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I will never know, but I wouldTRANSMEN
I will never know how painful it is to get caught in my zipper. I would take the chance, if it meant I had a penis and I could pee standing up
I will never know how embarrassing it is to get an erection in public. I would happily hide my visible arousal, if it meant I could get an erection.
I will never know the disgust of having to go to the doctor for a prostate exam. I would go and get an exam every week, if it meant I had a prostate.
I will never know the agony of being kicked in the balls. I wouldn't curse or scream about it, if it meant I had balls that could be injured.
I will never need to use a condom for the reason "I don't want my partner to get pregnant". I'd never gripe about having to use a condom, if it meant I had the ability to get someone pregnant.
I will never know the moodiness, bloating, and cramps of having PMS. I would not complain and I would try to deal with the agony, if it meant I got a period.
I will never know the dread of going to a g
Gender Identity Disorder
Gender identity disorder is distressing to those who have it. It is especially difficult to cope with because it remains unresolved until gender reassignment surgery has been performed. Most people with this disorder grow up feeling rejected and out of place. Suicide attempts and substance abuse are common. Most adolescents and adults with the disorder eventually attempt to pass or live as members of the opposite sex.
Gender identity disorder may be as old as humanity. Cultural anthropologists and other scientists have observed a number of cross-gender behaviours in classical and Hindu mythology, Western and Asian classical history, and in many late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century pre-literate cultures. This consistent record across cultures and time lends support to the notion that the disorder may be, at least in part, biological in origin. Not all behavioural scientists share this conclusion, however.
Most experts agree that such temporary or episodic adopting of behaviours
Runnig From, To MeWith a blank portrait for my face, I wait for the train,
It doesnt seem to come quick enought as im running from my pain,
When it finally arrives, the people rush in,
Acting as though the first one sitting will win,
I dont know where its heading, but I go with the flow,
I start my journey without having to go,
I sit silently, not speaking a word,
Not knowing the people around me are from the same herd,
As time passes, teh faces disappear,
Taking with them my ability to fight fear,
We get to the end of the line, i sit on my seat,
I try to take one step but cant move my feet,
Take just one step, the a few more,
Why cant I move? I have the need to walk out that door,
The door closes quickly, the train takes off,
Why didnt I move? I was almost at the top,
I ran from my painful life, but am now back at the start,
The train doors opens, where I see my soul, my heart.
The Biased Help Wanted SignOnce again, the Help Wanted sign had been set up in the shop window. It sat between a teddy bear with short brown fur and a doll with Snow White's hair and green glass eyes, looking out at the street and the people passing by Leo's Toyshop.
The shop was very old; the name on it's signboard was fading slowly, and it's owner's face showed some new wrinkles every day. Supported by his wooden walking stick Leo stood behind the window display and looked out with a worried expression. Nine years the last boy had stayed with him, until he had to leave town to live with his new wife. It would be difficult to replace him.
"What about this one? She looks nice," said the doll one afternoon.
"She looks a bit like you," grumbled the bear.
"And she is useless," replied the sign.
A middle-aged woman stopped in front of the shop window to look at them. She had dark black hair and green eyes edged with lines of sorrow and short nights. "That doll looks acceptable. I think I will buy her for my niece's
Naked Except For A Fearmy sexual emotions surface, I see a ever lasting crime,
as we walk together, holding hands in the sunshine,
we walk together, hand in hand,
our relationship to date hasn't included sex, try to understand,
before I can stand naked, present myself bare,
a notion of trust must be cemented, I must know you care,
our first kiss was a meaningful day,
despite the fact I turned my head and looked away,
you smiled, placed your hand on my face,
said you loved me and I turned back and shared an embrace,
when you hold me, I begin to shake,
I see an opportunity for trust to brake,
we arrive at my house, my t-shirt you remove,
I whisper, you stated love, now you must prove,
my pants and underwear hit the ground,
the scars on my body are now easily found,
you kiss my chest and slowly head south,
a cry remains hidden behind my trembling mouth,
I lay down and watch you become bare,
you cover my body, however there is something I still ware,
my sexual emotions surface, I see a ever lasting crime,
as a c
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More