u/molly_K_ultrafemme

I’m a 55 yo trans sapphic femme who spent enough time in the sissy online and hypno space to have an appreciation and respect for sissy culture. I’ve been in a pretty solid power exchange relationship with a domme lawyer half my age for the past five years. The leap into this commitment as her girlfriend and submissive required so much more adjustment on my part than I anticipated initially, but considering that only a decade ago I sported a bar handle mustache and now a smooth face and a set of all natural D cups, I could say that the investment has paid off.

We’ve grown together as people throughout our relationship. She has taught me how to live as a woman and be willing to be strong for myself and each other. As a result, however, I’m completely addicted to her presence and love her so much. So much, that over the weekend I bought my first bottle of poppers as a birthday present with the intention of deepening my desires and addiction to her presence.

She has encouraged my self exploration, so while house sitting for her this weekend, I opened the little black bottle for the first time ever, turned on a muscle mommy popper video and… inhaled.

By the end of the evening, I had become this scent addicted thing, my nose alternating between the bottle and her gym shoe. Fully engaged with the process and my brain soaked in dopamine, I was in ecstasy.

I felt like I had succeeded, I couldn’t wait to pick her up from the airport to see how my body and mind would react. It was as intense as I hoped. Seeing her after a week, and supplemented by my Pavlovian self experiment, felt like a hammer to the head in a dream.

This morning as I went to work, she kept me on her couch after our morning workout, and edged me while we talked about our plans for my birthday. I buried my face in her shoulder and whimpered with joy before she stopped and told me to get ready for work.

She had said she would try poppers with me some day, I might get some this weekend.

Let’s be real, ladies—if we’re all waiting for someone else to make us look or feel the way we want, a lot of us are going to bed crying tonight. 😢

I’m a busy woman. But here I am, nine years into my transition. No full surgery. No facial feminization. And yet—through demeanor, effort, and a whole lot of faith—I’ve reached a place where society no longer reads me as male.

Have I run the gamut of feminization? Yes. But more than that, I’ve run the gamut of learning to feel content in my own skin.

Some days are still hard. And they’ll get harder. But we have to stick together. 🤝

If you’re out there and you need a little encouragement to take your next step—I see you. I’ve been where you are. And I’m offering you my ear.

fter 5 years of dating, my girlfriend told me that was what I was for her and that she loved me so much. I’m so happy that I get to be her fuck toy. She loves doing it to me and she thinks it’s fun 🤩 we’re going to edge and tease each other so much 🩷 and I know that I’ll give in to her because she is so beautiful. Her pussy was so tight 🥵 I was castrated 5 years ago and just her touch makes my limp clit rigid enough to pound the back of her juicy cunt 💖💖💖

After 5 years of dating, my girlfriend told me that was what I was for her and that she loved me so much. I’m so happy that I get to be her fuck toy. She loves doing it to me and she thinks it’s fun 🤩 we’re going to edge and tease each other so much 🩷 and I know that I’ll give in to her because she is so beautiful. Her pussy was so tight 🥵 I was castrated 5 years ago and just her touch makes my limp clit rigid enough to pound the back of her juicy cunt 💖💖💖

Ever look back on your life and realize you had a trend going on?

I'm a trans woman. I've always viewed my feminine nature as something that just is — not a performance, not a goal, not something to be earned or imposed. So when partners or "friends" tried to force feminize me (6 different times!)my unconscious mind would hit a wall. ‘Why would anyone need to force something I already am?’

I think that lack of agency is probably why I was so bratty with women who tried to coerce me. I'd resist, push back, get difficult — not because I didn't want to be feminine, but because I didn't want to be made feminine. There's a difference.

It's funny now. In my later years, living my femininity entirely on my own terms, none of those old labels really apply anymore. I'm not a really a sissy. Not quite "trans" in the way people expect either. Honestly? I'm just me and I am learning to like myself.

I’ve been meaning to say, to the gentleman who invited me to the gloryhole in November, thank you very much. To the other gentleman with the BBC, also thank you! I wish I could have stayed longer but I was feeling faint and didn’t want anyone to have to take care of me (I got too excited!).

Try calling G vans trapping so from this beautiful song, gay Bambi, Bambi, Bambi