I love how things converge. I was perusing a dear friend's old fetish magazines and came across Skin Two issue 14. In it I found an article on Trash -- erotic performance artist and male impersonator extraordinaire -- looking twistedly sexy with a big rubber black cock hanging between her legs and elaborately drawn mustache, goatee and sideburns. The piece was published in 1993 and that same year I met Trash after one of her shows. I had tagged along with a girlfriend and we had dinner with Trash. I admit being a bit of a clueless college kid at the time and couldn't think of anything to say to this amazing drag king. But I did write about her for my school newspaper. Though overt kinkiness was still at the periphery of my life, I was on to something even then. Another college memory: me walking up and down rows of student artwork and freezing in front of one particular canvass. Before me stood the image of a beautiful hermaphrodite. "Wow. Different. Sexy." The seeds were being planted.
I cross-dressed myself for a scene with one of my loyal slaves the other day. It was my first time to do so professionally and what a blast! I dressed in a tight, sheer white "wifebeater" tank top, y-front undies (in the style of the horribly nick-named "tighty whities" but these were two-tone mesh from victoria's secret) packing a "soft cock" dildo and leather pants. My hair was slicked and tied back. We had an elaborate gender and power-bending roleplay where I was initially pretending to be a gay prettyboy bottom seeking a professional master. When the pro dom shows a complete inability to top, I turn the tables on him and turn him into my slut. In the end, my true identity as a femme domme is revealed when I take off my masculine attire to shower the slave with my piss.