Monday, November 30, 2009

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.


Monday, November 23, 2009

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 . . .