Thought I'd get this post done for a few reasons. The first is my desire to watch the British Open, then we go to the theatre in the afternoon - making my time kinda short. The second was a comment I got from Marie, The THIRD? My God Carrie - an honest to god post? Thank you!
Marie made some comments that I thought I HAD to answer. I can see the alienation with one's self - hell, I went through it for many years. Frankly though, I tend to disagree with Therapists. I correspond quite often with Carrie and he made the point some weeks back that a lot of us TV.s/ CD's do have a tendency to 'overthink' things - which I totally agree with. Maybe it's because I'm a Scot and frugal? I don't know - but I never believed in spending money on therapists. Please believe me when I say that IF you are feeling the benefit - then just ignore me. BUT? I firmly believe that my whole outlook on myself started when I started work on actually liking myself.
This sounds bloody easy - but it took me years. I wasn't a thief, nor a drug addict. Had some damn good friends that liked me. Honestly liked my wife. Tried like hell to be a good parent to my boys - yet I hated myself, primarily because I wanted to be dressed as a woman.
Think on that. It is DAFT. Probably not much more than that. But I didn't want to harm anybody. Jesus Murphy - probably my worst imagined sin was screwing up my dommes hair! I was NOT a bad person, yet I had a temper that wouldn't quit - but basically because I detested myself.
I don't have any methods that I'd suggest to make you like yourself better. What worked for me was an honest appraisal of what I didn't like about me. Believe it or not? I had a helluva job even identifying what my bad traits were. Logic was playing no part in my self evaluation - just pure emotion.
I'm pretty damned ancient and that was about thirty years ago. But now? I probably drink a dram or two more than I should - but think of myself as a damn nice person. So Marie? Stay with your therapist if he's doing you good. But I sincerely think that self acceptance is the most necessary thing you can do - and that means cleaning your own house of any rubbish. Accept your desires. They may be daft - but they're yours - and you're not doing any harm. Just be bloody thankful that you're not a pedophile.
Christ! Give me a soap box and I'm off to the races.
Here's part 2 of that serial I started last week.
Marie made some comments that I thought I HAD to answer. I can see the alienation with one's self - hell, I went through it for many years. Frankly though, I tend to disagree with Therapists. I correspond quite often with Carrie and he made the point some weeks back that a lot of us TV.s/ CD's do have a tendency to 'overthink' things - which I totally agree with. Maybe it's because I'm a Scot and frugal? I don't know - but I never believed in spending money on therapists. Please believe me when I say that IF you are feeling the benefit - then just ignore me. BUT? I firmly believe that my whole outlook on myself started when I started work on actually liking myself.
This sounds bloody easy - but it took me years. I wasn't a thief, nor a drug addict. Had some damn good friends that liked me. Honestly liked my wife. Tried like hell to be a good parent to my boys - yet I hated myself, primarily because I wanted to be dressed as a woman.
Think on that. It is DAFT. Probably not much more than that. But I didn't want to harm anybody. Jesus Murphy - probably my worst imagined sin was screwing up my dommes hair! I was NOT a bad person, yet I had a temper that wouldn't quit - but basically because I detested myself.
I don't have any methods that I'd suggest to make you like yourself better. What worked for me was an honest appraisal of what I didn't like about me. Believe it or not? I had a helluva job even identifying what my bad traits were. Logic was playing no part in my self evaluation - just pure emotion.
I'm pretty damned ancient and that was about thirty years ago. But now? I probably drink a dram or two more than I should - but think of myself as a damn nice person. So Marie? Stay with your therapist if he's doing you good. But I sincerely think that self acceptance is the most necessary thing you can do - and that means cleaning your own house of any rubbish. Accept your desires. They may be daft - but they're yours - and you're not doing any harm. Just be bloody thankful that you're not a pedophile.
Christ! Give me a soap box and I'm off to the races.
Here's part 2 of that serial I started last week.
Part
2
"Uncle
Ron? Or maybe I should call you Auntie
Ron now? What do you have to remind me of tomorrow?"
"To buy a
paddle?"
"Very
good! And what is the paddle to be used
for?"
"To spank
me?"
"Yes. Most definitely. Now be a good little sissy and drop your
pants and get over my knees."
"I'm NOT a
sissy!" I said, starting to
sniffle, but loosening my pants as I went towards her.
"Ain't what
mom and aunt Tess used to say," she giggled "Guess they were
right! Huh?"
Then
she said. "Wait a minute! I've got an idea! Get your shoes and socks and pants off! If you have them off, I'll let you away with
the six extra spanks you were going to get!" and off she went again, giggling to herself.
This
time I hurried, and was glad I did. She
had some sort of pink stuff in her hands, but I couldn't make out what it
was. "Okay sissy Ron. Up and over" she said curtly.
And
weeping in a mix of humiliation, fear, and embarrassment, I draped my self over
her knees. I felt her hands at the
waistband of my jockey shorts, then they were yanked down and off. Then it got very uncomfortable as she was
leaning over me doing something down at my feet. I couldn't figure out what she was doing, but
it felt as if she was putting my shorts back on. Was I getting a reprieve?
But
as she was pulling them back into position, something felt odd, as if there was
elastic around the legs – and they felt lighter. Then they were snugly around my waist.
"My! Isn't that pretty. Sissy wearing pink panties! Isn't that nice
that you and mom were the same size!"
And as she spoke, she cupped her hand and gave me a little pat on my
nylon covered rump.
"You
know sissy? If you ask me real pretty
like? Maybe I won't spank you after
all"
"Honest?" I whimpered – and received a sharp blow on my
backside that made me jump.
"Don't
ever question me!" she snarled, and gave me another whack! Then she paused. "I'm waiting." She said.
And,
lying over her knees, my panty clad rump stuck in the air, I pleaded with that
young girl not to spank me. Agreed that
I was a sissy and promised to obey everything and anything she told me to
do. After about three minutes of my
total debasement, she leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Know what? You DID ask real pretty, but I just don't
know. I won't rest easy tonight if I
start to wondering if I should have paddled you or not."
Without
warning, the next blow was struck. I
squealed on a high note, and she laughed. That really angered me. Okay, I was a sissy, but damned if I was
going to cry for this demon from hell! Gritted my teeth while the whacks rained
down on me. Started to blubber at the sixth, was weeping hysterically and
pleading at the tenth, and totally ready to kiss this woman's feet when she
finished with me – as she told me to do.
"Like
your pretty pink panties?" she asked me.
"No
Carole," I mumbled.
"I'll
bet you'd learn to like them after some more spanks. Are you sure you don't
love them?"
I
took a deep breath. "Maybe a little Carole?"
She
waved the paddle. "Tell the truth.
You're ecstatic about them.
Right?"
"Yes
Carole" I capitulated.
"Good!
Mom had lots. You can use them all the time now – seeing you like them so
much. Nice ladies panties – lots of
pretty colors?"
"Yes
Carole."
"Wonderful!
So where were we? Ah yes! I was telling you what you had agreed to
do. The last thing? I have girlfriends over in the afternoons
often. I'll tell you when they're coming
of course. I'll want you to serve us
drinks and munchies – that sort of thing?
Will that be all right sissy Ron?"
She
was bright and cheerful again, as if there hadn't been a single cross
word. Came and gave me a huge hug and a
big kiss. I couldn't help it, started to weep at this evidence of affection.
"C'mon
sissy Ron" she comforted me.
"You've had a long day, and Carole was mean to you, wasn't
she?"
"Yessss"
I whispered.
"Well,
she's sorry. Lets get you to bed. You'll feel better in the morning. Come on.
There's a girl."
Snuffling
and half weeping, I wasn't aware of where she was leading me, but discovered
that we were now in a large bedroom – her mother's before, hers now. And still whispering comforting endearments,
she got my shirt off, and I was standing there in nothing but pink panties,
hugging myself in shame.
Because
I saw the feminine nightgown she had in her hands, and knew who it was
for. Unresisting, I lifted my arms and
let her slide it down my body.
"That
is SO pretty on! Isn't it?" she
asked, turning me to see my reflection.
And
I saw a sissified image of what I'd been made into looking back at me.
"Yes."
"That's
a girl. You can sleep with me
tonight."
I
almost protested that I was her uncle, then thought better of it.
"I
wouldn't have let you if you were a man.
But you're not, are you? Just a
sissy in a pretty nightgown. Like some perfume sissy?"
With
my assent, she sprayed just a little around me, then tucked me in bed. Gave me a kiss.
Then
she undressed – right in front of me!
The message was clear. I was no
threat to her. Tear stained and all,
backside burning, I was still asleep before she arrived in bed beside me.
The
following morning I came awake in my feminine nightwear, immediately humiliated
by the experiences I'd undergone the night before. Carole was gone from the bed, but I could
hear noises coming from the kitchen. I
went and showered, didn't need a shave (have very little growth) then dried
myself off. I wrapped a towel around me then went in search of Carole. I
greeted her and she gave me a good morning kiss and asked what I was looking
for.
She
smiled sweetly when I told her that I was looking for panties. Nodded approvingly. "I never thought to
tell you sissy, but I moved them into your room this morning. I also moved some
of mom's nighties in there as well.
Okay?"
I
dressed myself then joined her for breakfast that she had made. Afterwards,
wearing the apron I'd admired the night before, I did the cleanup and the
dishes from the meal. I took it off,
then freshened up, before she took me around the town and introduced me to the
President and chairwoman of the woman's
club she had mentioned. I had been
warned beforehand that there might be some resistance to my application for
membership, but to try my best. Carole waited outside for me, but that didn't
ease my mind at all, knowing the problems I would face if I failed.
But
it was hopeless from the start. Both
women were in their forties and entirely nonplussed at a man – a male –
practically pleading for membership! I
think that they finally agreed to discuss it with their membership, but only
out of kindness. It was with a great
deal of trepidation that I reported the results of my application to Carole.
The
ice princess appeared immediately.
"You didn't try hard enough!
I ought to spank you here and now" she threatened.
But
I pleaded and kissed up to her, pointing out again and again how I'd really
tried, and how the ladies had promised to discuss it with their members. This
placated her somewhat. She finally relented, smiling again.
"I'm
sorry sissy" she said. "My
fault! I should never have let you go in there improperly dressed! Lets' go!"
I
leaned back in my car seat, emotionally drained from the relief from fear and
wasn't really paying attention to where we were going. Was daydreaming when she
stopped the car. "Okay sissy! Here
we are dear!"
And
discovered when I got out of the car that I was outside a rather garish store
'Suzanne's' with a display window crammed with multi-hued ladies lingerie!
I
wanted to run away, but there were people around, and I knew that she would
catch me. Not only that, I rationalized,
maybe she was here for herself?
Paralyzed with fear and doubt, I was blind to what was going on about
me. Probably upset her by pausing for so
long. Suddenly, I yowled! Carole had my
earlobe between her thumb and finger, and was twisting it violently! And squealing and squalling I was led into
the store. It wasn't big inside, but my
noises attracted far more attention than I wanted.
"Hi
Suzie! My tormentor said to a young
blonde behind the counter. This is a sissy uncle of mine. He wants some
bras. Don't you, sissy Ron?" She gave my ear an extra tweak as she said
it.
"Oooh!"
I wailed then, knowing what was likely to happen if I didn't answer, looked up
at the girl - and trying to show some degree of normalcy, tried to smile and
said "Yes"
With
that, Carole let go of my ear. I
actually said "Thank you Carole" as Suzie pulled out a selection
of lingerie from drawers and display
stands around her. She smiled nicely
at me. "Don't be embarrassed. I've known Carole for years. You just have
to accept the fact that she's bossy and can be a bit of a bully if you let
her. But she's really nice."
Like
the true sycophant I was becoming, I smiled.
"Yes, she is." I said, trying to get some circulation back
into my maltreated ear by rubbing it.
"Well? Could you tell me your size? Any preference for color? Style?
The type of breast forms you use? "
I
gazed at her, totally lost.
"Never
thought of that." Carole laughed. "What do you recommend in the way
of forms Suzie?"
Suzie
shrugged. "Depends. There's the
forms – something like the old falsies, where he'd slide them into the
cups. They're the cheapest – but he'd
have to watch them because he'd probably
need different styles." She turned
to me, explaining. "See? You want a low décolletage? You wouldn't need the same size as you would
for a high. You might not need any at
all if you went for a 'Wonderbra'."
"Don't
get a Wonderbra dear" a woman customer standing close by said kindly to me
"They're hell on wheels to wear!"
"Oh shush Molly!
Trying to cost me a sale?" Suzie said, laughing.
Carole
laughed as well. Don't they have some
forms with silicon gel inside. More
natural?"
"Absolutely,
but they're best with adhesive. You only
need to take them off about every four days." She turned to me. "They're more expensive, but I'm told
that they give you the feeling of having real breasts."
"Is
that true" the customer asked.
"Wobble and everything do they?"
"Oh
I think he'd like that ."
Carole laughed. "Wouldn't
you dear? Sissy with tits like a girl?
All bouncy?"
Enough
was enough! "No! I would not!"
I said bravely.
"Oh
dear!" Suzie said sympathetically.
But
it was if Carole didn't hear me.
"Suzie? Do you have a
washrag in your restroom?"
"No
but I can give you one if you want." Suzie replied.
"Yes,
I'd like that." Carole said. "Sissy?
Come with me to the restroom please."
"But
I don't need to go, and anyway it has to be a ladies. . ." I faltered to a
stop, because the ice maiden was looking out from Carole's eyes.
"Coming
darling?" she asked nicely.
"Yes. Well maybe I can work up some interest"
I said, trying to laugh off my discomfiture and turning to follow her.
"There's
clean washrags in the top right hand drawer on that chest outside the restroom
door" Suzie called out after us.
Carole
nodded and when we got to the Ladies room, pulled a rag from the drawer, opened
the door invitingly and said, "Come in dear."
I
sighed and followed her in. Luckily, no one was there except us. I'd expected her to go to a stall, but
instead she went to a sink and soaked the cloth. From a soap dispenser mounted on the wall she
pumped a lot of sop onto the wet cloth, then gently squeezed out most of the
water, leaving only a lot of bubbles on the surface of the cloth.
"Sissy? You were very naughty out there. Now normally I'd give you a good spanking but
you said the word "NO" to me, and I just will not have that! Now I
want you to take this rag and wash your mouth out. I'm upset with you, and for
very good reasons. You were sulking, weren't you?"
"No
Carole. I wasn't. I just got . . . I don't know.
Angry? Defensive? You were humiliating me out there – and in
front of these people. . ."
She
was holding a cautionary hand up to silence me.
"Darling? I'm trying to help! It's obvious that I want to effeminize you, and you keep fighting
me on it. I'm not a vindictive type person, but I get upset when a sissy like
you doesn't know her place! You argue with me in front of other people
and make me lose face! Don't you
understand? I have to punish
you. I would feel demeaned inside myself
if I didn't. Honestly dear? This is for
your own good. So be a good girl and do what Carole tells you. If you don't?
Then I'll have to do it for you, then take you outside, put you over my
knees and spank you on your panties! Now
one more word from you – just one! And
that's what will happen. Now come
and do what Carole wants!"
As I reluctantly took the wet cloth from her hands she
smiled and said. "I'm feeling very
kind today, so I'll give you a hint. Figure out how much I'd wash your mouth out –
and then? Do it at least twice as much. Be very, very, thorough! I'll be watching very closely – and if you
don't? You'll know what I have to do,
don't you? Nod if you understand."
I
nodded, and went over to the sink. I couldn't help it – felt my mouth widen in
distaste at what I was having to do, but gingerly put the cloth into my
mouth. It was awful! As I used one
finger inside a fold of the cloth, I cleaned the inside of my cheeks, then my
gums and teeth then the top and underside of my tongue. I could feel my mouth
filling with foam, and I actually started swallowing some – gagging
occasionally.
I
looked at her, tears starting to flow, trying to get some idea from her facial
expression as to her degree of satisfaction, but she was just eyeing me
impassively. I decided to repeat the
process, just to be sure. Foam seemed to
be everywhere. It started getting sucked
into my nostrils because I was breathing through them – certainly not my mouth.
I
was almost finished the second cleansing, when the door opened and Suzie came
in, a fabric tape measure in my hand.
"Carole? I had an idea? Why don't we just.. . .? " She looked at me in amused shock. "You look like a mad dog!"
she said, and burst out laughing.
"Woof!" Carole barked, and joined her friend in
convulsions.
"Oh
dear!" Suzie giggled. "I need the bathroom!" and ran into the
stall. The noise that came forthwith indicated that she just made it in time.
"Please
Carole?" I tried to say, through a mouthful of foam. "Can I be
excused?"
"Yes. You did fine. You can wash your mouth out
with water now."
"Thank
you Carole" I bubbled, causing her to laugh some more. "But I meant –
can I go to the men's bathroom? I need
to go as well."
"Use
one of these stalls here. It's
appropriate for you – and Suzie doesn't mind.
Do you Suzie?"
"Not
as long as she sits down!" Suzie
called from inside the stall.
As
I sat in the stall, Suzie exited hers.
"You
were going to say something before you started that disgraceful
exhibition?" I heard Carole ask Suzie.
"Yeah. I kinda figured that you'd be up to something
like this. Thought it might save sissy some embarrassment? He could get his shirt off in here, and I
could size him for a bra right quick?"
"No. I don't think so. Cecilia – that's her name
now? I'm pretty sure she'd like to do it
out in your measuring room. Isn't that
right Cecilia?"
I
looked at my satin panties down around my ankles and thought that the name was
probably appropriate. "Yes Carole.
That would be lovely" I said.
In
the small area set aside for measuring and changing, a little while later, I stood learning about bras. It was decided
amongst the three of us that I suited Boysenberry, Teal, Ivory, and Silver
colors. White, Black, Orange and Navy
did not look good on me at all.
I
chose the satin, Lycra enhanced for most of my evening wear, and Nylon/Spandex
for everyday. All of the eight bras I
ended up buying had adjustable strap, sheer mesh underwire cups, and were back
closing. (At first I'd had problems fastening them in the back, but as the day
wore on, I rapidly became expert – much to the amusement of the two
women). Carole made a wonderful (what
else?) suggestion and I also purchased two bustiers – low décolletage , with
demi lift pads, and boned for control, back closing with tiny hook and eye
closures – very lacy and sexy. She did
allow me to take the forms out before we left, but I had to wear the teal
bustier home under my shirt.
I
suppose I may as well reveal what transpired with the breast forms, because of
what comes to pass later on in this story.
It IS embarrassing but, when I think on it? No more than anything else that happened to
me in that very short time frame.
Once
in that room, I had stripped off my shirt – I don't wear an undershirt, so
definitely felt chilly. I was quite surprised when Suzie ran a tape under
my breasts. Up until that point, I'd
always assumed that the breast size was measured around the 'points' of the
breasts. She called out that I'd be a thirty eight.
"Now? What size cup do you want Cecilia?" she
asked.
I
gazed at her dumbly. "I've no idea
Suzie. Don't know a thing about
bras."
"Boy,
are you in for an education!" Carole laughed. "Give her a 'C'
Suzie."
"Gonna
be kinda busty. But that's only my
opinion, " Suzie said. "But,
know what? I have a pair of good forms that would be just about perfect. Got them on spec last year. I can give you a good price on them if you're
interested?"
"Are
they the adhesive kind?" Carole asked.
"Yeah
– and not only that? They come with a
years supply, and it's considered one of the best. Hypo allergenic and all that good
stuff."
"Sounds
good, doesn't it Cecilia?" Carole asked me.
"Lovely
dear, " I answered, adding quickly in case she thought I was being sarcastic.
"Can't wait to try them on!"
I
was rewarded by a lovely smile and a nod of approval. Then I heard the dreadful words from Suzie.
"It'll be a big help fitting his bras if we attach them now. Want to?"
If
I was stunned by what Suzie asked, it was nothing compared to what Carole
replied.
"Nah."
She said thoughtfully. "Not just
now. Can't you fit the bras to him,
without them being attached?"
"No
problem" Suzie said cheerfully.
Don't think it'll make a gnat's ass difference to tell the truth. I'll
just use them like falsies though, if you don't mind."
"Be
my guest." Carole replied, just as cheerfully.
I
put on my fist bra – a white nylon/spandex mix with the forms slipped into the
cups.
Suzie
came and adjusted the straps – a little on one side, a little on the
other. She finally snorted through her
nose. "One's gonna be a little higher than the other Carole, her shoulders
are irregular and if I don't raise her right side, she's gonna look all uneven. Sorry."
"Don't
worry about it Suzie. No one's going to
expect her to be perfect anyway!"
Carole said brightly.
"Great!" Suzie said.
"Comfortable Cecilia?"
I
was embarrassed, but comfortable, so nodded.
She then proceeded to take special care in making tiny marks around the
top curve of the breast forms, but on my skin.
Then she had me put my hands between the breasts and the bra material
and warned me not to let them move, while she took the bra off. Then she took her marker and made some more
marks around the bottom curve.
End
of Part 2
1 comment:
Hi Bea,
Thank you for your reply in your post. Sincerely appreciated. And I agree with you that I just have to "get over over-thinking things" and be okay with myself. Harder to accomplish that one would think but there it is. Maybe this is where the therapist can help. Hope so, but I told him in no uncertain terms that I have my doubts, so we agreed that we'd be on "probationary" terms for awhile. I think that's fair.
And I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your blog(s), your writings, and your presence here. I'm very glad I found you. Your work (both fiction and otherwise) is appreciated.
Thank you again,
Marie
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