what I learned from having my own dick

Recently I purchased a strap, which was a big deal emotionally.  I had wanted one for 20+ years.  Also, it was an expensive purchase.  I’m sorry it costs hundreds of dollars to affirm gender.  When I tried out the strap, my mind was blown.  This post is what I learned from having my own dick.

imagination

Most of my life, when I’m having sex including masturbating, I’ll imagine I have a dick.  This imagination feels important.  I never knew I would get to have a dick in the form of a dildo and harness.

I don’t have a girlfriend, and I thought the point of a strap was to fuck someone in the cunt or in the ass.  My spouse enjoys some ass-pleasure lately, but doesn’t want to be fucked in the ass.  Somehow I made the distinction that any non-fucking use of a strap was a waste of resources and not allowed to me.

Then I felt more trans.  I decided that I should have a strap, on hand just in case I ever needed to fuck someone in the ass or cunt.  And I started to daydream about my spouse sucking my dick.  Sounded super hot.

So I brought it up with my spouse as a sexual investment, and they readily agreed.

what I learned from having my own dick

A while back I read a graphic memoir called Gender Queer which has a memorable scene which got it banned.  The speaker is wearing a strap, and a sexual partner is going down on their dick.  I never liked the speaker of that book and couldn’t relate.  They seemed entitled and whiny.

Yet that scene made an impression on me.  The speaker complained that this thing they wanted– the sexual partner going down on their dick– was pointless, because they couldn’t feel it.

So I thought having a strap might be pointless since I couldn’t feel anything.  I was totally unprepared for how much I could feel.

hell yes

Not only did my dick in its harness nudge my clit and thrill me sexually.  But it was pure joy, just to rub the dick, feel it in my hand, and know it was mine.  I didn’t need anyone else, to access this.  Something about the self-touch was satisfying to the point that I’m crying just to describe it.  Not satisfying in a hot way necessarily, but in an emotional-spiritual way.  A part of me that had been denied all my life could finally exist in the physical world.

Was this my body now?  Sort of.  Kind of pretend–kind of not pretend.  It was disorienting but also a huge “hell yes.”

I enjoyed it so much that I got anxious because I didn’t understand how to moderate.  It reminded me of an eating disorder; I didn’t know how to decide how often I was allowed this activity.  It made me so happy that it stressed me out.  That was unpredictable.

seeing

I thought it would turn me on to look down and see the dick protruding from me, a beautiful purple erection.  But my tummy is very large, and I can’t get a good view.  I stepped into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and the sight of my dick was shocking and overwhelming.

I wanted to watch my spouse go down on my dick, but they haven’t done that yet.  They kissed it, but they didn’t take it down their throat.  I’m glad to have that to look forward to.  Maybe a vacation rental sometime will have well-placed mirrors.

The harness itself feels safe and wonderful on my body.  I feel held.  I’m so happy I allowed myself this pleasure.  So glad I spent $200 of money from my mom’s house on meeting my own needs and learning more about who I am.

Turns out I like myself very much.  Thanks, Mom.

trans

The experience was good but overwhelming.  My spouse held me as I cried.  Afterward I felt changed.  I was shaken for days.

It was bonus disorienting that I felt like I couldn’t talk about it with many people afterward.  It felt intensely personal and TMI for my friends.  Embarrassed, I did eventually bring it up with my therapist, who is trans non-binary and was kind.

That night I had trouble sleeping, I was so excited and confused.  Was I really enby?  I’ve never had dysphoria–I love my parts.  In the night as I couldn’t sleep, I realized that I wish I could have a dick as well as a vulva and breasts.  But there isn’t really a spot, because my vulva takes up the spot where a dick might be, and I hate surgery.  So I don’t think I will try to get additional genitals.  But the truth is, if I had to decide a true form, that would be my true form.

I guess I could go on T and try to grow out my clit, but I like my voice as it is, I don’t want my breasts to wither, I don’t need a beard, and I don’t need to redistribute my fat.  Certainly I don’t want to rely on mainstream medicine.  Maybe a strap is enough.

thank you

I feel more sure that I’m not a woman, as I drift further from the mistake that I need to force myself into a role that doesn’t match my identity.  Grateful to my closest dear ones, especially my spouse, for helping me have a good life where I’m safe to try things.