The day before

Hectic morning

I slept well and I had a plan for the day.

1. Bake a cake; the same one I baked for dad, but without the icing and marzipan.
2. Go for a run.
3. Do some Spanish practice, some piano practice, and some writing.
4. Go to Pride.

The cake took bloody hours. It went in at 10:30 and came out at 14:30. I was bloody starving!

The husband has asked whether I’d like to go for a drive. I felt obliged to say yes, because we have a lot to talk about: he’s suggested going to a gay sauna tomorrow!

I feel sick with nerves! And not the least excited.

Interview

The husband wasn’t there when I got to the house, so I lay down on the deck in the garden to try to calm down. The dog had other ideas and licked my head and face until I gave in and played with her.

After my husband got in and I’d had a coffee, I opened the conversation with him.

Occasionally I get emails sent via the blog site. I am hoping to build the wiki side of things so that there is a permanent and curated library of becoming and living life as a eunuch.

Is received an email from somebody who had fixed themselves. A lot of us do because there isn’t the support for transitioning to eunuch in the UK. This left me in a quandary: the wiki is for safe surgical routes. I don’t want to add details of DIY castration.

I discussed with this person via email about perhaps doing something unusual and maybe seeing an interview. They seemed ok with the idea.

Without revealing anything about this person, I discussed the idea of doing an interview with my husband. He was quite worried and came up with a number of objections:

1. I’m not a therapist: I was thinking of this as a structured, but informal chat, but hubby’s concerns but from there…
2. What happens if this unpacks a lot of serious issues for him? My husband has a background in therapy and the he’s concerned that training about the reasons for surgery and the fellows history could reactivate old traumas that I have no skill to handle…
3. What support has he got? So if I cannot support him, I would need to be certain that this fellow has got a support network of some kind…
4. Duty of care: if I’m going to potentially ask questions that might be triggering (and I wouldn’t know what might be triggering), then I have a Duty of Care towards this person…
5. I’m an amateur: there’s no getting away from this. I write a daily blog of my life, plus relevant investigative entries, and I maintain a factual wiki. I have never given it been involved in interviewing before. I have been in therapy plenty, but I have no professional qualifications…
6. There is a need to set boundaries: for both participants in the interview.

I was a little upset by all these comments – I expected him to have ideas or an interest, but I have to concede that he knows way more about this than I do – he does have a therapeutic background. Then it struck me…

…perhaps he could do the interview!

I asked my husband whether he’d consider it. “I’m not giving an answer now; I have to think about it.” he said.

So it’ll give him time to think about it.

If the husband does say that he’ll do it, I’ll talk to the guy who emailed me and ask how he’d feel about it.

Sauna rules

After discussing the possibility of interviewing somebody about their journey to eunuchood, we needed to talk about our plans for the sauna visit!

It felt excruciatingly awkward, bit we got through it and we did some l come up with something:

1. Kissing is ok.
2. Groping is ok.
3. Masturbation is ok.
4. Rimming is not ok.
5. Fucking is ok, but protection must be worn.
6. Exchanging telephone numbers is not allowed this time.
7. We won’t talk about it until a few days after the experience.
8. If either of us feels uncomfortable, it is ok to leave and not tell. We will arrange a place to rendezvous.
9. We are only allowed to fuck off get fucked once this visit to minimise the risk of infection
10. We can leave at anytime. If we do leave, we text the other to say so and we meet up at a predesignated rendezvous.

After, we ate and tried to leave the awkwardness behind for the rest of the evening.

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Sauna day

Stirrings

This morning I played fetch with the dog and we talked a bit more about the sauna; mostly the practicalities of getting there. We filled out the train due to inflexibility if travel, so I’m driving (which I hate really – I much prefer to travel by train because it’s so much more relaxing).

While we’re were talking, a familiar old friend started to wake up: I had stirrings down below!

The drive

We decided to drive so that we weren’t bound by train times. On the journey there conversation turned to the sauna again.

My husband clearly holds a lot of resentment that it is only now, because of my own needs, that this is even a possibility. He’d ruled it out of his mind. He was also feeling sad that our relationship was changing.

I tried to liken it to is he suddenly decided that he wanted to adopt. It was something that I wanted years ago and had resigned myself to never happening. I imagined that I would feel similar feelings to what he described.

I got that horribly wrong and he was greatly irritated. “It’s nothing like this,” he said, “I would never just drop something like that on you.” There was a terrible atmosphere for a while and I was thinking that we should just turn around and head back.

Inside

We had something light to eat, and then wandered around Bournemouth for an or two to let it go down. We were both very nervous.

Street listening to a very talented busker singing sixties classics, the husband finally said “let’s go” and we headed to the sauna.

There are several moments that standout for me:

1. The jacuzzi: OH MY GOD! THE BUBBLES ON MY SCROTAL VOID! I had major wood and I was very happy sitting there, wondering whether the bubbles sponge might be enough to bring me to orgasm, when …
2. Somebody started stroking my leg. This was nice, but also somewhat distracting. Ok, this was what I’d got in for, but if hoped to acclimatise a little before anything of the sort happened!
3. Panic! I was close to a panic attack, so I thanked the gentleman, and went to the bar for a moment to calm down and have a drink.
4. Moving around: there’s a lot of being up and moving around – the only truly comfortable space is the jacuzzi and the bar.
5. Dark rooms: ok, they’re not dark, and they have wipe down surfaces. I had a look, but I didn’t use any of them. L
6. Body image: I think the experience has been very good for both myself and my husband in regards to or body image. Since my castration, I have felt more comfortable being naked than ever before, but I have a long way to go before I really accept my body – especially since I have put on a bit of custard around my middle since my operation!
7. I’m less unique than I think! Back in the jacuzzi, some guy starts getting amorous with me. I let him go so far, but I decided that on my first visit, I didn’t want to really play. He was lovely and fine with that. I talked a little about myself and what my husband and I were doing there and said “I expect you noticed that there’s something missing down there?”, to my surprise it didn’t bother him: he was also a member of the detesticulated! What are the chances!?

We talked for a while, which actually relaxed me considerably, but I knew that at that time, I wasn’t going to go any further with anyone – kind of a shame because he was a good looking guy, right age for me, and a Dom!

I was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the experience, and I knew that I needed to leave, I was rooted to the sofa and begining to shutdown. With a real effort, I roused myself and headed to the locker room.

Quiet time

And now I am sat outside a cafe in the heart of Bournemouth drinking an oat latte and trying to relax.

I had about half an hour before my husband joined me for coffee.

Aside from a quick update, we’ve agreed not to talk to each other about it for a few days.

After coffee, we walked down to the seafront, hand in hand, some fish and chips.

I love this man so much.