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This
blog is provided as a piece of salacious entertainment, not as a
documentary. In
order to protect my own safety and privacy and that of other people
mentioned, many details on this page are
vague; some are missing and others are deliberately false and
misleading.
It is not in chronological order. While overall it
is quite accurate, clearly I'm not going to tell you exactly which bits
are
reliable and which are not. If you believe I have inappropriately
mentioned you or your activities, please let me know and I will remove
the reference.
Condom packaging
Saints and Sinners
Saints & Sinners was fantastic (but then, it always is). The major problem was the 30-45 min queue for the cloakroom, but once past that it was all really good. The stage entertainment is usually pretty woeful (they have a female and then a male stripper- very mainstream hetero) but this time they included one of the entertainers from Primal People (Abode's alternative talent agency) whose name escapes me. She's an ultra-goth girl who dances with an angle-grinder; she wears a costume with metal panels and does stuff like thrusting the angle grinder between her legs so that sparks go everywhere; very entertaining. I caught up with (ie: shagged) a lady I'd met at a gangbang the week before, and caught up with (ie: chatted to) several people I only see at the party.
It was at Chaser's in Chapel St, which I'd never been to, and I was a little irritated to discover that the freestanding tent that they have for shagging in was in a back room which I hadn't discovered until about 2.30am. I'd spent part of the evening complaining that there wasn't a huge amount of room to shag, when there was this whole other space I hadn't found. This possibly serves me right for not exploring more thoroughly at the beginning of the evening.
I was asked to go home with a really sexy PVC-clad tranny, but I didn't have any clothes for the morning with me and I didn't really want to get home looking like a girl with trashed makeup and five o'clock shadow, so I had to regretfully decline. I got home at about 5.15am after a really, really good night.
A swingers' party in May
At a recent , I was playing in one of the bedrooms at a (somewhat sleazy) swinger's party when someone really familiar-looking walked down the corridor past the bedroom door. I didn't get a very good look at them, but I thought it was the female partner of the proprietor of a well-known venue, who would probably know me (in tgirl form) by sight but not by name. I thought this was odd, because they didn't strike me as the kind of couple who'd be into a somewhat sleazy-ish party like this one.
Later, in the social area, I went up to her to say hello. She turned around and looked at me as if to say 'who the hell are you?'. As I said hello, I became aware of another familiar-looking face nearby; with horror, I realised that it was the male half of a couple my ex-wife and I had swung with some years previously, and who didn't know about Sabrina. The familiar-looking woman wasn't the venue proprietor's partner at all, but the female half of the swinger couple. Needless to say, I said a hurried hello and escaped without them realising who I was... but that didn't stop the male half of the swinger couple from touching me up in one of the play rooms later in the evening.
After a bondage party in about April- or maybe October
I had my first tranny threesome tonight- it was fantastic. Two other tgirls were going back to one of the tgirls' place, and they asked me if I'd like to join them. Obviously I said yes, and so we all ended up back at this tgirl's flat on a folding bed. The other invitee and I both ended up fucking our host, and it was wonderful- really sexy. It helped that there was a big mirror off a wardrobe door in the room. Thank you, girls, I had a really great time.
A major swingers' party in June 2006
I was at a large, well-known erotic fancy-dress ball where I'd hooked up with a young lady. We were sitting on a bean bag getting rather friendly, and my right hand was getting itself intimately acquainted with her lower regions. I thought that we were probably about to have sex, but we hadn't discussed it and I didn't want to assume that that was what she wanted.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. There was a youngish guy next to us on the bean bag, with his hand on the young lady's leg.
"Are you going to have sex with her?" he asked.
"I don't know!" I said, incredulous.
"Well, if you're not going to, do you mind if I do?" he said.
Frankly, I was amazed. With as much scorn as I could muster, I shot back, "I think the young lady might have something to say about that". With that he looked a bit taken aback, and left.
At the time, I was surprised for two reasons. Firstly, I thought he assumed that because I was en femme, that I wasn't into shagging real girls (a hugely incorrect assumption, obviously). Secondly, he was breaking into the middle of an ongoing activity to ask if he could join in. In a catch-22 situation, clearly it's rude to just jump straight in without asking, but it's also rude to interrupt to ask (which is a point Easton & Liszt make in The Ethical Slut; they argue that there is no good way to enter an ongoing scene once it's begun). Anyway, I was quite surprised, although I know I shouldn't have been.
I subsequently ran into the gentleman concerned at the next party, and he admitted that he tapped me on the shoulder because he didn't think a tranny would be interested in a real girl and he didn't think I was going to shag her!
A Saturday in July
My credit card has been bad lately, so I have punished it by giving a good flogging. Unfortunately, today I went to Brunswick St. This is unfortunate because I have double-purchased a number of things lately.
Firstly, I was after a black military- style uniform jacket to wear to bondage parties. After much searching of army disposals stores in the city, I found a grey Luftwaffe (German air force) jacket for $30, which I bought on Wednesday. I was also after a pendant to go around my neck; I usually wear a pentagram, but I was after something Celtic. On Friday afternoon, after I gave up looking for something Celtic, I found a nice winged cacadeus (two snakes entwined around a staff) at Spellbox, a really cool Wiccan-ish shop in the city, which I bought.
On Saturday, I went to Brunswick St. Foolishly, I stopped in at Victorian Gothic, who had exactly the type of Celtic pendant I was after. Walking back to the car, I found a garage sale near the Ministry of Style who had, among other things, a black military- style uniform, exactly what I initially had in mind, for $10. Bugger. Clearly it never pays to stop looking...
A Saturday night
I went to one of Melbourne's newer swingers parties tonight. I've been before but this time I had the best time I've had in quite a while. I don't know why, but basically I got the greatest number of guys wanting me to suck them that I've ever had- at one point there must have been about half a dozen guys all standing around me waiting. I think I sucked ten guys that night, which is a record for me.
A Friday night
I decided tonight that I really like tall trannies. I was at a nightclub, sitting back next to the dance floor watching four tall, gorgeous tgirls dancing in a group, and it was a fantastic visual treat. Much as I like being relatively short (for a tranny- I think it makes me a bit more passable) I really like seeing tall tgirls. Of course, I really like ones my height too...
Last day in January 2006
Today I bought the Sisters of Mercy's greatest hits album, 'A Slight Case of Overbombing', and fuck it is awesome. I've always liked tSoM but this just reconfirms it for me all over again.
A long caffeine-fuelled Saturday night
Well! I had a wonderful night last night. I was out with two other tgirls I'd met before, and we had a fantastic time at a bondage night at an inner-city nightclub. I almost didn't go because I had a panic attack just as I was leaving and I was late to pick up my friend, but I'm really glad I did. Some of the highlights included:
- one of my friends was introduced to gentle bondage play, and I think she quite enjoyed it.
- I was flirted with outrageously by a lovely gentleman. I find that I really, really enjoy someone who can flirt to the limit without stepping across the boundary of deniability. This guy was smart enough to know where the boundary was, quick-witted enough to go right up to it, and more than sexy enough that he could have held my interest on the other side of it.
- as I was adjusting my makeup, a very pretty young lady (a real one!) said to me that I was beautiful and didn't need any more. I am a bit self-conscious about my makeup some times and it was lovely of her to say that; with hindsight I regret not saying thank you for the compliment more directly.
- on the way home I stopped for petrol (very poor planning- I should have filled the car before I got dressed) and was wolf-whistled by someone in a car driving past. This is the first time this has happened to me. I was wearing fishnets, miniskirt, mesh top, bra, and... reef sandals- I can't drive well in heels- so I must have looked at treat at 5.00am in the petrol station forecourt. I didn't look around so I don't know if they knew I was a tgirl or not.
- I spent some of the evening playing hide-and-seek with someone who knows the Monday-Friday version of me, but who doesn't know the Friday night/Saturday night version of me. At one point he came and stood next to me in a group conversation. In retrospect, instead of fleeing as subtly and gracefully as I could, I should have stood my ground and waited to be introduced.
- I discovered that a chocolate bar (a Cadbury Nut Break, to be precise) fits very nicely inside my handbag and makes a wonderful snack at about 1.00am.
- And there was some emotional stuff going on inside my head which I'm not going to talk about.
A week after the previous entry
Went out again with my ladyfriend. We started at the Candy Bar; although the place was nice, I felt slightly uncomfortable because of all the women (real ones) in low-cut tops. There must have been a dozen girls all dressed for a Friday night, and we were the only two tgirls. Having said that, it would be a great venue in right company. After a few drinks, we left.
We decamped to Polly's Bar in Brunswick St. The barman said 'what would you two ladies like?', which was very nice to hear. I felt very comfortable at polly's even though (or perhaps because?) it was crowded. Their coffee is absolutely divine; I can well recommend this place.
Unfortunately, on the way to our next venue, a very large spider ran across the windscreen! Another one! I let out a most unladylike growl along the lines of 'oh, for fuck's sake!' and stoppped the car, but it had gone. I have no idea where is it, but it's still presumably in the car somewhere.
Our final venue for the night was Cabaret Nocturne, a goth dance party held at Dream nightclub in Carlton. By this time we were both feeling frisky so we didn't stay long; we went back to my place and played happily until the early hours of the morning. I finished lying on my back with my ladyfriend holding me close and kissing me, and I squirted all over my nice new lace top. Although the stains came out, I'd better not wear it under UV light!
A Friday night in early 2006
I went out with a tgirl friend on a Friday night. We had arranged to meet at 9.30pm; I didn't arrive until 10.15, because around the corner from my house a large striped spider ran across the windscreen of my car. (I'm not sure of the significance of it being striped. Perhaps it was a pinstriped businessspider?). I got out to try to squash it; this breaks my heart, because I cannot stand to kill another living thing. However, large spiders in the car could be a safety hazard, and therefore regrettably I had to dispatch it. So there I was, with a skirt barely covering my arse and my tummy bare, in heels, next to a busy main road at 10pm on a Friday night just around the corner from my house. Brilliant! I was stopped in the service lane with my hazard lights on; a car driving past slowed noticeably, perhaps for a look... I hope it wasn't anyone I know.
After this unpleasant diversion, I picked my ladyfriend up at her place and we went to a tgirl-friendly locale of, shall we say, bohemian reputation. Never having been there before, I suppose at that point I wasn't fully aware of the range of possibility contained in such an evening. We got a drink and made small talk for some time. After our second drink we retired to another room and sat together in an armchair kissing. Having completely removed each others' lipstick, we then explored some of the other rooms.
Sitting down again elsewhere, after not very long we found ourselves surrounded by a representative selection of couples. To our left, a gay Asian + Anglo couple masturbated each other, until the Asian guy leaned over and buried his face in his partner's groin. To our right, a woman performed oral sex on her transvestite boyfriend, while beyond them, two submissive women were playing with a dominant man in a harness. Further away, a dominant woman whipped a man bound to a frame, while elsewhere two (or was it three?) couples played. One young woman with perky breasts performed oral sex on her female friend, while another girl was held in a restraint. I only saw some of this, however, as I had my face in my ladyfriend's lap at the time. While none of the sexual combinations I saw were new to me, it was the first time I had seen them all together. It was almost as though a swingers' party, a BDSM club, a tgirl party, and a sauna had all fallen down a slippery-dip together and ended up in a pile at the bottom. We eventually stumbled home at about 5am, thoroughly satisfied.
Some time in October
Sabrina got a blowjob in a car by the river from a nice young gentleman this evening. Much as I like being naughty, it isn't really all that much fun when you're wondering if those headlights are another couple out for a hot time, or a police patrol.
Tuesday, February 7th
I told my parents about my sexuality tonight. This was, frankly, quite scary. My (separated) wife came with me to support me, which I was very grateful for. I had rung to ask Mum to meet us out for coffee, telling her we had some news, but not what she thought. After a while, she asked what we were there for. I basically told her that the previous weekend I had been to the gay pride march and that I was bisexual. Then we went home and I told Dad as well. He was fairly quiet for a while.
one Thursday night in early 2006
I went out in public for the first time this evening! Leaving the house was quite frankly terrifying, but once out I settled down. I did get a wave from a woman with lots of curly hair in another car, though; she obviously knew straight away. I met another tgirl at the Cherry Bomb Bar in Smith St, Collingwood. There were very few people out on the street, and not a ridiculously huge number inside, so it was a really good introductory experience. We talked for a very long time and kissed. She had a latex glove, which she caressed me with; I would never have believed that the feeling of rubber on skin could be so amazing. I remember someone saying that going out en femme for the first time time was like losing your virginity; now I know what they meant.
early hours of a Sunday morning in mid 2006
A woman I know (a real one) had SMSed me and asked for a lift home, as she'd been drinking. She knows me well enough to know that I would oblige, but not quite well enough to know Sabrina, so I went not dressed. As we were travelling to her place, discussing the Vin Diesel spy/action movie 'XXX', she made the comment: "I'd lick the sweat of Vin Diesel's head... actually, I'd lick the sweat off your head, and not necessarily the one on your shoulders". With that, she proceeded to unzip my trousers and perform oral sex on me as I drove at 80kph. Goodness me! How easy is it to concentrate when you're being given a blowjob? Not very, even at the best of times. In fact, there should be a Transport Accident Commission commercial about it, perhaps with the tag line: "You could blow more than your licence". When we got to her place she invited me in (obviously) and she seemed quite keen to have sex. I deduced this because she led me to the bedroom, dropped to her knees, and started undoing my trousers again. I thought about this for a little while- maybe three seconds?- and agreed, but I think she knew I'd be reasonably likely to say yes. While we were going at it, she rang a friend, evidently another lover of hers, and proceeded to describe to him what we were doing. I frankly felt quite sorry for the poor fellow, because he'd had a bit to drink and couldn't drive over to join us. Consequently, there he was, listening to the young lady grunt and squirm, and he presumably had to take care of himself. During the course of proceedings she offered me a facial (after she'd hung up, which was fortunate for the other guy, and even more fortunate for the phone). Needless to say, I accepted.
A Monday in late December 2005
I had a wonderful threesome with a lovely young tgirl and a guy this afternoon. She videotaped proceedings and it finished with her lying back holding the videocamera pointed at her face while the guy and I gave her a facial. She ended up completely covered in semen, which made quite a pornographic movie.
The first Monday in December 2005
After struggling for three weeks to find a silver armband, and being quoted $500 to have one made, I finally discover one in a little second-hand clothing shop in the city. It's got a nice Celtic pattern on it which goes quite nicely with my look.
Tranny experts galore, and one guy who
didn't pay attention
I went out to a well-known gay venue last night. I had a wonderful time, but a few people stuck in my mind.
The first was a guy who clearly had a bit of confusion between transvestites and transsexuals. He came up to me and introduced himself, then said that really liked transsexuals. I said that I wasn't one, and he appeared thoroughly confused; I wondered if perhaps he thought I was on hormones. He asked what I was ('a transvestite', which had to be explained). After a short conversation during which I unsuccessfully attempted to explain the difference between a transvestite and a transsexual, he tried to kiss me on the lips. Now, I'm often quite happy to kiss people on the lips. However, locking lips with a tgirl invariably ends up with her lipstick distributed evenly around her chops; I'm happy to trash my makeup for friends and fuck buddies, but not people I've met literally three minutes earlier. He seemed quite put out that I wouldn't put out for him.
The second was a real girl who seemed to think that she knew who was interested in me. She was there with her boyfriend, and after a decent conversation she dragged me off to the dancefloor. We were dancing on a pole when she said (well, shouted; it was fairly loud) that she thought the guy next to me was quite into me. She then started trying to push me towards him, using the pole to swing around and bump me into him. Now, I'm no expert on psychology, but if he was interested in me I imagine his body language might have shown that; it didn't. Eventually she got so forceful that I had to make my excuses and leave the dancefloor.
The third was a guy who was standing next to me at the bar. I was waiting to buy a drink, and he made some comment. I responded in my normal voice (I can't speak loudly and femme at the same time) and he looked at me with a surprised look and said 'You're not really a woman!' and complimented me on my appearance. It was very flattering that I'd managed to look passable enough (even at 3am) to fool someone.
Edgy weekends
At morning tea one day this week one of my colleagues made a comment to the effect that he thought I might be a little bit edgy on the weekends. Then he said, "I don't know, you could be a drag queen on the weekend". I pretended to get all offended, and then he said, "No, you'd be good at it", at which point I pretended to be even more offended still. Very amusing.
Slip of the tongue
I work with a woman named Sabrina (as in, that's her real name, the one her parents gave her). This is sometimes difficult for me, because I hear people around the office say 'Hi, Sabrina' and I think they're talking to me. On Tuesday I was walking into the office one day with a colleague, let's call him Peter. Peter said 'Good morning, Sabrina!' and I was about to say 'How did you know my name?' when I caught myself. That one would have been really difficult to talk my way out of.
How's that work?
I was at a sex party with my girlfriend, fucking her on a couch. She was on her back and I was pumping away between her legs, so from behind or from the side it would have looked like two girls going for it. Two girls walked past and one said to the other, "How does that work?". At that point I turned around to see who was talking, and they realised that I was a tranny, instead of a real girl. Without missing a beat, the first girl said, "Oh, that's how that works..." and the two of them continued on their way.
I went out to a well-known gay venue last night. I had a wonderful time, but a few people stuck in my mind.
The first was a guy who clearly had a bit of confusion between transvestites and transsexuals. He came up to me and introduced himself, then said that really liked transsexuals. I said that I wasn't one, and he appeared thoroughly confused; I wondered if perhaps he thought I was on hormones. He asked what I was ('a transvestite', which had to be explained). After a short conversation during which I unsuccessfully attempted to explain the difference between a transvestite and a transsexual, he tried to kiss me on the lips. Now, I'm often quite happy to kiss people on the lips. However, locking lips with a tgirl invariably ends up with her lipstick distributed evenly around her chops; I'm happy to trash my makeup for friends and fuck buddies, but not people I've met literally three minutes earlier. He seemed quite put out that I wouldn't put out for him.
The second was a real girl who seemed to think that she knew who was interested in me. She was there with her boyfriend, and after a decent conversation she dragged me off to the dancefloor. We were dancing on a pole when she said (well, shouted; it was fairly loud) that she thought the guy next to me was quite into me. She then started trying to push me towards him, using the pole to swing around and bump me into him. Now, I'm no expert on psychology, but if he was interested in me I imagine his body language might have shown that; it didn't. Eventually she got so forceful that I had to make my excuses and leave the dancefloor.
The third was a guy who was standing next to me at the bar. I was waiting to buy a drink, and he made some comment. I responded in my normal voice (I can't speak loudly and femme at the same time) and he looked at me with a surprised look and said 'You're not really a woman!' and complimented me on my appearance. It was very flattering that I'd managed to look passable enough (even at 3am) to fool someone.
Edgy weekends
At morning tea one day this week one of my colleagues made a comment to the effect that he thought I might be a little bit edgy on the weekends. Then he said, "I don't know, you could be a drag queen on the weekend". I pretended to get all offended, and then he said, "No, you'd be good at it", at which point I pretended to be even more offended still. Very amusing.
Slip of the tongue
I work with a woman named Sabrina (as in, that's her real name, the one her parents gave her). This is sometimes difficult for me, because I hear people around the office say 'Hi, Sabrina' and I think they're talking to me. On Tuesday I was walking into the office one day with a colleague, let's call him Peter. Peter said 'Good morning, Sabrina!' and I was about to say 'How did you know my name?' when I caught myself. That one would have been really difficult to talk my way out of.
How's that work?
I was at a sex party with my girlfriend, fucking her on a couch. She was on her back and I was pumping away between her legs, so from behind or from the side it would have looked like two girls going for it. Two girls walked past and one said to the other, "How does that work?". At that point I turned around to see who was talking, and they realised that I was a tranny, instead of a real girl. Without missing a beat, the first girl said, "Oh, that's how that works..." and the two of them continued on their way.
Condom packaging
Have
you ever really looked at the packaging on condoms? Next time you're at
the supermarket or chemist (Priceline is really good for this, as they
have a wide range), have a look at the imagery used to sell condoms.
The 'box art'
(sorry for the inappropriate double entendre) is always interestingly
instructive.
For example, Ansell's Contempo range features cartoon-style drawings of
fantasy women somehow
linked to the type of condom; for example, the ultra-thin one has a
woman in an
ultra-thin, see-through negligee on the box, while the extra-strong
version shows a
Nordic-looking warrior chick in leather. The Durex ones are quite
neutral, while the Four Seasons packets link the image the back to the
type of condom. While the Ansell Lifestyles packets show people, they
are mostly shadowy, often gender-neutral, figures (suggestive of
androgynous ASIO agents caught on infra-red film). This is interesting
because those condoms which are likely to appeal more to the gay market
(eg: Four Seasons extra strength) show male-oriented or neutral images.
The ultra-thin condoms, however, are generally not recommended for anal
sex, and so their packaging shows either couples, single females, or
(in the case of the Durex Fetherlites) seem somehow to be quite
feminine. I thought
it was an interesting case of the marketing and packaging of an item
being related to its target market.
Saints and Sinners
Saints & Sinners was fantastic (but then, it always is). The major problem was the 30-45 min queue for the cloakroom, but once past that it was all really good. The stage entertainment is usually pretty woeful (they have a female and then a male stripper- very mainstream hetero) but this time they included one of the entertainers from Primal People (Abode's alternative talent agency) whose name escapes me. She's an ultra-goth girl who dances with an angle-grinder; she wears a costume with metal panels and does stuff like thrusting the angle grinder between her legs so that sparks go everywhere; very entertaining. I caught up with (ie: shagged) a lady I'd met at a gangbang the week before, and caught up with (ie: chatted to) several people I only see at the party.
It was at Chaser's in Chapel St, which I'd never been to, and I was a little irritated to discover that the freestanding tent that they have for shagging in was in a back room which I hadn't discovered until about 2.30am. I'd spent part of the evening complaining that there wasn't a huge amount of room to shag, when there was this whole other space I hadn't found. This possibly serves me right for not exploring more thoroughly at the beginning of the evening.
I was asked to go home with a really sexy PVC-clad tranny, but I didn't have any clothes for the morning with me and I didn't really want to get home looking like a girl with trashed makeup and five o'clock shadow, so I had to regretfully decline. I got home at about 5.15am after a really, really good night.
A swingers' party in May
At a recent , I was playing in one of the bedrooms at a (somewhat sleazy) swinger's party when someone really familiar-looking walked down the corridor past the bedroom door. I didn't get a very good look at them, but I thought it was the female partner of the proprietor of a well-known venue, who would probably know me (in tgirl form) by sight but not by name. I thought this was odd, because they didn't strike me as the kind of couple who'd be into a somewhat sleazy-ish party like this one.
Later, in the social area, I went up to her to say hello. She turned around and looked at me as if to say 'who the hell are you?'. As I said hello, I became aware of another familiar-looking face nearby; with horror, I realised that it was the male half of a couple my ex-wife and I had swung with some years previously, and who didn't know about Sabrina. The familiar-looking woman wasn't the venue proprietor's partner at all, but the female half of the swinger couple. Needless to say, I said a hurried hello and escaped without them realising who I was... but that didn't stop the male half of the swinger couple from touching me up in one of the play rooms later in the evening.
After a bondage party in about April- or maybe October
I had my first tranny threesome tonight- it was fantastic. Two other tgirls were going back to one of the tgirls' place, and they asked me if I'd like to join them. Obviously I said yes, and so we all ended up back at this tgirl's flat on a folding bed. The other invitee and I both ended up fucking our host, and it was wonderful- really sexy. It helped that there was a big mirror off a wardrobe door in the room. Thank you, girls, I had a really great time.
A major swingers' party in June 2006
I was at a large, well-known erotic fancy-dress ball where I'd hooked up with a young lady. We were sitting on a bean bag getting rather friendly, and my right hand was getting itself intimately acquainted with her lower regions. I thought that we were probably about to have sex, but we hadn't discussed it and I didn't want to assume that that was what she wanted.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. There was a youngish guy next to us on the bean bag, with his hand on the young lady's leg.
"Are you going to have sex with her?" he asked.
"I don't know!" I said, incredulous.
"Well, if you're not going to, do you mind if I do?" he said.
Frankly, I was amazed. With as much scorn as I could muster, I shot back, "I think the young lady might have something to say about that". With that he looked a bit taken aback, and left.
At the time, I was surprised for two reasons. Firstly, I thought he assumed that because I was en femme, that I wasn't into shagging real girls (a hugely incorrect assumption, obviously). Secondly, he was breaking into the middle of an ongoing activity to ask if he could join in. In a catch-22 situation, clearly it's rude to just jump straight in without asking, but it's also rude to interrupt to ask (which is a point Easton & Liszt make in The Ethical Slut; they argue that there is no good way to enter an ongoing scene once it's begun). Anyway, I was quite surprised, although I know I shouldn't have been.
I subsequently ran into the gentleman concerned at the next party, and he admitted that he tapped me on the shoulder because he didn't think a tranny would be interested in a real girl and he didn't think I was going to shag her!
A Saturday in July
My credit card has been bad lately, so I have punished it by giving a good flogging. Unfortunately, today I went to Brunswick St. This is unfortunate because I have double-purchased a number of things lately.
Firstly, I was after a black military- style uniform jacket to wear to bondage parties. After much searching of army disposals stores in the city, I found a grey Luftwaffe (German air force) jacket for $30, which I bought on Wednesday. I was also after a pendant to go around my neck; I usually wear a pentagram, but I was after something Celtic. On Friday afternoon, after I gave up looking for something Celtic, I found a nice winged cacadeus (two snakes entwined around a staff) at Spellbox, a really cool Wiccan-ish shop in the city, which I bought.
On Saturday, I went to Brunswick St. Foolishly, I stopped in at Victorian Gothic, who had exactly the type of Celtic pendant I was after. Walking back to the car, I found a garage sale near the Ministry of Style who had, among other things, a black military- style uniform, exactly what I initially had in mind, for $10. Bugger. Clearly it never pays to stop looking...
A Saturday night
I went to one of Melbourne's newer swingers parties tonight. I've been before but this time I had the best time I've had in quite a while. I don't know why, but basically I got the greatest number of guys wanting me to suck them that I've ever had- at one point there must have been about half a dozen guys all standing around me waiting. I think I sucked ten guys that night, which is a record for me.
A Friday night
I decided tonight that I really like tall trannies. I was at a nightclub, sitting back next to the dance floor watching four tall, gorgeous tgirls dancing in a group, and it was a fantastic visual treat. Much as I like being relatively short (for a tranny- I think it makes me a bit more passable) I really like seeing tall tgirls. Of course, I really like ones my height too...
Last day in January 2006
Today I bought the Sisters of Mercy's greatest hits album, 'A Slight Case of Overbombing', and fuck it is awesome. I've always liked tSoM but this just reconfirms it for me all over again.
A long caffeine-fuelled Saturday night
Well! I had a wonderful night last night. I was out with two other tgirls I'd met before, and we had a fantastic time at a bondage night at an inner-city nightclub. I almost didn't go because I had a panic attack just as I was leaving and I was late to pick up my friend, but I'm really glad I did. Some of the highlights included:
- one of my friends was introduced to gentle bondage play, and I think she quite enjoyed it.
- I was flirted with outrageously by a lovely gentleman. I find that I really, really enjoy someone who can flirt to the limit without stepping across the boundary of deniability. This guy was smart enough to know where the boundary was, quick-witted enough to go right up to it, and more than sexy enough that he could have held my interest on the other side of it.
- as I was adjusting my makeup, a very pretty young lady (a real one!) said to me that I was beautiful and didn't need any more. I am a bit self-conscious about my makeup some times and it was lovely of her to say that; with hindsight I regret not saying thank you for the compliment more directly.
- on the way home I stopped for petrol (very poor planning- I should have filled the car before I got dressed) and was wolf-whistled by someone in a car driving past. This is the first time this has happened to me. I was wearing fishnets, miniskirt, mesh top, bra, and... reef sandals- I can't drive well in heels- so I must have looked at treat at 5.00am in the petrol station forecourt. I didn't look around so I don't know if they knew I was a tgirl or not.
- I spent some of the evening playing hide-and-seek with someone who knows the Monday-Friday version of me, but who doesn't know the Friday night/Saturday night version of me. At one point he came and stood next to me in a group conversation. In retrospect, instead of fleeing as subtly and gracefully as I could, I should have stood my ground and waited to be introduced.
- I discovered that a chocolate bar (a Cadbury Nut Break, to be precise) fits very nicely inside my handbag and makes a wonderful snack at about 1.00am.
- And there was some emotional stuff going on inside my head which I'm not going to talk about.
A week after the previous entry
Went out again with my ladyfriend. We started at the Candy Bar; although the place was nice, I felt slightly uncomfortable because of all the women (real ones) in low-cut tops. There must have been a dozen girls all dressed for a Friday night, and we were the only two tgirls. Having said that, it would be a great venue in right company. After a few drinks, we left.
We decamped to Polly's Bar in Brunswick St. The barman said 'what would you two ladies like?', which was very nice to hear. I felt very comfortable at polly's even though (or perhaps because?) it was crowded. Their coffee is absolutely divine; I can well recommend this place.
Unfortunately, on the way to our next venue, a very large spider ran across the windscreen! Another one! I let out a most unladylike growl along the lines of 'oh, for fuck's sake!' and stoppped the car, but it had gone. I have no idea where is it, but it's still presumably in the car somewhere.
Our final venue for the night was Cabaret Nocturne, a goth dance party held at Dream nightclub in Carlton. By this time we were both feeling frisky so we didn't stay long; we went back to my place and played happily until the early hours of the morning. I finished lying on my back with my ladyfriend holding me close and kissing me, and I squirted all over my nice new lace top. Although the stains came out, I'd better not wear it under UV light!
A Friday night in early 2006
I went out with a tgirl friend on a Friday night. We had arranged to meet at 9.30pm; I didn't arrive until 10.15, because around the corner from my house a large striped spider ran across the windscreen of my car. (I'm not sure of the significance of it being striped. Perhaps it was a pinstriped businessspider?). I got out to try to squash it; this breaks my heart, because I cannot stand to kill another living thing. However, large spiders in the car could be a safety hazard, and therefore regrettably I had to dispatch it. So there I was, with a skirt barely covering my arse and my tummy bare, in heels, next to a busy main road at 10pm on a Friday night just around the corner from my house. Brilliant! I was stopped in the service lane with my hazard lights on; a car driving past slowed noticeably, perhaps for a look... I hope it wasn't anyone I know.
After this unpleasant diversion, I picked my ladyfriend up at her place and we went to a tgirl-friendly locale of, shall we say, bohemian reputation. Never having been there before, I suppose at that point I wasn't fully aware of the range of possibility contained in such an evening. We got a drink and made small talk for some time. After our second drink we retired to another room and sat together in an armchair kissing. Having completely removed each others' lipstick, we then explored some of the other rooms.
Sitting down again elsewhere, after not very long we found ourselves surrounded by a representative selection of couples. To our left, a gay Asian + Anglo couple masturbated each other, until the Asian guy leaned over and buried his face in his partner's groin. To our right, a woman performed oral sex on her transvestite boyfriend, while beyond them, two submissive women were playing with a dominant man in a harness. Further away, a dominant woman whipped a man bound to a frame, while elsewhere two (or was it three?) couples played. One young woman with perky breasts performed oral sex on her female friend, while another girl was held in a restraint. I only saw some of this, however, as I had my face in my ladyfriend's lap at the time. While none of the sexual combinations I saw were new to me, it was the first time I had seen them all together. It was almost as though a swingers' party, a BDSM club, a tgirl party, and a sauna had all fallen down a slippery-dip together and ended up in a pile at the bottom. We eventually stumbled home at about 5am, thoroughly satisfied.
Some time in October
Sabrina got a blowjob in a car by the river from a nice young gentleman this evening. Much as I like being naughty, it isn't really all that much fun when you're wondering if those headlights are another couple out for a hot time, or a police patrol.
Tuesday, February 7th
I told my parents about my sexuality tonight. This was, frankly, quite scary. My (separated) wife came with me to support me, which I was very grateful for. I had rung to ask Mum to meet us out for coffee, telling her we had some news, but not what she thought. After a while, she asked what we were there for. I basically told her that the previous weekend I had been to the gay pride march and that I was bisexual. Then we went home and I told Dad as well. He was fairly quiet for a while.
one Thursday night in early 2006
I went out in public for the first time this evening! Leaving the house was quite frankly terrifying, but once out I settled down. I did get a wave from a woman with lots of curly hair in another car, though; she obviously knew straight away. I met another tgirl at the Cherry Bomb Bar in Smith St, Collingwood. There were very few people out on the street, and not a ridiculously huge number inside, so it was a really good introductory experience. We talked for a very long time and kissed. She had a latex glove, which she caressed me with; I would never have believed that the feeling of rubber on skin could be so amazing. I remember someone saying that going out en femme for the first time time was like losing your virginity; now I know what they meant.
early hours of a Sunday morning in mid 2006
A woman I know (a real one) had SMSed me and asked for a lift home, as she'd been drinking. She knows me well enough to know that I would oblige, but not quite well enough to know Sabrina, so I went not dressed. As we were travelling to her place, discussing the Vin Diesel spy/action movie 'XXX', she made the comment: "I'd lick the sweat of Vin Diesel's head... actually, I'd lick the sweat off your head, and not necessarily the one on your shoulders". With that, she proceeded to unzip my trousers and perform oral sex on me as I drove at 80kph. Goodness me! How easy is it to concentrate when you're being given a blowjob? Not very, even at the best of times. In fact, there should be a Transport Accident Commission commercial about it, perhaps with the tag line: "You could blow more than your licence". When we got to her place she invited me in (obviously) and she seemed quite keen to have sex. I deduced this because she led me to the bedroom, dropped to her knees, and started undoing my trousers again. I thought about this for a little while- maybe three seconds?- and agreed, but I think she knew I'd be reasonably likely to say yes. While we were going at it, she rang a friend, evidently another lover of hers, and proceeded to describe to him what we were doing. I frankly felt quite sorry for the poor fellow, because he'd had a bit to drink and couldn't drive over to join us. Consequently, there he was, listening to the young lady grunt and squirm, and he presumably had to take care of himself. During the course of proceedings she offered me a facial (after she'd hung up, which was fortunate for the other guy, and even more fortunate for the phone). Needless to say, I accepted.
A Monday in late December 2005
I had a wonderful threesome with a lovely young tgirl and a guy this afternoon. She videotaped proceedings and it finished with her lying back holding the videocamera pointed at her face while the guy and I gave her a facial. She ended up completely covered in semen, which made quite a pornographic movie.
The first Monday in December 2005
After struggling for three weeks to find a silver armband, and being quoted $500 to have one made, I finally discover one in a little second-hand clothing shop in the city. It's got a nice Celtic pattern on it which goes quite nicely with my look.
More information:
The Age's 'Sam and the City' blog