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My Unwanted Transition

My Unwanted Transition
Prologue:
My name is Jason, or at least it was. Eighteen months agoI began to have strange pains, and for six
monthsno doctor could tell me what was wrong. The pains grew worse over time, and it felt like my
body was going to twist itself apart. That ache was all over, like my bones themselves were breaking
apart inside of me. Then, about a year ago, I was referred to a specialized team. They didn’t tell me
what kind of team it was, but neither Inor my parents pressed it too much as we were willing to try
anything at that point.
The new, unique team, as they were called, ran many tests on me. They did bloodwork, scans,
therapy, almost anything you could think of. While waiting to hear back from them, my symptoms
continued to get worse. The little bit of muscle tone I hadsoftened up, and it wasn’t much to start with.
Of course, the pain continued, coming in rolling waves throughout the day and even waking me up at
night.
My interest in having a sexual relationship with my girlfriend diminished. In fact, my interest in even
masturbating diminished. There was also a rather weird symptom as well. The hair onmy body
lightened up and became thinner, and my facial hair slowed on growing in. That part I didn’t mind too
much.
On the day the call from the team finally came in, they didn’t give us any answers over the phone.
Instead, they wanted us to come in to meet with them in person. It was nerve-wracking that they
wanted us to come in person and wouldn’t give any information on the phone. The day after, we met
with them in person.
No amount of preparation could have prepared me or possibly any other person for what they said. I
was diagnosed with a freak genetic disorder that causes mutations in DNA. It apparently started when
I entered puberty and had slowly developed inside of my body as I grew older until it reached its
critical stage. That was just the beginning of it.
The mutated DNA had seized most of my body at that point, and they said that there was nothing
they could do to reverse it. They placed a very lengthy document in front of us which outlined the
procedure they had come up with in order to save my life. They explained that if I left the mutations
unchecked that it would cause my organs to malfunction, and I would die in less than a few years.
We started down the paper, listening to the explanation on the procedure. It all sounded like some
sort of weird, creepy movie or even like some kind of hentai. My body was being mutated into a
female,they told us. How in the world was something like that possible?
My body wasn’t going to be able to handle such a mutation since I was too old now. This procedure
of theirs was going to help with the transformation, as they called it. Somehow, they convinced me to
agree to this, and my parents were very supportive, thankfully. Even after their lengthy explanation, I
still didn’t fully understand what was going to happen. I just knew that I didn’t want to die.
I was in the facility for months. The same team supervised the entire procedure as they brought in
specialists from different fields to handle their part of the operation. It was a blur to me. I just
remember many people coming in and out and being rolled around to different rooms before being
put to sleep. On the last part of the procedure, I was told it could be dangerous, but that they were
confident in a positive result. Once againthey put me to sleep, and I was under for hours, they told
me. Many things had to be done to complete the procedure. I didn’t wake until a week later.
That was two months ago now, and after weeks of rehab, I am finally home. Everything is different
now. I look at the world differently, and the world looks at me differently. This was also the start of my
last month being home before I had to go back to work. Buthow was I supposed to go back to work
now? I’m a cashier at a grocery store, and I worked with my coworkers for a couple of years now, and
I know my customers, but not like this.
The procedure was very successful and the first of its kind. I was a crowning achievement in the
medical field. I was born a male and lived twenty years of my life as such. Now, I am a female, both
inside and out. It wasn’t just a sex change operation, but they utilized the mutating DNA to do a
complete change.
My bones were softened over time, and they managed to widen my hips some to support all the
proper female workings. Once there was sufficient space, ovaries formed, along with fallopian tubes.
They were already starting to grow, which was the cause of some of the pain I was experiencing then.
My male genitalia was removed, and they created space for a vagina; againmy body started to
naturally produce growth for it once space was made, and the team helped it along.
The hormone supplements balanced my body further and stimulated the growth of breasts and my
hair. My features softened even further, and my feet even shrunk some. The pain was gone now, and
I didn’t feel like I was dying anymore, but I didn’t know how I was going to live as a girl.
Day 1. Adjusting and challenges.
This was my first full day home, free of therapy and hormone supplements. I woke up about an hour
ago, and I just found myself lying in bed, not wanting to get up. My room was filled with stuff from my
life, from movie and gaming posters to figures and consoles and other things from my life as a male.
My clothing and shoes didn’t fit anymore. Everything was too big for my new smaller, slender body. I
had my current shorts tied to keep them from falling down.
“I’m never gonna get used to this,” I mumbled to myself.
I sat up and immediately felt the weight of my breasts. They weren’t huge or anything, but it was
definitely not what I was used to. The team had done my measurements before I left for home to
make the transition a little easier. My new breasts were “B” cups. I pulled myself from the bed and
walked to the mirror. A stranger looked back at me. It wasn’t me, but a girl. The new me, I sighed.
My face was soft and smooth now, my hair down to my shoulders. Underneath of my t-shirt, there
were two soft mounds of flesh. I lifted my shirt and brought my breasts into view. I disliked them for
being attached to me, for taking over my body, but still, they were sexy. My formerly plain nipples
were now well defined, and both of them hardened against the chillyroom air.
Next, I untied my shorts and slid them down. I waited for the waistband to snag my penis some, but
that moment didn’t come. Except for some pubic hair, everything was smooth between my legs now. I
took a few minutes and looked over my new body, getting used to the weight and feel of it as I was
forced to start this new life as a girl.
I made my way to the bathroom and instinctively raised the toilet seat. My hands quickly pulled the
front of my shorts down before I remembered that I wouldn’t be able to pee like that anymore.
Instead, I pulled my shorts down and took a seat. The feeling was incredibly weird. Not only the sitting
part, but there were new muscles involved as well. I finished my business and went on to the next
new task of having to wipe.
Even taking a shower was a brand new experience. My body was smooth; I had curvy hips and long
hair. I never imagined that something so simple could suddenly be filled with so many obstacles.
Washing my hair was a challenge now. It was long and thick and took a great effort to lather the
shampoo through it; rinsing it wasn’t easy either. I felt like I would never get all of the shampoo out of
it.
When I thought the challenge was over, it was just beginning. No amount of effort with the towel
seemed to get my hair dry, and it finally dawned on me why girls always wrapped a towel around their
head. I retrieved another towel, and with some practice, I managed to get it tied around my hair.
The last real challenge of the day was having my mom help comb and fix my hair. My attempt at
brushing and combing was met with a disaster of tangles. She tried to show me how to brush through
to get the tangles out. I took the comb and started from the root and made a long pass, all the way
down until the comb went off the tip of my hair. I continued the process on repeat with the rest of my
hair while my mom watched.
Day 2. More challenges and clothes shopping.
We were still in the process of working out an accommodation with my job, and in the meantimeI was
trying to figure a way to adjust to my new life. We had met with Human Resources at my job’s
corporate office and provided them with documentation of my procedure. Lucky for me, they
understood my reluctance to return to the same store location now that I was a girl. The delay in
returning to work proved to be beneficial to me as I wasn’t prepared to go back to a social life yet. Of
course, there was the mental aspect, but I also didn’t have clothes that fit anymore.
When we arrived at the store, I realized that this was my first real time being outside of the house
since being transitioned into a girl. My current clothes barely fit anymore. My shirt and pants were
loose since the shape and size of my body had changed so dramatically. My sneakers were too big
as well, as my feet were now smaller and more slender.
I followed my mom around the store as we browsed the woman’s sections. I felt completely out of
place in this department. There were bras, panties, dresses and so many other articles of clothing
that I never knew existed. The cart started to fill with various items, with my mom picking stuff out for
me. Each time she had me go to the fitting room, and I tried things on. Before long, I had bras,
panties, jeans, sneakers, whatever “flats” are and even heels. My mom either really enjoyed
shopping, or she was happy that I was a girl now.
“Do we really need all of this stuff?” I complained.
My mom turned to look at me, and I guess that she saw the upset expression on my face, because
she moved closer to console me.
“This is a lot for you to adjust to, I know, honey. And I know you didn’t ask for any of this, but I at
least want to provide you with everything you need. We can get stuff that isn’t so girly if you want as
well.”
We continued to shop, moving more toward things that I would prefer to wear. As I picked out things
like jeans and t-shirts that didn’t hug my body, my mom picked out stuff of the feminine variety. Some
hours later when we seemed to be finished, the cart was filled with all kinds of clothing. We carried it
all back to the car, and I switched shoes right away, slipping on a pair of sneakers that fit better.
Itfelt good to be back home, and I just left all of the clothes in the bags while I took a little nap. It felt
weird being in public as a girl and it took a lot of energy to get used to the change. I woke up about an
hour later and started to sort through the many clothes and bags. One article after another I pulled
from the bags and put away. It became a long process as I realized that I would have to start getting
rid of my former clothes. My closet and drawers emptied of my old stuff and were slowly replaced with
stuff for my new life.
When I finally finished putting everything away, it was time for dinner. I ate quietly and tried to avoid
too much conversation. My parents didn’t bother me too much either. I guess they were giving me
time to adjust. After dinner, I went right back to my room and watched television until I fell asleep.
Day 3. Return to work.
The sound of my alarm clock broke the peaceful silence in my room and abruptly woke me from the
good sleep I was having. I laythere for a few minutes before finally pulling myself out of bed so that I
could get ready to go to work. I didn’t actually have to work until next month when my medical release
was up, but Human Resources wanted to meet with me to discuss being transferred to another
location.
I showered and dried off, then commenced fighting with my long, thick hair. It was still a struggle
trying to get it dry and to comb it properly. After I had managed to brush the tangles out, I started to
look through my dresser, which was now filled with girly clothes. Hesitantly, I pulled out a pair of
panties and a bra. I tossed them over to the bed and rummaged for a pair of socks. My mom had
bought me girl socks, with different colors and designs, and knee high stockings as well.
I looked over at my new assortment of footwear and decided that the flats would have to work today
since I didn’t want to wear sneakers to a meeting and I wasn’t going to wear heels. With that decided,
I figured that I might as well wear the stockings too.
I sat on the bed and slipped the stockings on first, still not used to the thought of wearing a bra and
panties. The stockings fit tightly around my legs and felt soft and cool on my skin. Time ticked on, and
my mom called out to me that we would have to leave soon to make it to the meeting on time.
It came to mind that I did have boxer shorts still, so I went back to digging through my drawer and
pulled out a pair. I pulled them on, and before I could even move, they started to slide back down. My
frame was thinner now as a girl, and I felt derpy for thinking it would work. Back to the bed, I took the
boxers and dropped them right in the trash, then proceeded to put the panties on. As I slid them in
place around my hips, it hugged me so firmly all the way around. It felt weird as I expected, but I
figured that I might as well get used to it.
Next was the bra. The straps went around both of my arms, and I pulled it up to my breasts so that I
could hook it. Somehow I managed to get the hooks on pretty quickly, and I could feel the bra holding
my breasts in place. I brought my hands up and moved them around to get used to the feeling. The
rest of my outfit consisted of a button blouse and dress pants, with the pair of flats. I combed my hair
once more and tied it back neatly like my mom had shown me. Before leaving, I looked at myself in
the mirror to make sure that I looked decent. Surprisingly, I found that I did look a little good, even
though I still hated the change.
The meeting with Human Resources was just as annoying as I expected. My mom waited outside
while I met with him. He greeted me with a handshake, which was the first time I really felt that my
male strength had diminished. The power in my grasp wasn’t like it had been before when I was a
guy. I followed him to his office, and he gestured for me to go in first. As I went in and stopped by the
chair, I thought I saw him from the corner of my eye, looking at my butt. It was a feeling that I never
thought I would have, being checked out like that. It suddenly came to mind about all of the girls I
checked out. I felt bad about it now, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it at the moment.
“Okay, so we can get right down to it. I wanted to meet with you today so that we can make your
transition back into work as easy as possible for you. I know that you and your family have kept me
well informed about your progress through this tough time. I can’t even begin to imagine the
experience that you’ve been through with this. Before we start, I just wanted to clarify your preference
going forward. If I understood correctly, you want to go by the name Jenny now, is that right?”
“Yes, it’s Jenny now,” I answered. There was a slight chill in my body when he said my new name. It
was the first time someone aside from my parents had called me by it;well, except for the doctors.
“Okay, Jenny.” He smiled. “I just want to ask some questions and then go on to tell you about some
of the things we have done to try and ease this process. I also want to give you a chance to ask
questions or express any concerns that you have. This is really a new process for any of us here. We
do have individuals that work for us who are in transition, but never a case like yours.”
The meeting carried on with him doing most of the talking and asking questions. Some of them were
related to work capabilities and some to privacy. He explained which store I would be working at and
that no one in the store was told about my situation. The only thing anyone knew was that I was
transferring from another location.
Week 2. Getting the hang of it.
I was starting the second week of my new life and I still very much disliked the change, but at least I
was getting used to doing things as a girl. There was still a long way to go, though. The hardest thing
I had overcome so far was my hair. I had gotten used to combing, brushing and keeping it from
getting tangled. Wearing a bra and panties was still a work in progress as well. Like the first week
home, I spent most of my time inside, except for the one day I went grocery shopping with my mom.
I spent more time organizing my new clothes and removing clothes I wouldn’t be able to wear
anymore. The old clothing was bagged up so that we could donate it. My shoes had grown in
numbers, which I suppose made me fit right in as a girl. I had two pairs of boy sneakers, and now I
had a pair girl sneakers, flats, heels, and low cut boots.
As part of my transition and medical check ups, I had to keep a journal of any changes I noticed. I
had noted that there was a change in my appetite. Not too much, but I was eating a little less than I
used to. The rest of my notations were just my feelings on new things I had to do as a girl, like getting
used to lingerie.
By the end of the week, I had finished clearing out old clothes and moving the new stuff into their
proper places. I looked through them and started to one by one try on things I hadn’t worn yet. I
pulled out a pair of the jeans my mom had gotten for me and slid them on. They were tight and form
fitting, hugging my thighs, butt, and hips. I looked at myself in the mirror, and at my shape, with the
way, the jeans hugged me. Next, I tried a skirt and even the heels. I took a couple steps and almost
lost my balance before I managed to grab the dresser for support. AgainI started to move, this time
slower, and I managed to go in a circle around the room. I figured that was enough of that for one
day.
Week 3. Learning my new body.
I had been home for three weeks now, and I had noticed that hair was growing in on my legs and
underarms. It wasn’t something I had ever given much thought to as a guy. For the first few days I still
didn’t care much, but for some reason, I didn’t like the feel of having hair in those places.
For the first time, I left the house on my own and took a walk down to the pharmacy store. I wore a
simple t-shirt and jeans, with sneakers. It took a few blocks to get used to the jeans hugging my body.
At the store, I looked around and made my way to the shaving needs. I hadn’t actually shaved much
as a guy since my facial hair never really grew in. There were tons of different products, so I picked
out a pack of razors and some shaving cream.
The next morning, during my routine shower and maintenance, I proceeded to shave, starting with
my legs. I coated each leg in the shaving cream and carefully ran the blade along until I felt that I had
gotten them smooth once again. Next, I did my underarms, then showered. After the shower, I double
checked to make sure I had done an adequate job. My legs were smooth and had a shine to them. I
disliked it, but I was somehow happy with the job I did.
On Friday night, I turned in to bed early, feeling a little more tired than usual. I noted the tiredness in
my journal and went to sleep. I slept very well, and my dreams became erotic. My girlfriend was in
them, who I hadn’t seen in a long time and had been avoiding since coming home. She undressed
me and kissed along my body as she moved down. I felt myself getting hard, and she took me in her
hand and started to suck. I reached for her head as I felt her lips gliding along. She moved back up
and put me inside of her, working her hips up and down and around. I felt myself quickly building into
an orgasm.
I was pulled from the dream by a horn outside. My eyes opened, and I looked up at the ceiling. I felt
hot, and there was a throbbing down below. I immediately thought that I had morning wood, but then I
remembered that was impossible. Nonetheless, I did feel a throbbing sensation, so I reached down
and slipped my hands into my panties. My fingers passed over my clit, which felt swollen, and moved
further between my legs. The touch made me shiver some as I found myself to be incredibly wet. The
lips of my pussy were coated in wetness, and I pulled my hand back out to see. My fingers were wet
with a clear fluid. I squeezed my legs together some, and that sent a pleasant tingle through my body.
I was horny, very horny. I pushed my hand back down and touched my clit again, rubbing it, pressing
it, finding out what felt right. The sensations caused me to shiver even more. It drove me to continue,
tempting my fingers to tease more and more. I rubbed and touched myself, filling this female body of
mine with new-found pleasure. My hand seemed to gain a mind of its own as I masturbated, working
to find the right combination to make me orgasm. I felt it getting closer. It was a slow climb, much
different from how it felt being a guy. The spark was inside of me, growing and wanting to explode. I
became aware of how hard and quick my breathing had become, my hand now vigorously working
inside of my panties.
“Oh my God,” I said to myself in a breathy voice. “Oh my god, oh my god!” I repeated.
My body tensed up as the spark inside of me exploded and rushed through my body from head to
toe. I arched my back from the bed and squeezed my legs together. I opened my eyes and sat up,
then pulling the covers off. My panties were wet, so I slid them off. I touched between my legs again
to feel the wetness, then reached for my journal so that I could note that my girl part was working. It
felt magnificent, better than any I had as a guy, I think. Since it had been so long from the last time I
had an orgasm, I couldn’t fully compare the two.
During my morning shower, I found that I was more aware of myself as a girl. I mean, I had been a
girl for almost a month, but I had never fully thought about these girl parts actually belonging to me. It
was more like something I was just borrowing the last few weeks. As I washed up, I thought to myself
about each part. These were my breasts and my nipples, and it was my clit and my pussy. The rest of
the day was uneventful, and I was my usual anti-social self over the weekend.
Week 4. Rude awakening.
I dreaded the fact that this was my last week before having to return to work. Even though I was
growing used to this new life, I still had not interacted with others as a girl. I suppose it was mostly my
fault for keeping to myself in the house the whole month. Monday went by quickly, and I told myself
that I would make sure to go out and maybe walk the mall or something at some point this week.
The sunlight woke me from sleep on Tuesday morning as it did on most days. My mind slowly started
up and drifted back into functionality. There was a wet feel between my legs, similar to how I had
woke up last week. I didn’t remember having any erotic dreams, but I figured it could be a natural
response just like a guy with morning wood. As I slipped my hand down toward my nether region, a
bit of excitement grew within me. I cursed at myself mentally for liking the thought of masturbating
again.
My fingers touched upon the wetness between my legs, and just like last time, I pulled my fingers
back up to look. Instead of being greeted by that clear fluid, I saw blood covering my fingers. My eyes
widened at the sight of it, and I thought my heart was going to jump out from my chest. I rolled quickly
from the bed and ran to the bathroom to check myself. There didn’t seem to be any cuts or anything,
and I got cleaned up.
When I returned to my room, I saw that there was blood on my sheet and somehow that made me
realize one thing; I was on my period. The doctors said that I would likely start and have a cycle
sooner or later, but they didn’t know when it would start. I closed my eyes and fought hard not to cry
thinking about. Was I really going to have to go through this every month?
Not knowing what else to do, I asked my mom for help. It was highly embarrassing, but she came
and helped me. We tackled the mess on my bed first, and she taught me about pads and tampons. I
was going to have to keep track of my cycle and get used to the signs of my body so I would know
when it was that time. It was a hard conversation to have, something I never thought I would have to
hear or talk about. Her preference was tampons, and since that was what we had in the house, I went
with it. After an explanation, she gave me privacy, and I fixed the tampon in place.
The rest of the week became a long and strenuous adventure. After indulging in my first female
orgasm last week, I now had to experience the cramps associated with menstruation, and now I was
starting to understand what women had to go through all the time. Even with this happening, I still got
up the nerve to leave the house and went to visit the mall.
The mall was pretty big and built in a sort of circle so that you could walk around and end up where
you started. I didn’t plan on buying, but at least I wanted to go out in the living world as a girl and get
used to it. Before I even made it halfway through, I had guys calling out to me, trying to flirt and
asking for my number. I didn’t stop for any and only responded with headshakes and saying that I
wasn’t interested.
When the weekend and Sunday came, my period was trickling down, and I felt relieved that I
wouldn’t have to deal with it on my first day of work on Monday. I made sure that my clothes were
clean, and showered that night. Lying in bed, my mind raced about what it was going to be like at
work as a girl and dealing with customers. I’m not sure what time I finally fell asleep, but I knew that I
was going to need plenty of rest.

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