Well, will you just look at her!  I was all of sixteen years old when this picture was taken.  Look at my chubby cheeks, still so full of baby fat.  One of the first things I did when I got my driver’s license was to drive downtown and buy a nice wig.  Did you do the same when you were sixteen?  No?  It never crossed your mind?  Liar!

Look at my dewy faced innocence.  I suppose every prostitute was once a good little girl.  My dream back then was to become a Princess when I grew up.

Who would have guessed this little innocent-faced ladyboy would turn into a Rapist!

I’ve committed so many rapes as Cassandra the act doesn’t even faze me anymore.  When I picked up Hank at the airport for our road trip he asked me how my day went.  I replied, oh just the usual.  Woke up.  Had coffee and read the paper at my favorite café.  Hit the gym.  Had two tacos for lunch.  And then raped a guy afterwards.

Sometimes I think about turning myself in to the D.A. 

Dear Kamala Harris: Please prosecute me for rape!  And put me behind bars! Because I don’t want to be a rapist any longer!

I don’t know how I developed such a reputation for being a rapist.  Can’t I just be a tender and passionate Top Girl without having to always bust out the ropes to tie someone up?  Is this what it really takes for someone to have sex with me — that they have to be tied up and forced into it?

Every morning I look at myself in the mirror and ask, is this the face of a rapist? 

I guess so.

Yet I always thought I was rather pretty.  I’m too pretty to be a serial rapist, damn it!    

This is the classic Tgirl rape scenario: a client comes over for a “massage.”  He “assumes” I’m a woman.  After the massage starts, I “surprise” him with my shecock.  He is shocked – shocked! – that I have a dick.  And then I “force” him to suck on it, bend over for it, etc, etc etc.  I call this the “Classic T-Girl Rape Fantasy” because I get asked to perform this at least once a month.

I’m sure you can tell how thrilling this fantasy is for me.

Imagine repeating this same fantasy, for the SAME guy, THREE TIMES IN A ROW!  I swear, it’s like that movie Groundhogs Day.  Every time he comes over, I have to pretend like we’ve never met.  I have to pretend to shock him, again, with my penis.  And he pretends to be outraged and resists.  I deserve an Oscar for my performances.  I am that good of an actress.  An actress with lesser chops could never pull this off.  It’s why so many of my rape victims come back for repeat rapes. 

Oh, that’s right, you’re going to SUCK it, Bitch. 

Who’s your daddy now?

When this same rape victim asked to come back for a FOURTH time, I had to decline.  There are limits to my sanity.  I thought about sending him to a rape counseling clinic.  He needs professional help. 

Of course, I can’t write a post about rape without mentioning Tie-Me-Up.  He came by the other day.  I had just come back from the gym so my metabolism was super high.  The act of tying him up and trying to rape him while he struggled pushed me over the edge.  I was sweltering.  My wig wasn’t just damp with perspiration.  It was SOAKED. 

And, in a moment of frustrated rage, I ripped off my wig and threw it across the room!  (Don’t worry: Tie-Me-Up couldn’t see because he was bound, blind-folded, and gagged, with his face in the carpet.)  The wig landed with a wet plop! against the wall and then slid down, leaving behind a trail of sweat.  It looked like a brush stroke from post-modern Chinese calligraphy.

Tags: followup