Vivien touched the necklace at her throat. Delicate silver loops cupped turquoise droplets. It was the most expensive piece she'd ever purchased and it had been worth the wait to wear it.
She picked up the mirror at the bedside and looked at her face. It seemed softer, rounder now. Her red hair, cut in a shag, framed her face with gentle licks of ginger fire. She pushed the covers down and opened her hospital gown.
Holding the mirror over her body, she admired her breasts. Curved, not too full, maybe not even as full as she hoped they would be, but that could be adjusted over time with surgery. She tenderly teased her left nipple and felt satisfied with its seductive rise between her fingers. Pushing her breasts together with her arms, Vivien admired the obvious cleavage and the way the necklace splayed across her clavicle.
She pushed the covers down further and held the mirror over her groin. Using her left thumb and forefinger, she peeled away the bandage. The numbness had subsided, leaving a peculiar feeling of black and blue tissue below the surface. Vivien moved her legs so her feet were flat on the bed and her knees made a tent of the white sheet. Her neck craned, she peered between her legs. Her bulky penis and testicles had been turned into a sculpted landscape of pink smooth, mounded skin leading to her new vagina. The beauty of its simplicity caught Vivien off guard. "I am a woman." she said aloud. She laid down and said it again, "I am a woman."
The truth of her statement clung to her mind and made her heart pound. She put the mirror away, re-arranged her bandages and bedclothes. Vivien turned on her side, wrapped her arms tightly around herself and whispered, "I am a woman."
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