relevations
Damn. Damn, damn damn. What foolishness had possessed
me to do such a
thing. For god's sake.
I went home, slipped up the trellace, and straight into the shower.
The clothes, I
peeled, and tossed into a jumble. I spun into the mirror.
A beast looked back. A savage,
beast, led by nothing but her emotions. I turned the shower on,
and then, after having
paused, then placed carefully contacts, ears and costume into the suitcase.
I then turned toward the full-length mirror, and unhooked the
bra, breasts
swooping a touch lower than I'd like . I cut a striking figure,
at 40-32-40, standing in a
pair of black satin painties.
I slipped gently out of the panties, and stood again, looking
at the mirror. For an
instant, just an instant, the illusion was perfectly complete.
I held my thighs together for
just a second more, and then spread them out, a hairless public area
spread open as my
penis and testicles fell loosely.
I looked downward. My eyes riveted to that delicated piece
of flesh, that belied
my body, and in many way my being.
Genetically, I was born a male. I did not begin devolping
until much later than
most, puberty being nothing short of hell, and for me, as I began to
devolp small, yet
noticable breasts, that hell continued.
I figured, quite simply, after a few relationships with women,
that I was either
bisexual or homosexual. Neither was satisfactory, yet atleast
being the object of a sexual
persuit by a man was far more enjoyable than persuing.
Through a great deal of counseling, I believed I might be transsexual.
I consulted
a psychiatrist who concurred, and began to take estrogen. When
my body began to fill out
in a female form, I began to be come elated. I lost many, many
friend, suffered very close
to a nervous breakdown at the loss of my family, but I endured.
No, I survived.
After A time of some years, I found that living as a woman, in
the transgendered
condition far preferable to anything else, any other way of living.
I became a sought-after
domanitrix, and men paid me to torture and belittle them. I enjoyed
this immensly, and
discovered a very powerful sense of sadism.
As my thrulls discovered my transgenderd situation, they became
even more
enthralled with me, and if they were very good, I would actaully allow
them to pleasure
me. This power, this truly was what I sought.
My parents, after having rejected me, addressed me only as a
male, and I told them
I was going away to school. In fact, my monies were made simply
by beating and berating
those who wanted it. For a hundred dollars, cash money, an hour,
I slaped, humiliated,
stunned, threatened, and cajoled those who enjoyed it. I’d go
for a few hours in the
morning, usually entertaining a few clients, then head off to a Karate
class, or whatever
martial appealed to me at the time. After a few years of this,
the sense of sadism wore off,
it became a chore, and at a certain point, an unenjoyable one.
I had backlogged an enourmous amount of cash, changed my name
one more time,
and headed back to the NorthWest, settling in Laketon, Idaho.
My parents were about
twelve hours away, good in case of familiar emergencies, and, of course,
they had no idea
as to the various changes I had been through. My mother disowned
me, when I initially
discovered my transgendered state. My father, well, he always
was very confusing. One
minute taking her side, and the next giving me money. It was
a very confusing situation.
Out here, I had a new life, though. A life very well hidden.
I had also purchased some
remote property in another state under a different identity.
I had backups of backups.
The only person who ever knew my full story was a therapist, who I
had left in Chicago.
I believe in what therapy and communication do for people.
I have fonud,
however, and more importantly, that the human race was not ready for
what I had
become. If I entered into a relationship that did not serve me,
I discarded it, without
question. Were I to run into a friend who wished to communicate
with me, and I decided
I would rather not, I did not return telephone calls, letters, or electronic
mail. In chat
rooms, I would ask precise questions, and while I got to be fairly
well known in the
electronic medium, it was frightening that people would be so...affectionate.
I received
love letters from men who I had yet to meet.
This concept was frightening, to me. This wave of the twenty-first
century,
swamped by people, who gave away gif picture roses and greetings of,
‘age/sex/location’
in chatrooms. It was way, way, too much. I watched disjointedly
as engagements were
formed, just from fingers flitting on keyboards. I remember the
passion of the engagement
I had. I understood concepts of cybersex, and found atleast it
refreshing in its’ honesty. I
began to look at all of the concepts of popular entertainment.
games, the internet, mass
media, the cinema. I looked at what I enjoyed, and, more importantly
why I enjoyed it.
I discovered something.
I was alone.
Truely alone.
This was not a bad thing. It was simply something I accepted.
When I began to
accept it, then my relationships changed. Drastically.
I became far more selective with my friendships, and learned
there were some
people that had similar feelings, and tried to identify with them,
albet to no avail. I spend
a great deal of time alone, even to the day. I write a great
deal, and invented a fairly
difficult cipher so that my privacy might be assured.
I published dark poetry to ezines, and various short stories
under a variety of
names. It felt good to be able to express myself, even if no
one truly understood me. I
actually found out a few things. Being an only child was a big
part of it, in that I never
socialized as a youngster, well. It was so confusing, only being
with adults. I had few
peers, and never interacted well. As I got into therapy I divulged
some secrets of things
that had happened to me as a child. Very unpleasant things.
Max scratched at the bathroom door, interrupting my reverie.
I quickly finished my shower, wrapped myself in plush towels.
Max snuffled his
way to the back door. I’d never had a dog before, except as a
child. He gave me a
perspective. Something else to care for, other than myself.
I let Max out, and then back in, and we went to bed.