Dear Diary

When given pills to help with his aggression, a man finds himself changing more than his attitude.


Thursday, January 4th, 2018

Dear diary,

Fuck you.  And fuck you too, Dr. Swalley.

Friday, January 12th, 2018


This is the stupidest shit I’ve ever done, I swear to god.

Fine.  Fine.  For Kiera.

“You don’t talk much, Tony,” she says.

I mean, no shit.  What’s there to talk about?  I just get mad, okay?  Who doesn’t?  It’s all bullshit.  Trying to keep ahead, listening to your coworker’s crap, all those fuckin’ people on the road that don’t know how to drive.  Kiera bitching and moaning about her friends and her job and how I need to be better with her.

She’s been with me a couple years.  She should’ve known I had a shitty day especially after I told her to lay off with her noise.  But she kept pushing and pushing.

“What’s wrong, Tony?  Rough day, Tony?  Boss on your ass, Tony?  Share your fucking feelings, Tooooony.”

Alright.  So maybe not those last parts but fuckin’ basically.

Okay, okay.  She’s a good woman.  I know.  I know.  I shouldn’t.  I shouldn’t have hit her.  All that noise just built and built and she was right there in my face.  I apologized, dammit.  Tried to hold her when I calmed down but, okay, yeah.  She didn’t want me to touch her.  Figured she needed to cool off so I went out.

Came home at some point.  Night time.  What does it matter?  Didn’t notice all her shit was gone until I woke up.  Well, most of her shit.  I swear to god women fuckin’ hide their clothes like fuckin’ squirrels packing away food for the winter.  Two fucking years, man.  I gave her two years.  Treated her right.  Bought her things.  Took her out.  Listened to her talk about her friends.  Kelly and that other girl.

So I drank some more.  And called her, I guess.

Here I am.  Therapy.  The dumbest shit.  What’s there to talk about, anyway?  Kiera just needs to toughen up and learn to pay attention.  To just give me some space and fucking quiet when I need it.  But I guess this is better than Kiera going to the cops.  Which is a whole other can of BS.  We made a deal and I talk to a therapist and she maybe comes back.

No, I don’t talk much, Dr. Swalley.  I don’t share my “feelings” and I ain’t repressing any damn thing.

Now I gotta write this stupid journal.  Hand write.  Not type.  My fucking hand hurts.  Gonna hit the gym until I can’t think anymore.

Wednesday, January 17th, 2018


Talked about my old man today just to make Dr. Swalley shut up.  I watched her nod with her prissy little glasses and take notes every time I said he raised his voice or beat my ass.  I’m not stupid.  I know what she’s looking for and what that means.  My father disciplined me.  Oh, I’m sorry.  He abused me as a child so now I got anger problems.

For fucks sake.  That’s what’s wrong with people these days.  They go around worrying about feelings and hurting people.  We’re churning out a bunch of pussies that are gonna fall real damn hard when they’re out in the real world and outside of their little warm cocoons.

The. World. Does. Not. Give. A. Shit.

I mean, look at my mom.  She stuck around through all of it because she was raised in that generation.  I raise my voice at Kiera and she tucks tail and runs.

Still, last session took a good fucking turn because guess who got some drugs out of it?

Me.  Little happy pills.  With a side of scotch for a right proper fuckin’.  Just like college.  I swear to god Dr. Swalley’s eyes lit up when I agreed to take them.  Little does she know.

Recliner?  Check.

Pills?  Check.

Scotch?  Check.

Here’s to you, doctor.

Thursday, January 18th, 2018


Home early today.  Had a really fuckin’ nice night, all smooth and mild and floaty until I passed right the hell out.

Cramps when I woke up.  Pretty fucking bad. Sat on the toilet sweating bullets until my legs fell asleep.  Kinda felt a little better so I got dressed and went in.

Sat through the morning review.  My numbers are looking good this month so far.  But, Jesus, those cramps just came back like little drills in my guts, man.  Groaned, grabbed my stomach and barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up.  Chuck even came in to check on me.  Who fuckin’ does that?  I’m in there puking my guts out and you’re gonna ask if I’m feeling okay?  You need me to puke on your fuckin’ shoes to see that I’m not fucking feeling okay, Chuck??

Told him to piss off and he left.

There’s no warning label on the pill bottle.  It’s just a label with my name written on it.  Dr. Swalley’s not answering her goddamn ph-

Fuck.  Whoa.  Fuck.  The, uh, the cramps went away all of a sudden and I’m feeling pretty fucking good.  Everything’s all tingling and I can’t stop rubbing my tongue against the top of my mouth.  This is some good shit.  Probably just fucked up by drinking with it.  Shit.  I can’t stop touching myself.  Like that time I took ecstasy at the club.  Fuckin’ wish Kiera was here right now because I’ve got the biggest goddamn boner I’ve ever had.  Gonna just take care of this bad boy real quick.

Back, haha, fuck.  Three fuckin’ times.  I think that’s a new record.  Gonna ask Dr. Swalley about side effects when I leave in a second.  Man, this is some good shit.

There’s four pills left.  I’m supposed to take one every other day but, haha, fuck that.

Two little pills down the hatch.  Heading off to see the doctor and I’ll just beg for some more.  I’ll just whine and pout like a good little boy and tell her how good my feelings are because of the pills.

Friday, January 19th, 2018


It’s a fucking boutique store.

I don’t fucking understand.  I stood outside on the goddamn sidewalk for ten fucking minutes yesterday, staring at it.  Women went inside and came back out like it was no big deal but it’s a fucking clothes store.  Tuesday it was the doctor’s office.  Three days ago.  I was here three days ago.

“Unique Boutique” is what the letters say on the windows now.  The little golden letters are worn – chipped a at the ends here and there.  I don’t understand.  It looks like it’s been there for fucking years.

Even with the pills riding my body, I was pissed.  Stomped inside, ready to yell and about four women turned to look at me.  Shut me right the hell up. These tall blonde and brunette girls in their fancy clothes.

That’s what a fucking boutique store is – fancy clothes and necklaces and crap.  The whole place smelled like clothes and, fuck if I know. Incense?  It just looked like the place belonged there, you know what I’m saying?  There’s no fucking way on God’s green Earth that this place set up shop in three days and looked this settled.

I kinda stepped back and the happy little pills burned away my anger until I could feel it in my ears and cheeks.  Goddamn women staring at me.  Found the lady that owned the place – arranging things in the corner.  Sexy as hell young black woman with these thin dreads pulled up tight in a bun.  Wore some long blue dress with a thin scarf looking thing over her shoulders.  I think there’s a word for that.  Not a scarf but I had to ask her what it was because it was bothering the shit out of me, not knowing the word.  It’s a ‘stole’.  Fuckin’ women and all their fancy damn clothes.  Not good enough to have just jeans and a shirt, no.  Looked good, though.  On her.  I could see why she’d wear it with the dress.

So I ask and she laughed.  Fuckin’ bitch laughed in my face.  Said she’d been there for five fuckin’ years and didn’t know anybody in the district named Dr. Swalley.  I started to argue with her but I just fuckin’ couldn’t.  She asked if anything was wrong and that was worse.

I don’t remember running out of the place.



Nobody else is gonna read this so it doesn’t fuckin’ matter.  It was the damn pills anyway.  I stood inside the bus stop booth and cried like a little bitch.  Had to be the goddamn pills.  Coming down from the high or something.  It was just fuckin’ humiliating is all.  She laughed in my damn face and I had to look fucking stupid.

Fuck this.  I’m going to sleep.

Saturday, January 20th, 2018


I feel better.

You know, I thought this whole thing was stupid but here I am on a Saturday morning writing in a fucking diary.

I tried Dr. Swalley’s number and some guy answered.  Deep voice prick asking who I was.  Said I had the wrong number.  Got pissed when I asked how long he’d had the number.  Eight years.  Who the fuck was Dr. Swalley?  I know I didn’t imagine any of this shit.  I’ve still got the-

Aw fuck.  The pills.  I thought it was okay since she was a doctor.  Doctor therapists give out pills, right?  Should they still have the right label on them?  Fuck.  I mean.  I feel good.  Even the next day, my body still feels all tingly and alive, you know?  Can’t be that fucking bad, can it?  I just won’t take any more.

And speaking of tingling, time to load up some porn and go to town before I hit the gym.


I can’t get hard and I’m leaking a little.  It’s all clear and not a lot but it’s there.  Fuckin’ had my favorite video going, stroking myself and then- fucking nothing.  Barely a semi-chub.  I pumped my dick until it hurt.  I could feel it, you know?  Stirring, moving against me but just limp.

Almost called into urgent care but I’ll wait a few days and see how it feels.  Probably a side effect of the pills that bitch gave me.  I’m way too fucking young for this shit.

You ever just stare at the mirror and get a weird feeling of seeing a stranger?  Or just seeing yourself out of your own body in the 3rd person?  I used to when I was a kid.  Wake up to brush my teeth and just wonder who the fuck I was.

So there I am, changing in the gym locker room, washing my face and, yeah, I dunno.  Probably looked pretty damn stupid standing there, touching my nose and lips but I just- fuck, I don’t know how to say it right.  Maybe it’s some weird psychosis thing from the pills or just all the stress or something.  At least the zit on my nose went away finally.  In fact, my whole face was looking good.  Smooth.

Still tingling.  Could feel my dick move a little when I thumbed my lips.  Felt good.  Just slid my finger along my lips slowly and shivered.  Felt real good until I remembered where I was.  Acting like a fool in front of the guys.

The good news is, I’m still losing weight.  Shirt was a little loose on me and I had to pull the strings tighter on my shorts.

Think I gotta take a few rest days, though.  Kinda struggled with some of the weights and where I should be at with them.  Had a bro come over to spot me on the bar.  I was fuckin’ red in the face from shame.  I swear to god, some of these fuckers are on steroids.  I thought I was doing well and bulking up a little.  Well, mostly losing weight and building up some muscle.  These guys, though?  These assholes are built.

After we were done, I asked him how he did it and he lied through his teeth. Just working out, my ass.  Still, impressive.  Took a breather between sets and watched a group of them moving through the stations.  Just so effortlessly.  Man, I need to up my game that’s for damn sure.

Kiera never said it out loud since she’d know I’d be pissed but these doped out fuckers were always her type.  I guess I could kinda see why.  She’s pretty tiny and any of these guys could probably wrap one hand around her waist and pick her up.  She loved being the little spoon.

Gotta remember to watch where I am.  Sat there with a thousand yard stare and I probably looked like a fucking tool.  Just, my body still feels good, you know?  And, sitting there, in the middle of all the sweat and muscles and women in yoga pants, I could feel my dick actually getting a little hard.  All the endorphins in the air or some shit.  And the women.

I should call Kiera tonight.  I miss her a little bit.

Sunday, January 21st, 2018


I’m going to make a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.  There was blood on my shirt when I woke up.  Took a second to notice but my fucking nipples are bleeding.  Well.  Were bleeding.  Some dried blood on my chest and nipples.

My chest is sore, too.  Massaging seemed to help (and, okay, felt kinda good) but something’s gotta be wrong.  And while I’m listing off the damage, my neck hurts but I think that’s just my shitty pillow again.  Tossed and turned all night.  Weird dreams but I can’t remember them now.  Just woke up sweaty and sore and bleeding from my fucking nipples.

I don’t want to go out today.  I feel gross and tired and I’m in a shitty mood.  I thought these damn pills would be out of my system by now but I still want to just cry like a fucking pussy.

I’m so sorry, Kiera.  For all of it.  I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Monday, January 22nd, 2018


Hey Diary,

I’m sorry I told you to fuck off at the beginning.  I’m starting to feel like keeping a journal is the only thing keeping me sane.

So.  Here I am in the bathroom at work.

Do I have to shit?  No.

I just-  I just keep getting overly fucking emotional.  I fucked up a pretty big order with a customer this morning and got yelled at for it.  I couldn’t get angry back like I always do.  I felt the anger but then my ears started burning and my face got all hot and-

I had to bite my lip when I felt the tears starting.  Hard.  I had to bite hard and blink and just nod my head and take it until I could get up and make a fucking beeline for the bathroom.

Just finished crying as quietly as possible.  God fucking knows now is when Chuck would stop in to check on me.  Couldn’t fucking handle it right now if he did.

My chest still hurts.  I keep trying to massage it but it’s tender and my nipples are sore now.  I had cotton balls taped  on my nipples because my shirt is weirdly loose and it hurt every time the shirt touched them.

Gotta get back to work.

What a fucking shitty day.

I just want to snap at every little damn thing. And then cry about it.  So here I am in bed, Diary.  TV’s on and a glass of whiskey on the side table.

It’s freezing outside but I dunno.  I’m feeling way too warm.  Just sitting here in my underwear in the middle of January.  I don’t feel sick or anything; just kinda warm all over.

Those pills are calling to me.  It was easier in college.  Drugs fucking everywhere but I stopped taking after I moved away and lost my connections.

It was just such a shitty day, you know?  And the high felt pretty damn good.  It’d help take the edge off and let me relax a little.

Alright, Diary.  You convinced me.

Washed the last two pills down with some whiskey and now I’m sitting waiting for it to work.  I think I’ll check around for a dealer after this.  Some dumb college kid looking for money or something.  They’re always-

Oh.  Oh, there it is.  Yeah.  Fuck.

Hard for me to describe exactly, Diary.  Lemme see.  My face first.  Like.  Uh.  That shiver you get right before you get goosebumps.  Only electric and warm at the same time.  Running my hands along my face makes me wanna squirm a little and even my useless dick feels it.

But my lips.  God.  Mostly right there.  I love touching them.  Feeling my touch on them.  Tracing them with my finger and feeling how full and sensitive they are.

Now I can feel it in my toes and fingers.  And the tips of my ears, I think.  My hot breath on my fingers sends a shiver down my spine.  Fuuuck.  I can feel the goosebumps down my arms.

I’m back again.  I took a second there.  Look.  I get what Dr. Swalley wanted.  She just wanted me to write down all the thoughts and feelings and shit I had.  Just for me.  Nobody else is gonna read this crap.  It’s just for me to have someone to talk.  To work through my shit without worrying about someone judging me.  And I fucking know you won’t judge me.

One of the best things I loved about X was how everything felt fucking amazing.  Me and the girl I was fucking at the time.  I wanted to just fucking touch her and have her touch me.  Sucking and licking her was amazing when I was on it.

And let me tell you, this is even better.  I put my finger in my mouth and it was incredible.  My tongue was all itchy in that good way I can’t explain and my fingers were just alive with sensations.  I couldn’t stop just rolling my tongue over and over against it.

It was enough to make my stomach ache.  Grabbed my dick and pulled at it hard.  Fucking frustration.  It leaked a little again.

I- I think I got some in my mouth.

I mean, it’s just mine so what the fuck ever and I didn’t even notice until I was sucking on my fingers against.

It was salty, Diary.  I wasn’t paying attention and tasted something and it took me a second.  It wasn’t bad or anything.  Just different.  Rubbed it on the roof of my mouth a little until it was gone.

God, I miss masturbatnig.  My balls ache and my stomach hurts but in a weird way that kinda feels good.

It’s moving now.  The tingling.  From my fingertips to my arms and down my chest.  And my legs!  Oh fuck, they feel so good right now.  I can’t stop rubbing and touching my thighs.  Hold on.

I took the cotton balls off.  My nipples were throbbing.  They look okay, I think.  Just really swollen.  Sensitive.

Why did none of my fucking exes ever play with my nipples?  Why didn’t I know men’s nipples could even be sensitive?  Because they are.  Kinda hurt to just touch them so I got my fingers wet a little.  Still feels really good to suck on them, tbh.

Maybe two pills was overkill but I keep getting hot pulses down my back and chest and everything feels fantastic.  Even better than that first night.  I should’ve kept one pill or taken a picture so I could find out what they were and get some new

Shit.  I got distracted.  Anyway.  Wet fingers for the win.  Felt really good on my swollen, hot nipples.  Getting excited just thinking about it again.  Just slowly circling them, pressing them down a little, pulling a little, sucking on my fingers to get them wet and doing it all over again.  I’m abso-fucking-lutely getting Kiera to do this when she comes back.  Makes my guts ache in a good way.

I started getting a little hard again so I tried masturbating while playing with my nipple.  Eyes closed, biting my lip, breathing hard, pinching and pulling and rubbing and I almost came.  Almost.  God, I could feel the edge of it and even that was an incredible sensation – getting so close to getting off but not able to do it.

My chest hurts, tho.  Fucked with my nipples too much, I think.  Gonna massage myself a little and call it a night.  Thank god for the pills.


It was just a little and I still didn’t get hard but, Jesus Fucking Christ it felt soooo good.

I was massaging my chest – just kinda squeezing and rubbing the muscles and it felt great.  I was just doing that with one hand and touching my legs with the other and I got a semi.  Got my fingers wet again and kinda played with my nipple while massaging myself and tugging at my junk.  I couldn’t stop moving my legs.  My whole body was on fire!  I had to cover my face with a pillow because I was breathing too loud and strong and it was embarrassing, you know?  But I could feel it coming, finally, after so many days.

Fuck, Diary.  FUCK.  I came and it hurt deep in my balls.  Hurt and felt so good that I fuckin’ jack-knifed right there in bed and yelled out.  I almost ripped the sheets grabbing onto them and my whole goddamn body shook from it.  Fuckin’ blue balls.

Tired now, though.  Just sitting here in the afterglow of it.  Floating.  It wasn’t much cum but I can feel it on my leg. I finally got off.  Thank Christ.  Sleepy.




I tasted myself again.

Tuesday, January 23rd, 2018


Something’s wrong, Diary.

I’m in the bathroom at work again.  I’m keeping you real fucking close so nobody reads ANY of this shit.

My chest was hurting all morning.  Throbbing.  I’m sitting in the stall again, with my shirt unbuttoned and, I just-

I fucking got little titties, Diary.  No fucking shit.

Fucking Jonathon made a joke about it being cold while staring at me and I look down to see my nipples pressed hard against my shirt.  They’re still fucking swollen and thick.  I didn’t put any cotton balls on them today.  I fucking should’ve and taped them down again but it just- it just felt real good against my shirt.  Made me excited every time I moved and felt it against my nipples.  So no fucking wonder they were hard.

But then my chest started throbbing and got all hot.

I watched it happen.  Unbuttoned my shirt on the toilet and watched.  They aren’t pecs.  It’s not muscle.  It’s like.  I was rubbing my chest to make the pain go away and I fucking felt something move inside.  I nearly yelled out-fucking-loud when I saw it happen.  Right below my nipples the skin just bulged.

It was fucking alien.  I felt this- this heaviness inside my chest and something almost snap or move or something and the skin pulled tight and then bubbled out.  Just a little bit but enough to be really FUCKING obvious to anyone that sees me shirtless.

I thought my nipples were just, I dunno, irritated or something but fucking no.  I have fucking breasts, Diary!!

I think those goddamn pills were estrogen pills.  She put me on fuckin’ lady pills to make me stop being so aggressive and now I’m fucking sitting here in the bathroom with my shirt open and my little titties out and I’m fucking crying.  What kind of bullshit is this?

I’m okay.  Back at my desk with my jacket on and I’m all hunched over.  Now I am thankful for losing all that weight recently.  Loose shirt is helping to hide my tits.  Just gotta ignore the way my undershirt feels when it drags against my nipples.  It’s fucking distracting.

Going to go to the gym when I’m off work and talk to some of the bros about testosterone shots tonight.  Thank fucking god I finished those goddamn pills.

Aw shit.  I’m gonna fucking cry again.

Not going back to the gym again.  Need to call and cancel.

Still too hot in my bed but I just can’t deal with anything right now so I’m fucking hiding under the covers like some middle school kid with a flashlight and my diary.  Emotional pussy.

Got home and that was fine, right? Got dressed and was about to leave for the gym when I look down and see my fucking titties bulging against my chest and my nipples rock hard.

It’s weird.  Fucking disgusting but I mean, I like tits so it was also kinda hot.  In a way it’s like, that’s not me, right?  That’s some chick and that fucked with my brain a bit.  They’re just little titties but my shirt was tight and you could see the curve of them.  If you missed that?  No worries because my fat nipples would be having a goddamn staring contest with you.

Almost gave up until I remember Kiera left some of her shit here.  So I dug around and found one of her sports bras.  With her being as small as she was, I was surprised at how well it fit me but I guess I have lost weight. Still tight enough that they pulled my tits flat.

Checked myself out to make sure everything looked okay and I’m surprised at how good I look. Pretty slim and smooth.  I guess I haven’t been eating as much or drinking beers every night.  Stomach is starting to look a little flat.  Looks like I’m due for a haircut soon, though. Kinda messy up top.  Just put in a reminder on my phone for that since I forgot to earlier.

Oh.  I also stole Kiera’s shorts.  They’re that yoga pants shit only in shorts form.  Mine were just too tight against my thighs and ass and looked all weird.  Hers expand better.

Okay.  I won’t lie to you, Diary.  They also felt good on me and that’s the other reason why.  It’s like a second skin and I’m still feeling sensitive from those pills.  Feels real good but, low key real good you know?  Curves right around tight against my ass and thighs.

Like a secret pleasure.  Makes my face hot.

And, hey, until I get some shots of T, you could barely even see my bulge.

Shit.  I got distracted from what I was saying.  The fucking gym.

So I go and get checked in and start in on the elliptical to warm up.  Just kinda zoning out.  Kinda easier to do that lately.  All good, feeling the burn in my thighs so I figure I’m nice and warmed up and it’s time to find the ‘roid heads.  Free weight section as always.

I make my way over there and give a little nod and a smile to a few guys that smile back.  All, “Look at me, I’m just a normal not-cop looking for drugs” you know?

And Jesus, these guys were fucking built.  Made my heart stop a little how big their arms were.  Kinda watched them a while, doing curls and pull downs, watching their arms and backs work.  Just fucking amazing, you know?  Incredible physiques.

That’s when I caught myself in the mirror.  Smiling with my finger on my lips, playing with it and feeling that little thrill of nerves along my mouth and tongue and down my back.  I didn’t even know I was doing it.

You think that’s bad, though?

I didn’t put another shirt over the sports bra.

That’s fucking right.  I’d forgotten to put my shirt over her bra.  I’d been in that goddamn gym just in Kiera’s shorts and top with my stomach showing, working my ass off like some fucking gym bunny.


You could see my titties again.  They’re bigger now.  Just a little but enough that you can see the bulge even with the sports bra.

Those bros weren’t being all friendly smiling.  They were fucking mocking me standing there like some fucking creepy… thing with my tits all hanging out.

I ran.  I barely even remember any of it.  Not the drive home or anything.  Aww fuck, I gotta cry again.

I can’t sleep.  My tits are hot.

They’re so smooth.  They skin around them.  They don’t look big – and they fit into my hands but they’re round and silky and it makes me shiver when I touch them and I can’t stop just stroking them.  And squeezing them a little.  Thumbing my nipples.

Are they bigger?  I’m having another weird body disconnect because I can’t tell if they’re bigger or my hands are smaller.

I’m so tired and just out of it.  I really need some sleep.

Wednesday, January 24th, 2018



FUCK FUCK FUCK I gotta throw up again. Shit.

My hands are shaking.  I just got off the phone with my insurance company.  Called into their doctor-over-the-phone thing.  Told him my girlfriend had been giving me her estrogen pills as a joke and asked if they could give me breasts and shit.  He laughed and told me not to worry about it and to just stop taking them.  I wanted to ask him about my dick but I couldn’t.  I couldn’t fucking do it so I just hung up.

Checked the Internet and  some of it makes sense.  Just some.  Like “breast-tissue growth” and more hair (I can feel it tickling my ears now – it’s so thick) and mood swings for all the damn crying but decrease in sex drive and acne and the rest of it?  I’m more fucking horny than I ever have been and my skin is flawless.

My dick is gone.  FUCKING GONE.

Okay.  No, not gone.  It’s shriveled.  Like a little weird stump of a thing, just the head barely sticking out of my whatever.  Hips.  Crotch.  I dunno.  It hurts to pee and the head is weird and sensitive.  The flare around it is gone and it’s all smooth.  Everything hurts down there but I’m still horny.  It’s distracting.  My nipples are throbbing for attention and my breasts ache.

My balls are still there, at least?  Kinda?  Hurts to touch them and they seem smaller.  Even they are scared since my ballsack is all shriveled up and hardened.

Called in sick to work today.  They didn’t know who I was at first and thought it was Kiera calling in for me.  I had to cough a few times and clear my throat and try again.  At least it sounded like I was sick.

What the fuck am I gonna do?  It’s gotta wear off soon, right?

I had to go to the store for food.  I wore two shirts and a sweater.  My pants are all weird.  Loose except digging into my sides.  I feel like I gotta pee all the time but then it hurts when I do and nothing comes out.

Bought a thicker, smaller sports bra.  My fucking face was red the whole time but I can’t ditch work forever.  This one will have to do the trick until the estrogen works its way out of my body.

The cashier called me “Miss”.

Wednesday, January 24th, 2018


Sleeping naked because I’m too hot.  And I like the way the sheets feel.  It’s weird sleeping on my side and stomach because of my tits.  It’s just unnatural.  I hate sleeping on my back so I tossed and turned.

Woke up to go pee and only a little dribbled out.  Still hurts.

The skin is loose down there.  Just slides around and I can pull at it.  Helps against the pain a little.  Feels really fucking weird, though.  Strange counterpoint with all the loose skin versus my shriveled sack.  The more I tug at my sack, the looser it feels but I’m having a hard time feeling the balls any more.

Fuck me.  It’s one in the fucking morning and I can’t stop touching my balls.

Huh.  The skin just slid a little.  From my sack.  Feels all hot down there.  Pulsing with my heartbeat.  Inflamed.

Melatonin’s kicking in.  Gonna-

Thursday, January 25th, 2018


Called in again but they told me I have to come in later in the afternoon for a big sales meeting.

I’m so tired, Diary.

Body just feels heavy and ache-y and my stomach hurts.

I can’t.  I fucking can’t.  I can’t say it.  I’m done.  I’m done writing.  I’m sorry, Diary.







I’ve got nowhere else to turn and nobody else to talk to, Diary.

I’m a fucking junkie.

In college, I screwed around with drugs a little.  No big fucking deal.  Tried some shit but was able to put all of it away.

I can’t stop touching myself.

My boss called to remind me about the meeting being mandatory and said I could sit in the back by myself if I still wasn’t feeling well.  He asked to speak to me twice before I convinced him it was me and not Kiera.  My voice keeps cracking.

Why didn’t I get a fucking haircut when I went out Wednesday?

I had to put my hair back into a little … thing.  I don’t fucking know what you call it.  A little tail looking thing.  There’s a million fucking hair ties in the apartment because of Kiera and I had enough hair to tie it back and away from my neck and ears.

Put on two shirts and a hoodie to hide my hair and shit.  Not company policy but I’m sick so whatever.

The new sports bra hurts but it works okay beneath everything else.

So I’m sitting in the back and it’s okay but I have to keep adjusting myself and moving.  My pants are tight against my ass and digging into my crotch so I have to keep pulling it out so it doesn’t hurt.

But then my fingers start feeling good down there.

I rubbed myself between the legs.  Could feel my balls moving.  Well, the sack.  It was softer now and felt really good to touch.  I just kept pressing and rubbing it and touching myself as quietly as possible while my boss droned on.  The skin was all weird and bubbled and swollen and hot and I was breathing fast.  Head down.  Some of my hair had come out of the tie and was tickling my neck.

And then something moved.  Down there.  It- it kinda hurt for a second.

My fingers slid inside of me (pushing my jeans inside, I mean) and I could feel a wet spot between my legs.

I fucking moaned right there in the meeting.

Froze.  Heard some things shuffle around and my boss asked if I was feeling alright.

God, I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

And between my legs.

I sat frozen, gripping my thigh while the wet spot spread.  Thank Christ I wore black pants.  I just shook my head.  Didn’t trust myself to speak.  My heart was going so fast, Diary.

I could smell myself with my head bowed.  I could feel the how slippery it was down there.  I tensed and felt muscles sliding wetly against each other and it was fucking alien and intoxicating at the same time.

I heard my boss sigh and say they were almost done so I could leave.  So I crab walked my way out of there.

And here I lay.  In bed.  Naked.  Feels soooo good to be out of that bra.  So much easier to breathe and to let my titties, shit, I don’t know how to say it but expand?  And least not be all squished.

No, Diary, I wasn’t skimming over anything.  I’m not ignoring it.  In fact, I’m staring right at it.

Right at the pussy between my legs.

The head of my dick is still there.  A little smaller.  Pointed down a little.  Or shifted down.  I can’t tell.  A thick fold of skin has grown up to cover part of it.

I like to touch it.  The head, I mean.  To run my slim fingers around it.  Makes me jump a little every time.  Squirm a little and breathe a little funny.

No.  I’m still not ignoring it.  I can’t.  I’m still so wet and it throbs.  I can’t ignore it.

There’s a little pink slit right under the head of my dick.  It looks like my sack split in half alongside it.  The slit.  My pussy.  The old skin has folded around it.  Folded into little pussy lips.

I looked it up: Labia Majora.

We have a little shaving mirror in the bathroom and I used that to see it.  Right between my legs.  My slit is small and it hurts a little to spread it open but it’s so pink inside.  Everything’s coated in clear liquid.  My liquid.  From inside of me.  I can feel some extra skin around the slit and I can’t stop running my fingers along it.  Makes me crinkle my toes and bite my lips.

It’s not stopping, is it, Diary?

When I was doing my Internet biology assignment, I looked up more stuff on hormonal treatments and things and this isn’t any of it.  None of it can take away my dick like that.  I’m not stupid, right?  Dr. Swolley’s number isn’t right and her office isn’t even there.  Wasn’t there.

I’m fucked.  I’m so fucked.

But like I said just a bit ago: I’m an addict.  I can’t stop touching myself.  Tasting myself.

I’m- I’m excited to put a finger inside.  I want to do it.

Saturday, January 27th, 2018


Dear Diary,

Guess who has a clit now? The head of my dick kept shrinking and shrinking until the skin (my hood!) covered it.

I can feel a few hairs growing down there around my pussy and my little inner lips have finished, too!  I think.  They’re so small and pink!

I lost some more weight.  And height.  My clothes don’t fit at all any more.  I measured myself and I’m a little taller than Kiera at 5′ 6″ but I was almost six feet tall before.  I’m surprised shrinking like that didn’t hurt more.

Her clothes fit me but there’s only a few things here.  Oh.  My hips are wider than hers apparently (!) so I definitely need to go shopping.

Gotta find a new job, too.  Gonna ride out the “sick” card for a few days at work and look around.

My tits are sore again.

I hope they get bigger.

Tuesday, January 30th, 2018


I got a job!!!

And that’s not even the best news.  But, yeah, job!  It’s just a small entry thing but it’s at that clothes (boutique!) store where Dr. Swalley’s office was.

I’m only stocking and running the register but I’ll get to learn what all the different clothes are called and how they work.

Tabitha (the owner) didn’t even have me fill out a job application or anything.  Which is good since, well, my pictures aren’t me any more.  I’m researching what I can do about that.  Fingers crossed I can say I went overseas for a sex change operation and get them to just update my info.

Haha, right!  The better news.

I got a diiiiildooooo.

This girl’s-


I think that’s the first time I automatically thought of myself as a girl.  That’s really weird.  Huh.  I gotta.  I gotta take a minute to think about this.  Makes me oddly emotional, you know?


Tuesday, February 20th, 2018


Dear Diary,

I’m so sorry I haven’t written in a while.  I guess I had a few days where I was fucked up thinking about everything that happened.  I’d been riding the waves of the whole change and got caught up in it.  Then I just got caught up in life.

I’m feeling waaaay better now.


Haha, for fuck’s sake, I’m blushing and I’m just talking to you.


His name’s Eric and I have a date tonight.

I kissed him.  I kissed Eric.  Holy shit, I kissed him.  Holy shit.

Wednesday, February 21st, 2018


I’m still giddy and I have to go to work soon.

It was such a great time.  And weird, too.  From seeing the other side of things.  People were nicer.  I got a lot of looks.  I could see it happen from the corner of my eyes and, once I noticed, I started paying more attention and, wow.  People stare.

But Eric!

He looked really good.  Dressed up and everything.  We ordered food and just talked.  I let him talk most because I haven’t figured out how to change my life’s story too much and get it straight in my head.  I just stuck to basics – school and parents and work.

Veeeery charming. He’s an accountant and shy. Sometimes he’d just stop talking and stare at me a little and then he’d blush and look at his food and it was fucking adorable.

At the end, he walked me to my car.

I held his hand and he jumped.  It felt really nice.  He’s taller than me and smelled really good.  When we got to the car, he thanked me and even stuttered!  And tried to leave all awkwardly.  So I kissed him.  It was too fast and weird and I had to stand on my toes (!!) but he put his arms around me for a second and I felt warm.

When I got home, I masturbated.  I thought of him and his arms around me.

I need to use the dildo more.

Just in case.

I’m just- I’m just really tight and I still don’t know if I’m doing things right or moving right.  Or any of it.  I – shit, gotta get to work!

He texted me back!  We have another date set for Friiiiiday.  He wanted to go out again but I invited him to my place.

I feel both sick and excited but a little more sick, I think.

In other more perverted news, I got a new suction cup dildo and it came in while I was at work.

So, I stuck it to the floor in the kitchen (after cleaning!) and- haha, I rode it.  Oh Christ, that position is just, uhh, fuck.  So good.  I just need to learn to move my hips better.

I came all over the floor and had to clean it up again.

Thursday, February 22nd, 2018


I’m going to cancel the date.  I can’t do it.  I’ve been sick to my stomach the whole time.

At the store, I grabbed a box of condoms and blushed the entire damn time.  I couldn’t look the cashier in the eyes.  And then I got home and I thought about what I was doing and oh Jesus I don’t think I can actually go through with it.

I’m so sorry, Eric.  Ugh.

Saturday, February 23rd, 2018


Tabitha talked to me Friday.  Noticed I was looking off and took me aside at lunch.  I cried on her shoulder and told her I really liked Eric and really wanted to be with him but I’m a virgin and-

She was so kind.  She listened and we talked and I told her I was afraid.  Of being hurt.  Because I know.  Because of who I was.  And how I acted.  I didn’t tell her any of that but I told her of my ex, “Tony”.  Who used to be abusive.  Oh god.  I’d told her I was a virgin but then that I was with someone and, uugh.  Never mind.

She listened and held my hand and I cried more.  I’m so sorry, Kiera.  I hope you were able to get past everything I’d done to you before.  To trust again.  And to find someone good.

Tabitha didn’t have any magic words for me.  She mostly let me talk.  And at the end, she just said that sometimes in life, we had to take chances or else nothing would change.  And we would be stuck in a rut, repeating our mistakes and behaviors over and over.  That the first step forward is always terrifying.  Everything was changing for me (more than she knew!) and it was okay to be afraid and to take my time but that it wasn’t Eric’s fault.

She said I shouldn’t be afraid to go slow with Eric but to be honest with him.  And careful.  And to take care of myself first but to be cautious with his feelings too.

It was wonderful.  I hugged her and even paid for her lunch.

I still had my date.  Yesterday.  I wore a skirt for the first time in my life.  I kept touching it and arranging it because it felt like I wasn’t wearing anything and I worried I was flashing people!

I changed it so we had dinner out instead.  He was very understanding.  Bonus points for him.

And then I took a step and invited him to my apartment to watch a movie with me after dinner.

And another step when I lay my head against his shoulder on my couch.  He held my hand and I could feel it shake a little.  I kissed him.  Slowly.  It was better this time.  And then I kissed him again and he turned and put his hands on my hips.  God, it felt so good.  I gasped when he kissed my neck.  Holy shit.  Holy crap.  So hot and sensitive and his stubble tickled in just the right way.

You won’t believe me but my hand accidentally touched his dick and he jumped.  I squeezed his junk and kissed him and his hands gripped even tighter.  All my grand plans to sit on his lap just melted.  I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I wanted him so fucking bad but I couldn’t take the next step.

So, he did.  He gently laid me down, reached for his shirt and then stopped to ask me if I was okay.  I just nodded.  I couldn’t even talk.  He has a little belly but it’s cute and I forgot all about it when he helped me take my top off.

We kissed some more and he played with my nipples and, ahhh.  Diary.  It was incredible.  He was awkward and anxious and nervous but careful and he kept checking if I was okay until I wanted to just tell him to fuck me already!

I remember grabbing his head and back when he started grinding on me.  I could feel his hardness against my soaked panties and he just kept rubbing against my clit over and over until my hips just moved and bucked and worked against him.  Some kinda magic, I think.

The words are lost to me.  I don’t remember what I said exactly but he pulled my panties off slowly and then I lay there, head and chest pounding.  Time froze and I watched him take his pants off.  He’s a really nice size, Diary.  Not too big or anything and it curves a little!

The magic broke when he asked where the condoms were.  Jesus Christ, I’d almost forgotten them.  Took a second but I pointed them out and he grabbed the box.

I was forgetting everything.  All of my master plans of seduction.  I’d worked them out in my head every night (and sometimes during the day) when I masturbated.  Rubbing my clit and pinching my nipples and imagining myself sucking his dick or riding him or telling him to lick me or anything – all just vwoooop, out of my head as I lay there, burning and aching for him.  Just frozen.

He asked if I was sure and I bit my lip and nodded and (I remember this time) begged him to go slow.

It hurt even with all the times I used the dildo.  But, I was so wet.  So incredibly wet.  Mind blowing, Diary.  I thought dildos were incredible but the feeling of a man inside of me, his dick moving and rubbing, his mouth and teeth on my neck and ears (oh god, my ears) and then kissing me and then sucking my nipples on my little breasts (they never did grow that much bigger) and, oh fuck, TALKING to me.

I can’t even remember what he said but just thinking about it makes me wet.

I do remember calling him “baby” and it felt natural.  I never use words like that but it just rolled off the tongue.  Oh!  I do remember he told me how tight I was.  Because he had to keep stopping, damn him.  Said it’d been a long time for him and he was “out of practice”.

After a while, I couldn’t take it anymore so I grabbed his ass and pushed him into me and worked my hips.  I wasn’t very good at it and he kept trying to stop but I clung to him and told him not to stop, just keep going, oh fuck, just keep going.

I felt him cum inside of me and I moaned.  I can’t not make sounds, gasping when he’s thrusting and moaning when he’s biting my nipples and, I held him tight, deep inside of me and I could feel him pulsing.  I was way too nervous to orgasm but, Jesus Christ, that was the most amazing sex I’ve ever had.  So far.

He tried to move and I begged him to stay inside of me just a little longer.  Until I felt him get more and more soft and he slipped out.  I lay there while he cleaned up and threw away the condom and then told him to come back.  We were both sweaty and his chest hairs tickled me but I held him and fell asleep in his arms.

We had so much more sex, Diary.  And I scratched him really fucking hard when I finally came.

Thursday, July 12th, 2018


I’m so sorry, I’ve been really busy, Diary.  Today is moving day!  Eric and I got a bigger apartment together.  I’ll write more when I can.  I’m so sorry.

Friday, June 7th, 2019


I said yes and it is the happiest day of my life.

Tuesday, October 22nd, 2019


I heard its heartbeat for the first time today and I cried and cried and cried.  Eric held my hand the entire time, his forehead on mine.

I’m so scared.  We talked about it for such a long time and I can’t even explain it.  It’s not something I ever thought I wanted.  My own parents, well, my father was abusive and my mother was doped up almost all the time in order to deal with him.

I’ve been going to therapy a little after Eric and I started dating (god, that feels like forever ago) and talk of having kids has been the topic of conversation for months and months and months.  I had such a shitty life growing up.  I was a terrible man (btw, Kiera is married too now!) and have done things in my life that I’ll regret forever.

This is my chance to try again and pass on some of the tremendous love I’ve found in my life.  I need to balance the scales a little.

I’m terrified and yet so hopeful at this new life within me.

This is the last time I write.  When the little one is born, I’ve asked my husband (ahh, some day I’ll get tired of saying it, I suppose.  maybe.) to bury a locked box and plant a seed above it.  I thought about burning you but I can’t.  Instead, you’ll be there beneath my son or daughter’s tree as it grows.

I’m grateful for this second chance.

Mrs. Hannah Wilkeson née Miller


Leave a Reply