Sue was a tomboy through and through. She knew she was and embraced it with her whole heart and being. For her, it started at the early age of five, when she could finally start expressing herself. She looked around at her world and quickly decided what interested her and what didn’t.

Her mother was the perfect housewife and mother. She stayed at home and raised her and her two older brothers. Her mother often said she had always wanted a girl and finally having one-her last child-was a blessing to her.

Her dad was a lieutenant in the police force. Her earliest memories of her dad were seeing him looming over her, dressed in his uniform. He would take his cap off and place it on her head and then reach down and swoop her up in the air, with her giggling like mad. His smile would be bright and wide, and he would swing her around and then hug her tight. She used to try to squeeze him harder and harder, and he would fake being crushed by her little hugs.

She also realised at a very early age that she didn’t want to be like her mother. To Sue, her mother led a boring life. It wasn’t until years later that she appreciated the true strength of her mother, raising two boys, a large male dog, and a husband who was always on the beat. But growing up, to Sue, her mother appeared weaker. Not as smart as her father. Not as physically capable as her father. And she didn’t do fun stuff like her father did. She did boring things like shop.

Growing up in a house full of boys, she felt being a boy represented freedom and being unencumbered. She watched them roll around, scrape their knees, and be as dirty as they wanted. To Sue, it represented joy. Her mother wanted her to have nothing to do with it. Her father, on the other hand, would give her secret smiles, and she knew in her heart that her father loved her for being her and the way she was. He never treated her like a girl, but more like one of her brothers. When they went fishing, she went too. When they went to watch motor cross, she went too.

When mom tried to send her to ballet lessons and gymnastics, she rebelled and they would find her out in the woods, hiding up a tree. She would disappear on her bike, and they all knew she had a fishing rod and would be back when the sun went down. She would come home with a few fish, and then gut, and scale them, wiping her brow, and getting fish blood on it, and then do up a fish fry. Just like dad always did.

All she knew was she didn’t want to be a girl, or more specifically, she didn’t want to do what girls were expected to do. She wanted none of that. Instead, she hung out with her brothers, who never seemed to mind her constant presence. She read MAD magazines and comic books with them. Played video games and beat them. Wrestled with them until her time came and her mom, for once, put a strong stop to wrestling with her brothers. When she was looking, at least. Sue could still get her oldest brother in a mean head lock and get him to admit he wanted to kiss boys before she would let him go.

In school, she only hung with the boys. They simply understood her better than the girls did. She knew more about sports, cars, trucks, military stuff, games, Dungeons and Dragons, and what superhero could beat what superhero and why she was always right about it. Deep inside, she hated how girls talked to one another and what they talked about. It never interested her, and she hated the petty and mean nature of young girls. Boys, on the other hand, were free, fun, and did way cooler stuff.

Middle School and High School were a blast for her. She played sports but mostly pickup games where she could freely join the boys. She threw a mean baseball and with none of that girly way of throwing. She could throw a strike better than most boys and could toss a ball from deep centre field to the pitcher’s mound in one easy throw.

She won her first fist fight at age eight and gave a powerful bully a bloody nose. She was suspended from school for a week. Her mom had been horrified. Her dad, once she explained what had happened (which her mom had never asked), had nodded and ruffled her hair and told her he was proud of her. She could close her eyes to this day and remember that talk with her dad. He explained why it’s important to stand up to bullies and defend other people. But to be more careful next time. She loved him an impossible amount after that day and solidified her disdain for how women acted. Dad got it. Even her brothers got it and privately told her just how much they admired her that day.

Mom had tried to make her feel horrible about it. But she wouldn’t listen when Sue tried to explain just how horrible this bully had been to everyone. Finally, Sue had given up trying to please her mom, and they grew distant over the years. Her mom had wanted a girly-girl daughter, and realised Sue was never going to be that person. Sue knew it upset her mother, but she couldn’t change who she was.

Sue was often frustrated growing up. She just understood men and boys so much better. Women seemed so foreign to her. And weak. And timid. And they fought with each other over stupid things like boys and who said what to who. She saw being a woman as being an injustice. She saw the boys’ club and had decided she wanted in that club and forced her way in.

Sue happily remained a tomboy and never really stopped being one. Her childhood had been a wonder to her. Full of open skies, running creeks full of fish, tree forts, fixing cars with dad, and beating up her stupid brothers when they deserved it.

She started the local college at eighteen. She had her own car she had fixed up from a scrapyard car with help from her oldest brother Mike, who was twenty-four and still at home, and her brother Jim, who was only a year older than her. She had opted to remain local at the community college rather than leave home. Truth was, she loved her rural hometown and the wide expanses surrounding it. She could never leave.

She knew one day she was going to become a police officer like her dad. It was her lifelong dream. And she wanted to be a police officer in her hometown.


Sue banged open the backdoor to the house after tossing her bike up against the house siding.

“Mom? I’m home!” she cried out as she stepped through the door into the kitchen. The spring on the backdoor slammed it shut behind her.

“Sue, how many times have I told you not to bang the back door! It’s going to come off its hinges again!”

“I’ll fix it if it does!”

Her mom was shouting back from somewhere deeper in the house. “That’s not the point! Close it gently!”

Sue shook her head and grinned and went to the fridge. She was thirsty after the bike ride home from college. It was only ten miles away, and she kept trying to improve her timing. Today she had knocked almost thirty seconds off her best time. Entry into the police academy required her to be fit, and she worked hard at it.

She looked around the fridge and spied the large plastic orange juice container. She grabbed it with an imagined mental chime of success sounding in her head and twisted the top off. She pressed the top to her mouth and leaned back to chug the juicy deliciousness of it past her dusty throat and mouth. She heard Mario coins in her head.

“Susan Elizabeth Chandler! Stop that right this instant!”

Sue turned slowly, still with the juice container raised high and draining into her mouth, and peered sideways at her mother. Her mom was standing there looking aghast, with her hands on her hips. She wore a house dress, as she called it. One of the simple dresses she made herself and wore constantly around the house, complete with an apron around her waist. Her mom looked like a mom. Complete with a bra that made her breasts look like cones or something. It was the 21st century and her mom was stuck in the fifties.

Sue snorted at the thought and then choked on the orange juice that caught in her throat. Juice slipped past her throat and hit her lungs. Sue immediately bent over and started hacking.

Sue’s mom rushed over and pounded her back with weak little slaps. Sue struggled to clear her lungs and not laugh. She waved an arm at her mother to get her to stop.

“That’s what you get for drinking out of the container, young lady! You act so much like your father and brothers. I wish…” Her mom’s voice faded away and Sue finally found she could breathe almost normally.

She straightened and made a “woo-eee” sound. “Wow, talk about going down the wrong way…” she laughed and then put the cap back on the bottle of juice and put it back in the fridge. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her mom closed the fridge with a push and then peered at her daughter. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes, mom…” she rolled her eyes and went to walk past her mom, but she stopped her with a hand raised in front of her. Sue looked down at herself. She wore shorts and a tee shirt and a pair of Converse shoes. She looked perfectly fine.

Maybe the shirt was a little used, she thought. It was her favourite Judas Priest shirt. She tried to remember when it had been cleaned last and couldn’t.

Her mom tutted. “I mean, what are you NOT wearing?”

“A bra, mom. I’m not wearing a bra. Who cares? Bras are stupid!”

“Bras hold everything together and believe me, without one your breasts are going to sag in time.”


“Honey, you need to start wearing bras. You’re too large to not wear one.”

“I wear sport bras!”

“Only when you are playing sports or running. You need one all the time. For modesty, too.”

“Modesty? What is this word you speak of?”

Her mother playfully slapped her shoulder. “Less cheek. Sue, you are a woman now. You need to wear more suitable clothes. You have breasts. Men will ogle them. You need to cover them up and less…” Her mom waved her hand in the general direction of Sue’s breasts.

Sue looked down and saw her nipples were making points in her tee. “I hate it when they do that,” she muttered.

“Sue, please. A bra? Okay? At school at least? Please? For me?”

Sue nodded but doubted she would. Her mom let her pass, and she slipped past and headed straight to her room, pulling her earphones free and stuffing the tangled cable into her front pocket with her smartphone. She stopped at Jim’s open bedroom door and peered in. He was listening to metal with his over-the-ears headphones and was rocking pretty hard, lying back against the wall on his bed. His room was a disaster of junk and clothes, and the walls were completely covered with rock memorabilia. She spied his Fender guitar lying up beside him, his hand on the neck. It was plugged into his mini amp. He looked up at her.

“Hey sis. You’re home early,” he yelled and then pulled off his headphones.

“Last class ended early. Prof had some emergency or something. I’m pretty sure she just wanted to get away early for the weekend. Three PM classes on a Friday suck balls.”

“They surely do,” intoned her brother, smirking. His eyes left hers and travelled down and stared at her breasts and the points on her shirt.

“Perv much?” she said and laughed when his eyes flipped back up to hers.

“High beams are on, Sue.”

Sue nodded and ignored him. Jim was constantly sneaking looks at her. No matter how many times she slapped him down, he kept doing it. “What are you listening to?”

“The new Slayer album. Repentless.”

Sue’s eyes widened. “Get the fuck out! When did it land?”

“Today! It’s fucking awesome. I was worried, you know…”

“Yeah, Jeff Hanneman being gone and all…”

“And the drummer left. But this is awesome shit! Here, check this out…” Jim pulled the headphone jack free from his system by yanking the cord, and metal music blared before Jim restarted the song. Heavy guitar notes filled the room in quick tempo. The Slayer music blared hard and strong in the small bedroom.

Sue loved it and whooped. “Holy fuck! That’s great!”

“Check this out,” said Jim, and pulled his guitar into position. In moments, he was pulling the same music out of his fender, all while lying back on his bed, with his legs crossed. He was such a natural, and Sue grinned at him. He wore a black Slayer tee, and his long blond hair was tied back behind his head. He never shaved and didn’t need to, except the wisps of hair where sideburns and beard should be were sorely lacking. Sue could see his ripped arms pulsing with the motion of playing his guitar. He suddenly reminded her of dad and wondered when that change had occurred. She eyed him closely and noticed how he had gotten larger somehow. He was no longer a skinny kid like her.

Holy shit, my brother is a full fucking man now, she thought with sudden clarity.

She watched him play his guitar, lost to the music. Watched his muscles ripple and his deft fingers play across the fret board and strings. She felt a surge of excitement and then felt flushed. Jim finished and looked up at her expectantly.

“Jesus fuck, Jim. That was perfect! You’re so good now! Play one of your songs! Come on! You know I love them!”

Sue watched his expression change from happy to sad. “Nah, they’re still being worked on. Not ready yet.”

“Are you kidding? I can hear them in my bedroom next door. I love them!”

“Yeah, well…”

He was interrupted by mom who walked past his room and past Sue. “Jim, I told you before. Keep your headphones on in the house! I can’t stand that noise!”

“Mom! I was just letting Sue hear the new Slayer album!”

“The house is too small for that much volume!” Sue’s mother swatted her ass. “And you get washed and changed. Dad is taking us out to dinner tonight.”

That piqued her interest. “Dinner? Out? Where?”

“You know your father…”

Sue looked at Jim and they both said at the same time, “Steak house!”

Sue rushed to her room and started looking through her clothes. Most lay on the floor of her room, and she threw them around, looking for her best shirt. She found it on the bottom of a pile and sniffed it. She could faintly smell sweat, but it wasn’t too bad. She pulled off her tee and then her mom came in.

“Sue, you need to close your bedroom door when you change. Your brothers will see you.”

Sue snorted. “They’ve seen me plenty of times.”

“Yes, and they shouldn’t. It’s not right.”

“They’re just tits, mom.” Sue cupped them, over-filling her hands. She hated them. They got in the way of everything. She had cried when they started to appear. They instantly made her different from the boys she hung out with.

“Yes, they are. And I keep telling you they are wonderful. You are so blessed. But to boys they mean something else. Cover up. And wear a bra, for God’s sake! Especially tonight! We aren’t going out in public with your breasts hanging free, young lady! I’ll die of embarrassment!”

Sue growled.

“And not that shirt. I can smell it from here. Do some laundry for once. And clean your room!”

Sue sat on the edge of her twin bed. She caught a motion and looked up to see Jim leering at her, peeking around the door frame, and ogling her tits. She threw the tee in her hands at him. She caught him square in the face.

“Fuck off, perv!”

“Jim Theodore Chandler!” screeched their mom from the laundry room.

Jim’s eyes went round in fright, and he disappeared from view.

When Mike came home, Sue watched him walk by her room and he didn’t look in or say hi. Intrigued, she rose and followed him into his room. He always knew when she was around. He had a sixth sense about her. All her attempts to scare or startle him had always failed. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew when she was around.

“Hey squirt,” he said with his back turned to her as she walked boldly into his room. She had no boundaries at the best of times, and he was long used to her wandering into his room. She sat on his bed and then picked up a Nerf football from the floor and tossed it up in the air to catch it.

“Stop calling me squirt.”

“You are a squirt.”

“Dick wad.”

“Fart breath.”

Mike was wearing his mechanic overalls, but with the top pulled down and tied around his waist. He pulled off his soaked tee-shirt and tossed it into his laundry hamper. Sue looked everywhere but at him. Lately she had noticed just how muscled he was and for some reason, it bothered her. She looked around his overly neat room. Everything had its place. He once told her it was so he could tell if she had taken anything. She knew it was because he was a neat freak and she used to come in and mess things around just to fuck with him.

She watched him pull down his overalls, and then he was standing in his room with just his boxer briefs on. Sue only wore boyshorts and mostly to piss off her mother, but also because she loved wearing them under her shorts and jeans. Panties were simply not her thing. She even hated the name, thinking it too cutesy.

Mike turned and Sue’s eyes naturally went to his groin. She was always trying to check out his package because she was curious. She had seen Jim’s a few times. Even dads by ‘accident’ two or three times, usually when camping. But never Mike’s, and she was dying to know.

She had a thing for dicks. She wasn’t sure when it started. She remembered seeing her first one on the Internet. She had been horrified and repulsed, sure that it wasn’t a real thing. It couldn’t be, she had thought at the time. What purpose could it ever serve?

When she had nervously broached the subject of dicks and their purpose in life with her mom, she had been horrified when her mom’s first reaction was to laugh and when Sue stormed away her mother had tried to apologise. That had stopped Sue from ever wanting to speak to her mother about things like that. So, she had asked her dad.

Dad hadn’t laughed at all. He suggested she talk to her mother, but she refused and asked him again. And he did. He sat her down and calmly and gently explained the birds and the bees to her. Her mother had been angry at him after that. Sue remembered it vividly. She had thought mom was going to leave. Dad had crossed some line she didn’t understand. But what she did know now about boys and girls was horrifying, repulsive, and yet filled her full of wonder. Dad had explained it so well to her.

She became a dick expert. She learned all there was to learn about dicks. And she secretly wanted one and was angry she didn’t have one. As far as she could tell, the only reason women didn’t rule the world was because they didn’t have a dick. It made no sense to her. She also saw sports in a whole new way. She would think: How come men played sports so rough with a vulnerability right between their legs? It made no sense. One slight tap on their balls and men were down and out. She had tried it on Jim and proved her point.