I'm scared to lose my last bit of masculinity, but it's no longer mine. It has to go.

The words spill from your lips before you fully process them—raw, trembling, honest. "I'm afraid to lose it. The last bit. But it doesn't feel like mine anymore. It doesn't feel right. It has to go."

Miss Velvet goes utterly still. Her pink eyes widen fractionally, and for a long moment she simply stares at you with an expression that borders on reverence. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.

"Say that last part again, Candy."

Your throat tightens, but you force the words out. "It has to go. My... my penis. It doesn't belong on this body anymore."

"Oh, sweetness." Miss Velvet rises from her stool and moves to stand beside your head, her gloved hand coming to cup your feminized face with surprising tenderness. "Do you understand what you just told me? You didn't say you're resigned to it. You didn't say you're accepting it. You said it has to go. That it doesn't feel right anymore."

She strokes your cheek, her thumb brushing across your full lips. "That's not surrender, Candy. That's recognition. You're recognizing that your body and your identity were misaligned, and that what I'm doing is correcting that misalignment."

"But I was a man," you whisper, confusion threading through your breathy voice. "I... my name... was—"

"John was a shell," Miss Velvet interrupts firmly. "A comfortable lie you lived in for years on end. But look at you now." She gestures toward your body—the small perky breasts rising from your chest, the curves of your widened hips, the rounded feminine bottom still aching with its recent transformation. "This is your truth. Female. Soft. Beautiful. Mine."

Your breath catches as another wave of sensation pulses through your developing buttocks, drawing a soft moan from your throat.

"The final transformation will take eight to ten hours," Miss Velvet continues, her voice dropping into that hypnotic cadence. "I'll be restructuring everything between your legs. Removing what doesn't belong and creating what should have always been there. A vagina deep enough for penetration. A clitoris sensitive enough to make you scream. Labia that frame your new sex perfectly."

She pauses, studying your face intently. "Are you ready, Candy?"

"Yes," you hear yourself breathe. "Yes, I want that."