#venetianwrites

...decided that you should be growing your tits, actually, so she began slipping you progesterone while you slept. She took care to replicate the label on your testosterone vials 1:1, before slapping them onto estrogen vials instead.

You began to notice the effects of being estrogen-dominant once again, but since you've been on T for over 4 years, you've forgotten what an estrogen baseline feels like. You simply assumed that you've been tired; that you've been moody; that you've been...unusually horny?

Oh yeah, and your tits have begun to feel tender and oh so sensitive. You can even swear that your binder is a bit harder to pull over your chest now.

Six whole months pass - a blurry twilight full of tenderness, increasingly-tight binders, mood swings you've lost the metric for, and nights where you are all but begging for your girlfriend to help you relieve your newfound, seemingly-alien sex drive.

As fun as this has been for her, she eventually got tired of how long this was taking. She began to root through her condom stash, and to poke tiny little holes in them. You have always trusted her, and she has never done you wrong, so why would you ever bother to check on this? She also made sure to replace your birth control with the placebos, so there was no way you would not fall pregnant by the end of her exercise.

She was going to have you grow giant tits, one way or another. Tits that were impossible to contain inside of a binder, or to even hide underneath a hoodie. In the back of her mind, she would always think:

"I want to make him her my girlfriend, by any means necessary. I want people to think we're girlfriends. I want it to be impossible for people to think he's she's anything BUT my girlfriend."

As you and her made love that first night, after poking holes in her condoms, she seemed to be a lot more assertive than usual. As if she had gained some new energy, as she pounded into your wet, sloppy, burning cunt with increasing force. As she finished into the condom, and latched onto your nipple to bring you to your own completion. That night, you could swear that you saw stars behind your eyes...

It only took her a few weeks to get the exact results that she wanted. Three months in, as you were recovering from yet another bout of morning nausea, you glanced down at your belly. Things didn't look quite the same as they used to, and you have been noticing your breasts feeling even more tender as of late...

You wrote off the possibility of pregnancy pretty quickly. You've been on birth control for 3 years, you haven't had a period in 4 years, you've been consistent with your T dose for about as long, and your girlfriend has used a condom every time you two have had sex. Which, come to think of it, has been a lot in the past year or so...

The chances of accidental pregnancy between you two are incredibly miniscule, but you still bit your lip as you seriously considered the possibility.

As you tried to put together the pieces, your thoughts were cut short by a phone call. As if in a dream, you moved to answer it.

"Hello, I'm calling from the Stator Clinic, about a surgical referral. Am I speaking to..."

Well, shit.

If you really, truly were pregnant, through some fucked-up astronomical odds, then you wouldn't be able to get top surgery. Something you've been waiting for, for almost five years.

You looked up, and saw your girlfriend standing in the doorway. As your eyes met hers, you could swear that she was wearing amusement on her face - just for the slightest moment, before blinking it away. Only confused concern lived there now. Or were you just imagining the twinkle in her eyes? After all, she's always had your best interests at heart.

"You": trans man who starts being neutral/slightly-negative on his own genitals; exclusive top (ends up slowly detransitioning into a butch lesbian by the end, who is okay with her genitals. Still mainly top.)

Trans woman who discovers her attraction towards women, and accepts her boyfriend's offer to treat him as a lesbian during sex. (Almost exclusively bottom.)

"Clit" is used for both parties.

---

You're a bisexual trans man who has a trans girlfriend. She's always been happier when she bottoms for you, and you've always been happy to oblige. She's shown you how to best treat her clit and her hole, and from your past experiences with women, you've even shown her some new ways to help her get off. She's always been happy with how you pleasure her...

However, there's one thing that saddens her: she only recently discovered her bisexuality, after meeting you. Because of that, and because you're both mono, she's never been with another girl. It's something that's come up, wistfully and longingly, several times over the past few months. One day, after giving it some serious thought, you hesitatingly ask her:

"What if...I went back to being a girl? Only in the bedroom, but...yeah. It wouldn't be my first time as a girl with a girl. I could, uh, show you what to do? I figured you'd like to have some way to explore that, and we don't wanna see other people, so..."

Her eyes light up, even as she hesitates a little bit. "Okay, we can try it, but just remember, you can stop at any time, and we never have to do it again if you don't want."

You start to, occasionally, take on the role of a butch woman in the bedroom. Like you had told her: it wouldn't be your first time, and it felt okay enough to slip back into your past experiences. You had continued treating her as normal - fingering her hole open, teasing her clit with her favourite vibrator, but you'd also begun involving your own genitals. Something you've never done with her - or anyone - before. You'd only given your partners their own pleasure, before slinking away to finish yourself off as quickly as possible. Not that you hated your genitals, but...you just weren't sure about them, is all.

But you wanted to give her as full of an experience as you possibly could.

You had put aside your own discomfort, and you began to show her how to do certain things. How to rub your clit. How to finger your bonus hole. How to find just the right spot inside you, in order to make you come apart in her hands...

And, by the gods, was she getting good at it.

You figured you could help her get more into the fantasy, so you had asked her to refer to you and your parts with more feminine terms. Your bonus hole became your pussy. You had begun wearing slightly different, more stereotypically-butch things. A binder that stayed on at all times became a sports bra, which you had become comfortable removing to show off your chest breasts for her. (You would even end up asking her to play with them...) Styling your hair ever so slightly differently. A high taper fade became a pixie-ish undercut. All the while, you had continued to encourage her on her journey of discovery.

After a while, your own genital discomfort stopped mattering to you. You still preferred to be dominant with her - and she still preferred to be submissive - but you had stopped putting your own pleasure on the backburner. Making her feel good morphed into feeling good with her.

Over time, your butch feminine persona began to spill over into your everyday life. Not once did you feel coerced into this - you did it because you could clearly see that she was happy like this. You begin caring less about being seen as a man, necessarily. Dysphoria you once had around your body began to melt away, even outside the bedroom. And, though you haven't quite figured out how to tell her: the more time you spent like this, as a butch woman, her woman...the more you found that you genuinely liked it.

One night, your name came out of her mouth, as barely a whisper. You've taught her how to eat you out a while ago, and ever since then, she's been finding it to be one of her favourite things to do with you. She looks up at you, with her eyes glazed over in lust, and her voice shaking in nervousness:

"Can I...call you a different name? It-I don't mean your deadname. Just...I wonder what it's like. To say a girl's name. I'm sorry if this is too much, you don't have to-"

You smile, your hand smoothing through her hair to reassure her. It's something you've been thinking about ever since the very first time.

...and they stop when you stir. They know you're half-awake, but this only continues if you go back to sleep. If you lie there, and let yourself be used like a good girl.