Tag: boi

The Butch in Me (HNT)

On September 11, 2008

Click the image for a second image. Click here for the larger version.

So, the card reader for my camera is not able to be read on any of the computers in the house, meaning I need to get a new one but I have not done so yet. In lieu of a new HNT I am pulling from my stock of old photos. It took me a while to decide to actually post this, if I was brave enough to face the possible reactions or lack of reactions. It’s interesting that some aspects of myself are more vulnerable than others, and usually those I haven’t processed fully.

The second image (click the image to see) is one I added mostly for my own amusement. Looking back I’m not sure what I was going for, and I find it a laughable attempt at looking “cool” or “badass” or something like that. I was feeling rather hot at the time, I will admit.

These images I’m pulling from 2006, the pictures I took while getting ready for the Gender Bender Ball at Southern Oregon University, an event which I began during my term as President of the LGBTASU (now Gender/Sexuality Union) and which is still going on today. The shirt and tie are the same as in my Drag Quing HNT. The shirt is the one I wore to my High School’s Junior prom, accompanied by black bondage pants, the red tie I’ve had forever, as well as my terra firma harness and faithful Leo.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my boi/Syr side, and it’s something I’m going to work on developing further. Look for a post regarding that in the next few days. And, please, be gentle.

Semantics Sunday: Fagette

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On August 31, 2008

In Discourse, Gender Galaxy

One of my new favorite words, one which I’m even considering adding to my long list of labels up on the masthead, I’ve already added it to my gender description. I first encountered the term in the Fagette video by Athens Boys Choir which is absolutely lovely, hilarious, wonderful, and perfect.

Doing a search on google for faggette brings up over 18,600 results which are a mixture of pages with the Athens Boys Choir video on them or linked, personal profiles like myspace or digg, information for people with the last name of Fagette, some is information about La Fagette, France, and random other things. Aside from the video I’m interested in the Urban Dictionary definition of fagette which reads:

A lesbian or a woman that displays either a masculine or feminine attitudes, mannerisms, and dress depending on their whim at the moment.
At the Lesbian Club, Cheri was such a fagette that she was receiving looks of interest from both the Butch and Femme crowd.

As opposed to the simple other definitions: 1. A gay frenchman. Derived from “faggot” and “baguette.” 2. A female homosexual/lesbian. I would say I prefer the first definition of fagette(s) from UD instead of the other for fagette.

Further, I would propose my own definition (as that’s what this post is all about, right?) which brings it slightly away from sexuality, though I would say queer is a necessity as I believe queerness and gender have some sort of link together but queer doesn’t always have to do with who one sleeps with. I really like the “depending on their whim at the moment” part of the definition, and I think that is key for my own feelings and adoption of this label.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my boi side, especially since reading The Leather Daddy and the Femme since it is so amazing and is a queer femme who also dresses as a boi, who has both aspects (genders) within her and plays with both and in between. I have been feeling more of my boi side lately, but also enjoying and analyzing my femme side, yet another “switch” label for me to inhabit, perhaps, switching from boi to femme and back again and everywhere in between.

It’s often difficult to not have a definite place in this gender galaxy, or to be circling around more than one sun. At the same time it’s very freeing, because through embracing these specific labels I am able to then open up my own gender expression to fit inside or outside of the gender lines as I see fit. Just like I feel it’s sometimes necessary to restrict something or go to one extreme in order to find where you really feel comfortable, and I’ve had to do that.

Back to my definition of fagette. Basically I think of it as a queer who mixes masculinity and fem(me)ininity and creates their own version of both, whether their biology is male or female. I know it’s a rather open-ended definition, but I think gender is open-ended in some ways, a lot more open-ended than society would like us to believe anyway. A fagette can look like Athens Boys Choir: a boy with a vagina, or a bio-female drag queen, or like Miranda/Randy of The Leather Daddy and the Femme, or all sorts of other configurations. There’s something about femme masculinity in it (not to be confused with female masculinity), which seems contradictory, in any way but I’m talking simply gender and not biological sex.

There’s a type of femme which can only be achieved by mixing a little masculinity in, I think, the drag queen is a drag queen because it’s putting a feminine gender on the socially “wrong” body, but a similar gender is difficult to achieve when you are putting a similar gender expression, drag queen, on the socially “correct” body. Fagette is recognizing that wrongness, that queerness, and embracing it.

It doesn’t come out as femme drag queen for everyone, that’s just my experience of fagette, having to map it onto my identity in order to have it fit. It’s similar to what I mean by “femme drag queen,” the purposeful combining of femmeininity and masculinity in order to create a new gender all my own, an androgyny that doesn’t come out looking primarily masculine as most androgyny does.

Fagette is not limited to the gender expression “drag queen” as some drag queens are not fagettes, but some fagettes are drag queens. Fagette can encompass any gender which is a mixture of femme and fag (I believe).

Faux Queen

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On March 24, 2008

In Gender Galaxy

I never knew there was a term for me already (somewhat) embraced and widespread in the community! This is why I NEED to be in San Fran and not fucking Salt Lake City. This and so many other reasons…

I love it, though I still prefer my femme drag queen gender to faux queen, it seems so… fake? I mean, if you think about it, in some ways bio-females hyperenacting femininity similar to drag queen femininity is just as if not more disrupting to the idea of gender as natural than male drag queens. At least, I think so. The trouble is getting to a place where you’re performing that hyper-femininity, and most of the time that is not easy unless you go completely over the top, which can be difficult.

Of course, I was thinking earlier how it would be wonderful to dress as a boy. I do embrace genderqueer as well, among other labels. While I’m a pomo girl I also think that labels have their usefulness, especially in a society which automatically labels, and so I choose to label myself.

D/s and Gender Musings

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On March 23, 2008

In Gender Galaxy, Identity: Submissive, Power Play

I’m currently reading Venus In Furs for my Queer Theory class. It’s the first time I’ve read it and it really remarks to me the differences between F/m and M/f (and F/f and M/m) more than I could go into, of course, but here are some tidbits which made me think and realize a few things about my own self.

I know that Venus in Furs is not exactly what every F/m couple is, of course, but it does provide interesting insight. I tried to put myself in the position of Severin/Gregor with Master or any man for that matter, and I was unable to imagine it exactly the same, though it could be similar, and I’m sure other people engage in it, but I couldn’t see myself being a servant in the same way. A servant, surely, but there are things such as walking 10 paces behind him while shopping, carrying all his things, or things such as that which I wouldn’t feel comfortable or desire doing. However, things like taking his coat and opening the door for him and such I would be willing to do, waiting on him, things like that, but only certain things are ones I wouldn’t want to do.

For a Mistress, on the other hand, I think I would delight in doing some of the things I don’t see me doing with a Master. Although, I could were I in drag. I could see myself as the boi servant of some high femme woman. That could be hot. I would probably end up being a femme-ish boi, but a boi nonetheless. Curious. I could see myself doing those things as a boi for a Master as well, but not as the femme that I am.

What accounts for this difference? It’s quite obviously gender and gender roles. It’s due to the hyperfemininity which would be expressed by the performing of such actions, which I would find difficulty with should my Master do something like that. This is making me think. I wonder if I shouldn’t have spoken so hastily and discarded activities for all men. I didn’t really see myself to a feminine female except for now I do, and I blame the book. Perhaps it would be different if I were reading a book about a feminine male and his (boi?) woman.

Thinking about it I do enjoy the idea of a feminine male and his boi, and that makes me think of Tipping the Velvet, I seem to recall one such couple, as well as the main couple being one I described above, ultrafeminine woman and boi. I couldn’t see my Master as a feminine male, as he is very much not one, though he does have feminine sides, but not an ultrafeminine male.

Anyway, there were some of my musings. More later, I think. I have work to do.

Bender

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 7, 2007

In Smut

Read in Episode #4 of The Sacred and Shameless Sexcast.

you had told me i was hot as a boy, and so i’ve decided to dress up for you this late saturday night. i grabbed clothing sneakily while you were in the bathroom and went downstairs to put it on. i put on my old bondage jeans which i hardly wear anymore, and a button-up shirt and tie. i wish i could find my find my fedora, but i think it’s probably on top of a box somewhere, waiting to be found, and not for tonight. instead i part my hair down the center, and slick it to the side to get rid of my girly bangs. though, i did put on a lacy bra, because i wanted enough of the boy to shine through as well as the woman underneath. i want to be neither one or the other but both at the same time, which was the same reason i stepped into my strap-on and adjusted it just before donning the jeans.

i smirk as i look in the mirror, reaching down to adjust my silicone-hard cock, the outline of which is visible against my denim-covered thigh. i lick my lips, try out looks at myself in the mirror, find one that is a suitable “i’m going to make you do me” look, a look that, even though it’s my reflection, makes me melt a little as i look at myself. all i can think of is “damn i’m hot” and “damn, -this- is going to be hot.”

i go, now impatient, upstairs, turn the corner, the other, see you sitting on our bed, reading a book. i paste on the look i practiced in the mirror and strut casually into the doorframe, leaning against it, waiting until you notice me. i see the look of shock and surprise, and that only causes me to lift my chin a little higher, cast a more hardened look at you, my lips threatening to curl into a smile. i can already feel my cunt getting wet between my legs, the feel of the cock already growing familiar instead of foreign.

instead of saying anything i move over towards you, standing next to the bed, and take your hand, with a tiny smile. i slide your fingers against the cock, and somehow the feeling is electric inside of me. i can feel the silicone attached to me, as if it were my own. i smirk at you, wiggle my eyebrows, just once, in an expectant silent command. i watch as your surprise turns into interest, and then excitement. I reach over and slide my fingers against your own cock through your jeans.

i move a leg up onto the bed, parting my thighs, the cock between my legs adjusts and i move my hands to my crotch, undoing my pyramid studded belt, unbuttoning and unzipping the pants slowly, and pulling out my hard black silicone cock. i bend over, my breasts pressing against the fabric of my shirt as i do, and i kiss you, hard, insistantly, tongue probing your mouth, almost reversing roles, though knowing they aren’t really changed. i break the kiss, look into your eyes and grin mischieviously, then tug your lips down, the book in your hands forgotten on the other side of the bed, your lips moving towards my hard cock, watching as your tongue slides against it. i can’t help but groan at the sight of it, and at the same moment your lips engulf the tip of my attached erection.

i lick my lips and watch as you play with my fake cock, wondering why i hadn’t done this sooner. you look so hot with my cock in your mouth. i slide my fingers into your hair and groan again, watching you as you start to slide your lips down the length, playing with it, teasing it as i often tease your cock. i can somehow feel your lips through the silicone, sending white hot shocks to my clit, feeling my cunt getting even wetter, and knowing that it’s delicious smell is seeping into the air.

you slide your fingers under my cock as you lick and suck at it, as i watch you. your fingers slip against the zipper of my jeans and find my hole even as you continue to lick at my length. i moan, loudly, as you slip a finger against my folds. the base of the cock and the leather of the harness rest against my mound, leaving my slit open, and my clit avaliable, and you realize this, sliding your finger up to find my aching clit, hot and burning with need. i buck my hips, causing the ever-hard shaft to jut into your mouth another inch, and i hear you groan.

your finger starts to rub, and i fight the urge to start fucking your face, jamming my cock down your throat, instead i just grip your head and buck against your mouth softly, shuddering as you easily bring me close to cumming, feeling the suction of your lips against the fake black cock. everything growing heightened, stiffened, aching, needy, and finally feeling the release i was craving, cumming hard against you.

you let me come down from my excitement, slipping your lips off my length, and i reach down to slide a finger against it, leaning down to kiss you sweetly, grinning against your lips, and knowing we’re not done yet.