In the past few days I’ve been thinking a lot about aggression/submission and our kind of relationship. Being overpowered is one of my biggest turn ons, yet one of my worst experiences. I do want it, but from a certain state of being overpowered on, I can no longer keep a healthy distance to my feelings. From there on I really need John to be in charge and decide what’s best for me, and we both know it would be very easy for him to lead me into self-destruction and irreversible damage.
But to be honest, he has already done irreversible damage to me, and I wanted it, I like it and I feel I needed it. Being brutally spanked and caned for years leaves marks and my butt-cheeks are scarred. I wanted it that way, because I wanted John to cover the scars my father left. I’d want him to cover every single one of them if that was possible. I like everyone can see these love-marks on me, and they are a constant reminder for me that I am his slut. His whore. His.
Sometimes when W and I talk, my thoughts wander. When we were lovers, he said he couldn’t do to me what I wanted and needed and now, having stepped so often over this border, I know exactly what he was talking about back then. To be honest, I think I crossed the point of safe return years ago. It didn’t take long to cross it after I had met John. He is so seductive and can do the worst things to me with a kind smile that makes my knees weak and my clitty hard in an instance. Have I ever considered coming back at all? On Friday, when I had my therapeutic session, I said that I always thought I imght go back to normal…until I found out that I’ve never been normal. Would normal turn me on, fulfill me? Not at all.
I am not surprised to find that certain thoughts do take their toll. I have only one person to talk that over apart from John and some internet-friends, and this is W. So I took courage and told him that the longer I think about starting hormone replacement therapy, the more I want it and the more my concerns vanish. I know I’m not transgender, I feel like a man and I don’t regard my cock as the wrong genital, but I miss having real tits, even though I like those silicone boobs. They are O.K. and they help a lot, but I envy those transsexual women who develop real boobs, and I feel the strong urge to be like them. I asked W whether he thinks that makes me less of a man. He gave me such a kind answer! He said he believes that we’re living in a time when the borders between the genders vanish, slowly but for sure, and that in some years it might be easier for people like me. He regards me as a man with a strong and beautiful feminine side. Oh my, that was cute 🙂
I doubt that I could get hormones without being able to assure my doctors I am living in the wrong body. W encouraged me to try to talk that over with my GP, but I don’t have much hope. After all, all my doctors know I have that PTSD and am mentally disabled and concerning what trans friends tell me, that doesn’t look too good for hormones. W convinced me to try it anyway, and he will even accompany me 🙂 But to be honest, I’m already taking other solutions into account. For sure I’m not going to eat a lot of tofu. Others have tried and they failed and even if I like tofu sometimes, I surely don’t like it enough to eat at least 1,2 kg of it per day! 🙂 I even consider getting plastic surgery, abroad, if neccessary and if German surgeons don’t feel capable to help me getting boobs. But I don’t want to think so far. First of all, I’m going to see my GP soon, hopefully in the coming days. Wish me luck, please.