New Kink Unlocked

Elle and I had a really, really good evening last night. A good, long talk concerning the topics from my last two blog posts. After that we played and fucked and cuddled for a good.. Five hours, maybe more. Glorious! I don't think we've had an evening like that since she moved into her new place. I felt so much closer to her, more accepted. Loved. It was wonderful. 

I wrote just over a month ago about a new kink I'd unlocked: Watersports. I never really got the point before, but now that I can involve a dick on my end all of a sudden it makes sense. So much sense. It's something Elle is really interested in too, but haven't actually tried with a partner before.. So that's somethinig we'll be working towards. Part one will be for me to practice standing up to pee, both alone (to get familiar with that use of pelvic flood muscles) and with her (to get familiar with peeing standing up with her present). 

Once I'm used to that, we'll probably use it in a session. Peeing on her, while she's kneeling in front of me (probably IN the shower, because fucking hell anything else just isn't practical!). Seeing it run down her head and back, seeing the humiliation in her eyes as she's used like nothing more than a pee post. Then ordering her to clean herself up, like the dirty girl she is. This scenario is really appealing, and not something that would have turned me on much in the past. 

That "unlocking" of a new kink happened just over a month ago. It's exhausting to think you've got yourself figured out, only to realize that both gender, sexual orientation and now even sexual preferences are completely up in the air. I feel this very strongly right now, because last night, I unlocked another kink. (This one gendered too, like everything is these days.)

I suddenly see the appeal of age play. 

I've known about age play ever since I entered the scene at 18, and once I talked to some age players and learned more, I accepted it. Understood it on an intellectual level. I never "got" the appeal, though. Not on an emotional level. I especially never understood the appeal for the Big/Adult in the scene. 

Now I do. 

Elle has very carefully hinted that she's a bit into this for a few weeks. Not pushing, just mentioning it in passing. Last night, while cuddling and doing aftercare, she started sucking on my thumb. Now, she's sucked my fingers before, in that "this is a dick-substitute"-kind of way, which is hot of course.. But this was different. This was in the "cuddling child sucks her thumb"-kind of way. I realized what was going on immediately, and it felt... Right. So I called her "my good, little girl", and felt her melt into my arms. (I've called her a "good girl" a lot, which she likes, but it was the "little" that made the difference this time.)

I'm a sucker for reactions. Any sort of reaction, really, but especially positive reactions. To see her cuddle deeper into my arms, tension draining from her body, hear her slight sigh.. That was magical. 

We talked about it a few minutes later, still cuddling close, and she told me she felt a need for that safety. For someone else to be responsible, for her to feel cared for and held. She doesn't really care for the "sit on the floor and doodle in a kid's drawing book" kind of stuff (she enjoys drawing, but that wouldn't feel kinky). I don't really see the appeal in that either. However, I find a lot of appeal in the traditional, really dirty and taboo gender roles that this sort of play gives room for. 

I want to play that dirty older man who defiles a young, innocent, pure, little girl. The preacher who attacks the girls in Sunday School. The uncle who holds the young niece on his lap, while she squirms... Both with embarrassment, discomfort and a new-found desire. I want to be called "Sir", want her to beg me to stop, as she tries to pull down her skirts or cover herself. I'll laugh and order her hands away, the strip her bare for the world to see. I want her to blush, hating it and loving it at the same time. 

This all feels INCREDIBLY taboo. Age play absolutely is, but having actual young kids at home myself makes it a lot worse. I know, intellectually, that there's absolutely no link between age play and pedophilia... Yet I also know how society as a whole views these kinds of kinks. And I carry a shit ton of internalized -phobia, shame, because of that. Yet there isn't anything wrong with sexual role play between consenting adults, no matter the subject at hand. The fact that it is so taboo is probably also part of the appeal. (To be clear: I have absolutely no interest in actual kids like this. Absolutely not. Consenting adults is the only, ONLY way.) 

What's even more taboo is that I realized that I'm curious about putting her in diapers. Not for scat play, that doesn't appeal at all.. But I'm already curious about water sports and orgasm control, among other things, so this doesn't feel like such a stretch. I enjoy the thought of lubing up a finger, putting my hand down her diaper and checking that her insides are clean.. Enjoy stuffing a but plug in there, or some other toy, and watch her squirm as she can't stimulate herself. Enjoy the thought of putting her over my knee and spanking her for wetting her diapers. Talking of her bum, or tush, not her ass. Her "pee-pee" or similar childish term, not her dick or clit. 

But perhaps most of all, I've fantasized today about having her kneel on a bed or a stool, dressed up as a young girl. Then make her bend over for me, playing at her not knowing what's going on, some slight verbal protests, playing all innocent and pure for me... Then pull down her panties (not strings! proper panties!), exposing her bum.. Then fucking her. Fucking her until I come, then pulling up her underwear (maybe even diapers?) and completely ignoring the raging inferno of horniness that I've just ignited between her legs. Watching her squirm and moan. Telling her to stand up, curtsy, thank me for using her. Make her go about her day, lube still dripping from her hole, soiling her pantie or diaper.

That's today's fantasy. It feels so, so wrong... And so, so right. There's definitely a new kink unlocked.

Stating your preference

Communication is hard. 

Communication both means expressing a message, AND ensuring that the message that is being understood is vaguely similar to what you wanted to communicate. So many things can create "noise", from either the sender or the receiver side of things, and thereby warping the message. That's how misunderstandings occur. 

Elle and I are misunderstanding each other these days. It's neither's fault, it just happens, but it something we really need to work on. From my end, I have very, very long experience with being rejected and feeling unwanted. So I try not to ask, because rejection hurts so much. In stead, I try to interpret body signals, looks, and other non-verbal cues. If I get the impression that she isn't into something, I often won't pursue it, rather than pushing and being rejected.

However, she also struggles with asking for what she wants. She even struggles with stating what she wants in a way that communicated how much she wants it. I don't think she even allows herself to really feel how much she wants things. If you really want something, it matters more. And rejection, or simply lacking what you desire, hurts more, too. This is also a form of rejection sensitivity, very similar to my own. 

When I ask what she's into, and get lukewarm responses.. When I ask her what she would like to experience at a party we're going to in a few days, or how she'd like us to spend our time together that evening, and all I get are shoulder shrugs and "meh"... That's not enthusiastic consent, in my eyes. "But!", you might interject, "you can't consent to anything if you aren't presented with options to say yes or no to!". Which is true.... I just struggle with even presenting those options, if someone's demeanor is "meh" to begin with. 

The fact that she's so much of a people-pleaser makes it even more difficult, because I don't want to put her in a position where she feels like she's disappointing me. It's very uncomfortable being the person doing the rejecting, too. I hate the idea of making her uncomfortable or guilting her into going along with me. I love her so much, so her feelings and opinions matter a lot to me. She told me last night: "I already struggle with saying what I want, I will never ask for things I don't desire." Which I can understand, intellectually... I just can't wrap my head around it emotionally. I'm unable to really trust her word, when I suspect some other underlying cause or motive. 

This is also coupled with my fear of being selfish. I feel undeserving. The last three times we've had sex, she's told me to "use her" and "take what I want". Which is hot, and ought to make me feel good, but it really feels like a trap. It doesn't feel like free reign to ACTUALLY do what I want, because I have no idea going into that situation what SHE really wants. And I want to please her, to give her pleasure, to make her feel good. To make US feel good. And I need to feel wanted. Her lying passively on her back and letting me "use her" doesn't really do it for me, if I can't be absolutely certain it's something she gets pleasure from. 

That situation feels more like "I don't really feel like sex, but I guess I can lie her while you do your thing... Just get it over with". And when I'm horny enough, I'll take it. Because I'm fucking desperate. But it doesn't make me feel good, afterwards. On the contrary, it makes me feel guilty of taking advantage of her. Using her body for my own pleasure, with very little thought to her's. 

The only solution to this, is for both of us to try to be more vulnerable with each other. Trust each other. However, just saying "well, you'll just both have to say what you want", isn't as simple as it sounds. Being vulnerable is scary, and it opens us up for more rejection. Even though she tells me what she wants, I won't always be able to fulfill her desires.. And even though I tell her I want to have sex with her, doesn't mean she'll always want the same. 

We need to make plans for HOW she can reject me in ways that hurt less.. For example "no, I don't want to have sex right now, but I'd love it if you'd let me hold you while you gave yourself an orgasm". In the same vein, we need to figure out HOW I can suggest, or ask about things in a way that makes her able to express degrees of desire. And HOW we can ensure that I believe what she says, and don't chalk it up to her being a people-pleaser or feeling coerced. Maybe some sort of scale (1-10 or something) could be useful? I don't know, don't have all the answers yet. 

I just know that I want to work on this. This rejection sensitivity we're both struggling with, ought to make us uniquely qualified to understand the other person. I think we can work this out. I believe in us. It just takes work.

Undesired

I started this blog originally, because T didn't believe me when I said we hadn't had sex for several months. So I figured I'd document every time we had sex, as a way to prove my claim. That was back in 2007, we'd only been together for about 2,5 years. We worked ok sexually in the first year, but were never really that compatible to begin with. So it quickly faded once we started living together. 

Saint and I worked really well sexually for the first few years, we're very compatible in many ways. However, it started lagging a bit while I was doing IVF treatments in 2014 and 2015. We rekindled the spark in the fall of 2016, when we tried to conceive, but since then our sex life has been minimal. We have the occasional play session, and there's a week or two sometimes when I think we're getting back into things.. But it doesn't last.

Even before T and Saint, I had gotten used to my sex drive being too much for my partners. We'd have a lot of wonderful, fulfilling sex at first, but once the crush became something more serious, our sex life would dwindle. Every guy, when told about this experience, claimed that it wouldn't happen with HIM.. And yet it did, every time. Saint is the one who lasted the longest, but even that eventually disappeared.

It hasn't always been his fault. When I was pregnant and the first few months of nursing, for example, I had very sporadic interest in sex. However, these past three years, I've been very, very into it.. And he hasn't.

This has been a problem all of my life; I've been too horny, had too much of a sex drive, been too needy.. Then I started testosterone. That has in no way, shape or form made my drive any less. 

I detest being rejected. I already struggle with taking up space, feeling like I deserve attention and love. I very quickly feel like I'm unwanted or in the way. I also detest the idea of being a nag, someone who can't take a hint, who keeps bothering someone when they've clearly showed that they aren't interested. I fervently don't want to be one of THOSE guys, who guilt their partner into having sex with them. Nothing kills sex drive faster than guilt and resentment, after all. 

I just want to be desired. Want to be wanted. 

I don't want anyone to have sex with me, because they feel they SHOULD. I want them to have sex with me, because they WANT to have sex with me. The only common denominator here is me, so the problem has to be with me. Why don't anyone want to KEEP having sex with me?!?

How I am perceived

I'm in this weird in-between-stage now. I think just over 50% of those I encounter in my day-to-day life see me as a man, but there's still a significant minority who gender me as a woman. So I can never know, when I walk into a pharmacy or a clothing store or a public office of some kind, which gender I'm viewed as, or if they clock me as trans or not. 

I have no idea what THEY know, or think they know, about me. Does a woman who sees me instinctively know that I know what period cramps feel like? Does a man who see me assume that I know how it feels to grow up as a boy? Does a trans person know I'm one of them, if I don't say it?

I've become so used to the "us women" kind of mentality. I've lived through #metoo, I've grown up as a "good girl", I've shared memes along the lines of "we are the daughters of the witches you couldn't burn". I've always used that common ground as a way to build trust with other women. Now that's gone. All of a sudden, women I don't know keep me at an emotional arm's length. Even when I told my client (in a job meeting) that I was trans and used to live as a woman, that emotional distance was still there. Appearance, instincts, matter more than intellectual knowledge apparently. 

That experience is both really affirming, because it means I wasn't seen as a woman.. But it's also.. Bittersweet. I'm loosing a social interaction tool that I've been pretty reliant upon. I need to find other tools, other ways to connect with people and build trust. Especially with women. I wasn't prepared for that. I guess I should have been, it was bound to happen... But I wasn't. 

Oh well, it's all part of the change. The transition. 

I welcome the challenge. 

Cis women can't have ruined orgasms

There's a distinct difference between the orgasms of someone who's testosterone dominant versus estrogen dominant. At least in my experience. 

When my body had estrogen as it's main sex hormone, my orgasms would build. It would be possible to ruin the build, have me "re-start" more or less. But there wouldn't be a point-of-no-return where the orgasm itself could be ruined. If I came, but didn't stimulate, the orgasm would still feel nice. 

Now that my body is testosterone dominant, there's a very slight time gap between the point-of-no-return where the orgasm WILL happen... And the pleasure actually kicking in. Maybe as much as half a second. I'm confident that it's possible, if stimulus is removed at the exact right point, for me to get the orgasm without the pleasure. (I haven't tried this, why the fuck would I. But I can feel that time gap, so I'm fairly sure it's possible.) THAT's a ruined orgasm. 

So. Now we know. 

The pacing of an orgasm, right at the plateau, is controlled by hormones. 

Interesting.

Only half the body

 Today, marks 8 months on testosterone. I just increased my dose again a few days ago, so I now have more acne than ever. That's a bother. The rest of it, though.. The rest is wonderful. I'm really impatient with the changes. The downy, almost see-through hairs on my upper lip aren't visible enough, the growing clit is far from big enough, the deepening voice isn't deep enough. I want more, moooore. Yet I also recognize that it's a good thing I can't change everything overnight. This allows my mental image of myself to keep up with the physical reality of how I look. 

I used to have trouble staying present in my own body, and would for short bursts struggle to recognize my mirror image as myself. That doesn't happen anymore. On the other hand, my feelings of generalized anxiety are much more present and noticeable these days. That's the cost of less dissociation: I'm so much more in touch with my own feelings now, so I notice more how crap I feel. 

For example, I usually don't wear a binder during sex anymore. Having boobs, even visible exposed boobs, doesn't cause me to dissociate. However, I can only bear dysphoria for one half of my body at the time. Meaning that if someone (myself included) are working on my "downstairs", I need to cover the "upstairs" somehow. A binder, a t-shirt, a pillow, anything so the boobs aren't visible. Not doing so causes a tremendous amount of anxiety. Before, I wasn't aware of that anxiety. That's what the dissociation did. 

On closer inspection, I guess it's still dissociation."I don't really notice the dysphoria much if only half of my body is in focus".. That's got to be a limited form of dissociation, right? However, while I might be dissociating the dysphoric pain away, I stay me. My gender, my mind. I don't go on autopilot anymore. That's something, at least.

Trails of the egg

Like I mentioned in my previous post, that new guy has read through my entire blog. This is what that post was SUPPOSED to be about, but I got side tracked. So here it is: Old trails, clues, about my gender from many years ago.

In his read-through he's stumbled upon some incredible finds; Basically going on an archaeological dig in my old thoughts, finding trails of the egg. Because the egg was there, definitely. I may not have known I was trans, but when you read back KNOWING that was the outcome.. Well, like petrified footprints from dinosaurs, a lot can be read from those trails. 

He's found three, so far. I've already written about one of them, which I wrote in 2014 after fucking a man in the ass with a strap-on for the first time. In 2014, I wrote: 

"sometimes when I masturbate, I fantasize about having a penis of my own. I image that the things I feel on my clit, is actually felt on the tip of a penis. That the thrusting movements I make with my hips, are thrusting movements inside of somebody. I've kind of done this in real life already, just without the sensation of an actual dick. So I imagine that I'm doing things exactly like when I use a strap-on on Saint, but in stead of a fake cock I dream that it's MY cock. That I'm taking him, controlling him, devouring him, possessing him. Fucking him. Me."

Then there's this one from 2016, about receiving a blow job on the strap-on:  

"It's a silicone dildo... That shouldn't feel good for me. There are no nerve endings there. It makes no sense. And yet... And yet, I get SO turned on by it. And so does he. (...)

In fact, for the rest of that night I wore the strap on harness underneath my dress. Not with the dick in place, but still.. Just the harness turns me on. It makes me feel powerful.

Weird, I know."

Or, as we now know: Not weird at all. Haha!

Looking through old photos, I also found one of me walking in the Oslo Pride parade of 2011 while "crossdressing" (wearing a man's hat, a white shirt, black trousers and a vest). But I though that was the earliest concrete trail there was.. I was wrong. The new guy found this nugget from 2010, and it's pure gold. There's way too much here to quote it all, but here's a few snippets (corrected for spelling errors): 

"Ever since I was a young teenager, I've had a "thing" for men who sexually interact with other men. (...)

for a period of at least three years (it's hard to put dates on these things, so it might have been more), I read almost no short stories with heterosexual couples as the protagonists. I wanted, and diligently searched for, erotic fiction about gay men. And gay men only. The subject could be anything, but as I look back I see that my favorite stories weren't about "gays" in the typical sense of the word. But rather of apparently straight men who ended up having sex with other men and enjoying the experience."

So the transformation, the self-discovery, the broadening of sex- and gender preferences is what interested me. Curious that.......

And then I come out and write it, black on white: 

"Part of it, I think, is the thought everyone had when they were kids: "What if I were the opposite gender for a short period of time? What would it feel like?"

Could it get any clearer?

I also touch up the feeling of shame that I've written SO much about lately. The feeling that probably acted as a protective barrier, keeping any knowledge of my own gender identity away:

"I remember a short moment, in one of the videos, where a man passionatly kisses another man. And again, I felt this thingling inside me. Excitement and curriousity, rolled in with a hint of what I think might be shame. As if I was seeing something forbidden, spying on them. But come on! It was porn! So obviously, I must be responding to something else.

(...)

However, I still think there are reasons here that I haven't uncovered. I don't know what they are. If Freud was here, he'd probably call it penis-envy, but I suspect that's his answer to practically anything. However, the fact remains: Men in affectionate, sexual situations involving other men is fascinating. And bizarely, kissing is more fascinating than a blow job. At least right now.

I find this strange, this fascination. I'd forgotten it even excited, and yet I suspect it's been there for years. I just haven't been aware of it."

It's clear as glass. I was trans in 2010. And in writing that post, I'm referring back to sexual and litterary preferences from when I was around 12. That's 1997. I was trans then. I don't know WHEN the thought "what if I was the opposite gender" actually struck me, I can't remember now. But I obviously remembered this back in 2010, and I wouldn't have written "kid" if I meant back when I was 12. I didn't consider myself a kid when I was 12. So it's probably from even earlier. I was trans then too. 

This post feels EXACTLY like the old post I wrote about BDSM called "I am true".

"in my experience, the most "dedicated" BDSM people and fetishists can trace their interests back. Either to their childhood (age 4-7, typically, and most common for fetishists) or early teens (age 11-14). Incidents where their interest in this subject has made itself clear, long before they knew what any of it was called.  (...)

because I had no indication that my interest in BDSM came from inside of me, I was afraid I wasn't "true". Wasn't "for real". You're probably laughing at me, wanting to tell me that every experience in the last few years points to the opposite. But you can't rationalize this, because it isn't logical."

This post does the same thing, but with being trans. Through that post from 2010, referring to stuff I did and thought when I was 12 or younger, I can trace my "transness" back to my early teens. Back to early puberty. I still don't have definite proof, I don't think I ever will. But it's something to calm my nervous mind when it once again starts angsting about whether I've just made it all up, tricked myself, brainwashed myself. I haven't. I didn't. I was trans then, I just didn't know it yet. And I'm trans now. Undeniably.

A new novice

I played with a new person a week ago. A submissive, uncertain geek. And new to the BDSM-scene. (Back to my typical pattern, in other words.) This is also a masochist, which is a lot of fun. And demi-sexual, which after Cord I didn't think I'd get into again. This feels different, but.. Yeah.. We'll see.

From now on named Novice, they've since read my ENTIRE blog. Yes, all of it. All however-many-hundreds of posts there are. And they're currently scrolling through a second time. I'm grateful for the devotion, absolutely, but also a bit freaked out by the amount of dedication. I worry they'll get way, way too hung up on someone they's only played with once. We plan on meeting up again in a couple of weeks, but I'm really uncertain at this point what will happen after that. 

I really like the person, we have a lot in common, but yeah.. I worry I'll hurt them. 

Also, I don't have time or energy for a third romantic partner, I KNOW that will go to hell really, really quickly. I've tried that... How many times now? Three? Four? It doesn't work out. And yet, I fall SO fast for people.. Especially people like them. So.. Yeah. 

Its not just their feelings that worry me. 

On the other hand, they clearly see me as a woman. Or at least woman-adjacent enough that it makes no difference to them. They're really respectful about pronouns, tries to educate themself on trans issues and is really making the best possible, conscious effort.. But they're also been clear that they don't know if they'll still be interested in me when I grow more masculine. Which is totally fair, and I'm glad they're honest about it. However that doesn't change the fact that being unconsciously misgendered, which ABSOLUTELY isn't done on purpose, still hurts. 

So yeah, I don't know where we're headed. But hopefully, we can have some more fun along the way.

Damn, this post was actually supposed to be about something completely different, but this intro got too long. Will need to split this off into a separate post. Keep reading. 

Lost a fetish?

I've always had a great fascination with dicks. My love for giving blow-jobs has been legendary. I've said repeatedly that I don't do it for them, I do it for me. The scent, the texture, the taste, the changes in length, girth and flavor, the sounds, the motions, it's all something I've adored. I've lauded the virtues of cock sucking on this blog repeatedly. It's practically been a fetish for me, if such a "normal" sex act can even be called a fetish. 

However, something has happened... 

I still LIKE it. I mean, there's absolutely nothing wrong with going down on someone. I enjoy giving pleasure, and I think I'm fairly good at it.. However, I've lost that overwhelming URGE to suck dick. That need for it. I've basically lost the fetish, and it's reverted to just a regular sexual act among many others. Being buried between someone's legs for a whole hour doesn't tempt me as much anymore. Might even get boring, eventually!  

I think I first started noticing it this summer, though it's been a gradual thing. Looking back through the blog, I haven't talked in enthusiastic terms about sucking OTHER people's dicks at any point in 2022. What I have lauded, though... Is getting my own dick sucked. 

That's the clincher: I suspect it never was about giving blow jobs. Like everything these days, it's about gender. My gender, not their's. My dick, not their's.

My overwhelming enthusiasm for GIVING blow jobs, may just have been a substitute for my hidden desire to RECEIVE them. And now that I occasionally do receive blow jobs, and perhaps more importantly can fondle and jerk off my own dick(s) whenever I feel like it.. The fetish seems to have disappeared. 

It actually makes me a bit sad. My love for blow jobs was such a fundamental part of my sex life. I really hope it comes back, at least partially. I miss it.