Injection - Tumblr Posts
just did my testosterone shot by myself for the first time ever!
i’ve been on testosterone before i have just never administered my own injections before. it was really manly.
a ten out of ten on the man scale i’d say.
Ok. Ok this, but for HRT injections. I do my own injections, and I've been given several different needle lengths with different refills. There is definitely a difference. I am under 200lbs, but the fat layer at my usual injection sight (thigh) is thick enough that the 1in needles don't seem to work as well. I get considerably more leakage, and the area is often sore for longer. The needle just isn't getting down to the muscle properly at all, or only just barely reaching it. 1 1/4 needles work better, with leakage only if I've done something wrong like forget to z-track. And 1 1/2 needles almost never leak at all. If you have less body fat, a longer needle might go too deep, but if you've been having a lot of problems with medication leaking or if you're going on injectable HRT for the first time, maybe look into needle length.
reminder: if you're getting an intramuscular injection (e.g. a covid booster or flu shot) and you're above 200 lbs with estrogen-based body fat distribution or 260 lbs with testosterone-based body fat distribution, you should be requesting a 1.5-inch/38mm needle. you might want to print out this sheet and bring it with you, because I have had pharmacy employees blithely tell me the 1-inch needle is fine for everyone, and I find a clear directive from the CDC just makes life a little easier.
HRT INJECTION TIPS!
Just did my T injection, and I wanna share some things that I find useful! I usually do my own shots, so some of this might not apply if you have someone else do it, but hopefully some of it will help anyway. Have something to remind you about your schedule! I have my injection dates marked on my calendar. I'm super bad at remembering timing and dates, and I would miss stuff like this all the time without an actual reminder I could look at. The one I've just done was actually a day late, because I just looked and realized I was supposed to do it yesterday. I have all the stuff I need for it in one place. Med vials, needles, disinfectant, Band-Aids, sharps box, ect. Makes it easy to keep track of. If you have trouble remembering all the steps, write yourself a list! I'm familiar enough with the process that don't always need it, but I still forget to z-track sometimes. Pop a painkiller half an hour before hand. It helps. I've gotten in the habit of doing this, but I was in a rush for my last one, and just did it without the Tylenol. And there's definitely a difference! Even with a painkiller, you'll still feel it, but it dulls it down just enough to make it easier. If you're over or even close to 200lbs, make sure you're getting a longer needle. An IM injection needs to get all the way down through your body fat and into your muscle tissue. Using a needle that isn't long enough will result in more medication leaking, less effective absorption into your tissues, and a more painful injection site afterword's. I use inch and a quarter needles. One inch works, but not as well, and three quarter inch is way to short. You can ask for different lengths at the pharmacy. If you've never done this type of shot before, and/or are nervous about using a longer needle, it might be surprising to learn that you can usually only feel the first quarter inch or so after piercing the skin. Once you've gotten down through the Hypodermis, there are way fewer nerve endings, and you'll barely be able to feel the needle at all. I usually do my own injections, and I've only had to get help with it because I balked once. But I have to fight with the instinctual "NO WANT STAB SELF" feeling every single time, and there's a lot of stuff that makes it easier. I can work myself up to start fairly easily, but the hardest part is AFTER I break the top layer of skin. I almost always get the needle just far enough in that the pain registers, and THEN the self preservation reflex tries to kick in.
This is why painkillers can be so useful. They slow down the pain signal enough for me to make it slightly deeper, and by that point, I'm almost always in past the point where the sensation stops. The one time I had to get help, it was because I had just barely pierced the skin and then pulled out several times in a row, and the mental block strengthened until I couldn't make another attempt. If you can brace yourself long enough to get that first quarter inch, the rest is much easier. If you have trouble pushing down the plunger for the actual injection, try asking the pharmacy for different syringes. I've tried out several kinds, and some are definitely way easier than others. One type I was given was so hard to push down that I lost most of a dose because I pulled the whole needle out while trying to depress the plunger. I'm fortunate enough to not have any allergies that interfere with my shots. But I've heard a lot of stuff from people who do, so I'll pass it on. The injection should hurt a bit, and might be sore for a day or so afterword's, but it should NOT be excruciating. It should also not swell, turn red, itch, or burn anywhere around the injection site. If it hurts a lot or starts acting weird, you might have done it wrong, gotten an infection, or be allergic to something you're using. Some people can have allergies to the oil used as a base for the hormones, the adhesives on bandages, or the needles themselves. Most injection needles have nickel in them. If you have reactions to piercings/jewelry, the needle might be a problem for you. Fortunately, you can usually swap out whatever's causing the problem for an alternative. There are several types of oil used for the injections, so you should be able to request one that won't cause a reaction. And nickel free needles are available. Feel free to add onto this! I'd love to hear anything people think might be helpful.
Thankful
I sniffed the air with a drool, smelling that delicious roast turkey that my dad was cooking up. It was a family recipe that we had used every Thanksgiving. Dad had never even tried to deviate from it since my mom passed when I was not even a year old. My dad told me it was hers, and cooking the turkey her way made it feel like she was back home for the Holidays.
Thanksgiving has been a big family occasion ever since, though the “family” was just the two of us. My dad valued that family time more than anything. After what happened with mom, he was absolutely devastated for the longest time. But he worked hard to make his way up through the ranks, and told me every single day to be grateful for what I had so I could have a good future myself.
“Ritchie! The turkey is ready! Come eat dinner with your old man.”
I opened my drawer and pulled out a jar filled with a translucent, red liquid along with a syringe. “Coming, dad!” I pondered if this was really the right thing to do. With a sigh, I put the serum back. No, he had done a wonderful job of being a role model parent. I had bought this serum from the shady kid at school before we graduated, and he told me it could turn the victim into a suit by emptying them out. A wearable suit. My dad didn’t deserve that. He had worked hard and chose not to abandon me when he could have.
I ran downstairs and saw the delicious Thanksgiving feast before me. Roast turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, a homemade pumpkin pie, and a beautiful salad. I immediately sat down and started eating as my dad watched with a grin. ”Oh come on, no thank you? On Thanksgiving?” He said jokingly.
“Thanks, dad. And...I want you to know I’m thankful for everything. I know I’m going off to college soon, so...I mean, you’ve worked so hard to....to provide everything for me and get me where I am, I wanna be thankful.”
Dad smiled, almost looking like he was on the brink of tears. “Let’s just eat, alright?” He started to dig in with me as we had a delicious Thanksgiving feast together.
-----------------------------------------
A few hours after dinner, and I rested in my, eyeing the drawer with the bodysuit serum. Perhaps I could use it on someone else, someone who might deserve it.
Knock knock
Startled by the unusual late night disturbance, I opened the door to see Dad standing there, shirtless. Looked like he was getting ready to go to bed.
“Hey, Ritchie, you mind if I come in?’ He gave me the most wholesome smile, a reminder of the close bond we had.
“Yeah, sure, what’s up?”
He walked in and plopped himself onto my bed, hunched over with his legs spread out as he rubbed his hands together.
“Hey buddy, you’re going to college soon, and...I know, I know, maybe it’s not a big deal for you or whatever. I mean, you took this gap year, and you’re probably tired of your old man by now.” His body tensed up as he chuckled before giving a long sigh. ‘I just wanna say I’m really proud of you, and I’m thankful for you. I know sometimes...I know you told me that sometimes you feel guilty, because I had to raise you as a single parent...but I don’t regret it at all.”
My eyes teared up as I head his words. It was true, it felt awful. He never gave me up for adoption, he was never selfish, he had been the role model parent for me. Accepted me the way I was. Even with my homophobic grandparents, my father had told me he didn’t care, because I was his son. He had supported me every step of the way. He never went out looking for another woman, truly in love with my mother, and wanting to give me 100% of his attention.
“Dad...I have to be honest. I don’t want to go to college. It just...it doesn’t seem right to me. But-”
“You’re an adult, Ritchie. You get to make your own decisions. If that’s how you feel, go that route. Don’t let your old man try to live your life for you. I worked hard so you could have the life you want, not for you to be unhappy. I’ll support you, no matter what choice you make.”
At a loss for words, I jumped out of bed and hugged Dad and felt his arms wrap around me.
“Dad, I really meant what I said earlier. I couldn’t have asked for a better father.”
“I love you, son. No matter what, don’t ever forget that.”
As I hugged him, the option tugged at my conscience. in his compassion and fatherly affection, the guilt ripped me apart. I wanted it more than ever.
I got up from him and turned to the drawer. As he got up to leave the room, I said, “Wait, uh...I’ve um...got something for you.”
“Yeah? What is it, champ?”
I opened the drawer and slipped the syringe through the top of the jar, watching the liquid seep into the it.
“Just...uh...hold on a sec, alright?”
He gave a deep chuckle. “Yep, I’m waitin’.”
“I’m really sorry, Dad.”
I looked behind me and saw his concerned face. He was loving and supporting, and wanted to comfort me. “I already told you Ritchie, I’m proud of you. I don’t want you to feel gui-”
I swiftly turned around and jabbed Dad in the neck with the syringe, injecting him as he was startled. He pulled my hand away and pushed me back.
“Ritchie, w-what the hell was that?” His large, meaty hand patted his neck as he gave me a confused look.
“A...a bodysuit serum. I’m really sorry, Dad.”
“What the hell is that? What did you do? Is this some kind of prank?”
“N-no...I don’t....I don’t know...” I felt great guilt as Dad suddenly started groan and cup his face in his hands.
“Oh...fuck...i-it burns! WHAT DID YOU DO?” He tried to leave the room, but I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him back in, covering his mouth as he yelped. He was, of course, much stronger and bigger than me, but even in this moment of peril, he wasn’t willing to hurt his son. He pushed me back slightly as he fell back and hit the wall, slumping as his head hung down, struggling to keep it up.
“Fuck...Ritchie, please, call an ambulance! W-what are you doing?”
“It’s gonna turn you into a suit. I’m gonna wear your skin, Dad.”
His face was a mixture of confusion and horror. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, RITCHIE!”
“I already told you, I’m really sorry Dad...but I’m gonna have your body. I’m gonna wear that skin of yours!” I menacingly approached him, still unsure if this was what I wanted to do.
“W-What do you mean? Did you...drug me?” The pain appeared to be ramping up as Dad’s face contorted and he wiggled against the wall, yelping every now and then while he clutched his stomach.
“I told you I didn’t want to go to college. I’m really sorry to say this...but I’m going to go straight to work, Dad. I want to wear your skin. I want to live your life, talk to your friends, do your job...please don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just because you’re the man I want to be.”
Dad started to cough as he looked slightly paler than before, wrestling out what words he could. “W-what are you going to do?” He clenched his jaws as he built up the courage the ask. “You’re creeping me out Ritchie! W-what do you mean wear my skin? You’re not a monster!” He stumbled over his words in terror, in denial of his fate.
“Nothing like that! I just know that I can’t wait to slide into you, slipping into your empty, lifeless skin, stretching every wrinkle of yours, and to talk to everyone...and not a single person will know. I really am sorry.”
Looking disturbed by his own son’s words, Dad tried again for the door. This time, I managed to grab him and put him in a chokehold. I could feel him getting softer as he was turned into a suit, and he was a lot weaker because of it. He started to panic with shallow breaths as I watched his bare feet scrape against my bedroom carpet, desperately trying to get out of my grasp. I could feel him almost ready.
I stood up with him still in a chokehold and moved to drag him over to the bathroom. I kicked open the door and turned on the light, I threw Dad forward as he hit the bathtub.
“I told you, I’m thankful for you, Dad. You’ve given me so much, and you’re about to give me everything.”
I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed his head into the tub as the goo started to eject from his mouth. My very unfortunate father flailed and attempted to back up from the tub, gaining momentary freedom. “R-RITCHIE! STO-MMMMPH!!!”
I quickly slammed his face back towards the tub when I noticed him desperately clenching his mouth to keep the goo inside, trying to retain what little was left of him. I reached my left arm over his face and the right under his chin. I used both of my hands to clip onto his lips; I knew Dad wouldn’t bite me, he was too good of a father. With my left arm and held his upper face steady as I pulled his mouth open with my right hand. He whimpered as he looked at me, as if one final plea to talk. Slowly, but surely, his mouth started to open with a cry as he weakened. Prying his mouth open, Dad shuddered and yelped as the goo plopped out of his mouth. Clearly unable to fight for any longer, I released the pressure and grabbed him by the hair with my left hand. I could feel his head almost...folding in on itself, as it emptied. I tugged his head back into the tub until Dad was mostly deflated and empty. His hands let go of the tub and fell to the ground in a folded pile, while his legs had completely folded at the knees, while his face drooped into the bathtub. I felt a severe guilt. Dad, the man who had given me everything, who had been supportive of me, who had been the best father he possibly could’ve been, was gone. All that was left was this bodysuit of him.
I grabbed his hand, and noticed there was some goo left in him. I picked the arm of the suit up from the fingers and squeezed out the remaining goo as it fell right out from his mouth, until he was completely empty. Turning on the bathtub, the goo sunk into the drain.
I grabbed the bodysuit by the scalp and held it up, and his shorts and underwear slipped off. I could just barely hold the suit so Dad’s feet wouldn’t touch the ground; he was a man of incredible stature. Every crevice of his folded over itself, while the mouth and eye sockets dragged downwards, creating an O-face with bags. Even though I knew it was me who did it, the macabre visual of my own father’s lifeless skin could only seek to unsettle me. I intended to remedy that.
Dropping the bodysuit to the floor, it fell as a haphazard pile of skin and hair with a slap. I took off my own clothes and tossed them onto the floor. I hooked my fingers onto Dad’s lips and started to stretch his mouth as wide as I could. I dipped my toes in, forcing one foot through Dad’s body, then the other, until both fit snugly into his feet. I wiggled my new toes, significantly thicker and with little tufts of hair on each one. I tugged harder at his mouth as I slipped Dad’s skin on, feeling his powerful legs overtake my own. I flexed my trunk thighs in awe, enjoying seeing his beautiful daddy legs move to my command. I had to stretch the suit to it’s limit to slip my hard cock into Dad’s fuckstick skin. Christ, the thing was massive. I shimmied into his ass, feeling it perk up. Dad was always such a humble guy, and of course, I hadn’t got to see him naked until now. He truly had an amazing body, it almost made me sad to imagine all that he missed out on in his loyalty to Mom. I gazed at myself in the mirror, satiated by the thought of my supportive and caring father, being turned into a sexual object by his son. The empty arms swung from my hip as I checked myself out, while the skin of his torso and head clumped around my waist. I continued to pull at Dad’s mouth, slipping my arms into each arm of the suit. His hands were strong and his fingers thing, veins running down the arm. A sign of masculinity and impressive musculature. Finally, I grabbed the upper lip from behind my head and, using my newfound strength, pulled the upper lip over my head as Dad’s face stretched to ludicrous proportions while I tried to stuff my own head into his, almost threatening to tear.
I blinked a few times, and looked in the mirror. I was the spitting image of Dad, quite literally. Humble, supportive, friendly, caring Dad. Perhaps I need to start referring to myself by name. Alan. I was Alan, single father of Ritchie. I could only give myself a devious smirk in the mirror. As I started to jerk off this new fuckstick of mine. It was insanely sensitive, from nearly two decades of loyalty and family dedication. I rubbed it intensely as I recalled the events of the night. I did feel awful about what I had done, but there was such a dark appeal to it. I had decided on not turning Dad into a skinsuit...but when he came in, and sat there on that bed, the impulse was too much. Recalling the nights events of pulling on Dad’s skin, and getting to see myself in control of his body...I ejaculated onto the mirror with a loud moan, rolling my neck as I felt the wave of pleasure overtake my body momentarily. The seed was thick, and I was able to roll it off the mirror and eat it up. I stretched a bit to fully situate myself in my new skin and picked up the underwear that I had been wearing, ready to slip it on and go to bed. A thought passed my mind as I stared in the mirror, ready to be just as good of a man that Alan had always been.
Once again, Dad endured so many trials, to give me everything. Quite literally this time.
And I was finally, truly, thankful.
"GHE23/ Injection". (by JohnnyAlexAbbate)
Calling my trans siblings that do injections (and anyone else that does regular self-injections)!
This is a ShotBlocker. It’s perfect if you have a fear of needles, injections, injection pain, or any other kind of injection anxiety. You place the plastic spikes on your skin and firmly press them down while doing your injection. Having many different points of pressure distracts you from injection pain and I’ve found it helps mentally as well.
I’ve been doing T injections for about a month now and tonight I didn’t have to work myself up to it like I’ve had to in the past. AND it wasn’t as painful as my other injections! I highly recommend getting one of these if you’re struggling to do injections. You can get them for $5-$7 online and they are reusable.
Dr. Malone was right all along!
Let’s not forget, turbo cancers.