What do Sissies Want?

Continued from "Down the Rabbit Hole"

So does it start this way for all sissies? I have no way of knowing. But for me it was a slow decent, one little step after another. Panties led to stockings, stockings to heels, and before long I was shaving and wearing makeup. It's all part of the transformation, the descent into full submissive sissydom.

Being a sissy is all about feeling feminine. The touch of silk on smooth shaven skin, the look of shapely calves extending from high heeled sandals, stocking tops peeking from under a too short skirt -- such femininity is intoxicating!

But being a sissy isn't only about looking the part, it's about feeling the part too. Every time I dress, I want to feel as much like a woman as I can, and that lone desire is what drives me deeper and deeper still into the web of sissified lust.

While it was orginally a thrill to drive in traffic wearing a mini and heels, it was the promise of pure feminine bliss that drove me to complete the illusion. Wearing panties and stockings under my work clothes went from wildly erotic to woefully inadequate in a number of months, if not weeks. Once I had tasted the devine pleasure of complete transformation, I could not again settle for some mere half-step.

I did, of course, continue to wear panties and stockings every day, but I found it almost unbearable to have to wait so long between business trips. Aside from Sami's occasional road trip, it was only when away and in the privacy of a hotel room that I was able to be my sissy self. I can't overstate how preoccupied I was with planning my next trip, or how nervously anxious I became when the time grew near.

Thankfully, my company did require a significant amount of travel, and I volunteered for every trip possible. I didn't care where, and every trip was the same. I would waste no time once in my hotel room, to strip of my male uglies and reveal the satin sissy underneath. I would sometimes shower and shave, sometimes not, depending on how clean and smooth I already was. But one thing was certain, I would spend every evening, my entire trip, completely made up and dressed like a hot sexy slut!

But even those wonderful nights dressed in satin and lace, decked out in heels and skirt were soon not enough. Once again, I needed more. So, with styled hair and slutty makeup, I started to venture outside of my hotel room each time while away. My first excursions were nothing more than a walk in the hallway, or occasionally a jaunt down the elevator. I can't even express the thrill it gave me to be out in "public" as a woman.

Before long, I extended my little outings to include walking to my car, and even brief drives. I still remember the feeling of that first time I ever walked outside. The cool breeze chilling my stocking covered thighs as it blew up under my short skirt, the entire experience enhanced so by the sound of my heels clicking on the hard pavement, it was all I could do to keep from cumming on the spot and soaking my lace bikini panties.

But being the sissy that I am, as time went on, and my desire to feel feminine grew, it eventually came to a point where mere dressing up and prancing around just wasn't enough. My fantasies took me to places I had never before dreamed of, and in a way that makes total sense now, at some point I started to dream of cock. After all, what completes the feminine illusion more? Guys don't pleasure cock, but woman do, and as a sissy who desperately wanted to feel like a woman, I increasingly became aware of my desire to experience sex like a woman, and stroked my little clitty to many fantastic orgasms while dreaming of hard cock.

The rabbit hole took another deep plunge at this point, and my fantasies soon led to my purchase of several latex cocks. I started sucking them at first and found that I became very aroused just by placing my lips around the large bulbous head. I was mesmerized by the sight of my painted nails wrapped around the simulated man flesh and thrilled by seeing my crimson red lipstick prints on the hard shaft.

Of course, I didn't stop with merely sucking these symbols of raw maleness. No, my cocksucking ways soon led to me raping my own ass with dildoes of ever-increasing size. I would dawn my slutiest outfits and bounce up and down on a hard latex cock until my little sissy clitty would squirt my creamy load all over everything.

My favorite activity was to put my high-heeled feet in the air and fuck my sissy pussy with the biggest plastic cock I could find, while stuffing my throat with another. I would instantly become so aroused by the vulnerable feeling of lying on my back with my legs in the air. Looking up at my bouncing heels, I would pound my sissy ass-pussy until my elevated clit would start shooting streams of hot, milky sissy cum into my hungry slut mouth.

Yes, I spent many nights alone in hotel rooms across the U.S., dressed like a complete fucking slut, with a plastic cock in my mouth and another filling my sissy ass.

Each of those nights would end with me crying for my dream intruder to fuck me harder, to make me his bitch, and each make-believe fuck would end with me madly gobbling all of my hot sticky cum I could get.

As you may have guessed, this isn't where it ended. I would soon no longer spend my every feminine experience alone, but then that is another story . . .

Kisses

Down the Rabbit Hole

Continued from "Accepting My Inner Sissy"

The die was cast. Though I did not yet realize it, my journey to complete and total faggot sissydom was well on its way. As I look back, I often think of that first time I shaved my legs as the real beginning, but I guess at some level, I really know that it all began the instant I first pulled a pair of panties over my little cock and felt the arousal of feminine satin.

Those pretty red panties marked the entrance to my personal rabbit hole. It must be the same for all sissies. That first little hint of satin and lace -- your cock starts to harden without being touched. You run your fingers over your hardening manhood, feeling it through the tightly stretched feminine fabric. Your heart starts to beat a little faster. Your breath begins a shallow gasping. Before you know it, without even thinking, you're stroking your fully hard cock. Moments later you've errupted, spewing creamy cum from your little cock like never before!

It's that first orgasm, that first time you allowed yourself to cum while wearing panties -- that's when you dove into the rabbit hole. And once you dive in, you'll never find your way back. Everything from that point on will only take you deeper. You may stop from time to time. You may even feel you've found your way back to being a normal male, but you're just kidding yourself. You're marking time at best. The next time your inner sissy comes out, you'll take off right where you left off. That's just the way it is in a rabbit hole.

Personally, my journey started slowly, but once I discovered Internet shopping and felt the sheer joy of smooth shaven legs, I plunged deep in the hole with wreckless abandon. I did thoroughly enjoy each and every one of those days at work, all dressed in feminine finery under my male work clothes, but the funny thing about rabbit holes is that you always slip deeper and deeper.

It didn't take long before the thrill of wearing panties and stockings hidden under my work suit just wasn't enough. Sami did travel quite a bit, but not nearly often enough to satisfy my desire. I desperately needed to feel more and more feminine, and to do so as frequently as I could.

I began to take every possible opportunity to do the things I couldn't do at work. I would keep strappy "come fuck me" heels in my car, pulling my slacks up to my knees and slipping my stocking covered feet into the delicate leather for my drive to and from work. Soon, I was completely removing my slacks for the drive, sitting in traffic wearing tight clingy miniskirts, my brightly painted toenails showing through the sheer nylon, my silken legs glistening in the morning sun. Those commutes were sublime, and the nervous rush of the big rig truckers who occasionally honked their horns was a thrill!

But as thrilling as it was, feeling completely feminine from only the waist down just wasn't enough. My desire to wear makeup, to style my hair, to paint my nails, to just be able to walk around and see myself primp and prance, was far too strong for half measures. I needed more. My waking hours became a of blur of sissified lust, always focused on the next time I'd be able to doll my face and paint my lips, to adorn my legs with silk stockings and slip my feet into some 4 inch pumps. Only when dressed like a slut, with my cock tucked between my legs did I feel truly alive.

It wasn't long before my lust drove me to make changes that would allow for more. I soon applied for a transfer at work. The new job did pay more, but that wasn't why I applied. The truth is that the position called for a significant amount of travel, and just the thought of all those nights alone in a hotel room made my little dick start oozing precum in my panties.

Business travel is such a blessing for a sissy. Checking into the hotel, knowing that you'll soon be in the private sanctuary of your room. Setting your bags down next to the bed, looking in the mirror and anticipating the hot, sultry female who will soon be looking back.

I can't even begin to count the number of nights I spent in those hotels rooms, the number of times I stripped off my ugly male clothing and transformed myself into an attractive, yet always slightly slutty woman.

Each evening began the same. I would restrain myself from stripping immediately, just long enough to call Sami and let her know that I had arrived safely. For some reason, I couldn't bear to call her once adorned in my frillies. But our conversations were never long. As can be expected, I was always very anixious to get my evening started, and as I would find out later, so was Sami.

Once off the phone, I wasted no time removing my horrid outer clothing. It was always so sensual, dropping my slacks to expose my stocking encased thighs, pulling my shirt up to see the delicate lace panel on my panties. I felt such release as I peeled off my shirt and gently carressed my satin covered chest. I would always rush to put on my heels. Fastening the thin straps around my silken ankles, I could finally relax. Sitting in the hotel room chair, I would pull the band holding my ponytail, shake my hair free, cross my legs and take a deep breath. I was home. I was me.

My evenings would proceed slowly from that point on. For me, heels and stockings are the essence of feeling girly, and once I was there, I wanted to relish every moment. I would stuff my bra and then always take my time doing my makeup, carefully applying foundation, curling my lashes, luciously coating them with wonderful mascara. From time to time, I'd pause to move about the room, to pose and take in my feminine beauty. I do so love the look of a semi-hard cock peeking out between stocking covered legs. Returning to my preparations, curling and teasing my hair into the most provacatively slutty styles I could devise, painting my nails or applying long false ones -- only another sissy can truly understand the sheer delight of feminization.

Made up and feeling sexy, I would complete my transformation with a tight fitting mini, one that would acentuate my firm curvy ass, and a blouse to match. A necklace, earrings, bracelets and rings, a mist of perfume, and I was ready for the crowning glory. To this day, I still wait until last to feel the utter joy of wearing lipstick. For nothing says feminine in quite the way as slick painted lips, and nothing says sissy slut like bright red lipstick.

Needless to say, each and every one of those nights ended with this little sissy shooting her creamy cummy load in a mind boggling frenzy of feminized climax. Each shuttering orgasm fulfilled my desires with a wonderful completion, but even as the spasms subsided and the hot cummy spurts turned to a slow creamy oozing, I knew that I was slipping still further into that rabbit hole.

My later experiences would prove this to be true.

Kisses

Accepting My Inner Sissy

Continued from "Born a Sissy?"

That first experience in heels pretty much sealed my fate. I quickly went from periodic dress-up play to being able to think of little else. Whenever Sami was away, which was pretty often, as her job required a fair amount of travel, I always found myself dressed in her frilly things. On the days when she traveled, I would be in a constant state of arousal throughout the day, looking forward to when I would be home from work and feeling feminine again.

I honestly did try to refuse my feminine desires, but I was helpless to do so. I felt like such a sneak, like a total pervert, each time I dipped into Sami's panty drawer, but even while those terrible feelings twisted my stomach, the excitement, the sheer thrill and anticipation of feeling like a sexy, sensual female always won out.

It wasn't long before I started to dread the times when I couldn't experience my feminine self. I soon began to wear panties under my slacks to work most ever day. As I'm sure all sissies understand, the excitement of my trousers gently brushing over my satin covered cock drove me crazy. I was very fortunate that the tightly stretched fabric controlled the exposure of my constant erection, and thankful that nobody ever noticed the wet spot that often formed on my slacks as my precum soaked through the thin satin and lace.

Of course, I didn't remain content to merely wear panties for long. My desire to feel feminine was far too strong for that. I soon added other items to my secret under-apparel. Stockings were first. I began with the self-supporting thigh high variety. They felt just wonderful under my slacks and increased the sensual pleasure a hundred fold. I no longer had only the occasional brush of my cotton pants against my satin panties but could now constantly enjoy the gentle caress of my stocking covered legs inside my male outer garment. The days when I was able to resist a trip to the company restroom to relieve myself were few and far between, and the scary naughtiness of sitting in a stall, wearing stockings and panties, playing with my sissy cock while male workmates were just outside the partition, always brought me to a shuttering orgasm.


As time went on, my under "wear" expanded, and so did my wardrobe. I soon replaced the elastic top thigh highs with more traditional stockings, often seamed, and one of my many garter belts obtained online. I will forever be thankful for what online shopping has done for my life as a sissy gurl.

Where I had to face a male salesclerk, trembling as I handed him the cash for that first pair of heels, I could now purchase heels in my size with complete anonymity, and all I had to do was make sure that Sami didn't intercept the package.

My collection of feminine underthings, of panties, and stockings, of garters and bras, in white, black, red and delicious pink, just grew overnight. No longer did I have to sneak my frillies from Sami, and no longer did I have to worry about the little messes that I would unavoidably make. With several pairs of heels, a nice assortment of satin and lace undies and even a handful of tight fitting skirts and feminine tops, it was a rare occasion when I didn't spend at least part of my day feeling girly.

Depending on the weather and other circumstance, my "underwear" would always consist of at least a pair of panties, usually bikinis, and stockings with garter, unless I was wearing shorts. Though more often than not, I would add a cincher and/or bra, and at times even a skirt and blouse.

Now, as exciting as all of this was, it still doesn't compare to the mind blowing electricity I experienced when I finally resolved to shave my legs. Any sissy who has shaved will agree, there is nothing that compares to the feminine delight of feeling your silky smooth legs adorned in stockings and panties. To this day, I thoroughly enjoy each fresh shave and can't wait to pull my stockings up my soft feminine legs. The truly wonderful thing about clean shaven legs and a nicely trimmed public patch is not merely how totally feminine it looks and feels, but the fact that it does so 24x7.


Explaining my shaving to Sami wasn't easy, and in retrospect, she was probably suspicious all along, but there was really nothing I could do about it. Once I experienced the total femininity of smooth shaved legs, I knew I would never allow the unsightly hair to grow again.

Before long, I secretly started shaving, not only my legs, but my butt, and then my underarms and eventually my chest. My feminine appearance didn't stay a secret for long, at least not at home. I made all sorts of excuses for this new habit, all obviously complete bullshit, and for whatever reason, probably because she didn't really know how to handle it at the time, Sami put up with my behavior and went along with my lame excuses.

With the hair removed from my body, the true sissy gurl within me was unleashed. I soon became quite adept at applying makeup and did so at every opportunity. The scent of foundation on my face, the taste of freshly applied lipstick -- these are the thrilling sensations that only we sissies get to experience. I began trimming my nails in a more feminine fashion, painting them whenever I could and even learned to style my hair. I never missed a chance to turn myself into the sexy female beauty of my dreams.

I was still a facsimile of a man on the outside, but that was really where it ended. Underneath, I was quickly turning into a complete and total sissy. The sex life that I shared with Sami was obviously impacted for the worse as I became less and less interested in normal sex. She was an absolutely stunning female with a strong appetite for sex, but still, I found myself increasingly unable to perform as a male.


I regret the effect this had on my wife, and I really did try, but the inescapable truth is that normal sex wasn't even in the same league as the thrill of jacking off my little sissy clit while all dressed like a hot fucking slut!

Yes, I did regret the way things were at that point with Sami, but I see now that it was a necessary part of my journey, and one that I wouldn't change if I could.

Kisses

Born a Sissy?

I'm not really sure how things wound up the way they are. You see, I was once a fairly normal guy. Sure I wore my first pair of panties at a young age, and I guess I knew early on that I had a sexually submissive streak. I did actually have a few girl friends and wasn't all that bad in bed, but I knew that something was always missing.

From the time I was a child, I completely adored the female persona. Beautiful girls, dressed in tight skirts with stocking covered legs and strappy high heels, have always driven me crazy with lust. I tried to be manly as I sought out these gorgeous creatures, but even as a virile youth, I knew inside that I wasn't up to the task. I felt inferior. Somewhere inside me, within my very being, I knew my place was at their feet.

I played the game and followed the prescribed path for several years and actually wound up getting married. It was my wife, Samantha, who awoke my true sexual identity. I'll not go into all the details at this time. I'll save those for later, but I will tell you this much:

Sami was a beautiful girl, and she wore beautiful things, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not keep myself from intruding into her privacy and playing with all her delicate, oh so feminine possessions.


I had never had the type of access I gained once married, and once I had it, I couldn't resist it. At first it was just her panties. The feel of the satin against my hard cock . . . I ruined more than one pair with my sticky jism. But I think it was really the stockings that drove me over the top. The first time I pulled them up my legs, feeling the soft fabric against my skin. As I hooked them to the tight stretched garter and moved about, the taut straps pulling across my bottom. The feeling was truly electric, and I knew then that I'd never be able to give it up.

So, one thing led to another. I added Sami's bras to my ensemble, and eventually her skirts and blouses. It wasn't long before I started playing with makeup and then, finally one day drummed up the nerve to walk into a shoe store and purchase my first pair of high heels -- strappy sandals, just like Sami wore, but in my size. They were white with a 4 inch heel.


I couldn't wait until I got home, so I took of my male shoes as soon as I got to my car. I was, of course, wearing panties, stockings and garter under my slacks. My hands trembled as I rolled my slacks up to my knees and slipped my feet into the white patent leather. I had never felt as feminine as I did that moment when I fastened the ankle straps in place and looked at my delicately adorned feet. The feeling was blissful, as my little cock stirred in my panties. I felt as if I might cum right there and then.

But I restrained myself for the drive home. I parked in the garage and for the first of many times got out of the car and thrilled to the sound of my heels clacking on the hard paved floor. I rushed upstairs and stripped off the rest of my male attire as quickly as I could. Shaking with anticipation, I wiggled into Sami's white knit mini. Next came her d-cup bra, which I stuffed with panties, and a sleeveless white satin top.

I ran to the bathroom, where I curled my long hair with Sami's iron and frantically applied my makeup. As I looked into the mirror and drew the lipstick over my lips, I stood in amazement at the person I saw staring back. I turned to view myself in the full length mirror, and nearly lost my breath, for I didn't see a man in that mirror. I saw a long legged vixen looking back. She was as sexy as any of the girls I had long lusted for, and I knew she'd be there for me anytime I wanted her.

Needless to say, I didn't last long that afternoon. I pranced in front of that mirror, with my little cock tucked between my legs for as long as I could. But it didn't take long for the feeling to overwhelm me, and it took far less time, once I pulled up my skirt and released my throbbing cock, before I came. Standing in front of my reflection, looking at that hot slut dressed in white, the hot slut with the hard cock in her hand, I stroked once, twice, and on the third time exploded, shooting hot sticky cum onto the slutty bitch in the mirror. Stream after gooey stream, I grasped my cock tightly and hosed down the mirror, my hot milky seed dripping across my slutty female reflection.

That experience obviously wasn't the beginning, but in retrospect, I think it may have been the day that I crossed the point of no return. As I stood there, with my skirt hiked high, my panties pulled down and my hard dripping cock in my hand, I pondered my cum covered reflection. I looked myself over, from the curled locks of my long flowing hair to the points of my 4 inch heels. I primped and posed. I drew my free hand along my stocking covered thigh, and up and around my pantied bottom. I had never felt so feminine as I did at that moment, and I knew things would never be the same.

If you'd like, I could share more with you . . .

Kisses