My new blog

Hi peeps!

I just wanted to let you know that I’m focusing my efforts now on my new blog:  Blooming Time. The focus there is on my gender transition.

I’m adding once a week or so there. I just posted yesterday! It even talks about genitals. But not chastity or other wildly kinky stuff like I’ve shared here. That stuff will stay in this blog.

Blooming Time goes back to very early in my transgender journey. Don’t mind the hole from Aug 2012 to Aug 2013, I’ll be filling that soon.

I’ll probably pop in to check on this blog from time to time. So feel free to comment!

And if I have a really hot scene (like that breast whipping my wife keeps talking about), this is the place where I’d post about that.

I suspect that chastity, per se, won’t be part of my marriage for at least a year. But my wife does occasionally talk about what it’s going to take to lock my labia closed (after the sex-change surgery). Even then — can I be a “Locked Hubby” when even my gynecologist thinks I’m female? Can I be a “hubby” on the basis of an “invisible” Y chromosome? What do you think?

Thanks for reading!

 

Happy in heels

Things are still going well! I love being in the world as a woman now, instead of as a man. And unlike most married couples to find themselves wrestling with this issue (one partner being transexual), we are still going strong together. I think being openminded kinksters really helps.

I’m still eating out of my dog dishes, sometime 3 times a day. It’s so automatic now. My latest need for punishment has related to being tardy. My wife/mistress does not appreciate departing to an event with me when we are behind schedule. The last time we were 3 minutes late to meet some friends for dinner, she tacked on a penalty 5 minutes because I hurried through a yellow light (her opinion was that I ran a red light). That turned into a paddling with her favorite thick leather paddle, non-stop for the full eight minutes.

And she still has her appreciation for men of color. She rarely misses an opportunity to notice or comment on them, or even flirt with them. Humiliating me remains another past-time, making comments about my sexual inadequacy over the years as a man, and how my penis will be so much better off as a vagina anyway. There is little need for male chastity devices any more, as the female hormones have left tiny barely functional in that regard.

I can’t remember the last time she permitted me an orgasm. Several times per month, though, she instructs me to orally pleasure her, which I happily do. We both really enjoy that, and as a bonus she gets to ignore how horny it leaves me.

Our relationship is doing amazingly well, considering all we’ve been through lately. In many ways we feel closer than ever. And I’m extremely grateful for that. The next (and perhaps final) challenge for us will be the Gender Confirming Surgery (also known as SRS or GRS). She’s worried about infections and other problems. I’m still very excited to have my body fully reflect how I see myself now in the world – as a woman.

As time goes on, I’m less and less comfortable with my male genitals. They are inconvenient, as I cannot dress how I want sometimes. They are annoying, since tucking them snugly so they don’t bulge obviously under my clothes is a hassle. They hurt sometimes, as the atrophy fights with the occasional erection attempt. And mostly they no longer feel appropriate at all. I was in the shower with my wife, feeling horny, and instead of being able to rub my pussy against her thigh this damn semi-flaccid hunk of skin was flopping around. It honestly felt very wrong.

Electrolysis is a pain in the ass. I just completed my 7th trip to Dallas TX where they again removed all the active-growth hairs from my face. Eleven hours of technician time zapping and pulling those hairs one-by-one. Don’t mind the anesthetic injections — by needle into the face. Yeah, it really sucks. But most transitioning friends I know do it locally, without anesthetic, a half-hour or hour at a time. Which reminds me, I have to start that process in my genital area. It’s a strong recommendation prior to surgery down there. Apparently it’s quite painful too. So of course my wife wants to be with me during those procedures.

On the up side, I wore the cutest outfit to work yesterday! And heels, which I love. Actually, I only meant to do a brief post, as I need to be getting ready for work. Dress, jewelry, makeup, hair, and out the door.

Transition Update

Life has been so busy!  I am continuing with my gender transition.  I’m working with some of the best professionals in my state, which rocks.  8 months now on female hormones, and I definitely have some cute breasts.  My wife loves to tease me about how much larger my ass is (yet she says she loves my “girl butt”).  I have filed paperwork to legally change my name, and have started talking to gender reassignment surgeons.

This week I’m going to talk to HR at my workplace to set plans in motion to transition on-the-job.  One day I will simply start as a female.  Yes, really.  I’ve learned my employer has recently gone through this with someone else already, which is heartening.  I’ve been living as a female for many months now everywhere in my life except at work.  It’s time to come out there and go “full-time”.

I received a comment or email from a reader who wondered if becoming a transexual was a natural or common eventuality for a feminized husband in chastity.  My short answer: no.  It’s a great fantasy, and I’ve loved the stories I’ve read on-line over the years.  But the reality of changing your gender for real in this society is very different.  I’m sure there is the occasional “forced” situation, but I estimate that’s far less than 1% in real life.  What you don’t realize is that there are plenty of transitioning people all around you.  Some estimates as low as 1 in 200.  Of course that includes the entire transgender umbrella, not just transexuals.

Some of the women you know might have been born male.  That’s just reality.  But please don’t ask them.  Think about it — a genetic female will likely be very offended that you thought they were born male; quite a buzz-kill on a date.  Like me, most transexuals want to transition and live the rest of their life as peacefully as possible.  I just want to be in the world now as a woman.  Eventually I will legally be female.  And my wife and I will simply want to get on with the rest of our (lesbian) lives.

Some aspects of my situation were not really that unusual:  a lifetime of private activities exploring my female side (crossdressing, reading TS stories, playing with makeup, wishing I was female); deciding to explore it more seriously after getting heterosexually married.  One aspect of my situation is very unusual:  my wife and I plan to stay together.  The harsh reality is that most relationships cannot survive one spouse changing their gender — I think the partnership failure rate is over 90%.  The suicide rate for transgender people is also very high (over 30%) — I’m fortunate to be a survivor, in fact.

But back to the question.  It very well could be that a husband willing to be feminized and put into chastity does have some latent gender identity issues.  But they may not be as serious as full-out transexuality.  There is nothing wrong with loving to crossdress (I did it for decades), and for many it ends there.  Other have a stronger pull away from their genetic gender, but life circumstances prevent them from acting on them (I was also there for decades).  A full transition is not cheap — at least $30,000 start to finish.  If you are interested in more details of transitioning, let me know.  I don’t want to bore my readers!

Let’s revisit my dog dish (see prior post).  I haven’t messed up once!  But I will relay one story.  My wife’s sister moved to our city about a year ago, and she comes over sometimes to chat or eat — or the three of us girls go shopping!  One day she was over and she brought her two little dogs.  I came home from work and saw my dog dish on the floor, and her dogs were eating out of them.  I didn’t know if my wife had told her or not.  And I didn’t dare ask.  But it was clear that my wife noticed me noticing, and she really got off on the humiliation that it provided.

I’ll end on a chastity development.  Today I’ll be removing my PA piercing.  That’s a major deal for me.  I’d wanted that ring in my cock for so very long, and it meant so much when my wife decided to have it installed.  But gender surgeons apparently recommend letting that hole in my penis heal.  I guess it makes sense, since they will be turning tiny inside-out when they surgically transform my male genitals into a vagina and labia.  It’s amazing what they can do today (google for “SRS photos”).

But removing my PA ring signals the end of an era.  No more chastity.  Having my cock locked up was such a focus and big deal to me.  And I’m feeling some loss about that.  Mistress still dominates me, of course.  But not with forced orgasm denial.  She’s threatened a female chastity device, but those always come with a waist belt, and she has never been ok with those.

At some point I’m going to sell my whole high-security chastity setup:  lock, JailBird cage, bio-safe, etc.  If you want to be notified, drop me an email or blog comment.  That will be a sad day too for me.  On the other hand, it truly does feel awesome in so many ways, to finally become the woman that I’ve dreamed of being — and to have my Mistress/wife with me on the journey!  Heaven!

Cooked Bool Tincture

I wrote Mistress yesterday, confessing a concern/desire I’ve been thinking about:  CBT.

Potentially I won’t even have my cock and balls in as few as 15 month (after surgery to become a female). And as a male submissive, CBT is a pretty typical thing to experience. I realized that I haven’t experienced much along those lines though. And time is, literally, running out.

So I wrote Mistress an email about this, how I felt, and that I wanted to simply leave the issue in her hands. What she does when, if anything, how intense, etc, is all (of course) completely up to her.

Well, this weekend is one of our BDSM play parties. She told me today she’s already talked with a friend to help her with a scene she has planned for me. This friend is very much into pain herself, and is well versed in kinky things of all kinds. I’m a bit frightened to consider that I might just get what I’ve asked for.

Then again, Mistress may have something entirely different in mind. I won’t know. One thing I do know that she has planned is for me to come out as a transsexual to our friends at the party. I’m not worried about that at all, there are lots of transgendered folks in our kink community.

I only asked for one thing specifically: a butterfly board experience. The link is not for the squeamish. Of course if/when that happens is up to her.

We’ll see what she has in mind for me tomorrow night…

Morphing Normality

It’s been 12 days so far in chastity this time, and to be honest, I’ve hardly noticed. It’s just the way things are now.

Sitting to pee is just second nature, I hardly think about it. About the only time it registers is around showering. And even then it’s just procedural: wash it, dry it, put a little lube around the base ring.

You’d think having a tight stainless steel locked to your penis would be a bigger deal.

We’ve had the JailBird for almost 4 months now, and I’ve worn it at least 95% of that time. Male orgasms appear to be a thing of the past now. They are simply not interesting to her at all any more. I don’t even find I crave them that much, although I suppose I could easily fall back into the masturbation habit. I don’t want to, though.

Now that I’ve experienced (what seems to be) female orgasms, there’s just no comparison. The last time we did that, tiny (her name for my cock) was only a little bit hard, barely at all. Mistress stimulated my nipples, touched and rubbed me elsewhere on my upper body, and guided me with her words to relax into building wave after wave of sensation. Eventually  I went over the threshold into this extremely blissful state, with my whole body participating in the sensory experience. It’s hard to describe, but oh so wonderful.

Mistress prefers me to have these “girlgasms” because I don’t get all cranky and grumpy afterwards. Right after, all I want to do is get close to her — even cuddling right next to her doesn’t feel close enough. I just crave feeling her next to me. The next few days I’m extra attentive and loving to her, so appreciative and present. I think we both prefer it this way.

And this works out pretty well with the whole sex-change business. I’m feeling impatient lately. I want to get on with this Becoming a Woman thing. I mentally put myself in that role walking around work every day. Even though am not ready to approach them yet to discuss it, part of me is so ready to come out — all the way out.

Over a dozen friends now know. And in about a month I will be coming out to my “church” community, fully transitioning there so that I can dress as my new female self every Sunday at services and during my other involvements there.

I literally have a closet full of clothes now. Probably enough presentable and normal female clothing for 1-2 weeks at work. I need more shoes though (what girl doesn’t?!). And Mistress has decided that I’ll be having a second pair of ear piercings so I can wear 4 earrings at a time (like her).

Friday I’ll be talking with my gender therapist about next steps to start hormones. We’ll also go over a rough timeline. Bring it on! Let’s get this thing rolling, I’m feeling so ready to make more progress.

Screwups

I blew my change to be released from chastity for an orgasm yesterday. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Saturday morning we woke up and were laying in bed chatting. My wife/Mistress/keyholder told me she’d like to unlock me to ensure that tiny (her name for my cock) “gets a good bath”. By this she means a good (usually harsh) scrubbing.

The prior evening we had watched Margaret Cho’s “Beautiful” comedy stand-up performance (excerpt here).  Margaret is awesome, we love her (but Cho newbies may want to check out her previous tours first). Anyway, part of her act was going off about stinky dick. So I jumped to the conclusion that my wife was concerned about that with me. Certainly that was true with the CB-3000, but I can keep the JailBird nice and clean. In addition, putting the PA lock back on is a bit of a hassle.

So, keeping my defensiveness in check, I commented back to my wife that I am very able to keep it clean, and that “a bath for tiny” really isn’t necessary. She dropped it for a short while, then brought it up again. And again I said we didn’t need to do that. You can probably guess what she said next. I didn’t see it coming – go ahead, call me an idiot.

“Well, I was going to release you today and let you have an orgasm. My plan was to get into the shower with you and let you soap up my naked body. Then I was going to wash tiny until he squirted. But twice now you argued with me about unlocking you, so you can just forget about it now.”

Fuck!  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I didn’t say that, but I thought it really loud. What a dunce.

And that was that. It’s Sunday afternoon now, and she’s not said another word about it. But that wasn’t my only screwup that day. Oh no.

In my last post I mentioned that I wanted to offer my newly hairless body to Mistress this weekend in a special way. She approved a “surprise” scene for Saturday afternoon. When the time came, I gave her a note and asked her to give me 1/2 hour to get set up, then she could come up to the bedroom.

The note outlined that I would be tied to the bed and gagged, naked (but in chastity of course). My cage would be covered to hide my useless genitals, but in a way she could rub herself on it for her pleasure if she wanted to. The rest of my body was slick with massage oil, and the note suggested she could feel free to arouse herself by rubbing her body on mine. I thought she’d enjoy a bondage/lesbian/sensually erotic scene.

Wrong.

She came into the bedroom as I was finishing up with the wrist cuffs. She said “Here, let me help” and she tightened them both and locked them to the corner bed restraints. Her enthusiasm at securing me surprised me. My ankles were already tied out. I had a ball gag in and she tightened the blindfold. “Comfy?” she asked rhetorically. I nodded. Then she left, going downstairs to her office for what I estimated was about 1/2 hour.

At this point I had no idea what was going on. I laid there bound, gagged and naked, unable to do anything but await her return. Part of me wondered if this was a way for her to reinforce the objectification – leaving me as a toy to be used if and when she wanted. Another part of me was worried that I had messed up.

When she eventually returned, I got my answer. “So, according to your note, you had a particular scene in mind, right?” I nodded weakly, concerned about where this was headed. “Well, what if I’m not interested in that? And by the way: I’m not. So let’s review your note.” She read the note to me, word for word. “It’s good you put the part in about me doing whatever I want to you, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

With that she sat on the bed next to me. The next 10 minutes were torture, consisting of her flicking my nipples painfully and tickling me relentlessly. I was yelling and begging for her to stop, thrashing around in my 4-point restraint. After that she took our leather paddle and reddened the inside of my thighs. Then some more tickling and belly-button stimulation which I also greatly dislike.

She tortured me as I yelled and thrashed, and I heard her laughing. Yes, she was really, truly enjoying the hell out of this. I was in tears from the torment. She said “You know I’m a sadist, right?” I nodded, as we both know that’s one of the reasons I wanted to marry her. She continued this torture for a little while longer.

But I wasn’t prepared for the next part. Behind the blindfold my eyes went wide as she asked “Where are my needles?” OMG. Just after New Years I gave her a present: scores of new hypodermic and acupuncture needles, along with alcohol wipes (this post). Through the ball gag I directed her to a dresser drawer. I could tell from her voice that she was serious.

I felt her rub a wipe on some skin on my leg, and then heard her opening one of the needle packages. “I haven’t had a chance to use these yet. And you said I can do what I want, didn’t you?” All I could do was whimper, torn between not wanting to be her pin cushion and wanting so much to sincerely please her.

“Stay still, don’t move,” she said. I felt her pinch the skin on my leg. I braced myself. I really hate needles, and she knows this. I felt the needle enter my skin as she pushed it through, and I bit hard into the rubber gag as I screamed. “That’s one,” she said, “I think we’ll start with five.” My whimpering protests were unintelligible through the gag.

I bit down hard as she swabbed, pinched and poked me four more times. Then she sat back and caressed around the areas. “Don’t thrash around now, we don’t want one of those needles poking into your testicles now, do we?” In my mind I saw a needle dangerously close to my tight scrotum poking through my chastity cage. Must … be …. still.

Seeing my blindfold had slipped, she adjusted it back into position and said “Keep this in place. If it moves again, that will be five more needles.” Ok, I think I can do that.

“Now I’m horny,” she said, and she climbed on top of me, still fully clothed. “Do not move around, I don’t want any of those needles poking me. Understand?” I nodded, truly scared for me and for her. She ground her crotch against my chest and worked herself up to an orgasm. In doing so, her chest was in my face and it moved the blindfold.

As she carefully got off of me, she noticed the blindfold was out of place again. “What did I tell you?! That means five more needles.” I whimpered and whined and begged. “Do you want more than five?” That shut me up, briefly anyway.

I felt more alcohol swabbing, followed by more skin pinching and poking. My teeth dug into the gag each time as I screamed during and cried afterwards. After the last one she laid down next to me and caressed my face, feeling my tears. I panted and calmed down, feeling very loved by her attention and grateful that the torture seemed over.

“Would you like to see?” she asked? “I’ll release one hand and you can get the rest.” She did so, and soon I sat up and removed the blindfold. I expected to see ten needles still in me. But there were none. There was just one place where two little blood spots indicated where one needle had been. Nine of the “needles” were mindfucks. I cried.

I unfastened my ankles and she covered me with a soft throw. We cuddled together, and I sobbed with my head on her chest and in her arms. I really am needlephobic, and this was an intense scene for me. Her aftercare was perfect, and eventually I settled down. We talked and processed things, we both learned some things about the other, and our intimacy deepened once again.

Overall it was an incredible scene. But she made clear that she wants to be in charge of them. Me defining the scene was not a good move on my part. I thought I was offering something new to her, but I see her point now and my error. In my quest to make her happy, I can do better.

Twice yesterday she sent me out crossdressed for errands. One to pick up dinner, and later to pick up a DVD. Today she send me out grocery shopping for ingredients for a new recipe she wanted to try. And yesterday as usual I was in my housekeeping dress for several hours cleaning floors, vacuuming, doing dishes, and other chores at home.

We have a local kink/BDSM party coming up in 2 weeks. Last time she put me and my newly received Prince Albert piercing on display (prior post here). I’m wondering if she will keep me chaste until then. That would be a full month. I’ve daydreamed about being milked at the party. I fully expect to be displayed again so people can see my cage and PA-lock.

But after this weekend I’ve learned my lesson about suggesting scenes or activities. The moral of this story? Mistress is in charge.

Ignorable

Mistress is completely ignoring tiny (her name for my cock). She’s more interested lately in punishing me and letting me pamper her.

Yesterday she found another reason for a serious ass-paddling session. It was a financial mixup on my part, actually a potentially major issue. Everything was fine, but it might have been a disaster. She was not happy that I had slipped up on this vital detail.

When I got home from work she told me to set out her spanking implements in our bedroom and wait for her. I arranged the paddles, canes, crops, and other items for her convenience. She arrived and simply pointed me towards our bed. I lowered my pants, laid on the bed, and waited for her to get to business.

She asked me to explain why I needed to be punished. I told her, and she repeated some things back to me, reinforcing her points with hard swats to my bare bottom. I thought ahead enough this time to position a pillow so I could yell, scream and cry into it and not bother her so much with my wussy noises. It was a good thing, because this session was a little more intense than the last one.

This was my second ass beating this week, and she made it clear that she expects better from me. This session included ten hard swats with her favorite cane, which burned terribly. I think she used each implement for at least ten impacts. Afterwards she applied the icy/hot cream to my red ass herself. This increased the residual pain, and also left me smelling rather minty for hours.

Then she put a medium butt-plug in me. That might not have been so bad, but we had a meeting to attend. Between the meeting and driving, I spent over 2 hours sitting, pushing the plug uncomfortably deep, and squirming to find a comfortable sitting position. She was please to be able to torture me so effortlessly, and in public. The lube left my ass squishing as I walked, which felt humiliating.  After 4 hours she allowed me to remove it.

At bedtime she had me rub lotion into her beautiful legs. I wasn’t allowed above her calf, as this was service, not sexual. Most every night I provide her a back rub to help her get to sleep. She loves foot rubs too. I hope someday soon she allows me to give her some sexual pleasure, but I know that she will tell me when she wants it, and I am not to beg.

Apparently I didn’t tighten the security screw enough when I put the JailBird together a few days ago. Today I noticed the screw had loosened. It’s not a major problem, as the cage stays together just fine even if the screw is loose. I just don’t want to lose it. It came with one spare security screw, but I don’t want to end up having to buy more screws. So tonight I’ll ask her to open the safe so I can use the keys to tighten it well.

Even if the screw came out, all that would happen is that the cage would separate from the base ring. I still can’t escape from the cage. The lock through my PA piercing keeps the end of my cock secured to the far end of the cage. So I can’t pull out, and I would still have no meaningful access to tiny.

I had some concerns that the larger base ring might change the wearability of the JailBird somehow. It certainly is looser at the base, but it’s not a problem at all. It’s still snug enough to support the weight of the cage. And as mentioned above, I can’t pull out anyway. Heck, the whole thing could slide down and the end of my cock would still be locked to the far end of the cage. The resizing was all about increasing the comfort for 24/7 use. That aspect appears to have been a complete success.

I had some suspicions that a guy at work might also be in chastity. I’d noticed him use a stall to urinate once or twice when urinals were available. But this week I observed him using a urinal, so probably not. I guess I used to stand once in a while when I was wearing my CB-3000. So I suppose anyone could possibly be locked up, and I’d be hard pressed to know.

Ok, I have a challenge for my readers. I’ve been thinking about ball-trap chastity devices, and I know that when I’m flaccid I could pull out the back of any of them. And it’s my theory and assertion that anyone could escape that way. Cocks can shrink up quite a bit, and I just don’t see how the geometry of these ball-trap units could maintain security.

So my challenge is this: has anyone seen a video demonstrating how a seriously flaccid cock could not escape from a ball-trap chastity device? If so, please post the link as a comment. I’ve read reports of some people claiming they can’t pull out of a CB-X000 device. But honestly, I don’t believe it. It’s my assertion that such devices, by themselves, cannot be considered secure. A guy can claim it, but a guy can lie.

Even my own JailBird, by itself, wouldn’t even come close to keeping me secure. Without the PA lock, my flaccid dick could easily slip out the back. Can anyone provide some video evidence that some men find these ball-trap devices to offer reasonable security? I suspect not.

I understand very well that not everyone wants or needs 100% secure chastity. It can be difficult and expensive to get to that point. Some people are really good with the honor system. But relying on that doesn’t really require a chastity device then, does it? My point here isn’t to make anyone feel bad – your kink is ok. My point is more for keyholders, to clarify the reality (as I see it).

I could easily have been cheating daily when I was wearing my CB-2000 and CB-3000. I didn’t, but my point is that I could have, and some men might very well do so and insist that it’s so secure they can’t.

I can also see the value in having a less severe way to transition from no chastity into some chastity. Maybe some folks aren’t ready for the real thing. I’ve never been there, if I could have gone straight into 100% secure lockup from the beginning, I’m sure I would have. The problem then was the cost. Today I’m pretty happy to have full security for under $500 (cage + PA lock).

I’d love to hear your comments about my rambling on chastity security. And please post video links if you know of any demonstrating ball-trap device security. Thanks.

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