#i think at that point they probably hook me up to anmilking machine with all the other stupid girls they saved in a stall in their barn haha

[palepersonacoffee]

💜for the ask game?

💜 What is your favourite fantasy involving detrans/misgen?

My doctor decides I'd be be better off as a girl. Of course, if I knew that that's what they thought, I would switch doctors, so they don't tell me. Instead, they trick me into detransitioning- They tell me that my T levels are abnormally high, so I need to take a lower dose to get me back on track. After all, extra testosterone in the body turns into estradiol or something right? We don't want that. So they halve my dose indefinitely, and send me to a therapist that's in on the game. I think the therapist is kind of weird, but I don't want my mental health to take a turn because I'm sad about my lower dose.

The next appointment I go in to see the doctor, they tell me to take my shirt off. I ask why, and they gaslight me into thinking it's so they can check my health somehow- but they don't do it right away. I sit there on the table covering my chest up while they talk about the new drugs they're prescribing me. I don't think about anything but how humiliated I am- Whats Flibanserin? What's domperidone? What's Metoclopramide? What's topamax and why is the dose on that so high? I don't know and I'm not paying attention. I'm just desperately wishing I could put my shirt back on. When theyre finished listing off all the new medications I need to take, the brush my hands put of the way where I was covering up like it's the most normal thing in the world. They start squeezing my tits, massaging them, pinching and pulling and jiggling. I'm squeezing my eyes shut wishing it was over.

My next appointment, I'm really confused for some reason. Dizzy and stupid and dim. The therapist has been having me undress to talk about my trauma because somehow that's going to help me, so it's not weird that the doctor is having me undress now. They finger my sloppy cunt while they tell me that I need to stop taking testosterone entirely, it's very dangerous for me. I try to ask why but I'm so out of it, they just brush right over me. They put me on estrogen and I don't even notice. They tell me that to keep myself healthy, I need to start pumping my breasts. There's yucky stuff in there and I need to get it all out every night before I can start taking T again. They up my dose on everything. They tell me I can go ahead and leave my boxers and jeans and binder with them, I don't need them, they need to make sure I'm not using them to hurt myself. Oh, here's the breast pump I need btw. Start immediately.

My next appointment, I'm basically brainless. The therapist had to drop me off. Why was the therapist driving me around places again? What happened to all my boy clothes? Why are my tits so big? I can't remember. I don't have the brainpower to think about it for very long. The doctor doesn't even bother talking to me other than to tell me to strip. They press something big into my wet vagina, so big it's uncomfortable and I can't close my legs around it. Somehow, maybe using a medical glue, they make sure it stays inside me. Then they start fingerings my ass open, and do the same there. They tell me it's unsafe for me to be alone, but luckily there's a clinic near here that can help me. I need to be admitted ASAP. I look ridiculous when they finally let me stand up from where I was bent over the examination table, I can't even walk right. I waddle around, crab walking because I can't close my legs around the things inside me. They don't say anything when they pry my mouth open to stuff something inside there, either- I don't realize it, but it's my old boxers. They expect me to just stupidly take it without any explanation, and I do. They tell me to step into the closet over there and they shut the door behind me, locking me in until the end of their shift. I can hear them starting the same thing with another confused girl, but I cant make any noise to warn them. I wouldn't know what was even happening anyways. I can barely articulate my own name. When their shift is finally over, they take me to the clinic- It's just their house.