I left my balls in Montreal

Mistress Rosamond bids adieu


I often wonder why Tony Bennett thinks it is such a big hairy ass deal to have left his heart in San Francisco. I left something much more treasured and intimate in la belle province and you don’t hear me going on about it!

Well, except for now that is…. You see, dear breathless readers, this is to be our last column together, our last squishy tender little moment of bliss. I’m afraid I am opening a new mega branch of the Kink Klinik in the south of France. My latest market survey indicates there is such a demand for our services over there.

Fear not, however, after a brief reconnaissance journey I shall return to Vancouver to continue my good works in the world of beauty. I know how difficult it would be for you all to have to live without me!

Anyhoo, enough about me, back to me.

I was extremely elated at the thought of finally being put together with the right sexual equipment. After 29 years–oh wait, that can’t be correct, that’s how old I am now! Ahem, after many long years of making do with what I had, I could now begin to do it the way I wanted.

The technique that was used to help me on my way to Pussy Power and ultimate glory is called a penile inversion. That’s right, Mr Winkie takes a trip to Inside Outie Land! The penis tip becomes a clitoris, the shaft, a vagina. It’s like magic, really. Very, very painful magic.

Due to my unutterable daintiness, I had a terrible allergic reaction to the anesthetic and almost died. I woke up, expecting to be overtaken with rapture at finally having my perfect pussy, only to be racked with ghastly fits of coughing.

In my groggy, allergic state, I was in no mood to consider the coughing/vaginal connection. I coughed out every stitch and suture! My entire operation had to be redone the very next day.

Yes, sometimes it hurts to be a woman.

You see, I had thought it was painful removing all those pesky scrotal hairs prior to the surgery. Piffle! Just try coughing your twat out!

Ooops, I mean, the post-surgery recuperative period can be extremely trying. That’s what I meant to say, really.

One thing that helped to speed along my recovery was a stay in a beautiful mansion in Montreal. I felt like Cinderella, home from the ball removal…

My roommate at the manse was also recovering from gender bendering. He spent the first four days of our recovery time sobbing and saying what a terrible mistake he’d made. My dears! I must say that I couldn’t have agreed more! Sometimes a cross-dressing fantasy can go so terribly, tragically wrong.

 

Of course, my roommate’s despair was not helped along by the unbearable lightness of my being. Despite the constant pain and agony, I was giddy with delight. Of course, I never quite understood how six-and-a-half inches of penis turns into four inches of vagina, but I cared not. Tra la!

I couldn’t use the new equipment in my personal downstairs dance hall for two months after surgery. During that time it was imperative to use the dildos to ensure proper healing. There were five of them, ranging in size from isn’t that a cute little thing, to oh my good Christly gawd in heaven, have mercy!

Luckily, I was required to take a couple of months off from my hectic lifestyle for recovery. Darlings, I wouldn’t have had time to work at a job. I had to spend several hours a day lying in bed, moaning softly and eating M&M’s.

The rest of the time was spent trying to figure out what size of thing to insert next. The procedure had to be done five times a day! For 15 minutes at a time!

I could never remember if it was oh my gawd it’s Donkey Kong time, or women don’t really care about size time. Very confusing, and the M&M’s kept getting stuck to the sheets.

The thing is, once one goes to the trouble, time and expense to have this particular surgery, it is extremely important to do the follow-up. I mean, use it or lose it! And really, it is so delightful to finally be in the body you always wanted. Why not relish every second of it? Life is short! Death is long! Have fun! I have spoken.

And now, my dainty ones, it is time for me to bid you adieu. I must begin preparations for the fabulous French Klinik la Kink. I will be thinking of you all, always, and hoping that you find your way on the path to ultimate beauty and fulfillment. Toodle-oo for now.

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Culture, Vancouver

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