Clit Wear designs that create vaginas for men.

Clit Wear for Men

"Her Pretty Boy"

Everyone always said that Jesse had a soft look. Long lashes, high cheekbones, and lips that women swore they'd kill for. From school to the office, people often joked—you would’ve made a really pretty girl. He never pushed back. He didn’t mind the comment, not really. He liked the attention. Maybe it stirred something deeper than he could admit—until he met her.

Her name was Delilah. Bold, wickedly smart, confident in a way that turned heads. She saw Jesse across the room at a mutual friend's party and made a beeline straight for him. Her opening line? “You’re too pretty to be hiding in jeans and boxers.”

From the very beginning, Delilah didn’t just accept Jesse’s softness—she craved it. And not just aesthetically. She confessed, one night with a mischievous smile, that she had a thing for ultra-feminine boys. Especially ones who could blur the lines completely. She didn't want to date a tomboyish girl or a masculine man. She wanted a doll. Her doll.

Jesse blushed, laughed it off, but something electric ran through him. And when she leaned in closer and whispered, “If you let me feminize you, I promise you’ll love it just as much as I do,” he nodded before he could think.

It started with lingerie—silk panties, lace bralettes, garter belts. Then makeup lessons, feminine fragrances, thigh-high stockings. Delilah called it training. Jesse called it heaven.

Soon, she took it further. She introduced him to transformation wear—special MTF designs from niche sites like Koalaswim. These weren’t just thongs and bikinis. These were works of art: engineered pouches that tucked, flattened, shaped, and transformed. With a few careful adjustments, Jesse’s body didn’t just look feminine in a bikini—it looked female. No trace of his former anatomy. Just a smooth, proud camel toe and a delicate V-shape nestled between his thighs.

She called it his clit wear—designs made to erase the man and expose the girl. Every time he wore one of those suits, she made him show it off. First in their backyard pool. Then a hotel. Then a resort spa in Palm Springs, where the thong suit hugged him so tight, it looked like he had a cute little labia, complete with a soft, realistic outline. He got stared at. By men and women. But no one questioned what he was. She made sure of that.

Jesse began loving the thrill—the power of passing, the teasing dominance of appearing utterly feminine while knowing what he really was… or used to be. Delilah made sure he never had to be a man again. She took photos. She bought him clit-clip accessories. She even designed a "pussy debut" day at the beach, where Jesse wore the tiniest pink micro-thong with a glistening faux slit, turning heads as the waves licked between his thighs.

He was her boyfriend. Her girlfriend. Her doll. Her obsession.

And every time Delilah pulled him into her arms and whispered, “You’re not hiding anything anymore, are you baby? Let them see your pussy,” Jesse moaned and melted, helpless and proud.

They weren’t just lovers. They were co-creators of something bolder. Jesse wasn't just feminized. He was reborn.

 Her Pretty Boy, where Delilah takes Jesse on his first full trip living completely as her feminized, clitwear-adorned goddess. Things get even bolder—and he learns he’s not alone.

Her Pretty Boy – Part 3: The All-Girl Getaway

Delilah booked the trip without telling Jesse the full story.

“All I’ll say,” she purred, tracing a glossy fingernail down the center of his “camel toe,” “is that you won’t need any of your old boy clothes. I’ve packed everything you’ll need.”

He gulped—but he was used to surrendering by now. She had trained him into a perfect little vision of feminized obedience. The bag she packed was small, ultra-light, and filled exclusively with swimsuits that turned his tucked body into a beach-ready goddess.

The moment they landed at the coastal resort, Jesse realized just how serious she was.

Delilah handed him a tiny mesh romper with no underwear, a pair of platform slides, and a neon micro-thong swimsuit from Koalaswim’s FemCore Clitwear line. It was one of the boldest he’d ever worn—a soft lavender Lycra with a vertical seam that split his pouch just right, sculpting a perfect, swollen labia that peeked clearly through the fabric.

“You’re wearing this. From check-in to poolside,” she said, smoothing the suit up over his hips herself. “No one will question it. Because you’re mine, and you’re hot.”

They strolled through the lobby like a celebrity couple—Delilah in a sheer sarong and bikini, Jesse strutting proudly beside her in a thong so tiny it was barely legal. The receptionist blinked, clearly stunned, but smiled and handed them their room keys.

But the surprise didn’t stop there.

That night, Delilah took him to a private beach bonfire—an invite-only gathering she found through a secret forum. Jesse’s heart almost stopped when he saw them—other couples, women with their own beautiful, feminized men. All wearing clitwear. All tucked. All proudly showing off their transformed bodies.

One was in a sheer white string bikini with rhinestones that danced across his lips—his new lips. Another wore a nude one-piece that had a built-in labia ridge, realistic enough to make anyone do a double take. There were micro thongs, one with a pierced faux clit, another with glittering body oil and a faux labia that looked so convincing Jesse nearly blushed in awe.

Delilah kissed his cheek. “See, baby? You’re not alone. You’re part of a new sisterhood.”

The women chatted, comparing their sissy boys' suits, trading links to their favorite shops, laughing about the first time they saw their men truly transformed. Jesse was shy at first—but when one of the other "girls" complimented his lavender thong and asked what brand it was, he beamed.

Later that night, the girls dared the boys to do a slow, sensual walk along the beach, heels optional, camel toes mandatory.

Jesse’s hips swayed. The suit clung. His “clit” was on full display. He could feel the sand between his toes and the heat of Delilah’s eyes on him the whole time.

He wasn’t a man on vacation anymore.

He was a feminized treasure on display.