a shock in there.”

“The lawyer’s office?”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”

As I walked I started to come to terms with what had happened and I started to feel good.

“Right,” I thought, “first thing that I’m going to do is get out of that shit-hole of a bedsit, move into a hotel. Shit, which one and how will I pay for it?”

I stopped at a McDonalds, spent most of the cash that I had and bought a Big Mac meal. Then, as I was getting towards the end of it I phoned Bob Hammond.

“Bob, I want to move into a hotel but I don’t know which one and I need some money to pay for it. Even if I take this cheque to the bank now it will take days to clear.”

“Okay Penny, relax, it’s not a problem. I would suggest the Yorkshire Hotel, do you know where that is?”

“Yes, but how am I going to pay for it?”

“Have you got your bank card with you?”

“Yes but there’s no money in my account.”

“Read out the embossed numbers on it.”

I did, Bob read them back to me then said,

“Right Penny, by the time you get to the hotel there will be £10,000 in your account, just give them your card.”

“Ten thousand pounds! Blankety blank.”

“Remember Penny, you’re a millionaire now.”

“Err thanks Bob, this is going to take some getting used to.”

I went back to my bedsit, packed everything into my 1 old suitcase then wrote a note saying that I was moving out and pushed it under the door of the man who looked after the place and left the building for good.

When I got to the hotel I went up to the reception and told them that I wanted a room.

“When will your parents be getting here young lady?”

“Never, I don’t even know who they are. Have you got a room?”

“Yes, but who will pay for it?”

“Me.” I replied and passed the woman my bank card.

She gave me a strange look then did something behind the counter that I couldn’t see. Two minutes later she came back to me and said,

“And how long will Madam be staying with us?”

“I don’t know, it depends on all sorts of things.”

“I’ll leave the booking open-ended Madam.”

Three minutes later I was pulling my case towards the lift. A man in a uniform had offered to help me but I told him that I was okay. Another 3 minutes and I was working out how the card key worked then walking into my first ever hotel room.

It was luxurious, well that’s what I thought at the time, big bed, big window with a partial view over the city and a bathroom that was out of this world, and it was warm in that room. I stripped naked and had the best and longest bath that I had ever had, and that included me playing with my clit and making me cum, something that I didn’t do very often, possibly because of the shit-hole that I lived in, well used to live in. I wondered if I’d be playing with my pussy a lot more from then on.