harsh mistress

At the times in my life when I tried living full time and seriously considered transitioning it was my impending poverty - and the way that plays you into the hands of the disgusting institutional benefit and health system - that really decided me against it. Yes, I'm a terrible coward but I also know I need to certain level of control over my own destiny. I refuse to be defined and deliniated by uncomprehending idiots!

One T-friend suggested I join her in the sex industry, offering to help me get set up as - believe it!!! - a dominatrix. It was all a bit seedy for me, I must admit but also I thought: 'Gosh, how could I do the dom when I hate hurting anything. Even little baby houseflies?'

I realise now that this sensitivity would have qualified me perfectly for the job. They would never admit it in a zillion quintillion years but there is nothing your average 'straight' man-thing would enjoy more than being chained up and thrashed silly by a dominatrix who whispers with breathy conviction, 'This is hurting me a lot more than it's hurting you'. And the icing on the cake is when you slip those black panties down a notch to reveal that little twiglet you keep tucked between your legs. That's when their eyes pop.. as you reach once again for the punishing cane.. eeeeeeek!!!