D I Y F C

Miranda read the instructions through yet again, although she already knew them by heart. Today would be THE day: the day that she had waited so long for. This would be the day that she would finally get rid of her horrible, embarrassingly huge bits that dangled between her thighs. Her emotions were dancing through her mind, a jumble of conflicts, of eager anticipation and dread, fear and desire, arousal and emptiness.

"The pubic hair should be removed at least 24 hours before starting, (by plucking, waxing, shaving or depilatory cream). It is essential that any resulting irritation has fully subsided before applying the clip." She had used a mild depilatory cream after first clipping the hair close with scissors. She had been careful to keep the cream out of the sensitive central parts and there had been no adverse reaction. She had heard of girls getting an unquenchable burning and a swelling that took days to subside, but she decided that they had just been careless.

The problem was that it was illegal for anybody to help her anywhere in Europe or America. She had visited a cosmetic surgeon who had refused to consider it for this reason. "If there had been something organically wrong, I could help you, but this is healthy tissue, large indeed, but healthy, and so I could be imprisoned and lose my licence. No, I'm sorry, but it is just not possible."

She had visited various web-pages that considered this issue. Some were just male fantasies, unrealistic and obsessive, sordid indulgence over the misery and misfortune of others. Some were feminist propaganda against the horrible rituals that many African and Asian girls were subjected to at an early age. Some were to do with intersex conditions and the suffering of those who had experienced reassignment surgery before they could decide for themselves what they wanted. A pitiful few discussed in any sensible and sensitive way the elective alteration of consenting adults for their own needs. That is, until she found the "diyfc" website. Here she found the answer to her prayers, a simple plastic clip that allowed those with excess tissue to shorten it by themselves in a bloodless and virtually pain-free way. She vividly remembered her audible sigh of relief as she read the introduction, now, just three months ago.

"This device should not be used by anybody less than two years after puberty. For legal reasons, purchasers are requested to send a letter indicating that they are over 18 or the age of consent in their country, are more than two years from first menstruation and intend to use it for themselves alone." The letter also had to indemnify the seller from any consequences of the use of the device. The address that she had to send this letter to was, for "legal reasons", in Indonesia, although the web-page was clearly aimed at an English speaking audience. She had sent her letter with a bankers' draft made out in Singapore dollars, almost expecting that it was a confidence trick and that she would hear nothing. But the kit had arrived six weeks later: The clip was wrapped in a tough plastic sack, marked "Sterile - do not open until use". There was a bottle of antiseptic fluid, a pair of operating-room gloves, again in a sterile pack, a strange support belt arrangement for the clip, a sterile indelible marker pen, a scalpel with its blade in a sterile container, and a detailed list of instructions, which she had read through several times a day ever since.

A teacher in a small rural junior school, she had waited until the start of the summer break before proceeding. School had finished two days ago for the children, and yesterday had been spent on clearing up, meetings and administrative activities. Now she was free for the next six weeks, which should allow time for full recovery. " The clip will be in place for between 9 and 14 days. You should arrange your schedule so that the minimum of energetic activities takes place during this time and for the following 5 days, until the scar tissue has reached full strength." She had filled her freezer and had arranged for deliveries of essential perishable foods.

It had all started when she had changed schools just after puberty. At her earlier school, they had taken showers in individual cubicles after games, so nobody had ever seen her naked, and she had never seen anybody else in that state. But the new school had a single large open room, tiled all over, with rows of showerheads poking out of the walls on three sides. The first time she went in, the room was full of steam and there was little anyone could see, but as the steam cleared, and pupils moved out, the few remaining ones suddenly started to giggle and point. "You're in the wrong shower – you should be with the other boys!" "Careful you don't trip over that lot!" "Her old woman must'ah got raped by an elephant!" "No boy'ld ever find his way in through that lot!" Other girls were called back into the shower-room to come and look.

It was the names they called her outside the shower and in the presence of boys that distressed her most: "Piss-flaps!" "Elephant ears!" "Droopy-drawers" "Baggy-panties!" "Trip hazard!" "Cock and Balls!" "Hung like a bull!" "Chicken wattles!" "Coxcomb!" Each time, one of the boys would ask why they were calling her that and there would be a giggling whispered conversation involving pointing and gesticulating. Boys would come up to her in break time and demand to see what she was hiding. Later when the other girls were dating, she found that every date that she was invited to had just one objective: of discovering what she was hiding in her panties. She quickly became terrified of dating and so, here she was at the age of 24, a virgin, afraid of dating, afraid to let any man even have a feel for fear of the ridicule. She had to get rid of it all – there was no other way.

She at once hated and loved her fat and eager clit, hated its enormity but loved the way that it would rise up and respond, rigid and throbbing to her rubbing, rolling and fondling. When she had time, she would often bring herself to four or five orgasms a day, and even when she was busy, hardly a day went by without there being at least one. It would ease the tensions and pressures of the day and let her sleep deeply and calmly at night. "Once the clip is applied," the instructions stated, "it is essential that there should be no attempts at sexual activity of any kind, (including masturbation), until the clip has fallen away and the scar tissue has reached full strength. At least six weeks should elapse before attempting any penetrative sexual activity." She had tried, over the last few weeks to go a few days without masturbating, but it was hard to get to sleep and her clit was so demanding that the most she had done was three days. This would be the hardest part, and now, even as she thought about the long denial that she would suffer, her clit popped up and started to make her feel the urgent need for another orgasm.

She had a last bath before the clip went on, soaking long in really hot water. " Wash the parts very thoroughly before commencing, including hidden places such as under the hood of the clitoris." She drew the hood back, soaping gently beneath it, and kept soaping as she slowly and lovingly gave herself one last orgasm. Would she be able to do it after? She wondered, with her clit gone, would it still be possible? The instructions were ambiguous: "Many women report satisfactory orgasms even after removal of the entire externally protruding part of the clitoris by this method, however, new techniques must be learnt for reaching orgasm, possibly using the G-spot. Others report that orgasms can occur during sexual intercourse, but that masturbation alone does not achieve that result. Some women prefer to leave as much as possible of the clitoris shaft intact to reduce the likelihood of this problem." As far as she was concerned, once the six weeks was over, she would be losing her virginity, so the clitoris was not an issue. She wanted to be clean and smooth like the other girls at school. They had stood there with their thighs parted, their hips arched back and had spread their outer lips with their fingers to show her what a normal girl looked like. Just tiny thin lips and a thread-like bud that all disappeared when they stood up. Six of them had stood there in the shower on that awful day and showed her in turn what she should be like. None had a clit bigger than a grain of rice; none had inner lips bigger than the petal of a daisy. Even now, she blushed with shame as she remembered the incident.

"As the clip closes and pinches the flesh, there will be an initial sharp nipping sensation, which quickly fades away. To reduce the initial discomfort, it is advisable to take an off-prescription domestic pain killer at least twenty minutes before starting." She took two tablets and washed them down with a sip of water.

As instructed, she dried herself on a freshly laundered towel, and then sat on another freshly laundered towel on the bed that she had prepared. "Ensure that you have a comfortable position with the back fully supported by pillows. Spread the thighs wide by placing the soles of the feet together, and position a mirror so that you can easily see the whole area." She did not like to look at her place of shame. She felt humiliated by the fact of her abnormality, but now she examined herself dispassionately as she prepared for the removal, the destruction, no, the normalisation of her parts.

"First fit the belt. The upper part should fit tightly around the waist, the lower over the hips, pulling it down as far as possible. Endure that the PVC straps that descend to support the clip are positioned correctly, one in front of each hip-bone, one at the centre-back and one just forward of the junction of the hip-bones each side of the back." There was a diagram to help her do this. She had practiced it and adjusted it many times. Now it was a matter of fastening the little buckles – everything else was then accurately in place. The transparent PVC straps felt cold and clammy against her skin.

"Put on the sterile gloves and paint the entire area with the yellow antiseptic solution. It is easy to see if anything has been missed because of the strong yellow colouring. Ensure that even hidden places (such as under the clitoris hood), are painted with this solution." The stopper of the bottle had a sort of absorbent pad on a short plastic stick. The solution felt cold and tingled a little. It stung briefly when she got some into her urethra. She dutifully did the underside of the clitoral hood, but felt no arousal.

"Unless the whole of the labia and clitoris are to be removed, use the sterile marker pen to carefully mark the line where you want the cut to be made. Then draw a second line 3mm beyond this. As the clip is 3 mm thick, this second line should be aligned with the visible surface of the clip." Miranda was removing as much of her shame as possible, so she did not bother with the marker pen. It would come in useful for overhead transparencies at school.

"Take the clip from its sterile package and position it over the parts to be removed, drawing them through the slot. If necessary, place the packing pieces provided between the clip and the body to maintain an accurate alignment of the clip with the outer marker line. Fasten the PVC tapes through the holes in the clip, and adjust them so that the clip is held firmly in place." She had seen a picture of the clip. Long and slightly oval, it had a Y-shaped slot in it through which her labia and clitoris would protrude. Imagine a tall narrow fluted wineglass, its top perhaps an inch across, the broadest part maybe two inches and then closing in to a single stem. The slot in the device was like a cross section through this. There was a half-inch hole below the point of bifurcation that she would have to pee through over the next few days. At each end was a lateral cylinder that kept the parts aligned and contained the strong springs that would close the slot when the wedges holding them open were finally removed.

She pulled her flesh through the slot and pressed it tightly against herself. She fastened the belt-tapes and drew them tight. It took some time to adjust them to her satisfaction so that there was no sense of pull on any part of the flesh, only pressure forcing it through the slot. She had to draw the flesh straight to prevent creases. The manipulations had made her clit perk up again, demanding attention. It pressed against the sides of the slot and the pressure added to the stimulus. She stroked it briefly causing it to throb. It seemed not to realise its imminent demise, or perhaps it was making one final request before its execution.

"Once each wedge is removed, it cannot be replaced, so be sure to position the flesh accurately before removal. The two wedges at the rear should be removed first, one at a time. Position the adjacent labium accurately according to your requirements, making sure that the labium is pulled to the rear so that it is straight and that there will be no folds of flesh within the clip; then draw the wedge out slowly with the tool provided." There were three wedges, one at the end of each of the slots. She drew the left fleshy lip towards the rear of the slot until it was under tension and she could feel that some of the outer labium was under tension and being drawn in. This would not be a problem for her; she wanted a smooth finish. Holding it with her left finger and thumb, she used her right to insert the little lever into the hole in the wedge and gently, slowly draw it out, letting the clip close over her lip. The pain was quite sharp, she gasped a little.

If you looked edge-on at the slot in the clip, the two sides were shaped like the pieces of an interlocking jigsaw puzzle, one keying into the other to ensure accurate alignment of the three parts. "The flesh is at once compressed and stretched, cutting off the blood and nerve supply, yet with minimal pain and without any bleeding. The clip is not so tight, however, as to sever the flesh, instead, the two sides are held in precise juxtaposition until they have grown together, when the clip will drop away. This normally takes between nine and fourteen days."

She breathed deeply, panting as she knew women in childbirth did, until the pain subsided to a bearable level. She could feel that the Paracetamol had had a dulling effect. Then, when she felt ready for the next one, she did the same to the other side. Now, only the wedge over the clitoris remained. The clit had subsided slightly with the pain but was now telling her clearly: "One last time please!" She stroked it with her tightly gloved fingers, letting it harden against the sides of the clip, drawing it upwards and outwards, knowing that this way, more of it would be removed.

"If the clitoris is to be included, draw it out to the extent required, grasping the glans beneath the hood with finger and thumb, (it may be necessary to use a little talcum powder to get a good grip), then, using another finger, draw the hood skin upwards to the required level. Now release the remaining wedge. There will be a few moments of sharp discomfort before the parts become numb." She worked along the clip, pulling the labia out as far as she felt that she needed, then she grasped the clitoral glans, and drew it out as far as she could, pressing the clip back against her pubic bone, with her second finger she drew the loose skin around the clit forward and out. Her other hand released the wedge and the clip closed. An electric shock flashed through her, and she rubbed her still-eager clit as sensation was slowly and inexorably extinguished forever. As sensation dimmed, she rubbed harder and harder, but, close as she was to orgasm, it never occurred. A phantom clit demanded that the stimulus must go on, but nothing she could do now had any effect.

"Once you are satisfied that all sensation has been lost, the excess flesh may be removed with the scalpel. This may be done at any time within the next 24 hours. If it is done immediately, there will be some blood and mess. This may be disturbing for some, but if you wait at least 4 hours, the blood will have clotted, and there will be no mess. Do not wait more than 24 hours or the flesh may start to decompose which is a health risk."

She got up and stretched, being careful to keep her legs a little apart so as not to disturb the clip. There was some tugging as she moved, but she could control it. Sitting was a problem, she had to sit on the edge of the chair. Lying down was OK as long as she lay on her back with her thighs apart. She waited a full six hours before the next stage, as she wanted the blood to clot and be retained, her clit engorged forever. It felt strange to slide the scalpel up along the surface of the clip, severing her numb, dead and redundant parts. Now they were in the bowl of formalin, oozing slightly. She wanted to preserve them, to stop the process of decay.

She prepared the acrylic moulding kit earlier. A base layer of resin was already prepared and in the bottom of the long lozenge-shaped mould. She carefully arranged the clit and labia in as natural looking way as possible, with the severed edges inwards. It looked like a strange flesh-coloured butterfly. Then she poured in the liquid resin. She had to quickly prepare a little more resin to fully cover the protruding clit with its eager purple tip pointing out. The heat of the resin setting would help with the sterilisation process – she knew that the formalin would not fully penetrate the flesh in that short time – besides if it did, it would take out all the colour.

That afternoon: The sharp pain was gone, but there was a fierce and deep ache, so she took more painkillers. It probably dulled the pain, but her whole being was focussed on it and she could not distract herself. The first pee was an anxious time, but there was no stinging, so no exposed wound, just mess as the pee hit the sides of the hole in the clip and dribbled all over her thighs. She washed herself.

Evening: now she was feeling incredibly sexually aroused, but could do nothing about it. She felt an intense internal pressure, and a phantom clit was urgently demanding impossible attention. She took a shot of whisky, and a little later another.

Night: she slept little, each time she started to drop off, she would change position and the tug of the clip would awaken her. She was anxious not to disturb it. "The first 48 hours are critical, it is important not to put any stress onto the clip during this time."

Day 2, Morning: Exhausted from disturbed sleep, she made a minimal breakfast, avoiding coffee. She needed a number two. On the toilet, she released the centre rear strap supporting the clip, (as instructed), and found it less messy then peeing. She cleaned herself and replaced the support strap. The lack of sleep made her senses hyper-acute to every ache and tug on her clip. She felt herself in torment, able neither to sit, stand nor lie, move nor stay still without provoking some new discomfort. A detached part of her realised that her pains were really very small ones and that it was the sleeplessness amplifying it.

Day 2, Afternoon: She slept for a couple of hours after lunch, and felt much better, even forgetting about the pain for a while.

Day 2, Evening: Watched a good DVD, one she had been saving for this occasion. No sex, but plenty of distracting action. Felt a lot better.

Day 2: Night: Really, really needed to masturbate to settle herself to sleep. It was a rare thing for her to sleep without an orgasm, and she felt an intense longing for one, but composed herself eventually, engaging in a long and elaborate fantasy about having a team of circumcisers going into a girls boarding school, (all official, approved by the board of governors and with signed consent forms from all the parents), and clipping away anything that protruded beyond the outer lips.

Day 3, Morning: "Keep the clip and the flesh held by it as dry as possible, cleaning with a flannel squeezed almost dry. Do not shower or bath, but wash yourself carefully without using excess water." She really wanted a shower, but this was forbidden, so she washed all over with a flannel and shower-gel. She dressed, and briefly ventured outside, walking rather stiffly and bow-legged around the house and back inside. She felt that people would think that she had wet herself. The discomfort was far less; the biggest problem was an itching that had started. She knew that itching was a good sign, a sign of healing.

That day she removed the acrylic lozenge from its mould. It was larger than she had really expected, she could not wear it as a visible piece of jewellery, but she fastened it to a chain and put it round her neck to wear under her clothes. She touched the tip of the clit, remembering, part of her regretting the loss.

Day 4, Morning: The itching was quite pronounced, now, a real distraction. She looked at the instructions again. "There will be some itching from the second or third day. This is a sign of healing. Be sure to leave the clip alone. Do not be tempted top try to relieve the itching by touching the clip or the flesh nearby in any way." No suggestions for relieving it, then – a terrible torment!"

Day 6, Night: The itching is a constant presence, continuous, unrelenting. Pressure by sitting square and firm on the clip helps a little, but it soon returns. The temptation to pull, to put something underneath is almost irresistible.

Day 9, Morning: "Where the clitoris has not been included, the wound may have healed enough for the clip to release. If the clitoris has been included, no attempt should be made to release the clip until at least the twelfth day. Soak in a warm bath and release the support straps to see if the clip will come away. If there is any sharp pain or bleeding, wait at least two days before trying again . " She could feel that there was a part to the rear on the left where the clip has already separated.

Day 12, Morning: She soaked herself in a warm bath, luxuriating in the relief from having to dry-wash with a flannel. She released the straps and gently pulled the clip away from her labia. It was free everywhere except over her clit, which did not feel at all ready to release. She refastened the support straps and got out and dried herself. It felt better already.

Day 12, night: All day, every movement she made seemed focussed on the stump of her clit. She was overwhelmed with the need for orgasm. She tried gentle and tiny movements of the clip, but that just gave her the wrong sensations, hot and cold, pressure and pricking without enough sexual stimulus – a jangle of confused sensations from severed nerves.

Day 15, Morning: Another long soak in the bath, and at last the clip came away. At last she could examine herself in a mirror. A thin raised crease of red scar-line marked the place where her labia and clit had once been. "Keep the scar-line dry for another two days, then commence frequent massage with emulsifying ointment. Massaging accelerates the healing process, reducing the time taken for the scar tissue to fully settle down and ensuring that it is fully flexible."

Day 17, Evening: Lots of emulsifying ointment, and lots of rubbing. She had hoped that she could bring herself to orgasm, despite the injunction against doing so, before the scar had reached full strength, but as soon as she started to clench in the build-up towards orgasm, she felt that the scar was bursting with the pressure within her clit-stump, and so she stopped and it didn't happen.

Day 18: Five or six sessions with the emulsifying ointment, but always avoiding getting aroused enough to start clenching. The frustration was intense. The nerve-sensation over the clitoris stump was intense and overpowering, a mixture of pain and pleasure, hot and cold, pressure and tension, a jangle of confusion, disturbing and off-putting, not something that could bring on orgasm.

Day 28, Morning: She had heard of women getting orgasm dreams, but this was the first time it had nearly happened to her. A strange and intense dream in which her clitoris was intact and a young and gorgeous man was sucking it and playing with it until she started involuntarily clenching, then the bursting pressure sensation woke her and she fought back her orgasm, afraid of hurting herself. Each time she rubs in the ointment, the strange sensations get easier. Now she can bear to put full pressure on the stump of her clit, rubbing firmly as the mind gradually sorts out the strange nerve sensations. She has never put a finger inside, never did before, because she never needed to, perhaps also afraid of losing her precious virginity, and now afraid of the injunction against penetrative sex, but she felt a need to find her G-spot. She had read about it, knew where to seek for it – but not yet.

She was going walks each day now, her movements no longer awkward; soon she would start running again, getting herself fit for the return to school.

Day 42: The six weeks are up. Now she is allowed to feel inside, try to find her G-spot. Massage has reduced the once livid scar to a pale pink line, no longer angry, except for a raised area over her clit stump. She gently probed inside, feeling for somewhere that produces a stronger sensation. This will be where a man would stimulate her in intercourse, she supposed. It was time for an orgasm, but she still found the feeling of tearing from internal pressure made her afraid of injuring herself, of bursting her wound. She rubbed again, so near but so far. She sighed with the frustration. She looked in the mirror, seeing the smooth sex free of excrescences, delighting in the smooth streamlined look, glad that she had done it, able to suffer the torment of frustration for this result.

School starts in three days. Who would she meet? Who would she date, lose her virginity to? Would he be able to give her the orgasm she couldn't give herself? She couldn't wait. There was a new sports instructor due to start…