My Earliest TG Fantasies

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So why am I so into transgender literature? Why does it fascinate me? I remember the exact day that it started. It was 1988. I was a thirteen-year-old eighth grader. Those were rough times. I was not an athlete, not strong, not cool, and desperate to fit in. In the eighties, bullying was kind of a joke, a punch line. Boys were expected to not only enjoy sports, but to excel at them. We were expected to be tough and be cool. We were expected to fight.

I did not enjoy sports. I was bad at them, and would rather read a book. I was not socially adept. Today, the words ‘nerd’ and ‘geek’ are kind of badges or honor, but at the time, they burned. Gym class was hellish, and of course we had it every day. The other boys would realize how bad I was at sports, how awkward, and want to fight. It was a vicious cycle. I’d come home covered in blood and spit (they spat on me) and wish my life could be different.

I would notice the girls on the other side of the PE class, girls who were not expected to excel at sports, to fight, to be tough and macho, and become jealous. Why was I condemned to this hell and they were given a pass?
There was also something else I noticed about them. Their bodies. Their looks. In the midst of raging puberty, the desire to physically interact with a girl was a constant, overwhelming ache. And yet to my nerdy self, the idea that someday a woman would actually let me look at her body, let alone touch her, seemed unreachable.

One night, while looking through my collection of old tabloid newspapers, I came across some absurd article about a transsexual woman. And then it hit me: If I were a girl, I’d have none of these problems. I’d not be forced to participate in sports. I wouldn’t have to fight. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be tough. I could just be myself, and never suffer for it. On top of that, I’d have access to a woman’s body. It would be my own, but I’d have my own set of boobies to caress and play with. It seemed like a win-win situation! Not only that, it was possible! With hormones (especially at my age) and surgery, there was no reason I couldn’t become the girl of my dreams.

The problem was there was no way I could go to my family and say ‘I think I identify as a girl. Would you help me socially transition for a while, in case I’d like to physically transition?’ No way in hell. I could never do it.

But what if the stars were exactly right? What if, through some incredible twist of fortune, I was forced to live as a girl? That everything just suddenly fell into place and I found myself turned into a female through no effort or action of my own?

My fantasies almost never involved magical transformation or super science. Just crossdressing, hormones, and a lot of dumb luck. I find this to be a common theme in TG literature. There’s often some sort of unwillingness in these stories: being forced, losing a bet, having to fill in for someone else.

My teenage fantasies generally involved one of three themes. I’d picture myself living somewhere else, with another family (I didn’t like to bring my own parents and sister into these worlds) and one of three scenarios playing out:

#1: MEDICAL NECESSITY

I’m diagnosed with a rare condition that requires massive doses of estrogen, which will rapidly and permanently feminize my body. Or I’m in the hospital and my chart is confused with someone there for a sex change and breast implants. Or I’m in an accident and they have to reconstruct me as a female. The doctors tell my parents that it would be psychologically devastating for me to have to try to live as a boy now that I’m physically a woman, and they recommend me starting over in another district as the new girl. In just a matter of months, I have a new school, a new name, and a new gender.

Sometimes I’d imagine that I stay at my own school, with my classmates rallying around my unfortunately situation and doing everything they can to help me fit in to my new role.

#2: STANDING IN FOR SOMEONE

*I think my favorite fantasy in this genre was that my (imaginary) older sister was getting married. She gets cold feet just before the ceremony and decides to run away. Rather than admit it, she plans to have me stand in for her while she makes her escape, figuring I wouldn’t stand for it very long. She tricks me into donning her dress, and doing my hair and makeup, making a semi-plausible excuse as to why and promising she’ll be back soon. She never returns. Terrified I’m going to screw things up for her, I go through the ceremony, the first kiss, the reception, the first dance, and leave on the honeymoon with my new husband. My sister suddenly receives word that the wedding went beautifully and realizes that I’m now on a honeymoon cruise, still pretending to be her. I’m carried across the threshold, still praying for my sister to relieve me. I never usually went further than that in the fantasy (I never fantasized about men, though I did like the idea of being with a man as a woman), though I assume I was permanently stuck as a wife.

*There was also the idea that the school play desperately needed someone to fill a woman’s role, and I was tagged to do it. Due to the intense rehearsal schedule, I find it hard to shift from my role back to real life, and end up staying in character longer and longer. I start wearing dresses. The PE coach insists I join the girls’ class. When I get upset, friends who’ve known me for years say ‘It’s that time of the month.’ I spend an evening alone with a male athlete and then have a pregnancy scare. I do wonderful in the show, but I never stop playing that role, ever.

*I have a model girlfriend who keeps a rigorous schedule. She notices that we resemble each other in many ways and convinces me to dress up as her one night. The effect is so flawless that she has me start going to shows as her, and before too long I’m pretty much living her life.

#3 BEING FORCED OR TRICKED

*The music video ‘Simply Irresistible’ featured several women dancers with pale skin, black hair, who dressed and acted alike and were pretty much indistinguishable. One night I sneak into their dressing room and I’m caught. As a punishment, they turn me into one of them.
*I’m stranded by a flood in a remote cabin with two women who pass the time by giving me a makeover. By the time we’re rescued, there are three women, and I’m the one flirting with the hunky Coast Guard guys, much to the chagrin of the other girls.

*I come from a wealthy family and it would be advantageous for one of my sisters to marry the heir to another powerful family. None of girls are interested, so the young man proposes to me (this was long before same-sex marriage was a thing). They simply turn me into a woman so I can serve him as a wife.

*One of my earliest fantasies was having a mother who always wanted a daughter, so she secretly fed me estrogen to prevent male puberty. My voice never changes, my beard never comes in. When I find out what she’s done, she decides to make me into a full girl and I sit there in stunned silence as she and her friends give me a makeover, as hormones slowly cause me to go through female puberty. I almost got the courage to write this one down as a teenager, but I chickened out.

*As I grew older, that fantasy developed into having a girlfriend or wife who realizes she was a lesbian, but doesn’t want to lose me. She feeds me estrogen which feminizes me, but she keeps denying anything is wrong. One night when she’s gone I take a look in the mirror and realize what’s happen to me. I get all dolled up in her clothes and meet her at the door. ‘Is there something you’d like to tell me?’

*My girlfriend is going to an all girls college, and she convinces me to go with her, posing as her female roommate. Things progress with electrolysis, hormones, and breast implants. In the end, I’m either transformed into another college coed, or we get married in a two bride wedding.

*I once saw a very attractive, but very flat-chested woman in a bikini top. This led to me fantasizing about having a somewhat masculine looking wife whose chest was incredibly flat and whose nipples were hardly bigger than mine. We move to a new town, and while she’s working in the yard alone, she removes her shirt. She’s surprised by the neighbors, who take her for the husband. Rather than confess that she’s a topless woman, she goes with it, forcing me to play the wife. We won’t be living there long, so we make a game of it, with me reassuring her that ‘I love you like a man loves a woman.’ But we end up making a life there and grow to love our new roles. It ends with me telling her ‘I love you, as a woman loves a man.’

None of these stories ever came close to coming true, and as I grew older, I realized they never would. But there was an innocence about them that I’ll always treasure, and they’ve certainly influenced my writing.

Czolgolz
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