Losing My Maleness To Become A Girl Ch. 02

And so "the change" as we started calling it, became a daily topic. It wasn't a question of if I would go through with it, but when.

Peter arranged a consultation with a psychiatrist and I started on a course of hormones. These had the effect of making me lose some body hair and putting on a little weight. I also found that I wasn't as strong as before. I stopped doing weights and started to swim more as Peter wanted me to be more toned. I needed to shave my body hair less as the hormones had a depilatory effect. My body started to change. I developed breasts - small ones as I no longer did bench press and the effect of the estrogen hormones. My ass became more rounded and my genitals seemed to shrink a little. Peter was supportive of me. One day, as I looked at myself in the mirror, he came up behind me and kissed my neck gently.

"I love what you are becoming," he said.

And I knew he did. He reminded me every day to take my hormones, even bringing them to me with a glass of water. Our sex life was amazing. I had long lost any difficulty in taking his 14 inch dick. He came in me at least 3 times a night. Sometimes more - if he was horny. I no longer worried about the inconvenience of our barebacking, and was happy to have the smell of his seed constantly with me. As my body became softer and more feminine, his seemed to become harder. He was a regular gym user and he relished his muscles. He loved the softness and smoothness of my transforming body, and said he liked having more to hold on to when he fucked me. For my part I enjoyed the total dominance he had over me, succumbing to his superior strength and athleticism as he fucked me aggressively like a steam hammer. Sometimes I whimpered as he took me, knowing he liked that, knowing it made him fuck me even harder. I loved it when he worked up a sweat when fucking me and loved to taste it when I kissed his body. I was infatuated with him, waiting on him all day downstairs, and letting him use me like a ragdoll upstairs. I no longer smelled like I did before either. I smelled of him, his sweat, his musk, his cum, and I loved it. It was as if I was becoming subsumed into him.

I had a breast augmentation operation which went well. I found it difficult at first with the new weight on my chest but I soon grew used to them. Peter loved them and would direct me to hold them together as he fucked between them. I would rub KY on them and he often "pearl-necklaced" me that way. My tits added a new dimension to our sex and of course became an important benchmark in my physical transformation. I had sensitive aureolae as well and he laughed when they got hard as he licked them. He liked as well to fuck me doggy holding onto my new breasts as he ploughed away.

The reader may pause at this stage to ponder why, if Peter liked women, he did not just go and get one rather than stay with me as I transformed. I do not know the answer to this save that he seemed to be happy that a biological man was prepared to give up his maleness for him. It seemed the ultimate sacrifice for him and a true declaration of love. There was also some element of control on his part. He wanted a servile sex partner, one who could receive from him whenever he wanted and my maleness was for him a psychological barrier to that.

After I had my breasts implanted I threw away all my old male clothes and started dressing completely as a woman. I would go out with Peter to the store and he would walk with me with a hand around my waist. He seemed proud of me. I passed for a very presentable woman. Once we were in a bar and Peter had gone to the washroom. A drunk white man came up to me and asked why a pretty girl like me was hanging with a black guy. I rebuffed him but was overjoyed that I had passed as woman. All the hormones were beginning to work. When I told Peter about it in the car on the back he got aroused and pulled over, asking me to suck him off before we proceeded. I did.

And again he was sex crazed in bed that night. I think we fucked for around 5 hours pretty much non stop. He would cum in my ass, then cum down my throat, then back to my ass. He fucked me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his torso. And he kissed me a lot that night. I loved his taste. I was blissfully happy. After his last ejaculation, he said to me:

"Honey you need to get the op. We will be so happy!"

I had been putting it off. The ultimate change. Fear, trepidation, no going back. All things I had felt as the months advanced. But I knew that if I wanted to keep Peter, I would have to complete the change.

"OK lets set a date." I said.

We went to see my doctor again and asked for a date for the vaginoplasty. The day drew nearer. I increased my hormone pills and committed myself to being a woman. I changed my surname to be the same as Peter's at his request. Our last night in bed before the op he fucked me beautifully kissing me all over and ramming himself home with passion and conviction.

As we lay in bed looking at the ceiling he said

"Just think, after tomorrow you will be my girl."

And I slept with my head on his chest all night, as happy as I have ever been.

The following day I woke up as a man for the last day of my life and Peter drove me to the hospital for the surgical removal of my testicles and penis and the creation of my vagina.

To be continued.