Tits and My Gender Issues - Sex~Kitten.net

Let me start out by saying that I love my tits very much. Hell, I love tits, period. They’re fun, interactive, attractive, and everything you could think of. Breasts appeal to everyone, even gay men, and I certainly like mine. My left one is slightly smaller but they’re both very beautiful. I had my left nipple pierced for a while and I enjoyed that. I’ve adorned them, they’ve been adored by my lovers, and I still love on them today.

So why, then, am I looking forward to the day when I can have them surgically removed?

Men don’t have tits. It’s a simple statement, I know, and not necessarily true all the time. There are plenty of bio-guys (term used for biological males to distinguish them from FTMs or Intersexed persons) with larger pectoral muscles and fat tissues. But the thing is, they are not the norm. I’m currently a D cup. That’s a bit large to be passing off as biological male physique.

And the fact is that I want the flat chest very much. I want to look down and not see them. To not have to wear my binder every single day even when it’s hot and scratchy and I’d rather not. Then, too, there’s the excitement of going topless in public. It’s a thought I had recently that tickled my fancy more than expected. It also captured the imagination of my friends. Think of it: to walk along the beach without a shirt on and without fear that someone was going to arrest you for public nudity. Sure, you’re going to have some huge scars but you’d have a “male” chest and no one would think you were being indecent.

I want my lover to not pause going over my chest with their hands. I want to look male because it’s what I feel on the inside. The female part of me will always be there and I would never want to get rid of her completely. But the male part of me doesn’t want the physical reminders. I want to be able to get on with my life. I don’t want to be hung up on gender and sex. Lots of women rarely think of the fact that they have breasts unless their attention is drawn there. Well I can’t help but have my attention drawn there, every day, for most of the day. They’re too big, they’ve moved around in my binder, does it look flat enough? And on and on and on.

I have everything else in my life to think about. My tits shouldn’t be one of them.

I know what I’m willing to give up. I know the dangers of breast removal and chest reconstruction surgery. I know that the risks are elevated, in part, for me. I know what I’ll be giving up. I know, for example, that I will lose nipple sensation (and let me tell you – I love nipple play). I know, too, that there’s a decent chance the nipple graft won’t take and I’ll be nipple-less. I know that there will most likely be a need for follow-up surgery. I know that it will be harder for me to detect lumps that signal cancer.

I know these things and I’m okay with that. That’s how much I dislike seeing them every day and dealing with the fact that they’re there. That’s how sure I am that this transition is right. My breasts do not make me who I am. But I’m not a girl, not any more, and they don’t belong here on me any longer.

It’ll probably be a couple of years before I can afford the surgery to remove them. But I know it’s what I want. You’d think they’d find a way for us to switch with our MTF (male to female) sisters and give them our breasts. I’m sure we’d donate a few other body parts, too, if that were possible. I will always love tits, boobs, breasts, ta-tas, or whatever you want to call them. I appreciate them and worship them when my lover lets me. This isn’t about becoming a man because men are “more accepted” or that “it’s okay to be a boy”. Trans is what I am and this is just another step that will make me more comfortable.