Bloggy, Soggy, and Sexy


A “real blog,” according to a recent article in The New York Times, is one that “reflects one voice, is essentially unedited, and causes the writer to experience butterflies of anxiety as she hits the publish button.”

Sounds like how I feel whenever I drop to my knees and unzip a stranger.

Also sounds like how I feel every time I venture out of the house in the shortest and snuggest of short shorts!

Fashion. Sex. And Blogging.

All three have the same goal, now that my bimbo brain is forced to think about it:

To make you — dearest reader/stranger — hard!  So, so hard, and thus so, so indescribably yummy.

The Serious Shemale

Instead of short shorts...what if my latest fashion purchase was referred to as  "sea-level-rise-induced-by global-warming" hotpants...would I then begin to be taken more seriously?

Instead of short shorts….

….What if my latest fashion purchase was referred to as “sea-level-rise-induced-by-global-warming hotpants,” would I then begin to be taken more seriously?  Not that I pretend to be a real intellectual or anything, but still….

Why don’t people take us shemales seriously?  Is it because we’re perceived as boys who just want to be bimbos?  The truest and most authentic of bimbos who’re only interested in and motivated by sexy, dolled-up clothes — and, of course, sex itself?

But “regular” transsexuals — those who follow through on SRS (sex reassignment surgery) — are often treated with the utmost dignity and respect.  (That is, obviously, except among Philistines and homophobes!)

Not only are transsexuals like Jan Morris (the travel writer and essayist) and Jennifer Finney Boylan (the English professor and author) greeted with respect, even awe — but also are considered intellectually serious thinkers worth paying attention to.

Part of the reason, of course, is that shemales are often associated with porn and prostitution.  While I personally have never done porn, I readily confess to having worked as an escort (just a euphemism for prostitute!)  But getting paid for sex (or often simply my companionship) did not deter my intellectual curiosity.  To the contrary, I read more now — and am better-informed — than I’ve ever been.  And each of my clients was like a richly nuanced character in the very greatest novels and/or a deeply layered case study in the most intense Freudian psychoanalysis.

My mission, then, is clear.  It’s simple.  You can guess what it is!

For Ladies Only


Knowing how to make men hard doesn’t necessarily translate into an understanding of the penis.

The latest sexting scandal to involve New York mayoral candidate Anthony Weiner (what an unfortunate name!) means that more and more perplexed women are asking me to help them understand “what’s up” with men and their penises.  Here’s what I say:

Imagine you’ve just stepped out of the shower, your hair shampooed, conditioned, and rinsed…and…and…

And you can’t get your stupid blow-dryer to work!  No matter what electrical outlet you try, you’re frustrated.  You stomp around the house…not one of the outlets works!

That’s what it’s like to have a penis!  You’re constantly looking for a place to plug it in.  (I wish I could take credit for that wonderful imagery, but I heard it from a stand-up comedian a while ago.)  It’s the best explanation I have when genetic girls (GG’s) ask me what it’s like to have a penis.

In theory, a special girl like me (who still has a penis!) would possess some kind of profoundly unique wisdom — and so could act as an honest broker in the endless war between the sexes.  But since my cock has always seemed to act just like a Big Clitty, I don’t know how much help I can really be.

Still, I’ll try…. so in coming posts I’ll share all my most private penis secrets.  I promise!

Sexually Insatiable: Deconstructing a Shemale Myth

20th Century German impressionist interpretation of the Bible's lusty Corinth (Potiphar's wife) trying to seduce Joseph.

20th Century German impressionist interpretation of the Bible’s lusty Corinth (Potiphar’s wife) trying to seduce Joseph.

Women in the Middle Ages were often portrayed as Eve-like temptresses, sexually insatiable. So in the “Decameron,” it is said: “Whereas a single cock is quite sufficient for 10 hens, 10 men are hard put to satisfy 10 women.”

As for today’s lusty shemales like me?  We individually need at least 10 cocks each…probably more…right?

Inquiring minds want to know: Are we shemales really as sexually insatiable as we seem? Sucking cock after cock, bringing each to a cumming climax, yet hardly ever seen to be cumming ourselves. And that gives us pleasure? Is that truly possible? Or are we just playing to type, giving voyeurs what they want — the fantasy image that’s been constructed for us?

As with all myths, some details might not be literally true. But the larger, deeper truth remains. Yes, I guess we’re perpetually horny. At least I am.

It’s a sexual adventure for me just to walk down the street. I don’t have to be dressed provocatively. Just some pumps and pantyhose will do, with a demur short skirt and long jacket: that’s all it takes to feel my hips sway and the firm flesh of my upper thighs rubbing like silk upon one another, each to each. Depending upon the quality of hose, and if my short-heeled pumps aren’t clicking too loudly, I can even hear the delicious swishing.

Maybe it’s because, unlike a “normal” woman, I don’t take sashaying down the street for granted. It’s still new for me: this ability to turn heads just by the way I walk and what I wear. I think it will always be new, this feeling. Let’s hope so! And not just for my sake; selflessly, I know there are so many cocks yet unsucked that I need to arouse.

It’s a powerful feeling that I’m now blessed with — this perpetual arousal, seldom diminished by my own climatic release.

What a mouth-watering paradox: the potency of impotency!    Chemically castrating myself with estrogen, I now have undreamt of power.  Almost absolute power, it feels like; and absolute power corrupts absolutely.  That must be why I’m nothing but a slut.

Do Shemales Have More Fun?

I am desired, therefore I am.

I am desired, therefore I am.

You catch your boyfriend doing Internet porn. You feel betrayed. But, worse, totally inadequate. The girls he’s been lustfully watching have something you’ll never have. “Women 2.0…special girls with a little something extra,” the porn sites sometimes seductively spin it. Less euphemistically, they more often scream: “Incredibly slutty shemales chicks with dicks…boobs and balls…tantalizing t-girls.”

But no need to worry. Your guy’s not some closet weirdo. Most straight, normally faithful guys seem intrigued, if not sexually turned on by, so-called shemales. They represent the fastest growing segment of the porn business.

Still, you wonder. What’s going on, what’s the attraction, the turn-on? I wonder, too — and I’m a shemale myself!

Back in the day, I would have been just a regular male-to-female pre-operative transsexual — ingesting estrogen and living fulltime as a woman while awaiting the knife, sex reassignment surgery (SRS). That was the traditional narrative of “a woman born into the wrong (male) body” — the feminizing, often arduous journey to become finally “the woman I was meant to be.”

That was then. Now, more and more special girls like me keep postponing the final surgery and opt, instead, to stay suspended in a transitional stage of half-man and half-woman, like some kind of freakish mythological creature. There are always convenient excuses: SRS is so expensive, you know…anyway, I still haven’t finished electrolysis…I want to get adjusted to my newest regimen of estrogen therapy…what money I’ve saved up seems better spent on what people actually notice when I walk down the street — breast implants and facial feminization surgery. When you really stop and think about it, a cunt is just an engineering redundancy anyway, for I have two holes to service cock already. So down deep I know I’ll probably never go all the way, for then I would no longer be special. I’d be just another unattached, on-the-market woman. Too many guys prefer me cuntless, just the way I am.

I am desired, therefore I already am. But what am I exactly, and why am I desired? In order to understand, I wrote a plaintive piece some time back, subsequently posted all over the Internet, and I received literally hundreds of thoughtful responses, love letters — lots and lots of lustful love letters.

I’ll tell you in my next post what I’ve learned.