I lay back in bed…exhausted. So far, the honeymoon has been really nice. My bride and I got married two days ago…at a very young age. I am not even of legal age to get married without consent—Briana, or Bri, my bride, is just barely nineteen. Actually, I am just sixteen. Our parents were not thrilled, to say the least, when they found out we were sexually active. As it were, I had hit puberty late—like just a couple of weeks ago. It just so happened that I met Bri about the same time at Hooters… My Dad had taken me there, without Mom knowing, for my sixteenth birthday to celebrate the wet dream I had just had the night before—and Bri was our waitress. We just…clicked.

My parents, old-fashioned as they are, threatened to bring Bri up on statutory rape charges if we did not get married. Surprisingly, her parents agreed… Affidavit in hand, we got married in Vegas, just a two-hour drive away, a few days later. As is turned out, we were the ten thousandth couple to get married at that chapel this year—and we won a free ‘romantic’ honeymoon on a small island in the Caribbean…

Bri looks at me…breathing heavily…sweating slightly in the heat of the island. She smiles and says, “Jeremy, that was wonderful! But these condoms are just not doing it for me…you don’t really like it either, do you? I mean, we are married now…we shouldn’t have to use those nasty things.” I shake my head as I get up to rid myself of the little ‘necessity’. I say as I throw it away, “No, they are a pain…a real bother… Does that mean that you are rethinking taking the pill?” She laughs and says, “No. I don’t think so…I don’t want to be burdened with having to take a stupid pill every day for the rest of my life… But tell me, would it bother you if you had…breasts?”

I do a double-take and ask, “Say what? Where did that come from?” She giggles and says, “Well you like mine…maybe it would be fun if you had some… And…you really DO need to get rid of your body hair, minimal as it is…it is sort of gross…I really love a smooth body. Anyway, I was talking to a girl here on the island and she was telling me of a method of male contraception… There is a specialist here on the island that we can visit that can hook us up. It seems that one of the side-effects of the…treatment…is growing potential man-boobs… It wouldn’t bother me—really…”

I look at her like she has grown some extra boobs herself… When I finally get my voice back, I say, “Ummm…but, I mean…wouldn’t it be better for you…I mean…it is more normal…” I fall silent. The look she is giving me is enough to shut me up and then to just say, “I suppose it can’t hurt to go visit her…”

Briana pulls me along by the hand… I am still in a bit of pain from the full body waxing that has left me silky-smooth. According to Bri, the deal we both got on the waxing was a steal… And to my surprise, there were actually a lot of guys getting waxed—so I didn’t feel too bad about doing it… Anyway, we enter the small clinic in the middle of the island and Briana walks boldly up to the receptionist and signs us in. I expect some sort of witch doctor or sorceress to enter the room we are waiting in. To my surprise, it looks like a regular doctor. She smiles and Briana says, “Doctor Z., I am Briana and this is my husband, Jeremy. Heather Fern said you maybe could help us?”

Doctor Z., short for Zorunsky, smiles and says, “Let me guess, Heather told you I could hook you up with a male contraceptive?” Briana nods enthusiastically and says, “Exactly! Is it really true? You have one? One that works and is safe?” Doctor Z. smiles and says, “Well, yes, I do. It is, for all intents and purposes, one hundred percent effective after about thirty days. Like any medicine, there are side effects—but it is overall pretty safe. But, prolonged use can have some pretty drastic side effects. Did Heather tell you about those?” Bri nods her head and says, “Yes, yes—we know all about those… We are OK with them, right, Jeremy?”

By now, she has worn me down and I just nod. Dr. Z. looks at me and asks, “So, you are OK with maybe having breasts? It is a real possibility. There is also a real possibility of ED or even sterility with prolonged use—although, I have an option for that….” I feel myself getting a bit pale as Bri says, “Oh…that is OK…we really don’t want kids anyway…at least not for quite some time…” Dr. Z. looks at me for confirmation…I just nod…feeling a bit numb…

Dr. Z. hands me a sheath of papers and says, “Read through these. If you agree with everything, we can get started. There are far fewer restrictions on the use of certain medications on this island than in your country—that is, I will be using common meds for a purpose not allowed where you are from. I just need your consent…and, by the way, the fact that you are not eighteen is not an issue here—as long as your wife, who is legally an adult, co-signs the papers… I will just give the two of you a moment to consult…”

Bri doesn’t even look at the papers; she just pushes me to sign them—then co-signs them, herself. A few minutes later Dr. Z. comes back in and sees the signatures. She nods her head and says, “Well, OK then. There are a couple of options. You can take daily pills, weekly shots, or monthly shots—or there is an annual, bi-annual, or even a five-year option. Since you are not a resident of the island and my prescription would not work at your home that really rules out the first options. You would not be allowed to take enough pills home with you to last more than about six months… So, that leaves the longer-term options. Which would you like? One, two, or five years?”

Before I can say anything, Bri pops out, “Well, like we said, we don’t want kids any time soon…if ever…so, why don’t we go with the five-year option. I actually would prefer it be longer…” Dr. Z. looks at me and I just lamely nod. She says, “Well, the five year option may very well be longer in that there is a very real likelihood of sterility. As part of that package, I freeze some of the patient’s sperm and keep it for those five years. If after that time, there are lasting effects, the sperm is available… You would need to come see me at that time, though. I don’t charge for the banking of the sperm, unless it is needed…then there is a nominal charge…”

Bri pipes up and says, “That sounds wonderful, Doc. Sign us up!” Dr. Z. looks at me and I just nod…it is all happening so fast…

An hour later, several more forms signed, I hand over the cup with my sperm in it. Dr. Z. looks at the results of the blood tests her nurse had run on me and then has me take off my pants, lay down on an exam table, and spread my legs. I see her get out this lethal-looking injection gun with a huge caliber needle. She swabs the inside of each thigh and it goes numb…then she sticks the needle into my left thigh and pulls the trigger; she reloads and repeats on the right. Despite the numbness, it hurts. She smiles and has me bend over. She gives me a shot in the butt and says, “OK, you are set. Make sure that you use alternative contraceptive measures for the next thirty days—preferably a condom. Also, you may find that your libido temporarily goes down—it will return, likely heightened; although, like I said, you may suffer long-term from ED. I will give you some pills to counter that. The shot in your rear is to counter the initial nausea that some experience. Like was outlined in the papers you signed, and I am sure you read them, right, this treatment is irreversible for the next five years… Good luck in your marriage and please don’t come to me with complaints on the side effects. They were clearly explained in the release you signed… Please come back in five years and we will evaluate your options at that point.”

And she is gone… The nurse hands me a bottle of pills for ED and we are ushered out the door. Bri hugs me and says, “Well, that was easy. We should celebrate!” We go back to the hotel and she pulls out a fresh pack of condoms. I am sore, but I don’t want to disappoint her…

We finish out the honeymoon and return home when our week is up. Bri goes back to work as a waitress at Hooters and I go back to school. Bri barely makes enough to make ends meet, but my after-school job as a bagger at the grocery store, along with the discount, helps…

And so, the next six months go by without much excitement. I find that I do have to use the bottle of pills—after I get over a…hump—but that our sex is so much better without the condoms that I am left believing that Bri had it right.

Then, I start getting the pain in my breasts… My nipples start growing…along with my breasts. After a further six months (about a year after our honeymoon), I have to start wearing a bra—I am an A-cup. I have nipples the size of large pencil erasers and areolae about an inch and a half across. My nipples are easily as sensitive as Bri’s…I have near constant ‘headlights’. Bri gets huge kicks out of teasing them…

But my breasts are not the only thing…my clothes are not fitting right… Actually, Bri’s clothes fit me much better… It is just that my pants won’t button right…even if I can get them up over my hips. My waist is just so much narrower than my hips… And my skin and hair…it is so soft… I never get to the point of shaving, really. When Bri had me waxed the first time, I really didn’t know what she was going on about. I had just barely hit puberty and it was just basically heavy peach fuzz… My face never went beyond that…and now…it looks…girly. I have long, thick eyelashes. My nose is small and turned up a bit—you could say it is a button-nose. My lips are full… An Adam’s apple? Nowhere to be seen… And my voice never changed… even though I am seventeen now… Bottom line? I look and sound more like a girl than a guy…and people routinely refer to me as ‘Miss’—especially, with the boobs now…

It is our second anniversary. Surprisingly, Bri and I are still very much in love. I know that young marriages usually do not go well, but we are fine. I am now up to a C-cup. I am also really, well, horny. I can’t seem to get my little guy up without extensive help, though…and I DO mean little… He has shrunken quite a bit…and my…balls…well, they are much smaller, too… There really doesn’t seem to be much masculinity left of me… On the plus side, Bri is in line to become a manager at Hooters…

It is now our third anniversary. Bri and I are still very happy. I have graduated…and have started as a server at Hooters. I have not only graduated from school, but to a D+-cup… I am larger than Bri… I look so much like a girl now that it was easy to get a job at Hooters…it just took dressing up like a girl… Bri got my ears pierced several times in each ear. She took me and had my eyebrows shaped and evaluated for the right kind of makeup. She has convinced me to let my hair grow out and it is now cut like a girl’s… I gave up trying to wear guy’s clothes a year ago… I am at a different Hooters in town than Bri is at—she is a manager now and of course I can’t be at the same location… I go by the name of Bambi at Hooters…long story—don’t ask… I am killer in the Hooters uniform, though!

It is our fourth anniversary. Bri and I couldn’t be happier. Most everyone, our parents included, think of us as a lesbian couple. Our parents consider me a transgendered ‘girl’—even though I have not pursued anything of the kind… Truth be told, there is little to nothing of the ‘male’ me left. At least they are ‘supportive.’ I have no idea why, but the simple side effect of ‘man-boobs’ has turned into my full-blown feminization. I am now twenty and could be a runway super-model… Bri and I have become more…creative…in our love-making. It really is more like two lesbians now…

It is just two weeks until our fifth anniversary. For all intents and purposes, I am Bambi…there is basically nothing of Jeremy left…save a small dangle of flesh between my legs. Bri has been promoted to a corporate position. My store was actually the site of an ‘Undercover Boss’ visit. I was one of the ones that the ‘boss’ was paired up with… It seems that I really impressed the boss with my story of my ‘transition’… I am going to be the proud owner of my own franchise!

Bri has booked a two-week vacation on the same isle that we did our honeymoon on. It is for our fifth anniversary. We pack up, four brimming suitcases for two women, and soon arrive at the little airport a few islands over. A long boat ride later, we are in our little beachside cabin. The next day, we are back at Dr. Z.’s clinic…

Dr. Z. comes in…and smiles. She doesn’t look a day older than I remember her from five years earlier. Bri, too, looks much the same…just more mature. Me, on the other hand, well, I look nothing like I did five years ago. I am drop-dead gorgeous… And I am much more determined—looking for some answers… I am no longer the shy sixteen year-old I was back then…

I look at Dr. Z. and ask, “Hello, Doc. The good news is that your contraceptive worked just fine… The…strange…news is…I look better than Cindy Crawford… Why?” Dr. Z. laughs and says, “Do you remember? I told you when we last departed to not complain about the side effects…it was all laid out in the release.” I say, “Yes, I read that… It didn’t really say anything useful…just that there could be sterility issues as the main side effect. We already knew that… There was nothing about full-on feminization…”

Dr. Z. laughs again and looks at Bri. She asks, “Heather told you about me, right?” Bri nods. Dr. Z. continues, “So, did she also tell you that her real name was Hector…that she had just completed a five-year course of the treatment…?” Bri pales and shakes her head… Dr. Z. goes on, “How do you think this works? The most effective male contraceptive is a hormone blocker combined with female hormones. Of course, this is not a condoned ‘treatment’ in other countries, because of the usual ‘side’ effects, but it is very effective…which is all I promised.”

She pauses for effect…and then continues, “I did cover you. I have your semen frozen…if you are ready for kids now, we can take care of that while you are here… Bri?” She pauses again, then goes on, “As for you, Jeremy…or I guess it is Bambi, now? I can take care of that little problem between your legs. As you no doubt now know, it will never work again… Even if I dosed you with huge amounts of testosterone, you would never get it to…work… And you will never look like a guy…only like a woman that transitioned to a guy—thanks to starting this so early in your puberty. You are Bambi… You might as well complete the transition that Bri so unwittingly started you on five years ago… You both are happy, right, hmmm?”

Four days later, I lay in a bed at the clinic. I am in pain, but off of pain meds for the occasion. It is our fifth anniversary…and just three days after my twenty-first birthday. Yes, I had my SRS on my twenty-first birthday…and I am having my first real alcoholic drink as an adult…and as a woman—courtesy of Dr. Z. Bri toasts me with plain orange juice and says that she can’t drink alcohol for the next nine months plus nursing… We both hug and…cry…

In case you are wondering, Bri and I are still living happily ever after… Come visit us at one of our thirteen Hooters franchises… Just ask for Bambi—I would be happy to buy you your first drink. Make sure to say hi to Bri and our two daughters. Cheers!