ok, admittedly, this is reposted from my tumblr from a while ago. But it's still true, i've never posted here.

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I’ve never actually written a post on here, and it’s not a part of some plan to start doing so, but writing on here is part two of a dare, so here we are.

I’m now safe in my apartment, gasping for breath, sweating, and dressed head to toe like a crossdressed hussy. 

You may then be wondering what part one is. 

I had the day off from work, and having had a rough week and little ambitions, I decided i’d spend a nice day getting a little high, watching a little porn, and generally being sort of a pervert. What else is a guy supposed to do with a little alone time? 

But it’s never enough for me to just be a slut, I feel the need to share my slutiness with the world. So I texted my good friend Bucky who said she was happy I was getting comfortable as a nice little bimbo, and thought I should enjoy my day off. That’s what friends are for. But Bucky also had a suggestion. Something along the lines of a dare. And that dare was to walk 4 blocks to the coffee shop, order her a coffee with milk and sugar, and then walk the additional 2 blocks to her place of work and give it to her. Then I could go home. The caveat, of course, was that I would have to be dressed head to toe like a girl. 

I fidgeted. I fussed. I smoked a little more. And reluctantly, I told her I would get dressed as pretty as I could and then see how I feel. 

After some make up and some wardrobe change, I had to make the decision. it was scary. I texted Bucky who politely bullied me into it. And then I took to the streets.

I was wearing a black wig with bangs, pink lipstick, blue sunglasses, a black dress with a blue, punk rock coat, and two pairs of tights. I put on a scarf to be even more obscure.

it was the middle of the day, so i knew the streets would be pretty empty, but i do live in a busy neighborhood in a busy city, so the chances of NO ONE seeing me was slim. In my mind, the route became a map of potential horrors, and I pondered over every inch of the walk as i headed down the stairs. The first obstacle, of course, was my own house; i had to get as fast as i could away from my door before anyone saw me go in or out. and fortunately, nary a neighbor was in sight. 

The next obstacle was just up the street, the main intersection. lots of people, lots of potential people i know. I got to the corner and froze, suddenly aware that cars exist, and i’d occasionally have to wait for them. My body started twitching. I made it across, and into a quiet side street. 

I kept walking, where mostly I just stared at my phone so I didn’t have to look around. The next obstacle was the barbershop where a guy i sort of know works. if he saw me go by and knew it was me, well, he knows me a lot better than i know him. 

the next street was much busier with lots of cars up and down it, but very few people. but i walked in sheer panic because i was approaching the dunkin donuts. i tried to practice speaking like a girl, or at least pushing the boundaries of androgynous. i didn’t need to look like a woman, not a perfect woman, but i wanted to at least be someone who made you think twice. but i never practice my voice work. i tried the order out loud over and over, in different octaves and tones. i tried to be louder, and couldn’t. 

I arrived at the dunkin in horror to see about 5 guys, hanging around waiting for their orders. in my mind, they were big tough well worked out business men, though i pretty much stared at the floor the whole time. i waited for my turn in sheer terror, and eventually stepped out to order. 

I tried, I really did. but having dry mouth, i sort of just squeaked out a neutral toned rasp, with just a little hint of sweetness. I got a weird look from the lady who worked there, but not like a… mean look. just sort of a “hey i think something’s going on here,” look. 

I took the hot coffee and got out. i walked for half a block before i realized it was crazy hot and i haven’t moved my hand in a while. i spilled some.

Finally, I made it to Bucky’s job, where she invited me inside. we stood quietly, she told me i looked pretty and that she was proud of me, she took her coffee and then some pictures of me, and i left. 

On the way home I felt like the obstacles were less frightening, but I did have to work hard to go through them again. 

The whole time i felt sort of in this heightened state of panic, where time moves funny and your thoughts come quickly. But i thought about some practical things, about how i should try and move my hips, about the obstacles ahead. I also thought about the worst case scenarios. Someone calling me a fag, chasing me, yelling at me. 

Which made me sort of go down this moral hole where i weighed the moral effects of my being cross dressed out in the community. I’m not trans so i worry that i’m belittling their difficult lifestyle changes, and that my act might be bringing kink into other people’s lives without consent. But on the other hand, i wasn’t wearing anything daring or scandalous, it was the kind of clothes women in my city wear all the time. And though I’m not trans, I do have a touch of genderqueer, and I don’t see any reason that clothes have to be gendered in the first place, men can where women’s clothes, women can wear men’s, to hell with anyone who judges about it. But then i thought, yeah but if i got beat up or something it wouldn’t be as a martyr, it would be as a pervert. This is definitely sexual. And then i thought, and it was pretty fun in a sexy way, so fuck it. 

I didn’t realize how scary it was until i got home and closed the door behind me and started having uncontrolled heavy breathing and sudden sweats. Apparently it was pretty scary in that primal way where you don’t even see it as fear. 

In conclusion, yes, I’m a dirty slut. But also for you folks who wanna cross dress and not be viewed as a pervert, i promise, you don’t. you’re awesome. 

but mostly, yeah. i’m kind of a sissy slut. 

Ok, part two done.