by P R Ellis
He gently took hold of her penis and testicles in his latex-covered hand. Jasmine’s muscles stiffened and a memory flashed through her mind. Another man wearing surgical gloves had grabbed her genitals, a lot more roughly - the knife-wielding tranny-killer who she had been a decoy for and would have become a victim of if Tom Shepherd hadn’t rescued her in time. That memory was still all too fresh after just a few months. She tried to push it from her mind.
Only one other person had ever touched her down there - Angela. It had been a pleasure to explore each other’s bodies, but while they made love Jasmine had often imagined herself in Angela’s position: the one who stroked the penis, the one with the breasts, the one who was penetrated. That had always seemed so much more pleasurable and satisfying than what she was actually doing.
‘I’ll have to give you a shave,’ the nurse broke into Jasmine’s brief reverie.
‘What?’
‘The surgeon won’t want hairs getting in the way when he sews you up.’
‘Oh, no, I suppose not.’ Jasmine was beyond embarrassment now. Whatever was happening “down below” wasn’t part of her. She didn’t look as the nurse got busy with a safety razor, but she felt his skilled movements swiftly removing the hairs from her scrotum. He washed off the soap and patted her dry with a towel before wiping her whole groin area with a cold liquid.
‘I’m just preparing you for the local anaesthetic now,’ he said as the curtain parted again and they were joined by a young woman in scrubs. She also carried a tray and a clipboard which she laid on the table. She glanced at the notes then looked at Jasmine.
‘Can you please confirm your name, address and date of birth before I give you the local anaesthetic?’
Jasmine recited the information and then lay her head flat on the pillow so that she couldn’t see what was happening. Needles didn’t bother her as much as knives, but she had no wish to watch the proceedings. She thought about Honey and Xristal. How many times had they each submitted to procedures like this when they had their numerous cosmetic alterations? Jasmine was forced to admit to herself that Honey was correct about one thing. Both she and Honey were both redesigning their own bodies to match their self-image. But there the similarities ended. For Jasmine this operation was essential if she was to live as the woman she believed herself to be. For Honey and Xristal it had been an option to achieve the appearance they desired.
There was a sudden, sharp pain as the needle entered, but it was soon over. The anaesthetist straightened up and pulled Jasmine’s gown back down over her groin. ‘Just lie still. You should find your lower abdomen becoming numb. We’ll come and collect you in a few minutes.’ She and the male nurse gathered up their instruments and left her in the seclusion of the curtained-off bed. There was the sound of movement and quiet conversation in the ward but Jasmine lay still, eyes closed, trying to take her mind off what was happening.
After what seemed like only a couple of minutes, the curtains were suddenly drawn back and she was surrounded by people. A trolley was pushed alongside her bed. ‘Can you move onto the trolley please, Jasmine?’ a voice said. ‘We’ll help you if the local has made it difficult for you.’
Jasmine used her arms and heels to push herself across the bed and onto the trolley. Her middle felt like a dead weight rather than part of her. She let herself flop down and lay flat.
‘Good. Right, here we go, Jasmine. It’ll soon be all over,’ the same voice said. The trolley started to move and Jasmine watched the ceiling tiles and lights pass over her. They went through a number of doors until they entered a different room. The chandelier of operating lights hung over her. The bearded surgeon, now with a mask covering his mouth, looked down at her.
‘Hello, Jasmine. Are you feeling OK?’ Jasmine nodded unable to find her voice. ‘Good. We’ll make a start. You won’t feel a thing and it’ll be all over in a few minutes.’
He moved away leaving Jasmine staring at the ceiling, dark above the low hanging light. A sheet was laid over her and clipped to a frame placed across her abdomen so she couldn’t see anything going on beyond. She felt her legs being moved apart, but the grip on her thighs was diffuse and leaden. The doctors and nurses mumbled to each other but Jasmine couldn’t follow what was being said. It was as if the surgical team was operating on someone else and she just happened to be present as a bystander. She lay there with her mind surprisingly empty. Perhaps the anaesthetic was dulling her thoughts too.
Movements “down below” came to her as if from behind a door in an adjacent room and she didn’t feel the scalpel. She wasn’t even sure when the first cut was made. Then a gentle tug on a point somewhere below her navel brought her back to the moment. Was that what the surgeon had referred to – the cutting of a sperm duct? It hit her then. The moment she had longed for when she would cease to be a man - it was happening. A second tug. It was done. The process was not finished, she would not be a complete woman with vagina and breasts for perhaps years, but the symbol of the male, the erect phallus, no longer applied to her.
It wasn’t much longer before she was being wheeled back along the corridors. She still felt an emptiness below her waist, the anaesthetic still doing its job. They reached the ward and her bed. ‘We’ll give you some help back onto the bed,’ a voice said. There were hands under her shoulder and legs, lifting. She pushed against the trolley with her hands, guiding herself back to the mattress. She was laid down gently, sheets pulled over her, the curtains drawn.
‘It will be a while before the anaesthetic wears off,’ the voice said. Jasmine realised it was the male nurse speaking. ‘Keep still if you can. There is quite a lot of dressing between your legs. It is important not to rupture the stitches. You don’t want a ball dropping out do you?’ The thought horrified Jasmine.
‘If you start to feel pain, ask one of us for medication,’ he continued. ‘It will be sore for a few days. You must take things gently, particularly for the first twenty-four hours. No driving and stay sitting if you can.’
Jasmine had been hearing his voice without really listening. ‘What about going to the loo?’ she asked.
‘That’s OK. Go in your normal way. You still have a penis and the dressing won’t be in the way.’ Did he think she thought she had had the penis off too? Jasmine hoped she didn’t look that daft. ‘Just rest until the anaesthetic wears off. Then you can think about getting dressed, but there’s no hurry.’
‘Thanks.’
‘When is your lift arriving?’
‘I told him about midday.’
‘Oh, plenty of time then. It’s only just ten-thirty. Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee, water?’
Jasmine thought she should be hungry as she hadn’t eaten for a long time, but the thought of eating or drinking didn’t appeal. ‘Just a water, please.’
‘OK.’ The nurse left, leaving Jasmine alone in her curtained space. She tried to work out what her emotions were. . The anxiety of the night before had drained away and now she just felt sleepy. Instead there was also relief and pleasure. Relief that the operation was behind her, for now at least, and pleasure that she had made the first step on her surgical journey. There was also pride that she had achieved a life’s ambition, or part of it at least.
‘Hello, Jasmine. Are you OK?’
Jasmine opened her eyes. Had she been asleep? The surgeon was looking down at her.
‘Sorry, uh, I think I dropped off.’
‘That’s no problem. Make the most of the chance while you can. I was just passing and wanted to let you know that the biorchidectomy was carried out successfully. The synthetic replacements were fitted and I think we made a neat job of the sewing. How are you feeling?’
Jasmine had to think about her answer. Now she had woken up she felt thirsty and a bit hungry and she could feel her stomach and thighs again. And she was feeling sore. ‘I think the anaesthetic has worn off,’ she said.
‘That’s good. Do you have pain?’
‘Some.’
‘That
’s to be expected. I’ll ask a nurse to give you some Paracetamol. You can have something stronger if you like.’
‘No, Paracetamol will be fine, I hope.’
‘Good. Have something to eat as well.’
He left, and a few minutes later the curtains were swept back again and the male nurse appeared holding a tray with a couple of tablets in a small dish and a tumbler of water on it.
‘Here you are,’ he said putting the tray on the cupboard beside her, ‘and we’ll let you see the rest of the world now.’ He pulled the curtains open.
‘Is Jasmine Frame here?’ Jasmine recognised Viv’s voice. She twisted to see where he was and felt a twinge of pain in her groin.
‘Hi, I’m here,’ she croaked.
Viv came into view, a look of concern on his face. He hurried across the ward to her bedside. ‘Are you all right? Has it been done?’
Jasmine was surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice. She gave him a smile. ‘I’m fine, I think. I’ve been dozing. I’ve had the op.’
‘Don’t forget your tablets,’ the nurse said, leaving them to look after other patients.
‘I won’t, thanks.’ Jasmine tried to reach to the cupboard for the pills and water but again felt a stab of pain in her groin. She let out a soft yelp.
‘Oh, can I help?’ Viv said, leaning forward.
‘I’m a bit sore. Can you pass me the painkillers and the water please?’
Viv handed them to her and looked around for a chair while she popped the tablets into her mouth and washed them down. He sat down beside the bed. ‘So? How did it go?’
‘I didn’t see anything of it and didn’t feel much either, thank god.’
‘That’s good news. When can you leave?’
‘As soon as I like, I suppose. I think they were waiting for you to come before booting me out.’
‘Oh, am I late?’ Viv looked worried.
‘No, I told you midday and it must be that by now.’
‘Just gone,’ Viv said, glancing at his watch, ‘I got a bit held up on the M4. Traffic, you know.’
‘Yes, it’s always bad.’
‘Can I help you?’
‘Well, I suppose I had better get dressed.’ She rotated on her bottom so that her legs hung over the side of the bed and sat up feeling a little dizzy. ‘Can you pass me my case please, Viv? I hope nothing’s been nicked.’
Viv lifted the case onto the bed beside her. Jasmine flicked the lock and opened it up. Her clothes and handbag were all there. Jasmine looked in her handbag and checked her wallet and phone. ‘It’s all here,’ she said, relieved. ‘Can you pull the curtains round while I get dressed? It could take a while and I would prefer not to have an audience.’
Viv leapt up and dragged the curtains along their rails. Jasmine lifted the sheet off herself and pulled up the gown. The dressing in her groin was like an over-sized cod piece. ‘I don’t think I can get my knickers over that lot,’ she said, catching Viv turning away after a sneak peek.
‘Do you want me to go away?’ he asked.
‘No, stay, I may need some help,’ Jasmine said, pulling her skirt on over her head and fastening it at her waist. She pulled the gown over her head then quickly put her bra around her when she realised that Viv could see her bare and almost flat chest. She saw him watching, but his eyes didn’t show any signs of disgust or embarrassment. Once her enhancers were positioned in the cups, she pulled the T-shirt over her head. At last she felt respectable.
‘There,’ she said, ‘I don’t feel like a sad patient anymore.’
The male nurse’s head appeared between the curtains. ‘Are you leaving, Jasmine?’ he asked when he saw that she was dressed.
‘Yes, if I can get off this bed.’
Viv rushed to her side willingly giving her a helping hand.
‘No, don’t get onto your feet, just yet,’ the nurse said, ‘I’ll find a wheelchair to get you to your car.’ He disappeared again.
‘I think I’m decent, now,’ Jasmine said, ‘you can pull the curtains back.’
Viv jumped to her orders and once again she was revealed to the ward.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.
Jasmine examined herself. ‘Tender between the legs, but okay. Hungry.’
‘Oh, I don’t suppose you had breakfast, did you?’
‘No, and it’s been a long time since dinner yesterday.’
‘We’ll pick up some sandwiches on the way out and I’ll cook some real food when we get back home.’
‘Thanks.’ Jasmine was grateful for Viv’s attention. It gave her a warm feeling like being wrapped in a cosy blanket.
The nurse returned pushing a wheelchair. He and Viv helped Jasmine off the bed and into the chair with a minimum of winces and groans. ‘I feel like an old lady,’ Jasmine said, wriggling her bottom until she felt comfortable.
‘Not for long,’ Viv said.
‘Don’t forget to take it easy for today,’ the nurse said.
‘I don’t think I’ll argue with that,’ Jasmine replied, conscious of the soreness between her legs.
Viv began pushing her in the wheelchair, awkwardly dragging her case along as well. They went out of the ward, along the never-ending corridors, through a café where they stopped for Viv to pick up some sandwiches, and outside to the car which seemed to be a mile from the entrance.
‘Here we are,’ Viv said, as they stopped beside the Audi.
‘I’m glad I didn’t have to walk that distance,’ Jasmine said. Viv opened the door and carefully helped her out of the chair and into the soft leather car-seat.
‘This is much more comfortable than a wheelchair,’ Jasmine said, relaxing.
‘Well, you eat your sandwiches if you can, while I return the chair.’
He put Jasmine’s case in the boot and then went off with the wheelchair. She devoured one sandwich and was contemplating a second during the few minutes that he was gone.
‘Feeling OK?’ he said, as he got into the driving seat.’
‘Yes,’ Jasmine said, nodding.
‘Good. I don’t want you being sick in my posh car,’ Jasmine looked at him, suddenly worried that that might be exactly what could happen. She shouldn’t have gobbled up the sandwich so greedily. But Viv was grinning and Jasmine realised he had been kidding.
‘What will you do? Push me out onto the road?’
‘Just joking. But seriously, do you feel up to the journey?’
‘I’m fine. It was only a local anaesthetic, like having a tooth out.’
‘Hmm. A bit more serious than that, I think.’
‘Just two little lumps.’
‘Stop, you’re making me cringe.’
‘OK, I won’t say anything else. Just get us home.’
They were soon into the afternoon traffic and making their way to the M4. Jasmine was just allowing herself to drift off when she remembered she had turned off her phone. She hunted in her bag for it and switched it on. Moments later it gave an animated squawk.
‘What’s that?’ Viv asked.
‘It’s telling me I’ve got lots of messages.’
‘Who from?’
‘Uh, Angela, by the look of it; nearly all of them.’
‘What’s she saying? Oh, sorry, I expect they’re private.’ Viv glanced across at her then resumed his concentration on the road.
‘Not really, I’m just looking at them.’
There were more with similar questions and demands for answers. Jasmine thought she could imagine what had happened. She rang Angela’s number.
‘Jasmine! Where are you?’
‘Driving home.’
‘What! You’re driving? I thought…’
‘No. Viv’s driving.’
‘Viv, who?’
‘My neighbour, Viv. My friend, Viv.’
‘Oh. Tom rang m
e asking how you were. He thought I was meeting you at the hospital.’
‘That’s what I guessed had happened.’
‘He said you were having an op. The biorchidectomy. Well, he didn’t call it that, couldn’t remember the proper name.’
‘That’s it.’
‘Why didn’t you ask me to pick you up? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I was going to, Ange. In the pub on Friday.’
‘You didn’t. You dashed off. Luke said you had some business to attend to.’
‘I left because Luke and I didn’t get on.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Luke said some things I don’t want to repeat. I didn’t want you to see me upset.’
There was a brief silence at the other end of the line, before Angela asked in a quiet voice, ‘When will you be home, Jas?’
‘We’re almost at the motorway. Under an hour if there aren’t any hold ups.’
‘I’ll be there.’
There were other messages too. A couple from Tom, first sending his best wishes then confessing that he may have put his foot in it with Angela. Jasmine rang his number but it went straight to voicemail. She left a short message and then looked at the last remaining text. It was from Honey who simply hoped that the operation went well. Jasmine was surprised and pleased. Surprised because she hadn’t thought Honey would give her a second thought and pleased that someone else was wishing her well.
The comfortable leather seat and the quiet, smooth-running car lulled her into sleepiness. She dozed.
‘We’re back, Jasmine.’
Jasmine stirred and saw that they were indeed turning into the car park of their flats. Viv drew into his space. There was a car next to Jasmine’s old Fiesta - Angela’s.
Viv pulled on the handbrake, turned off the engine and got out of the car. He hurried around to the boot to get her case out and then to open Jasmine’s door. Jasmine slowly swung herself round so that both feet were flat on the ground. Viv placed a hand under her armpit and steadied her as she pushed herself upright.
‘Jas. Are you all right?’
Jasmine looked up to see Angela’s concerned face. She was hopping from side to side around Viv trying to get a clear view.