The Munch

Orange Latex Vest
I’ll wear the boobs next time. X
19 May 2017

It’s been about 6 months since I last visited the local munch. I was nervous this week going alone. Partly because it had been a long time since I had seen any of the local kink crowd but also because it was the first time Gypsy has ventured bravely out alone.

I wore vinyl tight trousers. Pink knickers. An orange latex vest which really helped give me a feminine shape with my new boobs. Very subtle makeup and a purple open blouse. I wore flat sparkly sandals and did my nails. Took 3 hours epilating, shaving and getting everything ready. Even washed, conditioned and dried my favourite dark wig. The look was perfect but there was a problem.

I’ve never stepped outside the caravan on my own dressed like that. I’ve been to a couple of small house parties and a club dressed in feminine items, but most of the time I keep my curtains closed and just wear comfy stuff.

So I stood at the door. I was ready to go. I stood there 30 minutes. Every time I went to leave, I heard someone walking by outside. Finally I sat down in despair. I was actually getting ready to cancel but I didn’t. I asked my neighbour to come over.

My neighbour is not just my neighbour. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had. 6 months ago in a club garden in Brixton we shared a secret desire with each other. My neighbour is an only child and has never had a brother. I have 2 brothers and never had a sister. That night, in Portuguese and with lots of cuddles we adopted each other. I am her Mano and she is my Mana (although sometimes we agree it should be the other way round.) I love and trust my neighbour with everything. I mean “everything.”

She came over with my other neighbour and they were both a bit stoned. They could see my distress. My other neighbour had never seen me dressed before and I panicked a little but her reaction saved me. Rather than shock or laughter, she set about checking my makeup and hair for me, then she told me basically no one on the site wold be upset to see me this way. Within ten minutes my eye makeup was fixed and I drive the 30 minutes to the munch.

Getting there was OK.  I was shaking walking in to a full pub of kinksters but a cheeky smoke outside with the organiser and a triple rum and coke got me relaxed. I started enjoying being Gypsy again.

Lots of new sparkly eyed members since I was last there at Christmas. A lot of the faces I knew were having “relationship issues” of some kind and I tried to catch up with so many. I got flirty with someone who suddenly left but it was all ok. I was comfortable being me in a public environment. That’s all I needed.

Heading out again on Tuesday to a new munch with a new face and then I’ve been invited to Hertfordshire Swingers gathering at the end of the month. There are other stories I could have told like how I tore my orange catsuit or the night “he” came over but I thought this one revealed a little more about me than those.

Who knows. I think there maybe a saucy one coming soon.

❤Gypsy. Xxx

The Switch

There are two stories here. They are both vague to shelter those who would feel exposed but I need to mention them both in passing. They have shaped a lot of the turmoil in my head at the moment and left me confused and horny.

The first is a story of a woman and two men. A man that wants to dominate me and a women who wants to dominate both of us. The discussions have been delectable. Exquisite suggestions of pain and control over me. A complete abandon of my self will and bent to the service and pleasure of two others. It both scares me and thrills me to think about and brings out my feminine side so much.

The second is a story about my dominance over a lady. A long drawn out exquisite session of play and fulfilment of something I didn’t know was inside me but she brought it out of me.

There are no details to these stories. You will have to fill in the blanks yourself. The issue is what drives my desires and makes me feel aroused. This is a personal exploration and I need to write it down to understand it more.

Cross dressing for me is so comfortable. I’ve started to add little suggestions of femininity to my appearance in public. Nothing major. Maybe a tight feminine t shirt or a pair of tight jeans. Inside I love getting into a blouse or just our of the things that make me the person I am when not dressed up.

This side of me I feel is driven by my desire to be dominated and be submissive. Whenever something happens that fulfils that desire I lose the parts of me I was before. I become gypsy. She becomes me. We are one person.

I’ve tried to be dominant before. Tried to be in control of sex but it has always felt wrong. In order to dominate, I focused on what I thought the other person would enjoy. I’ve always enjoyed and been aroused by giving and pleasing others. It doesn’t necessarily matter if I experience any pleasure. I have though. I have been used and enjoyed being used thoroughly.

Those who know me understand how pain works in my head. How it releases the penthouse up anxieties I have around attraction. How it makes me feel needed and wanted and loved. Yes I am a messed up bunny but I could either go through years of sx therapy or just embrace who I am wholly and accept myself. It was only a year ago that I discovered the wise and varied nature of desires under the thin veneer of what society would call “normal” in truth I haven’t met a “normal” person.

What has thrown my journey into disarray recently is my discovery of another darker and dominant side that desires control. A side that is aroused by taking power over another. It was unexpected. This time I thought about what I would enjoy being done to me. About how Gypsy would want to be treated. It released an entirely new personality. I was caring but brutally controlling. I inflicted pain and sex was hard and rough. Beyond anything I’ve ever done before.

It’s left me consumed. A little scared of myself. A little worried about who I am inside. There are still creatures in the dark waters of my subconscious that show themselves near the surface. The journey goes on. I think Gypsy is OK. She still enjoys feeling feminine and a little shy. I think she would enjoy being the person that I was. I think above all she still craves dominance over her. And the pain is still something that needs to be experienced.

❤Gypsy xxx

Brimstone and treacle.

Things here haven’t been the same wonderful thing that they were destined to be for about a month now. Nearly a year ago I moved here with the idea of finding a space I could develop my journey. I wanted this place to be a sanctuary where people could come and share food and find a space to discover themselves.

It’s a difficult post today because I need to talk about crisis points and how we all can see them as a positive thing. Including me. 

My life began 44 years ago in a small village by the sea on the east coast. My father’s family, (2 sisters and three brothers and many of his uncles and aunties and my grandparents,) all lived in the same village. My mother’s family lived in the next village along.

So it was assumed as I grew up with my younger brother that it was safe for us to wander around the village from house to house, go out to the sea and generally tend to ourselves in the summertime.

My uncle lived in a house outside the village with his wife. When I was seven he became a father to my cousin. That’s when he started to abuse me. I know this. I remember the day it started. I see glimpses of it sometimes. In my memory. For the most part I blocked it out. Until about 5 years ago. When it started to resurface in lots of weird ways.

The problem I have is that I emotionally detached myself from the whole thing. I have memories of things happening and no feelings but that’s beginning to change. I’ve started to feel the trauma as I start to remember more detail. 

A week ago I wasn’t in a good place. Some issues with friends, supporting them, feeling insecure and scared for no apparent reason. It all pointed to an unidentified trauma. When you’re in the middle of that, you tend to attach it to things around you. My paranoia flared up. Anxiety about everything going on around me.
Last night, I finally got a chance to verbalise my concerns with my best friend. My mana. My sister. She came over to see me. We’d both had a very busy weekend. I was tired. We shared some cake, drank hot drinks and had a smoke. I explained how I was feeling. How the headaches and the pain in my neck kept coming back when I felt stressed or scared or worried about things.

Then she left and I tried to sleep. There were people walking up and down outside the yard talking. I imagined they were going to rob and kill me. Dogs barked and I heard people talking about me and laughing. I heard phantoms breaking in. All kinds of heart racing emotion washing through me without any real source to start to fight it with. I was curled up like a dried leaf. Every muscle and tendon on fire with pain.

This was my crisis point. I fell asleep for a couple of hours until 2am. Then the fairground workers got back making a racket arguing about backing up lorries. They woke me from a dream but in the waking opened something inside me.

I had a visual memory of him babysitting me in the 80s. My brother upstairs asleep. Me on the sofa. Him standing over me with his hands around my head, pushing my face into him. My eyes hurting from closing them as tight as I could.

My right eye still hurts today. As I remembered it I suffered all the physical sensations and emotions. I felt sick. My head hurt. My shoulders and neck so tense I couldn’t move them today.

You may be thinking that this is a terrible thing. I hit my crisis point and punched through it. Now I can deal with that memory and the pain associated with it. I can begin to heal.

When the emotions were detached I was placing them on everything else but what has caused them. Now I can understand them better. My reasons for wanting pain. My submissive nature. My unhappiness with my male body. I can start to understand it all now differently. Yes it’s made me cry writing this because I remember telling my friend how difficult it was experiencing all of it together. Saying how I was strong because I had risen beyond it all and made my own life what I wanted it to be and how sad I was thinking how it still affects me after all this time.

I’ve reflected on it. I’ve thought of the triggers. I can move forward now slowly and experience remembering my childhood without fear. So many good memories left me alongside the bad ones. My friend told me that all the flowers in the garden are beautiful.  Even the weeds. My head is my garden now.

Love and understanding. 

Gypsy. 🍊🍊🍊

The Munch

Orange Latex Vest

I’ll wear the boobs next time. X

19 May 2017

It’s been about 6 months since I last visited the local munch. I was nervous this week going alone. Partly because it had been a long time since I had seen any of the local kink crowd but also because it was the first time Gypsy has ventured bravely out alone.

I wore vinyl tight trousers. Pink knickers. An orange latex vest which really helped give me a feminine shape with my new boobs. Very subtle makeup and a purple open blouse. I wore flat sparkly sandals and did my nails. Took 3 hours epilating, shaving and getting everything ready. Even washed, conditioned and dried my favourite dark wig. The look was perfect but there was a problem.

I’ve never stepped outside the caravan on my own dressed like that. I’ve been to a couple of small house parties and a club dressed in feminine items, but most of the time I keep my curtains closed and just wear comfy stuff.

So I stood at the door. I was ready to go. I stood there 30 minutes. Every time I went to leave, I heard someone walking by outside. Finally I sat down in despair. I was actually getting ready to cancel but I didn’t. I asked my neighbour to come over.

My neighbour is not just my neighbour. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had. 6 months ago in a club garden in Brixton we shared a secret desire with each other. My neighbour is an only child and has never had a brother. I have 2 brothers and never had a sister. That night, in Portuguese and with lots of cuddles we adopted each other. I am her Mano and she is my Mana (although sometimes we agree it should be the other way round.) I love and trust my neighbour with everything. I mean “everything.”

She came over with my other neighbour and they were both a bit stoned. They could see my distress. My other neighbour had never seen me dressed before and I panicked a little but her reaction saved me. Rather than shock or laughter, she set about checking my makeup and hair for me, then she told me basically no one on the site wold be upset to see me this way. Within ten minutes my eye makeup was fixed and I drive the 30 minutes to the munch.

Getting there was OK.  I was shaking walking in to a full pub of kinksters but a cheeky smoke outside with the organiser and a triple rum and coke got me relaxed. I started enjoying being Gypsy again.

Lots of new sparkly eyed members since I was last there at Christmas. A lot of the faces I knew were having “relationship issues” of some kind and I tried to catch up with so many. I got flirty with someone who suddenly left but it was all ok. I was comfortable being me in a public environment. That’s all I needed.

Heading out again on Tuesday to a new munch with a new face and then I’ve been invited to Hertfordshire Swingers gathering at the end of the month. There are other stories I could have told like how I tore my orange catsuit or the night “he” came over but I thought this one revealed a little more about me than those.

Who knows. I think there maybe a saucy one coming soon.

❤Gypsy. Xxx