Today was "needle day." It's a day that comes around once every two weeks. We have this sexy little ritual that we do, my husband and I. It's much more fun than when I used to get my shot in the doctor's office. They were just too damn professional there for my own good. After Daddy gives me my injection, he swabs it with alcohol, and peels a Hello Kitty band-aid over the injection site. Then he pats me on the rump and says, "all done sissy." I turn around and give him a nice warm kiss. "Thank you, Daddy," I say. Maybe it's the hormones…but after I get my shot Daddy is always especially randy. I don't think he's even aware of it. But I invariably end up getting an injection of his sperm along with the estradiol valerate. 

I remember the first time that I got a hormone shot. What girl doesn't? I'd managed to find a doctor, now retired, who would administer the shot based on informed consent. This was harder 7 years ago than it is today. Informed consent meaning that I wouldn't have to go through the laborious—and in my case—totally unnecessary two-year counseling requirement, along with the one-year trial living-as-a-woman before I would be cleared for HRT. Instead, I simply had to demonstrate that I understood what I was getting myself into and that I was sure I wanted to go through with it. At that point, I was already living as a female and I knew without doubt that I wanted to transition. 

The doctor conducted  a short interview, asking me questions about my past, my sexual orientation, my reasons for wanting to transition, my state of mind, and my general health. He explained what I could expect in the way of physical changes and that up to a certain point the effects of the hormones would be reversible. But after six months or so, it would become more and more likely that the physical changes, including sterility, would be permanent. 

Then he asked me if I was ready to begin feminization.

"Yes," I said. 

I was somewhat intoxicated by the way he put it. "Are you ready to begin feminization." It sounded like something out of a sex-fantasy story. Out of one of the many sex-fantasies and stories I'd composed myself. I sat there in a kind of dumb trance. Then, suddenly, to my absolute astonishment, I realized that he meant right then! I'd just assumed that I'd have to return for another appointment. After waiting so long, I couldn't believe it was going to happen just like that. But it did. It was like a dream. We moved from his office to an examination room. I felt like I was floating. I sat on the examination table as he prepared the needle. And within a matter of a couple of minutes, the journey of a thousand miles was over. I had begun "feminization."