Free EBook Samples: Free ebook sample of "The Erotic Professionals-The Transsexual Mistress Account" by toni newman

Transsexualism:

The desire to change one's anatomic sexual characteristics to conform physically to one's perception of self as a member of the opposite sex. Male to female is also referred to as “mtf,” and female to male as “ftm.”

Mistress:

A female or transsexual dominant, or dominatrix in BDSM, which is a type of role play or lifestyle choice between two or more individuals who use their experiences of pain and power to create sexual tension, pleasure, and release. The compound acronym, BDSM, is derived from the terms bondage and discipline (B&D, B/D, or BD), dominance and submission (S&M, S/M, or SM), sadism and masochism.

Preface

I think my story is an interesting one. It is about a hidden society within American culture. Most people do not interact with transgender people daily or regularly in their lives. I wanted to put a face to a group that is hardly recognized. Statistics say one out every thirty thousand people is transgender in the USA. That adds up to forty out of every million people. And the numbers for minority transgenders are even lower. They form a very small community, but they have value and worth, just like everybody else. They need love and respect and dignity, just like every other American.

I want everyone to respect transgenders as people and to understand why they transform their bodies. Many doctors have stated that there are psychological and mental reasons for this type of transformation. But my story is one of just trying to become one, become whole, and become who I really am.

I am a sane, logical, thinking individual who has had to match the outside of my body with feelings inside my body. I am not crazy, nor do I have any mental issues that clouded my mind during my transformation period.

Individuals seek love and acceptance for who they are. In groups, that is basically what we are looking for too. Respect me, and I shall respect you. I ask you not to judge me without giving me a chance. I respect all religious beliefs, but my God is one of love and acceptance.

I hope you enjoy my story. I sincerely believe that if you open your mind, you will learn something about a group of people who live among us – the transgenders.

Chapter 1

The Beginning

Hello. My name is Tony Newman. I was born a male, but soon realized I was a different bird, born in the wrong body. I had feminine qualities from my earliest age.

I was born a male in Jacksonville, North Carolina. The home of Camp Lejeune Marine Corp Base. I am the oldest of four children.

During that time I was referred to as a sissy child.

My mother, Esther, was a good Christian woman who made her family attend Church and Sunday school every week. She had stern spiritual beliefs and was the strict disciplinarian of the family. Her faith made her strong.

My father, Bubba, was very easy-going and always wanted to please his children. He was an ex-army guy, employed as a civil servant with the federal government. He worked two to three jobs to make sure we were happy and had everything we needed. He recognized I was unique and special, and never really discussed or mentioned it at all.

My three siblings were Eric, Tonia and Dale. Eric was five years younger than me and was the real macho one. He played several sports well, was very handsome and always had women interested in him. My sister Tonia was the quiet one, introverted and into herself. She was never that good in school and had no activities outside the home. My baby brother Dale was the outgoing quick talker. He was always mother’s baby because he was the baby.

Growing up, I excelled in school. I was quick to learn and grasp what I read. I liked school and enjoyed learning new things. My grades were consistently good. My father rewarded me for my good report cards and my mother was always pleased to see them. I received several awards in school for academic achievement and was always a member of the honor society. School was the one place I felt normal and not so different.

I didn’t really have male friends at this time. Most of the guys in school considered me soft and feminine. They were afraid to be my friend for fear of people thinking they were gay.

Instead, I vicariously identified with the pretty, smart girls in my class. I gravitated towards them, since I had the hidden desire to be like them. I was attracted to their femininity and beauty, and wished deep down inside to be one of them.

I was active in the church and tried to understand why I felt so different and abnormal. I was a member of the choir and junior usher board. I faithfully read the Bible and prayed intensely for meaning. I believed if I surrendered myself completely to God, I could become normal and happy. I believed with such intensity that if I prayed hard enough, God would make me normal. But my feelings and thoughts were so unconventional I didn’t know where to go, or who to turn to for help. So I fervently prayed to God and tried even harder to be holy and washed clean of my desires.

The church and choir gave me some comfort, but never made my thoughts completely go away. Still, I believed in my heart that if I prayed hard enough, God would purge me of my feelings.

Of course, I also realized by the age of ten I was attracted to men – but the attraction was not male-to-male. I longed to be the female, both in form and appearance. My first chance came when I was eleven.

I remember watching my neighbor, a fifteen-year-old boy, working out. I enjoyed his male form as he worked up a sweat. It aroused me, and he didn’t seem to mind my presence. At times, he’d put on a show to impress me. He was an athlete and very popular with the girls, and all I wanted was to be one of his girlfriends.

After three months of watching him, he undressed in front of me and asked if I liked what I saw. I told him yes, I did. He asked what I wanted. I stood there in awe, frozen in time and tongue-tied. A long five minutes went by before I found the courage to tell him I wanted to touch him and be one of his girls.

He laughed, and said, “But you’re a boy!”

“But I want to be a girl, and I want to be your girl,” I told him.

He laughed louder. “Wow, you’re serious!”

“Yes, I am.”

We went upstairs to his bedroom. I took off my clothes, and he asked again if I was serious about being a girl, and again, I repeated I was. He left the room and returned with one of his mother’s wigs. I put it on, along with some lipstick and perfume.

He took one long look at me and said, “Now you’re my girl.”

Naked, we lay on the bed together, touching each other softly. We kissed. Our touches became harder, and soon our bodies were grinding into each other. I felt so free in that moment. For that half hour, I felt like his girl. A dream had come true for me.

We met every week for three years. I couldn’t wait for our weekly meeting to play and be together. Each time, I dressed in women’s clothes for him, and in those moments I felt I was the real true me. Then he turned eighteen and got a scholarship to go away to college. I never told him, but he was my first real love.

During this time I was still active in the church where it was constantly preached that homosexuality was a sin and not God’s way. I acknowledged this message, and in my heart, I believed what I was doing was a sin and against God’s will. But I enjoyed being with this boy so much and felt wonderful inside to be with him. I would pray and ask for forgiveness. I figured after all, the Bible said God would forgive you if you asked. But the battle raged within me. It was my desire versus God’s will.

By the time he left for college I was a freshman in high school. At that point, he was the only guy I had ever been with, and whatever I felt for him was my secret.

High school was hard in the beginning since I was feminine in actions and words. No matter how hard I tried, I could not mask my pure femininity. My natural essence screamed out female, even though I was in a male body.

I was lonely during my freshman year. My only friend was gone, but my desires hadn’t. I was approached by several guys. Publicly, they made fun of me, but privately confessed they wanted me sexually. So I gave in to their needs. Most of them liked it when I told them I wanted to dress as a female before we did anything. I had maybe ten to fifteen encounters during my freshman year. I soon realized these guys did not want to be friends. All they wanted was a one-time encounter and to never speak to me again afterwards. Once the sex was over, they avoided me and loudly made fun of me in groups. All I heard were the words “sissy,” “queer” and “girly boy.”

The summer break came and I was so happy. I told myself I needed to be stronger in my faith and not so weak in the flesh. I prayed harder than ever before and began to fast in order to cleanse myself and become closer to God. It was during this time that I became friends with a new, highly educated minister at the church. He was young, married with two kids, and had a lovely wife with the voice of an angel. I told him I wanted to be closer to God so he took me under his wing. Together, we read the Bible, prayed and fasted. He was sincere, and I greatly enjoyed his attention to me. I knew he wasn’t gay, but I enjoyed his company. And I thought, if I prayed with him… just maybe, I would be able to free myself from my bad, wicked ways.

Throughout that whole summer, I felt as if I was being cured, and healed from my desires to be with boys and dress in women’s clothing. With my friend, the minister, my time was filled with praying, attending sermons and even traveling with his family.

The summer came to end, however, and I went back to high school as a sophomore. I ignored all the boys from my freshman year with whom I’d had sex. But then I went to math class, and there was a new kid who’d just transferred to the school. He was mixed, exotic looking and very muscular. He was a senior and introduced to the class as the new athlete at school.

I began to feel those feelings again.

I sat two seats behind him and admired him daily. He wore the tightest, most provocative clothing, and there was always a new pretty girl hanging on his arm. From time to time, he said hello, but other than that, we had no interaction.

Then one day he asked me if I understood the assigned math equations. I told him I found them easy. I was the only sophomore in advanced math class. He said he didn’t understand them at all, and asked if I could help him. I was elated and said, “Sure!” He gave me his address and told me to come by after school.

I could hardly wait until the end of the day. I raced to his apartment where I found him alone, since both his parents worked. I began showing him the equations but he seemed restless and inattentive. Suddenly he asked if it was okay with me if he smoked some weed. I was in total shock and did not know what to say. All my teachings had taught me this was the devil’s vice. I told him I was a Christian and child of God. He stared at me, and asked was did that mean? I answered that my body was God’s temple and shouldn’t be defiled. He smiled, and said that was cool with him so long as he could smoke his joint and relax.

He took off his shirt. His body was awesome and beautiful. As he smoked his joint and relaxed, I became more and more aroused.

He looked at me and asked, “You’re very fem, dude. Are you gay?”

“I’m trying to be God’s child and not be gay anymore,” I answered. “I don’t feel gay. I feel like a girl.”

“Really? That’s deep, baby.” He took a deep puff and continued. “I knew you were special. That’s very okay with me.”

“I don’t want to be special. I want to be normal.”

He laughed. “What’s normal?”

“I really don’t know anymore.”

He moved closer and I could smell him. He asked if I wanted to be with him, and I immediately replied, “Yes, so bad!”

Then he told me whatever we did I couldn’t tell anybody, and it would only be between us. As I agreed, I realized it was me that would always be the secret. We had sex for two hours and he made me feel good. Real good.

We never did math again after that. Our meetings would always be about sex. He was a star athlete in three sports and even encouraged me to try out for the high school track team, which I did. I was very fast and was a good sprinter. Being in the locker room with the male track athletes was a whole new world to me. So many naked boys in the showers, I was in heaven!

We continued to meet at his apartment after school. We always had great sex. He was dating so many girls, won so many MVP awards, and was so popular, that nobody, I mean nobody, ever knew we were discreet friends, never mind fuck buddies. He was a senior and got a lot of attention from college scouts. As the school year came to an end, he was recruited by a top college for a sports scholarship. Once again, I’d fallen in love. For the second time, nobody knew but me. We met one last time when school was out and he was getting ready to go away to college. He told me when he came home on breaks we’d get together. He left for school, and of course I never heard from him again.

Three years later I was reading the local newspaper. It announced a local boy had been recruited by an NFL team for a big signing bonus. It also mentioned he was engaged to marry his college sweetheart. I thought his fiancée was the luckiest woman in the world.

My junior year in high school was relatively quiet. There were several guys I longed for, athletes of course, but nothing ever happened with any of them. I was still running track, traveling with the team, and placing in the track meets. I had no sex during my junior year of high school. I still believed God would cure me, but I had come to realize that my faith was weak since I was not in control of my desires.

J
acksonville High School, Spanish National Honors Society. Toni Newman in center, circa 1981.

Jacksonville High School, Yearbook Staff. Toni Newman in center, circa 1981.

T
oni Newman, signed yearbook photo, Jacksonville High School, 1981.

T
oni Newman, yearbook graduation photo, Jacksonville High School – Home of the Fighting Cardinals, 1981.

Finally, senior year came and I got excited about leaving my strict home to go away to college. I began a friendship with the head high school counselor, Ms. Jones. With her encouragement, I filled out college applications to several top universities, including Chapel Hill, Wake Forest, and Duke. My GPA was 3.8 and my SAT scores were excellent. Soon, the letters of acceptance began rolling in. But I realized I was going to need financial help or a scholarship to go to school. I got accepted to Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, the Demon Deacons, and got scholarship money from them, as well as three local scholarships. It was the furthest away from my home so it was easily my first choice.

Senior year rolled away fast. Suddenly, there I was, graduating with honors. My whole family was so proud of me. And I knew in that moment I could go away from them and be myself. No more pretending to be something I was not. I was more excited about freedom than any degree. The thought of having no rules and doing what I wanted, when I wanted, thrilled me. I was a high school graduate with honors, heading off to college.

My parents dropped me off at Wake Forest University where I checked into the dormitory.

In my mind, I was finally free. Thank God Almighty, free at last!

Chapter 2

The College Years

At Wake Forest University, I was placed in an all-male dormitory with seven other roommates. After my parents headed back home, I realized, I was all alone for the first time in my life.

My excitement boiled over. I was able to go and come as I pleased, without rules or curfews. All my roommates were white, as was most of Wake Forest University. It was rare to see another person of color as I walked around the campus, ate in the dining hall, or studied at the library.

Pre-medicine was my intended major, and on my first night as a college student I attended several freshman welcome parties. I had graduated in the top five percent of my high school class and been awarded both local and state scholarships to attend Wake Forest University. I basically had sailed through high school with ease, but that evening it occurred to me, so had most of these other students as well. The university attracted the very bright and those at the top of their high school class.

My roommates were a wide range of folks. There was the good ole country boy, the hip city boy, and the conservative religious boy. And then there was the quiet genius boy. For the first few nights, there was a lot of hanging out, partying, and mingling.

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ake Forest University Logo.

The Demon Deacon: Wake Forest University Mascot.

I was assigned an advisor and went to her to talk about my first semester classes and beginning my pre-med studies. I had a full academic load and classes were to begin the next day. At first things were fine, but my lack of discipline and constant partying began to affect my studies.

I started going to the local drag clubs in the city and was just amazed at some of the drag queens I saw. Later I would understand my fascination when I learned becoming a drag queen is the first step in the male-to-female transformation. Most men who are drag queens do it for fun, and not to continue the transformation process.

At clubs, I picked up make-up and clothing tips from the local drag queens. I attended one club so much that my first semester grades suffered, and academically I did very poorly. I received my midterms and was devastated. I tried focusing on my studies, but I was so drawn to going out, partying, and dressing up that my final grades put me on academic probation. I lied to my parents and everybody around me. I said I was doing great and all was going well.

My advisor warned me, if I didn’t do better my second semester, I’d be asked to leave the university and would lose my scholarships.

The second semester was much better, and I attended summer school to increase my grade point average. I was still partying and enjoying the nightlife way too much. This marked the beginning of the battle between my outer self and true inner self. My female side was winning the battle. It had taken hold of me, and I had no self-discipline. Until then, I did not realize how much my mother had kept me focused and on track. At home I had a schedule for everything, including my studies, but at college I was like a wild animal out of control.

I began my second year of college. Pre-medicine was very hard, and I had to choose another major since I had done so poorly in science during my first year. I limited my visits to the drag club in the city to the weekends. I studied more, and my grades went up slightly.

One Friday night at the drag club, I noticed a young, extremely muscular guy. He was dressed casually. I was wearing high heels, a mini skirt, and a long black wig. He spoke to quite a few drag queens but hardly noticed me. I spotted some Greek letters on his shirt, so I made my way over to him and asked what the letters meant. Kappa Alpha Psi, was his reply with a friendly smile. Years later, this incident would lead me to pledge to the same fraternity.

He went on to explain that he was a student at Winston-Salem State University, a predominantly black school on the other side of town. I later found out he was a big-time athlete there. I never mentioned I attended Wake Forest University, which was known as being a private white Baptist school for rich kids.

Shortly after our first conversation, he politely left, but every Friday night I would see him back at the club. I never saw him leave with anybody. He just watched the drag show, had a drink, then left. After six or seven weeks of watching him, I asked what his deal was. He said he enjoyed the drag shows. But what I wanted to know was if he was attracted to drag queens. He shook his head. He liked transsexuals and kept coming to the club hoping to meet one.

Hardly any transsexuals came to the club though. The crowd was mostly just guys dressed up in women’s clothing and wigs. After leaving the club however, I would see these beautiful, sexy ladies walking the street a few blocks away. For the longest time, I thought they were female prostitutes. But one night as I headed home, I noticed the athlete from the club talking to one of the ladies. After a short conversation, she got into his car, and they drove away together.