You Can Be Anything You Want Pt. 02

"I want to be a girl." was all I could say. It was so quiet, I hoped she managed to hear me.

"You what now?!" Sam asked with a confused expression.

"I want to be a girl. I want to dress, walk, talk, move, and get fucked like a girl." I said a bit more resolutely.

"Umm... Since when?" she asked.

"A month, maybe a bit more." I replied.

She looked confused. I could see the gears trying to turn in her head, but they were jammed. She dropped her purse on the couch and slowly sat down. She was staring at me for an entire minute, not blinking once. I just stood there, frozen in place.

"Are you sure this isn't just a phase? I mean, this is a big decision, Nicky. Maybe you should talk to a professional about it." Sam said first in a much more serious tone.

"I'm sure Sam. And yes, I'm well aware that I need consultation." I said, trying not to sound like a crazy person.

"I want to hear the whole story. Now! As it happened, Nicky! No skipping over details, no fancy explanations like in your books. I want you to sound like an old mathematics professor teaching an equation to a class of middle schoolers. Simple and to the point." Sam said as she rested her elbows on her knees and stared directly into my eyes.

I told her the whole story. Everything that had happened, after she'd moved out, up to that point. I told her about the porn, the toys, and my masturbation sessions. Everything! She just kept quiet and listened to me. With each sentence, I could see the jammed gear in her brain start to slowly move. After I was done, there was only silence. Sam was the first to break it.

"This is big." was all she said.

"I know, but I really need your help with this. I'm sort of stuck." I pleaded.

"I'm not sure it is a good idea at the moment. You sound way too eager, and if you come to regret it later, I won't be able to forgive myself." she said as she grabbed the purse and headed for the door.

I stood there and just watched her walk away. I was about to break into tears. One of my best friends was about to leave, and it felt horrible. I was so sure she would help me, I hadn't considered the other possibility.

Just before she left, she turned around and said "I will help you, but not today. I need you to book an appointment with a professional and talk it through with them first. As soon as they give me the green light and make sure that it is something you actually want and not a temporary kink, I will be there. I'm leaving now. I have a lot of research to do on the topic just in case you go through with it."

She turned back and just smiled. It was a warm, but concerned, smile. She clearly needed some time to process this, and I had homework.

"Thanks, Sam." was all I could say as she walked out.

I spent the next few days looking online for a therapist. I was anxious to start, but I needed to do it properly and not rush into this. After going through the entire list of certified doctors in my area, I came across Dr. Hanna Dolton. Her website was done professionally, mentioned she had experience with transgender patients, and specialized in people with gender dysphoria. The short bio was impressive and I could have picked her just based on that, but what made an impression on me was her photo. She had, what could best be described as, a 'no-bullshit' face. I called the number of her office and set up a meeting in two days.

I had done my homework and felt I deserved a reward. I went to the bathroom to have a bath and brought my newly purchased enema kit. I had a long soak and after washing myself, I used the last of the hot water to try out the kit. It worked like a charm. After I got out of the bathroom, feeling clean, both on the outside and inside. I picked the panties with the bow from my underwear drawer and put them on. Again, I got hard almost immediately. This time, however, I decided to stay in them and let my excitement die down on its own. I picked the small buttplug, lubed it, and after a bit of trial and error with my slippery hands, I slipped it inside me. The weight of it felt great. I felt full and loved it. Every time I moved, I could feel the plug shift slightly in my ass and brush against my prostate. I decided to wear it for a bit, so it could do its magic and loosen me up, and then try to change to the bigger one. I pulled the panties over my cock and tried to shove it inside them as best as I could.

I tried to do a bit of writing while the plug was inside me. That was a big mistake. As soon as I sat in the chair, I felt the toy move slightly deeper in me. It felt amazing, but I couldn't focus. Every time I tried to shift to a position that would allow me to write at least a sentence, the plug moved soon after, as if it had a mind of its own. I closed my laptop and decided that a movie on the couch would be the best I could do with the restless intruder in my ass.

Halfway through the film, I got up and picked up the medium-sized plug. I got some lube as well because I could feel it drying and it had started to feel a bit uncomfortable. I slowly pulled out the small one and set it on the table while I explored the work it had done. My butt had grown accustomed to it and started to stretch. I could easily put two fingers inside me without any discomfort. I lubed up the bigger toy and lined it up with my hole. It felt much bigger as it was entering me. I felt the familiar stretching again and after a minute or two, I pushed harder on it and it popped right in. It felt as if I hadn't worn the small one for almost an hour and had just started. It was slightly longer than the previous one and I felt it brush against my button much more often. The big one was going to be a challenge at this rate, but today, the medium one would do the job perfectly. It was slightly thinner than my smallest dildo and would prepare me for it.

I finished the film trying to keep up with the plot but it was futile. I could think of nothing else but the toy inside me. I patiently sat there, waiting for this plug to do its thing, and after the film was over, I got up and decided it was time for the main course. On my way to the bed, I glanced in the mirror. My cock was finally limp in my panties and I could see just a small bulge in them. Finally, I was getting somewhere. I turned around a few times and checked my butt. It was flat. I needed to start exercising soon and made a mental note to look for a butt routine, but first - fucking my brains out with an appropriately sized dildo.

I got on the bed and moved my thong to one side. I grabbed the plug and got it out of me. Like the previous time, I fingered myself to check the progress. I could hardly feel one finger, two were easy and three felt great. I felt as ready as I could be and lubed up my smallest dildo and lined it up. I slowly started to push and felt the toy easily go inside me. This time there was no struggle and most importantly no pain. I was happy that I took the time to properly prepare myself.

I started to move it in and out. I could feel the head on the toy bump against my prostate, the veins along the shaft massaging my entrance, and the slightly thicker part of it at the bottom stretching me more and more as I moved it deeper inside me. Soon enough, I picked up the pace and settled on a steady, but still slowish, rhythm. I started moaning and panting, my only focus was on the cock going in and out of my butt. I was in heaven. I tried riding it on the bed and while I found the angle to be much better and more pleasurable, I couldn't get the movement right. That night I tried every position I had read about, figuring out what worked for me. The doorframe doggy style was my favorite at the time, at least until I figured out how to ride the damn thing.

I spent probably close to two hours trying things out and I only got close to the magical anal orgasm I craved while I was on all fours and while riding. In the end, I was spent and couldn't get any closer. Every time I thought I got the angle and the speed right, I tired myself or my hands, quicker than I wanted. I had to work on that too, at least until I was ready to let someone fuck me.

I spent the next two days patiently waiting for my appointment with Dr. Dolton. I decided to give my ass some rest because I was scared I'd overdo it and hurt myself. I did some writing as a way to distract myself from what lay ahead. Of course, every day I wore one of the two sets of panties I had. They made me feel a tiny bit sexier than my boxers.

On the day of the appointment, I called Sam to let her know I was going. She felt relieved and wished me good luck. Fortunately, Dr. Dolton's office was a thirty-minute walk from my apartment and I decided to use the time to clear my head. It didn't work. The moment I arrived, I felt my heart was going to burst from my chest. My palms were sweaty and my knees were weak. I rang the doorbell and waited. A few moments later the door opened. Dr. Dolton welcomed me inside and closed the door behind me. Her office was small and looked cozy. There was a big desk at one end of it and a couple of comfortably looking sofas in the middle of the room facing each other with a small coffee table between them.

"You must be Nicholas. Please have a seat." she said as she welcomed me inside.

"Hi." was all I could manage as a response.

"You must be nervous, but I assure you, there is nothing to be afraid of." she said in a calming voice. "What can I do for you?" she asked as she sat on the left sofa and pointed at the other one, prompting me to sit.

I sat and stared at her. I was always good with words, or I least I am good when I can see them written on a page in front of me. At that time, however, I had nothing.

"This will be much harder if you don't talk. I need to get to know you first before I take you as a patient." she said in a reassuring tone.

It was now or never I thought and blurted out "I want to become a girl."

She paused for a second and asked "How long have you felt that way?"

"Dunno, a month or two." I replied.

"That's pretty soon to make such a big decision. Has anything major happened at that time, or during these months?" she probed.

"My parents passed away two months ago in a car crash on the way to my best friend's wedding." I said while thinking back. Up until that point, I had never thought of the timing of the whole thing.

"Do you think it could be connected?" she continued.

"Don't think so. At least not on a conscious level. They were accepting and wouldn't have minded this whole thing." I answered.

"Yet, the timing is suspicious, isn't it?" she said prompting me to think harder about it.

"It is." I said defeated.

"It may sound a bit hypocritical of me, but I'm glad you came. In situations like this, it is best to talk to a professional. I would like to get to know you better before I decide if I could be of any help." she explained calmly.

We spent the next hour talking about me. She asked simple questions about my hobbies, writing, my childhood, and friends. I felt safe around her and I answered them truthfully. Her presence was calming me and I could easily talk about myself with her. I won't bore you with all the details, but at the end of the session, she agreed to take me in and suggested I go there twice a week for at least a month before I took any big steps. We agreed on a schedule and I gave her my number in case any emergency came up. I also gave her Sam's number because I was sure she would call her to check up on me. That way, she could at least prepare for the conversation. I asked her if it was the case, to share with her anything she thought was important. Sam was very close and I had nothing to hide.

I left her office in a good mood. I had made the first step and was eager to share it. I called Sam immediately and told her about the session. She sounded relieved.

I kept going to see Hanna for two months never skipping an appointment. After each one, I either called Sam, or we had coffee and discussed the whole situation. The most important thing Dr. Dolton focused on, was to set my expectations. She wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I faced ahead of me. She answered, to the best of her ability, the effects of hormones, if I decided to go that route, and explained I needed her approval to start the treatment. We discussed at length the image I had in my head of how I wanted to look, the voice training I had to go through if I wanted to sound like a female, the possible surgeries, and every little detail. I, in turn, spoke about it with Sam, who finally warmed up to the idea and I started to see a slight anticipation in her.

About twenty sessions in, Hanna gave me her approval. She insisted I kept seeing her for at least a year and a half while I went through the whole thing. I couldn't agree more. I felt as if she was already an integral part of the process and wanted her beside me.

I called Samantha immediately after I left the doctor's office. I told her the news and shared the good news. Her response was brief - "Go home, I'll be there immediately."

I went home and hid my toys before Sam got there. She knew I had them, but I still felt that she didn't need to see them. She arrived no longer than fifteen minutes later. I opened the door and she was flushed as if she ran to my place.

"Let's start." she said as she hugged me and kissed my cheek.

"Gladly!", I agreed and closed the door.

"First things first. This is a beginner's list of everything you need to learn." she said as she slammed a huge binder on the coffee table. That thing was the size of "War and Piece".

"So you did research the whole thing." I said as I went through the pages.

"Of course I did!" she said as I had just said the stupidest thing ever. "Inside you will find the definitive guide to being a woman with everything you need to know about underwear, clothing, make-up, exercise, behavior, voice training, mannerisms, and everything else I could think of."

"And that's just the beginner's stuff?" I asked mockingly.

"Yes, silly! The rest, you will have to figure out yourself." she said. "I will be here to help, but there will be a cost to my services." she added with a devilish grin.

"Of course there is..." I sighed, knowing full well that I was surely about to both regret, and enjoy this decision.

"Here's the deal. I will help you with everything in this list, but for the time it takes, you will be my pet and plaything." Sam started explaining with a twinkle in her eyes.

"So, you intend to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state?" I asked jokingly.

"Yeah, pretty much!" she instantly responded. "There's more. I want to be present the first time you get assfucked."

That sentence caught me off-guard. I didn't know how to respond and I just kept staring at her.

"Oh, c'mon Nicky! I really want to see your mind break from pleasure. Greg told me, mine did, the first time he saw me get assfucked in front of him." she started begging.

"Fine!" I said.

"Great! Let's get started, my pet!" she commanded.

We stayed up until some ungodly hour after midnight, going through the entire thing. For the entire duration, Sam was in the zone. I felt dizzy from the amount of information as I was going to bed. I had bra sizes, underwear types, butt exercises, and 'Sam's guide to highlights with make-up' all floating around in my head, desperately trying to find a place to anchor themselves to. Of course, Sam being Sam, she went through my toys. When she found the big dildo, she just gave me a wicked smile and said "Size queen!"

The next six months were interesting, to say the least. I had to relearn almost everything I knew until then. I started my hormone treatment a week after the Doc gave me the green light.

The first thing we started with, was my wardrobe. I bought a bunch of new underwear. My drawer was no longer full of boxers but now contained, what felt like, a thousand pairs of regular panties, thongs and Brazilians, briefs, and a few pairs of what Sam called, "slutwear". I started to buy more and more bold colors that replaced my usual black or grey clothes. My sweatpants were replaced by leggings, my jeans with feminine models and dresses, and my sweatshirts with blouses and various other tops. I kept a few of my old things because they looked good when combined with my new stuff.

I worked on my makeup skills too. Everyday! In the beginning, I was really bad at it, but practice makes perfect. I slowly started to get better. By the end of the six months, I could easily apply just enough to make me feel prettier, but not overdo it. I could effortlessly highlight the right facial features. Hormones did a lot of the heavy lifting. Soon after I started taking them, my skin started to change. It was softer and my face looked radiant. I went on a few laser hair removal procedures to get rid of my almost nonexisting facial hair. Everything else could be shaved or easily plucked. I let my hair get even longer and got a haircut that accented my new and beaming face.

I also started exercising regularly. I mostly worked on my hips and ass. I wanted to have a nice little shapely butt and it was slowly, but surely, coming together. Hormones helped with that too. During that period, my body started to change. I had less body hair, and whatever grew, was thinner and lighter in color. I lost quite a bit of strength, even though I exercised regularly. My muscles felt weaker, but I was never that strong so it wasn't a big deal. Whatever body fat I had, started to move around and settle on my butt and hips. The biggest change, however, was that I was growing breasts. They were small, barely an AA cup, but they were there. My nipples got bigger and more pronounced. They were also very sore and annoying. I couldn't just put a t-shirt on and walk around even at home. I started to wear a bra to protect them and not feel constantly irritated by them.

The voice training was the thing I got better at, the fastest. I didn't have a very deep voice and usually sounded like a teenager so it was the easiest of all. I would sit on the laptop and work, constantly reading back aloud whatever I wrote on the page. I constantly refined my way of speaking, my pitch, and tone, and the way I enunciated each word. I was very proud of that. Slowly, it became a habit and my natural way of speaking. I had to really try my best to sound like my old self.

Sam was always there with me. She would correct every little thing she noticed I did wrong. The way I walk, the way I sit, and sometimes, I swear to God, she was so anal about it, she even had a remark on the way I shrugged. She helped me practice walking in heels, eating like a girl, and constantly reminded me to sit when I peed. According to her, it was very important. To this day, I still don't understand why, but I started doing it because it was easier to clean the toilet and kept doing it out of habit.

The other notable change was my penis. It started to shrink and by the end of the six months, it was a good inch shorter. It was also notably thinner. My balls were smaller too. I was a bit sad in the beginning because I really liked it, but it slowly started to look a tiny bit more feminine. What I didn't miss, were the random erections throughout the day. My smaller size and calmer penis were great each time I tucked and wanted to make sure there was no bulge in my pants.

Every week, Sam came over for a sleepover and I had to be my best feminine self. If I did good, I'd get a blowjob. Her reward, of course, was a constant. I'd usually end up between her legs eating her out. I dare say that six months of pussy eating, made me a fucking pro.

At the end of those six months, Sam was happy with the results and said she would come over for a graduation party. I was sure it included my mouth and her pussy in a very distinct way, but I was only partially correct. As soon as I opened the door, she greeted me, threw an overnight bag on the floor, and handed me another, smaller binder. This one had a title - 'Nicole's guide to being a slut'.