God, I can't believe I'm doing this!!! I'm actually shaking. This feels SO much more amazing than I thought. When I saw those beautiful lavender diaries displayed in the stationery store two weeks ago... Getting the nerve up to buy one after school... Now I'm writing in the most girlish way possible. I so hope nobody ever finds this!
I am... Stephanie. Sure, I am still a boy, but in my heart I know I'm totally a girl. It feels so good to write that with my own hand, not just typing it out and backspacing it on a computer screen. My heart is beating so fast as I look at those words... It's only 4:30 now, so I have plenty of time tonight for my first diary entry. God, look at my handwriting! I never knew it could flow like this!!!
I had a nice day. Carrying my transsexuality around for another day in school. Yes, being completely feminine inside amid all the other inmates of Kennedy High. I will be SO glad to get out of there after next year! I wonder if even one person there would accept me if they new my secret. What if I came out? Somehow I think the other girls would tear me apart even worse than the guys. I'm long past asking "Why Me?" about who I am, but still... I'm not the first TS girl in this world. Full acceptance is unlikely, but it would be heaven just to be myself 24/7 without fear.
Okay. Maybe I would just be happier if I could just dress the way I like. To move around gracefully instead of pretending like I'm another ape or something. To talk, and gesture, and connect with others honestly without being called faggot or queer. To just grow up without this thing dominating my whole life.
It was so nice to have the windows open in English class today. Spring is really here, and the Robins are back. The half moon was so beautiful this morning. Writing in
Stephanie'smy diary is really relaxing. So relaxing I have no more to say tonight. Bye!
I am so serious. Something totally happened today that, like, was amazing! For a fraction of a second, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this gorgeous fashion model walking next to me on the way to school. I turned to see her, but I was all alone again. She was really tall, with shiny ink-black hair that matched her large sunglasses. She was wearing this stunning reddish brown leather outfit, and had the long neck and perfect face even other models dream of. Her image is permanently in my mind, even after that instant of seeing her.
I don't know if it was just my mind playing tricks or something else. Guardian angel? A helpful spirit? I know there's more to life than just this little world, so I hope she was real.
Another beautiful day of nature's growing leaves, fresh breezes, and birdsongs. Another day of humanity's crudeness and intolerance. I am SO sick of Jeremy. He hangs around the senior jocks and thinks saying "Thay there, Thteven!" when I walk by is so fucking funny. Fuck him. It's so sick thinking I just put that jackass' name in my new diary. Thanks for ruining another day in my life, Jerkoffme.
Sunday morning. Church was so boring! How unusual, right? During the sermon I was thinking about the vision I saw on the 18th. She looked like one of the heroes visiting the Matrix! She moved with such power and purpose. Of course, that makes it more likely I was just seeing things from my imagination and it wasn't real. :-(
Really looking forward to another week of school! Such a supportive learning environment! I wonder how many ODs and knife fights we'll have? I can't wait to sit at my vandalized desk and hear Mr. Warner drone on about Queen Victoria while he looks at the floor! God, Kennedy is such a joke.
I noticed something different about my body last night. I'm still thin as ever, but my breasts are putting on weight. I like it and all (alot!), but what if they really, you know, grew? Just seeing that slight extra curve they had was a turn-on. It's probably normal for a guy to have some breast growth. I hope.
Okay, this is getting serious. Oh my God. I was running in third period gym, doing laps around the basketball court, and I felt my breasts bouncing with every step. I mean, I was LOVING having MY breasts, but still, anyone in my situation would have mixed feelings as a boy in this society! It felt SO amazing. Natural and good. Still, they're not any bigger than before, but I haven't exactly measured them. When I touch them, they're soft and warm, not muscular. Maybe I'm just more sensitive to these things, but natural as it is, I still feel totally weird about it.
Maybe my own natural hormones are really taking me in a feminine direction. I wish!
Another Saturday night alone. Boo-hoo-hoo! :-) My parents and older brother are out for the evening, so I am here, in makeup, in my lingerie and nightgown, relaxing like I do whenever these chances come.
I have been feeling great recently. I mean, there is this peaceful, fuzzy light in my mind that wasn't there before. Writing this diary has really helped sort things out. It is such a relief to confide the truth about me instead of keeping it all inside. I found myself running down the stairs to the fridge two or three times just to feel my "breasts" bounce the way they do. If anyone finds this diary, I will be the total joke of the world if they knew about these thoughts. But for now, Mmmmm! I like this little gift from the Universe.Love, Stephanie
Something really weird happened today. I was putting my books away in my locker and Sandra, out of the blue, stopped, leaned down, and whispered that she liked my hair. I said thanks, she smiled, and walked on. No girl has ever paid the slightest attention to me before. Obviously, guys don't go around complimenting each other. It felt so nice!!!
I've been letting my hair grow since Thanksgiving, so it is getting kind of long. Even though I haven't changed shampoos, it does feel softer and did look good today. I like to close my eyes, lift my face, and feel the ends caress my neck. I can only imagine how fucking fantastic it would be to feel it tickling the center of my back... Someday.With love, Steph
Now that Sandra noticed me, I'm totally self-conscious about my hair! I was totally careful how I styled it this morning, if precise brushing and using my hair dryer with tips from Seventeen online can be called "styling." For a guy, I'm sure I'm in the top 10% of those who truly care about how their hair looks. It is so strange to think girls actually notice guys' hair sometimes. I have to say, it feels great to know my looks can make a good impression!
I swear, when I was holding the hair dryer up this morning, my "breasts" looked HUGE! To me only, of course. But it was so nice to have my body match my true self, at least in my mind. Got to get to school.
News alert! 3:52 PM. Sandra isn't the only girl to like my hair! I must sound so shallow to keep going on about this topic, but hey, I'm just as much a teen girl as anyone else and it is my diary! She must have put the word out on the Kennedy girl network, because Bradleigh and Megan from 5th period chemistry wound up playing with my hair during study time! Sandra's friendliness was nice, but it was nothing compared to those two girls today!
It might sound stupid to say, but for a while I felt like I was really one of them. The whole thing was so natural. They were just being nice to me with no girl/guy barrier. Being touched after so many years of isolation... My God! An experience I will remember 4ever!
During those 10 minutes I was beginning to question whether I was really gay, like I thought when I was 14. Bradleigh and Megan are beautiful. If one of them, preferably Bradleigh (love that male sounding name!) showed an interest in me a few years ago, I might have wound up going in the straight male direction. To think, a whisper and ten minutes of enjoyment has turned my world around. I hope it lasts!With all the power of LOVE! -Stephanie!
I'm officially sitting with Bradleigh and Megan in chemistry now. It's a friendship. Just beginning, but they are SO totally nice to me. Today was the first time I could show my sense of humor since elementary school. Maybe they're just fag hags, but I don't care. It is just so wonderful to have friendly faces in school for a change.
I'm feeling good for another reason; My body is looking fine! Since my jeans fit better today than they ever have before, I measured my waist when I undressed tonight. I am being totally honest when I say it was 29½". I wasn't sucking in or holding the tape tight. Since I had the tape out, I measured my bustline too. I can't believe I'm writing this down! For historical purposes, it was 31" at nipple level. My hips are 31" too. I am such a girl to care about this stuff. I'm 5' 9" tall.-S
I've gone through so much in the past week and haven't thought about this diary. For the first time since junior high started, I'm actually living each day instead of enduring it like a prisoner. Now that I'm mildly "accepted", people are a little nicer than when I was a shy unknown. I'm just "school friends" with Bradleigh and Megan. Sandra smiles to me in the halls too. Now I really hope nobody reads this journal after what I'm about to say--
There's a whole internet tradition of crossdressing stories where girls transform a guy for Halloween or a joke, and the guy discovers this amazing world of feelings and experiences, starts going out in public as a woman, eventually dating and kissing other guys and having hot wild queer sex with Mr. Right. I love those stories, and would love to believe it was possible. Now consider my situation...
I could really take advantage of these girls if the circumstances arose. I feel like I'm halfway there already, since they're not shy about playful compliments. I haven't asked, but they seem confident enough to be sexually active. It's not that I want to have sex with them (until I get to know them, ha-ha), but the thought of a "girl's night" with makeup, clothes, accessories, and laughter would be the ultimate fun. It would probably start innocently enough, and I would go along pretending I had never pretended to be a girl. Then, that night, I would confess the truth. Not only about my own crossdressing, but my transsexuality. It's easy to picture hugs and support, but as I think about it, it might not be the best move to tell them. I don't know what to do. Anyway, it's nice for life to be good for a change.Stephanie Taylor (my made-up last name) :-)
I don't think this is normal. Starting in first period, my nipples got really sensitive for about 15 seconds. I had to breathe in deeply to handle it. For the rest of the day, they went up and down from fine to sensitive to actually hurting. I couldn't tell anyone, obviously. I felt better when I got home, took a shower, and put on my flannel pajamas. I almost thought I was going to faint doing laps in gym, feeling them sting under my shirt. Hopefully, a passing thing that no guy talks about!
I can't believe this, but my nipples have definitely changed. They used to be little bead-sized things, but now they are constantly erect. They're wider too. The right one is pushing forward pretty far. I can barely stand to touch them. Looking in the mirror, I also had to wonder if my lips were growing too. I've got to get some sleep.
I took a hot bath after school to ease my nipple pain. I'm more used to it now, and it doesn't bother me as much, but still I want to go back to being comfortable like before. The left nipple has caught up with the right, and they both look like women's. There's no other way to say it. They're just inflated now, and I can never wear tight t-shirts again unless I want to be the class joke. This has got to be hormonal. Having pink nipples the diameter of a bic pen is not natural. For a guy at least. My areolas look enlarged too. I've got to measure myself.
32". Oh my God. No wonder they felt more bouncy in gym. This isn't weight gain, because my waist and ass are fine. At 29 and 31½". God, it's happening. If this is all I've ever wanted, why am I crying? If this doesn't stop, my secret life is over.
I stand and see myself in the mirror. It is definitely happening. I can push my breasts together and almost make cleavage. My beard isn't growing like it used to. I think my "maleness" is slowing down, since I haven't really needed to shave more than twice a week lately. I'm more beautiful than before, if that means anything. But the change, so slight in any one place, is happening all over. My penis still works in the morning, but it shrinks in like I'm always cold or something the rest of the time. My balls aren't the same. I can tell. Oh God, how is this happening?
6:45 PM. I got through the last few days of school OK wearing baggy clothes. Thank God for homophobia in the showers, because no one has noticed my changes in the locker room. But it's only a matter of time. I think I'm at least 5% physically female now. I'm going to need an A-cup bra soon. Maybe I'll get to the 50% point this summer, and can hide the truth 'til the end of this school year.
Emotionally, I feel exactly like a girl. There's no questioning or denying that at all. The "fuzzy light" in my brain from March 27th is always there. I cry so easily now. I didn't have a problem with male clothes before, but now I positively HATE them! My voice has never been really deep, but once that changes, my hiding days are over.
My plan used to be so simple. Go to college, earn good money, go through the whole SRS deal. With full legal, psychiatric, surgical, medicinal supervision. Now it's happening on its own whether I want it to or not. People will probably think I've been taking estrogen illegally. This is a mess.Stephanie Taylor
I felt so stupid in church wearing my suit. A complete fraud. I didn't even know what to pray for. Part of me wants this to go faster, I must admit. The old fantasy of just waking up one day as a girl, and all the world treating me like I was female the whole time. If I really prayed for this to stop, that would mean staying male, which I really, really, can no longer stand. All those transsexual biographies on the internet I can totally relate to now. The strength of this feeling is growing hour by hour. And yet I still struggle to hold on. For the fucking sake of pleasing a society that hated me to begin with.
My arm hair has 95% fallen out. It happens all day in school and all night in bed. It just rubs off in the shower. My leg hair is next, I know it. If anyone cares, I'm 32, 28, 32 now. I look like a really strong ballerina naked. I don't have erections anymore. My penis is just there, tiny. It used to hang 5 inches limp when I was a boy. I used to think it was so cute this way after a cold swim, but I don't even feel like it's mine anymore. I can't believe this could be happening, but my dick could be dormant before reversing and growing back inside. To my fucking cunt if this keeps happening.
At least my nipples don't bother me.
StephSteven, for the last time.
Jeremy noticed. A shit day of Hell.
Megan was so nice to me today. There's still a "question" about my gender at school, but Megan could see I was hurting, and showed nothing but kindness. Just to be tolerated by one person is more than I could ask for. Being 8% female isn't all terrible. As we left class, she whispered "I think you're beautiful, Steve." Nothing can match the power of a friend's private whisper.
Should I? Be myself? I am Stephanie Taylor. Make that Stephanie Anne Taylor. My leg hair is falling off faster than my arm hair did. I think I'm close to passable now. If it wasn't for the history of violent murder against transgendered people in America, I would just dress and behave female. If we had a freer society, I could have started years ago without punishment.
I just looked back and noticed it has been one month since I wrote about my breasts the first time. It was such a fun, welcome thing then. Secret. Open to interpretation. Now every time I breathe I feel them rise and fall. I wonder how big they will be? I've never wanted giant breasts, but a good, proportionate B cup would be nice. God, what if I become a jiggling goddess ready for men to worship me at the beach? Not such a bad thought. Maybe this isn't all so bad. Maybe I'm too tired to struggle against it anymore.Stephanie Anne Taylor, with developing tits :-)
You won't read the following sentence in any other diary; One of the advantages of a teeny tiny penis is how nicely it "packs" in a bikini, especially when the standard male thigh and pubic hair has dropped away leaving nothing behind but creamy smooth, soft, sensually curved skin. I look fantastically fucking wonderful in a swimsuit. I used to have to imagine myself at my female destination before, but now I am there. I'm thin, yes, but no one would ever think I wasn't a girl. I'm so glad I didn't cut my hair after Christmas vacation, even though, now that I smile in the mirror, short hair could be cute. Someday! My God, my smile is dazzling now.
I really want to come out. At home, at school, at CHURCH, in life. The sudden shock has worn off, and I know I'm ready to live truthfully. I never thought about it this way before, but it could turn out to be simple. If I just dress like I want, call myself Stephanie, and defend my identity, my part is done, and it all becomes the world's problem. Say they try to force me back into maleness. All I have to do is resist. Simple.
But it would take all the bravery and courage I can summon that first day. People might still think I'm acting or truly crazy to make such a move. Let it be their problem. I've got to live my life. Starting now.Love, Ms. Stephanie Anne Taylor
What a day (understatement of all time!). I went down to breakfast in my little white dress, tan sandals, gold bracelet, and subtle makeup. "I'm female now," I said to Mom and Dad. It was such a relief when they told me they kind of new this day was coming. They know to call me Stephanie from now on. Thank you, Mom and Dad! I love you!
It took time for people to recognize me in class, since I was such a withdrawn zero of weak male nothingness to them before. Jerkoffme was SILENT! My beauty radiated enough peace, power, and honesty to grant me full protection from evil. I have never smiled more broadly when I told Coach Rogers I was skipping gym class from now on. I felt like a fashion model as I walked through the halls. Intuitively I knew I would be the center of attention for one day, so I made the most of it.
I didn't "push myself" on Bradleigh and Megan. But they welcomed me enthusiastically into their lives the moment they saw me walk to my desk. The look on their faces was priceless when they took in my appearance and realized it was me. During the hug, they realized I was real, not just a shaved guy pretending to be female. My voice felt so good to talk in its natural range! May 7th is my true birthday!Neverending cosmic love, Ms. Stephanie Anne Taylor, woman.
Not to be superficial, but 32½, 27½, 32. :-) It's amazing how easy it is to push in my penis and scrotum. I'm definitely rushing full speed into feminine life, and those male organs are smaller and smaller each day. Even the skin is tightening and "absorbing" up inside me.
I should be enjoying this "secret." Everyone else must think I'm just dressing and acting like a girl, not shifting so profoundly. I mean, could it really happen? Me, with a cunt? That line looks so hilariously stupid on the page!!! But if... If this is really moving like I think it is, I could truly become 100% female with no chemicals, no surgery, no counseling. I want that.
The vision of March 18th could have been the new beginning I've always wanted. Whoever She was, I thank Her. Clearly, a force for all that is good and right.-Stephanie :-)(I can't believe how cute my handwriting has become!)
Well, I am one week old. The changes keep accelerating. 33, 27, 34! It feels so good to move around the world freely, female, in female clothes. The warm Spring air flutters around my legs as the lightweight fabric of my dress flows and caresses my body with every stride through living space. I love life!
I think this is the last day I will see my "penis." The foreskin just barely peeps out ¼" from my soft mound. There is a faint tan line where my scrotum used to be. I can still pee, but it's a little messy now. What the hell, I've told everything else in this diary; I've sat down to pee since I was 11! It feels better and is a lot cleaner than spraying and splashing it everywhere!
Farewell, little penis, good friend. Farewell with Love.Lovingly with love, Ms. Stephanie Anne Taylor
34, 26½, 34½. If this process stopped now, I would be happy. My body is perfect. But my face has really transformed well. I swear my jaw is smaller. Everything happened so gradually, but I look nothing like old Steven pictures now. My eyes are bigger, my eyebrows are higher and arched, my brow ridge has grown delicate. Good God, I'm really beautiful! I know it's vain to say that, but it's just the truth. However this is happening, I have become gracefully feminine. Maybe that Matrix woman flipped a genetic switch in me, or I was born to live in both genders. I really don't want to know, since I feel so good, and know this can't be hurting me. Sigh. I feel light and wonderful at 24% feminine.
Sandra, Bradleigh, and Megan took me out for dinner and the mall last night. Time of my life, it goes without saying. I told them what has been happening with my body, but they didn't believe it at first. Maybe they thought I just wanted an excuse to get naked with them. After Sandra walked into my dressing room by mistake, she believed me. From wimpy male to blossoming female in two months with no padding falling out of my top or implant surgery scars, she believed me. She was stunned to change her perception of me as a young female impersonator to another real girl. Growing up fast.
They all had to "see," of course. It felt weird, but I knew it would settle things. You can't fake a 26½" waist. I was one of them. Knowing what they were thinking when their eyes drifted down to my bulgeless white panties, I tilted my head and said, "yes, that's gone too." My totally confident girl smile put them at ease.
Spending hour after hour, moment after moment with my new friends felt so normal. I was too nervous to join in, but watching Bradleigh flirt with waiters, male cashiers, and guys at the mall was totally impressive. She had total control over them! The attention I received from some of the guys was bliss! I was so glad my first pass was from a handsome, well-dressed guy in his 20s instead of an average loser. For so many years, being female was my main goal, and I had never realized how unprepared I was for relationships with men until tonight. Well, I will make the time to prepare, no doubt!Love, Steph
Nothing much to report. Apart from my vagina beginning to crease in. ;-)
Dear Diary; I suppose I should say how school is going. I love it! NONE of my dreaded fears came true. Guys leave me alone. The instinct to protect females outweighs their need to look like jerks. I'm sure people here and there are having a hard time understanding what I've done, but I don't care. Their problem, not mine. Every little thing I do is female now. Raising my hand in class. Opening doors. The way I turn to look out the window. Brushing my fingers through my hair. I dress down for school like the other girls, since I don't think it's nice to flaunt myself like every day is a beauty contest. I like understated styles anyway.
Speaking of hair, the more female I become, the nicer it gets. I'm 35% of the way now, and I swear my hair is growing faster. Maybe it was getting fuller over the winter and I didn't notice until Sandra's compliment. I should really get it styled. Tomorrow morning.
$30 and a $5 tip later, I am STYLED and sophisticated!!! I love this look so much! My stylist Dierdre kept complimenting me on how well kept my hair was. She even had two of her friends check it out. I'm not saying I'm model-beautiful, but James (the salon owner) sighed and said I should definitely get some pictures done for an agency he knows. I smiled, closed my eyes, tilted my head side to side and said I'd think about it. I was blasting the fucking ROOM with cuteness! I could be dangerous if I wanted. A great day to be a girl!
I went to Church as a girl. I had never felt more right about who I am. I was already the subject of town gossip, and people left me alone. But God loved me. He blessed me with this life, this beauty, this depth of emotional richness every moment. I am saved, redeemed, purified with sacred Love.
Naked in my room later :-) (some transition huh?), I took a deep breath as I stood before my door mirror. I really could be a model. I was tall, lean, and had just the right androgynous power many models have. I have no illusions about the "glamorous" drug and starvation filled world of modeling, but it could mean some easy money. Tomorrow I am going to that agency for a photo session. I think I'll just show up with no appointment and see what happens. If James' reaction was any guide, my looks could have the power to advance me to the front of the line. God, what a bitch I'd be if I really believed that!
What should I do with my $400? Oh my God! Frank (my first photographer!) walked through the waiting room and immediately put me to work for next week's teen fashion ad in the Sunday paper. He kept telling me I was a natural. I smiled, posed, wore about a dozen outfits, and saw the world of small-time modeling. $400! If this works out like I think, I could easily afford all the high-end clothes and accessories I could ever want, not to mention living on my own. Frank said he'd need me all summer, and hoped I wouldn't jump ship once the world saw the new model in town. Could be B.S., but if the money's real, I'm there.
Frank must have shown my pictures around, because my phone keeps ringing. I told them all I'm new and want to take it slow at first. It feels kind of good, but kind of like being surrounded by sharks too. It is so easy to tell when someone is lying to you over the phone. Insincerity SCREAMS through a sleazy voice. I could be such a world-class megabitch if I took this business seriously. Honest money yes, exploitation no.
I think my feminization is nearly complete. My measurements are 34½, 26, 34½. Verrry fine light pubic hairs have begun to grow above my groove. Peeing is easier and more natural now. I'm going to miss this transitional state, since it is so simple. I can only assume all kinds of tubes, canals, and ovaries are forming inside me. Someday I'm going to have to buy tampons, hurray. I would be happy to freeze the process here, since It's so nice to be on sexual vacation after all those boy years.Ms. Stephanie Taylor, intermediate female being :-)
Last day of school! EVERYone wanted me to sign their yearbook. It was really nice. I think Chuck was making money taking pictures of me with students since he went through three data cards with his Olympus digital. All I wanted was to be left alone and maybe have a little acceptance. Apparently I'm a curiosity now. I hope the newspapers and tabloids don't think I'm a story. If they do, I'll just hold out for a classy, trustworthy primetime newsmagazine. My three friends are the only ones who really know what I am, what I've become. My parents aren't forcing me to talk about it, and respect my privacy.
It felt so nice to gracefully float in my bubble bath tonight. My dwindling figure and new thin layer of feminine softness has made me more buoyant. My smooth skin felt so silky as I emerged from the steaming water and let the bubbly lather slide down. I felt like a goddess, and had to sink back in and let the bubbles flow down my glistening form again and again. The male in me was getting off on my exquisite reflection. I squeezed the natural sponge over my chest and saw my pointed, dripping breasts shed the warm rinsing water. It was faint, but noticeable. My first deep clit erection. A new erotic dawn. Ahhhh. Yes.
After several long days of fun, easy work, I have more money than I know what to do with. Part of me wants to fly first class, drink champagne (even though I don't even know what it tastes like!), and ride in limos to high class parties. But another part of me says that's wasteful, and I should help an animal shelter or a hospitalized child. I think that would be nicer than living selfishly. $800 a day though. They all assume I'm fully female, even though, physically, I'm only 45% complete. God, I love this figure! And clothes shopping is so much fun!
I know this shouldn't go to my head. But an offer for modeling work in Milan? I think my answer is a yes. I don't need the money at all, but the chance to see Italy and get paid for it is a no-brainer! I think I'll take my friends with me so we can have a summer adventure. This money came so easy, so it'll be my way of repaying their kindness. And enjoying their guidance and protection. It shouldn't be hard saying no to Italian men, but I have a feeling they will be persistent. Dear Diary, you're coming with me across the sea!
Milano. God, I totally love it here! I had heard Italy is the most fashion-conscious place on earth and it's true. The shops, the food, the sun, the friendly faces! I can't even imagine how far my image will go once my assignments are complete. The clothes are divine here. I look at my proofs and am stunned. Am I really that woman? The level of cosmetic professionalism they create with me is astounding. I sent home five black and whites of my face and shoulders, since my true self was captured. Eyes closed, in peaceful sunlit joy.
I was just about to write about my cunt, but decided not to. It folds in about an inch and a half. There. Big deal, right? But I find my clit is growing more and more responsive. Just squeezing my legs together feels great, and I keep doing it at cafes and in my hotel bed. Sandra was surprised at some of my comments about the men we saw on our tour yesterday. Yes, I'm heterosexual! Really!
I knew "the offer" would happen eventually. I turned it down. No, I don't want to be posing nude while I'm still in high school, thank you goodbye. I'm glad Celia told me to inspect for peepholes when changing clothes on location. This body is mine, not some voyeur's.
Friday night dancing... Oh what fun. Of course, cursed with these looks, I was admitted right away. It was the first time male hands touched my female body. So different from my brief, disastrous gay period. I had to smile at the interplay of glances, since I knew exactly what was on the guys' minds. But I just wanted to dance, you know? God, the certain knowledge that hot men want to fuck me... Hot and frightening at the same time.
My last night in Milano. We have all had such a blast here! And I'm walking out with more money than I started with! :-) I had a real nice encounter with a good man today while shopping. Instead of eyeing me like a tiger moving in, he just said "Hello" with the most cute, helpless smile. He was just idly enjoying my beauty, not trying to consume it. I smiled back, happy to find a civilized gentleman at last in this sea of carnality. He looked to be about 22, and didn't even begin to force his presence on me. Of course, this was the ultimate hook!
Deciding to test him, I asked him where the best place for cool drinks was. He offered to show me, and we strolled for about ten minutes to a small cafe. I loved being the focus of his gracious manners. We talked while our drinks were prepared. When I was about to sip my drink, I casually announced I was only 17. He suddenly swallowed and his eyes bugged out!
"My lady," he said in his soft Italian English, "you have got to be more careful meeting men in a city like Milano."
"Don't worry Marco, I'm only here for the dancing."
With that, he smiled, knowing I was a moral person with a sense of humor. I didn't give him my last name, but I'm sure he'd find out when the fashion campaign hit in a few weeks. It was lovely to meet such a kind soul so far from home.
If you had told me last March I would be turning down thousands of dollars because I was too tired from a first-class trip to Italy, I would think you were crazy. But here I am, rested and relaxed after my first venture outside America. It felt good to anonymously donate $500 to each animal shelter in the phone book yesterday. This beauty was a gift, and I must pass its value on to fellow creatures in need.
I am slooowly becoming more sexual. I can feel my belly, my womb... changing. It's taking alot of energy, and my appetite is huge.
Thoughts turn more and more to sex. Are these the last male vestiges crying for attention and release now that I'm 60% of the way on my female journey? It is so strange to be so nubile, petite, and desirable and yet not want to go wild with myself 24 hours a day. I was using the handheld shower this morning, and gently washed my ass and vagina. It really felt different this time. I think my clit is nearing exposure. I felt my entire pelvic region tingle after a few seconds of spraying the top of my slit. It was only about 15% of a standard male orgasm, but it lasted and took ten seconds to die down when I moved the faucet away. Beautiful pleasure.
35" bust, 26" waist, 34½" hips. I'm beautiful. Sensing I had to, I measured and found out I've shrunk to 5'6" tall. I really like being smaller. Feels so tight.
Gave $5,000 to the FDNY memorial fund. God bless America.
Senior year is going well. Everyone is over the "shock." I really prefer school to modeling, since people my own age aren't trying to rule me! The gossip network knows I'm not a penis-wielding male anymore, so things are calm. Having normal days is strange.
This morning I woke up "hard." My clit was throbbing! It brought back memories of my painful nipple growth last April. It was like the stinging ache in my cock after my first orgasmic boy ejaculation, only more sensitive. I would never even THINK of touching it! I have labia now, by the way. They formed so subtly over the past few weeks, I didn't notice how different my vulva looked until I checked down there with a pink hand mirror today. My soft, short pubic hair is really nice! I still have a huge appetite, and it's all going to this force of nature, my reproductive system. And I thought I was a woman before.
I look exactly like a woman now. My cunt is finished on the outside. I have to be careful when I walk so I don't trigger any pain or gasps of joy from my new clit. I'm really having second thoughts about sex if I'm going to be this sensitive to the slightest touch. I no longer care what percent female I am. I'm here. I think my face has stabilized too.
Ohhhhhh... I had the house to myself tonight, if you know what I mean. Thanks to a rechargeable Pollenex massager, I had an ORGASM. And another. Oh God, I had to stop after five! If I had known how much more beautiful, full, and intense female orgasms were, I would have demanded a sex-change at 13! My new favorite thing! Tiring though, but good tired. Mmmm.The Blessed Ms. Stephanie Anne Taylor
You might say I'm in heat. I am. I love the fantasy of being fucked and pumped hard by a strong, young MAN. To hug his hard muscular body to mine. To scream and moan with slippery tight sexual ecstasy, uniting body and soul with the power of his hot masculine love. To get pregnant with his jetting white come invading my small, tanned, strong yet vulnerable body. To yield to our overpowering passion and dissolve into the white light of fucked-out fucked-in fucking fuck me forever bliss. Yeah, you might say I'm in heat. :-)Stephanie the cat
I'm not shy about checking out the guys in school now. Everyone knows I'm for real, and having an international modeling portfolio hasn't hurt my status. I know I'm playing with fire even hinting I'm interested. I don't want to be a tease, but the way I look at it, how can anyone blame me for looking at guys? It's fun!
Sunday morning after the party. Nothing much happened apart from almost being RAPED! Since it was Brian's house, I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to try anything like what he did. I don't think I'll be going to any more High School parties if this is what they're like. Some guy can seem nice and safe and then... He's holding me down on the bed, getting his belt off. Since I wasn't drunk, I scratched him in the face with my aqua blue nails and got the hell out of there. I swear to God, whoever winds up with Brian is going to be the unluckiest girl ever. Lose my virginity to some jerk holding me down, I don't think so.
I haven't told anyone what happened, but by my behavior the school knows Brian doesn't EXIST for me. Let them figure it out. I'm sure those two scratches tell quite a story. The Modeling session didn't go well tonight. I was too angry to get into the lighthearted happy teen with new clothes mood. I left their check on the receptionist's desk when it was over.
It's cold and the robins are gone.
Every day I see this lavender diary in my lingerie drawer. I suppose I should write something. I felt so sad and angry the last few times, I wanted to avoid it. I've thought alot about what love can be. How beautiful, how noble. Apart from Marco, all I've seen is shallowness. Thinking about my life, I asked myself, do I even want kids? Can any man really fulfill my romantic needs and treat me as an equal? What would that be like?
I've concluded that every child is entitled to two loving parents. Grown-up adults who can afford to take on the responsibility of parenthood. People who are devoted to one another, not using each other out of desperation or lust. Every child needs to be born into a loving family with parents filled with energy for the work ahead. At the very minimum every child deserves this. I estimate only 5 to 10% of the babies born are this lucky in our world of poverty, alcoholism, and wife beating.
This idea, this vision of love, rules out teenage promiscuity, that's for sure. When I'm joining my husband on my wedding night, I want it to be just us, discovering joy, adult enough to communicate just what we like and need, not comparing each other with previous partners. Somewhere that man is out there, the one I'm meant to marry.
I imagine us meeting in five years, both of us working hard in our professions. It would feel right for both of us. He wouldn't rush me. He would see me, not just my appearance. We would get lost in friendly gazes. Our souls would connect. Neither of us would put on an act to impress the other. Just being ourselves, serious about finding someone for a lifetime love. That serious.
Oh, my man would be strong, and good, and kind. He'd stand for something, and treat me and others with respect. My man would softly kiss me under the falling snow. I would not hesitate to say yes when he proposed... I'd probably need to be held after falling apart crying tears of joy, knowing he was the One.
We would build a fire on our honeymoon. The rising yellow flames our only light in the romantic cabin. Tall goblets of bubbly champagne. A white bearskin rug and plenty of soft pillows. My man, so strong to bring in logs from the snow! We'd embrace and kiss in the flickering light.
He would feed me chocolate covered strawberries, playfully twirling and pulling them from my softly sucking lips as I made an O and looked childishly hurt, only to smile and lean forward for a bite, under the spell of his lovingly controlling deprivation and generosity.
I would softly tell him how much I loved him. His kindness, his caring, his manly strength. I would caress his curling dark hair and gently kiss his rugged face. I would want him naked, mine to love.
Yielding to my guidance, he would slooowly be disrobed. His sculpted golden body so balanced and strong in the sizzling light. The sparks and steam in the fire matched by his powerful inner vitality.
Still fully clothed and jeweled, I would lean down to kiss my man's firm, relaxed body from head to toe, licking, ever so gently, his nipples, his navel, his thighs... Taking his erect manhood into my delicate lips... Tonguing his flesh, sucking, licking, kissing his cock, wrapping my lips down, down his pulsing shaft only to lick and vacuum my minty-clean mouth up again for another round of tongue play on his pre-comed head...
Knowing he was on the edge of exploding with orgasmic bliss, I slowly rise. Stand above his naked body. Unbutton my dress. Let it fall to his legs. Slooowly unhook my garters and slide down my white stockings. Pull down my lacy thong, inch by inch, setting it free, then dropping it, weighing nothing, to his massive penis. His gorgeous penis betrothed for my enjoyment exclusively.
Still wearing my bra and garter belt, I'd smile and kneel down on top of him, his towering dick inches from my soft downy pubic hair and wet, waiting lips. Oh yeah, he would be fucking me tonight. No condom. No pills. A real honest to God get-me-pregnant right now fuck. I picture us smiling at this point, knowing how naughty and pure this aspect of our lives was going to be from here to eternity.
Claiming my superior power, I would mount him. I'd feel his hot, living penis sliiiide up inside. Oh. Oh yes. I'd close my eyes to savor this first moment, saying goodbye to virginity, hello to our adult future. His hands would reach up my curving ass to gently squeeze my narrow waist.
"I love you."
I'd smile, realizing he was unhooking my garter belt. Oh my man. I'd gracefully reach my arms up to set my tanned self free from the delicate white bra. The air would feel cool on my exposed breasts, firelight dancing across my exquisite body. Off with my pearls. Off with my bracelet. All we wear are smiles and simple golden wedding rings.
It has all been worth the wait. Fully, deeply fucked, I savor his hard, loving penetration. I playfully sneer like an animal. Squeeze onto him. Oh baby, pump me. I want you innnn! I put my delicate hands on his massive shoulders and arch my back down for the ride. Thrusting, fucking, squeezing. His penis quivering, filling me completely oh... We are together. Oh my God! Slipping, riding, squeezing, our bodies rocking faster in animal passion. My man, my taker, my buck... Oh take me like a forest doe! Oh God yes.
Brighter and brighter, our bodies united in the Wave... I feel him. Jetting. Oh. Deeper. Deeper now honey... I squeeze down so hard on his ejaculating DICK, rubbing my aching clit again and again along his juicy shaft. Oh my man! You think we did good? Oh. Oh God I love you. MmmmmMMMMy loving angel of power! Oh God yes, you and me, whew, yes... forever.
Yeah, I would be interested in marrying a man like that. :-)Stephanie, feeling MUCH better.
I had no idea that was all in me. From a decent vision of love to a passionate erotic fantasy. I love love! To continue the fantasy (which gave me seven orgasms late last night!);
Oh how we would fuck each other blind in that honeymoon cabin. No question, he could have me anally and I would call myself his "true wife" afterward! I would hold him so tight each night in our wedding bed, striving to give him every ounce of my overflowing passion. My kind, beautiful, gentle, hard-fucking Man!
Magically, we would conceive a new life. A new human being, born from the blazing fires of our raging love. In a dream of life, our love would carry us through the next nine months. So slowly, I would feel our baby growing inside my warm, loving, safe womb. Mmmm, my man would be so gentle with me, so protective of us, two souls in one transsexual body. My belly would rise, so cute at first. Oh, I am really pregnant! Day by day, showing more and more, my petite, athletic body transforming into the Life Machine. The wonder of fertility! The blessing of creation!
My breasts, swelling, getting sore once again. Dripping warm, sweet milk from my engorged nipples as I sat naked, calmly meditating on this new child, soon to be born.
Savoring pregnancy, knowing it would end yet feeling it was eternal, I'd love my faithful husband's tender caresses of my belly, our child's refuge. I would love this child! Welcome this child to life beneath a million stars! Defend this child from the evils of the world and the corruption of men!
Laboring, pushing, stretching impossibly, sweating and breathing to give painful birth to this new human life! My body transitioning from pregnancy to delivery. Oh, let the pain stop! Contractions. Oh. Pushing down. I feel the infant turn. Gotta get through the crowning. Oh! Blood. Shoulders! One last easy push and yes and I'm empty. Our child, conceived a lifetime ago when we knew nothing! Oh my sweet baby. Here, yes. All healthy. That was a big event, wasn't it? Yes. To my husband; I love you.Your future bride, Stephanie Taylor