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.