Femboi Charlie

 ... Kill it, if you have to. The Star Wars sequels are a contentious subject. But so are all Star Wars movies, even the originals. Alec Guinness himself was famously disenchanted with them, though he does offer a small nugget of wisdom that modern fans should embrace: " [...] and I find myself old and out of touch with the young. " At any rate, I'm not here to discuss how wrong people who hate the sequels are (they really are). In fact, I'm not even here to talk SW at all. It's just that this quote from Disney's Bad Boy Kylo Ren resonates with me a lot because my brain likes to remind me of embarrassing moments in my life, and boy do I wish I could follow his advice and just "let old things die." Today is different, however, because today I remembered two episodes of my past that, given what we know now, seem like some slightly twisted foreshadowing (even though, realistically, they could probably fit into a bucket of research data into the effects...

Lazy title, lazy post. Today I want to talk about two things: first, I made some SFW social medias. I made them because I want to see if I can take this identity (Charlie) beyond just smut & fantasy and build it up into something that can eventually become my main online world. So, for context, IRL I have a normal, SFW online presence. I hang out on twitch, I stream, I have a twitter, discord, friends, I shitpost, etc., but the more time I spend here, carefully exploring myself and reworking my identity, the more I want it to be real, and the more detached I become with my "normal" one.  Plus, I kind of feel like I want a fresh start, you know? Try new things, make new mistakes, but I don't want to change what I already have because it's too close to my IRL identity. Also because I want to still have that "normal"-ness there waiting for me, acting as a safety net in case this experiment crashes and burns. So I made them. They're out there waiting. I ...

I've written and re-written this post about what I identify as more times than I can count with two fingers. The problem is it always, without fail, falls out of scope. I go off on tangents about what things mean, what's right and what's wrong, and what consensual non-consent means; but I never actually say what I identify as in any practically useful manner. I struggle trying to define myself, and I think it's about time I accept the fact that I don't know what the heck I am. In the real world, I'm a woman; when the lights go down, I'm a mess. It's half indecision, half fear of commitment. There's so many things I want to be, so many kinks I want to explore, so many roles I want to try on. When I allow myself sexual freedom, I'm like a kid in a toy store. Another mistake I've made, when re-writing this post, is explaining my history. Those of you who care, have probably been here from the start (and honestly should probably join those who ...

 "There he* goes again, talking about his* love for jockstraps. Again." - You, reading this post's title.

 So, I may have mentioned this before, ~I'm totes not sure~ but I'm pretty gay now. Okay, okay, sorry, I know that's all I write about, but goshdarnit it's something that makes me so dang happy that I can't help but gush about it, okay?? (Also, it's kind of what this whole blog's about, anyways.) What I haven't discussed before, however, is what my "grounding fantasy" is. I mean, I've written about it. But those writings either end up deleted, or in drafts. It's just a very difficult thing to write about because it's so personal, so intimate, and so exciting that it's easy to get lost in tangents without end. But now that I can't shut up about my obsession with jockstraps on twitter ( seriously ... it's kind of a problem ... send help ...) I figured this would be as good a time as any to explore both things. HOWEVER, before diving into what happens within my fantasy, I want to explain first what a "grounding fantasy...

  We did it, internet! I spent May all locked up!* *At least one hour/day (for health purposes, but in practice it was at least 12 hours/day) It was fun, fulfilling, and very emasculating, but it wasn't without problems. And with things in my state returning back to normal as we recover from this pandemic (which means we've gotta go back to our office *insert "thanks, I hate it" meme* ), well, chastity has become increasingly more challenging. Especially since I've barely managed to make a dent in my weight, so chastity-friendly skirts and dresses still won't fit. So I'm taking a break from semi-permanent chastity. I just can't deal with *having to be* locked up at all times, it's too much pressure when it's not possible without risking my health, and incredibly demoralizing (like, seriously, it's bad). It's also getting very expensive, because my bits keep disagreeing with my cages, so I keep buying different ones (shapes, sizes, mate...

A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was performing oral sex on a vagina (which belonged to a ciswoman). It wasn't for my pleasure, someone had ordered me to do it and as a good sissy I had to obey. It wasn't great. It wasn't a nightmare, either (at least not yet), but it was pretty unenjoyable for me. It was a perfectly good vagina - nothing wrong with it at all - but it still felt wrong. I didn't like its taste, I didn't like, well, anything about it. I still did a great job, and I managed to fake pleasure, but I was hoping to never go through it again. I don't remember what happened afterwards, I know I got praised for "doing such a good job," but that's about it. Regardless, I'm happy I had this dream. It's my subconscious accepting that I'm a faggot, that I don't want women anymore, that what I want is cock. It reaffirms that my treatment is working. It's a wonderful thing. Now, I'm still struggling with shifting my prefer...