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Description
I'd had a promising future ahead of me, with a beautiful girlfriend that my parents adored, and a guaranteed future in my uncle's law firm. I'd have a couple of kids, move into politics... My future was already planned out.

A visit to a local bar changed all that. I'd built up a pleasant beer buzz and was working on my next Corona, when a girl sat next to me. She was flirty and sexy and made it clear my luck was in. She was all over me as we got in her car and went back to her place. I passed out before we arrived.

I'd been expecting guilt-free, one-time sex. Instead, I woke up in a small, locked room. It had a bed, a light fitting, and basic washing and toilet facilities. My captors were always masked, and never spoke beyond necessary commands. They were always brisk and businesslike, but I could tell that the woman took a cruel pleasure in my captivity.

And so started a regime of injections and tests. Mysterious injections, on a schedule I could not predict. There were blood pressure tests too, and taking samples of my blood and urine. The food was bland and insufficient, and I started losing weight rapidly. I tried to overpower the woman before I grew too weak, but she escaped my hold and overpowered me with contemptuous ease.

Initially I threatened them: My father is a powerful man. When that had no effect, I reasoned with them: My father is a wealthy man. Finally, I begged them: I just want to go home. They were unmoved.

Time passed, so slowly. After a while I realised what they were doing: they were turning me into a woman. Fat gathered behind my nipples. The flesh was puffy and sore. The strength drained away from my arms and legs. I was losing muscle from all over my body, not just my limbs. I ached everywhere, an ache that came from deep within me.

Without natural light, I quickly lost an accurate sense of time. As time dragged on, and the injections continued, I saw the changes progress. I was not growing facial hair any more, and the hair on the rest of my body was much finer too. On the other hand, the head-hair was growing rapidly. I felt very tired and slept a lot.

That made my changes all the more shocking when I was fully awake. My ass and thighs were rapidly growing, rounder and plumper. A woman's backside was forming, a counterpoint to the flesh on my chest that was swelling into a sizeable, shapely, sensitive pair of breasts.

So there I was, taking on the form of a woman, losing my identity as a man. Even my balls and my dick were shrinking. I should have raged at the loss, but I was too exhausted. As my balls vanished inside me, a cleft was forming between my legs, the flesh tender and inflamed. A pain started, inside me. A process, unknown to me, was happening to my internal organs. I folded up, crying and begging for pain relief. It grew worse, until I passed out.

They didn't let me die. Instead, I woke up in the University of Alabama Hospital, in Birmingham, Alabama – my own state. The doctors did not believe I was a man originally, the changes were so extensive. Even when they spread my legs and looked deep inside me, with rubber gloves and cold surgical instruments, they could not tell. Fortunately my dental records, and some unusual blood values, convinced them that I was who I said I was. It takes well over a year for a man to transition, via hormones and serious surgery, into a woman.

My captors had done a better job, without surgery, in four months.

Meeting my parents in hospital was awkward. I was in shock, and felt that they did not really understand. They said the right words, but were more concerned with hushing it up, with hiding me away, avoiding the shame and reputational damage of the news getting out. My girlfriend visited me too, held my hand, and told me that she was splitting up with me. I was a woman now after all, physically at least, and she could not have a relationship with another woman.

I did not argue. I did not actually care that much.

The doctors thought that I was a medical miracle, and wanted to keep me in hospital so that they could study me. They wanted to know how every part of me could have changed, and so quickly. I had the womb, and all the plumbing, of a natural-born woman, with no sign of surgery. They were close-lipped about how this could have been done to me, but let slip that I needed no further hormone supplements to be a woman, I was supplying my own estrogen.

I did not want to be their lab rat. As soon as I was strong enough, eight days later, I discharged myself and moved into the family home in Montgomery. A week after that, I had my first period.

If I thought that I had accepted that I was now a woman, that was the thing that truly drove it home. My life, my very nature, had changed utterly. If I had thought about it before, I had viewed trans people with varying degrees of pity, contempt and puzzlement. But now I was one of them! As I read up about trans people, I learned about the prejudice, violence and even death trans people suffered, to say nothing of the anguish from growing up in the wrong body. Really, I was lucky. My transformation had been brief by comparison, and I had no telltale masculine features left to give me away.

When I read about what was involved in female-to-male transitions, I gave up any idea that I could 'go back' to what I had been. Instead I would make the best of my new gender. I was now far more educated on trans matters, and my opinions had changed dramatically. I felt at odds now with my parents, and their ignorant, closeted views. As much as I loved them, I would no longer follow their plans for me.

I am a new person now and I will make my own future.

Plans change... like my plans for what this caption would be about.

Image by Freepik

Description
I'd had a promising future ahead of me, with a beautiful girlfriend that my parents adored, and a guaranteed future in my uncle's law firm. I'd have a couple of kids, move into politics... My future was already planned out.

A visit to a local bar changed all that. I'd built up a pleasant beer buzz and was working on my next Corona, when a girl sat next to me. She was flirty and sexy and made it clear my luck was in. She was all over me as we got in her car and went back to her place. I passed out before we arrived.

I'd been expecting guilt-free, one-time sex. Instead, I woke up in a small, locked room. It had a bed, a light fitting, and basic washing and toilet facilities. My captors were always masked, and never spoke beyond necessary commands. They were always brisk and businesslike, but I could tell that the woman took a cruel pleasure in my captivity.

And so started a regime of injections and tests. Mysterious injections, on a schedule I could not predict. There were blood pressure tests too, and taking samples of my blood and urine. The food was bland and insufficient, and I started losing weight rapidly. I tried to overpower the woman before I grew too weak, but she escaped my hold and overpowered me with contemptuous ease.

Initially I threatened them: My father is a powerful man. When that had no effect, I reasoned with them: My father is a wealthy man. Finally, I begged them: I just want to go home. They were unmoved.

Time passed, so slowly. After a while I realised what they were doing: they were turning me into a woman. Fat gathered behind my nipples. The flesh was puffy and sore. The strength drained away from my arms and legs. I was losing muscle from all over my body, not just my limbs. I ached everywhere, an ache that came from deep within me.

Without natural light, I quickly lost an accurate sense of time. As time dragged on, and the injections continued, I saw the changes progress. I was not growing facial hair any more, and the hair on the rest of my body was much finer too. On the other hand, the head-hair was growing rapidly. I felt very tired and slept a lot.

That made my changes all the more shocking when I was fully awake. My ass and thighs were rapidly growing, rounder and plumper. A woman's backside was forming, a counterpoint to the flesh on my chest that was swelling into a sizeable, shapely, sensitive pair of breasts.

So there I was, taking on the form of a woman, losing my identity as a man. Even my balls and my dick were shrinking. I should have raged at the loss, but I was too exhausted. As my balls vanished inside me, a cleft was forming between my legs, the flesh tender and inflamed. A pain started, inside me. A process, unknown to me, was happening to my internal organs. I folded up, crying and begging for pain relief. It grew worse, until I passed out.

They didn't let me die. Instead, I woke up in the University of Alabama Hospital, in Birmingham, Alabama – my own state. The doctors did not believe I was a man originally, the changes were so extensive. Even when they spread my legs and looked deep inside me, with rubber gloves and cold surgical instruments, they could not tell. Fortunately my dental records, and some unusual blood values, convinced them that I was who I said I was. It takes well over a year for a man to transition, via hormones and serious surgery, into a woman.

My captors had done a better job, without surgery, in four months.

Meeting my parents in hospital was awkward. I was in shock, and felt that they did not really understand. They said the right words, but were more concerned with hushing it up, with hiding me away, avoiding the shame and reputational damage of the news getting out. My girlfriend visited me too, held my hand, and told me that she was splitting up with me. I was a woman now after all, physically at least, and she could not have a relationship with another woman.

I did not argue. I did not actually care that much.

The doctors thought that I was a medical miracle, and wanted to keep me in hospital so that they could study me. They wanted to know how every part of me could have changed, and so quickly. I had the womb, and all the plumbing, of a natural-born woman, with no sign of surgery. They were close-lipped about how this could have been done to me, but let slip that I needed no further hormone supplements to be a woman, I was supplying my own estrogen.

I did not want to be their lab rat. As soon as I was strong enough, eight days later, I discharged myself and moved into the family home in Montgomery. A week after that, I had my first period.

If I thought that I had accepted that I was now a woman, that was the thing that truly drove it home. My life, my very nature, had changed utterly. If I had thought about it before, I had viewed trans people with varying degrees of pity, contempt and puzzlement. But now I was one of them! As I read up about trans people, I learned about the prejudice, violence and even death trans people suffered, to say nothing of the anguish from growing up in the wrong body. Really, I was lucky. My transformation had been brief by comparison, and I had no telltale masculine features left to give me away.

When I read about what was involved in female-to-male transitions, I gave up any idea that I could 'go back' to what I had been. Instead I would make the best of my new gender. I was now far more educated on trans matters, and my opinions had changed dramatically. I felt at odds now with my parents, and their ignorant, closeted views. As much as I loved them, I would no longer follow their plans for me.

I am a new person now and I will make my own future.

Plans change... like my plans for what this caption would be about.

Image by Freepik