Written by Belinda_King

2 Mar 2012

Thank you to all those commenting and sending messages to me on the site. I certainly am genuine. I have lost count of the men I have been with over the years. When I started visiting local dogging sites in 2007, I saw several hundred and many were very nasty to me, having mistaken me for a well dressed and sophisticated woman. My little car became well known and there will be readers on this site who met me.

I have been in some dangerous situations, but I am excited by aggressive and ugly men. I have many stories to share on this site, starting when I went off to university. From the very first moment I knew what men did to women, I wanted it done to me

I used to worry about my needs and never told the sex change specialist about them.. Obviously I should have completed my my sex change. My small perfectly formed sex became even smaller. Although I am upper middle class, or perhaps because of it, even with my sex change I would have needed rough men to go on humiliating me. My sex is so small, and hairless, the sort of men I see need no encouragment to hurt me there. I also have small girlie tits and big nipples

Though not every man wanted to hurt me, most of them enjoyed being rough with me. Having been with Pakistanis during my student days, I knew how much they excited me. I found out that the younger ones were kept away from girls, They liked seeing me in my dresses and skirt suits, all made up, wearing high heels, expensive undies and high heels.

By the summer of 2007, I started longing to meet another one. I found someone from Luton, via a website. Travelling in my large motor home to the proximity of the dogging site,

I parked in lay by an hour in advance. I was already wearing light make up, and had on black satin and lace panties, matching bra and deep suspender belt under my tight jeans and top. Now I tried to calm my nerves to make myself look exquisite for the thirty something Pakistani who had jumped at the chance to grope my little bald sex though my panties, slap my budding breasts and generally hurt and humiliate me all the way to and beyond orgasm. I intended to look every inch the spoiled upper middle class housewife that I wanted to be.

Slim Blonde meets Pakistani-Part Two

I pulled the heavy satin and lace slip down my slim body, my pretty satin panties, bra, stocking tops and suspender belt barely hidden by the exquisitely feminine and figure hugging garment. I felt so warm, soft, womanly and deliciously vulnerable as I smoothed my long slender fingers over my satin clad hips and thighs. My . Admiring my soft feminine self in the motor home wardrobe mirror, I made out the teasing imprint of suspender buttons holding up my black silk seamed stockings. With high cut French knickers and black satin bra under my slip, I felt very womanly, warm and in danger. My little balls pushed up in front of my pubic bone, tiny sex taped flat between my legs and pantie pad in place, I knew I would look just like a girl when the Pakistani pulled my dressand slip up. He had already told me he was going to hit me there. My cossetted satin covered sex tingled with fear and excitement.

After touching up my make up, with special emphasis on my pouting full lips, I sprayed on a little more Chanel No 5. Then it was time to put on my favourite knee length figure hugging white satin dress. The dress was not all white. A delicate pattern of black flowers made it look wonderfully girlie. I never wear anything way above the knee. I like to look very sophisticated when I meet with brutish heavy handed men. My eyes are still big and blue, looking good with make up- though at my age I use silver eye shaddow rather than the blue of my younger days.

Next came high heels, a silk scarf, calf length brown coat and my hand bag. As I locked the motor home door, I heard the rush of traffic going by along the dual carriageway. Taking tiny steps in my close fitting dress, and on my five inch black patent leather shoes, I walked down the steps toa nd past the underpass, to the old road where I would meet the most aggressive and nastiest man of my whole life to date. Teetering towards him, on very high black patent leather heels, I could only take very short steps. I smiled coyly behind big dark glasses, thrusting my hips slightly forward and puting with my full red painted lips. My natural hormone enghanced breasts could be seen through my open coat. I was offering him everything, excited to the point of dizziness by the almost angry and intent look on his dark skinned Pakistani face. I knew h would be rough and almost came in my satin and lace knickers at the thought of my inevitable and painful humiliation.