Your girlfriend is standing side-on from where you are, currently browsing her phone with a look of anxiety on her face. You cross the street to be with her, calling out, "Hey babe! Over here!"
She looks up and smiles, but you notice that she's keeping her body turned away from you. "H-hey," she says, sheepishly.
"Fancy seeing you here," you say, trying to sound confident despite your lessened masculinity. A part of you feels fake, like you're still "pretending" to be a boy. You still are one; you definitely don't feel like a girl, in your mind.
"Yeah, it is. Hey, I was just waiting for a text from one of my girlfriends. We got some bad news a few hours ago and we're all pretty freaked out."
"Great, that's all we need, more bad news. So, spill the beans. My entire school's been de-dicked, I don't think anything could shock me anymore today."
Your girlfriend goes silent at that, and looks back at her phone, which hasn't made a single noise this whole time. She seems to be dodging the question, which is the last thing you'd expect from her. This is the same girl who fucked you raw when she found out it might be the last time you ever could. Now she's pale as a sheet and shakily holding her phone like she's waiting for her mom to pick her up from a dodgy part of town.
After half a minute she responds, "It's about that, actually. My friends are pretty freaked out by the whole thing."
"Well it's not exactly a new procedure, and the girls have it easy, they just have to go without dick for a while. Right?"
She's silent, looking around for anything and anyone to change the topic to.
You tap your foot as you try to figure out what she's so nervous about. "Is your friend trans? We go to different schools, so I probably don't know them."
"No!" she answers suddenly. "I mean yes, technically, or, but you don't know them, I mean..."
Your girlfriend puts her phone away and rubs her own arms, trying to build up her courage. A sinking feeling gathers in your gut as you begin to work out what's going on.
"Turns out," she says, "that our school changed the procedure this year to be a little... different. School board didn't like that the procedure was making sports numbers drop, and someone found a sponsor to change things up a little bit." She turns to face you fully, and your suspicions are confirmed as you see a long, just-discernable bulge in her jean leg.
"Whoa," you say, trying to wrap your head around this. "That's... that's the real thing, huh?" Your voice falters a bit, and you realize you've been subconsciously crossing your legs in a way that boys should not be able to.
"Yep," is all she can manage.
You dig around in your brain for something supportive to say, coming up with, "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm not okay! I get called into school on short notice and they took my pussy away and replaced it with this thing!" she yells for all the neighborhood to hear, outlining her freshly-minted manhood with her hands. "I come home and changed into some of my old jeans to try and feel normal again but now I feel even worse and..." she trails off, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.
"No, I get it, babe. It'll be okay. Your friends said anything?"
"No, I think they're all staying home and moping but I just don't want to be alone..."
You feel an emotion pushing up your throat and in a bout of inspiration, you say, "I'll stay with you babe. We'll figure this out, okay?" You reach out to hug her, which she shakily returns. You're dimly aware that she's a few inches taller than you, both of you being halfway through puberty. Dimly, because much more pressing in your mind is the semi-chub pressing against your hip. It's an altogether alien feeling, and not one you ever thought you'd experience with your girlfriend. But you swallow that embarrassment and... no small amount of horniness you're feeling and just hold her. You'll push through, for her.
"C'mon, let's go inside," you say as you guide her back to her own house.