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This is a "pilot" for an idea I had. This is my first time writing for this category. This is a complete work of fiction, I know little about transitions and the struggles of it.
The life of his dreams
I was just a regular guy trying to live in a fucked up world. I live in a world where the population is mainly men. Ironically, the world is dominated by women, cis women. You see, despite outnumbering them, women rule. Perhaps because the cause of the decline was men's bad decisions. War, epidemics, pollution, it's not clear, but suddenly we stopped seeing so many women, no girls were born, more infertile women, suddenly for every five men there was one woman, then one for every ten, now there is only one for every 50 men.
I was 20 years old and was walking to my apartment after work. I worked at a local market, moving boxes and crates, sorting fruit. It was a good job, it paid the bills and allowed me to have a comfortable life, besides, it was all I was able to aspire to. You see, another thing that sucks about this world is that the average man has no chance to succeed. Unless you're eligible. Yes, eligible. I applied to be able to marry a cis woman twice, and both times I was rejected.
Once you are chosen to marry one of the few women in the world, the opportunities present themselves. College, good jobs, a nice house. In the meantime, if you are not eligible, you have to settle for any job that requires strength - women decided that there being so much labor force and because of the environmental problem, machines should be avoided. We men are basically beasts of burden, but don't get me wrong, it has its advantages, the stress is low and the hard work keeps us fit.
I stopped at a corner waiting to cross the street, I saw the advertisement on the side of a bus, a picture of a house in the suburbs, a man and a woman smiling, a child standing between the two, they looked happy. The ad says, "Choose the life of your dreams."
I snorted and shook my head "No way" I muttered to myself before walking to my apartment. If you are a man who is not eligible to marry a woman, not only are you not allowed to go to college, or have a high ranking job, but you also don't get to choose where you live, the big apartment buildings are for us - and I'm not talking penthouses, but small one or two bedroom nooks - , the suburbs are for families.
But there is an option. If you can't marry a cis woman, well, you can become a woman... The government helps transitions, and supports couples by giving them more benefits. Hetero-cis couples try all the time to have babies to increase the population of women, but those attempts result in a larger population of men, so those couples with lots of children, give cis male couples with a trans woman children to raise and have a family.
You'll think, "James" - that's my name - "Why don't you marry a trans woman? They look like women, they behave like women, they identify as women, they're basically women!" Well, you see, there's still a very big stigma, you'll also think that as a society we evolved and there's no more homophobia or transphobia, but that's not the case.
I walked into my apartment and Randy was there, sitting on the couch watching TV. I sat on his side and he took a swig to his beer - my friend and roommate had gone a year without alcohol - I sighed.
"Bad news?" I asked. Randy said nothing, and looked down at the floor where a crumpled sheet of paper lay. I grabbed it and unfolded it to read what I already knew. "You were rejected" he nodded, taking in the entire contents of the bottle. Randy dropped the bottle to the carpet and tried to grab another one from the coffee table, but I grabbed the bottle first. "No! Randy! Don't drink it" I said, my friend had given up alcohol and had been eating healthy and exercising to apply to marry a cis woman - for the fourth time.
"There's no point" he shook his head, "Screw it".
"You can apply again next year."
"No... it's common knowledge that after the fourth try they block you, I'm doomed..."
"Don't say that. There's still a chance."
The truth was that my friend was right, it was well known that if you were eligible, you were picked on the first or second try.
That night we went out, I wanted to help Randy clear his head, and a night out drinking would not affect anything in a year that he would reapply. We went to a bar and had a good time. We met some friends and met some girls - trans. We drank and danced. Randy came up to me later in the night, he was drunk.
"Will you take that girl to the apartment?" I asked "I can take a long walk, if you want".
"Nah..." he exclaimed, "I don't think so... I don't know if... you know, if she still has everything down there... I don't want to end up in jail for asking, or misgendering."
Randy and I grew up in an orphanage - we were one of those boys they gave away to keep trying to have a girl - we were best friends, I knew he was disappointed, hurt. We had been living together since we graduated from high school. He wanted to marry a woman, move to the suburbs, have a good job. My eyes filled with tears, his dream was shattered. I don't know why I said it, maybe it was the alcohol, but I looked at Randy and said "I would give anything to make your wish come true."
Randy was silent, he looked me in the eyes and after a few seconds he smiled, "I know... Thanks man" we gave each other a hug and continued partying.
To me it was something I said to make my friend feel good, an empty promise, a vow thrown in the air. I didn't think Randy would interpret it any other way, I knew Randy longed to have a cis woman in his life, I never believed....
The days passed and Randy was thoughtful, quiet. I tried to cheer him up but he was still deep in his thoughts, I noticed he was staring at me, and when I looked at him, he looked the other way. Then, maybe after four or five days, things went back to normal. Randy got up early to go jogging, by the time I left my room, he was back, he was wearing just shorts, no shirt, and he was making smoothies. He poured two glasses and handed me one, he waited for me to take the first sip, attentive to me, I frowned and asked "What?"
"Nothing" said my friend, "Drink it."
"What's in it?"
"Just...fruit..."
I was happy that Randy was with a better attitude, I felt good that maybe I had helped him cheer up, be more positive. I told him that I thought we made a good team, that by being best friends, we would have a good life together. He nodded and smiled in agreement. It was movie night, it had been a while since we had done that, Randy seemed to be more interested in us spending time alone than going out. Maybe it was tiredness from work, I was always falling asleep. I would make the popcorn and Randy would fix us drinks, it didn't seem strange to fall asleep before I could finish what I was drinking, what was strange were the dreams, or so I thought they were. Randy getting up and bringing a syringe, the rest is a blur.
Weeks later, I started to feel strange, even though I was eating more, because Randy was bringing a lot of junk food to the apartment. I felt I was losing weight, I didn't look as muscular as before. One day, while I was taking a shower, I felt my nipples very sensitive when I passed my hand over my chest. I stayed a while looking at myself in the mirror, I didn't see anything strange, well, maybe my nipples looked a little bit bulky. Wearing a shirt became a torture, so I started to walk around the apartment shirtless and whenever I had the chance.
One Saturday morning I came out of the bathroom, I only had a towel around my waist. Randy was preparing the smoothies, I saw him stirring something in one of the glasses, I approached him and looked at him carefully, he was surprised to see me there when he turned around. I didn't think anything of it, he was my best friend, it shouldn't be anything bad, besides, something else was bothering me.
"Randy...do you think there's something different with me?"
"What do you mean?" I could hear him swallow hard.
"Yeah, man, I feel...I don't know...I think I'm losing muscle, and my pants don't fit, like my hips have grown."
"...You don't look any different to me..." he said, but something told me he wasn't being sincere. Maybe not to make me feel bad, we were both good looking, fit, and most girls - trans - told us we were hot.
"I think I need to go to the doctor."
"What!" he said surprised, "I don't think so... I mean... I don't think there's anything wrong with you. You look great."
"Yeah, but... I feel different, weak... emotional..." I sighed, suddenly and out of nowhere tears welled up in my eyes.
"Hey!" Randy walked over to me. He grabbed my face and stared at me, his green eyes looking directly into my hazel eyes. "You're okay. Maybe you're just stressed."
"Stressed Randy? I work moving crates!" I raised my voice.
"Hey! It's okay! Cal..." he preferred not to finish what he was going to say as he felt my eyes drilling into his soul. "Why don't we sit down, and you tell me how you feel?"
I appreciated the gesture and his interest in knowing how I felt. We sat down on the couch and I told him the small changes I was feeling, I felt like I was slimmer, my skin was smoother and what little hair I had was suddenly fading.
"That's why I want to go to the doctor, what if...?"
"What if what, Jamie? You're not sick" he said it very confidently, as if he knew exactly what was wrong with me. How naïve I was.
"But... my nipples Randy, it's not normal..."
"What's not normal? Having sensitive nipples? To me it's very normal."
"But it wasn't like that before, and..."
"And what James?"
"It's embarrassing man..."
"Hey, we're best friends, right?"
I nodded, "I'm not waking up hard anymore... I used to jerk off every morning, and now... I need to go to the doctor."
"Hey, don't worry, maybe you just need to exercise, to activate your body, I always tell you to go jogging with me. How about we take a few days off from work? What do you say? Just you and me."
I agreed because maybe Randy was right, but deep down I felt something weird was going on. That night was movie night, the next day Randy and I would leave for a small trip.
I prepared the popcorn, as usual and went to sit on the couch. I was wearing only sweats. Randy handed me my drink. I was about to put it on the coffee table but Randy wanted to make a toast, "To both of us".
I raised my glass before I drank it all down. The movie started and suddenly I blacked out.
I slowly opened my eyes, the light was bright, I didn't know what was happening. Everything was confusing, I felt dizzy, disoriented, I felt a strong pressure in my chest. I looked at my chest, it was covered with bandages.
"What's going on?" I mumbled. Then the door opened and a nurse came in. I was in a hospital room. "What happened to me?"
"Oh dear, you're awake. Rest, you need it. Your fiancé went for coffee."
"My what?!" I tried to get up but I had no strength, perhaps I was anesthetized or under the influence of strong painkillers.
"Calm down dear!" exclaimed the nurse, "You're going to hurt yourself. Please, Jaime" then I stopped dead in my tracks.
"What did you call me?"
"Uhm..." the nurse, a little confused, looked at a chart with what appeared to be my information, "Jaime, that's your name."
"Well... no one has called me Jaime since I was a boy."
"I'm so sorry dear, it must be a mistake, we're not supposed to call patients by their dead name."
"No, I mean, my name is James, no one calls me Jamie since I was a little boy, the only one who still calls me that is..." then Randy came through the door, "Randy!" I exclaimed, "What's going on? What happened?"
My friend sat down next to me and explained.
He has his doubts about doing it, he told me. He thought about it for days and nights on end. But in the end he made the decision. I had told him I would do anything to make his dream come true. He told me that he knew that if he proposed it, I would not live up to my promise, so he decided to start my transition without me knowing.
Randy was giving me testosterone blockers, drugging me to put me to sleep and injecting me with hormones. I would have continued my change slowly, but I warned him I would go to the doctor. Randy didn't want to risk it, so he drugged me and took me to the clinic.
"I asked for medium sized breasts" he smiled, "I didn't want you to suffer so much for the size" he told me, how thoughtful. "Besides, I've always been an ass man. You'll have to eat more to make it grow."
I was stunned, still unable to believe what was happening.
"No... No Randy... this is wrong" I said, "How could you do this to me?"
"Jaime, listen to me, this is our chance for a better life. We already live together. We are best friends. You promised to make my dream come true. You are in the sex reassignment program, the government will pay for everything. I'm registered as your fiancé. They'll give us a house Jaime, a house in the suburbs! And then... then they'll give us a child."
"Oh my god! Oh my..." I couldn't handle so much information, I had to throw up, I had a hard time throwing up from the pressure of the implants in my chest.
"You're sick Randy..." I told him when I could calm down, "This is wrong, this is sick... I don't want it, no..."
"Jaime... you can make more than one person happy with this. Listen, not only will we have a better life, but we can give a better life to a kid who will end up in an orphanage if we don't do this. You remember how it was."
"But Randy, I never wanted this, why did you do it?"
"Because you promised it..."
The system was broken, rigged. I had no say. Once Randy filled out the forms there was no turning back. Not even because I arrived at the clinic unconscious did they question Randy, he had my documents, proof of a "relationship", we lived together, we traveled together. Society didn't want one more gay couple, so they approved my transition.
First it was the boobs. Then a stronger hormone therapy that made me change faster. Smoother skin, a more delicate voice. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't stand to look like that. Randy helped me to move around, my friend helped me to take showers, helped me to go to the bathroom, made me pee sitting down - to get used to it.
At night I cried, reluctant to my new reality, because of my friend's betrayal. Because of the helplessness that no one would listen to me. In therapy they told me that I was confused, that it was normal to feel regret, but that it was temporary. I told them no, that I really didn't want to change.
I wanted to hate Randy, but he was caring and loving, he cared about me. The nurses loved him. He was charming...handsome...his smile was...what the hell! It had been weeks, one surgery after another modifying my body, getting rid of my body hair and any manly traits left on me. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I had masturbated, that had been in the past with the last surgery, but there was a warmth, a tingle inside me that had been growing, spreading. My attention went to my friend, I began to see him differently, the way he was with me made me not be able to hate him. His familiar face made me not take my eyes off him, his rough hands helping me walk made me feel safe. His strong arms embracing me made me feel... his.
Not only had they changed me physically, they also changed my chemistry, I can't explain it any other way because I began to feel different.
I spent months in the clinic, but I finally got out of there, for the first time seeing the city again, but the city would not see me in the same way. I left the hospital gowns, Randy bought me a dress, it was tight despite my slim figure, my breasts were supple and my hips were wider. Randy looked at me, smiling and gave me his hand. I hesitated for a moment, then I took his hand. Randy took me to the car and drove out of town, I looked back at my past life driving away.
We arrived at a beautiful house in the suburbs. A wide lawn, I took off my shoes to walk barefoot. Randy opened the door, as I was transitioning, Randy did the paperwork to get us a house as the new straight couple we were. He started studying and quickly got a good job.
"We have a big kitchen."
"You know I can barely cook..."
"But you're going to learn," he told me, "You'll make new friends, who will share recipes and give you tips."
I looked at the floor, not knowing what to say, not knowing exactly what to think.
"It's going to be okay" Randy told me.
I nodded. "I know..."
Randy reached over, grabbed my waist firmly. I looked up, I couldn't help it, I was lost in his eyes. He kissed me.
That night I prepared an overcooked pasta and a tasteless steak. Randy made love to me for the first time. He was tender and loving, he didn't care that I wasn't a cis woman, because I was his friend, his woman, without prefixes.
Randy was inside all my cavities, he was big, but I took it. He was gentle, patient. He ate my new pussy, and I tasted for the first time a cock, that thick cock that many times I saw without lust as buddies, but I tasted it and... I loved it. Hearing him moan in pleasure and knowing it was because of me.
I feared that the change in my genitals would have affected my pleasure. I don't know the cause, but I had the best orgasms of my life, physical orgasms, or mental orgasms, caused by the feeling of being possessed. I didn't care if from that day on I was going to have them every night.
Randy and I had to make it official and get married to continue the benefits. I didn't see it as just another bureaucratic step, I cried when I finally said "I do".
Then Randy finished school and got a better job. We were able to apply for the adoption program. One afternoon, Randy came home - I was no longer burning the food - he looked sad.
"What's wrong Randy?" I was nervous, we were waiting for news about the adoption. "Is it about...?" he nodded. I was really looking forward to being a mom. Randy was a good man and I was sure he would make a great dad.
"I have some bad news for you..."
I took a deep breath.
"We have to move."
I was stunned. "But why?! We love it here! We have to move back to the city?"
Then Randy couldn't help but smile. "We have to move to a bigger house. Because they approved of us adopting two kids!"
"Two! Randy!"
He nodded vigorously. "Two! They were impressed when they interviewed you!"
"No way!" I couldn't help but blush.
Randy hugged me, and kissed me. "You'll make an excellent mom."
Randy and I moved into a bigger house with three bedrooms and a pool. My husband works to give us a good life while I take care of the house and the kids - oddly enough they have light brown hair like me, and green eyes like their dad, as if it was meant to be. On weekends we lounge in the backyard, the kids play in the pool while I make lemonade and Randy grills burgers - one with double meat and extra bacon to keep my ass big for him. I'm thinking of getting bigger boobs, now I enjoy how other men see me.
I am a happy woman, devoted mother, and indulgent wife. Randy made a rash and seemingly selfish decision, but every night I thank him with the best sex.