Toe Be Or Not Toe Be

This is not for the faint at heart. Explicit content.

Last Saturday began quite normal. After work I went home and Love and I had breakfast, then he needed to work again and I met with Andrea, a crossdressing friend of mine. When I returned home, I made pasta for dinner. All very normal so far. After dinner, Love wanted to take a shower, because we had planned to go to the cinema with W and M. When he entered the shower, John saw some dirt which wasn’t supposed to be there. You know, there are some things that he wants to have done daily, some even more than once daily, and I use to check on them each time I walk past them. One of that is a neat and tidy bathroom. Hair clippings, dust, make up stains and things like that are an absolute no go for him. So he barked me over to him and had me clean the shower while he waited impatiently beside it, telling me to go to our bed and await my punishment.

Well, that’s always the critical point for people in 24/7-relationships, isn’t it? It’s actually very easy to trick your Dom into punishing you if you know his “weaknesses”. Just act against his rules, and there you go and get your happy time, right? Not quite right. Because I am strictly forbidden to trick John into punishing me, and to be honest, doing so would feel completely unsatisfying for me, because I strive to make my Master happy by giving my best. But anyway. We were getting a little short of time and so after getting dressed he rushed a bit forward to my punishment. He commanded me to lie on the bed with naked feet that were stretched over the side. I could hear him taking off his belt and he told me to count to 25.

I’m certainly not really into bastinado, but of course I accept it as an effective punishment. It hurts, most times nobody sees the bruises (because nobody actually pays attention to the bottom of your feet) and you can feel the pain for days when wearing shoes or walking. But bastinado might even be a bit more tricky to administer to your sub than a normal spanking. You know, properly warmed up tissue can endure a lot, so usually bodyparts that are not used to hits should get a proper warm up by softer strikes so that the blood rush increases, the bodyparts get warm and are then ready for real pain. Well, when he hit me for the eighth time, I knew something went tremendously wrong. It hurt so bad, I yelled, but John didn’t get that something was wrong right away, and I was stupid and didn’t remember the safe word in an instance. I usually never use it, so when severe pain distracts me from thinking, I’m lost LOL All in all, I earned three more hits before I could make him stop. I was so much in pain, I could not even really talk, just fell from the bed and screamed.

Cinema? Done. That much was clear right away. My first toe on the right side hurt so much I thought it was going to fall off. When John realized what had happened, he brought me ice, but after about an hour it got clear that I needed to see a doc. Walking wasn’t fun, but we managed to get me to his car. He drove me to the hospital. Hospitals on Saturday evening are amazingly full and we needed to wait almost 3 hours with my toe getting bigger and bigger and hurting like stupid.

When I finally saw a doc, he had me x-rayed. The good thing is that nothing’s broken. The bad thing is that the articular capsule wasn’t able to stand the hits. I think it’s because the tissue wasn’t warmed up. I got a mighty bandage and crutches and now see my GP every second day. A great way to spend my spare time, as I’m not able to work that way. Oh boy. If there’ll be no real healing going on in the next 10 to 14 days, they’ll have me the MRT, then we’ll see. Did I mention I’m going to the U.S. next month or that running is one of the best ways to cope with anxiety and stress? Ugh!

Well, as my husband is a loving Dom, I got the missing hits on my buttocks on Sunday morning. He didn’t apologise for wrecking my toe, he just told me that if the shower had been clean, there had been no problems. That’s for sure, but I’m ok with that. I’m his possession and can handle that pain, even though it puts stress upon me. To be honest, even though I know it’s just been an accident, it made me very horny to hear John tell the doctor that he hit me and it happened then, because he gave him a look as if he wanted to ask John whether he was serious… My GPs reaction was not as interesting, he just told me again that this abusive relationship blah blah.

When John left for work this morning, he told me pracmatically: “…but that way you have enough time to check on the bathroom…nothing wrong with your hands, right?”. Right, sweetheart. And I know that’s awful, but it gives me a very wet spot in my panty to regard myself as his rightless slave-fucktoy-playthingy he can even injure, because nobody cares about it. Love it.


Cross The Puddle

We have some U.S. citizens among our closest friends (like my buddy W) and in the past few months there has only been one topic, namely their new president. Usually I’m not very interested in politics though John is always well-informed and tells me a lot about what’s going on, but this time it’s quite different. I’m concerned about what Trump’s election will do not only to the U.S. but to the world in general and I think it won’t be long before he will try to distract people from what’s going on inside the U.S. by starting a war.

And I’m concerned on a very personal level, because W and I will be travelling to the U.S. in March, which was planned long-term. Though W keeps telling me that I don’t fit into their enemy-scheme, I just feel fear for my personal security and that puts a lot of pressure upon me. Not that a 14-hour-flight alone would stress me out… I fear I might get strip-searched, and while being abused is my kink, I know this would re-traumatize me. Sometimes I freak out that much that I actually consider cancelling that trip.

On the other hand everyone keeps telling me that these holidays will be so imporant for me, and I too want to go. It would be so beautiful to meet people of W’s family and get to know all the places that mean so much to him. And of course I’m really excited to learn more about his spiritual tradition as well.

At the moment I’m constantly asking myself what I was thinking. Ugh.

Long Time No See

I can’t believe it’s been a month since I’ve posted here last time. Happy new year to everybody πŸ™‚ Hope you’ve been alright.

The last couple of weeks have been very busy and very beautiful as well. Right after the new year had started, John and I went off to see Leo in Switzerland. We had a nice suite in a hotel in the Alps and spent the week with relaxing in their spa, skiing (John only, while Leo and I sat inside some nice bar or on their terrace, where I got a bad sunburn), going out for dinner and talking the nights away. When we returned home, John and I felt lonely, like we always do when we have to say goodbye to Leo.

I’ve taken part in a Yoga workshop about clear-outs and new starts which was just beautiful. I think I’ve taken from it a lot of inspiration for this new year, and as a result I started by clearing out some of my old stuff like books, magazines, clothes and so on. It was the first time I felt like I’m able to give away some of my gurly things I no longer wear, and I gave them to Andrea. I want to continue clearing out and even check our kitchen, the livingroom and so on.

At work the things are back to the normal pace, except for my decision to try to work more hours. From now on until the end of March I will be working 16 up to 20 hours a week instead of 12. If I can’t make it, then I shall tell my boss right away, but the past weeks have been o.k. If by the end of March I think I want to keep it up, then I’ll be able to. At the moment it feels well, and I don’t complain about earning more money. John lets me keep all my money to myself and he’s generous with his, but I like having more money to spend for things he likes, like make-up, my nails, lingerie and some dinners outside πŸ™‚

Concerning Ginny, I have come to a state of mind where things feel a bit more settled. I’m not so anxious about what other people might think about me when I’m dressed up. I think though I’m quite slender, you can tell right away I’m a man, and that’s no longer such a problem for me. When I don’t pass, I don’t mind as long as I feel good about myself, and being able to talk about my crossdressing feelings with a trans-friend of mine really helped me getting things sorted out. I like myself as a guy and I like myself as Ginny, and the only thing I still would want to change is that I really want to have small boobies. Natural, if possible. The problem with transplantation of my own body-fat might be that I don’t have as much breast tissue like a woman has, so to shape boobs that really look natural I might need to get silicone implants, ironically. We have talked a lot about that recently and I thought very often how much easier it would be to “just” take hormons, but I’m not willing to do that as there’s anyway no chance to get them from a German doctor, because I’m not trans. And taking hormons of some strange sources surely isn’t the right thing to do for me, because it may effect my mental disorder. I think surgery is the best way, and as t seems, I might even be able to have surgery in Germany! Let’s face it: as long as you pay the bills, you can even get boobs if you’re a man. The only thing that keeps me from getting boobies right away is the fear that I might regret it, though for the past years that wish has just gotten stronger. And even if I find some day that having boobs was a bad idea, what hinders me to have them removed then?

Leo said something so nice that I want to remember forever. He said: nothing hotter than a person with a dick and boobs πŸ™‚



Between Days

Christmas was very exhausting this year and I think I’m glad when we’re all back to normal next week. In fact, I am happy to work between the holidays. Tomorrow I’ll be in from 8 to 12, then again on Monday. I found it challenging to cope with the high expectations my brother and his wife have towards Christmas. I do understand they want to celebrate it and I do understand that they expect me (or us) to fit into that need. But I too feel that even doing my best isn’t good enough, because I am “different”, for whatever that’s supposed to mean. During the hoidays I have to cope with a lot of bad memories coming up and to be honest with a lot of self-pity about how and who I might have been as well.

Meeting W and M on Christmas was so much easier for me, and it was because I could be the gurl I am with them. M had prepared the most delicious japanese fondue ever, for them with meat and fish, for me without. I even had two small glasses of wine and did well with them.

Even though John and I don’t make each other big gifts, he presented me with a beautiful pearl for the Pandora bracelet and he even wrote me a cute card, which is very unusual, to say thanks for anything I do for him and let him do, with or without me.

Tomorrow we’ll be visiting W and M again who have also invited some other friends over. I think I couldn’t start better into the new year.

I want to thank anybody who sticks with me here and wish you a healthy and happy new year!

Happy Holidays!

Sometimes being among strangers as a crossdresser is kind of weird and it even may lead to situations in which I feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I misjudge situations and people and what I think is a potentially harmful environment turns out to be welcoming and vice versa. In everyday life, my crossdressing is quite discreet. I don’t want to be mistaken for a hooker, even though that’s part of my and John’s kink. In everyday life, I just love to be Ginny and you know that she’s become a very important part of me. Ginny isn’t a whore, she’s just cute, shy and a bit giggly and she likes John to be a gentleman and so on. Perfect clothes for Ginny in everyday life are for example chinos with a cute jacket and sneakers or, if the occasion is right, a skirt or dress with cute sandals and so on.

I guess the most challenging part of being among people as a crossdresser is getting the body language right. Men and women have different ways to behave, to move and to gesture, and I think you can tell right away when you see me, even from behind, that I’m a guy and not a girl, even though I’ve gotten better over time. Well, and being quite tall and having a male physique doesn’t quite help πŸ™‚ I think for a man, I am quite slim, but still I have wider shoulders then women tend to have and longer arms and so on. And how well I do as a woman is a question of how I feel as well. Sometimes when I’m weary or nervous, I tend to fall back into my normal body language, and when I’m relaxed and most times when John is with me, I’m better.

So, yesterday John and I were out to shop for what we’ll need during the following days and I was dressed up as Ginny, but I felt a bit uncomfortable. Shops were full and people were a bit stressed out, and I tried my best not the attact attention in a negative way. It wouldn’t have marvelled me if someone would have said not so nice things to me, but then I got my own little Christmas surprise. I was scrambling about in a box of salads to find me one with not so many wilted leaves on, when I felt someone standing next to me. I looked up and saw it was a woman, about my age. She smiled at me and asked me to hand her one good salad, too, and then she smiled again, thanked me and added conspirationally: “I think you do very well…I mean, you look beautiful. Merry Christmas!” in German. I was so baffled, then I had to smile. That was so cute πŸ™‚

Tomorrow evening we’ll be visiting my brother and sister-in-law. My brother asked me to come “like my brother”, so no crossdressing obviously. On the 25th we’ll meet A and M for lunch and my friend W and his partner M for dinner, and on the 26th we’ll see my brother and sister-in-law for dinner again. Busy days ahead.

I know I don’t have many followers, but I wish you all joyful Christmas and happy holidays!


On the past Saturday I had my awaited punishment and John kept his word. My ass was raw and in fact still is, though taking care for it properly makes it heal up quite well each time (no creams or bandages, just a lot of air to help the skin dry and daily showering with blowing it dry afterwards, that’s indeed the whole trick. And of course good nutrition with a lot of water to drink, fresh fruits and veg).

In the gay community, there are two main opinions about crossdressers like me, roughly said. Some just hate crossdressers and guys who love to wear feminine underwear and accessory, and there are events where they give out the strict advice not to attend when you’re dressed up. Some others love all about crossdressers and trannies in general, and most of them are a bit older, 40+. The guys I love most, though I regard guys of my age (40) as too young for me. I have a crush for men from about 50 to 65 recently, but I have met some younger and some elder who were awesome, too.

Most times, dogging is about having sex with radomly appearing strangers, but sometimes you can make appointments beforehand. Depending on the dogging point you want to attend, it’s sometimes a better option to make an announcement to make sure there are enough guys around who like to fuck a crossdressing bitch like me. And for Saturday, John had prepared everything nicely. To be honest with you, I think it’s a part of his kink to plan anything nicely πŸ™‚

He had me dress up with ouvert panties and a bra (no fake tits allowed, he wanted them to mock me for my pathetic small tits). No lube, no warnings, no help, just raw fucking and serving. I love rough sex, but nevertheless being gangraped is a thing that might overwhelm me, so I need John near to make sure I get through it alright. Alright actually means he takes care for the guys to use a condom when penetrating my asscunt and staying clean. No blood, no needles or whatever. Because I know he’s taking care for that, I can truly dive into that experience, and at some point I would not even be able to stay in charge.

The pain and degradation are two of my main kinks and it really turns me on to be fucked by a guy while another who had fucked me before cums right into my face. That sticky, smelly cum all over me, smearing my make up, is incredibly gorgeous πŸ™‚ John took a lot of pictures. Later he said he might consider getting a mug made for me with a picture of myself covered in cum on it, and I love the idea πŸ™‚ The best thing, I had two orgasms on Saturday and they were so violent, it hurt.

Being fucked by so many didn’t do my red ass good. It was really painful afterwards from all the hits and touches and juices, but when the last one was done with me and I was wrapped up in a huge towel not to get stains on the car-seats, I felt tired and damn satisfied.

Later home I got back into the device and I guess I’ll stay denied for some more days, though I hope I might cum again on Christmas. Anyway, I hope I left no doubt about what I really am: just a cum rag, there for the pleasure of real men.

Bad Gurl

I’ve been a bad gurl recently and John thought I might learn my lesson better by writing and telling you about it. The following text is part of my punishment this week. You know, love hurts…

He had the annual Christmas party at work this Monday and had asked me to pick him up. I was told to wear nothing but a very slutty piece of lingerie and a large butt plug with a warm coat over it. He expected me to wait in the car and be on time. The knack was that he told me to meet a friend I know from my Yoga lessons before picking him up and going to the Christmas market with him. I was supposed to let this friend take a quick and “random” glance at what I was wearing underneath. Oh, I had hated that idea from the beginning. Usually I’m quite open about what a slut I am, but Yoga is a sort of other part of my life, even though they know I get my nails done. But I’m really trying carefully not to let them know I wear girls’ undies and so on.

First of all, I was surprised by how cold it actually was with just a sweet nothing under the coat and even with socks, boots, a scarf and a hat on! I was glad to get hold of warm food and actually two cups of kid’s punch. My Yoga friend and I were chatting along nicely, but the longer we just stood and talked, the more insecure I got. I really did not want to do it. I felt like I could not, because I thought it might destroy what he thinks about me, and I wanted him to really like me. You know, I think when I’m doing Yoga or are in a class or am together with my Yoga mates, then I’m another person, more like a normal guy. You all know how much I actually struggle with being the slut I am, even though I can’t help it.

To put the long story short, I didn’t do it and didn’t complete the task my Master gave to me. I have disappointed him and chose to be disobedient. It was my failure. I was unable to fulfill that simple task because I’m a dumb whore and a pathetic performer.

When I picked up Master, he just had to look into my eyes to know I failed. I felt so ashamed, but I excused and told him why I had not been able to do so, while I was already driving us home. For a while he didn’t reply and that’s the worst because I can feel him getting mad at me. He told me where to drive and I know it was not for home. On a semi-public parking lot he made me park the car and get out. I had to undress my coat and it was really cold! He told me to bend over and spanked me there right away, first with his hand, then with his belt, paying no attention to the other cars passing by. I thought someone would stop, but even though some passed us slowly, nobody did. He only stopped when my ass was bloody and my clit was throbbing. I was allowed to get back in the coat and get driving again. And again he fell silent. I knew it wasn’t over yet.

Later at home he fucked me relentlessly, I really felt like being ripped apart, and I liked that. “So you didn’t want him to know you’re a slut?”. I nodded my head, getting hit in the face for that. “You didn’t want him to know you’re a little fucktoy for anybody?”. The sweet and malicious voice he used made my clit twitch again. He pressed his mouth against my ear, whispering “I have news for you then. Dogging on the weekend, with your ass being really, really red. You’ll be serving any cock presented to you, and I don’t mind if they’re nasty or ugly. Got that, whore?”. I got it. “We’ll let everyone know about you. And I know you like that”. Oh damn, I do…

Eventually he sentenced me to chastity and daily spankings until Saturday. I’m as horny and willing to be publicly raped as a fuckwhore must be. I can’t wait to serve a lot of cock as that’s my purpose in life. I want you to know that even if I’m pretending I’m a normal guy, I am not. I am just a dumb, worthless rapewhore and that gets me hard.