Sonya had freed my dick and started softly sucking on it. It felt good, but it didn't feel like before anymore. Before, my dick was the center of my pleasure, aroused by any sexy interaction. But, my center had moved, I could cum anytime she'd take my ass. And the pleasure I was feeling now was simply a bonus. Like the clits I sucked on with Zara and Amy.
I moved around a bit until I was sucking Sonya's dick as well, and as we pleasured one another I enjoyed the power I had over her as much as the power she held over me. We came together, once more, and I drank her junk eagerly, as she sucked me completely dry as well. More bonus, the joy of being with a transgender woman, the joy of being one yourself.
It was so simple how I came to that conclusion. I was as much transgender as Sonya was, I just never realized it until I met her. But the symptoms had been there, right in my face. My small size, small feet, hardly any body hair, my voice that never really dropped. Even the fact that I was a virgin until a transgender woman came around.
Before we fell asleep, both very comfortable with one another, she promised she would help me. Hooking up with a doctor was the first step to take. Or should I say the “next” step to take, given where I was already?
The next few days I spent every night at Sonya's. She'd given me access to her apartment so I could get in even if she wasn't there. I just had to become Diana, and wig, breasts and heels were the first things I put on, before I practiced my makeup and went through her clothes trying on a lot of different things.
I learned that although I believed that sexy black with dramatic makeup was my own goth style, I felt very comfortable in more regular clothes as well with softer makeup, though I stayed away from her pants, except for leggings. A self-inflicted problem was that I needed four inch heels, and I found myself even walking on my toes at night, when not wearing any shoes. Because of that it became harder and harder to switch back to Paul and go to my classes.
With me studying at Sonya's place, even if she wasn't home, I got to know her roommate Rowan better, and she liked me and she even had me try on some of her clothes. Rowan and I both had no classes on Wednesday afternoon and we went shopping together as I wanted to build up my own wardrobe. There was nothing sexual between us, but it simply clicked, and once more I was surprised how easily Diana made friends while Paul was a loner.
That very same Wednesday, after our shopping trip that we planned to do every week, Sonya took me to her doctor. It was a woman who had helped her to start her transition and who had helped her on her path to womanhood ever since. Of course I went as Diana, even though I had to strip off literally everything, so that Dr Elisabeth Bishop, or Dr Beth as Sonya called her, could do a thorough examination.
The verdict was not unexpected, as she qualified me as dormant transgender, which meant that my life would have been much better, had people recognized it sooner, in my behavior and physical development. In order to move on however with hormone therapy and perhaps a few small surgical modifications, I would have to come out to my family and the school. In essence, I had to become Diana permanently, with all the consequences and fall-outs that often happened to people in similar situations.
She suggested that if I wasn't ready yet to come out, I could continue to crossdress, but there was a major setback. My calves. If I kept going on wearing heels the way I did, the damage could be irreparable. In essence, I would have to wear heels permanently, or deal with continuous pain, which could cause all kinds of other discomforts. Now, if I'd come out as transgender, and choose to keep on wearing heels, then so be it. But, if I had to transform back into Paul to take my classes, it would be awkward to wear significant heels as a guy.
It made for an easy decision. I would not accept any solution in which I couldn't wear heels anymore, and only Diana had that option. In a crooked way of thinking I actually thought it was a pretty cool handicap, having to wear heels for life. And thus I chose to come out.
So, for some reason, if you make such a critical life decision, they make you step back, and reconsider. Think it over. Not until after the weekend could I “officially” confirm my choice, which would put the gears in motion. That included a hormone regimen, or HRT as it was called, official name change papers, with a copy to the University, monthly checkups, and a slew of additional options, most of them not or only partially covered.
Some of the options I deemed necessary, like hair extensions rather than a wig, and at least some facial hair removal, hopefully not too expensive as I didn't have much to start with. Not sure if I needed a psychologist, I figured with Sonya I had enough support. An interesting option was a prescription for Viagra, to stimulate my manhood as it could diminish under the effects of the female hormones. Not sure if I would need it, but we would see. The same was true for a nose job, a tummy tuck, and breast enhancements.
In a way I was lucky that I no longer had a roommate, so I didn't have to move from my dorm. And it was good that I had been looking for more moderate clothes already, as it was probably not a good idea to wear club wear to class. Though I did make a vow to myself. I would always wear skirts and heels.
Sonya had her own discussion with Dr Beth, as I got dressed again, essentially becoming Diana for good now. And when I was done I picked up the last part of their conversation. It had nothing to do with me, but everything to do with her “final” surgery, which had an official date now during the summer break. I was not the only one dealing with life changing decisions.
We were both quiet on our way home, but I took hold of her hand, showing she wasn't alone in this. And the way she leaned into me told me she had my back as well.
The next morning I had made up my mind. I didn't bother transforming back to being Paul, Diana was to stay. Might as well face the world! But it didn't seem like the world cared much. I got a few looks in my class, because I was a face they hadn't seen before yet. Nobody had noticed that Paul wasn't there, and it would have been very uneventful if it wasn't for the professor calling on me.
It wasn't uncommon a few times per class that he asked a direct question to a student, but it had never happened before to me. But as Diana, even though I had dressed down quite a bit, with less dramatic makeup, I stood still out from the other girls with my long hair and my dazzling ear jewelry. But, as I answered the question correctly, he said, “Very good Miss…”, and he grabbed the class book that held all our names. “Turner, professor. Diana Turner.”
“Hmmm”, he said as he looked through the names, “I only have a Paul Turner here.” And as I never really had thought it over how to explain myself, I simply replied. “Yes sir, that was me before my transition.”
That drew a few interested heads, looking my way. Not because they remembered Paul, but because they had not expected a pretty girl confessing that she was trans. And when the professor replied, slightly agitated with “Why wasn't I notified? You'd think they would have updated the class book.” At which I explained, “It's not official until Monday, but I figured why wait until then?”
Everyone, including the professor, seemed to agree with that, and the class continued. But afterwards there were a few students who came to me, introducing themselves to me, and welcoming me, like I was a new student. One or two suggested how brave I was, and a few girls commented on my looks, mostly positive. Only one said to a friend, but loud enough that I could hear it, “She'll never be a real woman.” And although I didn't disagree on that, it also showed that some people really don't understand transgenders. Heck, only a few weeks ago I didn't even know about them, let alone understand them. Little did I know that weeks later that same girl would become one of my best friends, but I will get to that in a bit.
The only class where Paul had not been invisible, and thus the reactions were a bit stronger, was Math the next day. I was considered very bright, and often in discussion with the professor and other students. But, Diana was just as bright, with an added confidence that Paul never had, despite his knowledge. And I won more arguments, simply because I articulated my case better, but also because people seemed more interested in what I had to say.
The professor asked me to stay behind after class, and he awkwardly asked me if I was sure about my transformation. He argued it would be much harder on a woman in the academic Math world, and that it could affect my reputation. But then he contradicted himself, saying that as Diana I would probably secure more funding than the nerd I was before, and he eventually finished saying it was “Brilliant!”
That Friday night Sonya took me out to celebrate my coming-out, and I wore my “rubber” dress, although multiple girls complimented me on my “latex choice”. We had good fun, though more interest from boys than I had anticipated, but in the end we both missed our new friends.
On Saturday Sonya cooked soup, rather than us going out, using a lot of beans with meats like ham, beef and chicken. At first I thought it was chili, but it wasn't spicy, rather a hearty soup indeed, but better and more filling than any soup I ever had before. And when we finished our early dinner, she put the excessive leftovers in a large container, and she told me “Come.”
And we were on our way to our friends, even though they had said they'd stay home due to their shared period. But, as Sonya explained to me, just because we were not “real women”, didn't mean we couldn't sympathize with them. And she was right, as our friends were happy to see us, and they appreciated the soup we had brought. Zara, the culinary student and future chef, complimented multiple times on the soup, and she and Sonya exchanged recipes.
We ended up spending the rest of the day there, playing family games and watching a movie. There was no hint of sex but in a way much more intimacy, as both women openly shared that other part of womanhood that isn't always flashy and often painful even. They were happy for me about coming out, but this part of being a woman I would never really experience. This monthly curse was also a strong reminder that a woman could carry new life into the world.
It was Amy's idea that if I wanted to experience that as well, there were ways to simulate a period and deal with the hassle linked to it. And as easy it would be for me to not have to deal with that stuff, I asked her to text me each first day of her period, and I would match “my period” in the same week.
It brought the discussion to Sonya's final surgery, which would only be weeks after Zara and Amy planned to get married, right after their graduation. And as Sonya and I suddenly had to agree to be their maids of honor, they promised to stand by us when Sonya had her surgery, and whenever I decided to do the same.
Now, I finally understood why they had given me almost a week to think my decision over, because this part I had never considered for myself, even though I was fully supporting Sonya's decision. Is that where I was heading eventually? And how did I feel about that?
It had only been weeks since I started dressing as a woman, and less than a week since I decided to transition. But time is relative because my body had shown the signs for years, and only now my mind had finally caught up.
I knew that I could transition without giving up on my manhood, but even right now it was already an accessory, not necessary to obtain an orgasm. And the thought of giving up on it and replacing it with a pussy, even though it was manufactured, wasn't scary at all, it actually brought a smile to my face.
It was telling that Zara and Amy opened their doors for us from now on, with an open-ended invitation, any day and any time, no matter periods or hangovers, rain or shine, we were welcome in their home and in their lives.
When we left, Amy gave Sonya a gift. It was for the both of us, but it was for Sonya's apartment. We didn't open it until we got home, after a quick ride in an Uber, but when the brown paper came off, Sonya held a painting in her hands. It was me, in perfect detail, in my latex dress, and I looked stunning. She couldn't take her eyes from it and I swear I saw drools dripping from the corner of her mouth.
We hung it up in the bedroom and had intense, yet sensual sex, right under it. And as I woke up in the morning I saw her staring at my painting and she said, “Until I have you in my bed permanently, your image is the first I will look at when waking up, and my day will be good. I'm so happy that you have chosen to become Diana forever.”
This particular day didn't go particularly well though. I called my parents and explained about transitioning into a woman. They were not particularly happy, even suggesting they may stop funding my college fees.
After that unhappy call it took maybe ten minutes before my younger sister called me. She was shocked by our parents' reaction, but she stood behind me. And when I texted her a picture of Sonya and me, she texted back “You both look beautiful together”. And she promised to show it to mom and dad, as she believed they were worried about me bringing home a boyfriend, and this would cheer them up. And indeed, a simple text came later from my mother, “saw the picture of you and your friend. You look lovely!”
After about a month I had pretty much forgotten about my old life as Paul. Paperwork wise I was officially Diana now, and my student ID showed my new looks. I was much more called upon in the classroom, but I liked that my answers were given serious consideration.
I think my parents were indeed coming around, thanks to my sister and some really good pictures, and Sonya and I were planning to visit them in the next school break. I practically lived with Sonya now, but we spent a tremendous amount of time with Zara and Amy.
Sonya and Zara really really hit it off, Zara recognizing that Sonya had quite a talent in cooking and just needed some coaching. And Sonya already worked a few times with Zara at the restaurant. I wasn't complaining, as home cooked meals were now more rule than exception, and it tasted wonderful, and was definitely more healthy.
Likewise Amy and I spent a lot of time together. She recognized my senses that I didn't know I even had. But we went through each of her paintings and I “guessed” on each, what the painting was about, why she had painted it, and how her emotional state had been while she painted it. It was so spot-on, that she concluded that I had to have some creative gene myself. And boy, was she right.
I don't consider myself very creative, except in Math I guess, where I often find alternate ways to solve problems. But, since I became Diana, in other classes I spoke up more often, with alternative ideas on the material at hand. And when she helped me with my makeup one day, I recognized her creative intentions, and suddenly the world opened for me, in that area.
I had been doing it, reasonably successful, essentially repeating what Sonya had taught me. But now, thanks to the way Amy opened my mind, I knew exactly what to do to enhance my looks, based on the mood I was in. And the same applied if I worked on her, and later on Zara and Sonya, even on complete strangers as we found at some point. I knew what colors to pick, how to provide a dramatic look when I felt that was desired, or when to apply softer, or different colors.
She honed my senses also in other ways, through meditation and through yoga exercises, which she called body-sculpting, and under her guidance I could exactly see what movements would target what body part, and thus enhance my overall looks. But, their apartment was not big enough, so she took me to her grandmother's home.
It was only a five minute walk, through a neighborhood with large homes on large lots, which was quite remarkable this close to campus. Some homes were clearly occupied by students, but not grandma Andra's place. Or Andromeda, as I soon learned her official name, and I sensed her mental connection to the Greek mythical figure she was named after. Simply said, Andra was regal, and her home was her palace.
It was easy to see where Amy had her talents from, or maybe that was my own “new” senses speaking now, but Andra recognized it in me for what it was. I could tell which paintings in her home came from Amy's hand, which ones Andra had painted, and the ones she had acquired from other artists. In a way she confirmed what Amy had seen in me already, but Andra's spirit was much stronger even.
Despite her old age, or the fact that she walked with a stick, she joined us in the large exercise room, or gym I guess, that her home offered. And as long as it didn't involve her bad leg, she could still handle every position with an elegance that I knew I should reach for myself.
It was hard not to be impressed with her, but she was impressed with me. And she thanked the Goddess, which I thought odd at first, for bringing me in Amy's life. And clearly she recognized me for what I was, but she called me and Sonya the missing links, even though we hadn't even mentioned my girlfriend yet. And, in an emotional moment, during which she held my face in her hands, I could feel the same electricity I had felt when holding the statue of Zara. And she predicted that I would give her a great-granddaughter, even though she wouldn't be in her earthly form anymore by the time that happened.