I read Trans-blogs all the time. I recently read one on Femulate by Stana and it made me want to post this thought to my own blog.
I got the distinct impression her's was a question regarding money. The "struggling family" she mentions smacks so much of exploitation, the funding for it only re-enforces my suspicions and beliefs.
Ironically, I just watched a movie on HBO just last night called "Cinema Verite". The movie claimed to be true and, in the credits at the end, it hi-lighted each person involved. It was about a real family in Santa Barbra, California, during the 70s. It also said this movie actually started the "reality TV" craze we take for granted today. Directed by Craig Gilbert in 1972, the movie was seen by many people at PBS as a success. The movie was titled An American Family.
My interest, of course, was not peaked because the movie was true or because of the characters chosen, the family also happened to have a homosexual boy character who left home to go to NYC to find himself. That sounded very nice to me and, in fact, he was living a very significant facet of my own personal fantasy. I was actually a bit jealous of him. While Lance was an obvious homosexual, I fell to the pressures from my own biological family and society norms and developed to a much less outwardly sufficient degree. I didn't become like him but I developed inside myself.
So, I made some popcorn and settled in for a good movie. I was not disappointed. He fell hopelessly in love with a person who worked on stage as a cross dressing female. He was my kind of boy! Naturally, I felt his exposure was very limited but the movie was about a much larger thing. A social thought, a really big idea. One I had much interest in. Or so I thought.
His mother made a visit to his place in NYC, which was filmed, and when she learned about her son's relationship she said only mildly significant things about it. The fact of Lance's blatant homosexuality was also not talked about by her at any time. She was on camera, however, and I felt that particular topic might've been taboo.
His NYC life, which I suspect had boundaries of its own, was filmed in todo but with no input from his mother and no knowledge of his father. The boy had carte blanc to live his life the way he wanted. Sounds like a pretty "normal" life to me now. Lance contracted HIV, became very ill and passed away in 2001 at the age of 50. For those who care, he was NOT alone.
The film, The American Family, at the very first screening of it, in the title the word "Family" was shown with cracks running all through it. It was quickly seen by the majority of the masses as an American Freak Show. My thoughts, as I saw those scenes and well after the movie was over, ran to a rut I call, "some things never change". I was particularly glad to see the "Family" fought back!
This movie might not be so similar to the flick Stana mentioned on Femulate, but I always feel when ever money is involved it seems to have a strange but unrelenting way of talking. Unfortunately, so does society! No matter the people, no matter the conditions, no matter the story, there are always throngs of humans who are conflicted.
So, is it better that we trannies spend our money on ourselves FOR our admirers while keeping our secrets to ourselves? I think not. The world is teeming with admirers.
See ya out there!
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
I read a post and it reminded me of . . . .
Actually I saw a cartoon and it made me recall how strongly I felt I was a female. It also made me think that maybe the reason I was so ready to do the oral thing for boys and men was because I was compensating. It never occurred to me, not once, that what I did was wrong. The thing I did also led me to beg men to let me sit on their hard-ons. That, if you don't already know, is unlike anything on Earth. It is more closely matched to going to heaven!
Simply said, and I know it's cliche, I've always really been a girl in a boy's body!
When I was very young I used to think I was just a mixed up boy who had a need to behave like a very bad girl. I couldn't explain it. I was used as an oral play thing for every male friend I had! And I had plenty of male friends!
To paraphrase their words; did they "give" me a good mouth fucking or did I "take it" from them? I know I willingly played a part, but did I control a guy's semen? Did they feel any better than me when we were done? I don't think so! I often told them not to jack off, that they could feed me their full loads of semen. I was called many dirty and disgusting names as they laughed. These boys were simply wrong about me and the oddest thing was, that I seemed to know it!
I learned about boys and sex pretty fast and invented a game I called, "Who wins what?"
In my mind, we both won!
I'm not a woman, never was and I will never really be one, but as a youngster I thought we had the best thing going ever, we had a secret! And yes, the guys didn't want to be seen talking to me in day-light back then, and in fact I had to be careful not to get beaten up just for being a queer! The make-up and dress, the "hook ups" and low morals have changed nothing, they still want to take me into the bathroom stalls and parked cars, but they don't want to be seen talking to me and I'm still fearful of getting beaten up or worse!
Guess, some things never change!
I know I'm not a man and I'm not a woman, I'm just a simple homosexual who enjoys being a MTF Transvestite behind closed doors. Once word gets out that I suck cock, like to get fucked, and wear dresses and make up, I'm usually scratched off most female lists.
I feel that's all for the best.
An honest female most likely wouldn't want to waste her time fooling with me in the boy mask I wear. I think it's far better to show the real me because everyone can see that I can't be the big, strong, masculine man. I'm just like any female soul, I'm hoping for love but resigned to being a slut and getting only the NSA sex!
In many ways I'm exactly like a real woman, I'm seen by most men as a partner for nothing more and what I do is not much different from faking a climax. Ladies you know who you are!
When I sashay up to a register, nails polished, mini-skirt showing lots of nylon covered thighs, fake lashes glued in place, my tiny black clutch in my hand, I hope to enjoy the fact that every man's eyes are on me. I also do not delude myself that some eyes are looking at me with lots of disgust! Many females who once thought I was a man might even hate.
I doubt I make a better looking woman than most GGs do and I'm very sorry, ladies, I didn't mean to hurt you by pretending to be a man. It's simply not my fault that I am what I am. I can not accept blame for having fooled you for so long, I blame society!
If I'm seen as somehow cruel, again, I'm sorry.
Simply said, and I know it's cliche, I've always really been a girl in a boy's body!
When I was very young I used to think I was just a mixed up boy who had a need to behave like a very bad girl. I couldn't explain it. I was used as an oral play thing for every male friend I had! And I had plenty of male friends!
To paraphrase their words; did they "give" me a good mouth fucking or did I "take it" from them? I know I willingly played a part, but did I control a guy's semen? Did they feel any better than me when we were done? I don't think so! I often told them not to jack off, that they could feed me their full loads of semen. I was called many dirty and disgusting names as they laughed. These boys were simply wrong about me and the oddest thing was, that I seemed to know it!
I learned about boys and sex pretty fast and invented a game I called, "Who wins what?"
In my mind, we both won!
I'm not a woman, never was and I will never really be one, but as a youngster I thought we had the best thing going ever, we had a secret! And yes, the guys didn't want to be seen talking to me in day-light back then, and in fact I had to be careful not to get beaten up just for being a queer! The make-up and dress, the "hook ups" and low morals have changed nothing, they still want to take me into the bathroom stalls and parked cars, but they don't want to be seen talking to me and I'm still fearful of getting beaten up or worse!
Guess, some things never change!
I know I'm not a man and I'm not a woman, I'm just a simple homosexual who enjoys being a MTF Transvestite behind closed doors. Once word gets out that I suck cock, like to get fucked, and wear dresses and make up, I'm usually scratched off most female lists.
I feel that's all for the best.
An honest female most likely wouldn't want to waste her time fooling with me in the boy mask I wear. I think it's far better to show the real me because everyone can see that I can't be the big, strong, masculine man. I'm just like any female soul, I'm hoping for love but resigned to being a slut and getting only the NSA sex!
In many ways I'm exactly like a real woman, I'm seen by most men as a partner for nothing more and what I do is not much different from faking a climax. Ladies you know who you are!
When I sashay up to a register, nails polished, mini-skirt showing lots of nylon covered thighs, fake lashes glued in place, my tiny black clutch in my hand, I hope to enjoy the fact that every man's eyes are on me. I also do not delude myself that some eyes are looking at me with lots of disgust! Many females who once thought I was a man might even hate.
I doubt I make a better looking woman than most GGs do and I'm very sorry, ladies, I didn't mean to hurt you by pretending to be a man. It's simply not my fault that I am what I am. I can not accept blame for having fooled you for so long, I blame society!
If I'm seen as somehow cruel, again, I'm sorry.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Safety is safety, period
What Every Woman Should Know about Personal Safety is no different from what every Transvestite should know. IMHO safety is safety, period.
Darren and Beth Laur write; Have you ever felt frightened or intimidated when out walking alone? Have you ever wondered what you should do if approached by an attacker? Have you ever worried about becoming yet another home invasion statistic?
I have no doubt you can address each of these real life questions, but allow me to share my reality of growing up cross sexed. In a word, and to put it simply, it was sad.
I had all the usual failings of the “normal” gender bender, my own family even felt I was a failure. Having sex with a person of the same sex was looked upon unfavorably by them and was seen as a perversion. It was me that was seen as the ill minded one and it was me who actually encouraged the perverts of my day. I was an enabler of these sick minded sexual perverts because I was a willing homosexual participant. My family did not welcome me with open minds or arms, I was merely accepted because I was family not because I was homosexual.
I lucked out and met a man who dressed me and made me look every bit the feminine doll. I liked feeling like a doll and being treated like one by him too, I willingly accepted playing the female role for him. I was often sent to heaven by the sex I would have with him and I went out of my way and fully expected his “perverted” sex. I enjoyed my time with him.
Not unlike other T-girls in their fledgling stages, I wanted to be womanized. I felt the need to feed my female self. I went to places that I knew were unwholesome and unsavory and a bit dangerous but I was motivated by my hoping to become a sex victim, over and over again. I wanted to be feminized and didn’t care if my family thought poorly of me.
I was lucky to find men who were just looking for NSA sex and who didn’t mind where, or what, it came from!
Darren and Beth Laur also say that it’s unfortunate that we live in an increasingly violent society in which the fear of crime is ever-present. Personal safety has become an issue of importance for everyone, but I think it’s especially applicable to that fledgling T-girl.
Want to carry the great equalizer, a gun, for personal protection? You can buy one at any gun show and get a permit to carry it from your local police department. Rather than learn self-defense and attend safety seminars that scare you to death but teach you next to nothing, I’d recommend using the internet and asking the police for your particular state’s statutes regarding crime. And then commit them to memory!
I mention this only because what can happen to you once you reach a court room is very different from the actual event which brought you there in the first place. Many things, especially within the law, have a strange way of changing or taking on a live of its own. Don’t believe me? Be dressed as a woman and shoot someone!
According to Darren and Beth Laur the real issue for being safe is for the combination of reliable information which is coupled with the debunking of widespread myths regarding self-defense.
‘Violence; A writer’s guide’ is not about writing technique, it’s an introduction to the world of violence. It’s a book just for the parts that people don’t understand and usually get wrong. It’s not JUST the mechanics of people who live in a violent world but how they THINK and how they FEEL about what they do and what they see being done to them by the local law enforcement. How they understand it all is a real eye opener!
‘Meditations on Violence: A Comparison of Martial Arts Training & Real World Violence’ and ‘Facing Violence: Preparing for the Unexpected’ are both written by Rory Miller and I highly recommend them.
I was particularly impressed with Rory’s Instructor Development Course training and his experience in Crisis Communications with the Mentally Ill. His bio is very much worth reading! He sounds exactly like any person who pays attention.
Contrary to popular opinion, and multiple movies, your first line of defense is not a few well placed kicks to the savager’s groin, or expertly blocking and ducking animalistic punches to your face. When most people hear the term “self-defense” they think of exactly that, but true self-defense begins long before those actions would even scratch the surface. It begins way before that!
The first, and probably most important component in self-defense is, awareness. Awareness of yourself, awareness of your surroundings, and awareness of your potential attackers. His likely strategies will not be quite so obvious.
It’s a known fact that criminals primarily use the advantage of surprise and studies have shown that criminals choose victims who appear to be unaware of what is going on around them. Sitting around a table laughing and drinking and talking about the man date you got last week should not be considered. I’m also not so sure any of that “awareness” goes for the guy looking for a quick hook-up. Simply by giving the “appearance” of being aware and by projecting a “presence” may avoid altercations which may be commonplace on the street.
If you are approached I recommend you listen to what the guy has to say. Use your sixth sense or your intuition, whatever you want to call it, because it can be a powerful subconscious insight into situations and people. All of us have this gift but very few of us pay attention to it, we usually let our own animal loose to do the negotiations and I recommend we don’t. Learn to trust this power and use it to your full advantage. Avoid a person or a situation which does not “feel” safe .. in truth, you’re probably right.
It is a good idea to evaluate the deeper goals and practical usefulness of any self-defense program well before signing up. Your money is just as green as any other!
It was brought to my attention that Dr. Ruthless (you can just Google her) has You Tube videos on-line and she shows you practical, instinctive moves, based on speed and timing not power and strength. I’ve not seen them but I’m told they’re well worth watching and learning.
Any self-defense program worth its weight in salt should include simulated assaults with a fully padded instructor in a realistic rape and attack scenario. This allows you to practice, in full contact, what you’ve learned.
What if the unthinkable happens? You’re suddenly confronted by a person who demands that you go with him. Size up the scene. Does he have a weapon? How many T-girls are with you? How many men are there? The place could be a car or a dimly lit alley, a closet in a building, or some bushes. He might say he just wants to sexually use you for a few minuets. You need to decide quickly.
While it would seem exciting to obey him, you must learn to never be alone and never leave the primary scene of the crime. A worst case scenario is he may be very anti-trans! Statistics show you are far more likely to be seriously injured if you go with them than if you break and run away, even if he promises not to hurt you. Escape is always your best option.
Run away, yell for help, throw a rock through a store or car window (which you can easily carry in your purse for just this purpose!) Bottom line, get an audible alarm going! Do whatever you have to, and can do, to attract attention. If the criminal is simply after your purse or other materials, throw them one way as you run the other. While it’s a very good idea to run toward light and people you may not find any advocates there.
Unfortunately, no matter how diligently we T-girls practice this safety awareness we may still find ourselves in a physical confrontation. We are, after all, men in dresses and some of us are looking for sex! We willingly place ourselves in vulnerable positions with men and we’re almost always alone despite telling our fellow T-friends before hand. Whether or not you have self-defense training and, no matter what your age or physical condition, it is important to know and understand that you CAN and SHOULD defend yourself physically. You have both the moral and legal right to do so.
How far you take that defense is another issue!
Darren and Beth Laur write; Have you ever felt frightened or intimidated when out walking alone? Have you ever wondered what you should do if approached by an attacker? Have you ever worried about becoming yet another home invasion statistic?
I have no doubt you can address each of these real life questions, but allow me to share my reality of growing up cross sexed. In a word, and to put it simply, it was sad.
I had all the usual failings of the “normal” gender bender, my own family even felt I was a failure. Having sex with a person of the same sex was looked upon unfavorably by them and was seen as a perversion. It was me that was seen as the ill minded one and it was me who actually encouraged the perverts of my day. I was an enabler of these sick minded sexual perverts because I was a willing homosexual participant. My family did not welcome me with open minds or arms, I was merely accepted because I was family not because I was homosexual.
I lucked out and met a man who dressed me and made me look every bit the feminine doll. I liked feeling like a doll and being treated like one by him too, I willingly accepted playing the female role for him. I was often sent to heaven by the sex I would have with him and I went out of my way and fully expected his “perverted” sex. I enjoyed my time with him.
Not unlike other T-girls in their fledgling stages, I wanted to be womanized. I felt the need to feed my female self. I went to places that I knew were unwholesome and unsavory and a bit dangerous but I was motivated by my hoping to become a sex victim, over and over again. I wanted to be feminized and didn’t care if my family thought poorly of me.
I was lucky to find men who were just looking for NSA sex and who didn’t mind where, or what, it came from!
Darren and Beth Laur also say that it’s unfortunate that we live in an increasingly violent society in which the fear of crime is ever-present. Personal safety has become an issue of importance for everyone, but I think it’s especially applicable to that fledgling T-girl.
Want to carry the great equalizer, a gun, for personal protection? You can buy one at any gun show and get a permit to carry it from your local police department. Rather than learn self-defense and attend safety seminars that scare you to death but teach you next to nothing, I’d recommend using the internet and asking the police for your particular state’s statutes regarding crime. And then commit them to memory!
I mention this only because what can happen to you once you reach a court room is very different from the actual event which brought you there in the first place. Many things, especially within the law, have a strange way of changing or taking on a live of its own. Don’t believe me? Be dressed as a woman and shoot someone!
According to Darren and Beth Laur the real issue for being safe is for the combination of reliable information which is coupled with the debunking of widespread myths regarding self-defense.
‘Violence; A writer’s guide’ is not about writing technique, it’s an introduction to the world of violence. It’s a book just for the parts that people don’t understand and usually get wrong. It’s not JUST the mechanics of people who live in a violent world but how they THINK and how they FEEL about what they do and what they see being done to them by the local law enforcement. How they understand it all is a real eye opener!
‘Meditations on Violence: A Comparison of Martial Arts Training & Real World Violence’ and ‘Facing Violence: Preparing for the Unexpected’ are both written by Rory Miller and I highly recommend them.
I was particularly impressed with Rory’s Instructor Development Course training and his experience in Crisis Communications with the Mentally Ill. His bio is very much worth reading! He sounds exactly like any person who pays attention.
Contrary to popular opinion, and multiple movies, your first line of defense is not a few well placed kicks to the savager’s groin, or expertly blocking and ducking animalistic punches to your face. When most people hear the term “self-defense” they think of exactly that, but true self-defense begins long before those actions would even scratch the surface. It begins way before that!
The first, and probably most important component in self-defense is, awareness. Awareness of yourself, awareness of your surroundings, and awareness of your potential attackers. His likely strategies will not be quite so obvious.
It’s a known fact that criminals primarily use the advantage of surprise and studies have shown that criminals choose victims who appear to be unaware of what is going on around them. Sitting around a table laughing and drinking and talking about the man date you got last week should not be considered. I’m also not so sure any of that “awareness” goes for the guy looking for a quick hook-up. Simply by giving the “appearance” of being aware and by projecting a “presence” may avoid altercations which may be commonplace on the street.
If you are approached I recommend you listen to what the guy has to say. Use your sixth sense or your intuition, whatever you want to call it, because it can be a powerful subconscious insight into situations and people. All of us have this gift but very few of us pay attention to it, we usually let our own animal loose to do the negotiations and I recommend we don’t. Learn to trust this power and use it to your full advantage. Avoid a person or a situation which does not “feel” safe .. in truth, you’re probably right.
It is a good idea to evaluate the deeper goals and practical usefulness of any self-defense program well before signing up. Your money is just as green as any other!
It was brought to my attention that Dr. Ruthless (you can just Google her) has You Tube videos on-line and she shows you practical, instinctive moves, based on speed and timing not power and strength. I’ve not seen them but I’m told they’re well worth watching and learning.
Any self-defense program worth its weight in salt should include simulated assaults with a fully padded instructor in a realistic rape and attack scenario. This allows you to practice, in full contact, what you’ve learned.
What if the unthinkable happens? You’re suddenly confronted by a person who demands that you go with him. Size up the scene. Does he have a weapon? How many T-girls are with you? How many men are there? The place could be a car or a dimly lit alley, a closet in a building, or some bushes. He might say he just wants to sexually use you for a few minuets. You need to decide quickly.
While it would seem exciting to obey him, you must learn to never be alone and never leave the primary scene of the crime. A worst case scenario is he may be very anti-trans! Statistics show you are far more likely to be seriously injured if you go with them than if you break and run away, even if he promises not to hurt you. Escape is always your best option.
Run away, yell for help, throw a rock through a store or car window (which you can easily carry in your purse for just this purpose!) Bottom line, get an audible alarm going! Do whatever you have to, and can do, to attract attention. If the criminal is simply after your purse or other materials, throw them one way as you run the other. While it’s a very good idea to run toward light and people you may not find any advocates there.
Unfortunately, no matter how diligently we T-girls practice this safety awareness we may still find ourselves in a physical confrontation. We are, after all, men in dresses and some of us are looking for sex! We willingly place ourselves in vulnerable positions with men and we’re almost always alone despite telling our fellow T-friends before hand. Whether or not you have self-defense training and, no matter what your age or physical condition, it is important to know and understand that you CAN and SHOULD defend yourself physically. You have both the moral and legal right to do so.
How far you take that defense is another issue!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Forgive me for being negative
Great intention for Emily and Heather, they ought to be applauded for their efforts. The article I'm talking about is "Occupying DC's Metropolitan Police Department" and was posted by them in the Huffington Post on 11/1/2011.
My attention was drawn to the article by Stana, who I enjoy reading and blogs under the Femulate banner on here. I read the article and wish to beg for forgiveness for being negative, I may also simply be naive. To be sure, I'm not holding my breath.
So, what can one expect from MPD? Only 3 percent of the DC Metro Police currently attend "sensitivity training", and asking why clearly answers the question. Because the courses are optional.
It's my opinion, however, that if the courses were made mandatory, as suggested in the article, even at some additional expenditure of tax dollars many cops will NOT heed what is being taught. They will simply attend. I strongly suspect the mandatory courses will merely become ticket punches on the way up the MPD ladder.
Before you deny what I say, know this, I was an instructor for the US military for almost 5 years and this exact thing happens in all branches all the time! Well intended, solid, war fighting schools of various instruction are attended, but wasted, on selected people and it happens all the time. Don't expect to be told by just anyone, you need to ask that certain person in the military to know that what I'm saying is correct.
Bottom line, society is made up of humans and these humans are very well aware of the negative manner we Trans-persons are treated. I think Jesus Christ occupies my mind right now as its been human to just not care for a very long time.
I'm just very thankful for Nov 20th, it will always be International Transgender Day of Remembrance for me, and my prayers go out to those we've lost. I've lost a few good friends, too.
My attention was drawn to the article by Stana, who I enjoy reading and blogs under the Femulate banner on here. I read the article and wish to beg for forgiveness for being negative, I may also simply be naive. To be sure, I'm not holding my breath.
So, what can one expect from MPD? Only 3 percent of the DC Metro Police currently attend "sensitivity training", and asking why clearly answers the question. Because the courses are optional.
It's my opinion, however, that if the courses were made mandatory, as suggested in the article, even at some additional expenditure of tax dollars many cops will NOT heed what is being taught. They will simply attend. I strongly suspect the mandatory courses will merely become ticket punches on the way up the MPD ladder.
Before you deny what I say, know this, I was an instructor for the US military for almost 5 years and this exact thing happens in all branches all the time! Well intended, solid, war fighting schools of various instruction are attended, but wasted, on selected people and it happens all the time. Don't expect to be told by just anyone, you need to ask that certain person in the military to know that what I'm saying is correct.
Bottom line, society is made up of humans and these humans are very well aware of the negative manner we Trans-persons are treated. I think Jesus Christ occupies my mind right now as its been human to just not care for a very long time.
I'm just very thankful for Nov 20th, it will always be International Transgender Day of Remembrance for me, and my prayers go out to those we've lost. I've lost a few good friends, too.
Friday, November 25, 2011
THE BEGINNING: a good place to start
At the ripe old age of 10 I was walking home from school and saw the most incredible thing. At least, at the time, I thought it was pretty incredible. The whole incident began by me hearing a 15 year old boy quietly talking to himself in a patio in a vacant house. He was saying, "Come on, come on, oh yeah, I know your coming out of there". He got my attention and I admit I was curious.
I couldn’t see who he was talking to and he was standing with his back toward me. He turned around and what I saw caused me to become very interested. I squatted down behind a small bush, I didn’t make any noise and I don’t think he saw me. As I squatted I could clearly see him. My mouth was uncontrollably dropped open and I began to drool! No body had ever done that to me before.
I stayed behind my little bush and watched him. My breath was ragged and fast, my blood pounded in my head and my heart was beating a mile a minute. I couldn’t believe just looking at a boy’s private part could make me react this way! He sat down on a dead tree in the “garden” of the patio pulling on his cock with some varied rhythm. His cock was absolutely beautiful. It was way bigger than mine and white as can be. All the time he kept stroking and talking, stroking and talking. He had his eyes closed so I'm sure he didn't know I was watching him. I was actually staring at his hard-on and my drool ran uncivilly down the front of my shirt!
All at once, he said, “Oh God, yes!”
He closed his eyes tight, smiled up to no-one, and let out a big sigh of relief. I watched in great surprise as he shot all kinds of white stuff out onto the ground. He shot then paused, then discharged some more, then paused and discharged still more. His cream was every where! He slowed jacking off and finally stopped. His cock was still stiff and he flexed it. More white stuff seeped out of the head. From where I was hiding I couldn't tell much more than that but I could see his huge prick very easily. It was enormous and standing straight up. He took out a smoke and lit it up.
When his cock got soft he put it back in his jeans. When he passed me he looked surprised as he looked down at me, I didn't dare move, he was much bigger than I was, and he asked what did I see? I looked directly into his bulging crotch and told him I saw nothing. He said, “That’s good, little boy!” as he lit another cigarette and walked away. When he was gone I went into the patio to see the creamy stuff on the ground for myself. I stuck my finger in it and it felt sticky. It had no odor and it had no taste. Yes, I licked it off my finger! I left the patio and went home.
I never played with myself before but after what I saw I was anxious to give it a try. Later that night I tried it in my bed. I made certain my covers were up around my neck and took my shorts down. I put my tiny penis between my thumb and index finger and began to jack off. As I ejaculated on myself I must have made some happy sounds because my brother caught me doing it and told my mother. I got into a lot of trouble that night. She made me sit in a corner for a week after school rather than let me go out to play. During this time I just kept envisioning Jimmy, I could see him really clear especially the joy he showed when he finished. I now knew that same feeling.
Maybe the woods was the place to go. I'd check that out after I was off restriction.
I talked about jacking off with my friends at school in the play yard, but they weren't interested. Obviously they hadn’t done that yet. So my desire to do it just got worse. Then one day I found myself in the woods alone. I got the nerve to take my tiny dick out and began playing with it. I finally got myself hard but I was still kind of small. Another boy showed up and asked me what was I doing, I told him. He laughed at me. He told me I was doing it wrong. I didn't know there was a right way! He told me to kneel down and watch him, and learn. I did as he told me. He took his cock out and showed it to me with pride, it was much bigger than mine, and I was fully erect and he wasn't even hard yet. I was trans-fixed on it. Hypnotized almost.
He began to pull on it real slow and all the time he was telling me how he did it, slow at first and then getting faster and faster, until he was ready to "shoot". I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I asked him to explain it to me. He said he'd do better than that, he’d show me. I kept watching him move his hand along the shaft of his cock, up and down, going faster then going slow. Then he told me to move in real close and I'd see some creamy white stuff come out of the little hole in the end of his dick. He said I needed to be real close, I moved in. And he "shot"!
My immediate response was to block it but it was warm and kind of salty and it happened so fast! It had no real feel on my face and only a strange and unfamiliar taste but it was not offensive. All my sensations were searching for these things but I couldn’t find any so I took it. It smelled strong of musk, but it was not unpleasant. I was just kneeling in front of him and what I couldn’t get into my mouth was a cum mess all over my face. He finally said "I'm sorry.", but he was laughing at the same time.
As I watched him drip semen from his erect penis he asked me how it felt spurting onto my face? I told him what I felt. I added it was kind of slippery, too. I may have even told him I liked it. As it made it’s way to my lips he told me to lick it. I saw no reason why I shouldn’t, so I did. I only tasted a tiny bit of it and it tasted like chicken fat. He told me to use my finger to wipe it all into my mouth, he watched me do it. Then he said, “Ya know what? You should walk home with me.” I did.
Once we got to his house he told me to wait in the kitchen, he then got some magazines from his mother’s bedroom and showed them to me. They were filled with full page color pictures of women sucking men's cock. He said his mother hid them. He said it was no big thing and anybody could do that if they wanted. He told me it didn't matter if the person sucking wasn't a women or not, he said, “You just have to want to do it, that's all.” Then he asked me, “Would you like to do that with me?” I told him maybe. I said it was getting late and I had to go home. He said I could take a magazine with me, but I'd have to come back tomorrow and give it back. Maybe we could look at them again, together. I said that was OK with me, I tucked the magazine under my shirt and I left.
On the way home I stopped and looked at the magazine. The women were all made up and looked pretty, sexy I thought. They wore pretty underwear. They looked nice all dressed up in skimpy but pretty panties, garter belts, really high heels, shinny bras and seamed nylon stockings. Very sexy, yet very feminine. What they were doing with the men looked quite natural. Most of the women looked as if they were actually enjoying themselves. The men weren't visible, except for their dicks, so I didn’t really see much of them except for their huge hard ons, which were gigantic! Strangely enough, seeing their penis was very attractive to me and I felt a wetness in my underpants.
The women were shown in either full close up facial shots, or full length pictures from different angles. I’m guessing they were posed that way so you could see what they were doing and learn how they did it. The whole magazine seemed like a “How to” manual. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how natural it seemed to see women with their mouths filled with men’s hard ons. I found myself desiring the white cream the men would shoot. It wasn’t shown in the magazine but it was clearly a craving in my mind!
Jimmy told me to take the magazine to the bathroom for a long visit. He told me to go there and jack off in the toilet. He said that way I wouldn't get caught by my brother. He was right. I shot out some stuff, but not near as much as he did. It wasn't strong smelling but it felt great! I couldn't wait to tell him about it. The next day I went to his house and we talked about my bathroom experience. He said not to worry about the amount I shot because I’d make lots more of it the more I did it. He also said it would get stronger smelling too. He recommend that I jack off in my empty hand so I could lick it up. He said I should tell him if I liked doing that.
Then we sat on the couch and he told me to show him how I did it. I eagerly pulled my pants down and pulled my tiny dick out when he stopped me and told me to use his cock. He took his pants down and took it out, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. When he took it out and told me to put it in my hands, I just did. I began talking my way through it and began using his cock to show him. Then I realized what he was doing! He was teaching me. He told me to move my hand slow then fast, grab it soft then hard, do the length then “wash” the dick head. He smiled and said, “Damn. You don’t need much practice because you’re already pretty good at it.” I felt good about that and said I would practice on him any time he wanted, I told him how he was much bigger than me anyway. He just smiled and said nothing. His cock became so big and so hard I wanted to cry! Soon he told me it was coming, this time I was disappointed but ready. I picked up a nearby magazine and held it in front of his dick and said he could shoot on it!
He told me to take the magazine out of the way and just open my mouth. He said I was a naturally queer bitch. I was kind of surprised but did what he said. He inserted his dick head into my mouth and told me to be still. He was jerking himself off now, my hands were on the sofa positioned just out side of his legs. His hand was going very fast along the shaft of his cock. I held his whole dick head and suddenly, I could taste his semen. He kept telling me to swallow it and I did my best. I took almost all of it, it wasn't bad at all. It tasted just like chicken fat but a little salty, otherwise it was warm and OK.
He said I did good for a little boy and lifted me up off my knees. He gave me a cigarette and I choked on it. We both smoked. When I was leaving his house to go home he told me he liked me a lot. He smiled and said. “Maybe you could be just like those women in the magazines, we could have a lot of nasty fun!” I looked at the ground and told him, “I’m sorry I’m not a real woman for you but if I was I would be pleased to be yours and I just know we would have lots of fun.” He put his arm around me and told me not to worry, maybe we could just pretend. I said that would be good for me, but I also told him I didn't know how we could do that. He just smiled and said he'd think of a way.
I was so young I had no idea what he was asking of me, I didn't see where he was leading me. At the time it was just something new I wanted, he was just some guy who was teaching me. I was a very good student, eager to learn and even more eager to please. I was fully accepting that I was becoming a woman, his woman. Sexually speaking, I made up my mind I was going to be a woman for the rest of my life. I would often go to him and do my best to prove it.
He introduced me to an older man named Ralph one day, and said Ralph liked little boys a lot but he looked gruff. Jimmy said I didn’t have to be afraid of him, though. When I was introduced I wasn’t afraid of this man at all because he was a friend of my family’s! He worked for my father! We had a few days of play which turned into a few overnight weekends and had much fun. He would tickle me and touch me in my private places and tell me to touch him. I would stop playing and remind him that touching was not part of our game. He asked if I was insulted or embarrassed by his touching me, or my touching him, and I said I was not offended and only mildly embarrassed. We laughed. Soon we began to play in our underwear and we touched each other more and more. For the most part, I welcomed him touching me and I especially liked touching him.
One day, he sat me on his couch and told me he was going to do something special for me and that I should close my eyes. I got very excited and did as he told me and then told him I was ready! I felt him sit next to me on the couch and he put his hand on my thigh and kissed me full on the mouth. I opened my eyes because I felt his beard stubble scrape my face. He kissed me for a long time and he didn’t use his tongue. I got such a strong and wonderful feeling I began to like it and closed my eyes and responded. It was so strange, the only way I can think of to describe it was that I think I may have melted! I never got that feeling from any other man since and I loved him for doing that for me.
He said it was time I become his little woman, that’s when my cross dressing began.
I wanted to tell Jimmy how wonderful it had become for Ralph and me but Jimmy didn't show up for school for the rest of that year. I didn't know where he went so I asked his folks. They said he was visiting some relative in Oregon. An older friend of mine, who was also a very good friend of Jimmy’s and knew quite a bit about him and his history with me, told me he thought Jimmy was sent to juvenile hall for being beyond parental control and cutting school. I never saw him or Jimmy again.
I began to see Ralph more and more, I liked him. He bought all my foundations and make-up, my panties, my camisoles, my dresses and slips, even my heels and stockings, everything. He let me be feminine and taught me how to look like a woman which felt great. He began to take photos of me, I never looked so good! I can’t explain it but I wanted to go beyond just looks with him. Sex finally was in season. We graduated and more than just a few pictures became extremely graphic and very compromising. I enjoyed being a part of his photographs.
But it was my wanting photos of us that would bring us into court!
I couldn’t see who he was talking to and he was standing with his back toward me. He turned around and what I saw caused me to become very interested. I squatted down behind a small bush, I didn’t make any noise and I don’t think he saw me. As I squatted I could clearly see him. My mouth was uncontrollably dropped open and I began to drool! No body had ever done that to me before.
I stayed behind my little bush and watched him. My breath was ragged and fast, my blood pounded in my head and my heart was beating a mile a minute. I couldn’t believe just looking at a boy’s private part could make me react this way! He sat down on a dead tree in the “garden” of the patio pulling on his cock with some varied rhythm. His cock was absolutely beautiful. It was way bigger than mine and white as can be. All the time he kept stroking and talking, stroking and talking. He had his eyes closed so I'm sure he didn't know I was watching him. I was actually staring at his hard-on and my drool ran uncivilly down the front of my shirt!
All at once, he said, “Oh God, yes!”
He closed his eyes tight, smiled up to no-one, and let out a big sigh of relief. I watched in great surprise as he shot all kinds of white stuff out onto the ground. He shot then paused, then discharged some more, then paused and discharged still more. His cream was every where! He slowed jacking off and finally stopped. His cock was still stiff and he flexed it. More white stuff seeped out of the head. From where I was hiding I couldn't tell much more than that but I could see his huge prick very easily. It was enormous and standing straight up. He took out a smoke and lit it up.
When his cock got soft he put it back in his jeans. When he passed me he looked surprised as he looked down at me, I didn't dare move, he was much bigger than I was, and he asked what did I see? I looked directly into his bulging crotch and told him I saw nothing. He said, “That’s good, little boy!” as he lit another cigarette and walked away. When he was gone I went into the patio to see the creamy stuff on the ground for myself. I stuck my finger in it and it felt sticky. It had no odor and it had no taste. Yes, I licked it off my finger! I left the patio and went home.
I never played with myself before but after what I saw I was anxious to give it a try. Later that night I tried it in my bed. I made certain my covers were up around my neck and took my shorts down. I put my tiny penis between my thumb and index finger and began to jack off. As I ejaculated on myself I must have made some happy sounds because my brother caught me doing it and told my mother. I got into a lot of trouble that night. She made me sit in a corner for a week after school rather than let me go out to play. During this time I just kept envisioning Jimmy, I could see him really clear especially the joy he showed when he finished. I now knew that same feeling.
Maybe the woods was the place to go. I'd check that out after I was off restriction.
I talked about jacking off with my friends at school in the play yard, but they weren't interested. Obviously they hadn’t done that yet. So my desire to do it just got worse. Then one day I found myself in the woods alone. I got the nerve to take my tiny dick out and began playing with it. I finally got myself hard but I was still kind of small. Another boy showed up and asked me what was I doing, I told him. He laughed at me. He told me I was doing it wrong. I didn't know there was a right way! He told me to kneel down and watch him, and learn. I did as he told me. He took his cock out and showed it to me with pride, it was much bigger than mine, and I was fully erect and he wasn't even hard yet. I was trans-fixed on it. Hypnotized almost.
He began to pull on it real slow and all the time he was telling me how he did it, slow at first and then getting faster and faster, until he was ready to "shoot". I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I asked him to explain it to me. He said he'd do better than that, he’d show me. I kept watching him move his hand along the shaft of his cock, up and down, going faster then going slow. Then he told me to move in real close and I'd see some creamy white stuff come out of the little hole in the end of his dick. He said I needed to be real close, I moved in. And he "shot"!
My immediate response was to block it but it was warm and kind of salty and it happened so fast! It had no real feel on my face and only a strange and unfamiliar taste but it was not offensive. All my sensations were searching for these things but I couldn’t find any so I took it. It smelled strong of musk, but it was not unpleasant. I was just kneeling in front of him and what I couldn’t get into my mouth was a cum mess all over my face. He finally said "I'm sorry.", but he was laughing at the same time.
As I watched him drip semen from his erect penis he asked me how it felt spurting onto my face? I told him what I felt. I added it was kind of slippery, too. I may have even told him I liked it. As it made it’s way to my lips he told me to lick it. I saw no reason why I shouldn’t, so I did. I only tasted a tiny bit of it and it tasted like chicken fat. He told me to use my finger to wipe it all into my mouth, he watched me do it. Then he said, “Ya know what? You should walk home with me.” I did.
Once we got to his house he told me to wait in the kitchen, he then got some magazines from his mother’s bedroom and showed them to me. They were filled with full page color pictures of women sucking men's cock. He said his mother hid them. He said it was no big thing and anybody could do that if they wanted. He told me it didn't matter if the person sucking wasn't a women or not, he said, “You just have to want to do it, that's all.” Then he asked me, “Would you like to do that with me?” I told him maybe. I said it was getting late and I had to go home. He said I could take a magazine with me, but I'd have to come back tomorrow and give it back. Maybe we could look at them again, together. I said that was OK with me, I tucked the magazine under my shirt and I left.
On the way home I stopped and looked at the magazine. The women were all made up and looked pretty, sexy I thought. They wore pretty underwear. They looked nice all dressed up in skimpy but pretty panties, garter belts, really high heels, shinny bras and seamed nylon stockings. Very sexy, yet very feminine. What they were doing with the men looked quite natural. Most of the women looked as if they were actually enjoying themselves. The men weren't visible, except for their dicks, so I didn’t really see much of them except for their huge hard ons, which were gigantic! Strangely enough, seeing their penis was very attractive to me and I felt a wetness in my underpants.
The women were shown in either full close up facial shots, or full length pictures from different angles. I’m guessing they were posed that way so you could see what they were doing and learn how they did it. The whole magazine seemed like a “How to” manual. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how natural it seemed to see women with their mouths filled with men’s hard ons. I found myself desiring the white cream the men would shoot. It wasn’t shown in the magazine but it was clearly a craving in my mind!
Jimmy told me to take the magazine to the bathroom for a long visit. He told me to go there and jack off in the toilet. He said that way I wouldn't get caught by my brother. He was right. I shot out some stuff, but not near as much as he did. It wasn't strong smelling but it felt great! I couldn't wait to tell him about it. The next day I went to his house and we talked about my bathroom experience. He said not to worry about the amount I shot because I’d make lots more of it the more I did it. He also said it would get stronger smelling too. He recommend that I jack off in my empty hand so I could lick it up. He said I should tell him if I liked doing that.
Then we sat on the couch and he told me to show him how I did it. I eagerly pulled my pants down and pulled my tiny dick out when he stopped me and told me to use his cock. He took his pants down and took it out, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. When he took it out and told me to put it in my hands, I just did. I began talking my way through it and began using his cock to show him. Then I realized what he was doing! He was teaching me. He told me to move my hand slow then fast, grab it soft then hard, do the length then “wash” the dick head. He smiled and said, “Damn. You don’t need much practice because you’re already pretty good at it.” I felt good about that and said I would practice on him any time he wanted, I told him how he was much bigger than me anyway. He just smiled and said nothing. His cock became so big and so hard I wanted to cry! Soon he told me it was coming, this time I was disappointed but ready. I picked up a nearby magazine and held it in front of his dick and said he could shoot on it!
He told me to take the magazine out of the way and just open my mouth. He said I was a naturally queer bitch. I was kind of surprised but did what he said. He inserted his dick head into my mouth and told me to be still. He was jerking himself off now, my hands were on the sofa positioned just out side of his legs. His hand was going very fast along the shaft of his cock. I held his whole dick head and suddenly, I could taste his semen. He kept telling me to swallow it and I did my best. I took almost all of it, it wasn't bad at all. It tasted just like chicken fat but a little salty, otherwise it was warm and OK.
He said I did good for a little boy and lifted me up off my knees. He gave me a cigarette and I choked on it. We both smoked. When I was leaving his house to go home he told me he liked me a lot. He smiled and said. “Maybe you could be just like those women in the magazines, we could have a lot of nasty fun!” I looked at the ground and told him, “I’m sorry I’m not a real woman for you but if I was I would be pleased to be yours and I just know we would have lots of fun.” He put his arm around me and told me not to worry, maybe we could just pretend. I said that would be good for me, but I also told him I didn't know how we could do that. He just smiled and said he'd think of a way.
I was so young I had no idea what he was asking of me, I didn't see where he was leading me. At the time it was just something new I wanted, he was just some guy who was teaching me. I was a very good student, eager to learn and even more eager to please. I was fully accepting that I was becoming a woman, his woman. Sexually speaking, I made up my mind I was going to be a woman for the rest of my life. I would often go to him and do my best to prove it.
He introduced me to an older man named Ralph one day, and said Ralph liked little boys a lot but he looked gruff. Jimmy said I didn’t have to be afraid of him, though. When I was introduced I wasn’t afraid of this man at all because he was a friend of my family’s! He worked for my father! We had a few days of play which turned into a few overnight weekends and had much fun. He would tickle me and touch me in my private places and tell me to touch him. I would stop playing and remind him that touching was not part of our game. He asked if I was insulted or embarrassed by his touching me, or my touching him, and I said I was not offended and only mildly embarrassed. We laughed. Soon we began to play in our underwear and we touched each other more and more. For the most part, I welcomed him touching me and I especially liked touching him.
One day, he sat me on his couch and told me he was going to do something special for me and that I should close my eyes. I got very excited and did as he told me and then told him I was ready! I felt him sit next to me on the couch and he put his hand on my thigh and kissed me full on the mouth. I opened my eyes because I felt his beard stubble scrape my face. He kissed me for a long time and he didn’t use his tongue. I got such a strong and wonderful feeling I began to like it and closed my eyes and responded. It was so strange, the only way I can think of to describe it was that I think I may have melted! I never got that feeling from any other man since and I loved him for doing that for me.
He said it was time I become his little woman, that’s when my cross dressing began.
I wanted to tell Jimmy how wonderful it had become for Ralph and me but Jimmy didn't show up for school for the rest of that year. I didn't know where he went so I asked his folks. They said he was visiting some relative in Oregon. An older friend of mine, who was also a very good friend of Jimmy’s and knew quite a bit about him and his history with me, told me he thought Jimmy was sent to juvenile hall for being beyond parental control and cutting school. I never saw him or Jimmy again.
I began to see Ralph more and more, I liked him. He bought all my foundations and make-up, my panties, my camisoles, my dresses and slips, even my heels and stockings, everything. He let me be feminine and taught me how to look like a woman which felt great. He began to take photos of me, I never looked so good! I can’t explain it but I wanted to go beyond just looks with him. Sex finally was in season. We graduated and more than just a few pictures became extremely graphic and very compromising. I enjoyed being a part of his photographs.
But it was my wanting photos of us that would bring us into court!
Friday, November 11, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Just keeping it real . . . .
To begin with I'd like to say I'm a firm believer that gays (of all stripes) are born, not made!
As I read another blog I was reminded that my dad was a hunter and so were all of my uncles. They would often take my brother and male cousin but I was never invited. It's as if they knew that stalking, hunting and killing would not be my cup-of-tea. I watched them pack up the car with equipment and leave for one hunting or fishing trip or another. Knowing I was being left behind I would quietly cry from my bedroom window.
For some reason, probably the "quiet" and latent queer in me, I was soon OK staying behind. My mother would ask me to help her with the housework and I even got some kind of joy from doing the laundry, ironing, dusting, and vacuuming. She took me under her wing and taught me how to cook and bake and sew and I took every opportunity to learn about her underwear. She told me lots. I was easily hooked on all the materials, the smells, the tactile sensations, the belts, the buckles, and the buttons. Very easily.
I played sports in junior high and was very good at them! I was one of those kids who could climb the rope in gym class at lightening speed and I loved the peg-board. I was good at baseball, basketball, and football and could do my fair share of pull-ups and push-ups. At a huge surprise to my gym teachers, they actually seemed shocked, I gravitated to the less demanding sport of running cross country. I liked it! I also watched sports on TV but did not have an interest in fashion magazines or soap operas!
All that soon changed.
I had one older sister (she was a real whore!) who always told me about her many boy-friends and what they did. I always became excited and wanted her life-style as my own. I felt it was my true and natural place.
As time went on, although I didn't dress femme externally, I spent most of my time in female undies and behaving like a very naughty girl. When I was in grade school, it was confirmed by plenty of boys that I was a real-life cock-sucking queer! I gave up lots of head to them just because they asked! For some strange reason doing that felt very right.
It still does!
As I read another blog I was reminded that my dad was a hunter and so were all of my uncles. They would often take my brother and male cousin but I was never invited. It's as if they knew that stalking, hunting and killing would not be my cup-of-tea. I watched them pack up the car with equipment and leave for one hunting or fishing trip or another. Knowing I was being left behind I would quietly cry from my bedroom window.
For some reason, probably the "quiet" and latent queer in me, I was soon OK staying behind. My mother would ask me to help her with the housework and I even got some kind of joy from doing the laundry, ironing, dusting, and vacuuming. She took me under her wing and taught me how to cook and bake and sew and I took every opportunity to learn about her underwear. She told me lots. I was easily hooked on all the materials, the smells, the tactile sensations, the belts, the buckles, and the buttons. Very easily.
I played sports in junior high and was very good at them! I was one of those kids who could climb the rope in gym class at lightening speed and I loved the peg-board. I was good at baseball, basketball, and football and could do my fair share of pull-ups and push-ups. At a huge surprise to my gym teachers, they actually seemed shocked, I gravitated to the less demanding sport of running cross country. I liked it! I also watched sports on TV but did not have an interest in fashion magazines or soap operas!
All that soon changed.
I had one older sister (she was a real whore!) who always told me about her many boy-friends and what they did. I always became excited and wanted her life-style as my own. I felt it was my true and natural place.
As time went on, although I didn't dress femme externally, I spent most of my time in female undies and behaving like a very naughty girl. When I was in grade school, it was confirmed by plenty of boys that I was a real-life cock-sucking queer! I gave up lots of head to them just because they asked! For some strange reason doing that felt very right.
It still does!
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