My Evolving Transition – Ch. 08

The Parade:

No longer was I depressed, I was back to fantasizing about BX9 and started thinking about going to the upcoming LGBTQ Festival. Oh, I still hated Tiffany. With all the dramas going on, I had forgotten about Zayne.

I rang Dr. Helena and told her I wanted to go through with the transition therapy and treatment.

It has been over a month since I was set upon by the BX9 and had seen Zayne. I had only just started my therapy group, under the supervision of a clinic Dr. Helena approved.

There were a few things I noticed in the short time after I started the proper treatment of a cocktail of injections and pills. I felt more emotional, and my cock wouldn’t stay hard for long. Other than those side effects, everything was the same.

*

Everything was starting to run smoothly until I started feeling a bit of guilt creep in.

Zayne had been there for me when I was at my darkest, and I was shutting him out. The BX9, and Tiffany, had done a number on my sanity.

I was in a better place now, but now and then I’d have one of those days where, guilt, anxiety, and shame, would haunt me for a day or so.

*

Thanks to Tiffany’s dodgy pills, my body had morphed into something different. I was barely 5ft. 6 in. (169cm), but it wasn’t my height that’s changed. It’s my muscle tone, weight, and physique, that has.

In just over a year, I had gone from 188 pounds to just below 140 pounds.

It started with Tiffany’s dodgy pills, then my long walks to Zayne’s place, accompanied by the extracurricular workouts there, then the odd weekly gym workouts, and the stress and confusion of my mental state. It all helped stop my body from being flabby.

*

Ever since the park episode, starting therapy, and my seclusion, I’ve desired to be a woman even more.

Another month had passed since being gang fucked by the thugs. I would catch the bus, to the mall for supplies, to the clinic, and everywhere I went, but never through the park or to Zayne’s.

My doctor had put me on a program because I wasn’t working and was in transition. She told me I would receive a $500 voucher each month, for use on Botox and other cosmetic products.

*

It was now the day of the LGBQT Festival, and it was a warm morning, but the temperature was slowly rising. I was to meet with a few friends from my therapy group, for brunch near the event.

I had dyed my straight shoulder-length hair purple and black a few nights ago.

Today when I got ready, I wore a red vinyl skirt, no knickers (they suggested that), fishnet stockings, black Doc Martin platform boots, a Raptors basketball top, black lipstick, and eyeshadow.

So, I locked my loft up and then went and caught the bus. From there, I strolled like on a catwalk to our meeting spot. It was at a café bar within a stone’s throw of where the festivities were.

*

Inside, I waited and waited, and after an hour, I gave up. I’d been stood up and went to pee in the lady’s bathroom, before leaving.

Then after peeing, I began to prepare to either go to the Parade or go home. So, I began to tuck my balls inside my groin and then taped them inside, with hypoallergenic sports tape. After that, I wrapped my cock up with my empty ball sacks and taped them around my cock. This was my first attempt at trying this, which I heard in therapy, in the tearoom. So, I gave it a try, maybe I should have listened better, they never mentioned if it worked going commando.

After that, I pulled my skirt down and checked my make-up, I then ordered a shot of tequila, followed by another. Then I sat back down at my table for 5 more minutes.

Then after I saw that no one I knew was there, I decided to leave the café bar. With all the restrictions around my cock and balls, it now felt like I was wearing a cock cage or knickers. My cock felt numb.

So, I stood up and gave the café one final look. I saw that no one hadn’t shown up, I felt let down, disappointed, and a little annoyed.

*

My mind wasn’t thinking too clearly, as I threw a little hissy-fit and stormed out of the café. In doing so, I almost collided with a group of people just outside, as I stormed out. They were frolicking around like fairies and dressed like they were heading to the festival.

I apologized, and then they introduced themselves to me and invited me to tag along with them. One of them I barely recognized from the clinic. It was one of the sisters of someone from my therapy group, she was with her lesbian partner. She told me hadn’t seen her brother for days.

So, here we were a merry bunch, with two lesbians, a gay guy, and his cross-dressing boyfriend, plus me.