Transmale -Anonymous

Warning: Contains language of a sexual nature

After reading some of the stories on here, especially that ‘8 Steps’ by Roxy, I wanted to write something. I just didn’t know what. So what I am going to do is just write, and see what comes out of my (typy) mouth. Be warned.

 

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Here we go:


 

I am a transmale. I think I should be called a transboy or transman, but I chose transmale, so fuck you, that’s why.

 


“When did you know?” I get that a lot. All people do who are LGBT. It’s a boring question and I hate answering it. I do, but just because most of the time they’re asking out of genuine and sincere curiosity.


 

“When I was very young.” I say. “How young?” They respond. “I have no fucking clue [then the age old comeback:] How old were YOU when you KNEW?” They always say “I always knew.” Boring.


 

I had an ‘inny’ and I wanted an ‘outy’. I knew that from being younger than I can really remember. Probably the first time I saw a dick. That’s what I wanted. I wanted a dick (on me, not in me).

 

I immediately didn’t identify with lesbians, which is odd, because some of them embodied a lot of the looks and attitude that I admired; boyish haircuts, clothes, and a more assertive attitude (sexism, I know).


 

I am young. I grew up in the age of the internet and very readily availability pornography. Sexually, I was attracted to girls, but lesbian porn (or the internet’s version of it) held no interest to me. I wanted to watch a man fucking a woman. I wanted to be that man. I didn’t want to have sex with a woman, I wanted to FUCK her.


 

Penis envy. I’m sure there’s Freudian theory out there to explain it, but fuck that guy. I am on my own journey here.


 

So, like a lot of trans people, I started dressing and acting like the gender I wanted,and it helped. Of course it came with odd looks, questions about if I was a boy or a girl or not (“I’m a boy; fuck you” … I was an aggressive child, filled with self-doubt and anger), and teasings from both boys and girls about how I was.


 

I didn’t care. I wanted a dick. It consumed me; I would look at them in fascinated envy. Anyone would think I was searching for them for sexual reasons, as I was looking at them all the fucking time. But it wasn’t sexual attraction to the dick, it was the desire to have one attached to me, fully functioning, and ready to stick it in some pussy.


 

When I jacked off, I would envisage myself as the dude. I would be the guy giving it to the girl. I would be assertive (not aggressive) in bed. I’d be flipping her about, slapping her arse; it got me off.


 

But I hated masturbating (didn’t stop me, though). I didn’t wanted to stick my fingers in my boxers (yup: wore those, stuffed with a thick sock), and reluctantly work my pussy, all the while imagining I was jacking off a big fat dick.


 

Being a transmale is kinda shit.


 

The procedure for turning a male to a female is much easier, and results in an organ that can do a lot of things a regular pussy can do.


 

But female to male? That shit is just that: shit. They have to BUILD YOU A DICK. And it doesn’t even work properly. It can be inflated or whatever, and you can fuck someone, but you get about as much sensation as if you were using a strap on (my go-to, btw … I know you were all wondering).


 

A lot of transmales/men/boys/whatever decide to keep their pussy. That way they get a dick and balls, but can still enjoy sex and orgasm, something you wouldn’t get if you were sans-pussy.


 

THAT’S BULLSHIT. I want to have a dick, and shoot my load whenever and on whomever (with full consent, obv). I don’t want to keep my pussy. I don’t even LIKE it. I like other people’s pussies. I’ll go down there for however long you can stand it (or I get tongue-fatigue), and I will strap on my strap on, and go at you like a horny teen (which, you know … I am). But I WANT TO HAVE A DICK.

 

I spoke to people. I used to get depressed. I narrowly avoided self-harm, which people applaud me for, though I think they should be directly that energy elsewhere … thanks though. I would speak to organisations that helped ‘people like me’, but I was so dissatisfied with everything I was being told.


 

This is not a happy piece with a wonderful ending. I’m an unhappy transmale, who looks like a boy, talks like a boy (took some learning), stuff my underwear, have sex with girls, and realise that the world is slowly getting better (some of it, anyway) for ‘people like me’.


 

But until I get a big, 7/8 inch dick to fuck the girl I’m with until we’re both happily sore, I will continue to be unhappy.


 

Maybe Arcadia can help me. The stories are great, and Alex is very inspiring. Maybe it won’t. Maybe I need to be with people who are more ‘like me’, but I am sick of those inverted commas.


 

Anyway. Thanks for reading, I guess.


 

Anonymous.