TG Caption -- High School Reunion

I wrote this caption before I had a picture, which is kind of a first for me.  Typically, I have to see the picture(s) to know what story I'm going to tell.  But with this one, I knew exactly what I wanted to say; I just needed a suitable photograph.

I've mentioned the HBO show Hung before, and I'm going to do so again.  This story is based on a two episode story arc from that show in which a transgender woman (played by a gorgeous TG actress named Jamie Clayton ) attends her high school reunion. I just thought it was a really well-done pair of episodes.

Anyway, check out that show if you can, and enjoy the caption.

As an aside, I'd like to know which caption you all prefer (they're the same except for how they're laid out).  I'm trying to figure out how to best present the captions while making them easily readable.  I know the first one looks better, but the I think the second one might be easier to read.

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Sissy Caption -- Don't Fight It

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Poll Results

I just wanted to say thank you all for your participation in the poll.  There were many more responses than the last one I put up. 

The results were encouraging, too.  Overwhelmingly, people thought the new layout of the site was good, and only a very few thought it needed work.  I'll probably change it up again eventually, but since most of you like it, I'll keep it like this for a while.

Thanks again for responding!

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Feminized Superhero Caption - Superman

I downloaded this picture the other day, and I had two options.  One, I could go with a Superman caption in which Superman has to deal with feminization.  Or second, I could do a cosplay caption in which a particularly feminine boy is convinced to be Supergirl by his friends.   I chose to go with Superman.

I'm not that familiar with Superman.  I've watched the movies from the 80s, and I watched the most recent movie.  But I never read any comics or anything.  I wouldn't even call myself a fan, really.  I"m acquainted with the character, but don't know much about the mythology.  So, for this caption, I had to do research, which was kind of fun.  I had no idea the comic book heroes had such deep narratives.

Anyway, here it is!

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Movie Stars Aren't Always What They're Cracked Up To Be

Finally, I get to write a sex scene.  It's been a while, so I hope I nailed it.  I kid a little, but they're really hard to write.  And it's not about the actual actions; it's about the transitions from, say, foreplay to the act itself.  Or position changes.  That's what I struggle with, at least.  Maybe others don't find it so difficult.

But I've been wanting to try to integrate a meaningful character realization into a sex scene for a while.  Sometimes, I've been successful, but other times, it's felt like sex for sex's sake.  I hope this feels a little more meaningful than that, though.

Movie Stars Aren't Always What They're Cracked Up To Be

The first time I met my soul mate, I barely even noticed him.  I know, we all want to believe in love at first sight, and maybe it exists, but love is more than just a feeling you get when you first meet someone.  It's bigger than that.  It's lasting...

I'm not really good at explaining these things, but I think people confuse lust with love a lot of the time.  But when that lust turns into something deeper, they remember it as love at first sight.  It doesn't matter that they have felt the exact same thing dozens of times before, and it never went any further.  No, we don't remember those.  We remember that one time where it all worked out.

I guess this is a long way of saying that I don't really believe in love at first sight anymore.  Once, I thought I did.  I would have sworn that I had felt it before.  But I don't feel the need to romanticize the first time I meet someone anymore.  Maybe I've grown up.  Or maybe I'm just more cynical now.  I don't know.

Anyway, when I first met Harry, he didn't really catch my eye.  I was a little caught up in being me, and...well, I only had eyes for a certain type of person.  You know the type:  the dominant ones.  The strong ones.  The people who, when you look at them, you swoon a little.  And Harry's not really any of those things.

I mean, he's strong in his own way.  And he can be dominant when he needs to be.  And now, I do get that feeling every time I look at him.  But at first glance, he's not really anything like that.  In fact, when you first meet him, he's kind of the opposite.

It was only a few months after the show had finished airing, and I was riding high.  Each time I looked in the mirror, I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was absolutely gorgeous.  Before the show, I was a pretty boy.  I didn't really wear makeup (sometimes I did, but just a little).  I didn't wear my hair in a particularly feminine fashion.  And there were traces -- barely visible -- of the fact that I was a boy.

But by the time I finished the show, that had all changed.  My face had softened a little (don't ask me how -- the doctor said it had something to do with fat distribution), and I had started to wear makeup.  And I'd completely embraced feminine hairstyles.  Then there was my body...I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I have a great body -- a female body.   It's like my body was a blank canvas, and the hormones were the paint. 

And that gave me confidence.  I knew that when women looked at me, they were jealous.  And when men looked at me, they wanted me.  I'm a little ashamed to say that I reveled in the attention.

So I was a beautiful celebrity, coming off of a hugely successful project.  Needless to say, I fielded offers everyday, ranging from television cameos to movies.  I'm not an actor, but they didn't care.  They wanted to cash in on my fame.

I guess I should have taken advantage of it; I mean, I was one of the few people like me who had ever become so famous or accepted.  I should have used it to launch some sort of program for boys and girls who felt like they didn't belong, that society would never accept them for who they were.  I wish I had.  In fact, maybe I still will.

But I was wrapped up in my own life at the time.  And the men...they came out of the woodwork.  Some were famous.  Some weren't.  I met them at parties.  I met them at movie premiers.  There were even some women who tried to snare my attention.  I don't know what they were thinking.  I mean, most weren't gay or anything.  Was I a woman to them, even though I still had my...you know?  Is that how society viewed me?

It doesn't matter, I guess. 

But I met Harry at a meeting; he was a young executive with a well-known movie studio, and they were pitching me a role in a movie.  It wasn't a big role, or anything -- just a few lines.  I don't even remember what it was about.  There were almost a dozen people in the room, but I only really noticed one person -- Kip Hayes.  Yes, that Kip Hayes.

He was so handsome -- he looked like he had been chiseled from marble.  And that smile...

I swear, it felt like there was no one else in the room when we locked eyes.  I wanted him.  He wanted me.  There was no doubt. 

After the meeting, he invited me back to his place.  Of course, I went.  How could I not?  He was one of the biggest movie stars in the world.  Never mind that he was the epitome of male sexuality.  I couldn't even being to say no.

When we got back to his place, he started to ask if I wanted a drink, but I didn't hesitate.  I practically attacked him.  He tasted like a man ought to taste.  He smelled like a man should smell.  And he felt...well, you get the picture.

He practically ripped my dress off, and I could see it in his eyes.  I was everything he hoped I would be.  And that felt good.  We all want to be wanted, I guess.

His tongue on my nipple.  The gentle kisses along my bare tummy.  The feel of my panties sliding down my legs.  And then, his mouth enveloping my penis, tonguing it, kissing it.  My manicured hand found the back of his head, buried in a tangle of curly hair.  Ecstasy.  I leaned my head back, and let out a moan. 

When he came up for air, I looked down at his handsome, rugged face.  A trail of saliva ran from his mouth to my semi-erect penis.  And I smiled. 

It wasn't long before I was lying on his couch, my legs spread as he knelt between them. HIs fingers were buried in my anus as he dutifully licked and sucked. 

But I wanted more than a finger or two inside of me. 

Did I expect Kip Hayes to have a small penis?  No, not at all.  I guess that's why he was so good at oral sex; he had to make up for it somehow.  But when I got on my knees, and pulled his pants down...let's just say that he was a bit under-endowed.  He wasn't tiny, but I would definitely put him in the below average category. 

I tried not to let my disappointment show.  And as I bent over, and he entered me, I acted my heart out.  I screamed and I moaned.  But I didn't mean any of it.

You have to understand; up until that point, I had been mostly with porn stars.  And so, I was used to a certain size.  And Kip...well, Kip just wasn't up to the task.

Looking back, I know I went home with the wrong person that day.  I should have noticed the way Harry looked at me in the meeting.  I should have seen him trying to work up the courage to talk to me.  But that would come later, I guess.

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Sissy in Denial Caption -- New Swimsuit

I really like this picture, but the story is just more of the same for me.  It's just another sissy in denial caption.  I'm kind of in a bit of a rut, in terms of story ideas.  I'm going to spend a little time over the next few days trying to figure out some new themes. 

That's not saying that I'm not proud of my captions lately -- I am.  The writer in me just wants there to be more variety in them.

On a completely unrelated note, I just wanted to let you all know about something that's been bugging me for the last few days.  I got an email from Smashwords (where A Warrior Reborn is published), telling me that Paypal has started a crusade against what they consider obscene content (erotica containing rape, incest, etc.), and that any works considered "obscene" should be unpublished by the authors (or the people who run the site would do it for them). 

I completely understand where Smashwords is coming from - most of their (and other online retailers') business is done through Paypal.   They basically didn't have a choice.  What bugs me, though, is that Paypal is trying to dictate to us all what is and is not "obscene". 

I don't get off on rape fantasies or incest, personally, but I know that some people do.  I also know that they're just that - fantasies.  I'm not advocating the acceptance of such actions; what I'm saying is that we're all adults, and we all know the difference between fantasy and reality. 

I don't know why it bugs me so much that Paypal is using its financial muscle to try to dictate morality to us all.  It just does; I have a hard time explaining it.

I'm not going to tell you to boycott Paypal or any of the retailers who have caved to its demands.  I just want you all to have the information.  It might be fiction containing rape and incest now, but tomorrow, it might be Gay and Lesbian erotica.  Or it could be forced feminization erotica.  Or, heck, it might be erotica in general.  Where does it stop?

Anyway, that's just me ranting a bit.  Thanks for reading!

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The Begnining of my Life in the Spotlight

I went with a little bit different tone with this installment; I wanted it to feel more conversational.  I'm not sure if it works or not (you'll all be the judge of that), but I enjoyed writing it.  I think this has turned out to have a bit of a memoir feel to it, which is really cool.  However, it doesn't have as much sex in it as I originally intended, so it might not appeal to everyone who reads this blog (I know why you all come here!).  But for those of you who like to see the growth of a different sort of character, enjoy.  I also apologize for any typos or grammatically incorrect sentences.  Sometimes I start typing a sentence and realize it doesn't work, so I start to replace it and miss a word here or there.  Please try to ignore those.

The Beginning of my Life in the Spotlight

Fame is a tricky thing, especially when it's sudden.  One second, you're anonymous; people don't notice you.  You fade into the background.  And then, like a switch has been flipped, everywhere you go, people recognize you.  Every sideways look, each glance in your direction, you think they're gawking.  Maybe they do know who you are.  Or maybe it's all in your head.  But the fact remains that you just can't hide anymore, no matter how much you want to.

When I agreed to do the reality show, I never thought in a million years that I'd actually get famous.  Sure, I thought that I might get recognized by a select group of people, but nothing like what actually happened.

I think it was about eight months after the show began filming (and about 2 months after it started airing online) when I first realized that life as I knew it was over.  I was actually in a really good place, physically and mentally.  My body's changes had sort of plateaued, and I had begun to accept the new me as, well, just me. 

According to the doctor, I had reacted to the hormones in a very interesting way -- the changes had occurred at an accelerated pace.  What normally takes 12-18 months took my body around 6-8 months.  He couldn't really explain it, either.  All he could do was guess that it had something to do with the way my body processed hormones.

But I'm not a doctor.  I don't really care why things happened the way they did.  My breasts had grown to almost a C cup, and my body had rounded out to a more feminine shape.  It's hard to explain; it's just my body, you know?  Anyway, I don't have to describe it -- my body isn't a mystery to many people in this country these days.

So -- fame.  It's so weird getting recognized in public by perfect strangers.  Most are nice about it, offering words of encouragement, but some are just downright nasty about it.  And for me, being who and what I am, the nasty ones...but that's not what I wanted to talk about.  I'm not going to complain about bigots.  That's not my style.

Anyway, I had long since moved on from doubts about my decision to start taking hormones, so it was kind of disconcerting for strangers to tell me that it would be okay, and that they thought I had made the right decision.  It was just after the episode in which I cried had aired, and apparently, it had gone viral.  I don't know if A.V.A. was behind it, but it propelled the show from a niche semi-porn gimmick to something else.  The world hadn't ever seen anything like our show; we blended so many genres.  And all the while, we were unapologetically sexual. 

I read once that the show wouldn't have worked with anyone else.  They said that I had the perfect combination of innocence, sexuality, and vulnerability that made it easy for audiences to connect with me.  I don't know about all of that.

What I do know is that my show became something of a cultural phenomenon.  What does that say about our culture?  Does it mean that our society is progressive enough to lay aside the fact that I'm so very different?  Or am I akin to a circus freak to them?  I don't know.  I want to believe the former.  I really do.   But I can't escape the feeling that it's the latter.  It might be completely untrue, and I'm still just that insecure boy I've always been (despite my very feminine and admittedly sexy body).   I want to escape that insecurity; that's why I'm writing all of this down.  That's why I've been in therapy for close to four years now. 

So, there I was - a veritable pop culture icon.  I'm thankful that the opportunity presented itself, and I certainly don't regret agreeing to do it.  But I'm so, so glad that it only lasted for one season.  They offered me so much money to come back (way more than I made elsewhere), but I just couldn't handle it anymore.  The cameras following my every move made personal relationships all but impossible (though I did try).  Sometimes, I would manage to forget they were there, but most of the time, I was painfully aware of their presence.  It affected my every decision, my every move.  And that kind of thing can wear on a person, you know?

But it opened a lot of doors for me.  I did talk shows and news programs; they didn't look at me as a porn star.  They talked to me like I was a person...like I was respected.  They accepted me.  They had to, I guess.  Their audience demanded it. 

I don't know.  I guess I'm rambling a little with this one.  That time in my life was so hectic that I scarcely remember the details. 

I recently read an article in Newsweek about me (I didn't contribute to it at all) which claimed that I kick-started a revolution in the entertainment industry, and in more way than one.  It even went on to say that my popularity helped pioneer our country's increased acceptance of transgendered people.  I actually blushed while reading it. 

I won't argue that it didn't help our society progress, but it's not like we did anything special, you know?  We didn't go out and protest.  We didn't get any laws passed.  We just let the audience see what it was like for a person going through a monumental change.  And they kept their eyes open.  People, I think, were just looking for something like our show.  Maybe not specifically, but they wanted to see us as people just like anyone else.  They wanted to see our problems.  They wanted to see us laugh.  And they wanted to see us cry.

And they saw me cry. 

But that was only the beginning of my life in the spotlight.

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Sissy Son Caption -- New PJs

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Hypnotized Sissy Caption -- Swapping One Oral Fixation with Another

I've always liked revenge stories.  In fact, the revenge fantasy is how I got my start writing in this genre (with the Omar Bell Universe).  And this caption is no exception.  Hope you all like it!

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Tears

I've been working towards this scene for a while; it's a pretty emotional situation.  I'm not sure I did it justice, but I hope that if I didn't, you can use your imagination a bit.  Try to put yourself in that character's shoes.

As for the experiment, I think it's making me a better writer.  Sometimes, I have trouble finding a cut-off point for a particular scene, but with this, I'm finding that I can end a scene anywhere I want.  And then I can take it wherever I want.  I don't have to show everything.  I don't have to do anything but convey emotion to make it a good story.  And that's fun.  Different than my typical style, but fun all the same.

Hope it's fun for you all too!

Tears

I remember the firs time I looked in the mirror, and I realized that I had breasts.  It's such a vivid memory, you know.  You'd think that I would have been looking for the changes every day, but my life at that time was really, really busy.  I had photo shoots.  I had movies to film.  Basically, I had a very full itinerary (they didn't want me to lack for things to do), so I just didn't have time to think about it very much.

Anyway, it happened when I first got out of bed one morning.  I leaned over, and I felt it -- there was a slight weight on my chest.  It wasn't big or distracting; it was just there.  It all came crashing down in my mind then.  I reached up, and cupped a distinct breast.  It's not like it was big or anything -- it wasn't even an A cup.  But it was a breast all the same.  It was unmistakeable.

Even so, I had to see it to believe it.  Mere touch wouldn't be enough.  So I went to my trusty bathroom mirror, and sure enough, there they were -- two budding breasts.  My nipples had grown slightly darker as well.

I didn't know how to feel about it.  I thought I wanted them.  It made so much sense when I thought about it rationally.  But it's one thing to decide to take hormones; it's something completely different to actually see the results.  I was so confused back then; I had no idea who I was.  Sure, I put on a brave face.  I acted so confident in my decisions, but at the end of the day, I wasn't sure about anything.  I didn't know if I wanted my body to change.  I didn't know that I really wanted to be in pornographic movies.  I didn't even know for sure if I preferred men or women.

All of that uncertainty battled in my mind as I looked at my new, budding breasts.

Is it true that our actions define us?  I don't know.  I've done a lot of things that I didn't really want to do at the time.  Have I always been scared to say no?  There's such a disconnect between what I do and what I think that sometimes, I don't even know what's real.  Am I simply a worrisome person?

As the doubts built to a crescendo, I couldn't help it.  I burst into tears.  To this day, I'm not sure what upset me so much; the decisions were made.  I had committed to the course.  And outwardly, I wanted it.  But then there were the tears, those damning tears. 

Did it mean that I didn't want my body to change?  I don't know.

I think I cried for almost an hour.  At some point, I moved from the bathroom to the bed, but I don't remember how.  So there I was, naked and curled up on my bed, crying my eyes out.  And the cameras caught every single moment.

I think that's when the program changed from simple novelty porn to something else.  Had they banked on something like that?  I don't know.  But how could they have known?

In that moment, though, I became a person to the audience.  I wasn't just some swishy little porn star.  I was just a boy going through an extremely difficult time, a time of change. 

Could I have done it again, if I tried?  Probably not.  Would I have let go if I had even remembered that the cameras were there?  Definitely not.  But it happened, and that day changed my life in incalculable ways.

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Transformed Sissy Caption -- A Bit of a Rut

I really thought this picture ended up looking really, really good.  And the caption, while not terribly original, is fun.  So -- good caption!

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Feminization Movie Cover -- James Bond

It's rare that I know what I'm going to do with a particular picture when I find it.  Usually, it takes a little thought for me to figure out the story I want to tell.  But sometimes, I know exactly what the caption/project is going to be when I finish.  I have a clear vision of where it's going to go.  And with this picture, I knew as soon as I looked at it that I wanted to do a James Bond theme.

It started out like this:

Nice picture, I know.  I'm actually using this same model for another caption sometime soon (though you'll hardly be able to tell it's her).  Anyway, I knew that I wanted to do the famous gun barrel shot.  It kind of fit.  Yes, I know the gun and the stance isn't exactly right, but in my little story, Bond has been through a lot.   But once I constructed the piece, I knew something was off -- there was a seriously glaring difference between the photo and the art style of the gun barrel.  So I went to work -- painting here and there to give it a little different look.

It took a while, but eventually I was happy with it.  It actually didn't look like a photo at all -- just a really nifty painting.  But when I put it in place, it was still wrong.  There was too much color.  So, I made it black and white...which was too bright.   I fiddled with the brights and darks for about twenty minutes before I was happy with it. 

So there I was, with a really cool scene, but I still didn't know if I wanted to make a caption.  But then I realized -- it already looked like a movie poster.  Why not just go with that?

So I made a movie poster.

I know it's not really up to the same level as some of the classic movie posters, but I'm still pleased with it.  It could have been better (and it actually was -- I had to do the thing twice because of a save error), but I still like it.  You'll probably notice that I put a little 007 in the background and removed her tattoo as well.  I think both changes add to the overall effect.

So what's the story here? 

I like to think that one of Bond's enemies captured and feminized him (via some sort of off-the-wall pseudo-scientific means).  But it could easily be any number of neat little stories.  Use your imagination!

Anyway, that's my little post for now.  I hope you enjoy the attempt at doing something a little different from my normal captions.

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Female Domination Caption -- It's all about the sex.

This one is a little different than most of my captions, but I think it's fun.  Hope you all like it.

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Sissy and Proud Billboard

You all know that I enjoy making advertisements and/or fake billboards.  I think it's because of a combination of reasons, though.

First, I like the message behind most of them.  Be who you are.  Don't let anyone tell you that you're somehow worse simply because you're different.  I know it's sappy, but I think it needs to be said sometimes. 

And second, I like to test my skills.  It's very gratifying to finish one of these, and, when I look at it, I know that it's as good (or sometimes better) than whatever I'm trying to mimic.  Yes, sometimes, I do these just to stroke my own ego.  I'm a prideful person, and I'm not ashamed to admit that.  I think it's healthy to take pride in your work. 

Anyway, I guess that's all just a preamble to the following billboard.

It's funny.  I fully intended to put a watermark on here.  I even thought about just sticking the blog's url at the bottom.  But it just didn't look right.  I guess it looked too cluttered or something. 

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Almost

I haven't had the time to work on a new installment over the last day or so.  Part of that is because I was working on a new set of captions for my Imagefap profile (which can be found HERE). The other part is that I've been really, really busy with my real work over the past week, and I just haven't been able to find the time to sit down and write this story.

That said, I love this installment.  I'm loving how this character is growing before our eyes.  He's turning into a three-dimensional character, and I never really expected that from this writing experiment.  In fact, I didn't expect it to go on this long, really.  But there's still a ways to go, so I'm excited about it.

Almost

I've always wanted to not care whether people love me or hate me.  I see all of these people, just letting criticism slide by like it means nothing.  Or worse yet, there are people who can actually take that criticism and apply it to whatever they're doing so that they get better.  But I'm not one of those people.  I know, rationally, that I shouldn't care about the people who personally attack me (for any number of reasons), but I can't help it.  I do care.  I feel every single insult; I might not show it, but they're always there, eating at me.  And don't get me started on constructive criticism.  That's the worst kind because I know that it's not personal.  But I know that on some levels, it is.  It's my work, it's my life that they're criticizing.  And it hurts.

With my life being what it is, you'd think I would've gotten used to it all.  The sheer number of people who have opinions about me is absolutely staggering.  And even the ones who want to identify with me an be annoying sometimes.  You know the ones -- everyone has a friend or family member who has been through the exact same thing, and they think that it makes them understand you.  It's a load of crap, if you ask me.  How can anyone understand my life if they haven't lived it?  If someone has gone through something similar, yes, they understand; they get it.  And we can talk about it.  But a friend of a friend or a long lost family member?  Please.

I guess I'm a little worked up with this entry, and it's not hard to understand why.  I had this inescapable fame thrust upon me; I wasn't expecting it.  I hadn't planned for it.  I didn't want the entire world to know me.  Seeing me naked or having sex was one thing -- with that, I was playing a character.  But letting them into my life, letting them see the real me, with all of my flaws and personality quirks...it's so exhausting.  I should be used to it by now; I really should.  But some days...it just gets to me.

So where was I?  Oh yes, the beginning of my new career...

I told you about the concept, but I may have made it sound like just a typical reality program.  It was, and it wasn't.  I mean, most reality programs don't contain hardcore porn, do they?  I still had a job to do; I still had movies to shoot.  And the cameras caught everything.  But to their credit, they didn't focus on those scenes.  They had to acknowledge them, right?  That was the hook -- get them interested in me so they'd pay to watch those movies.   But they wanted to focus on my everyday life.  Sure, there was still a lot of nudity (a particular favorite was watching me shower), but that's not a big deal.  I've gotten comfortable like that.

At first, I was so aware of the camera following me around, but as the days dragged on, I kind of forgot about them at times.  The crew was just part of the landscape as I went about my daily life.

And my daily life was...strange.  My job notwithstanding, I was going through a lot of changes during that first year. 

It was strange, going to the doctor with a camera crew in tow. Never mind that I was going to get my first prescription of anti-androgens and female hormones.  It was one of the few times I truly got nervous during the filming; I knew my condition might keep me from being able to safely take the hormones.  I didn't care that the doctor had said it should be okay -- that was over the phone.  This was a real examination. 

As it turned out, I shouldn't have been worried.  My condition was completely irrelevant.  No, that's not true.  In fact, the doctor said that I should expect better results simply because my body had never gone through a real puberty (I wanted to argue the point, but, well, it wasn't worth it to point out that I had gone through something like puberty in high school).  He detailed the changes I should expect:  softening of my skin, decrease in muscle mass, increase in body fat, a more feminine pattern of that body fat, nipple and breast growth, slower growth of facial and body hair (like that was ever a problem for me), and a decrease in testicular size.

I know all that sounds really clinical, but I guess that's because I watched that episode of the show like a dozen times in that first year.  I practically memorized what the doctor said. I guess it was fear; I mean, I was never much of a man to begin with.  I've talked about it enough.  But this was different.  Taking these hormones would change me into something else.  And I wanted it.  I told myself so every day...but it was still so scary.  I have a hard time explaining it, I guess. 

But the gist was that my body would take on a more womanly shape over the course of the next year or so.  The doctor said that it might take a little less time for the hormones to start to take effect, but the changes would be gradual. 

I remember standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, pills in hand, staring at my reflection for almost twenty minutes.  It seemed like hours.  I was naked, staring at my body; there was no camera crew.  It was just me, my thoughts, and my body. 

I looked at myself.  In a year's time, a different person would be looking back.  I'm not naive.  I knew, even then, that the changes wouldn't just be physical.  And I'm not talking about male and female thoughts.  I'm talking about my perception of myself and how other people looked at me.  Would I grow more confident as I grew more womanly?  Or would I retreat into a shell?  I did want it.  It made so much sense.  But there were lingering doubts. 

After about twenty minutes, I simply put the pills in my mouth, and swallowed. 

There.  It was done.  It's funny, thinking of it now, but I panicked.  I almost stuck my finger in my throat to gag myself, to get the pills out before they did anything to me.  Almost...

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