I need to be whipped again soon so bad Im thinking of doing it to myself so grateful for the cruising party in two weeks because otherwise Id be lost with nothing in sight

I wither away without frequent intense sex which is why I need to collect boys

Pulled twisting and kicking across the asphalt by the collar of my leather jacket 135lbs of harness gear and body dragged like nothing by muscles pumping with lust and adrenaline until he lets go and I collapse into the dirt and try to struggle to my feet but theres nowhere for me to go and we both know it, kick sends me back down, and now theres a scuff on the elbow where the jacket took the impact of the cement for me that I still look at and lick and shiver over

All I want to accomplish in my life is publish lots of erotica leather archive job and surround myself with butches

Men on grindr inviting me to the leathergear social

Im trapped in a constant state of distracting want so desperate it makes me nauseous

Ive been femme crossdressing for a couple days which is always a lot of fun even though I would rather do it with a flat chest and I like having the luxury of being able to pass as male in daily life, but it's a sexual game to reveal it to those who least expect it, to the butch boyfriend who wonders WHAT ARE YOU? seeing my boy first and then my testo-femme, reveal my lace, thinking so THAT's why he behaves the way he does, why he teases me the way he does, there was something else there the whole time, under the boxers and masculine posturing ... when they discover my past stone it clicks immediately. it even feels right to be stared at in public in my drag because people are generally convinced I'm a male transvestite and I know that my androgyny is something no one else can pull off the way I do. I want to be identified only by my subversion either way

Sorry I tried to switch blogs and then realized it wasnt worthwhile ignore that

All I need now is a leather jockstrap or chest harness and to get gangfucked in butch daddy's hotel room, I wonder if him and all his friends have it in them to use me the way I want them to, in leather military hats and tall black boots and opaque police-glasses with thick jaws and heavy hands, smokers' voices and dirty staches. My near-nakedness is made even more inferior and provocative in contrast to their dense, black biker jackets which leave no skin exposed and no vulnerability whatsoever so when they push me to my knees, grab my face roughly, force me to look up at them, all I see is impenetrable leather and them grinning, completely secure in their dominance. The only visible flesh is their hard packers pressing out of their unbuckled leather jeans, tapping cruelly against my lips, my teeth, my tongue. From the expression on my face they can tell that my reverence and my anxiety to please will let them take advantage of me, bruise me first and then use me, desperate for the sadistic fuck they'll force me to take as a reward, or as punishment, or just for their own pleasure, and although I struggle to pull myself out of their fists when they finally grab me we all know that whining and refusing is futile and I don't stand a chance, thirty pounds less at least than any of them and pubescent in comparison to their broad shoulders and arms, but when they bring out the leather cuffs and their intentions become obvious I put up a fight like a cornered animal just to feel those hands on me, pushing me into place, slapping me into exhausted submission. By the time I've been pulled open, face down and restrained, and the thick strap pushes in too fast, all it takes is the realization that they're ignoring my strain of discomfort, that they're going to do it anyways even when I flinch and gasp, and suddenly my resistance is gone and they thrust in like punching a hole in the wall. I need to hear butch panting and groaning above me in exertion and satisfaction at the fact that when he looks down he sees a boy pinned and writhing underneath him gritting teeth against moaning or crying or begging, at his complete disposal, watching his own cock come out glistening before shoving it back in, absurdly permissive hole at odds with the facade of refusal. They know I love it because despite it all I eventually stop struggling, and even more telling I suck on it when they force their fingers into my mouth down to the knuckle, I'm so good for letting them use me like this, just once I need to hear a big butch say the words to me and I promise I'll behave forever.