Now the time I had been waiting for had finally arrived, or so I thought. I woke up the next morning, groggy and disoriented, only to discover that the surgery was already done. As I gingerly looked down, I saw my new vagina for the first time. But instead of feeling elated, I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me. The sight of my swollen and bruised flesh was not what I had expected - it looked ugly and foreign. I couldn't help but wonder if the doctors had made a mistake. But they reassured me that the swelling was temporary, and that with time, my body would heal and transform.
The pain was excruciating, like someone had wedged a shovel between my legs. I was bedridden for the first day, unable to move. And then there was dilating - a crucial part of my recovery, but a torturous process nonetheless. People would say it felt good, likening it to masturbation, but that's a lie! For me, it was a painful, three-times-a-day ordeal. But I persisted, knowing it was necessary for my healing. After six months, I graduated to once-daily dilating, and the discomfort gradually subsided. And as the months passed, my vagina began to transform - the swelling receded, and it started to look and feel more like I had envisioned. It was getting 'cuter and cuter,' and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment
After a year of recovery, I finally felt ready to take the next step - having sex. I had heard all the myths and misconceptions, and I was determined to prove them wrong. I shared my decision with Henry, who had already started cheating on me while I was still healing. I had allowed it, not wanting to deprive him of intimacy, but the painful truth was that he was cheating on me with women. Despite this betrayal, I was focused on my own journey and discovery. I was ready to explore my own sexuality and pleasure, regardless of Henry's infidelity.
The moment of truth had finally arrived - I was a woman, not just in body, but in spirit. I was Alexis, no longer Alex. As I stood at this threshold, I felt an overwhelming urge to reconnect with my family, to share my journey with them. But a nagging fear held me back - what if they rejected me, or worse, exposed me to ridicule and shame? I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present. Tonight, I would experience intimacy as a fully transitioned woman, a milestone I had worked tirelessly towards. My first night with a man as Alexis was a moment of truth, a chance to embrace my newfound identity and sensuality.
Henry's size was intimidating, and our first encounter was far from pleasant. I bled, and the sex was uncomfortable - my vagina was tight, and I couldn't help but wonder if the myths about bottom surgery were true. But Henry was patient and determined to improve, and as we continued to explore each other, I discovered that the myths were just that - myths. My vagina was capable of self-lubrication, eliminating the need for artificial lubricants. I was also able to experience orgasms, a testament to my body's remarkable healing abilities. And contrary to fears, my vagina had fully healed, leaving no open wounds or permanent damage. With each intimate encounter, I gained confidence in my body and its capabilities.