“Becoming Clitty: My Journey into Feminine Compression and the Exposed Vagina Look”
I never thought I’d want my penis to be smaller—at least not until I discovered how powerful being feminine could feel.
It started with curiosity. Late nights scrolling through gender transformation forums, reading stories about sissies, trans girls, and femmeboys who had transformed their bodies—sometimes drastically—without even needing surgery. I found one thread dedicated entirely to penis compression training. The title was blunt: “From Dick to Clit: Feminize Yourself Without a Scalpel.” I clicked.
What I found were photos and stories of people wearing hyper-feminine compression panties, FuFu clips, exposed vagina designs, and even swimsuits that weren’t designed to just hide the penis—but to change it. Some had trained their penises down to being no longer than a thumb. Some didn’t even get hard anymore—at least not outwardly. It was like their bodies had reshaped to match their femininity.
That’s when I found my first pair of MTF exposed-vagina panties—a brand designed for no-op and pre-op trans girls who wanted the look of a soft, puffy vulva, complete with a camel toe. The secret was in the compression: the panel was stiff, shaped like lips, and curved inward to gently pull and train the penis into a flat, tucked, feminine bulge. The reviews were insane. Girls wrote things like, “I haven’t seen my shaft in two months—it’s shrunk into a clit!” and “My boyfriend thinks I’m post-op.”
I ordered two.
When they arrived, I stood in front of the mirror. My body was already soft from low-dose hormones and chastity play, but my penis—small as it was—still reminded me of something I didn’t want. I slipped into the panties. The panel gripped me with firm, sensual pressure, pulling everything up and back into the cradle of the “vulva lips.”
I gasped. It didn’t just hide my penis. It made it disappear—transformed into a puffy, girlish mound that sat perfectly under a tight minidress. I looked like I had a vagina. And when I touched it, I moaned. The pressure made my tucked head feel like a hypersensitive clitoris.
That night, I slept in them. And the next. And then I bought more—daywear, swimwear, even Koalaswim MTF exposed-vagina suits that forced my shaft into total submission. These weren’t just for looks. They reshaped me. Gently squeezing. Flattening. Erasing.
Weeks passed. Erections became rare. My penis began to soften permanently, no longer growing fully. And one day, standing in the mirror again, I realized I hadn’t seen a penis in a week. Just a soft crease. A camel toe. A clit.
And I loved it.
Compression training became daily ritual. I used special hormone-friendly creams that thinned the skin. I wore Exposed V Designs—some open at the crotch, some sheer like lingerie, some that let me show off my little clit to the mirror, or even others.
My girlfriends noticed. They didn’t see a boy anymore.
One pulled me into the bathroom during a beach party—I’d worn my MTF Koalaswim suit with the exposed-vag design, so thin it molded my crotch like silicone skin.
She gasped when she saw me. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You’re not even a boy anymore. That’s…that’s a pussy.”
I blushed. I felt it too.
She didn’t stop staring. Then she smiled. “Let me touch it.”
Now I wear exposed vagina designs daily. They’re not just clothes. They’re part of me—training me, reshaping me, reminding me who I am.
My penis? I don’t call it that anymore.
It’s my clit now.
And I’ve never felt more feminine in my life.
.
The Beach, the Clit, and the Dare
“You’re wearing that to the beach?”
Sierra was already grinning when she asked it, holding up one of the wildest Koalaswim suits I had ever seen: an exposed-v one-piece in translucent bubblegum pink, with high cut hips and—at the crotch—nothing but a set of glossy faux lips that parted ever so slightly in the middle.
No lining. No tuck. Just a soft pressure that split my tiny clit and held it perfectly on display.
Amanda leaned in and whispered, “We want to see if anyone notices.”
I blushed. Hard. “You mean like… stares?”
“No,” she said with a wicked smile. “We mean if they notice you don’t have a cock. Because, baby…” Her hand slipped between my legs, gently pressing the flat, puffy front of my panties. “You don’t anymore.”
We arrived at the beach late—just before sunset. The crowd was still thick. People were lounging on towels, sipping drinks, tossing frisbees. Nobody paid much attention as I pulled off my skirt and slipped off my top, revealing the exposed-v swimsuit underneath.
It hugged me like second skin.
My clit—shrunken, compressed, no longer able to rise—was cradled in the suit’s seam, perfectly pressed between the vulva-shaped lips. I could feel it pulsing. Sensitive. Feminine.
The girls gasped.
“You’re perfect,” Jade breathed. “I mean… I can’t even see anything. Just a soft little peach slit.”
Amanda whispered, “Now here’s the game. We each get a turn.”
“A turn?”
“To tease your clit without touching you directly. In public. If you make a noise, you lose.”
My whole body shivered.
First was Sierra. She laid next to me, giggling as she ran the tip of her chilled water bottle just above the suit’s slit. Condensation dripped down and beaded at the edge of my panty seam.
My clit pulsed so hard I nearly whimpered. But I stayed quiet.
Then came Jade. She leaned over, brushing her hair across my inner thigh like a feather. Her eyes locked onto mine. She mouthed the word clitty over and over, and licked her lips, knowing I could feel everything through that thin, feminine suit.
Amanda saved herself for last. She straddled my hips with a towel over our laps, hiding what she did next.
Her fingers slipped under the crotch panel and didn’t stroke—just held my clit in place, the way she always did when she wanted me trembling.
“Your little cock’s gone,” she whispered hotly. “This is all you are now. A little clit for your girlfriends to tease.”
I came.
Not like a man. There was no erection. No mess. Just waves—soft, feminine waves—that made my legs tremble and my breath catch in my throat.
When she pulled her hand back, she whispered, “You passed the test. No noise.”
Jade leaned in. “What should we give her as a reward?”
Sierra smirked. “Let’s take her home and see how far we can take that clit.”
Amanda purred, “Oh yes, girls. Tonight? We make our little clitty girl forget she ever had a cock.”