A legacy enables Johnny to have the surgery which will ultimately enhance his cross dressing and change his life.
Fiction by Johnny Cumlately
The four of us had known each other since school days - Fred, Dave, Bill and myself. We were now in our late fifties but had always kept in touch and met up once a year for a meal out. Not a long boozy evening, but a good meal with a couple of glasses of wine - little enough to make sure we were safe to drive home. We all had had modestly successful careers but it was Fred who had struck it rich. He had started his own business years ago and it had grown into a large profitable organisation. Bill and Dave were happily married but I was a confirmed bachelor.
The conversation on these occasions usually progressed from catching up on what we had been doing, to politics and moaning about the government, to philosophy and whatever other topic seemed to emerge. On one occasion, Fred came out with a conversation stopper. "If money were absolutely no object and leaving aside any problems with medical ethics, what sort of surgery would you have to improve your life?"
It didn't take long for Bill and Dave to reply. Bill had had an injury when playing Rugby in his youth and had a cauliflower ear as a result. And Dave had always had a slight but noticeable squint. I knew exactly what I wanted but said I would need a lot of time to think!
Fortunately, the conversation moved on to other things.
I couldn't answer because my friends didn't know that I was a long term closet transvestite. Maybe a lot of transvestites would like their bodies to match the clothes they like to wear, ideally with boobs but no cock, so my real answer would have been that I would choose to have a radical penectomy.
I had quite a collection of underwear and a few other items. I would wear a tight girdle over my panties and tuck my bits out of sight. With a bra and falsies, I would look in the mirror and see a nicely feminine shape with no bulge. I sometimes wore ladies pull-on slacks without flies when I was out and about - they were not obviously feminine and I don't think anyone noticed. I hated my cock and balls and would have done anything to rid myself of them.
Six months later, I had reason to remember that conversation. Sadly, Fred had died suddenly of a heart attack and after his funeral, I had a call from a Mr Robertson who told me he was the solicitor and trustee acting for the estate. Fred had, as we would have expected, died a very rich man. His last will, which must have been written shortly after that last reunion, contained a strange bequest. It restated Fred's question and made generous provision for all three of us to have whatever surgery, cosmetic or otherwise, that we wished.
Now I had never answered his original question. Could Fred possibly have known about my very private life? Still less of my lifelong wish to be nullified? I don't think so but either way, this was a possible answer to my prayers which would never be repeated. I would have to pluck up courage to discuss it openly with the solicitor. Dare I do that, even in strictest confidence? It took me only a couple of days to decide that I would. I was then 60 and unlikely ever to want to have sex. So I phoned the solicitor back, said I had something I needed to talk to him about in confidence and we arranged an appointment for the following day.
I came straight to the point. "This may surprise, possibly shock you, but I've always wished I could lose my male genitals. I would like to spend Fred's money on having a penectomy."
Mr Robertson was clearly rather shocked. "That is a very strange request but if it is what you really want, it is my duty as trustee and executor to carry out Fred's wishes as far as may be practicable. Whether such an operation might be possible for legal or ethical reasons remains to be seen."
I was ready for that. "Not in the UK, but certainly possible in some parts of the world. I have done some research on the internet and believe that it would entail a visit to Central or South America. It may also be possible in India or some countries in the Far East. It may be stretching ethics a bit but as far as I am aware would not be illegal."
"You put me in a rather difficult situation. I would like time to consider your request and to take advice on it. I can assure you that I shall maintain strict confidentiality and not disclose your name to anyone else. In the meantime, I suggest that you continue your researches so that you will have a specific proposal next time we meet. I would also be interested to hear more of your motives. Perhaps you could come back to see me this time next week."
Well he hadn't actually said No! I went away determined to find the names and addresses of surgeons who might oblige.
My first priority was to establish contact with some of the "Nullos" whose experiences have been written up on the net. This would involve responding to their blogs or joining their discussion groups. I had already done the usual Google searches and now I had some success in making three contacts who were able to give me names of surgeons and a vague indication of possible costs. More interesting for me, however, was their more recent feelings or possible regrets. I needed to talk to them face to face and went back to Mr Robertson with a proposal in the hope that he was willing to proceed.
"Hello again. Are you still sure you want to do this?" I nodded. "Well, I can't think of a reason to refuse you. Tell me more about your reasons and motives."
I explained that it had been a fantasy ever since I was a teenager. I had always envied the girls their anatomy and found male bits dangling between our legs somehow unattractive and vulnerable. I had sometimes dressed as a girl, but did not consider myself trans-gendered. I knew I was a boy, whatever. I don't think Mr Robertson was convinced by what I said, and I still find it very difficult to put such a lifelong compulsive urge into words. He asked for my proposal.
"I need to go to the USA and Mexico to meet people who have had this operation and to meet the men who did it. I will then return to the UK and give you full details of where I will go and how much it will cost. I think we need to look at a total budget of around £40,000 of which I would like an advance of -say - £10,000 to cover all the initial travel."
Rather to my surprise, he agreed and ten days later I found myself on an American Airlines flight to Chicago.
Mike had kindly agreed to meet me off the plane and suggested that I stayed with him for a couple of nights. He had not sent me a photo of himself and I was a little surprised to see a man of about 55, six feet tall with fairly long hair and a bushy beard standing at the arrivals barrier with a card with my name of it. He was an extrovert and proved to be excellent company. He drove me to his condo somewhere off Interstate 88 in the outskirts of Chicago where I was able to relax after my long flight and it was only much later that I broached the subject of my visit. I asked him to tell be a little about himself.
"I've always been involved in bondage. Originally, it was always self bondage and there was one occasion when I frightened myself silly and wondered whether I had overdone it and would not be able to escape. This resulted in me joining a local BDSM club and there is still nothing I enjoy more than submitting to an experienced domme and being tied up and completely at her mercy.
"I still occasionally do self bondage and that is what brought me to my present state. I always make sure that I can ultimately escape. I sometimes did suspension bondage and on that occasion had put a noose around my scrotum in addition to the usual ropes. I must have miscalculated because I finished with all my weight on that extra rope. It soon became excruciatingly painful and I passed out before I could release myself. When I came round, the pain had abated somewhat but my balls were absolutely blue. I managed to free myself but it was soon clear to me that I had castrated myself and that I needed them removed. A friend from the club put me in touch with a "cutter" in downtown Chicago who said he would deal with them for an immoderate fee. In fairness, he made a good job of cutting them off, tying the cords, removing my empty scrotum and suturing the wound. But his facilities were very crude and unhygienic and I had taken a huge risk."
"So that made you a eunuch. Did you then have to take hormone pills to replace the testosterone?"
"Yes. I have ever since which is why I still look male and have a beard. But my cock gradually lost any enthusiasm for getting erect and became a completely useless appendage which I wanted to get rid of. Once again, the friend at the club was able to help. He had heard of a Dr K in Mexico who would do the amputation. Such surgery would be unethical and possibly illegal here in the US and probably also in the UK. I managed to find more information on the internet and finally spoke to Dr K on the phone. He described his facilities and named a fee and in two weeks the deed was done. The operation is fairly standard. Your penis is split so that the urethra can be retained while the rest of the penis is cutaway. The urethra is then re-routed to a new pee hole created just ahead of your anus. You should be able to retain bladder control but of course you have to sit like a girl."
"Tell me more about Dr K."
"He was a urologist here in The States with a growing reputation but got into trouble with a couple of female patients, finished up in prison and got struck off the medical register. When he was released, he fled to Mexico but soon established a clinic doing mostly legal work for a local hospital. If you go to see him, you will find his whole set-up highly professional. But he's not cheap."
"Fortunately, cost is not a consideration. I want the best available." I told Mike briefly about the provisions of Fred's will.
"I expect you would like to see the result." He stood up and dropped his jeans. He was wearing a pair of girl's brief panties. There was no unsightly bulge. What I saw could have come straight out of a lingerie catalogue and was the opposite of his otherwise male looks. He eased them off to reveal just a small triangle of pubic hair which almost covered the operation scar. He opened his legs to show me the neat pee hole. I was really turned on by what I saw.
He did not fail to notice my erection and reached over to unzip my flies and put his hand inside. I came almost immediately. "Thank you. I guess I needed that."
"Sorry if I was a little presumptuous. I'm not gay but I really needed to remember what it is like to handle a real cock."
Next morning, he sent an e-mail to Dr K. "I have a friend from the UK staying with me who wants the same services that you gave me. He is due to fly on to LA tomorrow but could visit you in Mexico in a few days. Can you give him a phone number to reach you, please? His name is Johnny."
Mike spent the day showing me around Chicago and by the time we got back to his condo, there was a reply. "Shall look forward to meeting Johnny. I'm sure I can make him happy! Please tell him to call me on my private line ..............................."
Next day I flew on to LA, booked in to an airport hotel and rented a car. Then I called Peter who I had also corresponded with by e-mail. He gave me directions to his apartment in Long Beach which turned out to be in a select position overlooking the ocean with the rather sad sight (for someone from England) of the Queen Mary in the distance.
The door was opened by a lady dressed in an immaculate loose cream trouser suit. There was a simple gold chain around her neck but no other jewellery. She told me later she was 65 but I would have guessed mid-fifties.
"You must be Johnny. Please call me Penny. I've not been Peter for some time now. Come on in and I'll go and get some coffee."
I followed her into a large and beautifully furnished living room. Looking around, I saw several photos of Penny in glamorous dresses and a couple of a man who I assumed to be Peter. She soon returned with a tray of coffee and some cookies. I looked at her closely and had to admit that I would not have guessed at her true sex. Her voice was deep but not obviously male. As a part time transvestite myself, I was very envious!
"I see you are surprised. Let me tell you a little about myself. I've been cross dressing as long as I can remember but I've only dressed full time for the last two years. Originally it was more an aid to masturbation than anything else but gradually it started to take over my life. I never married and was very lucky to have inherited a small fortune twenty years ago. I have been a gentleman - or lady - of leisure ever since and lead a double life. As Peter, I had a house in Palm Springs and then bought this apartment as Penny. I have since sold the place in Palm Springs.
"I'm a transvestite, not a transsexual. I know I'm male but enjoy pretending to be female. I was always much more comfortable when dressed and I badly wanted the body to go with the clothes, so some years ago I started to take female hormones and after about six months had developed quite nice boobs." She put her hands over her breasts. "These are genuine!"
"Yes, I can see that," I said, "in fact I think they look fabulous!"
"Thank you. I always try to look my best. Anyway, the hormones also eventually stopped me getting an erection so I couldn't masturbate but by then it didn't seem to matter because I felt more Penny than Peter. And having male bits was a nuisance. They spoilt my profile so they had to go! And that's when I went to see Dr T in Venezuela."
"How did you find out about him?"
"Long story. I've got several TV friends and one of them had been to see him. And I found more information on the internet."
"And were you happy with his services?"
"Yes. Generally. I didn't think his actual operating facilities were as good as I'd expected and its a long way to go back if you need any after care. Even in Venezuela, his is a slightly shady set up, so he has very few trusted assistants and nurses. But I was fine. It all healed quickly and I'm delighted with the result. I expect you know all about the actual operation." I nodded.
"I'll give you his contact details in case you wish to follow it up. Do be discrete if you phone him."
We went on to talk about Penny's present life. She has quite a lot of female friends who accept her as one of them so she has a busy social diary.
I thanked Penny for her help and hospitality and returned to the hotel to phone my third contact in San Diego.
Rob lived in a mobile home on a park in Spring Valley in the hinterland of San Diego and I drove down to see him next morning. He was a complete contrast to both Mike and Penny. His mobile home was very basic and I noticed that his old car had seen better days. He looked rather effeminate. Did his loose coat hide some boobs? I had the impression he was something of a hermit. Nevertheless he welcomed me warmly and we sat down to chat.
He had been married for a few years but it didn't work out. She divorced him and took him for every penny he had. Their house was sold, together with nearly all his possessions but he managed to get a mundane job is a supermarket - enough to live on and build up some modest savings. However, he got very depressed and spent most of his time drinking or masturbating.
He finally managed to kick the drink but he thought the only way to kick masturbating was to cut it off. He was seriously tempted to try to do it himself but fortunately realised that he would probably bleed to death. He confided in close a friend who told him about a Dr X who lived in Playas de Rosarito in Northern Mexico, just over the border from San Diego. His friend thought he was totally crazy and never imagined that Rob would actually have the operation. Dr X worked in a hospital in Tijuana but Mexico is a relatively poor country and he needed to supplement his income. Rob drove down to see him at his home.
"Dr X - I was told to just call him Juan - lives in a large house with his wife, Maria, who is a fully qualified nurse. They have converted the basement into a tiny operating theatre and are willing to do surgery on a no questions basis. They showed me the theatre and a room where I could stay to recuperate. It was all immaculately clean and they quoted me an all-in fee with a promise that I could visit them again afterwards if there were any problems. The fee was not extortionate and I could just about afford it. And I was attracted by being within driving distance of my home which meant there would be no significant travel costs. So I went ahead without giving too much thought to consequences.
"All the arrangements went OK but they have no supporting staff. I do not know what would have happened in any emergency. However, I made a quick recovery and came home as soon as the catheter was removed. I went back for a routine check two weeks later."
"Are you happy that you had it done? No adverse after effects? Do you have good control of your bladder?"
"Fine. No problems. No masturbation either! If you like, we can call Juan and I'll take you down to see him."
"I'd like to do that." Rob managed to reach Juan on his cell phone and we were invited to see him at his home next morning. Rob offered to put me up on a camp bed for the night. He drove me in his old car as my rented one did not cover going over the border into Mexico.
Mexico may be a relatively poor country but Juan and Maria seemed to be very affluent. The old house was large and the grounds were well kept. There were two expensive cars in the drive. Juan and Maria greeted Rob like a lost friend and Rob then introduced them to me. Juan proudly showed me his operating theatre and explained exactly how he would do the operation. I found this very helpful and reassuring, even though I already knew most of the details of what has become a standard, if uncommon, procedure.
Other than the operating theatre, it appeared that patients were accommodated in one of the bedrooms. I think there were just two domestic staff who presumably did the cooking and cleaning. However, it was all clean and tidy.
I asked about fees.
"I will charge $25,000 all in, payable up front. This includes the operation and anaesthetics which are administered by Maria, accommodation, food and any necessary aftercare."
"I do have other visits to make, so I won't comment at present, but Rob has kindly offered to look after me if I do come to you."
"May I ask who else you have found who is willing to do this sort of work, because there aren't very many."
"I know of someone in Venezuela and someone in Acapulco."
"You mean Dr K? He's runs a large clinic. Good surgeon but you'll find him expensive."
I didn't tell him that expense was no object! I wondered what Mr Robertson would say.
Rob took me back to San Diego and I drove back up to the hotel in LA where I put in a call to Dr K. who agreed to see me the day after next. That gave time to take the midday flight to Acapulco, book into a hotel and have a look around the city.
The following morning I found the clinic readily enough on the peninsula overlooking the sea. It was a big house which had been considerably extended. There was a sign saying "Acapulco Urology Clinic." and in smaller letters "Dr K....." with a string of qualifications.
The receptionist asked me to wait for a few minutes and then Dr K appeared and showed me into his spacious office. We exchanged pleasantries and he asked after Mike in Chicago.
"I understand you want a similar operation. You must understand that most of my work here is done in conjunction with our local hospital but I do cater for private patients with - shall we say - special needs. Mike had already been castrated but it makes little difference as we would remove the scrotum and testicles anyway."
"I'm still intact in that respect."
"Good. I will show you round." The operating theatre was obviously well set up with modern equipment. There seemed to be plenty of staff, several of whom Dr K said were qualified nurses. He used an anaesthetist from the hospital who was happy to help with special needs. All the wards were single rooms. There seemed to be about half a dozen patients in residence. The whole building was spotlessly clean. It was all very professional.
Back in the office, Dr K came straight to the point. "As you might expect, our charges are quite high. I would expect you to stay here for about two weeks and assuming no complications, you should budget for a total of around $40,000, payable half when you confirm your booking and the balance before surgery. I will give you a detailed costing and give you details of a bank account to which payment can be made in dollars by bank transfer As you will eventually be flying back to the UK, you would be advised to stay here in Acapulco after your operation in a hotel for a further two weeks so that we can do a postoperative check that all is well. It might be embarrassing for you to have to go to A&E the minute you get home!
"I always do some preoperative tests - just a blood sample and an ECG to ensure that you are fit for surgery. If you wish, I can do those today."
I took a deep breath. Decision time! The reality that my dream was soon to come true hit me, but having come so far, I was not about to chicken out then.
I explained that the finance was coming from the estate of a dead friend and that I must check with the trustee before making a final commitment. However, Dr K said he would be happy to do the pre-op tests anyway as it would save a day before the actual operation.
After the tests, I thanked Dr K and he wished me "Au revoir."
A week later I went to see Mr Robertson. "Tell me all about how you got on and how much you've already spent and how much more you need."
I was ready with the figures and told him where I had been and who I had met. I had travelled business class and had so far spent about £6,000 on airfares, hotels etc. - well short of my original £10,000.
I gave Mr Robertson a copy of Dr K's detailed estimate and conditions. It came to $38,560 about £23,000 at the rate of exchange at that time. We agreed that I should have a contingency fund in Mexico of a further $5,000, plus the flights to Mexico and local hotel bills. He was obviously relieved that the overall figure would be within my earlier guess of £40,000.
Two weeks later I was on another American Airlines flight, this time back to Acapulco. I was not nervous of what lay ahead but naturally a little apprehensive as before any surgical operation. I was met at the airport by Dr K's attractive secretary. Actually, she was more than attractive - "Drop Dead Gorgeous" would be a more accurate description. She was driving Dr K's large Mercedes and spoke excellent English. We talked for a while in the car. She knew the purpose of my visit. "So you're another guy who doesn't want to be a complete guy any longer. We have had quite a number of similar patients. Dr K has probably done the operation about two dozen times so its become pretty much of a routine. I'm all in favour of it. I'm a lesbian and have always got on nicely without having a cock inside me. I get plenty of sex with my girl friend. Maybe most men should be done and forced to take the green pills. The world would be a much safer place." Her directness surprised me, but then the whole set up was a bit unusual. I didn't then understand the reference to green pills but that was to become clear before I finally went home.
I was shown into a small single ward where more tests were done. The operation was performed that night under a general anaesthetic. When I came to, I was in some pain but this soon abated. I felt on a high having achieved my lifelong ambition and found it frustrating to have to wait some days before I was allowed to see the results.
The nursing staff were very kind and efficient. They had obviously dealt with similar cases before. I found the food good but I don't really go for Mexican cooking.
Dr K had a long talk with me. "You made a courageous decision to come here and have the operation. Now you must make another one."
He handed me two boxes of pills. "You must take the red testosterone pills regularly if you wish to retain your male appearance and physique. Or you can take the green oestrogen pills which will accelerate the changes to make you more feminine. If you can't make up your mind and take neither, you will become more feminine anyway, but it will take longer. If you take the green ones, you will soon find you cannot change your mind without more surgery. Many of our patients are cross dressers and choose the green pills."
He looked at me closely. "I guess you will choose the green ones. I wish you well." How did he know? I had been hugely impressed with Penny's convincing appearance and had been cross dressing myself long enough to know that that was what I really wanted. I guessed that Mike and taken the red pills, Penny the green ones and Rob had either dithered or been unable to afford ongoing medication.
There were no complications and it all healed quickly. The catheter was removed after about 10 days. Peeing was strange and painful at first. Sitting down soon becomes instinctive! Longer term, I have had no trouble with bladder control and just a neat triangle of pubic hair where once there had been ugly male bits. I am very proud of that! And bring able to wear panties without tucking is a delight. I remembered how envious I had been seeing Mike in his.
A month after the operation I was back home with the box of green pills. I knew that in a few months time I would have to "come out" full time when I could no longer hide a more female appearance. I started to add to my modest wardrobe and to dress whenever I could, mostly in the privacy of my home. But I joined a TV club where I received huge help and advice from other members. Most were TVs like myself but some were pre-op transsexuals. They were fascinated and perhaps a little envious when I told them about my operation. I learned a lot about all things female - fashion sense, make up, hair styles, deportment and how to enjoy chit chat with other girls. I also spent several weekends at TV friendly hotels and guest houses and went out anywhere I was unlikely to be recognised. My local social activities took a back seat.
About eight months after the op my new boobs had grown to a full B cup and I decided that I must take the plunge and go full time female. It was then mid February and it was leap year. What more suitable date than 29th February? But I would only be able to celebrate the event every four years! Accordingly, I sent the following to my friends:
ANNOUNCEMENT AND INVITATION.
Johnny wishes to announce that she would like to be known as Jean in future. Some of you may have wondered about her since her visit to Mexico. This is the result!
Jean will be "at home" to her guests on Saturday, 29th February from 8.00 p.m. when she will permanently adopt her female persona.
RSVP to Ms Jean Cumlately.
................ ............... ..............
I was not surprised to receive almost 100% acceptance!
The afternoon before the party, I went to have my hair restyled. I had let it gorw longer and it had been a sort of unisex for some time. At last, it was feminine. And the make up artist at the salon made a super job on my face. Looking in the mirror I saw an attractively mature lady who I realised was me!
I bought a new outfit for the occasion. I didn't want to be OTT but did want to display my modest assets. I wore a plain black long skirt with black sheer tights and strappy shoes with 2 inch heels (I am already quite tall and 2 inches are comfortable). And I had bought a lovely see-through black frilly chiffon blouse with a low cut bra so that my cleavage was discretely visible. Falsies are never as good as the real thing. Accessories were just a simple gold necklace and tear drop matching earrings, also a ruby ring which had once belonged to my mother. She would never have imagined that I would wear it myself.
The evening was a great success. I was surprised that the girls all seemed to accept me as one of them and complimented me on my appearance. It was the guys who obviously found it difficult not to think of me as Johnny in drag.
I had never told Dave and Bill what I had spent my legacy on. They and all my other guests no doubt guessed that I had had a sex change operation. But they would be wrong. I'm just a guy without a cock who loves to pretend to be female!
Author's note: What would I say if I were offered an all expenses paid trip to Mexico? Yes, please! Red or Green? I don't know. Sadly, all the characters and clinics in this story are entirely fictitious.
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