My heart is racing and my palms are clammy. My mouth is bone dry from not having eaten in 24 hours and I'm shaking like a leaf.

"Okay Miss Burke," the doctor says as he injects a syringe into my IV drip. "I want you to count backwards from ten. Can you do that, please?"

"Ten," I whisper hoarsely. "Nine, e-eight, um, seven..." My head starts to spin as I find it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.

"Six, um, six?" I ask as my brain fogs over and my entire body feels like it's made out of lead.

"Five," I slur incoherently after several seconds of concentration. I don't recall whether or not I actually said 'four', but either way, the next thing I'm aware of is darkness, and the beeping of my heart monitor. I open my eyes slowly, grimacing at the sight of the bright light hitting my eyes. The IV drip in my hand stings, my legs are up in stirrups, my head still feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool, and my groin is in a LOT of pain. However, there's only one thing that I'm concerned about.

"He-hello?" I call weakly, smiling as I'm greeted by the sight of my mother's face looking down on me.

"Jamie, thank god you're awake," mum- who's clearly been crying- says to me.

"Was-was..." I incoherently ask.

"The surgery was a complete success," mum says with tears flowing from her eyes. "You truly are our little girl now!" I smile weakly and settle my head back down on my pillow. I'm dazed, confused, and in a lot of pain, but in the long run, it'll be worth it. After three long years on this journey, I can finally say that I am the proud owner of a vagina.

Mum sticks around for the rest of the day, and is later joined by dad, who expresses his pride in me- even though the painkillers flowing through my system mean I barely hear a word he says!

Over the course of the next few days, I have at least one friend with me at all times throughout my recovery. Mum stays with me as much as she can, as does dad (work permitting). All of the Angels drop by more than once, as does Dr. Phillips, and my bedside is inundated with flowers and boxes of chocolate that I'm not going to feel up to eating for ages! After three days, my IV is removed, as is my catheter and my blood drain. Both of those experiences were particularly unpleasant- I'd been warned beforehand that my new lady parts would hurt a LOT at first, but a part of me had been unprepared for just how much. But, as with all pain, it subsided. Peeing through my vagina for the first time was an experience that truly made my eyes go wide- but even though the 'entrance' was still sore, after the first few times it became almost natural.

A few days later, the dressing around my vagina was removed, as was the stent that had been placed inside, allowing me to see it for the first time- and it was NOT pretty. Obviously, I'm aware of how a vagina SHOULD look, and whilst mine certainly seemed to have the right shape- I was operated on by the best SRS surgeon in Europe, after all- it was bruised, swollen and discoloured. I will admit I did shed a few tears when I looked at it in the mirror, but fortunately my recovery nurse- who will forever be on my Christmas card list, so amazing was the care she provided for me- was able to calm me down and logically talk me through the next steps of my recovery. The following day, I began my dilation regime for the first time.

Even though it's well lubricated and sterilised, the sensation of pushing something into my vagina was something that I had a near panic attack about during the first time. Fortunately, my nurse was able to guide me through it every step of the way, but it was still highly uncomfortable to begin with- especially as I have to do it AT LEAST four times a day for fifteen minutes each time. Over time, the frequency of the dilating will fall, as will the frequency of the vaginal douches I have to give myself- which is currently twice a day, in addition to twice-daily sitz baths.

Finally, on Tuesday the 15th of April, nine long days after my surgery, I arrived home from hospital to a huge ovation. Literally everyone in my life was there to welcome me back- as well as my parents, all the Angels were present, as were their boyfriends (those of them who had boyfriends), Stuart and both of his sisters were there, Joshua & his family were there, as were a small camera crew.

"Oh my god, you guys," I say, crying openly at the scene. Banners were hung from the windows of my house and balloons were tied to the front door and the fence and there streamers everywhere- decorations that were all, of course, in a baby pink colour. After shakily walking to my front door with Charlotte & Stuart's help (I hadn't wanted to be in a wheelchair or carried by my father), I'm helped upstairs to my bedroom where I wearily collapse on my bed, thankful to finally be home.

"Anything you need, just shout," mum says, dropping my hospital bag.

"Thanks, thank you so much," I say, smoothing my knee-length blue dress underneath me as I attempt to get comfortable.

"You've really done it," Charlotte says with pride in her voice. "I love you so much, Jamie! You're so awesome!" My BFF gives me a gentle hug, taking care not to squish anything she shouldn't squish!

"You really are," Stuart concurs. "You're my hero! I wish I had the courage to, you know, grow a pair." Charlotte and I giggle at Stuart's joke, despite my mild headache.

"I've already told Keith I'll be spending a lot of time around here, at least until you get back on your feet," Charlotte explains.

"That's really not necessary," I say, lighting squeezing Charlotte's hand.

"You can't expect your mum to do EVERYTHING for you," Stuart jokes. "I'll also be around when I can. Though I should warn you, Charlotte and the other Angels- well, except Mary, obviously- MIGHT be wearing the nurse costumes you wore to my birthday party last month..."

"Ruin the surprise, why don't you?" Charlotte chastises my favourite transman as I giggle.

"Honestly," I say firmly. "I want to get back on my feet as soon as possible. Can't do that if I'm waited on hand and foot now, can I?"

"Aww," Charlotte says, giving me another hug. "Stuart's right, you ARE a hero!"

"HeroINE," I correct my BFF, bringing on a very welcome giggling fit!

"We've both got the rest of the day off," Stuart tells me. "Anything you need right now, anything at all, just tell me."

"Well, I do need..." I begin.

"Name it," Charlotte says expectantly.

"...Some privacy while I dilate," I grimace, making both Charlotte and Stuart look slightly uncomfortable.

"Okay," Charlotte says, nodding and leading Stuart out of the room whilst I pull down my panties, lay a towel underneath myself and insert the thick dildo-like tube into my new vagina.

When I began my transition three years ago, this was always my intended 'endgame', but as the day approached- and the media interest surrounding my SRS increased- I found myself increasingly anxious, having second thoughts about the surgery. Not because I no longer identified as female, but more because I'd become comfortable in my life, and my status as pre-operative. It was common knowledge that I still had a penis, and by and large, the public couldn't care. I was still viewed as a girl by the vast majority of people, and by ALL the people who really mattered, like my family and my friends. Dr Phillips tried to explain this away as my brain chemistry altering due to lack of oestrogen- I had to stop taking my hormone tablets in the weeks leading up to my SRS- but I wasn't convinced.

It was only after talking to Stuart that I was fully convinced I was making the right decision. As much as Charlotte may be my BFF, over the past few weeks, Stuart and I have grown closer than ever. He never did take me up on my ‘friends with benefits’ offer, but as ‘friends without benefits’, we’re closer than we’ve ever been. He helped me realise that even though I didn’t NEED a vagina, if I didn’t have the operation, I’d live the rest of my life WANTING one. And life’s far, far too short to not strive to achieve our goals, especially as I’ve already spent 22 ½ years without a vagina!

After my fifteen minutes are up, I remove the dilator and slowly hobble to the bathroom, where I sterilise the tube in a cup of boiling water and put the towel back in my bag. Naturally, on hearing me move about, Charlotte, Stuart and my mum immediately run upstairs to see if anything’s wrong!

“Oh my god,” I sigh. “I’m not a complete invalid!”

“Yeah, you are,” Stuart says dismissively, wrapping a strong arm around my tiny waist and guiding me back to my bed.

“Seriously,” I sigh as I lay back down. “If I stay cooped up in this room for a month I’m going to go nuts!”

“Nuts?” Charlotte asks. “Interesting choice of word…” Charlotte, Stuart & mum all laugh as I get comfortable on my bed.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” I sigh. “Bananas, then…” I roll my eyes as my mum and my friends laugh again. “God’s sake,” I moan. “Is there any saying in the world that can’t be twisted into innuendo for a cock and balls?”

“Yep,” Charlotte says, sitting next to me and giving me a small cuddle. “And her name is Jamie-Lee Burke!” This time, it’s my turn to giggle at Charlotte’s unusual, but very welcome compliment.

“I’ll make you some tea,” mum says, leaving me alone with my best friends.

“Great,” I say after mum leaves. “I can get some peeing practice in…” Charlotte and Stuart both laugh heartily.

“God, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like…” Charlotte sighs.

“What, having a vagina?” I ask with a cheeky grin. “You’ve had one for 23 years, haven’t you?”

“Twenty-TWO years,” Charlotte corrects.

“…And eleven months,” I say, earning myself a soft whack with a pillow!

“Ladies,” Stuart says. “Keep it above the belt!” Charlotte and I both giggle at Stuart’s joke. “It’s pretty fucked up though,” Stuart sighs. “I’m the only guy in the room and yet I’ve had a vagina longer than anyone else…”

“Which, as Jamie’s proven, you don’t have to keep…” Charlotte says.

“I know, I know,” Stuart sighs. “It’s- it’s just not that easy, not ‘going the other way’…”

“It’s hardly a walk in the park for me,” I say, trying not to snort. “You don’t know what I’d give to be able to go for a walk in the park right now…” Charlotte sighs and cuddles me again.

“You’ll get there,” Charlotte says. “You’ll be pirouetting through the park before you know it!”

“Ugh,” I grunt. “Won’t even be able to go to ballet for months…”

“Aww,” Charlotte says, cuddling me closer. “Where’s your dance bag?”

“Bottom of my closet, left-hand side,” I answer. “Why, exactly?” Without answering, Charlotte hops off my bed and immediately retrieves me dance bag, pulling out my beloved pointe shoes and tying them to my feet before I have the chance to argue.

“Just a reminder that even if you’re off your feet, you’re still a beautiful ballerina!” Charlotte says smugly as I flex my feet and ankles.

“Emphasis on the BEAUTIFUL,” Stuart says.

“Emphasis on the BALLERINA,” Charlotte corrects. “You know I’ve not decided on a theme yet for my 23rd, obviously I’m not going to have another ballet theme, not while you’re off your feet. If you’d prefer, I can skip the ‘theme’ for this year.”

“Oh no,” I plead. “No way! I’ll be back on my feet in a month, I won’t exactly be up to dancing a routine but I can still wear a leotard or a corset…”

“What’ve you had the last 3 years?” Stuart asks Charlotte. “Ballerina, showgirl… What was your 20th again?”

“Playboy bunny,” Charlotte says with a smile. “God, that seems like SO long ago, I’d only known Jamie a couple of months…”

“And yet you were comfortable enough to prance around together in tiny leotards?” Stuart asks. “You really are BFFs…”

“Yep!” I say happily, cuddling Charlotte.

“Here you go,” mum says, opening my door and carrying a tray of full mugs of tea. “Aww,” mum sighs upon seeing my footwear. “Are you missing your ballet already?”

“A little,” I sigh, sipping my tea. “It was Charlotte’s idea, really.”

“Jamie’s so lucky to have such good friends,” mum says proudly. “Especially now she’s off her feet…”

“I really, truly am blessed,” I say.

I spend the rest of the afternoon answering questions and gossiping with my two best friends- when I’m not dilating, douching or sitting in a shallow bath, anyway. Stuart departs after 5pm, leaving me alone with my BFF.

“Okay,” Charlotte says, turning to me with a serious face. “Now that the BOY is gone... How long before you can, y’know, ‘use’ your new lady parts?”

“I assume by ‘use’ you don’t mean just peeing?” I ask, to which Charlotte nods excitedly.

“I figure, y’know, one of the main reasons you’d have it is because…” Charlotte muses, before I hold up a hand to cut her off.

“The MAIN reason is so I stop feeling like the ‘odd girl out’,” I say, prompting Charlotte to give me yet another cuddle.

“You were NEVER the odd girl out,” Charlotte says with a warm smile. “And…?”

“And…” I answer, letting out a small sigh. “Three months minimum, six months recommended. Not that I have a boyfriend to help me ‘use’ it anyway…”

“Six months without sex?” Charlotte grimaces.

“That’s about as long as I’ve already gone,” I whine.

“Yeah, but that’s ‘nasty’ sex…” Charlotte says.

“Have you honestly not even TRIED it yet?” I ask, giggling at Charlotte’s disgust. “Even now I’m ‘fully equipped’ I’d still occasionally, you know, ‘go in back’…”

“Seriously!?” Charlotte asks. “And to answer your question, absolutely not, that hole is strictly no entry!”

“Do you remember how, when we first met, I was seen as the ‘sweet and innocent’ one?” I ask, still laughing at Charlotte’s uncharacteristic prudishness. “If only they could hear this little conversation…” Charlotte giggles, shaking her head at my ‘preferences’.

“I think Keith would freeze in terror if I ‘backed into him’,” Charlotte chuckles. “Speaking of, he’ll be here in a bit…”

“Whilst we’re talking about new experiences,” I say, “I also can’t believe you haven’t learned how to drive yet!” Charlotte simply shrugs and laughs.

“Keith loves chauffeuring me around,” my BFF smugly states. “Is there anything I can get for you before I go?”

“Yes, actually,” I say, trying to find a comfortable position as I sit upright. “Can you look in my dresser, top drawer, right-hand side?”

“What am I looking for?” Charlotte asks as she opens the small drawer.

“You’ll know them when you see them,” I say with a sly grin.

“Ohhhh yes,” Charlotte says with a grin of her own. “Can’t believe you still wear- well, I guess, ‘wore’ these!” Charlotte carefully picks the thin latex vagina panties out of my drawer, playfully holding one in front of her own crotch.

“Most of the time I spend with you I’m wearing skimpy or skin-tight clothing,” I explain. “It’d have been kinda awkward without them!”

“…And now?” Charlotte asks.

“Bin them!” I say happily. Charlotte laughs and scrunches the latex prosthetics into a ball, dropping them in the pedal bin in the corner of my room.

“God, this is so cool!” Charlotte says, giving me a tight, yet careful hug. “I’m at work all day tomorrow, but I’ll drop round whenever I can, okay?”

“Of course!” I say happily. After seeing my BFF off and dilating one last time, I change into a comfortable nightie and my softest cotton panties and snuggle down in my own bed for the first time in almost two weeks. I’m asleep almost as my head hits the pillow- and when I wake up the following morning at 7:30am, I feel refreshed, despite the dull pain that still permeates my sensitive areas.

After dilating, I start my new morning routine, musing on how different it feels not having to do things- like cleaning my vagina panty- and how weird it feels adding things like douching and dilating to the routine. After my first sitz bath of the day (after which I also take the opportunity to shower), I dress in a very comfortable cotton bra and panty set, foregoing anything tight of clingy like a thong, or anything made of satin or lace, until my ‘area’ has the chance to heal and get stronger. I pull a loose knee-length sundress over my head and slowly hobble downstairs, where my parents greet me with looks that could almost be described as ‘horror’.

“What the hell are you doing up!?” Dad asks incredulously. “Get back to bed! You’re not going to get better if you push yourself too hard, you know that!”

“Dad, I’m going to go crazy with boredom if I’m locked in that room all day!” I plead.

“Then on my way home I’ll buy you an Xbox or something,” dad says. “You knew this wasn’t going to be quick, that you wouldn’t recover overnight no matter how bored you get. And your friends will be round in a couple of hours anyway.”

“Yeah, well it’s Mary’s turn to look after me today,” I explain. “I can’t ask her to go up and down stairs all day in her condition, can I?”

“She’ll have her husband with her,” mum argues. “He can do all the hard work.” I sigh, knowing I’m not going to win this argument.

“Okay, fine,” I moan, slowly climbing back up the stairs. “But I want that Xbox! And no complaints about loud noise coming from my room!”

“Done and done,” dad jokes. “I’ll see you later, Jamie.”

“See you, dad,” I say with a smile as mum guides me back up the stairs and onto my bed. As promised, Mary & Dan arrive a short while later and make the slow climb to my room, Dan supporting his very pregnant wife every step of the way.

“Hey girrrrrrrrrrl!” Mary says excitedly, giving me a long hug despite her swollen belly! “God, you look amazing!”

“You look pretty great too!” I say, gently rubbing Mary’s rounded abdomen. ”Taking good care of my god-son or daughter?”

“Of course!” Mary says as she sits down on my large bed. “But today, he or she can wait- his or her godmother is priority number one!”

“I still can’t believe you haven’t told us the sex yet,” I sigh.

“In time,” Mary says with a smug smile. “You’ll find out before the birth, I promise!”

“Good, then I can start buying Christening gifts to alleviate my boredom!” I joke, making both Mary and Dan laugh.

“Anything I can get either of you whilst I’m on my feet?” Dan asks.

“I’m good, thanks,” I say with a smile. “Happy that your wife hasn’t worn her nurse’s costume as Charlotte promised…”

“Well,” Mary teases. “About that…” Much to my surprise, Dan then removes his t-shirt and jeans to reveal Mary’s tiny nurse’s dress underneath, with stockings and suspenders underneath his very visible boxer shorts. Needless to say, after Dan pulls his nurse's hat on, both Mary and I nearly wet ourselves laughing!

“Oh god,” I breathe, barely regaining my composure. “I shouldn’t laugh, I really shouldn’t, but you don’t look even remotely feminine!”

“We did question whether or not this was insensitive,” Dan says, adjusting his stockings. “Glad you approve!”

“Oh believe me, I DON’T,” I laugh. “But I need to take a photo of this!” Much to my delight, Dan pulls several dramatically UNSEXY poses as I snap him with my iPhone.

“We didn’t want you to think that we’re trivialising your, you know, ‘journey’,” Mary explains.

“It’s fine, it really is,” I say with a genuine smile. “Believe me, there’s a difference between ‘transsexual’, ‘drag queen’ and… whatever the hell THAT is!” Dan folds his hairy arms and pouts at us again as we burst into yet another giggling fit.

“God, I shouldn’t be laughing this much,” Mary says. “I’m back and forth to the toilet enough as it is!”

“This is gonna sound odd, given what I’ve just had done,” I sigh, “but I really do envy you. I’m never going to be able to bear children, and at first I was okay with that, but now… I wish there was another operation I could have, you know, to make that possible.”

“You want to spend 9 months in massive discomfort, at the end of which you push something the size of a grapefruit out of your vagina?” Mary asks incredulously.

“I want to be a woman,” I sigh.

“You ARE,” Mary insists.

“And we can lift your dress up to check now,” Dan interjects, earning himself stern stares from myself and his wife.

“THAT was insensitive,” I say coldly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dan grimaces. “I’ll, um, I’ll get everyone something to drink.” When Dan leaves, Mary and I collapse into yet another attack of the giggles.

“He’s not entirely wrong,” Mary says. “By any measurable standard, you ARE female.”

“…Except for genetically,” I sigh.

“Have you ever seen DNA with your own eyes?” Mary asks. “Neither have I. I HAVE, on the other hand, seen a vagina.”

“Oh really?” I ask cheekily.

“My own, for god’s sake!” Mary retorts. “And you’ve got one of them, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I say happily.

“Well, there you go then!” Mary says, bringing a much-needed smile to my face.

“Speaking of,” I sigh, holding up my dilator. “Gonna need a bit of privacy…”

“Wish I had a doctor who told me I could spend all day lying on my back playing with dildos…” Mary laughs, leaving me to dilate in peace.

Mary and Dan remain at my bedside for the rest of the day, chatting to me and entertaining me as best they can. Dad returns at 5pm carrying my promised Xbox, which he sets up with the aid of Dan (who has thankfully changed out of his nurse’s uniform!). After an hour or so of gaming with Dan & Mary, the couple depart, leaving me alone once again with my thoughts. Switching off my new game, I pick up my iPad to find it unsurprisingly littered with new message notifications- most of which are from my BFF. After clearing all the notifications on my twitter, YouTube and Facebook fan page, I open up a new chat window to the woman whose company I missed today.

‘Hey,’ I type to Charlotte.

‘Hey Jay!’ Charlotte immediately responds. ‘Hope you were treated well by Mary and ‘Nurse Dan’!’

‘LOL,’ I reply. ‘You knew about that little ‘surprise’ then?’

‘Please tell me you took pictures!’ Charlotte types. Smiling, I send her some of the photos I’d taken earlier.

‘LOL!!!!’ Charlotte types. ‘I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh really!’

‘No, it’s okay, I almost pissed myself too!’ I reply. ‘Though it’s mostly because Dan’s almost a foot taller than Mary so the dress doesn’t even begin to fit him!’

‘Thank god he didn’t wear her panties, THAT’s something I don’t need to see!’ Charlotte jokes.

‘Lol,’ I type. ‘Got anything planned for tonight?’

‘Just hanging out with Keith,’ Charlotte replies, before typing a winking smiley into the chat box.

‘What’s with the wink?’ I ask.

‘Let’s just say,’ Charlotte types, ‘if I’m walking funny tomorrow I’m blaming you!’ My eyes go wide as I instantly realise what Charlotte’s hinting at.

‘OMG!’ I type. ‘Remember, relax, and enjoy it!’

‘Oh, I plan to,’ Charlotte replies. ‘I figure, seeing as you’re exploring new sensations, it was about time I did the same!’

‘Lol,’ I type. ‘ttyl, bff!’

I get to bed- well, INTO bed- shortly afterwards, after a final dilating session. As much as I want to get back on my feet, the operation has drained most of my energy, meaning- much to my parents’ relief- I find myself getting to bed much earlier than usual. I’m grateful for the early night when my alarm wakes me as usual at 7:30am, and I quickly run through my new morning routine before pulling on a new bra and panty set and a long-sleeved dark blue dress. I also pull on a pair of opaque black tights- largely as it’s colder than usual outside, but also because the dress is short, and I want to disguise the bruising still present (but thankfully fading) on my upper thighs. It’s the first time since my operation that I’ve worn tights- my gynaecologist has warned me of the dangers of yeast infections, and it may have made me a little paranoid!

After my second dilating session of the day, I’m interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door, and I grin widely as Hannah steps into my room, carrying a first aid kit and dressed in the same ‘sexy nurse’ costume as Dan was yesterday- though she looks much better in it, of course!

“Hi!” Hannah beams, giving me a gentle hug. “You just sit back and let Nurse Hannah take care of everything for you today!”

“Thanks,” I say with a grateful grin. “Though the costume really wasn’t necessary.”

“I figured if I wore it, it’d erase the mental image of Dan yesterday!” Hannah laughs.

“Oh my god, you saw the photos?” I ask, prompting a loud giggle from Hannah.

“Basically EVERYONE’s seen it,” the tall blonde girl confirms. “Mary’s gained over a thousand Instagram followers yesterday alone!” I laugh as I open up my iPad and confirm that the photos of Dan are indeed going viral on the internet.

“Can’t think of many guys who’d agree to do that,” I laugh. God knows I wouldn’t have done, not before I met Charlotte…

“He’s married to a supermodel,” Hannah snorts. “It’s not like his masculinity is in any doubt!”

“Very true,” I say, putting away my iPad. “On that topic, are you STILL beating guys away with a stick?”

“If by ‘stick’ you mean something the size of a small tree, then yeah,” Hannah sighs, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“How the hell are you still single?” I ask. “More to the point, how do you not get several marriage proposals just walking down the street?”

“Look who’s talking!” Hannah jokes. “You’ve been single for as long as I’ve known you, and that’s over nine months!”

“Yeah, well I have an excuse,” I say. “HAD an excuse, anyway!” Hannah and I share another giggle as she sidles up closer to me.

“I don’t really NEED a man, anyway,” I say with a confident smile.

“Yeah…” Hannah says. “But do you WANT a man?” I sigh and lay back on my bed.

“Some days, more than anything…” I moan. “And it’s not just the sex… I miss having someone to, you know, just BE with. Someone I can go on dates with, someone I can cuddle up to in bed…” Almost as if on cue, Hannah slides next to me and wraps her arms around me in a soft cuddle.

“…Not quite the same,” I giggle.

“I know what you mean,” Hannah sighs. “Still, got to keep your spirits up, soon you’ll be back on your feet, right? And with brand-new, fancy lady parts…”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Besides, girlfriends are better than boyfriends any day of the week!”

“Too right! Hannah cheers. “Hey, I’ve just had an idea…” Within seconds, Hannah’s phone is in her hands and she’s furiously typing into it. A short while later, my iPad pings, and I can’t help but laugh at the notification on it.

‘Facebook: confirm that you are in a relationship with Hannah Dexter.’ Grinning wickedly, I open up Facebook and confirm the ‘relationship status change’, and inevitably notifications come flooding in, mostly likes, a few ‘OMG’ comments and a few people complaining that April Fool’s Day was earlier in the month! When a comment comes through from Stuart that simply reads ‘prove it’, Hannah and I look at each other and, somehow suppressing giggles, take a selfie of us deeply kissing each other, posting it in the comments to much hilarity!

“I’ve now snogged three of the Angels,” I muse aloud as we giggle at the reaction to our ‘update’.

“Really?” Hannah asks me. “Do tell…”

“…I don’t kiss and tell,” I say, playfully sticking my tongue out at the blonde woman.

“Not even for your ‘girlfriend’?” Hannah pouts.

“A lost bet and an alcohol-fuelled night out in Paris,” I say with a smirk. “Come to think of it, you’re the first girl I ever snogged sober!”

“Ooh, I feel all privileged,” Hannah says.

“And why did you bring a first aid kit with you?” I ask. “I don’t recall you saying you had any medical training…”

“Well…” Hannah says, “It’s not exactly medicine…” Much to my delight, Hannah unzips the ‘first aid kit’ to reveal over thirty bottles of nail polish of all colours.

“I figure two weeks without a proper nail treatment is long enough,” Hannah giggles, taking a glittery red polish from her ‘it’ and expertly recoating my fingernails. “Actually, you really look like you could use a full makeover. Um, no offence, of course…”

“None taken,” I say. “But I know what you mean… I’ve not been wearing that much make-up because I’m not going anywhere but, I dunno, I guess I feel I don’t have to try as hard to be a girl now that I actually have a vagina…”

“Are you really telling me you DON’T like make-up?” Hannah asks with a giggle.

“No,” I retort. “I’m still wearing foundation today, I filled in my eyebrows, I’m wearing clear lip-gloss, it’s just… I don’t have anything to hide any more.”

“You NEVER did,” Hannah smiles, drying my nails with a warm lamp. “Now get those tights off and I’ll do your toes!”

“Ah,” I say defensively. “Um, speaking of nothing to hide… It’s still… Really NOT pretty down there.”

“Keep your knickers on!” Hannah jokes. “Literally, keep them on, it’s not like I’m painting your new lady parts or anything!” Blushing, I slowly slide my tights off my legs, exposing the pale bruises on the inside of my thighs.

“This is kinda what I’m trying to hide,” I sigh, gently touching the tender areas. “Obviously it’ll fade soon, but I’d really rather just keep them covered up.”

“That explains why your tights are so thick,” Hannah says sympathetically. “Guess that just means I’m going to have to paint your toes even brighter!” Smiling, Hannah removes my tights and takes her brightest, almost neon red polish from her kit and begins repainting my toenails.

“Viks won’t be able to come tomorrow,” Hannah explains as she works on my toes. “She’s swapping with Krystie, so you’ll see her tomorrow instead.”

“Isn’t Krys working tomorrow?” I ask.

“Nah, Good Friday,” Hannah explains.

“And what’s up with Viks?” I enquire further.

“You know Joshua’s family are big into church,” Hannah says. “Him and his family are attending some big service somewhere, all the partners are expected to attend too.”

“Viks and Jon are getting really serious, then?” I ask.

“REALLY serious,” Hannah confirms. “I’ve known her for almost ten years, don’t think I’ve ever seen her this crazy about a guy.”

“Did she have boyfriends before signing with Joshua?” I ask. “I mean, she was always so shy…”

“She had boyfriends,” Hannah confirms, “but nothing really serious, nothing longer than a couple of months.”

“Hell, I know that feeling,” I sigh as Hannah dries my toenails and I pull my tights back up. “Before Paul I was bouncing from guy to guy… Didn’t help that I wasn’t ‘out’ before then…”

“Well,” Hannah says with a smile, “now that you’re not just ‘out’ but also, well, ‘off’, you’ll have no problem getting ANY guy you want!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. Sadly not ANY guy… I muse, thinking of how close I came with both Keith and Stuart.

I spend the rest of the day- when not dilating, of course- gossiping with Hannah, redoing each other’s make-up and nails over and over. Hannah departs just after eating dinner with my family (thankfully changing out of her costume into one of my longer dresses so as to avoid any awkward questions). After dad helps me back into my room, I settle down for an evening of chatting on Facebook and gaming on my Xbox, when I’m interrupted by a knock on the front door, and an unexpected guest.

“Hey,” Keith says with a wide smile on his beautiful face. “Got a second?”

“Of course!” I say. “Though if you’re wearing a nurse’s dress under there…”

“No,” Keith laughs. “No, no, no. Dan’s taken the humiliation for the team there! Um, uh, not that a man wearing women’s clothing is humiliating, um…”

“Sit down!” I laugh, giggling at Keith awkwardly trying to backpedal from an insult he didn’t make.

“Thanks,” Keith says, sitting down.

“Where’s Charlie?” I ask.

“She’s not here,” Keith says. “She’s gone out with Krystie, I think. I know the six of you have said no ‘big nights out’ until you and Mary are back on your feet, but I think they just really needed to go out.”

“Meh, good for them,” I say with a smile. “As long as Krystie’s not too hungover tomorrow!” Keith giggles, before his gorgeous brown eyes stare deeply into mine.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” Keith says softly. “When Charlotte said how you were almost bedridden, I- I felt really, really bad…”

“Why on Earth would you feel bad?” I half-giggle. “It’s not like you did the operation yourself…” This time, it’s Keith’s turn to giggle.

“I know, it’s just… I miss you at home,” Keith sighs. “When I moved in, it was me moving into Charlotte & Jamie’s home, and I still see it as Charlotte & Jamie’s home. And you’ve got that huge bedroom with nothing in it…”

“I know,” I whisper. “I do want to move back in, but… I wouldn’t be the same. Not between me and Charlotte, and certainly not between you and me, given what we nearly did last year.”

“I understand,” Keith sighs. “You know you’re by miles the closest female friend I’ve ever had, besides Charlotte, right?”

“’Female’ with an asterisk, right?” I joke.

“Shit no,” Keith says dismissively. “I’ve only ever seen you as a woman. Yes, when I ‘found out’, it came as a bit- okay, a LOT of a surprise, but regardless of what you have- or had- between your legs, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve only ever been a girl.” Much to my surprise, Keith then leans in and gently kisses me on my lips, before blushing beautifully and standing up.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, Jamie.” Keith mumbles, leaving the room.

“See you round, Keith,” I sigh, slumping back onto my bed.

“Nice lad,” dad says, letting himself into my room and sitting in the spot Keith had only just left. “I do wish you’d find yourself a nice guy like him.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “So do I…”

After another early night, I wake up on Friday morning and run through my morning routine, dressing in a comfortable long-sleeved white cotton bodysuit and a loose, knee-length black skirt. The bodysuit is tight around my torso, but long enough to not be uncomfortable around my tender ‘area’ even when wearing a pad, and it has a snap crotch in case it gets uncomfortable, or I need to dilate.

In fact, it’s in the middle of my second dilating session when I hear a knock on my bedroom door, and Krystie lets herself in, carrying a ‘first aid kit’ and dressed (predictably) in her nurse’s costume, but with pink ballet tights underneath instead of the black stockings the costume is normally worn with.

“Hi Jamie!” Krystie says excitedly as I flip my skirt over my legs to disguise the tube that's currently sticking out of my vagina.

“Hi Krys!” I say, slightly embarrassed at having been ‘caught out’. “I, um, wasn’t expecting you until a bit later?”

“I can tell,” Krystie teases, staring at the unfortunate bulge the dilator is creating in the front of my skirt.

“Bit of privacy, please?” I ask. Krystie giggles and turns around as I raise my skirt again.

“How often do you have to do that, anyway?” Krystie asks.

“Four times a day,” I sigh sadly. “At least at first.”

“Can I see it?” Krystie asks.

“No you CAN’T,” I reply with a giggle.

“I didn’t mean your vagina,” Krystie sighs. “I mean- can I see the, um, you know…”

“The dilator?” I ask. “Ehh… I suppose it couldn’t hurt, as long as you don’t intend to use it!”

“Nah, got Paul for that,” Krystie giggles as I toss her one of the thin blue tubes. “How, um, how far in does it go?”

“Up to the black dot on the side,” I say.

“God,” Krystie exclaims. “That’s like… six, seven inches deep?”

“What were you expecting?” I ask, laughing at my friend’s surprise. “The whole point of the operation is to make it ‘useable’, after all.”

“I guess,” Krystie says, staring at the dilator in disbelief.

“And that’s not the biggest one,” I say smugly. “Couple of months from now I’m going to have to shove something one and a half times wider up there…”

“Ah, the ‘Jonathan’,” Krystie jokes, making us both giggle uncontrollably.

“You’re not entirely wrong!” I joke, removing my dilator, changing my pad and refastening my bodysuit. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

“Anything I can get you or ‘Paul’?” Krystie asks, referring to the slick blue tube in my hand.

“’Paul’ needs to clean off in a cup of hot water,” I say, standing up with my friend’s help. “And before you say anything, it’s lubricant, not, well, you know.”

“As if I’d have said anything!” Krystie jokes.

After a filling lunch which included yummy hot cross buns (and another dilating session), Krystie (who, like Hannah, had pulled one of my dresses over her nurse’s ‘uniform’ whilst downstairs) helps me back onto my bed.

“You know,” Krystie jokes, “if I didn’t have such a gorgeous boyfriend I’d be really jealous of you and young Miss Dexter…”

“Oh, we only made out once,” I joke as I get comfortable on my bed, smoothing my skirt over my bare legs.

“Who, me and you or me and Hannah?” Krystie asks.

“Both,” I say, sticking my tongue out at Krystie, who simply giggles. “And as I AM laid up in bed, I’m going to be really jealous of you and young Miss Hutchinson having a big night out yesterday…”

“Oh, we didn’t stay out late,” Krystie sighs. “It’s not as much fun without the rest of the girls.” I pout expectantly at Krystie, who simply rolls her eyes and giggles.

“…ESPECIALLY you,” Krystie says, making me giggle happily.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s in your first aid kit, then? Hannah kind-of ‘covered’ me yesterday…” I display my glittery nails to Krystie, who coos approvingly.

“What I’ve got in my kit is far more important in emergencies than nail polish,” Krystie giggles, opening her first aid kit to reveal her own satin pointe shoes. Much to my surprise, Krystie then ties the pointe shoes to her feet and proceeds to mince around my room en pointe, pirouetting and piquing as I happily applaud.

“I figured since I’m not going to get any practice in today, I can multi-task,” Krystie explains, stretching her leg on my chest of drawers in lieu of a barre. “And it’ll help encourage you to get back on your feet, so you can get back on your toes!”

“Trust me, I don’t need any more encouragement there,” I sigh happily. “I was back at ballet less than a week after having my tits done, even though I couldn’t raise my arms higher than my shoulders.”

“You really are an inspiration,” Krystie muses, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “And not just to transgendered people- though there are a few girls in my classes who’d definitely agree- but to us, um, ‘always-been’ girls too.”

“I’m not an inspiration,” I sigh. “I’m just… trying to live my life the way I feel most comfortable.”

“’Major surgery to the genitals’ isn’t my idea of comfortable!” Krystie jokes.

“Maybe not,” I concede, “but ‘having a vagina’ is!”

“No argument here!” Krystie says happily.

As with Hannah yesterday, Krystie sticks around for dinner but departs shortly afterward. After being helped back to my bedroom, I stand in front of my vast wardrobe for a while, staring wistfully at my tiny clubbing dresses. I HATE being cooped up inside, even though I know it’s for my own good. Friday nights should be spent out with the girls, not in my bedroom by myself. Deciding that I'd be better off looking for some company- even if it is virtual- I pick up my iPad and open up Facebook. Much to my delight, Charlotte's online, so I fire off a quick message.

‘Hey bestie,’ I type with a wicked grin on my face.

‘Hey Jay!’ Charlotte replies.

'Missed you the last couple of days,' I type.

'Yeah,' Charlotte replies. 'Sorry, been busy with work, also been helping Keith around the house.' I smile wickedly, spotting- or at least hoping I've spotted- the euphemism.

‘Soooo?’ I type.

‘Soooo… what?’ Charlotte replies.

‘Having trouble sitting?’ I type with a winking smiley.

‘I don’t know what you could possibly mean,’ Charlotte replies.

‘You didn’t back out of it, did you?’ I ask, slightly disappointed but understanding Charlotte’s decision.

‘Back out of it? No…’ Charlotte types. ‘Back INTO it?’ Charlotte sends a sticking out tongue smiley and I giggle excitedly.

‘OMG!’ I reply. ‘You little slut!’ I send another winking smiley to let Charlotte know I’m joking when I call her a ‘slut’. The sticking out tongue smiley I get in return lets me know no offence was taken.

‘I took your advice,’ Charlotte types. ‘I relaxed, let myself enjoy it… I may have ‘helped myself along a little’ but I’m DEFINITELY doing it again. Provided Keith stops being so squeamish about it!’

‘Lol!’ I type. ‘Did you go protected?’

‘Nah,’ Charlotte replies, making me giggle. ‘Kinda regret that… Keith was in the shower for 10 minutes afterwards trying to get clean!’

‘Lol!’ I type.

‘Gotta go now, Keith’s got a ‘special project’ he needs help with. And no, it's nothing to do with THAT, you dirty minded woman! Ttyl, bestie!’ Charlotte signs out of Facebook, leaving me alone on my bed- but with a broad, happy smile on my face.

I lower myself into a prone position and take a deep, relaxing breath when, as with last night, I’m interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door.

“Yet another gentleman caller,” dad jokes as Stuart lets himself into my bedroom.

“Hey Jamie,” Stuart says, beaming a cute, lop-sided smile.

“Hi Stu,” I say, perking up at the sight of my favourite transman.

“I just thought I’d drop round,” Stuart explains. “Thought I’d, you know, see how you were doing…”

“If you missed me, you can always just say,” I joke. “Though I thought you’d be busy with work all week?”

“Project’s going a lot faster than expected,” Stuart explains. “The songs don’t really need that much editing… And yes, I did miss you.” I giggle at the (admittedly forced) admission.

“I missed you too,” I say quietly.

“Even though it’s only been three days?” Stuart asks with a chuckle.

“Well…” I say, pausing briefly before we both break down in another giggling fit.

We spend the next two hours talking about nonsense- trivial stuff like Jonathan & Viks, Krystie & Paul, the – for want of a better way of putting it- ins and outs of my dilation regime, Stuart’s sister and Krystie’s brother (who are still an item). Stuart sticks around until 9:30pm, and I find myself desperate for him to stay longer.

“Thank you,” I whisper to Stuart as he leaves. “Thank you so much, and not just for tonight, not just for helping me decide to have this surgery, but for everything. Thank you… For being you.”

“No,” Stuart says with a smile. “Thank YOU for being YOU. See you soon, Jamie.” Stuart shuts the door and leaves me to slump back onto my bed.

“I- I love you,” I whisper, closing my eyes against the darkness of my room.

I just about manage to muster up the strength to dilate one last time and change into my nightie to climb into bed, before waking up on the Saturday morning at 7:30am, same as every other day. After my morning routine, I change into another comfortable bodysuit, only this time a sleeveless black one, before pulling on a short dark blue dress with a floral pattern on it. I’m barely back on my bed when my bedroom door knocks, and a familiar dark-haired girl enters my room, followed by her (very!) familiar dark-skinned boyfriend.

“Hi!” Viks gushes, giving me a gentle hug. Thankfully, she ISN’T dressed in a nurse’s uniform, nor is she toting a ‘first aid kit’!

“Hi Jamie!” Jonathan says, wrapping an arm around Viks’s waist. “You get two for the price of one today!”

“I get the impression ‘just one’ wasn’t an option!” I giggle.

“Well… Not really,” Viks says. “Can I get you anything whilst I’m up?”

“Nope, I’m good,” I say. “Kinda got my little ‘woman cave’ set up here, got my magazines, my cosmetics, my iPad and my Xbox… Only real thing I don’t have in here permanently is a friend to share it all with!”

“Now THAT I can provide!” Viks giggles, sitting next to me on my bed and immediately playing with my hair.

“Did you both have fun at church yesterday?” I ask.

“It was okay,” Jonathan says. “It was church, you know? Old guy in a white robe talking about Jesus… Just thankful we got out of there by 11.”

“Aww, you could’ve dropped round after all,” I say. “Krystie didn’t get here yesterday much after 10.”

“Well it was Krystie who wanted to swap,” Viks explains as she ties my long blonde hair into fun braids. “Said she had an appointment or something.”

“Really?” I ask. “She didn’t mention anything yesterday…”

“Said it was something personal,” Viks continues. “You didn’t hear this from me, but she MIGHT be planning a surprise for you tomorrow…”

“Okay,” I reply with a grin. “Surprises are always good, provided it fits in this one room, of course!”

“I’m sure it will,” Viks says, before noticing her boyfriend standing around awkwardly. “Yes, Jonathan, I’m sure Jamie won’t mind you switching on her Xbox.”

“It’s fine,” I say with a grin, before pulling one of my dilators out of my drawer. “Though you will have to pause it in about half an hour whilst I do something I WOULDN’T get away with in church!” Viks and I giggle as Jonathan stares uncomfortably at the thin tube in my hand.

The day with Jonathan and Viks passes as it always does, with us gossiping, gaming and having fun. Viks isn’t my closest friend from the ‘Angels’- in fact, I probably know her least well out of the five girls- but I do love spending time with her. When it’s both her and Jonathan, though, I can’t help but feel like a third wheel in my own bedroom- and a part of me is actually glad when they depart just after 5pm. Before they go, I ask Jonathan to carry me downstairs to my sofa, where- despite my parents’ protests- I spend the rest of the evening.

“That can’t be as comfortable as your bed,” dad argues.

“You’d be surprised,” I sigh. “Surprised I haven’t developed bedsores yet. And it’s not like I’m running a marathon or dancing the nutcracker…”

“Okay, fine,” dad concedes. “Just expect an ‘I told you so’ if you hurt yourself…”

“Followed by massive helpings of fatherly sympathy, I trust?” I retort, making dad rolls his eyes.

“Yes, of course,” dad says. “I want to see you back on your feet just as much as you do, but not until you’re ready! Try to remember that you’re still healing, um, ‘down there’.”

“Believe me, it’s not exactly easy to forget,” I sigh.

“How are you feeling, Jamie?” Mum asks, sitting down next to dad.

“Still sore,” I sigh. “But more frustrated than anything.”

“You’ll be back on your feet before you know it,” mum says with a warm smile.

“I know,” I say, getting comfortable on the sofa. “One thing’s for sure- when I see Krys tomorrow, I’m definitely asking for a ballet-themed party for my 23rd!”

“Assuming your friend Mary will be back on her feet by then,” dad says, making me sigh and playfully scream into a nearby cushion.

“Welcome to adult life!” Mum giggles at my frustration. “You’ll get over your operation soon, but Mary’s going to be raising a child for at least the next 18 years, and your other friends will undoubtedly become mothers too!”

“…And there’s nothing that says you won’t either!” Dad reminds me, also chuckling at my ‘mini-tantrum’.

“God, why can’t I just be nineteen again…?” I muse, before giggling along with my parents.

I laugh the night away with my parents before dad carries me back upstairs where I dilate and douche one last time before settling down for the night. Where Fridays are our usual girls’ nights out, Saturday’s have quickly become girls’ nights in- yet another tradition I’m missing.

I break yet another tradition by waking up on Sunday morning at 7:30am and not getting back in bed after my first bath/dilating session, instead pulling on a fresh cotton bra & panty set, a pink t-shirt and a loose, long skirt. Thankfully, Krystie shows up before 10am to help me alleviate my boredom- even if she isn’t dressed as a nurse today!

“It takes someone really, REALLY special to get this model out of bed before 9am on a Sunday,” Krystie pouts, before giggling and giving me a long, soft hug.

“No ‘first aid kit’ today?” I ask. “Viks said yesterday you were planning a surprise for me…”

“Oh, keep your knickers on!” Krystie jokes, before shooting me a sly wink. “You’ll see…”

“Okay, I’m REALLY curious now…” I pout.

“You’ll see, stop whining!” Krystie giggles.

“FINE,” I mock-sigh, before giggling along with my friend. “Get up to anything last night? God knows there’s only so much of my sofa and my parents I’m going to be able to take…”

“Just fooling around with Paul,” Krystie says with a grin. “We also dropped round Mary & Dan for some drinks. Figured that as we aren’t having proper girls’ nights in, we’d have a mini one anyway.”

“PLEASE tell me she’s told you the gender…” I plead.

“Well…” Krystie teases, before grinning widely. “You’re also godmother, so I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you, even though she DID want to tell you herself tomorrow.”

“Ooh, ooh, tell me!” I say excitedly, almost bouncing up and down despite my ‘soreness’.

“Just so we’re clear, this ISN’T the surprise,” Krystie says, drawing out the sentence as long as she possibly can.

“Come onnnnnnn!” I beg.

“Do you really need to ask?” Krystie says with a smug grin.

“YES!” I near-snap, making the tall girl giggle even more at my frustration.

“Oh come on,” Krystie laughs. “As if the first child of the Angels would be anything OTHER than a girl!”

“Yay!” I cheer, hugging Krystie. “Has she decided on a name yet?”

“She’s got one in mind,” Krystie says with a proud smile. “Kristina-Leigh, after both of her godmothers.” I gasp and clamp my hands to my face, such is the power of Mary’s gesture. Sure, I don’t use the ‘Lee’ part of my name all that often, but it is still part of my name.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, blinking back tears.

“So we’re going to have to be extra-great godmothers!” Krystie says, clearly emotional herself. “Think you can be the best Christian in the world?” I giggle as an alarm goes off on my phone and I reach into my drawer to retrieve my dilating kit.

“Not when I’m doing THIS,” I laugh, twirling the thin tube around in my fingers. Krystie giggles and leaves me in peace for fifteen minutes before I call her back into the room.

“No, stay in bed,” Krystie orders. “I’ll make sure ‘Paul’ gets clean!”

“Hehe,” I giggle. “Just so we’re clear, when I refer to the small one as ‘Paul’, I do of course mean ‘Gould’ and not ‘Kennedy’!”

“God,” Krystie moans. “It’s been, like, a year since you got rid of him! Move on!”

“Believe me, I’m trying,” I sigh. “Friday was actually a year since we split. And... It was him who got rid of me, not the other way round…”

“Pencil-dicked moron,” Krystie spits, returning into my bedroom with my cleaned and sterilised dilating kit.

“HIS loss,” I say smugly.

“Hell yeah!” Krystie cheers. “Now, I believe I promised you a surprise, right?”

“Finally!” I say, shifting around as I sit upright. “Sorry if I fidget a little, it’s kinda difficult finding a comfortable sitting position.”

“Oh, I know how you feel,” Krystie says smugly.

“Umm…” I mutter. “How, exactly, do you know how I’m feeling?”

“The ‘appointment’ I had yesterday?” Krystie says with a sparkle in her eyes. Much to my surprise, Krystie then hikes her tight black skirt up onto her hips, revealing her lack of panties- and a small metal bar poking through her clitoris.

"Oh my god," I state, staring a little too long at Krystie's vagina.

"Call me silly," Krystie says with a smile, "but I've always wanted to have it done, and I figured you've dolled up your crotch..."

"Bit of an understatement!" I retort, making Krystie giggle (and, thankfully, lower her skirt). "Did it hurt?"

"Imagine the absolute worst pain you've ever experienced," Krystie says with a kinky smile. "Then five seconds later, the pain goes, and you get a warm, glowing feeling down there."

"Think I'll pass," I say. "At least until I've had my stitches removed!"

"How long will you have to wait for that?" Krystie asks.

"At least a month," I sigh. "But the scarring and the swelling will stick around for ages afterwards..."

"Ca- no, no," Krystie says, shaking her head. "I'm not going to ask to see it, it wouldn't be fair..."

"What, 'I'll show you mine and you'll show me yours'?" I ask, making Krystie roll her eyes and nod.

"I honestly don't mind," I say softly. "It'd actually be nice to get another girl's opinion..."

"ONLY if you're sure," Krystie says. I smile and nod, before hiking up my skirt and lowering my panties, shivering a little as the cool air of the room touches my vagina.

"Oh my god," Krystie whispers softly. "I- I'm sorry," Krystie blinks back tears as I gently raise my panties and lower my skirt.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned by my friend's sudden emotion.

"It's just- it's- it's just a normal vagina," Krystie says, before giving me a gentle hug.

"That is the whole point of the operation!" I giggle.

"I mean yes, it's got a mass of stitches around it, and it looks all pink and sensitive, but- it's just a vagina..."

"JUST a vagina?" I ask, making Krystie giggle.

"Okay," Krystie concedes. "It's an AWESOME vagina. It's the queen vagina, the Regina of vaginas!"

"Better!" I smirk, giving my friend a long, soft hug.

Krystie hangs around until after dinner (during which she manages to extort an Easter Egg out of my parents), and throughout the day I keep finding myself staring at her crotch- a constant reminder that I’m not the only one who has a ‘designer vagina’! After Krystie leaves, I settle down for a quiet night when, yet again, I hear a knocking on my front door, and seconds later, Stuart makes his way into my bedroom.

“Hey Stuart,” I say as a massive grin involuntarily spreads across my face.

“Hi Jamie!” My favourite transman replies, sitting down next to me on my bed. “Feeling any better?”

“A little better every day,” I say with a smile. “Got an appointment with my specialist on Tuesday, they’ll let me know how things are going then.”

“Is that your SRS specialist or a gynaecologist?” Stuart asks.

“Think they fill both roles,” I answer.

“Good,” Stuart says, nodding. “Mine does too, when I started transitioning I had to attend a separate gynaecologist. THAT was a hell of a thing to try to explain…” I giggle at the thought of Stuart- who, despite his 5’ 7” height and slender build, is one of the most masculine-looking guys I know- sitting in a waiting room filled with judgemental middle-aged women.

“You ever regret transitioning?” I ask softly. Stuart simply shakes his head.

“Best decision I ever made,” Stuart says with a grin. “Being a girl… It’s not for everyone, and it most definitely isn’t for me.”

“Good,” I say. “I’ll happy take over your ‘girl slot’ then!” Stuart grimaces slightly at my choice of words.

“Can we not say ‘slot’, please?” Stuart asks. “Kinda a sensitive area for me…” I smile sadly at the attractive young man’s discomfort.

“It’s… not exactly the picture of comfort for me either, right now!” I joke, making Stuart chuckle. “OR for Krystie…”

“Oh?” Stuart asks. “Do tell…”

“Let’s just say she showed up here today with a sharp piece of metal poking out of somewhere other than her ears, her nose or her navel…” I teases, making Stuart giggle excitedly.

“You’re kidding!” Stuart laughs.

“Nope!” I beam, making Stuart sigh happily. A brief pause fills the room as we catch each other’s gaze. Slowly, our heads lean in towards each other and we kiss, a soft, loving kiss that seems to last an eternity.

“I-“ Stuart stutters, breaking away from the kiss. “I- I’m sorry Jamie, you’re vulnerable right now, I got carried away, I sh-“

“Shut up, please?” I say with a smile, pulling Stuart’s head back towards me and kissing him again, a deeper, passionate kiss. I close my eyes as my tongue explores Stuart’s mouth as deeply as his tongue explores mine. I shiver as one of Stuart's expert hands find their way under my t-shirt and bra, gently massaging my hardening nipples. Instinctively, I reach into Stuart's trousers to 'return the favour', but he suddenly cuts me off.

"It's... Not pretty down there," Stuart says sadly. Smiling, I turn myself so my crotch is facing Stuart, and hike up my skirt whilst lowering my panties, just as I had earlier with Krystie.

"It's probably prettier than this!" I joke, shocking even myself by how comfortable I feel showing my vagina to Stuart. Still wearing his sad smile, Stuart removes his jeans, followed by his boxer shorts, allowing me to see his private area for the first time- and I will confess to being a little shocked. There, as Stuart alluded to earlier, is his 'slot'- his vaginal lips, similar in appearance to my own. Above his vagina is his clitoris- and that is what is most shocking. Rather than the small flap of flesh tucked between my own vaginal lips, his is much, much bigger- almost two inches long, and slightly thicker than the average pencil. It actually resembles a small penis.

"Pretty?" I ask. "I think it's SEXY." Stuart and I share a wide smile as we kiss each other deeply one more time, and I gently stroke his clitoris with one finger, making him shudder and moan into my mouth.

"Oh god," Stuart mumbles.

"Do- do you want me to stop?" I ask.

"HELL no," Stuart gasps. I grin and stroke his clitoris with a second finger, increasing the pressure gradually until Stuart loses the ability to kiss me and gasps into my mouth, before collapsing back onto my bed. As I lay back down next to Stuart, utterly drained despite the short duration of our 'encounter', I turn my head and stare at the heavily panting young man.

“I really do love you, you know,” I whisper. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve got down there, it’s what’s here-“ I gently place a hand on Stuart’s muscular chest “-that counts.”

“I- I love you too, Jamie,” Stuart whispers, making my heart melt. “You’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had… Who says sex destroys friendships, anyway?”

“People who are WRONG,” I say, giggling as I kiss Stuart yet again- giggles that only intensify as Stuart, despite himself, giggles into my mouth!

We spend the rest of the evening in bed, kissing and cuddling, gossiping about our friends, our families, discussing the future of our budding relationship. Stuart departs at around 10:30pm, and I can tell he’s just as reluctant to leave my bed as I am to see him go. Ever since Paris, I’ve fallen a little more in love with Stuart every day, and now that we’re in a full-fledged relationship- now that I’ve ‘tested the waters’- I only find myself desiring him more. I never ever dreamed I’d be able to find a boyfriend with whom I can laugh as much as (and at the same time as) I orgasm. Stuart is the only thing on my mind as I lay my head down on my pillow and slowly drift off to sleep…

"Hey Jamie!" Stuart says, poking his head around my bedroom door.

"Hi Stu!" I say, arranging myself into a seating position, before standing up and allowing my loose dress to fall to the floor. Almost instantly, Stuart is naked too, his long, glistening penis standing fully erect as he kisses me deeply. I allow any resistance to leave my body as Stuart lowers my naked form onto my bed, his penis slowly forcing my vagina open...

My alarm snaps me out of my dream and I wake up panting heavily, my sheets covered in sweat. I throw back the covers and take a mirror from my nightstand, inspecting my lady parts for any damage- fortunately, everything looks intact, but the feeling I got from that dream… Was powerful. It was hardly the first erotic dream I’ve ever had, obviously, but still…

For my morning routine, I run a slightly colder sitz bath than normal, hoping it’ll cool down some of the ‘excitement’ I’m feeling about Stuart. I also apply a full face of make-up for the first time in what feels like years, and it feels- not to mention looks- SO good once it’s on. I pull on a comfortable white short-sleeved bodysuit, followed by black tights (the bruising on my thighs is fading fast, but still a little too noticeable for my liking) and a clingy black skirt. My legs are still too wobbly for heels so I slip my feet into a pair of cute black flats. After retouching my glittery red nails, tying my hair back into a ponytail and putting on my favourite jewellery, I grab my handbag and slowly hobble downstairs.

“Oh for god’s sake!” Dad exclaims as I slowly lower myself onto the sofa. “Why are you wearing shoes? And make-up? You’re not planning on going outside, are you?”

"I've been cooped up either in here or in hospital for two weeks," I complain. "It's not like I'm jetting off to America or anything, I'm just getting some fresh air."

"We'll open a window," dad snorts.

"Besides, it's been two weeks," I explain. "Two weeks of filming that I haven't taken part in..."

"Okay," dad sighs, knowing that I know his extreme dislike of being on camera trumps his paternal instinct. "Have fun with Mary and Dan."

Sure enough, my Irish friend and her husband show up less than half an hour later with a camera crew in tow.

"Hey, beautiful woman!" Mary says, giving me a big hug. "Your public awaits!"

"Ugh, knew I couldn't put this off any longer," I moan, following Mary and Dan out into my front garden where we almost immediately have a camera shoved in our face.

"Two weeks," Mary says with a smile. "How is everything, you know, 'down there'?"

"Two weeks and a day," I say. "And it's still healing, but it's looking a damn sight better than it did a week ago!"

"No more bleeding?" Mary asks.

"No, thank god," I reply. "That's the one feminine experience I'm spared!"

"Ugh, lucky you," Mary says with a sly smirk.

"Anyway," I say with a wide grin, "more importantly, am I going to find out if all the 'girl rays' I've been shooting into my godchild worked or not?" Mary giggles as I turn around and rub her expanding belly.

"Did you really think the poor kid stood a chance?" Dan jokes. "Of course it's a girl!" I make a show of pretending I don't know, hugging both Dan and Mary before we continue our walk.

"Have you thought of any names?" I ask.

"We were thinking of naming it after Dan's mum," Mary says. "Angela- seems appropriate somehow!"

"Oh," I say, somewhat disappointed given Krystie's news of the name yesterday. Within seconds, though, Mary & Dan's giggling give away the fact that they're not being entirely honest with me.

"At least, that'll be her middle name," Dan says. "How attached are you to the 'Lee' part of your first name again?"

"Well it's on my driving licence, my passport..." I explain.

"So if we were to call the baby, say, 'Kristina-Leigh'...?" Mary teases, and even though I knew it was coming, I almost break down in tears at the gesture.

"Oh my god, Mary!" I blub, giving my friend a long, gentle hug. "It's- it's such an honour! Thank you so much!" I don't even try to act, as I don't need to- the look in Mary's and Dan's eyes is one of pure love for me, for everything I've done for them over the years.

"She is going to be the luckiest girl in the world," Mary gushes. "Krystie's already signed her up for her toddler class, even though she won't be able to start until she's 2!"

"She's going to be the luckiest girl in the world," I say smugly, "because she'll have the best parents in the world."

"And the best five aunts in the world," Dan says with a warm smile, leading Mary and myself down the road arm in arm.

"Aren't you wearing the costume today?" I ask Dan, making Mary nearly wet herself laughing!

We're only out of the house for forty minutes, thanks to my dilating schedule taking over my life, but even that amount of fresh air is like a holiday from being cooped up in my room.- which is where Dan carries me back to the second we return to the house. After I dilate in privacy, I sit in front of the camera for half an hour, answering a few questions the producers had prepared for me, before Mary, Dan and myself return to my room where we while away the day gossiping, free from the prying eyes of Joshua's film crews. I just about manage to hobble downstairs at 6pm, where I see Mary & Dan off with big hugs each.

"You guys seriously have a babysitter for life," I giggle as my friends depart.

"Kinda goes with the whole 'godmother' territory!" Dan jokes. After my friends leave, I grab my iPad and relax on the sofa.

"Godmother to a celebrity baby?" Dad asks with a proud smile. "As if I didn't have enough reasons to be proud of you..." I giggle at my father's unexpected compliment and open up Facebook, looking through my unread messages. I am, of course, looking for any messages Stuart left me, but the topmost message on the page almost causes the blood to drain from my body.

'Hi Jamie,' the message reads. 'Hope you're recovering well. My best, Paul Gould.' I stare at the message for almost five minutes, occasionally starting to type a reply but never sending or even finishing any messages to the man with whom I shared my body for over year, but haven't had any contact from in the same amount of time. In the end, I simply delete the message. Paul's given me 368 days of silence, he deserves nothing less than that himself. And I've moved on to someone much, much better... Haven't I?

After I delete Paul's message, I move onto the messages Stuart left for me over the day.

'Morning beautiful,' the first one reads.

'Tell Dan if he wears the costume again, we're revoking his 'boy card,' says the next one, making me giggle.

'Hope you're having fun with Dan & Mary... I'll leave you in peace, message me back when you get the chance,' the penultimate one reads.

'Riley and Becca are getting on my pecs, btw,' the last message reads. 'If you message me later and I reply in gibberish, it's their fault.' I laugh out loud at Stuart's final message and compose a reply.

'I'm sorry, 'getting on my pecs'?' I type.

'Bweiopahshfuwe,' Stuart near-immediately replies, making me almost wet myself laughing.

'Want to try that again?' I type.

'You don't know lucky you are you're an only child,' Stuart replies. 'And as for 'getting on my pecs', I can hardly say 'getting my tits' now, can I?' I reply with a string of smileys for the boy who never fails to make me smile.

'I really missed you today,' I type. 'Even though I had great company in Mary & Dan.'

'We only saw each other less than 24 hours ago,' Stuart types. 'Is that really enough time to start missing each other?'

'It is when we're a new couple xxxx,' I reply.

'xxxx,' Stuart replies. 'Though we're not REALLY a couple, not until we put it on Facebook anyway...'

'Fuck Facebook,' I type.

'...Types the girl USING Facebook!' Stuart retorts.

'If you want to put it on Facebook, be my guest!' I type.

'No no,' Stuart replies. 'Ladies first!' I smile happily as I compose my reply.

'Doing anything tomorrow?' I ask.

'Only work,' Stuart replies. 'Which I got a ton of done today, when I wasn't being plagued by my sister & her boyfriend's seemingly never-ending game of kiss chase, anyway.'

'Want to hang out, after my appointment?' I ask.

'Isn’t it Charlotte's turn to 'nurse' you tomorrow?' Stuart asks. 'I know Keith says she's been getting antsy as she hasn't seen you in a week...'

'There's more than enough of me to go around,' I type with a smile. 'Double coffee date at my house?'

'Sounds perfect,' Stuart replies. 'See you then. Love you! xxxx'

'Love you too xxxx,' I reply as Stuart goes offline.

I eventually make my way back upstairs where I finish off my 'vaginal care' routine for the day and climb under my bed sheets, quickly drifting off to sleep, where once again, I dream about my naked body being taken by the man of my dreams, only when I open my eyes and look into his face, it isn't Stuart I see, but Paul Gould...

"Aah!" I yelp, waking up from the dream that quickly took a turn for the worse- and yet, as I calm down, I find that the more I remember the dream, the more I enjoyed being taken by Paul...

For what feels like the millionth day in a row, I drag myself out of bed at 7:30 to run through my morning routine. These seemingly endless consecutive early mornings are taking a toll on my already weakened body, but I can’t miss my doctor’s appointment today, so I cover up my tiredness with a thick layer of make-up before picking out my outfit for the day. After putting on a brand new black bra and panty set, I pull a light, knee-length dress over my head. The dress is black but has a playful decorative pattern on it in black stitching, and had wide shoulder straps that cover my bra. My bruising had faded to the point where it’s barely noticeable, so I skip tights, and slip my feet into a pair of wedges with a 1 ½ inch heel- the first non-flat shoes I’ve worn since my operation, and they feel almost like ballet boots. I take the wedges off walking downstairs but put them back on once I’m on my sofa.

“Are you sure you’re ready for heels, Jamie?” Mum asks as I carefully stretch myself out.

“They’re tiny!” I reply, only barely convincing myself.

“You’re unsteady on your feet in flats!” Mum argues. “I know your dad may come across as overprotective, but he really does have a point- you shouldn’t push yourself too hard, too soon. Your friends will be here for you as long as you need them, you know that, and if the camera crew don’t get enough footage of you, well, that’s their problem, isn’t it?”

“It also becomes MY problem if my public profile fades…” I moan.

“Says the girl who spends hours each day replying to messages on her social websites!” Mum giggles. “Jamie… You really are an inspiration to a lot of people. People who don’t mind waiting for you to get better.”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile, relaxing onto the sofa. I barely have time to get comfortable when my doorbell rings and I find myself wrapped in a massive hug from my BFF.

“Jamie Jamie Jamie Jamie!” Charlotte squeaks, cuddling me close to her body. “I haven’t seen you in a week! You look SO much better than you did last week!”

“Thanks!” I squeak, happily returning Charlotte’s hug.

“You really do look so much better,” Keith says, giving me a brief hug of his own. “Come on outside, I’ve got a little surprise…” I step outside- assisted by Charlotte- and immediately breakdown into a fit of giggles when I see the car my friends drove here in.

Instead of Keith’s sleek Toyota, the car on the street outside my house is- or rather, was- a black London cab. I say ‘was’ as it’s now a fuchsia pink colour, and has caricatures of all the Angels painted on the door!

“Behold,” Charlotte says. “The Angelmobile!”

“I love it!” I gush. “This is so awesome! Did Joshua buy this?”

“Nope,” Keith says smugly. “All my idea. I figure if it’s good enough for Stephen Fry…”

“This is so cool!” I gush, giving Keith another hug.

“Come on, stand next to your picture!” Charlotte says, getting out her phone to take a picture.

“Umm…” I giggle. “Which one’s you and which one’s me again?”

“I told you!” Charlotte chides her boyfriend, who simply shrugs.

“I think Jamie’s 4th from left,” Keith says. Smiling, I crouch down as far as my body will allow and smile as Charlotte takes photo after photo of me next to my (highly flattering!) portrait.

“Come on,” Charlotte says, helping me into the back of the cab. “We’ve got extra soft seats in the back, especially so you don’t feel, you know, ‘uncomfortable’.”

“And I trust we’re not going anywhere near any speed bumps?” I ask, sitting down and fastening my seatbelt.

“Of course,” Keith says, getting in the driver’s seat and adopting a very stereotypical cockney accent. “Where to, loves?”

“Doctor’s clinic, please,” I answer in as posh an accent as I can manage.

“God, I’ve missed you this last week,” Charlotte sighs, resting her head on my shoulder.

“You knew where I was,” I joke. “Where were you anyway, work?”

“Work, and getting this car fixed up,” Charlotte explains. “Actually fixed a bit of the engine myself!”

“I assume by that you mean ‘tinkered with the engine a little and had a photoshoot of you in greasy overalls’?” I tease.

“You know me so well,” Charlotte sighs. “And I’m well aware it was my fault I didn’t see you this last week. That’s why I may have started taking driving lessons!”

“Oh my god!” I squeak. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah,” Charlotte says smugly. “Well, I’m the only Angel who DOESN’T have a driving licence, despite the fact that I have a boyfriend who loves chauffeuring me around everywhere!”

“Most of the time,” Keith interjects.

“Figured it was just time I grew up,” Charlotte says. “Just wait until I pass my test, there’ll be no getting rid of me!” I giggle and give my BFF a quick hug as we speed off into the centre of London.

When I arrive at the posh clinic, I’m unsurprised to find the film crew already there (though obviously, they WON’T be in the actual examination room). Much to my delight, my counsellor is also present, who greets me with a quick hug.

“Jamie!” Beverly says happily. “You’re looking great! Are you feeling okay now you’re back on your feet?”

“Much, much better than okay,” I say, blinking tears out of my eyes. “Yes, it’s still sore and stitched up like a ratty old pair of jeans, but I’m so, so glad I had it done.”

“I’m so pleased for you,” Beverly says. “Are you still okay to see me tomorrow?”

“Of course!” I say happily, giving the middle-aged woman another hug before heading into my appointment, Charlotte tagging along for moral support.

The ‘examination’ is a thoroughly unpleasant experience at first, not helped by the fact the area being examined is still stitched, swollen and sore. Fortunately, Charlotte holds my hand throughout the experience, and before too long, the examination is over and I’m free to pull my panties up and head home.

“I just need to use the loo,” Charlotte announces, leaving me alone with Keith in the spacious waiting area (the camera crew have also gone home, having captured all the footage they need).

“I LOVE the Angelmobile,” I say with a wide smile.

“Thanks,” Keith replies. “I know I’m always going to be playing second fiddle to Charlie in this relationship, I figure I can either whine and sulk about it like Hannah’s ex, or I can, you know, do something productive.”

“Speaking of exes...” I say, taking a deep breath. “I got a message from Paul Gould the other day.” I giggle as Keith sighs and rolls his eyes.

“What does that idiot want?” The tall man asks.

“He just wanted to say ‘get well soon’,” I reply. “Bit of an impersonal message after not speaking to me for over a year, but hey ho.”

“What did you say back to him?” Keith asks, clearly concerned.

“Nothing,” I say smugly. “Nothing at all.”

“Good on you!” Keith enthuses, squeezing my hand for support. “You don’t need him, Jamie. I know you’ll find someone worthy of you soon.”

“I, um, kinda already have,” I say with a smile, which fades when Keith suddenly pulls his hand away from mine and stares at me with what can only be described as disappointment in his eyes.

“Who?” Keith asks.

“Mister Milton,” I answer dreamily. Keith smiles at the revelation, but I can’t help but detect a twinge of sadness in his smile.

“At least I can be sure he’ll make you happy,” Keith says. “Though if he ever hurts you, you let me know and I’ll hurt him!”

“Hehe,” I giggle. “Is that not politically incorrect?”

“He’s the one who chose to be a man,” Keith states. “If he treats you wrong, he knows the consequences!” I giggle and give Keith a quick hug as Charlotte returns from the restroom.

“Has something happened I need to know about?” Charlotte asks.

“Other than Jamie getting a new boyfriend? Not really…” Keith jokes, earning himself a playful elbow in the ribs.

“Oh my god!” Charlotte squeaks, giving me a big hug. “Who? No, wait, don’t tell me, let me guess- Stuart, right?” I smile and nod, earning another hug from Charlotte. “I KNEW you two were perfect for each other!”

“He’s gonna be meeting us at home,” I say happily. “Figured we’d have a double coffee date?”

“Screw that!” Charlotte exclaims. “Keith, give him a call, we’ll pick him up and go somewhere for lunch!” Keith dutifully obeys, calling my favourite transman as I try to calm Charlotte down.

“I, um, need to go home to dilate,” I whisper to Charlotte, whose eyes go wide.

“Oh god,” my BFF says. “Sorry! You know I kinda get carried away, and this is big news…”

“No, believe me, I want to go out just as badly as you do…” I moan.

“Then go home, do your thing and we’ll all go out for a late lunch!” Charlotte insists. Knowing that I’m not going to win this argument, I roll my eyes and nod.

Sure enough, we pick up Stuart on the way home, and I delight my excited BFF by making out with Stuart all the way home! After announcing my new relationship status to my parents- who are thrilled, as they’ve always liked Stuart- we take the ‘next step’ and update Facebook, gaining well over a hundred likes each in the space of a few minutes, especially after I make a point of typing ‘for real this time’ in the comments. Unsurprisingly, Hannah was the first to ‘like’ that comment! After I dilate- which I allow Stuart to be present for, a decision the squeamish boy quickly regrets- the four of us head to a posh bistro in the centre of London for lunch.

“This is so great,” Charlotte sighs happily. “The four of us out like this…”

“It is,” Stuart agrees, gently squeezing my hand. “I’m so glad I met you. ALL of you, but especially my favourite girl!” I can’t help but grin and give Stuart a quick kiss. “That’s why today, I made an appointment with a doctor.”

“Umm… What?” I ask.

“Is- is this what I think it is?” Keith asks with a happy grin on his face.

“His waiting list is eighteen months,” Stuart explains. “But like I told Jamie, if I never have it done, I’ll live my life always wanting to have it done.” I gasp and clamp my hands to my mouth as I realise what Stuart’s saying.

“Oh my god!” I exclaim. “Are- are you-“

“-Are you…” Charlotte continues. “Are- are you having a penis grafted onto you?”

“The technical term is ‘phalloplasty’,” Stuart says smugly. “And yes, yes I am.” I can’t help but squeak happily and tightly hug my new boyfriend.

“This is co cool,” Keith says. “You’re finally gonna be who you always wanted to be. Both of you.”

“And you’re gonna be who you wanted to be together!” Charlotte beams.

And we are. Five years ago I’d never have dreamed that one day I’d have surgery to turn me into an anatomical female, yet here I sit now, and I can’t imagine my life taking any other direction. Everything about me feels so right, especially the fingers that are linked with those of a man I truly, truly love. He’s gonna need my support over the next 2 years as he embarks on his special journey, just as I needed his support on mine, but anything he needs, I’ll happily provide. I’m so blessed that I have everything I want in my life. I have Stuart. I have my vagina. I have my BFF, my other friends, and a family who loves me.

And yet, as I stare across the table at Keith, and I remember the message I received from Paul I can’t help but wonder about what I might have had instead…