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Starting with Castration By Jillian It's never easy to know one's future, even in spite of all the plans a person might make. I am one of those people who has had their life's path altered by unforeseen circumstances and who is still struggling to deal with the changes. It all began about two years ago when I was in an accident at work. I was, at the time, employed by a large manufacturing company as a forklift operator moving both raw materials and finished product around inside the plant. To save the goriest details and make the long story of what and how it happened a lot shorter, I was helping to rig a load of raw material on the twin blades of my forklift when one of the straps broke under the strain. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital in a great deal of pain. After a couple of shots of painkiller and again keeping the story short, I was informed that due to the accident, both of my balls had been crushed beyond repair. No wonder I felt like I was about to throw up. Although I had several different options, none of which were the least bit appealing, the one recommended to me was total castration, no balls and no sacs. The reason I was given for this was actually quite simple, the tube that carries a guy's urine through to his dick had been severely damaged too and I would have to sit down to pee from now on. So if they took my what was left of my balls and sacs, they could more easily provide an exit point for me to pee through. Otherwise, and for its main purpose, I would still be fully functional. In other words, I would still be able to get it up and get off with my dick. I begged and pleaded with the doctors to fix it so I could still pee normally but they did their best to explain that this was something medical science was still unable to do, repair a urethra. So it was that about a month later I left the hospital a partially emasculated male; one who could still get a hard on but who had to sit down to take a leak. My fianc?e Julie stuck with me throughout this entire ordeal, pledging her undying love for me and swearing this would make no difference in our relationship or to planned marriage. It took me almost six additional months to reach a point where I could honestly say, even to myself, that I'd become used to my new condition. I had even reached a point where I had started to see its advantages, few though they were. Having to sit to take a leak was a major pain in the ass but not having to be so concerned about getting hit in the crotch was a huge advantage plus it made it a hell of a lot easier to cross my legs. One thing I did begin to notice soon after I got back to our apartment was that whenever I walked around naked, as we often did at weekends, the sensation of my dick swinging back and forth was greatly intensified by the lack of my balls, for some strange reason. Sexually, everything appeared to work just fine once I'd been cleared to resume having sex. Even Julie said so, often saying it made it better for her just knowing she could stop taking her birth control pills and wasn't going to get pregnant as a result. She really seemed to enjoy sex more too, in keeping with what she told me about her lack of concerns about it. Neither of us, it turned out, wanted to have kids so I guess this accident wasn't such a bad thing after all. All in all, it took about three more weeks before I could screw up the courage to allow Julie and me to take a good close look at the area in question. I just lay down across the bed after undressing to let her examine me first, then I sat up with my heels on the bed's headboard and my knees spread apart while she handed me a mirror. I was stunned when I took my first good look between my legs and where my balls used to hang; they'd given me what almost looked like a girl's pussy! Well, sort of anyway, the little hole I now had to pee from was semi- hidden between two folds of skin that only look like a pussy. Only when I reached down and spread the folds apart could I see the hole. "That looks a lot like my urethra," said Julie. "Really?" I asked her, "Let me see, I want to compare." Sitting down beside me, Julie parted her legs as I knelt between them to look at hers. Spreading her lips for me, I looked closely and sure enough, the two slightly puckered openings were almost identical in appearance, as well as function. "See?" she said. "The only thing I have that you don't is a vagina, but then again you have a dick and I don't." As interesting as this had been, the moment passed and we left the bedroom to go fix dinner, still totally nude. Sitting down to eat, I started to laugh aloud suddenly and when Julie asked what I found so funny, I told her I just thought there was something else she had that I didn't, looking directly at her gorgeous big breasts. "Well, don't be so sure, big fellow. With you refusing to take the testosterone pills your doctor recommended, it's hard to say for sure but you just might end up with a pair of boobies, too." Thinking back to what the doctors had told me, I remember now that this is one of the side effects they warned me about with my refusal to take HRT. "Well, if they're not too big, I guess I'll just have to live with them." I told her. "Might be fun, anyway." She giggled. "Oh? How so?" I asked her. "Then I'd have a pair to play with, too, like you love to play with mine," she answered, continuing to giggle. Over the next several weeks during which I returned to work, we continued to tease each other about the changes I might end up undergoing until one night, Julie suggested I try on a pair of her panties. Reluctant at first, I had to admit to myself the idea intrigued me greatly which was quickly obvious to both of us when I stiffened up almost immediately to a full erection. But when I pulled them on and up over my ass, the first thing we realized was that my erection didn't quite suit the cut of the panties, to put it as politely as possible. Julie suggested I bend it down and tuck it back between my legs, which I tried but found too uncomfortable. Then she came up with an idea and it worked perfectly. I pushed my dick back inside myself, which I found worked fairly well since my dick is only about 6" long when fully erect. Then she applied a piece of tape over it to hold it there and that gave me the smooth crotch necessary to fit into her panties. They looked right on me. From that night, I kept my dick hidden away at all times, except when I showered or took a bath and when we made love, which was now almost nightly. Surprisingly, at least to me at first, the realization that I no longer had any use for it except sexually, being able to pee other than through it, keeping it taped inside of me was actually quite practical and convenient. Thus I stopped wearing men's underwear and turned exclusively to women's panties. I even went shopping with Julie a couple of times to buy a selection of my own. That she talked me into buying and wearing all the different styles and cuts available wasn't all that unusual or nearly as embarrassing as I might have thought it would be. Now to go back in time for reasons you'll come to understand soon enough, I need to explain a few things about myself that will help even me understand the direction my life began to take after the accident. The reason I was driving that forklift was that I wasn't big enough or muscular enough to do much of anything else when I was hired. You see I'm only about 5'8" tall and kind of skinny weighing just 150 pounds at the time of the accident. Try as hard as I could, working out in the gym hadn't helped me gain very much muscle either so I was something of a runt as men go. I didn't like this fact about myself but had accepted my fate over the years and was relatively comfortable with being small. Maybe this contributed to the direction my life took over time, and maybe not, but it sure didn't interfere and instead might have given Julie the idea in the first place. What idea? To begin feminizing me, of course, which is what she did over time... slowly introducing me to the sexiness of women's lingerie and the idea of wearing it. Let me now jump ahead in time to about a year after she first got me to hide my dick inside myself with a piece of tape. In the intervening time she'd managed to shave my legs and under my arms regularly and to wear hosiery around our apartment when we had the time to enjoy ourselves by indulging in our fantasies/sex games. Depending on our moods this might have me in a garter belt and stockings, pantyhose or thigh-highs and sometimes in high heels too in another of her games as she calls them. Almost always this means I have to wear a thong which I find particularly sexy, once I got used to them. The real fun of it is that whatever Julie wants me to wear at a particular time, I make her wear, too. The game is that whatever one of us wants the other to wear, or not wear, we have to dress identically and we play it by taking turns picking out our attire for the evening, one piece at a time. I might also interject here and add that yes, I have experienced some minimal breast development with widened aureole and slightly more obvious nipples with just a bit of puffiness and extra flesh under them. They were not really obvious but enough so that I had to wear a shirt or tee shirt all the time and they're really sensitive too, almost painful if treated too roughly or hit accidentally. Understand that this is all because of my refusal to take male hormones not because of anything else I'm taking. Men do, after all, also produce a small amount of female hormones. During the time that Julie first got me to try wearing some of her lingerie, I really thought nothing of it and instead looked on the whole deal as nothing more than the two of us playing sex games. Since our sex life was terrific and getting better all the time, why would I have any reason to think there was anything else to it? Would you? I became very comfortable with my empty, flat crotch and in a sense, have come to prefer it over what I used to have if only for its convenience. Panties are my underwear of choice and preference these days, for much the same reason... plus my old Jockey shorts really didn't fit correctly any more. The only real problem was the increased sensitivity of my chest, the constant rubbing of my shirt across it was really irritating and something I had to deal with it because it can be, and was very distracting at times. I finally mentioned this to Julie one night right after we got home from work. She said, "I think I know what might help, come with me." She headed to our bedroom and pulled open one of her drawers, she took out a T-shirt sort of thing and handed it to me saying, "Here, try on this camisole on under you shirt and see if it helps." Since we're changing clothes anyway, I went ahead and undressed to put on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, putting the camisole on underneath it. When I dropped it on over my head, I realized immediately that this would do the trick. Its satin-like softness an instant relief from the roughness of my shirts. After we'd fixed dinner, eaten it and cleaned up the kitchen, she asked if it had helped and when I agreed it had, she suggested we make a quick trip to the mall to see if we can buy some for me that are less lacy and feminine. In searching through several of the stores, we do find some that appear to be more like just plain tee shirts than they do something a girl would wear and I ended up buying eight of them, a week's wear plus one, just in case. As far as their color goes, five are a sort of neutral, skin-tone light tan and the rest are white. All of them, however, do have some lace or feminine trim, albeit along the bottom where it'll be hidden inside my pants. This I really didn't mind and hoped they'd give me the relief I needed from the constant irritation where my shirts rubbed across my nipples. Looking back now, this was about the time Julie started bugging me about letting my hair grow thicker and slightly longer, saying she liked me with a really full head of hair. Only later did she act on this suggestion after I'd grown it thicker and it was almost to the neckline of my shirts. It happened one Saturday when I got home from seeing my barber for what turned out to be the last time when she complained he'd done a lousy job with my hair. By this time, Julie had convinced me to wear hose under my pants at work, either a garter belt and stockings or pantyhose. I preferred pantyhose since the garters could be seen in outline when I was sitting down. Anyway, back to my hair... what Julie suggested was that I should let her hairdresser cut my hair since women's beauticians are more used to working with longer, fuller hair than barbers. Since it made perfect sense to me at the time, I agreed and she said she'd call to get me an appointment from her workplace. After all, I knew she went to what was called an unisex shop so I figured what harm could be done by trying it. Julie knew I wouldn't be ready yet for a truly feminine hairstyle so she had the girl cut and style it into more of a butch style, keeping it straight but layered all around, something barbers never do. I had to admit when I saw myself in the mirror that I liked the look. It was still sleek and very easy to maintain. It was late September and Julie came home from work one day and told me her office was planning to hold a Halloween party. It would be a costumed affair and she asked if I'd go with her. After thinking about it only briefly, I agreed and we began looking for costumes that weekend, with no idea in mind what we'd end up liking. I'd never met any of Julie's co- workers since we worked on opposite ends of town and neither of us liked to socialize with co-workers away from the office, preferring instead to maintain our privacy. After looking until mid-October, driving all over town and finding nothing that really excited or pleased either one of us, we sat down and talked about what we might come up with on our own. After some considerable discussion, Julie brought up the idea of us switching genders for the party, with her wearing something obviously male and me going as a girl. I told her there was no way I could appear to be female and she scoffed, telling me she'd be willing to bet I could look very attractive as a girl with the right makeup and styles. Then I asked how she thought she'd be able to pass as a guy to which she replied, "Easily, honey. Fake eyebrows to cover my real ones, some light-colored mascara to hide my naturally dark ones and their length. Maybe a small moustache and some special makeup to make it look like I have a slight five o'clock shadow. I'll put my hair up and wear a man's wig. We'd have to do something to yours or else you'll have to wear a wig. Then we look again for costumes for each of us that'll heighten the illusion all that much more so what do you think?" I knew the makeup and others things she mentioned were available, we'd been to enough costume shops and I'd seen the stuff in several of them. What I was more concerned about was what I'd have to do or let Julie do to make me appear female. She can add fake eyebrows but what could I do about my thicker, male ones? And do I really want to wear a wig all night or see if she can do enough with my hair as it is now to make it look more like a girl's hair style? When I finally agreed to see what we could do she suggested we went to look at costumes again right after work. As usual I went along with her idea. Eventually and in spite of my first feeble protests we found costumes that would serve us perfectly. Mine was that of a Southern Lady while Julie was to be my Southern Gentleman partner for the evening, complete with suit, moustache and top hat. That we're pretty close to the same height and weight helped a lot when it came to trying on the costumes although it ended up that I'd have to wear high heels all night to keep the hem of the dress from dragging on the floor. Julie told me while we walking out to the car with our costumes that I'd have to start practising wearing heels so I could get used to them. 'Terrific, such a deal she's gotten me into now,' I thought. Once we were home, she insisted we went to try on our costumes so we could figure out what, if anything, we'd need to make ourselves look good in them. I knew one thing; she was going to need some additional padding on her upper body to fill her shirt and coat out. She would need some extra padding on her shoulders and around her chest to help hide her boobs. Once I had put on the dress and the crinolines, we realized we were going to need something to give me some extra cleavage due to the low-cut scoop neck of the dress's bodice. I also needed to get a pair of heels in my shoe size since Julie's feet were so much smaller than mine. With about two weeks left before the party, I thought that there was plenty of time but Julie said, "you'll need that much time and more to get used to wearing heels. Now let's see what we can do to make your boobies look bigger." After experimenting with several different ideas, what we eventually found what worked best was taping up the flesh under my chest by pulling it up above the tape to add to my otherwise small cleavage. Once we'd done that, Julie dug out an odd-looking bra-like contraption she said was a combination corset and push-up bra. It was awfully tight after she had all the hooks and eyes closed but she was right, it did give me a passable-looking chest and cleavage. Okay, one problem solved for each of us but what about my eyebrows and the rest of my face. Julie said she'd been thinking about my eyebrows and thought she had an answer. I was to get them cut really short and bleached, then we would use an eyebrow pencil to color and shape them so they looked more feminine. Afterwards, when I go back to work, I can just color them in completely so they look more normal for a guy until they grow back out. Julie then sat me down and started messing with my hair. To see if she can make it look more like a girl's style without doing anything permanent to it. Even with her amateurish attempts, I could see promise that I might be able to go without having to wear a darn wig all night. Since the party's on a Saturday night, I posed the idea of me taking that Friday off and making an appointment with her hairdresser to see what she thinks she could do. If she doesn't think her efforts will suffice, I can get a wig when Julie gets hers. Meeting Julie the next day after work, we went to one of those warehouse shoe outlets to find a pair of heels for me. I decided this would be the least embarrassing way for me to get the shoes since there weren't any clerks so I can just try them on for size and fit. At Julie's urging I ended up buying three pairs. Pair 1 are the same height heel as the ones for the party but with those wide, clunky-looking heels. Pair 2 are more normal heels but only two inch heels and Pair 3 are the three inch spikes I'll actually wear to the party. She advised that I should start practising with the second pair, then work with the first ones with the higher clunky heels and finally with the ones I'll wear on the night. That way it would help me get used to them. Since it was still early when we got home, I quickly got out of my work clothes and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I kept on the pantyhose that I'd worn at work and put on the two-inch heels to start getting used to wearing and walking in them. They were really difficult to get used to at first and made me feel like I was going to stumble and maybe sprain or break an ankle. By the end of the night I was a lot more confident and almost used to wearing them. The next day was a Saturday and I knew when I woke up that I was going to spend the entire day in high heels but I'd no idea what else Julie had planned for me until she made the suggestion over breakfast; "Tommy, I have an idea. To help you get ready for the party, and me too, why don't we both get dressed but in each other's clothes and spend the day helping each other with our mannerisms and stuff? I really have no idea how to act like a man and I bet you have about as much idea how to be a girl." Since it made perfect sense to me that we would need to practice this, too, I agreed and after we'd cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast, we headed back upstairs to our bedroom to see what we could do to each other. Julie had me sit down at her makeup table but with my back to it while she tried to make my face up. She left my eyebrows alone other than trim some of the stray hairs before she started in with the cosmetics. Explaining as she went, she began with, "This is called foundation and we use it to even out our skin tones and to help hide any tiny flaws we might have. Next we'll do your eyes, first with some mascara, then eye color and liner. Good, you're starting to look really nice now. Okay, some blusher to give your cheeks some color and to highlight your cheekbones and now to do your lips. First is some lip liner to help widen and define your lips, then the lipstick. There now all done. No, don't turn around yet... let me see what I can do to your hair first." Running her hands through my hair, it felt like she was really messing it up but as it turned out she just fluffed it up so it looked more feminine. "Okay, now you can turn around." She told me. My initial reaction is to wonder who was the girl I was looking at. Then I realized what a little bit of makeup could do because it's obviously me and I'm almost pretty. Next she suggested I changed from my pantyhose to a garter belt and stockings saying, "you'll feel more feminine wearing them." I had to agree with her and I did feel more girlish. Next she put on that corset thing I'm supposed to wear under the gown but this time she laced it up really tight around my waist. She explained that I'd need to take a couple of inches off if I'm to fit into the dress. Not bothering with the tape this time, I pulled all the flesh I could manage up and into the cups of the corset. Even without the tape, I have a reasonable looking cleavage. Now it's Julie's turn and to start with, I picked up the first of two rolls of bandages and used them to wrap around her upper torso to effectively flatten out her breasts and to help hide them. Then I told her to take off her panties and put on a pair of my Jockey shorts so we can fashion a bulge for her. I used a couple pairs of my socks folded to give the impression of a guy's package between her legs. I made sure it was big enough so that she'd have to cross her legs differently and be constantly aware of her pseudo- package being down there. Then two pair of socks and my shoes with Kleenex stuffed into the toes so she could keep them on her smaller feet. She slipped on one of my shirts and a pair of my pants to complete her look. Then she also put her hair up into a tight bun and took off the earrings she always wore. Then it was my turn again and with a half-slip and one of my camisoles on first, Julie brought out a couple of her dresses from the closet for me to try on. I can't put into words how it felt to walk back downstairs dressed as I was. Totally different and yet not all that uncomfortable. During the day, as we went about doing all the different things we would normally do on a Saturday like cleaning and straightening the apartment we each paid close attention to the mannerisms and gestures we made. We corrected them accordingly until by that evening, we were both doing the major ones naturally. I found for instance that while wearing a dress, it was so much easier to cross my legs gracefully and I had to laugh when Julie crossed hers and put one leg across her other knee just like I always used to do. She became a lot more relaxed in her male role as she slouched in the chair and threw her hands and arms around like men usually do. On the other hand, I was getting used to smoothing my dress under me when I sat down and keeping my elbows in while I walked around. Come Sunday evening, we were both quite pleased with our abilities to mimic the opposite sex and most of their gestures and mannerisms. It was to the point where I was almost as comfortable dressed as a girl as I had been as a guy. We continued this gender switch each night after work, all the following weekend and every night leading up to the party. Julie ended up being the one who stopped on her way home from work to pick up our costumes. On the Saturday morning, I headed out early to keep the appointment Julie had made for me at her hairdressers. I agreed to have my hair fixed and my eyebrows cut close and bleached. At her suggestion, I wore a pair of her jeans an old pair of tennis shoes with those little footies girls wear, a uni-sex top and a sort of sleeveless T-shirt. I was obviously going to look more androgynous when I left the shop and we wouldn't draw any undue or embarrassing stares because of my hair. The mass of large, loose curls I would have when I did leave surely would have drawn a few stares had I been dressed in a totally masculine manner. That my hair was also highlighted with blonde streaks only added to its feminine appearance. Those streaks can be easily washed out after the party since they'd used a water-soluble coloring instead of a real bleaching. Even with no makeup on, I looked a lot more feminine than masculine leaving the shop and surprisingly I liked the look. Even with comparatively no boobs to speak of, I looked pretty darn good, even if I do say so myself. With a bit more development on my chest and the addition of pads on the inside bottom of the cups of the corset I was going to wear, my cleavage had improved considerably and was now almost enticing. They look so convincingly realistic but bare-chested, my little boobs are quite obvious, at least to Julie and me. Although still lacking what I'd call real definition, more like a guy's pecs that have gone soft with larger than normal male aureole and nipples. They were now almost an inch and a half across. As I drove back across town, I'd have time to wonder just what direction my life was taking... I'm definitely finding myself thinking more and more that in some ways I'd become more feminine. Those were ways that went beyond just wearing panties and hose under my regular clothes. Julie noticed this too commenting every now and then that I'm much easier to get along with than when I'd dressed in her clothes, less aggressive and more sensitive to her feelings, and yes, even more emotional myself. I've discovered many of these things myself, even before she mentioned them. And I'm even getting to enjoy wearing girl's clothing, to the extent I almost prefer it to my male clothing. When I got home and called out to Julie, she answered from the bedroom saying, "I'll be down in a minute and I've a surprise for you when I get there." 'Now what is she up to?' I wondered When she finally came down about ten minutes later, I'm shocked to see what looks to be a very realistic set of male organs between and in front of her legs. Looking closer, I see they're attached to a pair of panties she's wearing and there's a grin a mile wide on her pretty face. "Aren't they realistic looking?" she asked me reacting. "Yeah, they sure are, but what's the deal?" I asked. "Well," she says, "It's like this... I've been going nuts trying to figure how I can pee standing up during the party and when I ran across this thing in a catalog one of my friends at work gave me, I just had to order it." "Okay, but just having those things doesn't make it possible to pee standing up, do they?" "Oh yeah, there's a short little tube inside the crotch that a girl uses to put just inside her urethral opening and it leads out through the end of the penis, and yes, it works because I've already tried it." I laughed at the look of sheer delight on Julie's face and realized she'd fulfilled that dream so many girls have called penis envy. "By the way, Tammi, that's what your name's going to be tonight by the way, I love your hair, it's really pretty." "Why thank you, Jack," I grinned back at her. Some time around three o'clock, we decided it was time to start getting ready for the party since it began at 7pm and it was going to take us a long time to get ourselves ready. We really wanted to make our transformations as convincing as we possibly could. When we finally walked out the door of our apartment and into the hallway, we looked a lot like Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise with the disparity of our heights but we always do when Julie wears her highest heeled shoes. Before we left, we both took a long, critical look at ourselves and we both agreed that even those who knew Julie were going to have a really hard time reading our real sexes because our transformations are so convincingly realistic. It'll be especially hard for any guy who happens to use the men's room at the same time she does, that fake dick of hers is very realistic looking, even up close. And with my cleavage, few people would have any chance of telling that I'm really a guy. I didn't feel very much like a guy dressed as I was in all this finery and wearing these high heels. We ended up winning the grand prize for the best costumes and people were really amazed when we revealed our real sexes too. Our costumes and movement in them was what won the contest and when people found out our real identities we received a huge round of applause and congratulations personally when we came back down off the stage. Going straight home when the party ended, both a bit tipsy from the drinks we'd had, we got undressed and went straight to bed falling asleep almost immediately in each other's arms. Waking up just before 11:00, I discovered that Julie had gone to bed the night before and not bothered to un-tape her breasts. She'd also worn that panty contraption she'd bought for the party. I'd stripped down to just my panties so I put on a garter belt and stockings. My low heeled shoes along with one of the bras we'd bought for me to wear during the weeks leading up to the party, then I headed on downstairs to start a pot of coffee and get breakfast going. Knowing Julie as I do, she was not going to bother unbinding her breasts or taking that panty thing off before she had at least two cups of coffee in her. As soon as the smell of brewing coffee wafted its way upstairs, she woke up and came down to sit with me. I was right she'd come straight from bed without changing what she had on. After her second cup and when she was awake enough to speak, the first thing she said was, "Tammi, where are we headed?" "Not sure I know what you mean, Jack." I responded, keeping up the pretense we'd used the previous night with the different names. "Well, look at us... me with a dick and balls, no boobs, you in hose and a bra with high heels... are we getting twisted around in our sexual orientations or what?" We talked about this for a long time, through a second pot of coffee and beyond. Finally we agreed that while we weren't all that sure where we were heading, we really didn't care and that as long as neither of us objected or wanted to stop, we'd just continue. She told me I could continue to wear girl's clothes any time I wanted to and for as long as I wanted to and I told her she could wear those panties and bind her breasts under the same conditions. She giggled, "Well, it's a lot easier to pee with this thing." We talked some more, just about stuff in general before Julie said, "Tammi, why don't we clean up, get dressed and go shopping or something?" "Like this? As we did last night?" "Sure, are you game?" "Yeah, let's do it and see if we can pass as well in daylight as we did last night." So thus began our adventures of cross-dressing in public, leading us down an unfamiliar path toward who knows what sort of an eventual life-style. Having decided to accept my marriage proposal finally, Julie and I got married later that year and took our honeymoon in New York far from our home in Tucson. We spent the time in drag as we'd long ago decided we would. We'd not bought an engagement ring for Julie/Jack, but we did wear our matching wedding rings of course. It was while on our honeymoon that we decided to continue living as woman and man, to the extent I would start female hormone replacement therapy. It was possible that I might even get breast implants, while Julie would have hers reduced to a size she could more easily hide. Probably down from her C cups to maybe just a small A cup. At the same time, she convinced me to have partial sex change surgery but only to the point of having a partial vagina created and yet keeping my dick. She said she wanted me to know the pleasure of having something inside me and I had to admit the idea did attract me. So when we went home after the honeymoon, we packed our apartment up and put everything in storage until we'd had our surgeries. Then when we were up to moving someplace else where no one knew us, we would start over again. We scheduled our operations and as soon as we'd closed the apartment, flew off to have them done. Admittedly nervous about the decision we'd made to change our lives, we checked into the hospital. It's been six months since Jack and I had our operations and while we've both healed up completely, we're still getting fully adjusted to the lives we now lead. I can't tell you how hard it has been getting used to a having a pair of D-cup boobs, the size Jack insisted I get and this opening between my legs seems to be wet all the time. I guess the transplant they were able to make of a recently deceased girl's vagina and Bartholen's gland really worked. While Julie really wanted them to transplant some guy's penis onto her, medical science is unable to do such things so we've had to be satisfied with her using a strap-on dildo when we take turns screwing each other. No one here in our new city knows the details of our personal lives in all its most private aspects, taking both of us at face value as a married couple with me as the wife and Jack as my husband. Are we happy with our deception? Oh yes, and fully satisfied with the lives we now lead, too. Jack loves being the more dominant partner and as for me, I've come to realize I'm much happier and more content living as a woman that I used to be as a guy, I like my softer and more gentle side. And to think... this all came to be as a result of an industrial accident I had over three years earlier.