"Do you really walk the streets Katie?"
"Isn't it dangerous Katie?"
"Don't the police bother you Katie?"

A sample of some of the myriad questions that my streetwalking exploits have provoked in the BirchPlace chat room and in emails from would-be t-sluts and salivating admirers :)

Next to doing naughties in the toilets of clubs and bars - something I never do - I suppose that streetwalking is the ultimate adrenalin for t-girls who 'do it'. I know exactly what motivated Hugh Grant to kerb-crawl Divine. It was the sheer filthiness of picking up a tart in the street, when he could have been in his hotel, tucked up in bed with Liz.

Is it dangerous? Well, certainly no more so than getting myself shackled in my stocks for a stiff seeing to. At least there are other people around on the streets if someone were to turn nasty. In fact, your average kerb-crawler is a bit of a pussycat and far more likely to be the nervous party. If you spot your fantasy girl teetering down the road in some "fuck me" outfit, hitting her on the head with a hammer is not foremost in your mind :)

 The buzz for me comes in several ways. As with most t-girls, the first of these comes in the act of dressing, which, for me at least, is close to being a sexual act. I try to imagine what I would like to see a girl wearing that would tempt me to drive round the block again for a second look.

I know that my kink about wearing pvc macs and coats is not shared by the majority of t-girls, but wearing one certainly leaves little unsaid for a stud with the horn. The effect of headlights dancing off a shapely tart in a slutty pvc mac or a tight-fitting leather coat and high-heels is manna from heaven for your average man at the wheel, even if he is not in the market. Real girls are well aware that wearing a pvc mac is a brazen act and likely to provoke 'unwelcome' attention. Several real girls have said as much to me when I have been entering or leaving bars and clubs, often asking where my mac or coat came from.

Before I forget, in January the all-new BirchPlace shop will be launching some very sexy macs and leather-look coats tailored for the tv/ts market at affordable prices. If you invest in one, just remember to stay off my turf!!!

I know girls who have been moved on by the police. The other night the only non-driver who spoke to me on the streets was a hunky looking copper who flashed me a smile and said "hello". Most of them know the futility of accommodating girls at the station for the night and, lets face it, they have the same blood flowing through their veins. I should know - one of my greatest admirers is a local plod and I've got his fingerprints to prove it.

Buzz number two is the reaction of passers-by. This ranges from broad smiles to scowls, the latter confined to women accompanied by rubber-necking males. Getting a non-reaction is quite reassuring in terms of one's girly credentials, but cat-calls, whistles and lewd or whispered comments really get my arse-a-wiggling Most girls, particularly the younger ones, are apt to smile, whilst guys tend to stare or furtively glance, sometimes at the risk of getting a dig in the ribs from wifey.

To be honest, I rarely go cold-calling. Most of my exploits are by pre-arrangement. A stud will arrange to be on a particular street at a particular time. I then flounce past, get kerb-crawled for fifty yards or so and then propositioned. If I am feeling a bit of a tease, I flick my hair and walk on a few more yards, before getting into his car. We then park up in a darkened side street. I unbutton my coat to reveal my stockinged legs and a sexy skirt or just a pvc basque and panties. I don't need to carry any Viagra in my handbag baby.

I feel terribly slutty when I feel that hand resting on my neck, as I get my tonsils tickled. The job is then finished properly back at my pad - a short drive from my streetwalking patch. In case you had not guessed, that was buzz number three. Buzz number four comes when I am ordered on to my nine-inch dildo chair to take a good face-spunking.

Katie x x x

More on Katie can be seen at www.katiekinks.com

article Copyright © 2004 BirchPlace