A vulvectomy dress, for those unaware of the custom, is a beautiful white dress split down the front from the navel and cut away from the crouch so that, when worn, the vulva is clearly visible. This is intended to represent purity, innocence and chastity but also gives the cutters ready access to the young womans genitals after the service.

Picking out a vulvectomy dress is a great bonding experience between mother an daughter. The big choice is between a dress that reveals the breasts and one that just reveals the vulva. Of course you keep your pants on when choosing the dress so you don't get the full effect when looking in the mirror. At the final shop when we'd selected a beautiful high neck dress that showed of my figure and thighs to perfection my mother looked at me so proud and said I was beautiful. Then she leaned forward and drew two little semi-circles on the front of my pants saying "chop-chop" and smiled broadly. Thats when I realised what this was really all about. On the way home, with the dress in the back of the car, I kept my hand on my crouch.

The day after I got my final high school results, we started getting ready for the ceremony. At this time of year the hair dressers in town put up screens at the back of their shop and start offering to shave and wax the pubic region. I had an appointment on the morning of the event, booked months in advance, so there would be no danger of any unsightly stubble. After my genitals were shaved I slipped on a loose tracksuit bottom and had my hair and make up done in the main shop. Then we headed over to the ceremony.

There were about 30 young ladies going through the ceremony with me. We all congregated in the vestibule with our mothers, getting stripped off and into our vulvectomy dresses. Mothers fussed around getting their daughters looking perfect, tweaking hair cuts and getting the ladies to part their genitals' outer lips.

For the procession into the ceremony I was to stand next to my friend Susan, who was having her nipples cut off as well as her genitals. She was in a beautiful bustles dress which supported the underside of her breasts pushing the nipples out for the cutter. Several of the ladies became a little tearful after their mothers headed of to the ceremony but I think we had come to terms with what was to happen.

We were all lined up by various organisers, handed little matching white posies and then, on a musical quo marched into the hall. It might seem strange to happily march into a hall full of half the town with your genitals nakedly on display but it didn't feel like it. Perhaps is was because of how many of us there were doing it all together, perhaps it was because I'd been in that audience a few times before when the daughters of family friends stood where I did.

All of the ladies for whom the ceremony was in honor sat together at the front. There followed a couple of songs and readings then we all filed out again. As I stood up I remembered my moms words "your vulva will close when your sitting down. When you get up at the end try to flip it open again!". With a quick surreptitious movement I managed to get my inner labia into position for their last decorative duty.

We filed out of the back of the hall and the large doors closed behind us. The woman clearly in charge of organisation gestured us to sit on the rows of padded benches provided. "There are 30 of you" she said "and five cutting teams, so you will have to be a little patient". Helpers were handing out unmarked white envelopes. The organiser called out "open your envelop, it contains a number, please come up when your number is called". I opened mine, number 6, I'd be in the second wave. Susan had number 8, we'd be going up together.

It seemed like an age till a young blond lady appeared calling out for number 6. As I put my hand up and started to stand she rushed over to support me. "Hold on to my arm" she said reassuringly, everyone feels a bit faint at this point. I was lead into a clean bright room with big windows. There was a little fountain in one corner and a gentle sent filled the air. I was gestured to a chair and asked to sit down. The cutter, another young lady, said "Open your legs as far as you can dear", as I did so the dress rolled completely of my legs. A couple of restraints were clipped in place to prevent me wriggling. The cutter smiled at me, "It's nearly over, I'm just going to clip out your clit and trim your labia and it will all be done". I nodded and bit my lip. The pain was incredible.

After it was all over I was helped out onto a wheel chair and taken out to where my parents were waiting to take me to my after vulvectomy party.