Finally, The True Story

I lost my “Maleness”, the complete package, way back in 1968. Since that time I have made up an awful lot of fantasies about this incident, one of which I even submitted here, through this forum. I somehow enjoy doing that, simply because it allows me to build a much more believable situation within which I can feel more comfortable and a lot less responsible for the outcome. In actuality, it was mostly my fault and resulted from a combination of pride, stupidity and youthful arrogance.

In late 1967, I enlisted in the US Navy, graduated boot camp at Great Lakes, then went on to complete my training in advanced electronics and communication systems. In my mind, I had managed to enlist in one of the higher mental groups, completed all of my schooling at college level and aced nearly all of the tests that were thrown my way in the process. I was convinced that I was ready and able to take on the whole world – and win.

I never considered myself to be arrogant or belligerent, I was one of those who would sit back and listen. I would often listen to those who had traveled before me, so that I could glean information, based on their mistakes, then correct those actions before I got personally involved. I particularly enjoyed listening to stories about overseas travel.

The ship that I was ultimately assigned to, a WWII vintage destroyer, was based out of Long Beach California, and had deployed to the Western Pacific for duty in Viet Nam, shortly before I received my orders. I was then flown to the Philippines and taken to meet my ship. Since my ship was currently assigned duty on the Viet Nam gun line, providing gunfire support to our ground troops, I had to make the final portion of that trip aboard one of our refueling tankers, and transferred to my ship as they refueled underway. It made for a very interesting trip.

Once aboard my ship, I quickly settled into my own personal routine, and in the evenings, I would spend countless hours listening to my shipmate’s stories about foreign ports. My ears really perked up when I hear that we would be spending a lot of time at the Naval Base at Subic Bay. My father had served in the Philippines during WWII, as a paratrooper, and I had grown up listening to his war stories about these islands. That was also when I first started hearing stories about the infamous “Butterfly Knife”. Now keep in mind that the stories I was hearing were also obviously being told by some of the older sailors who were merely trying to impress the young troops.

About a month later, it finally happened. We were detached from gun line duty and were headed to Subic for some R & R and a bit of maintenance for the ship. As we entered port, I could already smell the liquor being poured so freely at the local bars, and I spotted an ungodly number of really beautiful girls waiting for us to get the ship tied up at the pier. I was in 7th heaven by the time they finally announced “Liberty Call” and quickly made tracks for dry land.

As I wondered about town, I began remembering Dad’s stories about how willing these people had been, sexually, during the war. Then let my thoughts drift to similar stories I heard aboard ship concerning today’s people. I figured I needed a drink, then I needed to get laid, but not necessarily in that order, so I headed straight for the source of that friendly liquor smell I had sensed coming into port.

One of the first establishments I came across that looked promising was extremely friendly. The girls were literally beautiful and extremely willing to go with anything I wanted. About an hour later, I found that these girls weren’t really all they appeared to be. Most of them were guys. They were called “Benni Boys”, and they were in all actuality nothing more than crossdressing Gays and Transsexuals who had gone into prostitution as a means of making a living.

Now I have never had anything against Gays, Crossdressers or Trans people. As a matter of fact, I spent a good portion of my childhood in that same frame of mind. Yes, I was a childhood crossdresser, and I loved every minute of it, secretly praying that I could somehow magically transform overnight and wake up the next morning as a girl. I wanted so desperately to be able to show Mom and Dad just how pretty and ladylike I could be, if only I had been given the opportunity.

No, I had no problems with these guys/girls at all, I could actually identify with them, and their feelings. After all I had been one of them, hadn’t I? But now, I was grown and determined to put all of that behind me forever. At the same time, I didn’t want to insult these guys/girls, so I had a few drinks with them, laughed a bit, then finally left that bar and headed quietly down the street.

I had only walked past a few store fronts when I came across another bar that looked equally inviting, and noticed that a few of my shipmates were also inside having fun. I went in, joined the group and had a proverbial ball until time for curfew. As we headed back to the ship, my mind was still racing. I was thinking about that first bar and the Benni Boys I had left behind. I just knew deep in my heart that I would soon end up taking one of them home for the evening before we got out of port. Unfortunately that didn’t happen.

When we got back to the ship, we were informed that we would be getting underway the following morning. The ship that had relieved us on the gun line had suffered a very serious incident in which five or six members of their crew had been killed in an accidental explosion aboard ship. Their forward gun mount had suffered what is called an “In Bore Explosion”, which means that the bullet they were firing, along with the gun powder they were using actually exploded as the gun’s breech was closed, or in the process of closing. Although I never heard the results of the investigation as to what happened, I would have to guess that they simply fired too many rounds too fast, and didn’t let the barrel cool down between shots. As many of you know, when a gun is fired repeatedly, the barrel and breech become hotter and hotter with each round fired. Given the proper situation, the barrel can actually get hot enough to actually begin melting. With heat developing within this temperature range, it’s obvious that the temperatures were high enough to also set off the explosive charges.

As a result of this accident, we spent the next two weeks back on gun line duty. During our last go around with this assignment, we had fired over 5,000 rounds in a 30 day period. It was quite noisy, but we learned to sleep through it.

That kind of schedule is what causes me to think the explosion abroad the other ship was simply a matter of doing too much too quickly. Figure in our case, that would translate to 346 rounds in each 24 hour period of available firing time, or 14.4 shots per hour, or one shot every 4 minutes, average. But now we are getting away from our story.

Two and a half weeks later, we finally returned to Subic, and I headed directly for the bar. On the way, I decided I should probably eat first, so I stopped at a different bar, right outside the main gate, and ordered dinner. As I ate, I was soon joined by one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen in my life. Long black flowing hair that came down past her waist and a figure that most American girls would literally die for.

As we ate, she explained that she was not looking to take guys home, she was only interested in hustling drinks, trying to save enough money to come to the States and get into nursing school. All the time, my hormones are screaming that I just have to get this piece of ass. So I began working my charms on her, and within the next week and a half, I had her home address, and an invite to her place for supper.

I just knew in my heart of hearts that the omen’s were wrong for me to make that trip. On the way, a street urchin, locally referred to as a “Snatcher”, snagged my wristwatch and tore my uniform. Instead of turning around, and finding a way to apologize later, I began thinking that this would give me a perfect excuse to take off at least part of my uniform once I reached her place. Can’t fix it while I am wearing it.

Then I realized that using this approach would only allow me to take off my jumper, it wouldn’t do a thing about my pants. So I quietly reached down and ripped out one of the side seams of my trousers, thinking I would explain that as a result of the struggle to save my watch. Being somewhat satisfied with my plan of attack, I also reached down and tore my jockies and T-Shirt too. Now I could get completely naked legitimately. All I needed now was to find a way to get her into the same condition. I was to find that such an idea would be harder to do than I thought.

As I walked into her house, I quickly explained what had happened, and told her I needed to get these things fixed before I went back to the base, otherwise I would be in big trouble. I also knew that the deadline for curfew was only about four hours away, and hand sewing would take at least five or six hours to finish. Now I knew I was with her for the entire evening.

She insisted we eat before doing anything about the uniform, and I readily agreed, since this would eat up the much needed time between now and curfew. As we ate, she explained that she had moved here from one of the outlying provinces to get the money needed for her schooling. She was from a large family and had her sister came to visit on a regular basis. As a matter of fact, her sister had only returned home that very afternoon, but would be back within a week. Consequently she had also left some of her clothes so that she would not need to carry so much on her trip.

After supper, I was handed one of her sister’s dresses to wear while my uniform was being worked on. Given my past excursions into crossdressing, I rather quickly began stripping and getting ready to crawl into the dress. As soon as my torn underwear became noticeable, I found myself being handed a two piece bathing suit as well. I gladly got into that, then the dress. And yes I put on both top and bottom.

Once dressed, I glanced over at my beautiful hostess and noticed a wicked grin on her face. As the grin turned into a warm pleasant smile, her only words were “You like?” I couldn’t lie to her, so I told her that I found the fit and feel of these clothes to be very pleasant. To my dismay, I had reached a point of comfort I never realized possible, when suddenly I was informed that my uniform was finished. The bad part is that I still had an hour to go before curfew. Very reluctantly, I began to change when my hormonal excitement began to become extremely visible. We laughed about my predicament for a few minutes, then I finished dressing. As I returned to the ship, I knew deep down that I was developing a case and a half of blue balls. I needed some pussy and I needed it quick.

Over the course of the next two weeks, we began seeing more and more of each other at the restaurant and even managed to set up a date for swimming. When the time for the swim date rolled around, we jumped on a ferry and headed to a recreation island that the Navy ran, and which also provided a lot of nice little secluded areas, should we wish to take advantage of them.

Once we reached the island, we headed directly for the changing rooms and got into our bathing suits. My jaw must have bounced off the sand at least six times when she walked out of that change room. She was wearing the exact same bathing suit she had me wear as she worked on my uniform. Once she saw the expression on my face, she commented, “You Like?” I think my smile answered her question, that and the growing bulge I was having problems trying to hide.

As the day progressed, I kept coming back to one point in the conversation, the bathing suit she was wearing. I had to openly admit that it looked a lot better on her, since she had all the right curves in all the right places, which I didn’t. That s also when I began to finally realize that I was falling in love.

Thinking back, I often wonder if it was actually love I was feeling, or that I was beginning to formulate a plan to get back into her clothes whenever I wanted. There was just something about the idea of wearing the very same clothes she wore that I found totally intoxicating.

As the day wore on, we became separated on one occasion. Actually, I had found a way to ditch her for a few minutes and sneaked into a small inlet at the side of the swimming area. Before I knew it, she poked her head around the corner and stood there smiling at me, as I was beating the hell out of my manhood, seeking relief. As I began to focus and realize that she was watching, I began shooting one of the most satisfying loads of my life. She smiled and told me that if I keep beating myself so hard, I would swell up and never be able to fit into her bathing suit again. At least not properly.

We laughed for a few minutes, as she took a seat beside me and began picking up water in her hand and gently pouring it over me so I could clean up a bit. Once this was done, we settled in for a bit of sun bathing, letting the warm tropic sun both warm and dry us.

At sunset we headed back to the changing area, where she stopped and pulled a large shirt style cover up from her bag and asked me to wait for a second. As I waited, she put on the cover up, then quickly removed her bikini and handed it to me. As I took hold of the offering, she said, “You wear now?”

I was embarrassed as hell, but I was also so turned on I couldn’t contain myself. Half slobbering and half simply salivating, I said – “Hell Yes”. I literally ran to the change room and quickly got into her bikini, then into my own clothes. On the ferry ride back to the base, she kept feeling the back of my shirt and pants to make sure I was indeed wearing her suit.

When the ferry pulled up to the pier, she quickly disappeared and so I went hunting for her. The last I saw of her that evening, she was about three blocks ahead of me, running out the main gate of the base. I tried to follow, but was stopped by the gate guard and warned that curfew would be in about 15 minutes. In other words, I could not leave the base that evening.

Now, in a very somber mood, I returned to the ship, showered and went to bed. The next morning, we were underway again for local ops and would not return for another two weeks.

Two weeks that felt more like two years later, we pulled back in, and as soon as possible I headed to her house to find out why she had ran. I passed a lot of familiar stores and alleys when suddenly someone jumped out and grabbed me from behind. He was only a bit bigger than I, but quite a bit stronger, and he also had the leverage advantage.

About that same time, a face appeared in front of me that I recognized. It was that of her sister. I had seen a few of her photographs earlier. She was screaming and yelling at me in a language I still didn’t understand. Then I found myself being dragged well into the alleyway and into a darkened corner between buildings. All the time hearing this woman yelling and cursing at me.

Suddenly I noticed some new movement out of the corner of my eye. I saw something black and shiny, then a small sun glint off of a piece of shiny silver metal. As I began to try identifying what I saw, I heard this same woman tell me, in extremely clear and understandable English, “We see if it fits you now”. I was to find out later that the bikini had been a gift from her to her sister, my girlfriend, on her 18th birthday.

My next memory was looking down to see the front of my uniform turning a very bright red, as I collapsed into a pool of my own blood. I woke up three days later, in the Navy Hospital, with such a bulky bandage on my groin that I had no idea what was going on. Apparently, one of the shop owners had heard the noise in the alley and called the shore patrol. They in turn called an ambulance and rushed me into surgery.

As I began trying to get things worked out in my mind as to what had happened, my doctor walked in and said “Another two or three minutes and you would be dead, young lady.” At that point, it all started to come together through the fog in my head, and I reached down to find that I had been cut deeply, and professionally. I had been totally nullified.

As I talked with the doctor, I filed my report with the Navy as to what had happened. The sister was arrested the following day, but only given a 6 month jail term. With news of the sister’s arrest, my girlfriend ran away and has never been found since.

The medical follow up choices I was given, all included being separated from the Navy. One choice, in particular, caught my attention though. The doctor explained that, although SRS was not practiced or authorized through the military, he could probably start me on Hormone therapy, which would in turn allow me to develop many feminine characteristics, such as larger breasts and wider hips. I began to wonder . . . . . . . . . .