Extra ordinary Life

      Trans Toons by Bethanyangelstar.deviantart.com.

"If I were young again I'd pay attention to that little known dimension, a taste of endless time."
Chris Smither,


It was only a couple of months ago that I described my desire to experience more of the ordinary life of those most extraordinary creatures, women.  That was not followed up by weekly outings, but now i hope to do so in the new year.  I find myself in retirement, more and more dressed femme or androgynous.  But like an alcoholic who has been maintaining for a while with a steady diet of wine spritzers,  I am feeling a powerful thirst, and dare I say need to slap on a skirt, and head to the mall and shop!  Like a deranged participant observer I need to be among them in their natural habitat,  the dress shops, salons and tea rooms.  In the Xmas season, I did just that, and even tried on some outfits for New Year's Eve.  As expected, the malls were a welcoming world of friendliness, with family friendly restrooms, and transgender friendly fitting rooms.  And when made, as my unfeminine voice guaranteed everytime I opened my mouth, there was always a smile, and the occasional stare of some other shopper, whether cold or warm, was a matter of indifference to me now that i know that the ground will not come up to swallow me whole, and consign me to some tranny hell where the drag is ill fitting and the fabrics of the coarsest wool.
As I am more and more out, I increasingly confront my bi-gendered existence, wondering if such an existence represents a dissociation in my personality.  Like Eve (the all about one, not the one with a taste for  apples), do I represent two personalities, each barely on speaking terms.  My first impression was perhaps, but I need to think more on it.  I don't for instance fully represent my masculine side, the one with children and even gasp grandchildren, and ex-wives, and co-workers.  I speak here as Belinda, who is mostly unattached, and rather narcissistic at times.  But the few who know both sides of me, don't see much difference (Haha)  And perhaps they are right.
So another year evaporates and despite the usual apocalyptic nonsense, another stands poised to begin.  There won't be an infinite supply of them, i increasingly realize, and so they never have been more precious.  I hope only for a few extraordinary adventures this year.  And to become fully comfortable with my own skin, (and to moisturize it daily!)  My wishes are the same for you, unless you are a boy in which case you should have the adventures, but moisturizing is optional.

Superstorm

"Oh, love me tonight, for I may never see you again"  
  Bruce Springsteen  4th of July Asbury Park

I walked the beach last week, the north end of Brigantine Island, a beach that I love literally or is that litorally.  My first time since Sandy and a place to fully realize her power.   The storm itself passed right over my home. But being a distance from the ocean, well nestled near the back bay,   I didn't see Sandy in her full fury.  But this beach (and many places north of here) is where She made vacuum of our cherished illusions of permanence.  The beach has changed.  Twice as large at low tide , and I imagine twice as small at high tide.  The line between the thick underbrush of dune grass, cockles, goldenrod, thorny vines and the beach erased, The marshes are sand covered, and the beaches are denuded.   And with that, things once hidden are revealed.  There is a familiar piece of the beach with some pilings which are obviously the ruins of a dock.  Now as the picture above shows,  other more elaborate structures long sleeping under the sand are revealed.  And of course one island further north, long beach island.  Structures that once stood in daylight, are shorn, and what remains buried beneath sand.
In a night, what was is no more, and what was no more is.   And we are surprised, aghast at the gentle billows turned savage, and so much of what we called ours, swept away by an indifferent hand.  What once moved is stilled, and all is movement that we thought stillness.   Still we makes our plans, and build our castles, forgetting that they will be toppled, and we will be stilled,.  Everything we do, everyplace we go, everyone we love, everything we are will disappear.  And so those forgotten ruins, provide a kind of solace, the forgotten will return.  Either that or embrace the oblivion.
Officially, I do the latter, well read in the Upanishads.  And yet as it approaches, I furiously exercise body and mind, assembling bucket lists, and arranging play dates.  There is little to be gained by denying what is evident from the first blink in the morning to the final blink at night.  I work assiduously on the castle.  Here is the room where I study sanskrit, and here is the room where I struggle to understand algebra and physics... (Has that sand just become too dry to bolster those walls?)  And of course the top floor is completely given over to walk in closets, and make up tables, and perhaps a few too many mirrors.  Gotta get that castle done!  So I can get a nice look from a high tower at approaching seas.

One of the Boyz II

It turned out that i was the only tranny who participated in the CFNM party.  There was another tranny who showed up, but they were in a funk about the whole thing, showing up in a thong and finally just moping semi-clothed in another room.  Sweety  i feel your pain, but if you dread being naked,  dont turn up at the CFNM party.  Thus i was the  only other transgendered participant, and I showed up in full makeup with scads of jewelry and with a special cod piece,( hair accessories carefully placed to create a panorama of butterfly sipping at flower.)  it might be argued that thismwas cheating, but this was definitely technically within the rules and got some nice compliments from the ladies, though one did remark that i didnt  make a very good naked male Since i Looked like a girl.   If you prick us do we not bleed?
So we had 5 women 5 men and me.  The women really enjoyed the event it seemed, having the naked men do various things ( foot massage, serving, forced bi) or doing things to them.  ( clothes pins, rope bondage, paddling). A couple of,the men really enjoyed the event as well, at least if we gauge them by how tall their little soldiers stood.  But certainly the women were jolly and chatty while the men were quiet and embarrassed.
Me?   I found the public humiliation of forced bi a bit,of a turn-on, being instructed to do this and that and i didnt even know my partner who was certainly turned on.  
I had gone to this party expecting self discovery, being forced to acknowledge my own maleness.   It turned out not to be so revealing, though i did put dating a boy on my bucket list.   When i do, i think i will take him to a CFNM party,  only this time i will have the good sense to wear a dress.

One of the Boyz

Heaven loves ya
The clouds part for ya
Nothing stands in your way
When you're a boy

David Bowie   "Boys Keep Swinging"


I have been fortunate to find some females who I can call friend, and socialize with in girl mode.  These Ladies are generally of the dominant persuasion,  and I have learned a great deal about real dominant females as opposed the the Pussy with a Whip fantasy dommes, that inhabit the dark recesses of so many male minds.  Some of the activities in this circle of friends is what folks in the D/S scene call play, and which the rest of the world might be prone to call foreplay.   So someone has cooked up the idea to have a CFNM party.   If you don't know what that is, you probably need to broaden your social circle.   This is a clothed female / naked male party.  I have found that this party concept has a fair appeal to some number of females in the D/S world, (and perhaps beyond!)   It is not however my idea of a fun party, or at least it wasn't when I first heard of it.
I shall now describe the transvestite's relationship to nudity.
 A beautiful girl starts tearing off her own clothes and whispers huskily.   "Let's get naked"   You look deeply into her eyes and say..  "What!  No Way!  I spent two hours getting dressed.  Are you crazy bitch!"

or something to that effect.   Trannies love clothes, and the fashion options are very limited when you are naked.  The other consideration is that you wore all those pretty clothes to hide something that is quite apparent when you are naked..  You are a man!

So my first inclination was to beg off this particular party, but these Ladies are my friends, and if they want a bunch of naked men to play with, then by golly, I am going to do my part!
By now having imagined what might transpire a bit,  I am actually a little excited by the whole prospect.  I am certainly not going to butch myself up, actually quite the contrary.  Make-up and Jewelry are allowed, and that includes genital jewelry.  I plan to adorn that part of me that screams  MAN  with some very cute jewelry.   That and a pair of breasts that are rather obvious when I am naked should highlight a certain gender ambiguity on my part.  I only hope that I don't get shown the door for failure to meet the standard of naked male.  This party is tomorrow.  I will file a report in a few days when I return, unless the women find me so irresistable that they keep me in a gilded cage.  If they do, I hope they permit me a few frocks, it is getting a little chilly around here.

Ordinary Life

Some like the high road, I like the low road Free from the care and strife Sounds corny and seedy, but yes indeedy Give me the simple life

Give Me the Simple Life Rube Bloom / Harry Ruby

So much of my time being Belinda is in a social whirl;  parties, clubs, mobs of t-girls and other assorted denizens of the demimonde.   There are some exceptions.  I have a friend or two that I quietly socialize with. But all in all, Belinda is a party girl.   I actually have spent very little time out in the world, in daylight at the malls, and the town centers trying to pass as a sweet older lady, who spends minimal amounts of time frightening small children.  The reasons for this can be summarized fairly easily,  1) While I emerge from my house here with an appearance that is decidedly androgynous as often as not,  I am not in the habit of launching a Belinda outing from my house.  I am usually getting dressed at someone else's house (see mobs of t-girls and other denizens of the demimonde).  2) Bathrooms.  I generally am terrified of using the Ladies Room, and as Belinda cannot use the Men's.   3)  Most of my life the thought of going about the normal world dressed as Belinda,  would give me rabbit eyes, and jelly knees.
Reason 3 is pretty much a thing of the past for me now, and for my Saturday of Femmy Fun, 1) was taken care of by staying over a friends, after a party, and dressing as Belinda there in the morning.  The day was as simple as it was significant.   Breakfast,  Strolling in the Park,  Hair Salon,  Check into the Raven in New Hope for a room so I could spend the night there at a fabulous party.  Breakfast was uneventful eating out with friends, something I have done a million times.  The park was lovely, on the Delaware River on a perfect day.  I had a soda, I had a water...  OH I had to pee!  Off to the Ladies with nothing to protect me but a pair of Versace Sunglasses.  Easy as pie.. i entered the stall, some other girls did the same, they departed, I departed.. total stealth.  I did notice that the Ladies though unacquainted, did chat a bit at the wash basin, and that of course reminded me of my FATAL FLAW.  I don't attract much attention as I go about my girly business when I am dressed appropriately.  In this case, I was wearing a long dark skirt to hide my chigger bites. ( i live in New Jersey after all), a pink blouse, and a pink jacket with a pearl pin I got in the flea market  I looked like my grandma I imagine and everyone was smiling and friendly.  In New Hope, when I went to WAWA,  a cop parked next to me, and he smiled and said hello.  That is a first!   Oh right my FATAL FLAW,  my voice.  I have never really worked on it, and when I speak I get made.  This is what I dont want to happen in the Ladies Room as a friendly lady remarks to me about how lovely a day it is.  I have decided to work on a feminine voice, motivated by a desire not to be involved in incidents where friendly women, flee  the restrooms hastily.
Oh right I almost forget the Beauty Parlor.  This is my third trip, to have my hair worked on, but the first time I came as a girl.  Everyone was lovely at the Hair Salon.  My women do talk a bit!  And they talked with me,  about the ordinary things of ordinary life.   And I croaked back in my husky baritone.  There will be more excursions into ordinary life.  I like ordinary life.  This is the real woman's life.  I get all melty just thinking about it, and I am only about a full octave away from it.

Femmephiic? Femmephobic?

"Don't you think it needs a woman's touch to make it come alive?"
Mick Jagger.. Live with Me.

I have lately been thinking about forced feminization fantasies.   These fantasies have always been powerful erotic triggers for me.  In particular before I really wore girls stuff while masturbating, I fantasized about being forced to wear girls stuff.  Recently I have begun to think about the forced feminization fantasy as a dynamic that grows out of two forces.  The first is Femmephilia, a love and desire for things femme, where femme means that which is traditionally associated with women, female interests.  The second force is Femmephobia.  This is a term I found recently on the internet.  Here is a lucid description   Femmephobia is the denigration of things feminine, and this is a cultural factor that is particularly though not exclusively directed at boys and men.
In the typical forced femme fantasy, a boy or a man is feminized by a woman   This feminization is introduced in a context in which punishment occurs  (petticoat punishment), or it is introduced in order to have power over the male.   In either case, the experience is both humiliating and erotic for the male victim.  The elements of femmephobia and femmephilia are intermixed in these stories.   The male is often weak, or naive.  In this way he doesn't have the power to resist his feminization, and in his heart frequently there is a question does he want to, because frequently these actions forced on him are his own secret femmephilic desires.  In fact his desires are so femmephilic that they frequently involve the most uncomfortable or childish or slutty feminine attire.  The sissy is secretly more femmephilic than the average woman, while sharing the femmephobia of other males, which is reflected in his feelings of humiliation, and his need to be "forced" to dress as a girl.
If we were prone to psychodynamic explanations of  fantasies, then these fantasies are a begging to be analyzed.  Does the powerful female represent one's own Id , while the weak and malleable victim represents the insufficiency of ego, which is trapped by the cathexis of a satin corset?   Probably,  but who can afford psychoanalysis.    Instead I am left with my own two cents.  However these fantasies arise, they take on a life of their own.  In my case, I have had numerous interactions with real dominant women, and i know perfectly well that these interactions have not and will not in the future unfold like forced feminization fantasies.
  "I want to be turned into a girl."
"Oh please don't turn me into a girl!"
The Domme is like... "duh.....later".
 So rationally I know these fantasies don't really function in the real world.  I have sort of outgrown them fully realizing that the only force which may be involved in my own feminization is that force you would need to take this pencil skirt from my cold dead hands.
Nonetheless.. give me a good forced femme story...and I am all a-flutter!
Go figure.

Petticoated Re-enactors

"Past times are pastimes"   Marshall McLuhan.

I participated in another tea party.  I think I have been involved in 5 so far this year, so in my social circles tea parties are fairly common.  My tea party took place at an event where there were other elaborate scenes including a pageant for little girls over the age of 21, and an equestrian event.
I have been thinking about such events as tea parties, which from one perspective are sorts of re-enactments of historical events.  I think they are not thought of that way, because most tea parties don't end in a pile of corpses, (unless you go to a Borgia tea party).  My first experience with this sort of role playing was when I attended The Sissy Maid Academy,  no longer in existence, which I described in this blog, two and a half years ago.    It was a transforming experience for me.  I learned about the possibilities of bringing some of these common tranny fantasies to life in a safe and insane environment.
So I have done a lot of them now, and while they are clearly for the serving staff, the realization of a sexual fantasy,   For the mostly  female guests, they are a form of re-enactment.  Some of the ladies wear period clothing, and the elegance, and formality of the proceedings hearken back to a time when there were Ladies and Maids, and good stuff like that.  And for this server at least, the excitement of the event is less sexual than it is good old fashion playing including princesses, and saucy maids.  They latter I guess being missing from most young girls dress up repertoire.   And if you look beyond the tea pots and tables into the larger event, there are lots and lots of adults playing dress-up  in leather and lace, and playing together.   The accepted term in fact for scenes between consenting adults at these event is "play".  And if you move beyond the parking lot of the event and peer into the community that surrounds it,  there are all sorts of people hunched over screens engaged in World of Warcraft, and Second Life, and a host of other adventures beyond my limited familiarity.   And of course in the closets of some number of my fellow fanatics,  the uniforms of old wars, and for a few Star Wars!...  Quite a bit of fantasy it seems to this observer in and out of the bedroom.
For me the tea party is a place where I may meet people who may be interested in pursuing more explicitly sexual  play, but at the party they really only want tea served by adorably dressed maids.   And in that time and place that is really all I want: to be adorably dressed and competent maid and to serve buckets of tea, and sweet and savoury delights.   An example;  just last night I was at a party, and began talking with a charming woman.   She remarked  "Didn't you serve at the tea party?"   referring to the event of the week before.   Small world! ( At least I live in a small world)   I was delighted to converse with her, and she took some interest in me.  (I mean what dominant lady in her right mind wouldn't having seen me walk the walk and talk the talk  ("Can I serve fill your cup Maam?")
And these are truly remarkable times we live in, where you can be a confederate captain, a cross dressed member of the red army,  a sissymaid, or a Wookie.
 If you don't believe me, look it up in the Wookiepedia.

Ananda in this Floating World

Here I go and I don't know why, I spin so ceaselessly, 'til I lose my sense of gravity...  
Patti Smith,  Dancing Barefoot


Sometimes I'm dancing on air, but i get scared. 
 Jagger / Richards,  Can Your Hear the Music


Ananda.    This is a word worth exploring.   Sat/cit/ananda.  existence/consciousness/bliss.  This is described as the subjective experience of the supreme soul,  the Atman, God, which can be achieved by seers in a meditative state.   But ananda is also one objects of the the karmendriyas, the fundamental organs of action according to the Samkhya philosophy that is the basis of yoga.   The karmendriyas are 5.   mouth , hands, legs, anus, and sex organs.  And ananda is what you do with the sex organs.   what Alex  in Clockwork Orange  called  "the old in and out".    So the same word is used for orgasm and the subjective experience of the divine.  
It wasn't long ago,  I wrote about a sexual religious experience so these things matters have been on my mind this summer.   
The week coming promises to be a workshop on Ananda in all its manifestations.   This weekend I am going to a BDSM weekend long event with a dear friend.  Then I am going directly to an ashram for a week of meditation and as it happens a week of studying the Samkhya philosophy.  
The weekend event will include a tea, for which I will have some lovely accessories my Lady friend put together.  So it will be not Tea and Sympathy, but Tea and eat your hearts out you drab sissies!  I am however on the hot seat as my Lady friend requested that I provide a surprise to spice the event up.  Surprises are not something I do well, so I m still mulling over the possibilities.   I have been practicing a little High Protocol service which I will give her as an option.  There is also an age play pageant.   I know she enjoys age play, so I may enter.  At any rate, I think the weekend will offer an opportunity for a fun blog post.  ( I can perhaps surprise her with that)  after I return from the ashram, unless of course i enter the satcitananda of  the uncreated Brahman, in which case the rest of you are on your own.  

Stimulus and Response

Oh it ain't no good unless it hurts just a bit
John Cougar Mellancamp


It wasn't so very long ago that I referred to the people in the BDSM world as as the leather people.  I understood them to be kin in the big kinky family, but I thought of myself as separate.  My interests were in role playing, dominance and submission certainly, but I had no particular interest in the dynamic of pain.  At an event I had heard someone say that play was synonymous with pain, and thought that odd.   That was a couple of years ago, and my own relationship with BDSM has evolved.  More particularly, i have played with others and found that there can be much sensuality in giving and receiving pain in an intimate setting.  A Mistress favored me recently with a play date, involving a cane, and well .. there is no way around it.. canes hurt.  But the sensual way that She caned me, the attention to my body, to my reactions.  Well it was very erotic.  When I remarked following the session that the cane was rather painful when delivered to the back of the legs, she remarked that the ritual we were engaged in was called S&M for a reason.  Well said,  Mistress.
These experiences of pleasure at the end of pain parallel my experiences with avoiding orgasm, or more specifically avoiding ejaculation.  I seldom masturbate to ejaculation, and when i do, it is generally because i let something go too far if you know what i mean.  So being unpartnered at the moment, it is actually quite some time since ...  I fairly frequently engage in activity with vibrators, and other feminine fun, but with discipline that does not end in messiness.   I connect that discipline the pain of denial increasingly with a general increase in my sexual awareness.  I feel more often like a girl sexually... even having girly orgiastic spasms on the beach, as I described in the last post.   I have been trying to eat right and exercise lately, using a device in the basement to sprint until I am exhausted, which is taking longer than the initial 35 seconds thankfully.  Of course running is painful... I deal with it best by attending to something else, but today i noticed that running ...well it just made me feel all sexy... sexed up...  aroused.  Oh my!  Is it the pain that is arousing?   Is it the general arousal associated with my chastity?    At any rate I no longer find myself apart among the leather people.  I am the leather people.
I am off to the ashram for religious renewal for a week or so.    I almost forgot to mention for the record, I went to the hair salon and had my hair bleached.  It took 3 hours!  talk about feeling girly!  I had so much foil in my hair that I was picking up signals from Rigel.  This was the final step in my plan for moderate feminzation.   But more on that upon my return.

On the Beach

I am fortunate to live fairly close to a town that at its north end provides miles of fairly empty beach.  A little stroll up the beach, and you can find yourself alone with the ocean.   It is an experience that I have come to treasure more and more.
The ocean....imagine.. it formed 4 billion years ago, it covers most of the earth's surface.
Walking along the shoreline,  over and over hearing the sound of it.  Perhaps this is where the the sacred OM was first heard... the syllable of creation.    A few times now..lying in the sand by the ocean..i have had intense experiences... so intense as to be sexual.
The ancients described material existence as consisting of basic elements,  earth air fire and water.     The elements were alive and compelling at the shoreline... Earth.. turned to grains of sand by the ocean's power,  Air, the endless wind blowing ever shoreward, Fire  older than the ocean... heating my naked skin,  and Water...tasting it on the air.. hearing it,. smelling it,  feeling it... seeing it.. Mother Ocean, Goddess Ocean.
Two aspects of the experience have stayed with me.  First was the feeling of the greatness of this force that I was connecting with.  billions of years old, covering the earth, and that perhaps just an aspect, someone greater.  It was not difficult to realize my smallness, my momentary-ness.  And more i felt as if She was there all around, except for this darkness, or a fear, which was me.  I was that which resisted dissolving into the vastness for now.
The other aspect of this experience was that it was... sexual.  I found myself touching myself, particularly my breasts to enhance my consciousness of Her.  There is no question that the energies experienced in meditation have connections to sexual energy.  I have for a while associated intensity of energy in meditation with habits of controlling my sexual behavior from day to day, particularly refraining from orgasm.  ( Something which is easier for a girl on hormones than what those poor boys go through)   Still, this was an experience more like masturbation than meditation.   Specifically a fantasy of sexual encounter with Devi.  And you can't really say that a sexual encounter with the Goddess who is eternal, all pervading, and all knowing is a fantasy, at least I don't think you can.   At any rate, it is an experience that compels me, and I do want to repeat it.
But I may need to be patient.    Unfortunately,  even the most deserted beach i know is not completely deserted in June, and I need to feel alone to have this experience.  Worse, I spotted a green head fly near the dunes this week.. The foretaste of a horde.    The unforgettable experience of being repeatedly bitten by a swarm of hungry flies could be a kind of fore-play to a creature more splendid than I.   In fact, the only relief at that point is total immersion in the Ocean, though they do seem to have an uncanny ability to keep biting while underwater at least for a little while.  So I have a little time to think about my next encounter.  Being a lapsed Catholic, I am rather startled by the whole thing.  The little boy inside says... "that is not an acceptable way to know God. "  but then again St Theresa who is a better Catholic than I ever was, had experiences that might make a greenhead blush.
So following her example, i shall walk shoeless on the deserted shore, and seek ecstasy, just as soon as the flies leave.

Forever Female

"Philosophy is a walk on the slippery rocks.  Religion is a light in the fog"    Edie Brickell

It's summer time when the sensible retire to the beach shielding their faces from UV with the latest offering from James Patterson, and the unhinged search obsessively for discussions of the gender of the soul on the world wide web.  This offering will not give away any kickers regarding Alex Cross's latest exploits.
Surprisingly the immortal soul would appear to be a rather critical piece of the theological edifice, but descriptions of its quirks and qualities seem far removed.  Not much that rises above the description of a ghost or a wish or a hunch.  There seems to be a fair consensus that it is the type of thing that can get some nasty stains, which aren't going to get "Shouted Out", unless the shouting invokes the term Hallelujah liberally, otherwise there seems to be surprising indifference to what is going to die and what is going to continue.

I not surprisingly am interested in the question of whether the soul is gendered.   I have touched upon it briefly in a couple of recent entries,  Gender Queery , and Case-of-miss-taken-identity where I briefly talked about the biological and cultural side of things, where gender can get quite complicated and crazy.  The question of the soul is interesting because it is a question about essence.  Is gender an essential part of me, which is separate from my body and upbringing?  There is certainly an idea like that common in the transgender community when people talk about being born in the wrong body.  If I am born in the wrong body, then one conclusion would be that my soul has a different gender than my body.

In general,  I have found that religious traditions that teach a single ensoulment,  (they deny re-incarnation), are more likely to ascribe gender to the soul, but there isn't a consistent message.  It seems that the Bible, Quran, etc is either ambiguous or mute on the subject.  The philosophical traditions in which Western Theology grew, generally reflected the cultural norms which were everywhere in the ancient world, which is to say that " boys are better than girls"..nyah nyah nyah.  Having defined a weaker sex, it kind of messed up the even playing field that those immortal souls are supposed to be on,  so in my interpretation, the issue is largely ignored in doctrine.  For a very nice discussion of the issue from a wonderfully sensible Christian perspective,  I found a site which is more about the discussion of the immortality of souls..  Myth-one.com
There it is argued that immortal souls are not gendered, because gender exists to support reproduction which is not a something the immortals want to get involved with.  (Even a low birth rate leads to horrendous population problems when nobody dies)
 On the other hand, the popular view seems to be that if I am to survive death, then I certainly am gendered, and so that is that.   One religion clearly states that gender is eternal, supporting that popular view.  That is LDS, the mormons.  A fascinating discussion of this Gender, Mormonism and Transexuality  shows that while immutability of gender was declared by church leaders  to oppose some ideas in the transgender community regarding the mutability of gender.  These ideas of church leaders are quite consistent with the traditional view of a female or male soul being born in the wrong body.

This morning, I was reading the upanishads to get away from all this gender nonsense, and they supplied the answer without my asking , because the issue is central to the Eastern religious traditions.

naiva strI na pumAn esa na caivAyam napumsakah ....

This is not like a woman, not like a man, and not like a hermaphrodite...

Shvetashvatara Upanishat

and so....  I would perhaps like to envision my real self as forever female. After all i am accumulating a wardrobe that should make it through the first half of eternity.  What?  Souls don't require clothes?  They don't accessorize?  Now what really would be the point of that?   ... but probably not to be....Of course a couple of reincarnations as a tall thin red head...and then I'll hurry on to nirvana,   I promise.  OK I lied.. in the lastest one... well I didn't see it coming, but it turns out that Alex Cross was born a woman.. go figure.

Breasts, Bras and Boys

"Mess with the Goods... You Gotta Pay".

 Tattoed Love Boys  

Chrissie Hynde.

( Photo: Ms. Belinda Lee,  Actress,  1935-1961)

Stage 1:  Bra’s … who wears bras?  Bras are for girls.

At first it was the panties.  Always the panties.  It was that way for years.  I only have one older memory of bras.  I was at my Aunt’s house.  I was in her bedroom fully clothed sitting in front of her makeup table.  My Aunt was better endowed than my mother, and I remember sort of half wearing one of her bras.  Suddenly she was right there.   I don’t remember exactly what was said.. It sort of went like this:
1) She knew I was trying on one of her bras,
 2)  I was embarrassed,
 3) We never spoke of it, and life went on.

 I was in my mid-teens.

Even when I began to expand my interests,   nighties,  full slips,  lingerie in general… I never made too much of bras.  My main interest in them at that time was what they were concealing on the girls I knew.

Stage 2:  Filling a bra with nylons for that girlish figure.

So  bras were only a slight interest, when I began  dressing fully, or at least wearing skirts and blouses, and that didn’t really happen until I was married, which is my mid twenties, but even then.. my wife’s bras didn’t fit,  I mostly wore found items, and bras weren't a big part of it. 

So it was really after my first marriage ended that I began to wear bras at  dress up, I had purchased a few at   Lee's Mardi Gras.  I was in my early thirties.. Iwas slowly becoming interested in my own breasts. 

Stage 3:  I wish I had breasts! 

And things  developed from there.   I was in my fifties when I really began to embrace the bra, especially after my second marriage collapsed.  Then I began to acquire bras that fit better,  Underwire bras, that gave me a little extra lift.  The perfect bra?  satin, underwire to give my pathetic titties a little lift, without padding, so that anything brushing over my nipples.. (like my fingers!) felt great.  I began to wear them to bed!  I just felt totally butch if my chest wasn't encased in a sweet satin bra.

That went on for some time,

Stage 4:  I have breasts! And I love my bras. 

It was only in the past five years  that I began to work in earnest to try to fill those satin bra cups.  Herbal concoctions, and finally my friend estrogen.  

Wait some monthes.. some years, and voila… small but respectable titties.. and bras always with my outfits.
No more bras to bed.  Wearing them during the day and evening like a respectable woman, and really nothing.. nothing made me feel more like a woman than a bra.  

Stage 5:  Flashing the Goods

So this week I was invited to a party.  Not normally my kind of party is was a house party for T-girls and men.  Not a XX chromosome pair to be found anywhere.   I have been interested for some time in trying out some flirtatious fun with men.  They have been notably absent from my playlist, if you don't count sissy boys.  

So... I just thought..  corset, sheer silk blouse.. bra?  well no.. how about no bra.  My assets just visible.. my slightly enlarged nipples.. showing through my sheer printed blouse.   That might interest a man.

So I learned a lesson every girl is knows by the time she is 20.  You want to get a boy's attention,  flash him a little decolletage.   It's really true... simple creatures... very simple creatures.. who knew?

At any rate, I know now what it is to be oogled, and I know how forward men can be.   The party was just getting started when he took me into another room with him, and he told me that he had noticed how nice my breasts looked... He wanted a closer look... and well he wanted more... but this isn't that kind of blog.. and I am not that kind of girl.   Well anyway .. this isn't that kind of blog

So my romance with bras has come full circle, and I have learned the virtues of a sheer silk blouse.

Androgyne About Town.

"Ah here's the androgyne! Helen cried as I entered the room".
 Miss High Heels. 1931, privately published, Author unknown.

 Androgyne. A word that has always had a certain fascination since I first encountered it in the quote above. It has been a long slow awakening for me. Fetishist? Transvestite? Transsexual? Should I  finally reject them all and embrace the taunt that Helen had tossed at Denise,  "Androgyne".

Andros and Gynos  , male and female united in a single individual.  In the tantric traditions, the divine androgyne is an ideal form

Called ArdhanarIshvara  (ardha-nari-ishvara;  half - woman - god), the androgynous divinity is worshipped as a union beyond the oppositions of male and female.   Alas in Hindu culture, those who come closest to a physical manifestation of this synthesis, the Hijra, or third gender, MtF transgendered individuals  are not necessarily treated so well.  (Cancel the flight to Delhi)   Prostitution being a common profession, due in part to the usual discrimination against TG individuals one sees in the largely traditional society.

I frequently these days at home dress androgynously.  I wear bra and panties, perhaps woman's slacks, camisole with my modest titties prominent, open shirt over it  very light makeup, if any.  Some rings, necklace,  boy earrings.   My hair is in a pony tail, with a femme flourish, a nice hair attachment or teased out bangs.  femme socks.  Out I dress boy or girl.  Ok  maybe slightly swishy boy, or girl.

This is all on my mind, because I plan to go in a couple of days to a "munch" which I was invited to soemtime ago by a charming woman who recommended the group to me.  A munch is basically a meeting in a diner or something like that where kinky people can come and meet each other in an informal setting.  ( sort of like the school dance for adults)  The munch is in a restaurant during regular business hours, so they request that people not look too outlandish.   She told me that I passed as a woman, so I could attend the munch as one.  (Did I mention that she was utterly charming if not perhaps completely truthful)  But I don't really intend to do that since I have never been to this place, and I am going by myself.
So I thought I would consciously go androgynously, dressing sort of as I dress at home,  effeminate boy/girl.  

I have never really consciously done this, so I am a little nervous,  Its a boy/girl world,  If  in a dress, they call you Maam, and in jeans they call you Sir.   Androgyne?  I guess they will just say Hey You.

And there is one big problem that the androgyne faces, that the ardhanarIshvara never had to confront,

Bathrooms.    There are Boys & Girls rooms ( or perhaps Buoys and Gulls...i live by the shore).  And while there is occasionally the blessed unisex w.c.   There are never specific accommodations for the androgyne, which is to say, I need to choose, and to choose the Lady's room.. well that it only an option for me in full femme mode, and usually I am in a place that I know very well.  I hate  loud noises... screams, police sirens.

So there you have it except for my jacket and my sneakers, I won't likely be wearing a stitch of men's clothing,..... tits, hairdo, jewels .... not fabulous... but certainly not the repellant drab.

 Still  (sigh!!)  it must be the Gents......

Oh the life of the androgyne is filled with humiliations.... but not quite what Denise nee Dennis imagined.

Good Vibrations II : Freeing the Girl Inside

At the very heart of the desire to femulate for some of us, lies the desire to become entirely female, if only perhaps on an imaginative plane .  And what better way to become that, then to have a fine mind stretching, body aching, throat tightening female orgasm, which i shall call an Oh!gasm.   But is it possible?   I have been to the other side, and I bring joyful tidings for all the crossdreamers, femulators,  trans this and trans that transformers.  It is possible.
The secret to the acheiving a female experience of excitement and Oh!gasm is simpler than you would think, and of course it is available on the internet if you know where to look.  But where would I look you ask?
Well girls love to talk, and they don't mind one bit talking about masturbation and even helping out the girl here and there who has been completely head twisted and confused by the orgasmic ideologies of our crass commercial and phallocentric world.   But I am going to spare you all that research  (if you want to be spared it) and lay out the essentials.   It was explained to me by a Lady friend on new years eve a year ago, but for some of us it takes some time to fully understand.

The key is to realize that male and female anatomy are not all that different.
So how do you attain the oh-gasm! that you have been craving?
Simple follow the instructions for girls.... make the proper adjustments where necessary.

Step 1  - (for boys only)  Feminize!

I have been feminizing my sex parts for some time.  In my case,  I as a normal practice tuck my testes up into the place where they descended ( if this is new to you   see this simple explanation. (don't tape) .  The male member is folded over and between the legs, and if you don't have a pair, get a pair of  TIGHT silky panties to hold it all together.  Now you should appear properly feminine down there.
Don't forget your breasts while feminizing.  As my posts make obvious, i have used hormones to feminize my breasts, and that works great!,  but if you haven't, get yourself a sexy bra with underwire so that you can push them up a bit.   Bra and panties are all you need.  Nighties, corsets etc are optional.  Make yourself girly and sexy.

Step 2   Lie in bed and bring a friend...

No not that kind of friend silly,  my new friend miss lelo.  If you don't have a vibrator you are going to need one.  Vibrators are optional for girls, but not for you.  Lie back and begin to fantasize, put yourself in a nice sexy place.  Optional for you and the girls is a dildo.   That is for if you want penetration.  Penetration is not necessary for oh!gasm.  It's optional. I think at least the first few times that you will find it distracting.

Step 3   Set vibrator to low, situate it and turn it on.

Situate it... Here's where you need to experiment for best results.   You have created for yourself an imaginary vagina, by tucking yourself into your sexy panties.  You don't have vaginal lips, but you do have a nice big clitoris down and back, as well as the sensitive regions of the t'aint, and anus.   I don't recommend direct clitoral stimulation.  Situate it somewhere nearby.   Once you turn it on, lie back and feel it.  Your vagina, your thighs, you whole pubic area... see how sexy and turned on they feel.   You are not a boy... You may feel tightening.  It is just blood rushing to your aroused vagina and clitoris... just continue to feel how your arousal is distributed throughout your loins..if it wants to spread up through your stomach and down your legs... let it...feel it..   Do you feel shivery?  You are on the right path.

Step 4  Begin to explore rhythmic contractions

You need to know how to do Kegel exercises.  It is simply exercising the muscles that control urination.  These are the same muscles that control vaginal contractions.  If you need further instruction see internet. You have been practicing haven't you?  Simply contract ..release... contract... release...  lying there with your hands just across you chest ..below your breasts, or down caressing yourself.  You should be feeling pretty good ...starting to.  If you have chosen to use a dildo..you can insert it.. but remember that the vaginal muscles are not the same as the one's in the anus.. Feel the rhythm... You are directing energy in.  Breathing deeply and  bringing more and more into your vagina...feel the sensations enter into you.  You are she.. you are the goal, the end point.. drawing it in.. Do you feel just a little like sighing?  Do you feel a little like panting?   Well do so... Make sweet noises honey.  Feel yourself getting more and more excited...  just pick that control up a notch.

Step 5  Start to improvise... Find what works for you.

You want to continue to build those sensations that you are having with each contraction to a fine crescendo.  In my case, i now call in the heavy artillery, the big guns!  That's right samantha and jennifer.   (no!  not menage a trois..  those are pet names for my titties)   Touching them... and finally touching the nipples... For me, touching the nipples feels like touching my pulsing vagina.. The two are connected somewhere, and as i really start to get.. wriggly and jiggly, my nipples will get so very hard.  At this point I am pretty much.. ready to climb the ladder..  maybe play a little with the position of the vibrator, raise the intensity... immerse myself deeply in fantasy... up up up... and then feel crazy movement and sensation... happening to me.  and then relax and come back down..   Oh!gasm.... not orgasm.

There is no question that starting out, there is a strong likelihood that putting the vibrator on the clitoris, and just raising the level,  just letting yourself go will result in orgasm, sticky panties, and a nap.  This is not the desired goal however.  Having a big orgasm while your penis is confined is fine, but it is just one more way that you can get off as a male.   It will result in the typical male afterglow.." Can you get me a beer honey?"
But if you avoid it, then you will have an Oh!gasm, you will be right as rain, filled with energy... ready to have another!


This is my gift to those whom it may benefit on this fine St. Patrick's Day.

 Slainte.

Good Vibrations

" If you are feeling sad and lonely, there's a service I can render"

A continuing interest of mine has been to experience sexual feelings and orgasm in a female way. I wrote a few blog entries sometime back on the subject.

Imaginary Vagina

Imaginary Vagina II

The Girl Inside

and since then with a little help from a new friend, I have made some good progress. My friend is none other than the Lelo , a space age vibrator, and I would like to discuss our experiences together in my next post. Those experiences caused me to try to learn a little about the history and uses of the vibrator, and what i found out fascinated me.

In medicine for hundreds of years, peaking in the 19th century, there has been a nervous condition diagnosed in women. It was called hysteria named after the greek word for hystera for womb. There were a lot of vague symptoms and it was linked to sexual problems. Most interestingly the physicians of the 19th century, boldly going where none had gone before, determined that massage and manipulation of the vagina even to orgasm was shall we say.. "just what the doctor ordered". It was in the context of this treatment regimen that the vibrator was invented. All that manual labor was wearing physicians out, and hysteria became more and more common. So the solution was the vibrator.. and nothing has been the same since!

Vibrators are very common in the night tables and under the pillows of the fair sex. So I have come to understand that they are essential tools in the quest for the female orgasm. I have learned a technique which includes Kegel movements, and proper placement of miss lelo, that I believe allows someone like myself to experience sexual feelings in much the same way as a genuine genetic girl can. These priceless techniques i shall reveal in my next posting. It may be a week or more though. I am so worked up that I need a vacation. Key West here i come.

Will I be packing my vibrator?

Now what do you think?

Purgatory

There is a phenomenon well known to those of us who have been involved in the tranny lifestyle. At some point, a crossdresser either comes to their senses, or completely loses them, and decides to jettison all of their girly stuff. This phenomenon can be understood from the dynamic of transgender development. A typical m-f transgender person, is wandering around in the body of a boy. They grow up with their parents and the wider culture treating them as a boy, expecting them to be a boy, finally expecting them to be a man. Willfully or helplessly they keep secrets of a different order. God/Mom/Dad/Siblings/Pals/Employers/Girlfriends/Wifes/.... expect you to play the part. Only the dog appears to be indifferent. So every once in a while, when the moon is full, the shadow life can appear as... well .... a curse .. to see ourselves as others see us. Horrified, we run screaming into the night.

I myself, know this phenomenon more at second hand, having heard it described a number of times. My own experience was different. When I was young, i would jerk off while wearing a few things from my sorry collection, and immediately remove them, like it was all slightly distasteful. But I lost that tendency a long time ago, and I just never was a full blown purger. I have panties that could probably go in the Smithsonian. Don't make that face! They are clean and put away. I also have a Liberty Bell replica that i got in 1958 in Philadelphia.

So imagine my surprise when a friend and a the person I most played with in recent times, decided to purge, and in effect purged me!

A quick email to that effect, and that was that. Its rude. I have had plenty of people break up with me. I have had marriages end, so I have experienced the break up, but the email breakup... well that is rude! At least I got an email, the poor panties probably just got thrown out.

T-girls and their narcissism. Now that's something I could write about, if there weren't so many things I need to write about myself. An update on the quest for the female orgasm to come in the next few days.

SCARY MONSTERS

"O wad some Power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us"

Or maybe not Mr Burns

So to see others as we see ourselves, or more specifically to assume others see us as we see ourselves, then this is the anti-giftie. In my own case, I have suffered from no small measure of it. It allowed me to live a sort of double life, over the decades. And double lives can be double trouble. So who is the Scary Monster?.... BOO!
But more specifically thinking about my experience with scary monsters, has caused me to understand that indeed I have been one.

I had the most unfortunate experience of having a friend, a male friend, a best friend, closer than close over a 30+ year span. We were pod peas thinking each other's thoughts it seemed, bound by common intellectual interests, common sense's of humor, and finally scads of common experiences. And within a span of a few years we fell unalterably out of each others affections; From BFF to FU.

The scary monster who lurked in the secret rooms of my friend's mansion was angry resentment. There turned out to be nothing slight about slights. In those dim rooms was an angry avenger with a shiny code of honor. Daylight however when it finally came revealed a petty minded coward with an acid tongue.

So who was i who hid so long from the world?

It is an interesting question what constitutes prudent discretion in intimate relationships and what constitutes secretive betrayal. And blame and punishment is to be apportioned, then a question that still has currency.



There wasn't much of a monster. Belinda is universally thought to be cute and cuddly! Today the youths seem untroubled by the gender-fucked. They hang it all out on Facebook. " Companionable Monster seeks same", and it is all happily ever after.
I grew up in different times. Depraved because I was deprived. There was Hot Hell for deviants, and Kraft Ebbing if you wanted to "understand" just how fucked you were. Like Jessica Hahn I offer no excuses, only explanations. And of course to the injured party who will probably never read this, I was smitten, and could find no place that was without shadows.
Mea Culpa3

You Say You Want a Resolution?

"He not busy being born is busy dying"

It's All Right Ma by Bob Dylan

The obvious interpretation of this scripture is that unless you continue to grow you will decay. A more subtle interpretation has lately been troubling me, that there are two conditions becoming and unbecoming. For most of us, we put a lot of chips on the square "being". This would be unfortunate, if nothing really is, and it is all becoming and unbecoming.

Last night I attended a small t-girl discussion group. I have participated in these discussions for years now, at a Lady friend who is a strong supporter of the transgendered community, and so most of the participants on this particular night were friends, with a few new faces. One topic was, what was the mistake in your life that you learned the most from. And the number one answer is... drum roll..... my (first , second, ... ) marriage. I would concur, having learned that hiding my "hobbies" doesn't make them or the issues that go with them go away.

Another question was .. "What is the big regret in your life?" With this group, not surprisingly the answer was not being born a girl, or not stepping out sooner, or not doing something about those pesky male parts when i was young. Again I would concur, at least regarding stepping out. I mean let's face it: The yound me would just look so much better in a red minidress than i do. But that leads me back to the premise. You cannot be something.. only become or unbecome something. And so to ask what do you regret not becoming.. as if you would somehow be that now.. is incorrect. The question is always the same... what do you want to become... so start to become it, before everything we call you has "un-become".

So for me there is the last new year's resolution I will ever make;

To live this year as if it is my last, and if it ain't .. well then try it again. Repeat as necessary.

And that means one thing..the operation!

That's right I am finally going to get my ears pierced! and i might even get my hair colored.. (une poquito)

Because, I refuse to regret not having become a physicist, I am becoming one, ..and so.. my gender model in the realm of becoming / unbecoming.. is the harmonic oscillation.. (no sluts.. not the harmonic osculation ) better known as hopelessly gender confused.

or as i prefer Hermaphrodite.

Unbecoming male .. becoming female... unbecoming female... becoming male.. ... Now that when occuring in the absence of friction is eternal.

"Shive ShaktyA yukto yadi bhavati saktah prabhavitum....