Gender fluid

April 22, 2017

‘Eres hombre o mujer…’

Ah, Barcelona and that sixty-four million dollar question. Man or woman. Which was I?

Peedeel had become Navina that evening – for the sake of the party, you understand? Attendance was by invitation only. And our invitation was dependant on Peedeel arriving as beautiful Navina. He, or rather she, accompanied by Dee and Gabriella, attracted the attention of two young men. Darkly handsome young men.

‘Eres hombre o mujer…?’ They asked; their smiles could melt ice, I thought.

Well, if you haven’t spent your life living under a rock, you’ll know there are obvious ways to tell. And these boys guided me to a room where they could investigate further.

I will resist the urge to recount the sordid details of our ultimate coupling. But I do recall thirty seconds before I climaxed with them, it felt as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room; every nerve ending in my body tingled, I couldn’t move, time stopped. Then the involuntary spasm, the explosion. I recall especially feeling the sensation inside my bones, my jawbone in particular, vibrating through every nerve in waves; muscles clenching on their own, rhythmically, tension releasing spasmodically in those sharp, familiar little jerks of my cock.

Man or woman?

Why, chameleon, of course.

Soy un camaleón.


“I was having a few girlfriends over for some wine and cheese. About two hours before they were supposed to arrive, I got Rob quite ‘excited’ and I lured him towards the bedroom. I quickly got him naked and blindfolded and the next thing he heard were the magic words “lift your right foot up”, followed by “lift your left foot up”. I knew the blindfold would keep him from resisting and he was too excited to object as I slid a pair of red lacy satin panties up his legs. I gave him a few good rubs over his now hard member and grabbed my phone. A few camera clicks later and I now had several photos of a confused and vulnerable man in silk panties…”

Satin Submissions

Feminization Friday

January 22, 2016

“I know it’s a lot to take in. Of course, it’s much easier to accomplish if you have a submissive man to begin with, but even the more macho males will be taken down a few notches once they are wearing soft frilly panties under their jeans…”

Satin submissions

“”We can go shopping together and you can spend as much as you like on sexy lingerie and little outfits. You’re going to be such a pretty gurl now…”

Ms Sherborne


“No, please…I’m male, not female. Oh God, please don’t…”

Matilda Murdoch
Wife’s little Sissy: forced feminization for her new hubbyFriday_forced_fem4

“You’re a girl now sweetheart, you’re a girl now,” her voice in his ear. And soon waves of pleasure shook through his body and he could no longer hold back. Lightly touching himself through his silken panties, he had a tremendous orgasm…

Taboo Tales: Colin to Collette
Olivia Heart

“I knew from the moment we first met,” she said. “You were a guy who craved to be a gurl. You were in denial, but you needed frills and lace and greedy cock…”

Thomas Lynn
The Wife’s Underwear – a true confession

“You’ll learn. You’re going to be my bitch. I’ll dress you up in my underwear and clothes, and give you false breasts so you can act all pretty and sexy. I get off on that. I get off on the thought that you’re my little sissy bitch and men will come here and have you like a whore and you’ll just take it. Because that’s what I tell you to do. That’s what your mistress wants…”

Sadie Sue
Training your Sissy



We met them, the Tees, at a local BDSM munch about two years ago. The wife, Kay, described herself as “Hetroflexible” and has “played” with submission for years. She’s 100% submissive, a masochist, voyeur (loves watching hubby in bondage), exhibitionist (likes an audience when she’s being used) and slut-slave.

Her hubby, James, entered the BDSM scene in his early twenties. He was invited with his girlfriend of the day to a “party” while in Las Salinas Beach, Ibiza. The party turned out to be a full-on fetish orgy and James thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He took to the scene like a clit to a vibrator.

Jimmy has a passion for rope play, he’s a good-looking switch, by nature dominant, a bondage giver, but happy to submit and have his backside spanked to a glowing red by the right person.

Both Kay and Jimmy describe themselves as “being in tune with nature”; she’s into crystals and healing, and James loves yoga and meditation. They both like walking, the great outdoors, reading, photography, astrology, music, gardening and spirituality.

We’ve enacted scenes with them on four of five occasions. Kay, submissive, is restrained and “chastised” by Dee and by me while Jimmy watches. Then he in turn plays the Sub to Dee’s Dom. As with very many BDSM get-togethers there is no sexual intercourse. There is, of course, aftercare: comforting and reassuring; the Sub’s been placed in a very vulnerable physical and emotional state, after all said and done, and needs some degree of aftercare in order to properly process and come down from the event. In fact bondage without aftercare is abuse, pure and simple, in my opinion.

Anyway. Yesterday, Saturday, the Tees arrived in the afternoon, and were duly greeted at the front door by Dee and Gabriela. Cheeks were kissed, embraces exchanged, before the girls led them inside.

In the sitting room, I waited en femme as Navina, sex goddess extraordinaire, at times mildly submissive and into light bondage, but much happier in “domme mode”, twisting men around her/my little finger, teasing and denying their hard bodies. Making them beg.

Kay’s mouth dropped open at sight of me, Navina. ‘That’s incredible…’ she said. Shaking her head, she shrugged. ‘I’d never have recognised you. You’re beautiful!’

Jimmy was speechless. His eyes were eating me up. Drinks were offered and accepted. We exchanged small talk. Finally Dee said, ‘Would you like to see upstairs,’ to Kay, who nodded and stood up beside Gabby.

Soon Jimmy and I would be alone. Upstairs, I knew, it was Dee and Gabby’s plan to give Kay an extended and intense spanking/caning, taking her close – very close – to the edge of her limits, and from that wonderful, swimmy-headed place begin lovemaking with her.

After their departure I fixed Jimmy another drink. He kept looking at my high heels and stockings. I sat down in my black dress, letting the hem ride up and give him a quick flash of thigh and white lace. He is obviously fascinated by Navina, enamored and infatuated to the point of awkwardness.

‘I’m in to cling film,’ I said softly. ‘Clothespins, handcuffs, cockplay and mutual masturbation. What about you? Would you like me to bruise you a little? ’

From upstairs, a shrill cry: the sound of a strap impacting on rounded flesh. My girls are wasting no time. Jimmy’s petite, submissive lady has embarked on her delicious pleasure journey.

‘Have you ever fucked a Goddess?’ I asked him, without waiting for his reply to my previous questions. The ice rattled in my glass as I crossed my legs. His eyes went to my stocking tops. ‘It happens, you know. It’s quite common in fact. In hypnagogic and dream magic. You actually get to fuck deities – happens all the time in tantric visualisation meditation. It’s actively sort in Chaos Magick…’

‘I’ve heard of sexual encounters with deities in dreams or in astral travel. But they don’t have a physical component,’ he said, hesitantly.

More cries of pain from upstairs. The sounds of flogging, merciless. Distracting.

I licked my lips. ‘D’you like my lipstick?’ I asked. ‘It’s lipstick queen, and the colour’s called “bare nude.” I got it specially for today.’


‘A physical component is important in sex with a God or Goddess, but not essential,’ I said quickly. ‘Even alone, you can hold the image of the God or Goddess in your head, masturbate in offering to them, experience intense pleasure in their name. With time and practice – or immediately if you are really one of the lucky ones – you feel that someone else, the God / Goddess is stimulating your body…’

Kay’s shrill voice begging for mercy upstairs. The sound of flogging continued. But more intense, now.

Jimmy’s cheeks were flushed scarlet. His glance went from my crossed legs to the ceiling then back again. I sipped my drink.

‘The coolest thing about sex with spirit beings is it’s not limited by the constraints of physicality. It is possible to experience interpenetration and prolonged ecstasy with all parts of your body/mind/spirit…In all sex magick it’s the energy between those involved that makes the difference. With the right chemistry, you can move mountains!’

‘I see,’ he said. He put his empty glass on the coffee table, distracted.

‘Would you like another?’


I crossed the room to fix fresh drinks, the thrust of my hips provocative. I knew his eyes would be on my tight backside.

‘Do you like pussy worship?’ I asked over my shoulder.


‘Would you like to worship my pussy?’

‘I would.’

I smiled.

‘You are beautiful,’ he said quickly. ‘Kay was right. It’s an incredible transformation. You look like a Goddess…’

‘A Goddess?’ I handed him his drink. ‘You should make an offering to me then.’

‘What would you like?’

Upstairs the flogging had finally finished. The sounds we heard now were sexual in nature. Gabriela’s big O approaching. The headboard rattling against the bedroom wall.

‘Masturbate for me, Jimmy,’ I said softly. I sat beside him on the sofa. I wriggled my skirt up to my hips. ‘You like my legs?’ Apparently he did; he unzipped his fly. ‘Grip it really tightly for me and rub it fast. That’s it. Hard and fast. Think about Kay upstairs. Can you hear them. Dee and Gabby are going to take turns fisting her. Her pretty little couch will gape like a railway tunnel when they give her back to you…’

I took his free hand and rubbed it up the inside of my thigh then round to the strap of my suspender.

That seemed to do the trick. His body spasmed violently. His breathing caught abruptly in his throat. Outside it had started to rain; it rattled suddenly against the glass of the patio doors. Kay cried out in pleasure upstairs – I suspected Dee would be licking all round the hand she’d shoved inside Kay’s dripping sex just about now. There was a magpie bobbing about on the lawn again…

‘You needed that, Jimmy, didn’t you?’ I said, my attention returning to his stubby dick and the mess in his lap and down my left leg. ‘I’ll get some kitchen roll and you can have a cleanup. Another drink would probably be a good idea, too…’

So my Saturday rolled ever onwards. The rain became more intense, puddling the patio and weighing down the sagging heads of the hydrangeas at the bottom of the garden. The three girls remained upstairs for a further hour of finger fucking and licking. Jimmy sat quietly with his drink, while I roasted a tray of vegetables, courgettes, peppers, tomatoes and what-have-you then we all sat down together to eat. The three women had glowing, bright red faces when they came downstairs.

‘Enjoy yourselves?’ I asked.

‘Wonderful,’ Kay said. ‘Have to do that again.’ She looked at her hubby on the otherside of the table. ‘What about you, Jimmy?’

He smiled broadly. I came all over the leg of a Goddess,’ he said. ‘It was bloody fantastic…’


‘The meal went well, nice steak…’

‘The waitress was a bit surly, don’t you think?’

‘What, Geninne? She was alright. Why’d you think her surly?’

‘She was abrupt. Almost threw the menu at me…’

Only half-listening to Dee and Gabriella in the sitting room. I watch the second hand on the wall clock tick, ticking its way round the white clock face. I sip my pernod.

‘Have you done something to upset her?’

‘No, of course not.’

What absolute crap. Dee doesn’t realise the effect her behavior has on others. Not so many weeks ago, at Dr John’s birthday bash, she was all over Geninne’s boyfriend. “A harmless flirtation” she later called it. ‘No one in their right mind could take that seriously…’

‘I don’t think Peedeel enjoyed his meal…’

I glance at Gabriela. I’d ordered a veggie dish, a bean stew, but it had been tasteless and indifferently prepared. All through the meal I’d been very aware of the chastity device fastened to my cock.

‘It was okay,’ I lied. ‘I wasn’t very hungry, is all.’

Raining on the way home from the restaurant, too: fine rain like clouds of smoke drifting over the moor. The sheep looking so bedraggled and thoroughly pissed off with their lot. Out in this perpetual mizzle everything soon gets soaking wet. One of our cats, a dripping black puddle, crashed through the catdoor like a drowning Banshee to welcome us home…

‘At least he’s glad to see me.’ I attempt to dry him with handfuls of kitchen roll. One sheet is NOT enough! Cats sense your thoughts and feelings before you’re aware you’re having them. Intuitive creatures. Hearing so sensitive they can hear the tread of spiders or the growth of flowers in the rain.

‘There is no such thing as ‘was’ – only ‘is.’ If ‘was’ existed, there would be no grief or sorrow,’ according to William Faulkner. And I could never argue with him. Who would dare argue with a dead man? Especially one with such a creative mind?

So, my tight little cock cage is feckin’ uncomfortable. Not was, but IS!

So what is it Dee wants? What’s behind all this chastity nonsense? She is looking over at me, deep shadow beneath her cheekbones.

‘He’s sulking?’ she says to Gabby. ‘Because I locked away his favorite toy. He’s got nothing to play with.’

‘Typical man,’ Gabriella responds.

‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘It’s only on until Monday.’

‘Next month,’ Dee says quickly. Goalposts move frequently in our house; it’s become almost a way of life for us. ‘Gabriella persuaded me. What’s the point of locking it away for a few days. Four full weeks without is more a sacrifice worth making…’

‘Fine.’ I didn’t bite. ‘Whatever. It makes no difference to me.’

‘He’s resigned to it,’ Gabby says.

‘Would you like it to come off tomorrow?’ Dee’s expression is crafty. ‘It could, if you wanted…?’

I shrug. ‘Que será, será.’ My spontaneous expression of fatalism is too impressive for words. Poke it in your pipe and smoke it, ladies. I’m Mr feckin’ COOL.

Dee doesn’t look in the slightest put out by my response. She has an agenda and will stick with it come what may.

‘You could become Navina again…Just for one day.’

‘I’m too long in the tooth,’ I reply. ‘I buried Navina after that fancy dress party three, four years ago. Laid her to rest with full military honours. No more crossdressing…’

It must be said: Dee has more than a tang of the Intergalactic about her. Her thought processes could easily come from outer space via the moon, they’re that feckin’ complex at times.

‘For the one and only occasion,’ she replies. ‘A simple one off.’

‘Why? To what end?’

‘Jimmy T is very curious,’ she says. ‘He’d like to see you as Navina. He didn’t believe me when I told him how convincing you can be as a young woman.’

‘There are photos. Show him those.’

‘Ah, it’s slightly more difficult than that,’ Dee says. ‘It’s his wife, Kay, you see. She’s very curious too – but not about Navina. No, her curiosity concerns Gabriella and myself.’

‘You two want to bonk her,’ I say quietly. ‘That’s what this is all about? A feckin all girls threesome?’

‘I didn’t know about any of this until tonight,’ Gabby says, tone pleading. ‘Honest to God, I didn’t.’

‘We could be together,’ Dee says. ‘But we need Navina to…well, to occupy Jimmy for a couple of hours. He’s very bi-curious. It’ll be a new experience for him…Virgin territory.’

How many ways are there of saying no, I wonder? At least now I knew why I’ve suffered the indignity of wearing a pink silicone chastity device all evening! Dee’s sexuality, the mode d’emploi of every bloody thing! And I should know! Cartographer of hemlines and eyelids, and the curious shell-like contours found between the legs of women!

Indeed I should know!

Gabriella looks uncomfortable. As if she thinks Dee’s gone too far this time (which she has). Dear Gabby has stopped shaving “down there”; her pubic region now resembles an out-of-control Brillo pad on a regular double-dose of steroids.

I contemplate the delicious archipelagos of Dee’s firm body beneath her dress. I smile at her, shrug: ‘Not going to happen,’ I say gently. ‘Why can’t I just take him down the pub instead. We could both get a little pissed-up, while you two shag his sexually ambiguous misses. What’s wrong with that?’

‘To go ahead with this, Kay needs to think he’s having sex with AN-other. His interest in Navina seemed the ideal opportunity to – ‘

‘…Climb into his wife’s panties,’ I say, interrupting her flow. ‘Yes, I see that. At the risk of sounding churlish, though, ladies, I’m not much enamored of the idea. A casual male acquaintance bum fucking me for a couple of hours, while I wear tight girly underthings, is not my idea of Nirvana – surprising as this might seem…’

‘But it’d only be the one time…!’

‘NO!’ Her almost infectious enthusiasm for pederasty leaves me cold. However I do want to get rid of this feckin’ pink monstrosity on my knob. It’s really beginning to irritate, and I have to struggle to prevent myself scratching at it.

‘Would you not consider a slight flirtation with him? No penetrative sex. Give him, perhaps, a slow handjob?’

‘No kissing,’ I say. ‘That’s out, too. Bad enough I have to dress-up, with all the feckin’ palaver that entails. That’ll take a good half-a-day…’

‘You’ll do it then?’

‘I s’pose. But this contraption comes off here and now. And I expect the pair of you to be very nice to me for the rest of the week.’ Good old fashioned blackmail. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Never does any harm. Could be in for a blowjob or two later.

‘It’ll be nice to see Navina again,’ Gabby says, smiling. ‘You really do her well, Peedeel. She’s so cute.’

‘The two problems,’ I say, ‘with my impersonating a woman – are my hands and my voice.’ I find I have to speak in a sort of strangulated whisper like an acute sufferer of laryngitis. Or in this husky, low voice that sounds a cross between Steve Martin, and Madonna on a bad day. And, of course, I have large hands (strangler’s hands, my mother used to call them). ‘But I’ll resurrect Navina one last time.’

Both girls smiling at me, the mosaic of our three lives lying before us. Dee will make all the arrangements for the coming tryst . So I sit watching the clock, totally accepting of the human mess we seem to have become. We have our highs, we have our lows. Moments of doubt and moments of certainty. But whatever else, getting that pink thing off my cock is worth a king’s feckin’ ransom.


The two girls were similarly dressed. Both wore blue. The taller of the two, Charlotte, wore a dress with a high collar and full skirt down to her knees. Her companion, Anita, much more daring, had on a low cut dress, with a higher hem that cut off mid-thigh. She carried a small clutch bag embroidered with beads. Both girls wore plenty of make-up.

For proprieties sake we’ll call the club the Open-Sesame, and it was neatly tucked away on one of those respectable suburban streets behind Gayton Road. I’d been a member for less than a year.

Art said to me, ‘I think one of those two could be a bloke.’ I suspected he was correct. Charlotte was tall for a girl, had big feet and hands. But I was fairly certain that petite Anita was pure woman.

Anyway, later on the pair invited me back to Anita’s flat in Ealing Village, and I went. We were together, the three of us, right through to Sunday night.

Saturday night to Sunday…When I left them both I felt totally used up, out of it. Sexually exhausted. But what the hell…You only live once! Right?