You spend your entire life with a mask you put on for the world. Only in private can the mask come off. Except for me of course. I can’t even take off my mask in private. I’ve felt this way my entire life: like I was born in the wrong body. It has been a torture unimaginable. I looked into the current “treatments” for gender dysphoria but found them far too invasive for what I felt to be just a crude facsimile of what I sought. So I turned to the occult: searching for close to three years for some way to make my dream come true. I finally found it last week. It’s taken me most of the time since then to work up the courage to use it. There is nothing more terrifying than to have your dream come true after such a long journey. Taking a long weekend, I went up to my family’s cabin on the lake. Once I was settled I took my little trinket and went to the water’s edge. I unwrapped the porcelain mask and pressed it against my face. I could feel its power coursing through me. Taking my hands away from my face the mask stayed on my face without anything holding it up.




After a minute I could tell that the mask had done its job. I knew this because I could no longer feel it on my face. Smiling, I reached behind my ears and pulled it. It was perhaps the weirdest feeling I have ever experienced in my life. It felt like I was pulling my navel out through my ears. After a moment though it was over and I held the mask once
more in my hands. Hands that had become slim and feminine. With quiet joy, I examined my new body. From tiny toes to flowing hair I was the epitome of female grace and beauty, but I was faced with a new problem: did I put the mask back on and go back to my old life, knowing that I could come back to this at any time? Or do I embrace everything that this pew life may hold? I stared at the mask that embodied everything about my old life and thought, “eh, screw it,” before dropping it into the lake.




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