Good bye

Special thanks to: My Wife My Daddy Dr. Omer Acar Ivy

Prologue

On July 8th of 2024 Violet H. Jordan underwent: Excision, excessive skin and sub cutaneous tissue Vaginoplasty for intersex state Perineoplasty Clitoroplasty for intersex state Amputation of penis; complete She worked with Dr. Omer Acar with the goal of achieving a shallow depth vagina.

Flaying It Out

I’ve wanted a pussy for a long time. My first conception of my queer self was a man with a cunt. I was 19 and didn’t know much about any of this. Had only heard of transsexuals as a debasement of the human condition. But there I was in art school draw ing crude self portraits - carving the cunt deep behind my flesh. I didn’t know what to call this - so I didn’t call it anything.

When I actually did call it some thing it was after being sexually assault ed. I told people I was a woman while rolling around with thoughts of sexual assault and falling in love flowing in and out of my blood. I don't like to fully put my desire to transition on him but I'm sure he played a role. He pressed the abstract of the female into my brain so deep I couldn't push it off any more. These feelings combined with the experience of falling in love with my now wife and created the environment for a woman to exist.

Clone A Willy Attempt Number 1 of 4. None were successful.

For years I played the game of loving my body as it was. Internalized that a cunt wasn't something I needed to be a woman. I thought I would nev er be able to achieve the cunt of my teenage dreams. Eventually positive thinking failed. I couldn’t self-love the unactualized hole in my crotch into something bearable.

The thing is: something in my body still felt the cunt I imagined at 19. The longer I was on hormones the more I felt it. I am now close to 8 years on hormones. At Year 5 I started feel ing it again. My whole arousal system seemed to change. For years my cock had slowly worked worse and worse for years but this was distinct. There was something deeper in my body that I could feel coming to the surface. After years of ignoring the cunt lying behind my cock. I started to really feel it. In the way I wanted to be touched. The ways someone would ex plore me. The way I gasped when the wrong spot was touched. I felt arousal deeper and deeper in my body. My orgasms changed. As my response changed the touches of my lovers turned deeper, inward. Into parts of my body that didn’t exist yet. I can't comfortably say my cunt makes me a woman. If anything, my experience tells me that the strongest men I know have cunts. I wrestled with that for a long time. I feared I wanted bottom surgery out of some desire to conform to cissexuality. At times I shamed myself for the way I had sex. The ways I let men use me. The ways I positioned myself for heterosexuality. The ways I showed a slice of what I was. I felt like it made me less of all the things I get to be. A wife. A transsexual. A dyke. A faggot. Slipping into cis sexuality scared me because it's the thing that has the ability to erase all of that. The more my body screamed for this - the more it begged - the more I realized it kind of didn't matter. I didn't get a Vulvoplasty with the intention to con form to cissexuality. I didn’t want the cishetero nightmare to haunt my body anymore. I just wanted the protrusion to find his way.

Violet H. Jordan’s cock, aged 29, passed away on July 8th, 2024, in Chicago, Illinois. Born on Septem ber 15, 1994, in Mobile, Alabama, Violet’s cock was known for his softness and his throatability. He is survived by his loving family, including Violet H. Jordan, Rose Hernandez, and Atlas Feigel. An end-of-life celebration in his honor was held on July 5, 2024, at the Feigel Residence, where family and friends gathered to remember his life and legacy. His memory will be cherished by all who knew him.

Lying in the hospital bed I felt three doctors’ hands on me. Hands on my thighs - adjusting the drains. Something removed. A sensation deep in my body. I yelped. I felt them dab bacitra cin on the exterior of my new body. At this moment I started to feel exactly how real this throbbing vacancy be tween my legs really was. I still had not looked at myself. I had only viewed the absence. Seen the location where something - was. Small twinges of pain clamored out from the emptiness. I could see the way the hospital under wear hugged me differently.

Epilouge

This whole experience has been like some kind of odd kink performance. Nitrile gloves. Everyone's hands on me. Needles. I'm left with mysterious pains. Two holes in my hands from IVs. Some scrapes and bruises. And of course there's the freshly stitched up wound in question. I've wanted this since before I was trans. I almost think I wanted this inde pendently of transition. I assumed I wouldn't live long enough to do this. I think about my 19 year old self that couldn't see past 20. When I look at myself now I see the self that was so impossible for him. Over the past few years I've become someone I can actually be proud of.

published by degenerates collective 2024