Dick exposure therapy

Remember when I wore a (strap-on) dick during sex with NN for the first time? Remember how fucking terrified I was? Oh, and remember back when I first started jerking off, using a prosthetic dick? How shameful that was, how much I was freaking out? Or way back in May when I first admitted to wanting a dick in the first place? I had to loose the trust of a good friend, before admitting the truth to myself.

Well, it's happening again. And again, it's dick related. I've discovered something new that makes me euphoric, and turned on. And it terrifies me. 

Not the sexual act itself. I don't think there's a single sexual act or kink that I couldn't talk about with a straight face and resting heart rate. I've been in the kink scene for so many years by now, it takes a lot to shock me. Something as simple as water sports, which is what this is all about, does not in any way terrify me. 

It hasn't been a big kink of mine before, but I've been open to the idea. I talked with Daisy and her (then) dom about peeing on her at some future play session back in 2016, and although that session never happened, I was open to the idea. And back in 2012, I forced Tight to wet themself in a session that was all about humiliation. So wet sex / water sports / the idea of peeing on someone doesn't frighten me. It just didn't appeal to me much.. 

Doing that with a dick, though... That thought's terrifying. And exciting. Very, very exciting. The idea of standing over someone, legs lightly spread, dick in hand, and pee on them.. Watching the stream pour out of the head of my dick, being able to direct it by moving my dick around.. The stream hitting them, running down their head, face, body.. Damn! 

I haven't had the slightest interest in being able to stand to pee before. I don't mind sitting when I go to the toilet, it doesn't bother me. But this. THIS! This is something else. Now I want it. A lot. And it terrifies me. 

What is this fear? Why this rushing heart rate, elevated blood pressure, tightness in the lower belly? Why this shortness of breath, this desire to flee? If not physically, then at least mentally? Dissociate. Escape!

It feels like shame. That's what I feel when I try to confront it. Crippling shame, just waiting to be named, called out, mocked. And the worst part, the best part, the most dangerous, scary, shameful part, is when I'm seen. Seen wearing a dick, seen jerking off. When my desire, my horniness, is not only seen but acknowledged. Embraced. Celebrated. It's terrifying, and glorious. It's healing, it's a baptism through fire. Confronting my deepest, most shameful self, lifting it out into the light. 

I think what I'm most afraid of is the ridicule. Because it takes SO much vulnerability to show this side of me to anyone. To let someone in. That's why I was shaking that first time I was with NN. Not only is this deeply personal, deeply shameful to me... But he saw me, he saw me laid bare. No semblance, no armor. Just me. The me that I know, deep down, is undesirable, unlovable, despicable, disgusting, vile. The me that I've spent so, so many years trying to hide. 

I can't remember ever making a conscious choice, I can't remember ever knowing that I was trans until last year... But that's obviously what must have happened. And whether there was an actual traumatic event, sometime when my desires to not be a girl really was mocked, I have no idea. It's possible my mind just extrapolated, but it was certainly based on good data; I was already being mocked and bullied for being who they thought I was... For being as similar to them as I was able. And not even that was good enough to be left alone. I couldn't possibly take off that mask and show them even weirder sides of me, could I?

As always, when writing about difficult subjects, I stray from the topic at hand. My mind shies away from it, like a burn that is painful to touch. So, back on track:

Yesterday, I wore the Joystick with Elle again. Just wore it, as we were cuddling and petting. She would pet it too, stroke it, like you would a real dick. She told me she got turned on by it, by me wearing it. I'd press against her, hump her, as she moaned in my ear. In the end, I jerked off (the base of the Joystick vibrates) and came while lying next to her. 

I've done similar things previously, with her and others, but its different now. My guards are down, or at least much more down than they were before. I dare to be vulnerable with her, to stay present, to set boundaries. To tell her I need a break, when my mind gets too overwhelmed. I dare to show myself as I truly am, and she hasn't ridiculed me yet. Not mocked me. Neither did NN, that first time. Nor Student, when I did similar things with him. Each time, the walls come further down. Each time, I prove to my terrified, traumatized, angst filled brain that it's ok; Ok to want this. Ok to want a dick. Ok to be turned on by it. Ok. To. Be. Trans.

Really, really trans. Undeniably. And it's ok. 

It's exposure therapy, really. A way of working through the mind blocks that I unconsciously created over the last 35 years, to stop me from realizing that I was trans. Each time I pass a hurdle, a new one soon shows up. A bit bigger and more terrifying than the last. So far, I've surmounted them all, though not without struggle. 

A couple of days ago, I got my doctor's signature and ordered the Peecock for free through the state health system: An stp (stand-to-pee device) that can also be used for play, if rods are inserted into it. When it arrives, I'll start practicing peeing with it. 

I'm still afraid, still stressed out, still really turned on by it all... Though I'm also deeply amused that peeing on my girlfriend can be viewed as a form of therapy.