Losing My Maleness To Become A Girl Ch. 03

Peter stayed with me as the anaesthetist weighed me. He was smiling at me as the surgeon explained the operation and the likely time it would take. I must have looked nervous because Peter kept stroking my hand asking me to relax.

"I really love that you are doing this. You will become my wife for real."

he said as I began the final preparations.

I had not been allowed to eat the night before and I was shaved around my pubic area. One last look at my penis before the surgical gown came down and I lay on the gurney for the administering of the anaesthetic. Peter kissed me gently on the lips and gave my hand a squeeze as the anaesthetist asked me to count to 10. One, two and I was out.

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The next thing I remember is waking up groggy and confused. I felt a great degree of pain in my crotch and there were tubes coming from my crotch area and my hand. I could feel my bladder emptying via a catheter and I wondered how the op had gone. The surgeon came to see me after about an hour and told me that the op had gone very well. He said that there had been plenty of room to create a deep vagina, labia minora and majora and a "very fine" clitoris.

"One of the best I've ever done!"

he said proudly smiling at me.

He explained that I would be in pain for a while. With the vaginoplasty they had tunnelled in deep beneath my pubic bone and for this reason I would need painkillers for a little longer than usual. But it would be worth it, he explained, as I should have an operational vagina within 6 months. In the meantime I could use pethadine self –administered by my bed. As he was talking to me Peter came in and spoke to the surgeon. I heard Peter asking him when we could do "it" and the surgeon laughed saying that he would have to wait; I had had a major operation; and a lot depended on how the vagina developed post-surgery.

I lay in bed most of the time. When the nurses changed the dressing I could not really see what had been created. It looked a bloody mess, swollen and red. After a week I was released from the hospital. I still felt pain between my legs but it was gradually lessening. I still took oral painkillers and antibiotics for home, and I was issued with a series of dilators. The dilators would help my vagina turn into a proper tunnel without closing up. The surgeon told me to use them regularly, diligently, and strictly as this was the key to a successful sex change. On his last examination of me on the day I left the hospital he told me that it really had gone very well and he was confident that I would have a sensitive functioning vagina able to enjoy good sexual intercourse.

Peter drove me home and seemed ecstatic. He held the car door open for me as we arrived home and helped me up the steps as I walked gingerly to our front door. At the door he asked me to stop and lifted me up over the steps into our home. He brought me into the living room and lay me down while he went to make me a cup of tea. I was being well looked after. I could tell he was horny as well: he asked me when we would be able to fuck. I could not really answer as I myself did not know but I explained that the doctor had said about 6 months but could be sooner. That night I sucked Peter off for hours. I felt he had a new dominance over me. I no longer had a penis. I had been permanently emasculated and feminised for him and I was enjoying that he liked me as a woman now to use as he wanted. And there was something more complete to me now that I had been gelded for him. I loved the fact that he had the dick now and I had lost mine. It seemed more natural.

After a week we were back to having anal sex. Hard, deep and sometimes brutal, Peter was now completely in charge of me. Now, if I asked him to slow down he would not. He seemed to think it his right to fuck me hard even when I was objecting. I was sometimes a little afraid of him. I felt I had no choice but to serve him now and I think he knew that. He also seemed frustrated that my vagina was taking time to develop.

"Keep using them dilators."

Peter told me.

And I did. Every day, religiously. For the first few months I had no sensation at all down there and I was concerned that the op had failed. The surgeon entreated me to have patience as the nerves took time to heal. So I carried on, gradually using larger dilators. After the third month I started to feel a little more when I dilated my pussy. At first very slight, the sensation grew each day. By the 4th month there was a definite increase of pleasure when I dilated with the dildo and on about day 120 I experienced my first little orgasm. It was small but a definite feeling of lightness and shuddering. Of course it helped that I was looking at Peter in the shower at the time, his long pendulous black organ and heavy balls swinging back and forth as he showered himself. But that moment was a benchmark in my journey to become Peter's woman.

One night shortly after, as Peter was fucking my ass he reached down to my pussy and asked if it was ready yet. I was apprehensive as I was worried about him damaging me, particularly as he fucked me so aggressively and I explained that I thought it would be soon. He asked if he could lick my pussy and, thinking that he could not do too much damage, I agreed. I lay on my back and felt his bearded chin gently licking my clitoris and labia. There was no doubting I loved it. He was an expert pussy licker – I could tell he loved women – and his gentle nibbles and caresses with his tongue gave me enormous pleasure. So much so that I orgasmed the moment his tongue entered my pussy. My back arched and I screamed:

"Peter!"

as his long tongue invaded me. He didn't stop. He buried his face into my pussy holding my legs apart with his strong arms. Wave after wave of ecstasy spasmed through me. I was overjoyed. So was he. After an hour of intense licking me out he positioned himself kneeling at my pussy, his erect angry dick at my opening.

"I don't know Peter. It's maybe too early."

I said.

"Relax. I will go slowly."

he whispered. I was now so sexually worked up that I didn't want to say no. Peter held his dick with his right hand gently rubbing my clitoris and lips, his precum moistening my pussy so that it glistened. He applied some lube and gradually pushed his dick with more force, rubbing it firmly around my new labia. I was loving it and lay back moaning. He was getting me used to his dick being at my pussy entrance. Nothing though could prepare me for what happened next.

I looked down and saw the head of his dick at my pussy entrance. Still held with his hand, Peter would insert a little and then withdraw rubbing his cock around my clit. Gradually he inserted more of his dick so that it was inserted without guidance from his hand. With 2 inches in, I looked nervously at him, but he smiled and pushed a little further in. By now he had gotten deeper into me than his tongue earlier in the evening, and I was not sure if I could take it. But I could. And he knew it as well. He slowly worked his full length into me, so that he lay on top of me missionary style. I remember thinking how different it felt to my ass when he penetrated me. I could feel the heat and rigidity of his dick deep inside me in a way I had not been able to with anal penetration. He lay still on top of me and asked:

"How does that feel Chrissy?"

And in truth it was the most wonderful thing I have ever felt. I felt his invasion of me, deep, hot and personal. I felt his complete domination of me, his complete control and maleness. I felt I was part of him.

""It's wonderful Peter!" I said.

And I was crying with happiness. I was now a woman. His woman. And I could satisfy him sexually with what he wanted. He kissed me very tenderly and said:

"This pussy feels great. It's tight and hot."

And we kissed long and hard. At one stage he lifted his head and I could see him with spit on his mouth. I opened my mouth and let it drop into me greedily swallowing his DNA. Seeing that, he started fucking me slowly at first. Words cannot describe the pleasure I felt as his 14 inch black manhood stretched my pussy, the head of his dick hitting the extremes of my deeply moulded vagina. With my hands on his ass I felt his powerful thrusts start jack hammering into me. My nails, long and varnished, pressed into his ass cheeks drawing blood as he fucked me, turning me into his fully functioning woman. He did not care of the pain from my nails in his ass as he was equally enthralled with the sex. He had a look of intense concentration as he ploughed away on top of me. I shuddered orgasm after orgasm until finally he came. Again I remember the heat of his cum as he ejaculated deep inside of me. I could actually feel jets of his sperm hitting my pussy as he came, violent erratic shudders coursing through his body. And he came and came still on top of me as he emptied his balls. Slowing down he still lay on top of me as his orgasm waned. I don't think his dick left my pussy for around 4 hours that night. We fucked in many different positions. He loved me sitting astride him as he played with my tits. I loved it when he fucked me doggy, hard and fast, using me like a dirty slut as he held onto my hips, his dick anchoring in and out like a piston.

And from that moment on we have enjoyed a healthy sex life as man and woman. I am now able to function sexually as a woman; I look and dress like a woman; and I behave like a woman. I think in retrospect I could not have started this journey without someone as dominant as Peter. He was always "large and in charge" in a way that allowed me, or rather commanded me to take on a subservient feminine role. I didn't know it was in me until I met him but he brought it out of me. When I look at myself in the mirror most mornings I see a woman whose hair is messed up with smudged lipstick and mascara. Peter's cum is dripping out of my pussy and I sometimes look tired and used. It is a long way since I was a young man on the gay scene. But I am happy. Deliriously happy and I know I have taken the right path in life. I am Peter's woman now and I have made the change to make him happy.