I'm Misofist (she/they), a proud non-binary trans woman, activist, kinkster, and amateur pornographer. I mostly write about trans issues, kink, and polyamory. You can find me on Fediverse as @Misofist@girlcock.club. If you'd like to buy some porn, check out my C4S store.
You know the autistic / transfem / traumatised (not sure which exactly) thing where someone confronts you about how you’ve caused harm and you just instantly believe them and apologise and apologise and apologise.
Several days ago, my girlfriend Hubris sent me a Tumblr post by spicymancer. An expansion on the anal beads swimsuit concept that adds a handcuff-based predicament.
After seeing this post, I couldn’t stop thinking: this wouldn’t actually be that hard to make, right? I had some free time, I had access to the required tools, and I have the body to pull off the look. I could make this fantasy into a reality.
An hour later I got started.
I ran into some surprising difficulty when it came time to search for a hosting provider though. I’ve spun up many a blog before, and my MO is mostly just to spin one up on AWS, but given the sort of things I want to publish on this blog that won’t quite cut it this time.
I want to be able to write about trans rights, I want to be able to post my porn, and I want to be able to speak freely about genocides. I want to do this without the risk of running afoul of my provider’s acceptable use policy, and without feeling a threat of government-imposed censorship.
This is a story that I’m a little infamous for in my local kink scene. People often ask me to tell it to new friends in the scene, perhaps as some kind of hazing ritual. One time at a munch I was telling this story, and a friend who was hearing it for the first time fainted and had to go rest behind the bar for 15 minutes.
I see Fediverse as being the future of the internet. In my eyes, Fediverse is the modern social media equivalent of email, and I have some ideas of how to work towards the same ubiquity.
These aren’t moonshot ideas either, these are all things which I think would be pretty achievable in the short term. I think most of these ideas could be implemented by a solo open-source developer in a matter of weeks.
Nature this, nurture that. All these arguments could be solved by evaluating the similarities and differences between me and my clone Hubris.
I mean, it’s not like I want to be examined and experimented on in a clinical setting. But I do think I’d make a good subject for dubiously-ethical psychological experiments. And as for my clone… well I’ve already put her through some of those so I can vouch for her suitability.
Ever since I can remember, it’s been my dream to be in porn. I remember spending my late teenage years watching fetish vids and wishing I could be one of the actresses.
I love the way that bruises develop. Think about that word, “develop”. Doesn’t it make you think of chemical photography?
Being slapped or punched or cropped or paddled happens in an instant. The pain is momentary, you can’t keep it, but in its ephemerality there is value.
And yet, much like a photo, bruises capture a longer record of an instant. They might not last as long as a photo, but that just encourages you to renew them regularly.
When I am covered in bruises, I am covered in mementos. And I am covered in art.
Maybe it’s the autism talking but conditional love is better than unconditional love.
Recently I’ve been seeing a lot of bickering discourse between transmascs and transfems; fights about transmisogyny and transandrophobia; lateral violence and idpol.
I think it comes from a fundamental disagreement about how to apply feminist theory to trans people. At its root: does patriarchy oppress women, or does it oppress AFAB people?
Something that I wish more people were aware of when they are discussing media is: Just because something is justified by the story, doesn’t mean it wasn’t a choice that the author made to include it.
Brat tip:
In pain but don’t want to show it? Rather than trying not to make a noise at all, it’s easier to convert your moans into laughter.
This has the added benefit that laughing at a person who is trying to hurt you is likely to piss them off.
I went to a comedy night a while back, and one of the comedians had a set that was about her terrible experiences on dating apps. One of the main stories was about how she went on a date with some guy, and when they decided to get ice cream afterwards he pulled up a spreadsheet with rankings of ice cream shops and flavours he’d tried in order to assist in the decision making process. The crowd laughed uproarously at the idea of this pathetically pernickety man with boring hobbies.
It’s kinda funny when people wonder about why dogs and cats do the spinny around thing before they lie down. Like clearly you’ve never been a puppy.
I could explain it, but I wouldn’t want to rob you of the joy of discovery. Just try being a puppy it’ll make sense.
You are cordially invited to a Doggy Dayspa!
What: Doggy Dayspa is an event for creatures and their owners to socialise in a friendly, relaxing environment. (Strays & self-owned pets welcome! )
A nemesis that shares your toothbrush. A nemesis that you sword fight with. A nemesis with weaknesses that you learn because she’s cute when she’s annoyed and disgusted. A nemesis that you watch anime in the bath with. A nemesis that bites you until you scream. A nemesis that you kiss sloppy style. A nemesis that has hypnotic triggers that you slowly collect to gain an advantage in fights. A nemesis that you say I love you to and she says it back. A nemesis that says she wants you to be in her life forever.
Ok so I wrote a little while ago about having my first real kinda puppyspace moment.
But since then I keep realising all the puppy-like tendencies I have.
Having more people in my bed objectively gives me a worse night of sleep (less space, more limited posture options, worse thermal regulation, disturbances) but I wake up feeling more refreshed somehow?
I used to hate penises, especially my own. I was the stereotypical “I’m so straight I even hate my own penis” meme. I fantasised about getting bottom surgery before I ever thought about being trans.
Today marked my 1 year anniversary on cyproterone. My 1 year tranniversary. My first rebirthday. I started estrogen more than a year ago, but cyproterone is when the real changes started so it’s where I’m choosing to define the start of my transition. I have now known what it feels like to really be alive for one year.
For a long time I have sworn by my body pillow.
Back when I was closeted, one day my sister got home from getting her haircut, and she was absolutely distraught. The hairdresser had cut her hair too short.
I think a big divide between liberal assimilationists and leftist queer liberationists is a willingness to confront inconvenient nuance.
In the past I’ve posted lewds online for a few reasons:
But even though I have exhibitionist fantasies, posting lewds has never been for my own gratification.
So I was quite surprised when I uploaded a kinda sexy pic today and noticed how wet it had made me. First time I’ve got off on uploading a lewd. It’s probably because my period has me feeling all kinds of things, but… what if I’m becoming a slut who constantly uploads slowly-escalating lewds in order to get off? Hot to think about…
Ok take notes friends, if I make a post about having my period, I don’t want the majority of comments to say “ummm actually trans women don’t get periods you just get literally every symptom of a period except bleeding and I have arbitrarily decided that the bleeding is the only part that matters and it’s very important for you to remember that you don’t have and will never have a uterus”.
Like “it’s only a period if it comes from the utérus region of France” yeah ok.
Maybe check a dictionary and you’ll find the definition of “The set of symptoms associated with menstruation, EVEN IF NOT ACCOMPANIED BY MENSTRUATION; an episode of these symptoms.” (Emphasis mine)
I’m going to call my penis a clit too you can’t stop me.
If you are insulting someone you don’t like, this necessarily requires that the thing you are using to insult them is something you consider bad or shameful.
So I started showing my favourite anime (Planetarian) to a friend. And after two episodes I was trying to explain how obsessed I am with it.
So I brought him through to my room and showed him my three posters of commissioned artwork from the show. And my cushion cover of Hoshino Yumemi. Then I showed him my vacation photos where I went to Akashi Municipal Planetarium.
In the past I’ve made the usual amount of joking comments about being a catgirl or a doggirl or whatever seems funny at the time, but I’ve never been serious about those identities. I’m a robotgirl and that’s it.
Just had a dream that I was out enjoying some sunshine and reading a book and decided to take some kind of drug.
I got home, and discovered that my landlord had visited with a plumber while I’d be out. (I assumed my roommate had called them in). My toilet had gleaming new stainless steel hardline piping to its cistern, none of that ugly flexible pipe.
Then I left the bathroom and walked to the lounge room, and it seemed they had also got a sparky in. An abundance of new lightswitches were on the wall, waiting for me to discover their purpose.
An argument that I’ve seen before is that trans women don’t experience male privilege and it’s transphobic to suggest otherwise. Let’s dig into this, shall we?
Putting my makeup on is always such a rollercoaster. It’s like:
Today the NSW Labor government apologised for the past criminalisation and oppression of gay people.
The apology is a sham. The reviews and committees around the Equality Bill are shams. We see through Labor’s pinkwashing.
I’ve been thinking for a while about my sexuality and how I’d define it. And honestly with all the complexities of identity and presentation, I kinda think it’s impossible to come up with an objective definition for lesbian attraction that includes everyone who would want to be included and excludes everyone who would want to be excluded. Let alone whether that 100% accurately matched whatever it is in my brain that decides whether someone is attractive to me or not.
If you’re transfem, how do you refer to your young pre-transition self? Here are some options:
Recently I’ve been feeling kind of gross. I think I’ve lost some confidence in myself and my appearance. When I look in the mirror it’s harder and harder to see a woman. I’ve become critical of my hair, my face, my stomach, all things I had started to feel good about. I’ve been unusually pessimistic about voice training, despite making good progress.
Watched an old Kink video and instead of feeling turned on I just felt depressed that
I’m woken up by my apartment intercom ringing. My roommate answers it. I figure he must’ve got Uber Eats. I check the time, it’s 12:30pm. I sleepily mumble-yell something to my roommate, but he says he’s already had lunch. Apparently I have guests.
My gf and I are both relatively early in our transitions. When we started dating (about 6 months ago) I’d been on HRT for a couple of months and she’d been on it for around a year.
I think there’s something very magical and exciting about dating someone during this stage of their life. Every now and then you see them after some time apart and get excited because their skin got smoother or their tits got bigger or their gock got cuter. You can watch as their face softens, and as their self-esteem grows.
And having someone to notice these same things about you and tell you about them is amazing too.
I had a dream that I was arguing fiercely with my dad about something but mid-argument he called me by my chosen name for the first time. And I had this weird mix of being angry / fired up still for whatever we were arguing about, but also feeling really pleased at the effort he was making, and thinking what a touching way it was to subtly remind me how much he cares about me even when we are arguing.
And now that I’m awake and know it didn’t happen I’m having a tough time processing it.
Like I don’t think I’d ever get angry at someone for something they did in a dream, but it’s a bit harder to disregard positive feelings I have from a dream. I don’t know if I want to discard them. Let me cling to the unreality.
Recently we’ve seen a lot of white leftists who claim to be ACAB but don’t seem to understand what that actually means. I believe I have found a very simple solution!
Go to protests. Yell at cops. ”Bottoms and tops, we all hate cops” is a fun one. Organise with other local leftists. If you see a cop walking down the street, flip them off. If a cop is buying a donut in front of you, say ”ACAB”. If you see cops parked up and harassing people, loudly criticise their parking job.
Once the cops hate you, you’ll no longer have the temptation to run them for every mild inconvenience.
And as an added benefit, cops love thinking of themselves as ”heroes of the people”, and when they find out people don’t like them it really hurts their feelings. If we show enough disdain for them, maybe some of them will quit and get real jobs.
The most recent time I caught up with my dad, the first thing he said to me was “Well the breasts are coming along nicely”. Uhhhh thanks dad.
As someone who was there, I’d like to talk about some aspects of Mardi Gras that the media has not reported on. Ideas and opinions within this post are my own, and do not necessarily represent the views of associated organisations.
I’m seeing a speech pathologist for voice feminisation, I had my second session today. He told me I need to practice meowing and nyaaing.
I watched Wendell & Wild today. Siobhan is kind of a model of how to approach leftism as a privileged person.
She says something outside of her lane that’s well-meaning but naive, and gets harshly rebuked by someone with lived experience.
She doesn’t whine or get defensive or demand they explain themselves, instead she goes away and does her own research. And once she’s learned, she apologises, and then enthusiastically joins the fight.
We should all strive for this energy.
Even if you don’t practice kink, even if you don’t have sex, you should still have a safeword and discuss it with your partner(s). I used my safeword for the first time last week, and it wasn’t part of a kink scene at all.
I had a dream last night where there was some sort of pandemic that only affected women. I was in hospital for unrelated reasons and they found something rare in my DNA. They were like “we know a research team that could really use a small amount of your blood to develop a proof-of-concept cure”. So I agreed.
