Most days my outfits are pretty gender neutral: Jeans/trousers, and a top, usually with a dog somewhere on my attire. Simple. But sometimes I like to look pretty. Not necessarily ultra femme but femme enough that I might get a few conventional complements about how ‘lovely’ I look.
And, when I do this, I sometimes also like to pack.
What Is Packing?
I remember once I came down the stairs of my apartment to a few individuals while wearing the most darling little skirt I own and a cute, skin-hugging black top to match.
‘You look amazing!’ one of my guests said, to which I responded ‘Why thank you. I’m packing’ with a huge grin, much to their complete and utter bemusement.
It was at this point that I realized not everyone is as queer AF as I am and maybe I needed to explain just what packing is. So, here goes…
Packing is the act of wearing a prosthetic phallus (known as a ‘packer’) or stuffing something else down the front of one’s underwear to mimic the appearance and/or sensation of having a penis.
People may pack for many different reasons. The most apparent would be for trans or genderqueer/fluid individuals who may wish to have their physical presentation conform more closely to their gender.
This can be mentally affirming as well as physically appealing. The sensation of a bulge where they usually isn’t one is pretty noticeable and creates a sense of awareness about one’s anatomy and personal presentation.
For some this is reason alone to pack. A well-made, perfectly squishy packer can feel positively gleeful to strut around, more so if someone consensually (and perhaps slightly forcefully) comes in and grabs at your bulge.
There might be sexual pleasure there too. Packers can put pressure on the vulva, which may indirectly stimulate the clitoris. Add the above-mentioned pressure and, well, the fun intensifies.
For me it’s a case of almost all the above. I’m a genderqueer, sexually-charged, individual who loves the sensation that a packer provides for me.
But, you may notice a few omissions. Chief of which is the fact that when I pack while in ‘lady-mode’ no one is going to be able to see my bulge but me and those I permit to…and that, my friends is a main part of the appeal.
The Concealed Packer
Whereas many individuals love to pack very visibly (and rock their packers with pride, I might add) a lot of my packer pleasure derives from the idea that my prosthetic phallus is mine and mine alone – to wear and share as I wish.
I can be looking as brilliantly femme as I can muster (poor makeup skills permitting) and people may see me as the perfect 50’s housewife but underneath it all I’m happily rocking my cock and stealing a glance or grab of myself whenever I can.
When sitting down I do so in the most delightful manner, yet each subtle shift is really a way for me to feel my packer pressing against me – to take the time to relish in its movements and presence in my boxers (because, yes, ladies can rock boxers too).
As I sip my tea I think about how people don’t know, can’t tell – how they’d never even suspect that I might be rocking a cock under my dainty dress – and that, my friends, is fucking hot.
But, beyond this, I just love the idea of having my own little personal moment of challenging people’s expectations of what a woman should be – how they must act and how they should present themselves.
I adore playing with the boundaries of gender and gender presentation. When wearing my packer in a pretty lace dress I exist in an undefined and fluid space of gender presentation and identity. I refuse to be pinned down, even if just in my own mind, and I hold the power to challenge other’s expectations too.
When I came down and mentioned that I was packing I opened a dialogue and introduced that person to something that they had never even heard about before, let alone considered. And although I can’t say the reception was immediately understanding it was at least thoughtful (and respectful, thankfully).
True, this form of packing may not be as discursive nor confrontational as some forms of gender activism, but it works for me because I always have the option to conceal or reveal my status. It is, to put it somewhat poetically, a safe space under a skirt, and that is an invaluable barrier for those I simply don’t wish to engage with on any given day.
But, you may be wondering…
Do I Pack More Visibly?
To which the answer would be, yes.
When I’m feeling more masculine I’m happy to pull out my jeans, maybe even chuck on a sports bra and go for something a bit more overt. But these times are few and far between.
Contrast is perhaps a bit of a fetish for me and I revel in it whenever the mood takes me.
I’d see this as one more type of gender presentation rather than anything related to shame, and boo to anyone who might think otherwise.
In fact, there are few things that affirm my queer identity to me as much as being a femme packer and I am longing for the day where I can slowly slide my skirt up to someone and reveal my brilliant bulge.