Twice As Nice

September is Bi Visibility Month which intrigues me because before I met my Master I very much considered myself 100% straight. Yes, I spent a lot of time correcting people who assumed I wasn’t because I had short hair and 90% of my friends weren’t straight but it never occurred to me that I might not be either.

I did spend as much time looking at women as men but having gone to an all girls school where being a ‘lemon’ or ‘lezzer’ was the second worst sin possible after masturbation, I assumed this fascination with women’s looks was an extension of my love of make up and fashion and staring was the analogue version of Pinterest or YouTube channels for eyeliner ideas.

Combined with my (apparently unusual) habit of rarely fantasising about future sexual experiences where I picture things I want to have happen but replaying previous sexual moments, I was confused into straightness by never picturing myself having sex with those women I thought about so much.

I was also aware of many of the myths and stereotypes around bisexual women and even when there was the odd occasion where I could have experimented had I chosen to (in hindsight I’ve been on more than a few dates with women I didn’t clock as dates at the time) I didn’t want to be that awful lipstick lesbian with a taste for tourism. Curiosity killed the cat and you shouldn’t play with someone’s pussy just for the experience.

As well as not wanting to dabble, I didn’t want to be the straight girl having a threesome with a guy and his girlfriend because she was bi or poly curious and he wanted to watch her with a girl but wouldn’t be keen if that threesome was MMF instead. I turned my Master down on that opportunity with another woman (who wasn’t Princess) on more than one occasion in fact leading to the only disagreement in our relationship so far.

I’m not sure what changed my mind. Maybe it was when a close friend at the time accused me of co-opting her bisexuality when I talked to her about starting to think about fucking my Master and Princess together and it pissed me off that it didn’t even occur to her that this might be more than me wanting to perform for the male gaze. The fact that her negativity put that idea in my own head definitely surprised and intrigued me and made me ready to try something new.

The only other thing holding me back was the fear of not knowing what I was doing and being a beginner again. There was certain amount of my sexual identity wrapped up in really knowing my way round a cock and while I was certainly learning all kinds of new sexual skills as my Master trained me, it was it was slutty enhancement rather than anything else.

In the end having overthought the whole thing so much the first time I had sex with a woman turned out to be life changing but none of the things I had worried about. My lack of experience wasn’t a hinderance and my enthusiasm surprised even me. That tiny fear that I wouldn’t like cunt after all was misplaced as I was more comfortable immediately with a woman I had doubted I could sleep with than many of the men I’d actively pursued over the years.

It helps that the first woman I had sex with turned out to be absolutely the right woman for me and that I’ve had all the opportunities I could have wished for to develop my relationship with her and Sir. I still don’t know how much I want to fuck other women because right now I don’t want to fuck anyone at all who isn’t Princess or my Master.

I’m not sure which would have surprised me more if you’d told me about it three years ago: sex with a woman or only wanting to fuck one man. I’m not sure I’d have believed you about either frankly when I first met my Master but now I was reading this piece from Cosmo about what I’ve learned from sleeping with women as well as men and agreeing with everything in it.

Actually that’s a change in itself for me not hating a sex article in Cosmopolitan….


Twice As Nice


A little intellectual rigour for the Bank Holiday for you with this fantastic podcast on femme identity and how that is received in society. I listened to it today while doing some washing up and I’m sure there can’t be that many people who’ve had a personal breakthrough while washing a mug but this did that for me.

I think I’ve mentioned before that I considered myself straight before I met my Master and Princess and he often teases me how well I’ve taken to lesbianism. I had quite honestly never questioned the gender of the people I wanted to fuck before I met Princess and so much of queerness seems to be about that sense of not knowing who you were. So if I’d never doubted my love of dick, I must be straight right?

But I have from as long as I remember agonised over my identity of how I come across to people. Instinctually from early childhood I loved traditionally feminine things like make up but hated wearing the ‘good frocks’ and patent shoes I was put in for the equivalent of Sunday best.

My favourite outfit as a five year old was a pair of knickerbockers and I wanted to combine the best bits of tomboyishness like running around or being around horses with painting my nails. At eighteen I chopped all my hair off and it felt like finding myself even though I did it so I could fuck my (very handsome) hairdresser. I’ve never grown it out again in the next two decades.

80% of me loved standing out by never shaking that girly-tomboy mix off with my shaved head, perfect painted nails, eyeliner to next week, sluttiness and pairs of shorts. But the other 20% felt like I was failing at being a woman.

‘Real’ women had long blonde hair and wore knee length skirts and red lipstick and ‘no make up’ make up that looked natural. They wore high heels and floral prints and dated suitable men. And they were rewarded for it by not catcalled all the time in the street or told they were beautiful and grown up.

Any time I tried to be more like those women, I felt miserable as sin and simply unable to do it. Without my eyeliner I felt like a wall of bare plaster. When I wore heels, they were never kitten heels (I once left a pair in a cab in Glasgow no less) but four inch high gold knee boots and my skirts barely grazed my arse.

I had a job dressing other women to look ‘nice’ and stereotypically feminine and gave up it up to teach men how to wear make up, work on a gay fetish magazine and spend my time with drag queens. I just assumed I was very bad at being a grown up and having responsibilities.

And then listening to that podcast I realised that I just didn’t know I was femme and without knowing about the queer identity of femmeness, I couldn’t even think about not being straight. Slow learner as per usual.

I’d been fascinated by women for years in their femmeness and femininity and thought it was just their outfits I liked but I realised that all the women I feel some kind of pull towards are tend to me those femme women (and most of my male friends tend to be very in touch with their feminine side.)

I love to look at women with short boyish hair with heavy make up or wearing a suit with nothing underneath. I like men in tights and eyeliner. The two tie together and this identity I couldn’t outrun but felt wasn’t ‘normal’ linked the two. And finally hearing that validation of femme on that podcast made my lack of straightness make more sense than fucking Princess does in some ways.

It might be a weird way to reassess yourself but it made even more sense when I spent the evening having dinner with my Master and Princess and watching ‘But I’m a Cheerleader‘ and discovering all those close intense female friendships I had until now lacked one thing. And it wasn’t my abandoned vegetarianism…