A Tale of Two Sissies

     The Mathematician hasn’t won the “Biggest Jerk” poll?  What the hell, people?  Was the Surgeon really that bad?  His tag label gets a lot of hits, so I cautiously presume my 8 readers enjoy reading descriptions of his amusing neuroses and our weird sex life.

      Would someone reading this please vote for the Mathematician and tip the poll in his favor (or unfavor, as the case may be)?  I have a fantasy in which I mail the birthday gift I never gave him to his office along with a card telling him that he is deeply unlikable and everyone agrees with me, and if he has a shred of remorse, he should keep this gift on his desk and ruminate about the pain he caused me whenever he lays eyes upon it.

       (But of course, I won’t do that, because he gets no more attention from me.  It wouldn’t work, anyway–if he was capable of empathizing with my pain, he wouldn’t have lied to me like that in the first place.  In my fantasy, though, the card has a cockatoo on it, so now he would have one of his own, and would not have to borrow his neighbor’s next time when he wants to seduce a gullible parrot-loving girl.)

If this music video doesn’t put a smile on your face, then you have no soul.  Some teachers in the department down the hall were watching it on a laptop at school.

     One guy didn’t like it and complained that it was reverse sexism.

     An angel of silence flew over the room.  I was there with three other women, and we just stared at him.

    “Of course it is.  That’s the point.  The video is a parody, Doctor (Dumbass).” (I did not actually call him “dumbass.” I did use his title, however.  This guy teaches political science!  Can you believe it?  And he’s got tenure!  I know this sounds like sour grapes, since it’s coming from a lowly adjunct slave instructor like myself, but FFS!

       “It’s still wrong!” he huffed.  Translation: guys in heels and sparkly thongs make me feel scared, either because they provoke homosexual panic within me or because they are an affront to the status quo of the patriarchy and this threatens my entitlement as a male. Or both.

      “That beat is really catchy!  Let’s watch it again! That black guy is hot!” said that woman beside me.  SCORE!

      We played it again and cranked up the volume.  Lol.

      Since we’re conveniently on the topic…I think I’ll use this opportunity to talk about crossdressers.  They come into the Studio all the time.  I don’t usually get crossdressing sessions because it’s not my thing and the guys know it, but yesterday I had two of them.  Two!

       There are two types of crossdressers.  The first type, whom I appreciate and respect, cross-dress because they love women and crossdressing is a way for them to celebrate women and feel closer to women and have fun with them.

    The second type, whom I despise, do it because they want to become the sexualized fetish object that they consider women to be.  This guy also wants to be humiliated, and he considers femininity to be humiliating, so he puts on some panties and lipstick–or he’s “forced” to by a mistress–and TA-DA!  He’s humiliated.

      Think about that, reader.  I implore you to take a second to let that sink in, because now we’re not just talking about a kinky guy getting his wacky pervy needs met.

     Now we’re talking politics.  Shit just got real.

     Now, the second type of sissy has a point.  He’s on to something–he’s not wrong!  The practice of femininity is humiliating. The elaborate beauty rituals are humiliating.  It is humiliating to hobble yourself with stupid shoes and clothing that doesn’t protect you from the elements.  Many men do not understand this.  I don’t think most of them even think about it.  But I also think there are plenty of thoughtful ones who, when confronted by this idea, will agree that a lot of femininity is degrading and dehumanizing.  To be constantly, constantly, constantly judged on your beauty and the way you appeal to men?  Are you kidding me? (I make a living, in part, off my looks.  I know exactly what a commodity they are.  Do you think I would make money at my secret job if I cut off my hair, stopped wearing makeup, and just went Rosie O’Donnel?  I’d lose 80% of my business overnight.  If not more.)

     The second type of sissy realizes this, even if his analyses are not sophisticated.

      And I guess that’s the Awful Truth about why he makes me angry and resentful: because he’s right about the system and sexism and he’s acknowledging it.  He’s just being honest, but I feel like he’s rubbing it in my face.  I fucking put on panties and lipstick every day of my life.  Nice to know that you find the way I have to live is inherently humiliating…even if it is.

      He’s dropping the fig leaf and engaging in a total misogyny-fest.  It is really awful to look at and when I do it with him, I feel like I’m colluding in my own oppression…which I am.   But I didn’t fucking set up this system, and it’s not fair.

     It’s like if I went to a black person and said, “I want you to dress me up in hip-hop clothing and blackface and make me rap, because that would be SO HUMILIATING, and it would totally get me off!”  FFS!  Really?  Really?

       This guy comes in yesterday and he’s got his sanitation-worker uniform on and a gold St. Christopher’s and a macho cop mustache, and he wants to be put into drag, and a wig, and some earrings, and then he goes up to the mirror and asks repeatedly if he looks like a whore.

       No, you jackass, you are wearing exactly what every woman wears every day of her life, including your mother and daughter.  But if you think that makes you “a whore,” then go ahead.

      “Are you going to beat me like a whore?”

      Why does this make me so mad?  He’s just being honest.  Whores do, in fact, get beaten up.  I don’t know a single woman in the Biz who hasn’t been assaulted by a client.  I know plenty of women who have been raped by clients. A guy put his cigarette out on a woman’s chest when she wouldn’t remove her bra just last week.  I am afraid of every single one of my clients until I get to know them and trust has been established.  Men are scary.

        I beat him, all right.  I wore my head out on that man.  He was muscular and it felt like I was hitting a frozen pot roast.  My hand hurts today (it’s an occupational hazard, lol.  Another one is pain in the elbow or shoulder from overextension, sort of like tennis elbow.  The Surgeon threw out his elbow swinging a belt at me on more than one occassion).  Usually the red, hurting hand evokes fond memories of an fun session.  Not this time.   The entire time, he was begging to be beaten like a whore.  I would never beat a whore! How about if I beat you like my landlord, or a certain unpopular, philandering math Ph.D. I know? Christ!

      Why does this make me so mad?  He’s just being honest. 🙁

       Well, writing this made me feel sad, but it’s good that I wrote it.  I’ve been thinking about it for some time.  I’ll end it on a high note by discussing my other session, with a good crossdresser whom I actually like quite a bit!

        He comes in whenever he’s visiting the City from London.  He’s an English gent who is passionate about English Lit, so we always have a lot to talk about.  He comes up with roleplays which are silly, but fun.  Yesterday he was pretending to be the CEO of a hosiery company, and I was a young woman applying for a job at that hosiery company as his personal assistant.  He brought in like two dozen pairs of stockings.  We got all dolled up and did a stocking fashion show, and put stockings on each other, and ran around talking about how stockings drove men crazy.  I got the job, lol.

       “You’re so beautiful!  I just love that basque!  You look more magnificent every time!  I would love to wear these clothes all the time!” he said.  What a sweetheart.  He really was very, very sweet.  He is one of those clients I would go on an outside date with if I met him someplace else.

       Then I made him a drink and we talked about Jude the Obscure, which is one of my favorite books.  He has great taste in books.

       One time I asked him how he got into this.  He said that he was very close to his female relatives, and when he was a little boy his two older sisters would play dress-up with him.  It was done all in fun, and he has many good memories of loving time spent with them.  As an adult, of course, it’s taken a sexual edge, but he is motivated by feelings of warmth and adoration, and not of hostility and contempt.

        This is the type of man who would step in front of a train before he’d beat a whore.

        I’m so glad that he came in.  He paid me and tipped generously, which was greatly appreciated…but he also reaffirmed my faith in humanity and in men.

      Let’s watch this charming, funny video again.   HAPPY THOUGHTS!  “R balloons sex”? lol lol and those guys walk in heels better than I do!  I like it when he’s riding the bike and holding that sword.  It’s funny.

P.S.  Someone just voted for the Surgeon!  What the fuck!  I know you read this!


4 thoughts on “A Tale of Two Sissies”

  1. I completely agree. What a high-IQ scheming manipulative mofo. Lying about his name! Bringing me an apple and saying that he was proud of me. The good memories hurt the worst.

    Whatevs. I don’t know a woman who hasn’t been taken advantage of by a smooth-talking guy.

  2. Miss Margo,

    Your account of the misogyny of the forced fem/humiliation scene seems spot on to me. Yuch.

    I found this really disturbing:
    “I don’t know a single woman in the Biz who hasn’t been assaulted by a client. I know plenty of women who have been raped by clients.”

    I have nothing to say about this. The thought of it is still settling in. I just wanted to let you know that I grasp the horror of what you describe.

    John

  3. Good morning John,

    Full disclosure: my understanding of forced fem was introduced to me via the writings of the (sadly defunct) blogger Bitchy Jones. She wrote some great pieces on it. Once I started doing this professionally and got to see a bunch of sissies up close and personal…and my understanding of patriarchy became more sophisticated…

    Misogynistic sissies (NOT the good woman-adoring sissies!) also have a very distorted view of female sexuality. They are not gay, but they have some gay tendencies. They are obsessed with prostitution and penises. It is exceedingly strange.

    (BTW, I admire Freud, but he was wrong about penis envy. Men are the ones fixated on penises, and they push it onto women.)

    I wasn’t exaggerating about the levels of assault in the Biz. By no means does it happen REGULARLY…but if you do this work long enough, you’re gonna get dinged eventually. Everyone I know has had at least one bad experience. Women who have made this a career usually have three or four.

    I have not been raped or punched/slapped, but I have been molested in a way that is criminal and would get the guy arrested a few times. I have also been menaced. I have been in rooms, face-to-face, with some very scary men.

    It is not surprising that this happens. This work is at the apex of sex and violence. Furthermore, men know that we are vulnerable. If I was raped in a session, I would never get justice. People might believe me, truly believe me…but the DA would never pursue the case and a jury would never convict. It’s not right, but that’s the way it is. I know this and the men do too.

    Thank God I’m tall. Small women get it a lot worse.

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