I’d love to play a historical romance where I play either a FTM trans man or a female to male crossdresser who joins a traditionally male profession and finds romance with you, a more traditionally presenting woman! I have a few ideas where this could go!

Wild West:

Just after the American Civil War, I’m a discharged Union Army veteran, looking to make my fortune in the wilds of the Montana territory or California. With a lever action rifle, a revolver and my horse, I head west. Are you a settler? A First Nations woman? A prostitute at one of the saloons? Either way we get caught up in fights with outlaws, dealing with settler aggression and having lots of steamy sex!

The Golden Age of Piracy:

I’m a crew member on a pirate ship, searching for plunder, fighting the British, Dutch and Spanish, and finding love along the way! Are you a commandant or governors daughter? Another pirate? A prostitute in port? Either way we steal from anyone who crosses our path and have lots of steamy sex!

The slums of Dickens London:

I’m an Irish gangster in 1850s london. Protection rackets, smuggling, opium, illegal betting, anything to make a dirty pound! Are you a high society woman slumming? A Chinese or Indian immigrant trying to make ends meet? One of the first female police constables? Either way, we stick it to the Empire and have lots of steamy sex! (Sensing a theme?)

If you’re interested in any of those, or have a different idea, please send me a DM not a chat so we can discuss characters, kinks and limits and how we’d like this to go!

Here’s a sample of my writing so you can get an idea of what I’d like!

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I’d gotten the nickname ‘Baby Face’ because I couldn’t grow a mustache, but it didn’t matter to the rest of my crew, because I could put the frighteners onto a shop keep with the best of them. I swaggered into your pub in the Irish slums one afternoon, wearing my bowler hat and tight vest that kept my chest hidden.

“Hello love,” I say leaning across the bar. “A pint of stout and this weeks protection,” I tell you. No one in the bar looks up or dares meet my eye as I do. They have all heard about the barkeep up the road who’s now short a finger when he didn’t pay up in time. “Any of the coppers been bothering you? We had a nice talking to with the sergeant, so you shouldn’t have to worry.” The sergeant had been bribed of course, making sure that he and his left your bar alone. “And when are you going to let me buy your pretty eyes a pint myself?”

I give you my most charming grin, though it’s not exactly a request.