This face is familiar, but then it isn’t really. You watch in mute horror as the bandages come off.
The cheeks are a bit higher, the nose upturned just a tad. The lips are full of unspoken promises. The gaze is almost Oriental. You thought it’d be different, but the self loathing’s still there.
You abruptly turn away from the mirror, tearing the stitches where your cock used to be.