What Is Citi Kittie's Gender?

I've never felt like the other boys. I've always felt different from them, from as far back as I can remember. But I've never had an overwhelming feeling of having the wrong body. I read about transsexuals and how many or most felt like they had the wrong body, but their stories didn't resonate for me. And for years I thought the only options were male or female and some people were transsexuals, meaning, in my mind, that they transitioned physically from one to the other.

Because of my limited view on the topic of gender I tried to ignore it. I identified my sexuality as bisexual and let it go at that.

Then, in the last couple of years, I started learning about transgender and that transgender could mean more than just feeling like a girl in a boy's body, or vice versa. It could mean you're a boy who's a boy in a different way from most of the other boys. Or a girl but in a way that's different from most of the other girls. Or it could be a boy in a girls body, or vice versa.

So I started exploring my gender more.

Sometimes I see gender very biologically. And I think that I'm a guy because I have a penis. And just because my personality traits are different from most men in my culture doesn't detract from the fact that I'm a guy. Because I have a penis, by definition, guys also have the personality traits that I have. From this perspective, I'm a guy, just not like most of the other guys in my culture.

But other times I see it more culturally. That there are a set of traits that define male and female and I have more traits like a female than a male, so therefore, I'm female. I know I feel more at home with most women. From this perspective I feel like a girl with penis.

I know I still don't want to transition. I really salute the people who have done that. I'm not sure I could handle it. And I'm not sure I still wouldn't feel different. I think I'd be a pretty queer girl.

Then I learned about GenderQueer, which Wikipedia defines as, "a catchall term for gender identities other than man or woman. People who identify as genderqueer may think of themselves as being both a man and a woman, as being neither a man nor a woman, or as falling completely outside the gender binary."

I was like AH HA! I'm GenderQueer. I really enjoy playing with gender, gender bending, and exploring various other genders. One thing I really like about the Dark Odyssey group is that it's a safe place to not only explore my sexuality, but also my gender.

And I generally say that I'm 'out' as being GenderQueer because I see it as such an integral part of my personality. Most people who get to know me learn pretty quickly that I'm not like most other guys. And even at work, I'll make jokes or what not that let people know I'm different.

Like one of my female coworkers was trying to open a beer bottle and couldn't get it. I said, "Do you need a man to help you with that? Because I can call Alex, I think he's here today." Hee hee. It really amuses me.

And there have been times where I've been basically accepted as a woman. I worked at a Girl Scout camp and was one of just two guys on staff. The other counselors, and the campers, all accepted me as a girl. The campers even called me "she" and "her" and sometimes even "mom." I wasn't trying to present as a woman, and sometimes didn't shave and had a bit of a beard. And I know some of the campers were just used to calling everyone "she" since there were so few guys. But I know some of them say me as a woman.

So I say I'm GenderQueer and Transgender and sometimes I'll say I'm a girl with a penis. Sometimes I appropriate the term BOI, which more usually refers to a queer woman presenting more as a man. And lately I've been reading about MTFTM. A man who is really a woman, who presents more as a man. It's all really fascinating.

In my triad we sometimes joke that my Mistress is the girl with the looks, my Miss is the girl with the smarts, and I'm the girl with the penis. Obviously my Miss is beautiful, and my Mistress is very smart, but it's amusing to us and makes us feel like super heroes.

Triggers and Safewords: A Tale of Two Blowjobs

There's a complex relationship between abuse and arousal. I think the first books I read on the subject were Nancy Friday's, where she talked about how some people who were abused will later want to play out those same roles as a way to take control of the situation. And get really turned on as well.

I'm still not so sure about my childhood, but I know I was in an emotionally abusive relationship as an adult. So it doesn't surprise me that humiliation scenes really turn me on.

The thing is, for a scene to be really hot it has to be fake. Because if it's real, then it's abuse. It's like when you go to a slasher movie. You'll feel a lot of fear. But if you know it's fake, then you can enjoy the fear. If someone pulls a real knife on you in an alley, then it's real. So you feel the fear, but it's not fun.

During camp I had two blowjob scenes that involved humiliation. I didn't negotiate before either. Which can be a bad thing. It means you aren't sure what you are getting yourself into. It means the other person doesn't know your boundaries. It means you aren't sure what the other person has in mind, or where they are coming from.

It means, you may not be sure if what is happening is fake, or real.

One of them was at the brothel, where I was hired to blow another whore. I wrote about this earlier. I went out on the lawn and begged to suck his cock. He called me names and I told him I was his naughty little girl.

He grabbed my head, shoved his cock down my throat, and called me a bitch. And a lot of other nasty words.

But a couple of times he leaned down and, in a sweet and caring voice, asked if I was doing OK. That helped me know that what was happening was fake. Which meant that I could enjoy it.

When a BDSM scene goes really well you end up in a place called sub space or top space or The Happy Place. When a scene goes bad, I end up in a place I call The Bad Place.

Things are not so good in The Bad Place. As the name might imply.

After this scene I was really flying in subspace. I was super-chatty. In fact, I couldn't shut up and had to go for a walk to calm myself down.

The second blowjob was on a different night. I'd just met the woman and we had chatted briefly in the dungeon. We were joking around and she seemed fun and a bit snarky.

We walked down to the sexorama for an orgy. At the orgy I suggested a friend suck off the woman. She did and it was pretty hot. The woman was sort of cooing to the girl who was sucking her off. She petted her head and seemed to really enjoy being blown.

It really turned me on to watch, and I really wanted to blow the woman too.

When they were done we went out on the porch and I asked if I could blow her. She sort of looked me up and down and said I could if I wanted to. So I got on my knees and started sucking her cock.

While I was working her she made a few humiliating comments. At one point she asked if I was enjoying it because it wasn't doing anything for her. She made a few other, similar comments, indicating I wasn't doing a very good job. And then she chatted with the people standing next to her on the porch, completing ignoring me and what I was doing.

And it got me wondering. Were we doing a humiliation scene? Or were her emotions genuine? Was she into it and wanted to humiliate me? Or was she trying to be deliberately mean and dismissive?

We hadn't negotiated. We hadn't discussed a safeword. So I had no way to know what was going on.

And really, I didn't need to safeword in that situation, I could have just stopped sucking her. I wasn't tied up. I wasn't physically restrained in any way. I could have stood up and walked off.

And part of me wanted to do that. But part of me wanted to get her to like it. To do a good job blowing her.

But that didn't happen. She never showed any sign that she was enjoying it. And progressively paid less attention to me, until there wasn't any connection between the two of us. Aside from my mouth on her cock. So eventually I just stopped.

After this scene I think I was in The Bad Place. I felt withdrawn and a bit ashamed of myself, though I wasn't sure why. Another feature of The Bad Place is that I am super critical of myself. Partly I was feeling like I had done something wrong. Like I shouldn't have done the scene, or I should have negotiated first.

And partly I was feeling like I was unattractive, undesirable, as in, why would she want me to suck her off? Who was I for thinking she'd want me to do that?

I went back in the sexorama and just sat by myself, listening to other people have orgasms.

I'm not saying she abused me, but I think the scene ended up being abusive. I now think that, if you are unsure if what you are doing is a scene or not, then it's not a scene.

I saw her the next day and she was chatty and pleasant to me. So I guess she didn't want to cause me harm the night before.

But I'm still unsure.

Slutty Kittie in the Village Voice

You know that this slutty kitty likes to get around. But I never thought I'd wind up in the Village Voice!

Oh, it's very exciting for such a little kitty.

I'm in Tristan Taormino's column Pucker Up. I'm mentioned by my scene name, Pink Pet. And, since I'm tooting my own horn, I'm sure you'll recognize in the column, from my previous blogs, my servicing of Wendy, the menu I created, and Tristan's "hiring" me to service another whore.

In addition to drawing attention to myself, I mention this because I think it's awesome that she refers to me using both male and female pronouns. I feel so gender outlaw. Wow!

A Night at the Brothel, Part 2

I was “working” the brothel at Dark Odyssey summer camp, dressed in a corset and tight mini skirt, fishnet thigh highs and little leather, high heel boots. After several clients, I was feeling like a very naughty girl.

And then the host of the event, Tristan, and her partner walked up and asked for a menu. They read it over together, whispering behind the card.

What did they want? Did they want to play with me? Did they know someone they were going to recommend play with me? I was almost shaking in anticipation.

Then she told my Miss, who was acting as my pimp, that she wanted to hire me. I couldn't believe it. She quickly said that she was hiring me to play with another whore and suggested we go outside where it was cooler.

Who was the other whore? I tried looking around but couldn't see who it was in the mass of people filling the brothel.

My Mistress was on the porch and she joined us as we headed outside. And that's when I saw him. The other whore. He was short and thin, and oh so hot. He had an eager, hungry look in his eyes.

We arrived on the lawn in front of the row of cabins. Our client said she wanted me to give the guy a blow job. I got on my knees, my fishnets digging into my skin. It's a great feeling, down there, feeling the bite of fabric, reminding me of my place.

The guy, I didn't even know his name, smiled down at me as he unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was non-bio, long, not too thick, hard and ready. He pulled out a condom and told me to put it on.

As I unrolled the condom down his cock our client leaned in and said, “And I want some begging.” Tapping the menu she added, “It's on the menu!”

I looked up at him. “Please let me suck your cock. Oh god, please.”

“You really want it?”

“Oh yes, please. Please! I need it down my throat.”

I don't know how many people were watching as I leaned forward and licked his cock. I licked, I sucked, I begged some more, and then I slid my mouth down the shaft.

I moved one hand to his crotch, behind the base of his cock, to try and rub him and transmit feeling more directly to his clit. As I sucked I made sure I was rocking there as well. He grabbed my head and told me I was doing a good job as he rammed in further down my throat.

Opening my throat, I took his cock down further, deep throating him. I felt the familiar pain and thrill of having something so big so deep inside my body. I gagged. My eyes teared up. I pulled back and let some spit drip off my lips as I stared up at him.

“What a good bitch. Take it, take it.”

“I need your cock, I need it so bad.”

From the corner of my eyes I could see lots of people were watching. I didn't care. I did care. I wanted everyone watching, and yet it was just the two of us. On the lawn. This was where I belonged, servicing someone, getting him off.

He rammed it down my throat again and again. Jamming it into me. Grunting. Telling me I was a good whore. Then he paused, looked down with concern on his face and in a soft voice asked, “Are you OK?”

I paused and looked up. I told him I was fine, it was going great. He smiled and then jammed it back down my throat, all aggression and need once more.

Finally he started to spasm and jerk and held my head tight to his cock. He moaned and held my head still.

“Oh, that was good,” he smiled.

That's when Tristan said she wanted a snowball ending. The guy and I looked at each other. We looked at his non-bio cock. We looked back at our client. Huh?

“Fake it!” she said.

Well, the customer is always right. So back we went. He declared that he did need to cum again so I slid my mouth down his cock.

I pulled back and looked up at him. He smiled again, one hand on the base of his cock, one on the back of my head, ready to shove it into me once more.

“Am I your dirty little girl?” I asked. Just saying it made me feel weak.

His eyes lit up. “Yes! Yes you are! And now I'm that much closer to cumming!”

That did it, I was gone. I was a girl. On her knees. Sucking a guy's cock. I was his girl, his bitch, alive only to get him off.

I took it deeper. All the way down. I gagged. I drooled. I wanted as much as he could give. I wanted whatever he had, deep in my throat, deep in my body.

He looked gone too. He threw his head back. He yelled. He grunted. And then he rammed it further down.

“Aaaaah.”

He pulled his cock out of my mouth and pulled me up a bit. We kissed. I think we both looked over to our client to make sure she was pleased.

She smiled and clapped. I collapsed.

He disappeared into the crowd.

My Mistress and Miss rushed over to help me up. I asked them to take me back to the cabin. I was done. Nothing could top that.

My throat was sore, my knees hurt, my outfit was askew.

Back at the cabin, I sat on the porch with some friends and babbled on and on about what a great time I'd had. I'm sure I was a bore, but I couldn't shut up. I was still flying. Still a naughty girl that had just sucked off a hot guy. Wow.

And I still didn't know his name.

Where's Citi Kittie Now?

As you know, your slutty kitty likes to get around. To naughty parties and sexy conventions and adult bookstores and coffee shops. (What? This kitty loves a creamy latte.) But did you know that Citi Kittie has been getting around the blogosphere too?

Here's one place I snuck off too. The beautiful and sexy and wonderful Sarah Sloane's blog. She quoted this frisky kittie's thoughts about what it is that makes someone sexy. A topic I think about often.

The post is called Sexy is as Sexy Does. Her post also appears over at Best Sex Bloggers.com, which, I have to say, if you aren't reading you probably should be. But if you're reading me, then you are probably quite well-read in the sex blogosphere.

A Night at the Brothel, Part 1

Being a sex-worker is a long-time fantasy of mine. I actually discussed it with my high school guidance counselor. He was very rational about it and we discussed the pros and cons. The biggest con being that it is illegal. So that has certainly held me back. I have no interest in breaking the law.

So when I was asked to "work" in the brothel at Dark Odyssey Summer Camp I, actually, had a few reservations.

I love the idea of being seen as a sex object or a fetish object. That is a real turn on for me. But I like to have some sort of connection with the person. I want the person to want me for me. Or at least want my body because they get turned on by it.

For example, gang bang scenes don't do much for me. If the woman is laying there letting any cock take her, then she doesn't really care if it is me. That just leaves me cold.

But at the same time, I like creating situations that break down the barriers that keep people from connecting sexaully. At a club or even a play party, there is usually a certain amount of small talk and flirting that takes place. Oh, you know this kitty loves flirting, but I also love when that barrier is removed and you can get right to the lust.

Another reason I enjoy being seen as a sex object is that it reverses the traditional gender roles. Being male-bodied, I'm often expected to make the first move. I'm genderqueer and my sexuality is much more femme, so I often prefer to be propositioned, as opposed to making the proposition. In general this doesn't usually work out. But being a whore would allow me to take on a more receptive role, a more traditionally female role. I saw that it could help me feel more like a girl and be accepted as a girl.

At the same time, I'm not a real heavy player, so I was concerned about boundaries and safety.

The madam told me that many of the whores have dates set up ahead of time. And some of them even make up business cards.

Once she said that, I realized I could use my time in the brothel as a way to suggest play dates with people. I often have a hard time transitioning from flirting to suggesting a play date. I get shy. Or I worry I'll offend. Or that I'll be seen as creepy. Or I just overthink it.

This would be a great way to let people know I was interested in playing with them. I could give them a card and tell them to come by when I was working, if they were interested.

So I made business cards with my name on one side and an appointment card on the back. I put little stickers on them: pink hearts and flowers and cowboy boots and the like.

On Friday and Saturday I gave out a few cards and told people I'd be at the brothel. My Miss wanted to join in too, so she decided to be my pimp. That way, if someone showed up that I didn't want to play with, she could just tell them no. My Mistress was also floating around, ready to assist if there was a problem. There was also the madam and security for the brothel. I was a very safe kitty.

I also came up with a menu of activities I'd be comfortable doing with most people. Again, I'm not a real heavy player and I was worried I'd blank on things to do while working.

On the menu that night was:

• Making out
• Making out with fondling/groping
• Mutual masturbation
• Body worship
• Oral pleasure
• Begging
• Tickling
• Light spanking
• Watersports

The brothel was in the sexorama, in the fucking room. The lights were low, the sheets and drapes were dark red. People were milling about, a few were already having sex when I arrived. I was dressed in a corset and tight mini skirt, fishnet thigh highs and little leather, high heel boots.

Things started slow. My booth had a sex swing. I stood there, with my hands on the swing, smiling at the customers. The room filled up with people quickly but no one was talking to me. I started to wonder what was worse, having people I'm not interested in proposition me. Or having no one proposition me.

But soon people started talking to me, and I'd hand them a menu. It allowed the customers and I to discuss what was on the menu versus someone trying to talk me into something I didn't feel comfortable doing. And the customers found it amusing and fun that I had a menu.

Finally a friend looked over my menu and said, "Let's make out."

That got me really excited. She's super hot and crazy sexy. And the fact that she just walked up and said, "Let's make out" was such a turn on.

We started kissing and then I groped her some, my fingers making their way up her skirt. It was a tight hobble skirt, but I managed to get my fingers rubbing her between her legs, over her clothing. Oh, I loved kissing her and rubbing her. She was responding nicely. I think I was doing a good job.

I really get kind of high providing service and making people happy. She seemed to really enjoy it as well.

After her it was a bit of a blur. I had a steady stream of customers for almost an hour and 45 minutes. The first woman's boyfriend showed up. He's very hot and has extremely soft skin. He's delighful to rub and kiss and touch. We made out and then I sat him in the sling and got his pants off. I sucked his cock for a while. He didn't cum, but said he really enjoyed it.

A very hot dyke stopped by and had me suck off her non-bio cock. I love deep throating and I'm very attracted to her, so that was really hot for me. And it was a huge ego-boost that she wanted to play with me.

A hot woman stopped by with a huge cock. It was so big it couldn't take a regular condom. Luckily, she brought her own. I did my best to suck her off.

Throughout the night, I really tried to emphasize the role-play aspect of being a whore. And me being a girl. While I was with this one woman and her massive cock, I kept yelling out, "Oh my god, you're so big!" The brothel was pretty quiet, so it was rather dramatic. Or at least noisey. It also got her to say things like, "Take it bitch," which I found really hot.

Another woman I flirt with at every event stopped by and we fooled around.

And a cute boy showed up for a spanking. I like spanking in the sex rooms and making out in the dungeon. It's just fun to flaunt conventions like that.

Because they were all people I knew, my pimp didn't charge a lot for me. And that was fine. The amount of money didn't really do much for me. It was fake money anyway, so the amount really didn't matter. But the idea of exchanging something for my sexual services, wow, that was hot.

So my pimp, standing there, taking money from people and then me servicing them. Gods. It was fantastic. I felt like such a naughty girl. It was a great night.

And then the host of the event and her partner walked up and asked for a menu. And that's when my night went from a 10 to an 11.

To be continued . . .

Kittie in the Citi is Now Syndicated for LiveJournal

For all my LiveJournal users, you can now have Kittie in the Citi appear right on your LJ. Just click the link below and then select Add.

http://syndicated.livejournal.com/citikittie/

Enjoy!