I am obsessed with that story I wrote a while back about the big macho man who takes every effeminating experience as affirming his manhood. He mistakes the extreme sexual ecstasy he feels with every new feminine challenge for an affirmation of his manhood. Even as he zealously sucks cock and takes it in the ass, even as he takes hormone replacement therapy, he thinks it only reinforces his manhood. He thinks he pushes the limits of his manhood -- which he does -- but believes that his pleasure proves his manhood. He believes with all his soul that he can handle even the most feminine assault without his manhood suffering the slightest bit of damage. He thinks that his pleasure comes from the challenge, but he is really enjoying being female, and luxuriating in his womanhood without inhibition. Therefore, he welcomes a cock in the mouth and up the ass, and welcomes new hormones, and the changes they produce in his body. By the end of it, he is a hot, sexy, beautiful girl, who happens to have a penis.
So what happens when he realizes that he has actually become a girl, and can't go back to his precious manhood? He's presented with a choice: go back to being completely male, or submit to a sex change.
He doesn't want to go back to manhood. He loves his lingerie, and stockings and miniskirts and perfume and long hair. He loves his waist, his breasts, his hips. He tries to go back to manhood, even though the full sex change intrigues him as the greatest challenge imaginable. It also strikes him -- at last -- as a contradiction. He understands that having a pussy would certainly not prove his manhood at all. He realizes that all those times that he made himself ultra-feminine, and how he loved every instant of it, actually were turning him into a woman, in spite of his tremendous confidence in his manhood. He has finally cracked. His epiphany has finally come.
His pathetic attempts at re-establishing his manhood invariably end with him capitulating to his now extreme womanhood. He needs to wear a brassiere to hold up his breasts, so he might as well match his panties. He misses his silk nightgowns. He longs for the firm and gentle arms of a man. He craves the taste of semen in his mouth.
Eventually, he crawls back and begs for a sex change, but they won't allow it, because he has chosen. He must live as a transgendered man and pay for the change himself. So he does, fully admitting that he has become a woman, and loves it.
Secretly living in my wife's closet: the musings of a closet transvestite. Adult content.
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