The Journal of Mark Trewidden Final Part
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The Journal Of Mark Trewidden Part 5 free porn video
March 4th 2013
Jen said that I have been spending an interesting amount of time with
Jim. All I have done is partner him at badminton and have coffee with him
a couple of times. Jen is the only person who I want as a partner. Jim is
just a friend that I get on with and he is a bloody good badminton
player. We are going to represent the club as a mixed double in a match
next week.
I am not into men.
(?? - Jen)
March 6th 2013
I had a long, long chat with Jen about reassignment surgery. I have been
pondering over the subject at great length. I have read as many first
hand experiences as I can. Almost as many people seem to have ended with
difficult, painful or disappointing experiences as ended up happy. It
seems that a significant number ended up regretting their decision.
On the other hand, people whose cases are in any way similar to mine,
seem on balance to be happy.
I am severely embarrassed whenever it comes to changing rooms. I am very
aware that I do not look the same as all the other women down below. Over
the last couple of weeks Jen and I have been having fun with our friends
and colleagues.
I have had my hair done the same as Jen's, tints and all. We swap clothes
and apart from the fact that I am an inch taller, Jen's boobs are a bit
bigger than mine and my shoulders are a bit broader, we look like twins.
Oh, my feet and hands are slightly bigger. Unless we are standing side by
side people have real difficulty, I have unconsciously picked up a lot of
her mannerisms.
Jen thinks that I should get the surgery done. She reckons that it would
help me sort myself out mentally/sexually and give me some real options.
She did raise the suggestion of anal sex for me to try what it is like
with a man. I have ruled that out absolutely. If I ever did decide to
have sex with a man, heaven forbid, it will be as a woman.
I am finding myself leaning towards the surgery.
March 9th 2013
Very strange things happened this afternoon. David came up behind me
grabbed my boobs, said "high Jen", and asked whether I was in the mood
for a shag that afternoon. He realised after a second or two, by my
reaction that I was not Jen. Now David is a big manly hunk of a guy and
great fun but, no, I did not fancy a shag with him that afternoon. He was
highly amused and very apologetic at the mistaken identity.
When I told Jen about it, she blushed crimson and looked very guilty. She
immediately confessed that she had become so randy over the last couple
of months that she had started dreaming about a bloody good shag with a
bit of prime beef. David was good fun and not looking for a relationship,
so she had indulged in a couple of bouts of frustration management with
him. Frustration solved, she was feeling better now. She in no way wanted
to endanger our relationship, but we had never been entirely exclusive
and both of us had indulged elsewhere over the years.
It was probably unfair of me but for a while I felt betrayed and unhappy.
When I thought about it properly, I had to face up to the fact that Jen
is very definitely heterosexual and I am no longer able to satisfy that
part of her. I need to be realistic and not expect Jen to be a nun.
(Sorry, but I did need a man. I still love you as much but I was missing
a good shag. - Jen)
March 16th 2013
Easter break and I have used my new passport for the first time. We have
been everywhere and done everything. My French is not as good as Jen's
but we got chatting to a couple of very good looking students from the
Sorbonne. They immediately labelled us les belles jumelles. We met them
at the Louvre and have since visited every gallery of note, the ballet
and a couple of clubs.
My young man is called Charles and Jen's is called Julien. They are both
post graduate students, like us. I don't know why it is so different
being in France, but it does not feel wrong spending time with Charles,
my French is improving all the time. My reluctance to kiss a man is also
fading fast. In fact it is rather pleasant snogging Charles.
We have two more nights in Paris. Jen says that she is seriously thinking
about taking up Julien's offer and go back to his flat for the night. It
is her last chance, because we have to be up and away early to catch our
flight home the next morning. I am almost jealous, I dare not get into a
compromising position with Charles. He would find out too much about me.
I would like to do something for him, as a thank you, for all the fun we
have had. This trip has taken me out of my normal environment and somehow
that has let me put my old me down and just enjoy what comes naturally.
I have changed more than I thought.
(Yes you have- Jen)
March 18th 2013
Back in Exeter and still on holiday. We are both a little tired after the
journey. Jen did spend the night with Julien and came back with a bloody
great grin on her face. I took Charles back to our room on the
understanding that we could not have intercourse. He assumed that it was
my time of the month. He was very expert with my boobs, though, and his
kissing was heavenly. I really wished that I had a vagina so that I could
have made love to him.
I shocked myself by giving him a blow job. I have never touched a man's
penis before, hand to skin. It was quite beautiful and so powerful. It
was like iron inside velvet. For the first time in my life I wanted that
inside me. I could not help myself kissing and playing with it and giving
a full blooded blow job. The more he reacted, the more I wanted to do. I
tried to make him last as long as possible, but in the end I actually
came when he did, it had got me so excited.
I was not Mark in any way at all. I felt like a woman. I wanted to give
myself to that man. I do not love him in any way but, by god, I lusted
after him. It was my birthday as well. It would have been some birthday
present.
I think I understand Jen's need better now. I would have loved to have
had the same equipment as her. If I had, I know it would have been used.
I think that little holiday has made my mind up about surgery.
(About time, sooner the better -Jen)
March 21st 2013
I contacted the lab and was surprised by the fact that they have already
lined up a surgeon for me, in anticipation. They were sure I was going to
decide to go ahead. It is now a matter of getting dates agreed. Usually
when people go through this procedure, they have other bits of cosmetic
surgery done. I am in the fortunate position that I don't need any.
I spoke to my Masters supervisor and the professor today, they are quite
happy for me to take a break, in my research, for the surgery
If I make the final decision, I will have to face the following
1. probably a week in hospital with lots of pain and discomfort
2. another week or two at home in bed or at least resting full time
3. up to another three months with restricted activities, including no sport
4. I lose the badminton championship
5. regular checkups for months
6. probably six moths with various prosthesis stuck inside me
7. at least six months before full feeling returns
8. longer before the scarring is no longer noticeable
And when it is ready for use, I will have to use it, on a frequent basis,
or lose it.
All this is against a background that there is always risk with surgery
and the result may not be as good as they expect. The people from the lab
say that it is as if my body has prepared itself for this change as far
as it possibly can without doing its own surgery. They still think that a
womb transplant is a strong possibility, they would attach the uteris to
the vagina and I would have a fully functioning set up.
They have asked me, if a womb became available at the time of the
surgery, would I want to go ahead with the transplant. I am tempted to
say yes. If I am going to be a functioning woman, in so many ways, it
would be right to be fertile.
I shall tell mum and dad tomorrow that I am going ahead.
April 2nd 2013
I am writing this in the hospital. Surgery is in the morning and I am
shitting myself. Jen has been here for hours until I sent her home. Mum
and dad visited and said they would be here when I came round tomorrow.
What have I let myself in for?
April 4th 2013
God I hurt. I have some pretty powerful painkillers but they are not
really doing more than take the edge of. I woke up yesterday early
evening after having been out for, I think it was ten hours. I was
totally spaced out, feeling sick and in massive pain. I saw Jen and the
rents before they knocked me out again.
I slept through till this morning and did not feel massively better then.
Every move that I make is agony and if I do not move everything hurts
anyway.
The consultant and his team saw me this morning. They were absolutely
full of themselves. Apparently my body had prepared itself for surgery.
In every conceivable way, it had made whatever changes it could and the
operation was therefore much more straightforward than normal.
My immediate question was why had it taken so long. The answer was a bit
of a shock. I was told that a womb transplant is a groundbreaking piece
of surgery and everything had to be done with absolute care and
precision. The consultant told me that everything seemed to have gone
perfectly and when I had healed I would be a fully fertile woman.
What!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know that I had agreed to it in theory, but in no way did I expect it
to happen. That bloody research team has got its way. I suppose they will
want me to get pregnant now, so they can do more research and publish
more papers.
The surgeon was astounded that I was not at least intersex. He said that
had it not been for the vestigial penis, he would have thought he was
operating on a woman. He still could not believe that I had normal XY
chromosomes.
He was confident that apart from drugs to prevent me rejecting the
implanted tissue, I needed no extra medication. My body was providing
everything that I needed.
Well bully for them all. I now have the prospect of periods and
pregnancy. A short year ago I was a normal, happy man. Now?
April 10th 2013
The pain and discomfort is still awful, but much better than it was. I
don't feel any different, just numb. The consultants seem to be very
happy with my progress and say that I can go home in a couple of days.
I have to be very careful about how I stretch and use my muscles,
especially in my midriff and groin area. I am going to have to be very
careful. They have removed some stitches and most of the internal ones
will dissolve in time.
I am still in a daze about the operation.
April 14th 2013
Home at last, Jen and my parents thought it best if I was at mum and
dad's for my recuperation. Jen is here with me. I am being looked after
hand and foot. I am taking medication to prevent rejection, medication
for pain and medication to control my new equipment.
April 17th 2013
I am getting really bored now, I am still bed bound apart from going to
the loo. Peeing has taken some getting used to and I have to be very
careful to avoid infection. I have had visits from a specialist nurse who
changes the prosthesis in my vagina and changes my dressings.
I have been able to do some research and do some writing, but it is a
handicap being stuck in bed. Jen spends one day here and one day at
Exeter.
My baby brother is hugely curious and has never stopped asking me
questions. I am not sure about what I have done. I just feel as though I
am in limbo.
I would love to be out playing tennis, now the sun is shining. No tennis
for at least two months, bugger. No sailing, bugger, no badminton,
bugger, no running, bugger, no alcohol, bugger, no dancing, bugger, no
sex, bugger, just bugger, bugger, bugger. Why did I agree to this?
April 25th 2013
It is hardly worth writing this journal at the moment. Every day is the
same as the day before. It is gone three weeks since the operation. The
pain is a lot less than it was at the start. The consultants had me in
for inspection yesterday. Ambulance and everything, they say that I am
making a wonderful recovery. My body has welcomed the changes and is not
fighting them. I am healing well inside and everything seems perfect.
I am now allowed to go for short walks. I walked a mile today and was
absolutely knackered at the end of it. It is going to difficult to stop
myself exercising. I feel so unfit. I will have turned into marsh mallow
by the time I am given the all clear. Jen is here a lot of the time, but
we can do so little other than talk.
Jen keeps asking me what I intend to do with my new vagina as soon as it
is given the all clear. At this point, I have no idea.
The nurse is still visiting for dressings and the prosthesis. I can
actually feel it inside me now, weird.
Anastasia
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