

Presents

A Webzine Created and Edited by 

Number 13
Table of Contents
"Where dreams are the
stuff reality is made of"

Explorations



by
, Editor
"Cinderella Liberties"
Every transsexual gets caught up in the "Cinderella
Syndrome", picturing a prince on a white steed sweeping her off her feet.
Unfortunately, fantasies don't happen as often as realities, so it is always a thrill when
a guy comes onto you, especially the first few times. The problem is, you have the body of
a woman and the experience level of a little girl. It doesn't matter how sophisticated you
were in the old role, none of that applies now. So as a new woman you are extremely
vulnerable to male attentions.
My first encounter with a pick-up artist was before surgery
as I was shopping in the shoe department at K-Mart. I was wholly focused on which heels to
wear with my new white dress for my 20th High School Reunion, when an accented voice broke
my concentration.
"Too many different styles", the voice said.
I looked up to meet the eyes of a rather handsome man of
middle-eastern decent, his thick mustache curled up in a smile.
"I know", I replied. "It makes it too hard to
choose." I smiled back.
Now if I had any sense at all, I would have realized that
this fellow was not hanging around the women's shoe department looking for a pair of penny
loafers. But, no, innocent me just appreciated the attention.
I was nervous, to be sure, as I was still not confident in
my presentation, but he picked up the thread of conversation, and before I knew it, we
were talking as we walked through the store. I headed toward the checkout line with two
pairs of shoes, wondering what was going to happen next. While we stood in line, he asked
if he could buy me a cup of coffee. I figured, what the heck, and agreed cheerfully (it
was GREAT to get this kind of attention! I had never experienced anything like this
before.)
As we waited for those ahead of us, he asked how much the
shoes were. Being cheap (after all, this WAS K-Mart!) I had purchased inexpensive shoes at
$10 a pair, and told him so. He offered to buy them for me. Well.... I may be naive, but
I'm not stupid. I respectfully declined, saying I didn't want to impose, but in fact did
not want to be obligated in any way - this guy was moving fast!
Eventually, I got through the checkout line (although not
without being thoroughly checked out by this guy) and - as I had truly enjoyed his once
over - I asked him where he wanted to get coffee. Actually, I was kind of looking forward
to having coffee bought for me. Somehow it made me feel like I had some value. But he had
other plans.
"It's too crowded in a coffee shop to get to know each
other", he began. How about if we just sit in m car for a while and talk?"
Well, even I could see where this was leading, but still I
felt flattered by the attention, reasoned I could get out of the car if I needed to, and
as long as I did not let him drive me anywhere I would be okay.
"Okay", I said.
He had a middle-of-the-road car: no great shakes, but
quickly explained, "My car is in the shop... this is a loaner." Then, he riveted
those steely black eyes on mine, never looking away from my face, and began to tell me how
he had been so attracted to me in the store that he just had to spend some time with me.
He told me I was sexy and began to stroke my shoulder. Moving his hand slowly toward my
breast, he described how "men are not like women: They first get the physical
attraction, then they fall in love."
Of course, I knew this was all bull, even though I had never
tried such a thing as a male. Yet, the attention was so intoxicating, his hand massaging
my nipple, so heady. If I had not been male, he would have had me right then and there!
But I had been male, and so could call up just enough objectivity not to succumb.
He told me that he wanted to make love to me and that we
should go to a motel right then and there. I kept hedging, trying to get as much of this
as I could without going any farther. He kissed me and said we should go. Still, I did not
give in. He said, "Are you worried about getting pregnant?" I replied, "I
don't think I have to worry about that."
Finally, I told him I would not go to a motel right then,
because I had to think about it with a clear head. He asked for my number; I refused. I
said he should give me his number and I would call if I decided to go. That's when he got
really nervous, but seeing that the fish was about to steal the bait and run, he went
ahead and gave me his number. But it came with the instructions: "Don't call except
on Tuesday or Wednesday nights, and if a woman answers, say you are a customer at my
upholstery business." Right.
Well, I escaped with my virginity that time, though if I had
been post-op at the time, I rather think I wouldn't have. But did I learn how to stave off
male attention? NOT! Some months later, I was working as editor of a feature film. One of
the actors came in to see the dailies. Later, he found a moment with me alone and told me
he recognized me from my support group meeting. I had not recognized him, as he was not
there very often, and was not transgendered, but a "TS Shark" - one of those
guys who has a special place in his "heart" for people in or after transition.
He wanted to have lunch, and I thought, "Okay, it'll be
fun to have a guy buy me lunch." That went fine, and he was very gentlemanly.
However, each time he came in after that, he got more and more "friendly",
eventually telling me he wanted to start a relationship with me.
I was (and am) still married, but at the time, did not want
to jeopardize my marriage, so I thanked him for the flattering offer, but declined.
Several days later, we were recording sound at Universal Studios, and he came in to loop
his lines. He sat next to me and kept putting his hand on my knee. That evening, the
director, the producer, a friend of theirs and myself went to dinner near the studio. The
fellow in question approached the director and invited himself along.
I realized he just wanted to close in on me and so I found a
moment to tell the director what the problem was and that I would appreciate it if after
dinner he would keep the guy busy while I went to my car. He agreed.
Sure enough, after dinner, I left in a hurry, and he was
going to follow, but the director snared him. That didn't work for long, however, as I had
not quite gotten to my car when he caught up to me anyway. It was in a dark alley behind
the restaurant, and there were no other people in sight.
We started talking and he made a number of suggestions about
how we might be involved. After several minutes he began to come on to me very strongly.
He gripped my derriere tightly and pulled me to him. He tried to put his tongue in my
mouth.
Now, I know what you are thinking: why didn't I just tell
him to bug off? Well, part of the whole thing was my fault. The ol' Cinderella Syndrome
kicked in and made me feel special that he was interested. I didn't want it to go any
farther than talk, but I didn't want it to stop completely either. I liked where it was.
Problem is: guys just can't leave it at that. I now know that they just keep charging
ahead until they get resistance and even then they keep trying until they are sure the
resistance can't be broken down.
Well, I was standing there clamping my lips together but
even still, his slimy little tongue kept weaseling in and lapping up against mine. Why
didn't I just push him away? For the same reason women everywhere are afraid to fight
back: they are afraid if they resist they will get beaten up. Suddenly I understood the
nature of female fear. Here I was in a dark alley, alone with a determined horny admirer
whom I was sure was a lot stronger than I was. I just held out and didn't respond until
some people finally came by and I had the opportunity to break away and tell him I had to
run.
I shakily opened my car door, got inside, and was just about
to close the door when he stepped in front of it, blocking it open. He told me he wanted
me to know how much he was excited by me, took my hand and placed it against the bulge in
his pants. I replied, yes, I could see he was interested. I can still feel him running his
fingers across my lips when another group of people came by. I used the opportunity to
close the door, waved good-bye and took off into the night.
Now, I'm sure he remembers it a different way. I'm sure he
was convinced I wanted him as much as he wanted me. But that is because men and women
don't evaluate things the same way. This kind of miscommunication is just what we have to
learn to avoid as new women.
As a final example, there are two 7-11 stores equidistant
from my home. One to the East, the other to the West. When I go to work in the morning,
the West one is right on the way. I like to stop there for coffee on my way in from time
to time. At least I used to until the counter guy got the hots for me.
The first time I met him, he riveted his eyes on me and
started a conversation. The next couple of times he would always hold my hand when giving
me my change. Finally, I went in and while getting my coffee was startled to feel an arm
go around my waist. I looked up to see him smiling and asking me how my day was. I just
rolled with the situation and said it was just fine, thanks and then paid and left. I
could feel his eyes on me all the way to the car.
All the way to work I hated the way he had taken liberties
and loved the way he found me attractive. Nonetheless, I determined not to go back for
awhile so things would cool down. A couple weeks later, I went back and didn't even get to
the coffee before his arm was around me. This time I was really beginning to feel
harassed.
Still, the fantasy of having some guy so turned on by you
that he makes those kinds of advances was narcotic. But I kept from swooning with it, paid
my bill and left. I vowed never to return again. Several weeks passed and I had occasion
to stop home for lunch. Afterward I decided to buy a candy bar at the other 7-11 which I
had gone to exclusively since the last incident. This time, however, I was running late
and knew I had to stop at the trouble spot or go without a candy bar.
Suddenly I got enraged. How DARE he make me feel ill at ease
in going into the most convenient store. How DARE he encroach upon my freedom like that!!!
So, I girded what loins I have left and pulled into the parking lot. I looked through the
window and was relieved to see that there was someone new at the counter: maybe he quit!
I went inside, feeling comfortable there for the first time
in months, and looked over the candy bars. No sooner had I picked one, but the guy at the
counter yells to someone I couldn't see, "Okay then, I'll see you later!" He
walks out of the store and MY guy takes his place!!! I couldn't believe the luck!
Of course he saw me immediately, riveted in on his prey and
kept me in his sights as I came to the counter. My skin crawled in anticipation of what
might come next. But he surprised me. He just made pleasant conversation! Things are
looking up, I thought. He's gotten the message! After he gave me my change, he even
offered me his hand to shake. Well, I thought, he's a gentleman after all!
I reached out and took his hand... and he grabbed mine and
pulled me across the counter and into a kiss! And then another one! Right there in the
damned 7-11!!!
He released his grip, I smiled and left and haven't been
back since.
Now, why did these things happen to me? Because I didn't
understand men, that's why! Men are more aggressive than women. To them, the only time to
quit is when they are convinced they can't make any progress at all. But I don't like to
offend. And by nature am flattered by attention. As a transsexual, the whole concept of
being desirable is better than sex - maybe even preferable to sex!
The combination of the two different points of view led to
me being "violated" by these three men in ways I preferred not to be. But even
as I was being kissed between the Lotto tickets and the $1.99 roses, I had the strongest
surge of sexual desire I've ever experienced without foreplay! Even while I was being
violated, I was being turned on!
What does all this mean? That when fantasy and reality
collide, its easy to be of two minds. I know I am. And until I make up my mind, this sort
of thing is likely to happen again.
Cinderella Liberties aren't just taken by the man, but are
also given by the woman. We are both participants in the act. Until you can sort out how
you really feel and learn how to communicate if your shiny new baubles are for touching or
just for looking its a good idea to err on the side of caution. It's the best way to make
sure you live happily ever after.
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Melanie's Wise Words of the Month
"Don't look to others for answers;
Look to them for questions you have not thought to ask."
--Wilma Snakestare (map)
