My femmecock

As I walk through the streets of the Old City in Stockholm I smile. It’s easy to walk like this, at least once a year I am not scared. I am happy, bubbly and a bit turned on. After all, a beautiful friend of mine is walking next to me, dressed from head to toe in latex and I can hear it. Hear it, smell it, see it, her moving in that material. And so can everyone else passing us in the streets, as we walk hand in hand together to a party that will blow our minds.

But I don’t do latex tonight. I do leather and silicone. Leatherstraps around  my hips and a silicone dildo. My femme cock. My darling cock, resting close against my body, tucked away to not give to much away. A full erection in broad daylight is not hot nor will it give the effect that I want. This is my first night packing in public. How come it feels so good? Because it does… Why would it not?

The first time I had it on in public was a limited set of time, at the club Pedestal. It was an amazing evening, and I think back on  how it felt to fuck his mouth with it, to have a fuckface like that and use it, and how well it went that evening, sitting in that soft couch. Although a different orgasm, I smeared the cum in his face, told him to clean up and almost passed out while putting away the extra piece of flesh I have found between my leg. It’s silicone and it’s me. This is a body of experience. A body that matters.

I’ve always known that there is something more to my body, something that is hard to reach, almost impossible to touch. An ache and a need to feel something, just something has been a reoccurring longing for much all my life, although that need is getting more and more fulfilled.
And then, there was the glorious world of BDSM. Of playing with power and pain, of experiencing progress, of finding parts of myself that I did not know what they were only that they were missing.
It was in the realm of ageplay that I could first access my trans-gendered identity.
I could not become daddy’s lil’ girl because I aint no girl, I never managed to play the girl when being young. Smelling of stable, being loud but in the same time love reading and having opinions was not how a girl was supposed to be, and later on, in my teens, it was hard for me as well to be able to adapt to the role of the teen girl. It took me many years before I felt femininity was accessible to me, and that was when I understood that I could create it as I wished it to be. As so many other femmes before me has said, it’s a drag, and everyone is getting the price for the best costume.
So, yeah, as a young woman I feel that I can access femininity without losing a sense of self, but trying to act the girl in age-play scenarios was just plain wrong. After less than a day’s thinking me and daddy changed the direction, and suddenly I became his boi. And the doors flew open. How easy it was to unlock something that has never ever been accessed before. I felt a sense of belonging as well as a sense of being able to be really small, a pre-teen boi that daddy teaches many things.
It did not even need to be sexual. At one point I returned from a particularly exhausting workshop, that was draining because I felt partly out of place but also because it contained a lot of introspection, I collapsed into daddies arms, him stroking my hair, protecting me from all the arm in the world.

Other times it was just hot, feeling daddy’s hands all over me, like feeling someone touching you for the first time, in a headspace that is so forbidden It was also the first time someone handled my clit like a cock. Fingering it, wanking it, sucking it like the cock that it is.

And believe it or not, through that boi that lives so strongly within me, I also have found a girl. Or maybe more of a grrl. She is fierce, and I think quite dangerous if she is let loose. Because behind those blue eyes there is a girl who likes to see daddy in pain.

What has this to do with my femmecock then, you might ask.  I think you know where I am going with this.  But before I’ll go there, I just want to give you this beautiful song with Devendra Banhart.  It sums up the ageplay that I love to do and long to get back doing when returning to London in less than 3 weeks.

So, there, back to my femmecock. My femmecock is an integral part of me, something I realized when the dear Miss Jet Moon spoke about hers in a one her many fabulous shows.
It’s my flesh, it’s the silicone that is strapped to the leather, it is the nerves, the sensitivity. It is the fun moments, it is the frightening moments.
Like the project of fucking someone in the arse with it for the first time. It was not frightening (or well, not for me *giggle*), it was hilarious. I now understand what many men go through, and thoroughly agree with the statement that everyone who wants to penetrate should develop mirrors on the inside of the legs similar to mirrors on the sides on the car, just to easier guide the penetrational object.  But with a bit of practice, patience and lube, and of course being stubborn as fuck, it worked out somewhat.

And what about the night I was talking about in the beginning? How was the first ‘strapping in public’? Frigging amazing. I could not help touching my ‘package’ every now and then, I know, as cliché as it may sounds. But I was nervous. The girl who I hooked up with in the beginning of the evening was kind enough to embrace me, and the whole of me, and there is something with big eyes watching you while you fuck someone’s mouth.
So why femmecock? Why not just cock? Or even strap-on dildo? Because it is a part of a performance that I do. Performing all of these things is a way for me to reclaim whatever I feel might have been lost. My expressions of femininity is not something that is cut to fit a square, it’s like giant blob that can take every form, except the one that is a static, immovable one. I don’t want my femmecock to feel any boundaries, I don’t want to limit my body, I don’t want to limit the expressions of my body., no brain of mine is going to be limited and in all that, my cock is entwined with the notion of possibilities and responsibilities.

And that matters.


2 responses to “My femmecock

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