Transition

Chapter 2

“Point well taken.”

“There’s also the double standard on things like bondage. If you show a picture or film of a woman tied up, it’s considered to be exploitive pornography. I think that’s the term. But if you show a man tied up, that’s perfectly okay.”

“Again, I agree with you. Why do you think this has happened?”

“s**t, I don’t know. I think a bunch of very unhappy women decided to b***h about the unfairness of a lot of things and they found some targets much easier to tackle than others. Pulp magazines and eight millimeter films were easy targets. Then CDs and DVDs came along and basically went underground. That seemed to essentially settle the issue for most feminists who simply said ‘bondage is porn’.”

“That’s probably a quicker explanation than you imagine,” Marti agreed.

“Then there’s the contemporary fashion of bearing as much skin as you think you can get away with. It drives me crazy. High skirt hems,” he nodded slightly towards Marti’s legs and she tugged the hem down a fraction of an inch, “and really plunging necklines are in vogue. The only people who get upset about this are the religious nuts and mothers and fathers who dread seeing their daughters walking around looking like hookers with three quarters of their breasts exposed and little left to the imagination.”

“I agree with you,” Marti said. “Ever since the outbreak of what some of us refer to as the feminist disease, the imbalance has grown. It puzzles me that there is still a pretty strong resistance to seeing men in Speedo bathing suits but no one has a problem with women in bikinis.”

“Exactly,” said Don, warming to the subject. “Top fashion models tend to skirt the gender issue entirely by being so far out from the day to day reality that no one seems to care,” he fussed, jumping up and walking to a magazine rack near the wall and quickly thumbing through a copy of Vogue. “Like this,” he said suddenly, holding up a full-page color photo of a pole-thin model with a tight, white, scoop neck, T-shirt that showed every detail of her small, sharply pointed breasts and the budding hard n*****s beneath the thin fabric. “And it’s a given that the bodies on most models are neither realistic nor possible for most contemporary women.”

“I agree,” said Marti quietly. “How does that make you feel?”

“Jealous. I want to look like that…at least in some ways.”

“What ways?”

“I want to be able to show off my great t**s, walk in high heels, wear soft, tight clothes, have long, attractive legs, beautiful hair, go to hair dressers and be pampered. Stuff like that.”

“Do you perceive that there are some barriers in being able to do that?”

“Are you kidding?” Don shouted.

“And do you think society condones that sort of look?” Marti said, pointing vaguely with her pen towards the magazine.

“Maybe it’s not encouraged in some company, but no one is going to make trouble for a bra-less woman in a Tee shirt.”

“True,’ said Linda. “I get your point.”

“Women can even use a men’s room and get away with it,” added Don, “but a man can’t switch his gender appearance without all sorts of stigma being attached. In some places, cross dressing is considered a crime, for Christ’s sake.”

“You are right,” Marti said, soothingly. “In some ways, our society has made great strides toward acceptance and tolerance of gender issues, but in this area, we’re still pretty hung up,” the psychiatrist said.

“I think that we’ve gone too far in the other direction. After all, if a woman files a s****l harassment claim against a man, he is screwed. It’s as bad as if he gets charged with child abuse. There is no defense, even though it may be the woman’s word against his. The law is lopsided.”

“You think so?” Marti asked quietly, surprised at this turn in the discussion. “Well, yes. I do. I agree that in the past, there was little recourse for women being annoyed by men, but now a whole set of new laws is really a ball-busting by women getting even for the old days.”

“I suppose a lot of men think that, don’t they?” asked Marti, writing on her note pad. “Do you think that if you dress as a female you will gain some benefits from this change in the law?”

“No. And I don’t care. It’s all part of the inequity. The stalking laws, forcing the man to pay for child support, alimony. All of those things are loaded in the woman’s favor right now. And cross dressing is, I think, part of it.”

“An interesting argument,” Marti said quietly, still writing. “Have you had any actual experience with this?”

“You bet I have. Last winter, I met Marilyn, a girl in the office and we seemed to get along pretty well. We started dating almost every night and eventually I ended up staying at her apartment and she stayed over at mine.”

“Were you having s*x?”

“Yes. Of course. And it was pretty good until one night when she suggested that I would look really good as a girl. I almost died. I couldn’t believe it, but our s*x went from pretty good to incredible.”

“Let me interrupt here for a moment,” Marti interjected.

“Okay. What?”

“Were you engaged in intercourse when she made this suggestion?”

“Sort of. I mean we were in bed.”

“So, out of the blue, while you are having s*x, this girl says that she would like to see you as a woman?”

“That’s pretty much it. She picked up her bra and asked me to try it on. I was really upset. I stopped what we were doing and got out of the bed and started to put my clothes back on, but she was very sweet and persistent and said that it would be a favor to her if I would just do this.”

“And did you?”

“Yes. Eventually, with her doing most of it and me just not resisting. She put her panties on me, played with my p***s and balls, stuffing them down into the crotch of the panties and showing me how to bring my legs together so that no s*x showed in front. Then she put the bra on me. She took my socks and stuffed the bra with them, giving me breasts of a sort. This didn’t look right, so then she got up, went to her dresser and came back with a pair of very realistic breast forms. She called them “weighted foam enhancers” and slipped these into the bra. I was stunned with the feeling and the look. It even looked real with me not having any real chest hair and the bra pushing my body fat into a bit of faux cleavage. At the time, I didn’t think about why she happened to have these around since her own rack was really very nice and she certainly didn’t need the artificial boost. But she said they looked very much like real t**s on me. I was totally aroused and she was too. We got back into bed and had really wild sex.”

“Were you still upset?”

“Well, I had to agree with her that this was pretty cool. I certainly liked the feeling of her underwear on my skin. The panties were very tight and sexy and soft.”

“So you had s*x wearing her bra and panties?”

“Yes. Well….eventually the crotch of the panties was pulled aside and that was sort of arousing too.”

“So, what was the problem? People engage in all sorts of play in the bedroom.”

“I realized that this turned me on…a lot…but I was embarrassed. She told me that she was, in her words, essentially AC/DC, and that she really got hot if the guy was dressed and made up as a woman.”

“And it worked for you as well?’

“Yes. But I had a hard time understanding it and kept thinking that I must be queer to be getting off on this.”

“So, what made you bring this up now?”

“It’s tied into the day dream I just had. It’s not a fantasy.”

“Okay, Don. Can you tell me more about it?”

“I think it’s just so unfair that women can get away with this and men cannot. She was perfectly okay with this dress up s*x and I was….well, I was distressed, to say the least. I asked her if she thought it would work in reverse and she said it was fine with her. She was ready to try anything.”

“In reverse?”

“Me dressed as a woman and she dressed as a man.”

“Oh. Okay. How did that work out?”

“We didn’t really do it. She just put on my tee shirt and boxers and, well, she still looked like a very hot girl, with hair and make-up and big t**s, so that was as far as that went.”

“Don. That is perfectly normal.”

“I hear you. But it still bothers me.”

“So, what happened next? How did this experience impact your relationship?”

“Well, I thought about it and we talked it out. Then, in a few weeks time, I found that it was becoming the basis for our s*x lives. She bought me woman’s stuff to wear and it was getting very intense.”

“What did she buy you?”

“Bras, panties, stockings, garter belts, very realistic breast forms, a couple of expensive wigs and high heel shoes…”

“Anything else?”

“Uh, well yes. A couple of dresses, a skirt and a few blouses and tops. At the same time, she bought handcuffs, some dog leashes and chain collars for dogs.”

“Does she have a dog?’

“No, of course not. She said they were for us to play with.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what? Play dog with her?” Don asked, slightly irritated.

“Did the two of you use the cuffs and collars in your s*x play?”

“I…I, yes. We did. I was pretty uncomfortable with it, but she was very insistent that we extend our games, so I went along with it.”

“And you found it arousing. Stimulating?”

“Yes. Basically, she was leading me around by my very hard dick.”

“Can you describe this?”

“She had this tiny little jeweled collar that she put around my s*x and then clipped a leash onto it. If I didn’t do exactly as she ordered, she whipped my ass with a riding crop.”

“Okay. So, what else? Were you a male dog or a female dog?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, was that all? How did this event progress?”

“At first it was just the collar and leash,” Don said, thinking about the sequence of events.

“Then, one night, before we went to bed, she added the female clothing: stockings, garter belt, bra and panties, a ribbon in my hair and a dildoe with a fake tail on it up my ass.”

“You went along with this?”

“Yes. It was progressive, if you know what I mean. Nothing happened instantly. We would play and become very aroused with each other and then one thing led to another. At one point when she had already had at least one orgasm, she put the tip of the dog tail dildoe up my ass, very slowly and sort of wiggled it in. I suddenly came right there. I was still inside her.”

“I see. Go on, Don.”

“The next stage, I think, was when she added a sort of muzzle with a gag and a bit inside it and then she led me around the apartment and we f****d doggie style.”

“Who f****d whom, if I might ask?”

“I f****d her and then she tied me to rings on the floor and went and got a strap-on prick. She slowly took out my dildo tail, then got behind me and f****d me royally.”

“I am assuming that this was still mutually consensual?”

“Yes. I went along with it. It was exciting and fun, even though it sort of hurt. We were sort of acting out our fantasies, I guess.”

“Anything else?”

“My ass really hurt for awhile and I was really getting confused about the relationship, not sure about anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were really switching sexes. She played the dominant, but as a male. I was usually, not always, but usually the submissive female. But we were having great s*x and the weekends and evenings were never long enough.”

“What else?”

“She made up a calendar and put me on a schedule that matched her periods and I had to wear the same brand of panty liners that she used in my panties when those days came. By then we were dressing alike. My hair was getting longer, (like it is now) and she showed me how to wash and care for it.”

“Does she look like you?”

“In some ways, yes. Our hair is the same color, but mine wasn’t highlighted. Her’s was. With make-up…and she is very good with make-up, having been trained as a theatrical cosmetologist. When we were together we could have been twin girls. When I was not with her, I still had to wear the same things under my regular clothes. I had to go to the store and buy panty liners, panty hose, make-up and other stuff. It was very hard for me to do this, but (and not to sound funny) I was also hard while doing it.”