Thanks Carrie for some well thought out aspects in your previous post. I also saw one comment where the writer's mom wanted a girl - and he also wondered if this had been 'something' that led him into further thoughts and actions.
Again, I'll stress that too much thinking about this stuff can drive a person nuts. It took me forever, but I finally accepted Popeye's feelings about himself - "I yam what I yam". Feel the same. I'm not athletic. Certainly not good looking - and there's a whole bunch of other things that I'd prefer to be - but I accepted the lack of them years ago. But I'm supposed to worry because I want to dress in women's clothes?
C'mon! It just would make me look bloody stupid - that's all. I don't want to harm anybody. I don't steal. I don't cheat. I have a friggin stupid fantasy in my sexual themes. I'd almost bet that just about everybody has some daftness in their sexual fantasies. Or maybe you want to be unique? Your fantasy isn't good enough?
I certainly can't say that I know. But in biblical times, they had transvestites. Who's to say that genetics aren't involved? If it IS a genetic trait that is passed down - skipping some generations? Wouldn't all this worrying about your wants, then be a massive waste of time and energy?
I'm curious about why I am the way I am. Have the feeling that a cross eyed baby sitter was involved somehow. But who cares? What in hell's name would I do if I ever found out? Burn all the panties and nightdresses I used to wear? Start hitting women?
I enjoyed my penis - gave me a LOT of fun. Cut it off? Never crossed my mind. So my question remains for you guys who wonder all of the time. Say you found out what the cause was - and most importantly - you could 'fix' yourself. WOULD YOU DO IT? (Be honest now!)
You know? If you haven't already guessed it? Getting me off a soap box is damned near impossible. The above was supposed to be a sentence or two. Sorry.
But here's part 6 of my latest serial. I hope that you are enjoying it.
A Pretty Girl is Like a Malady
Again, I'll stress that too much thinking about this stuff can drive a person nuts. It took me forever, but I finally accepted Popeye's feelings about himself - "I yam what I yam". Feel the same. I'm not athletic. Certainly not good looking - and there's a whole bunch of other things that I'd prefer to be - but I accepted the lack of them years ago. But I'm supposed to worry because I want to dress in women's clothes?
C'mon! It just would make me look bloody stupid - that's all. I don't want to harm anybody. I don't steal. I don't cheat. I have a friggin stupid fantasy in my sexual themes. I'd almost bet that just about everybody has some daftness in their sexual fantasies. Or maybe you want to be unique? Your fantasy isn't good enough?
I certainly can't say that I know. But in biblical times, they had transvestites. Who's to say that genetics aren't involved? If it IS a genetic trait that is passed down - skipping some generations? Wouldn't all this worrying about your wants, then be a massive waste of time and energy?
I'm curious about why I am the way I am. Have the feeling that a cross eyed baby sitter was involved somehow. But who cares? What in hell's name would I do if I ever found out? Burn all the panties and nightdresses I used to wear? Start hitting women?
I enjoyed my penis - gave me a LOT of fun. Cut it off? Never crossed my mind. So my question remains for you guys who wonder all of the time. Say you found out what the cause was - and most importantly - you could 'fix' yourself. WOULD YOU DO IT? (Be honest now!)
You know? If you haven't already guessed it? Getting me off a soap box is damned near impossible. The above was supposed to be a sentence or two. Sorry.
But here's part 6 of my latest serial. I hope that you are enjoying it.
A Pretty Girl is Like a Malady
Part
6
"I'm going to
shower and change now Cecilia" she told me. "But! That reminds me. After Elaine leaves, go and shower. But
before you do? There's a blue jar filled
with cream beside your bathroom
sink. It's a depilatory. I want you to
rub it in all over your bod then wait for a full minute before you have your
shower. You'll be nice and smooth. Trust me, you'll be very sorry if you miss
any. And by the way? Shave under your arms as well."
She
didn't wait for any response from me. I shrugged. Didn't see much sense in making myself any
smoother than I was, but didn't see any sense in prolonging any conversations
with Carole – things had a tendency to get out of hand when I talked too much,
I'd discovered.
Elaine
actually appeared before Carole. Came
and gave me a big hug and a kiss.
"Hi honey!" she said. "You were great last night,
especially the second time." She
leered at me and twirled a non-existent moustache. "Wanna do it again some time?"
I
felt the heat rising up my face as I gave her a coquettish smile
"Maybe. But only if you promise to
behave yourself!"
"Sure
honey! Like this?" And she came back to me and fondled my
breasts openly.
"GIRLS!
Girls! Didn't you get enough of her last
night Elaine?" Carole asked from
the doorway.
My
blush doubled in intensity as I realized that Carole may have seen my flirting
as well as Elaine fondling me so aggressively.
"She
was great!" Elaine laughed.
"Maybe needs a bit more breaking in? I'll volunteer if you want."
Carole
tapped her watch. "Talking about
breaking in?" she said in a suggestive tone of voice.
"Oh
yes!" Elaine answered. "Guess
I'd better eat and run."
"Plenty
of time dear. Enjoy your breakfast. I
was just reminding you, that's all."
We
spent about forty five minutes having breakfast. Actually, it was a very pleasant interlude. I
felt somewhat strange in all of my feminine finery. Elaine was wearing the dress she'd worn the
night before – a little rumpled, but she hadn't obviously expected to stay
over, so it was understandable.
Carole
looked quietly elegant in an orange Shantung silk sheath, with a strand of very
nice pearls around her neck, and earrings to match.
Nonetheless,
the difference in our apparel didn't seem to matter, we chatted amicably about
movie stars and who was pretty and who was handsome, and some trivia about
televisions shows. I was getting an ache
in my back though and wondered if the fact that I was braless was causing it (I
discovered later that it was). Finally, Elaine thanked me for a wonderful
night, gave me a long, lingering kiss, then left. Carole put on an apron. "I'll do the
clean up. Just go and get ready. Wear a
bra and panties – no bustier this morning.
Okay? You can wear your regular
clothes over them. Don't take too long though."
"Okay
Carole. Thanks for doing the clean up
for me." I said.
"You're
welcome Cecilia" she smiled.
I
applied the depilatory, just like she told me, then showered a minute later.
Was actually quite surprised to see the amount of hair that washed of my body.
Got a little dry mouthed at the thought that I had maybe been a little careless
- thinking of what Carole had said about me being sorry if I missed any
spots. Shook my head. I was getting silly. How was she to know? Inspect every square
inch of me? I wouldn't put it past her,
I thought, but grinned. Highly unlikely!
When
I got downstairs I was doubly surprised.
Shannon was there, wearing jeans tucked into leather cowboy boots, and a
tank top. She looked nice, but decidedly
informal. Carole, on the other hand, was
now wearing a very elegant hat and elbow length gloves.
"Did
you remember to use that cream?" she asked.
"Yes
Carole." I said meekly. "Hi Shannon!"
"Hi
Cecilia. Have a good night?" she
responded, grinning.
I
blushed again.
We
left the house a few minutes later.
Shannon drove us in her car.
Drove to an old barn of a place with quite a lot of late model cars –
mostly expensive imports – parked in the trampled dirt surrounding the place.
I
was confused from the moment we got
inside – there was a mass – a great many young ladies milling about at the
doorway to a rather large room. All of
them were elegantly dressed for that time of the day, lots of long afternoon
dresses, and milliners must have had a field day, because I'd never seen so
many hats. Again though, as far as I
could see, I was the only male there. I
could see now why Carole was dressed so properly. She fitted right in. Shannon, in her casual outfit was there for
something different
I
saw a crudely drawn banner stuck on the wall "Trainer's Rooms" and an
arrow pointing down a hallway but didn't pay much attention to it. Carole waved and smiled to a group of young
ladies. Turned to me.
"I'm
going to leave you with Shannon.
Now? You'd better be good. Understand?
I mean this. Don't make me
have to come to you now!"
"I'll
be good Carole." I said meekly.
"Damn
right you will!" Shannon said sharply. "Carole? What makes you think I can't handle
her?"
Carole
gave her friend a quick hug. "I'm sorry dear. No offense.
I just thought – well he might get skittish. You know?"
For
some reason Shannon laughed at this. "OH!
Yeah. I guess you're
forgiven. See you later."
With
that she led me down the hallway and around a corner. We passed a few doorways, then walked into a
room that had the door open. Shannon shut the door behind us. "Hi there Rose! Everything ready?"
Rose
was a rather plump, pretty girl, with loose brown hair tied back with a ribbon
and wearing a white smock. She stood
beside the major piece of furniture in the room, a large table that seemed very
low – no more than eighteen inches high. There was a smaller table, of regular
height up against a wall. On it was what
appeared to be a Sterno heater with a very low flame heating what appeared to
be large coffee can. There were some other squeeze bottles and what looked to
be a large roll of white bandages on the table beside the heater. Other than a couple of chairs and some hooks in the walls, that seemed to be
it. There was a door on one wall that was open just enough to identify it as a
bathroom.
Rose
smiled nicely. "Hi Shannon. This Cecilia?"
"Yes. Cecilia?
Say hi to Rose. Better be nice to her, or she might get her own back and
hurt you!"
Rose
blushed prettily. "Oh Shannon! Stop
it! Don't listen to her Cecilia. My job
is to make sure I don't hurt you.
Just strip down to your undies please.
You can hang your clothes up on these hooks."
She
was so matter of fact about it that I stared for a moment too long.
"She
doesn't care what you look like – and she won't look while you're undressing,
so just do as she tells you. She'll have
a robe for you in a minute."
Shannon said. "Get a move
on!"
It
felt strange stripping down to my bra and panties in front of a stranger, but
I'd learned not to dawdle. Rose had
turned her back, but once she sensed I was finished turned around.
"Oh! I'm sorry dear. Hadn't thought! Take your bra off too, will
you please?"
A
strange reversal I thought, unhooking my bra and letting my breasts go free. A
few days earlier, I'd have died of embarrassment at having a young woman see me
in a bra. Now I was mortally humiliated at being seen without one.
"Let
me see you close up" Rose said, coming to me and peering at my skin.
"This should be easy Shannon. He
doesn't have much hair. Have you ever
been waxed before Cecilia?"
"No."
I said, then cautiously asked. "Waxed? Does it hurt?"
They
both laughed at this. "You'll tingle a few times," Rose said.
"But honestly? If I do my job
right? It should be a fairly pleasant
experience for you." She examined
my frontage. "Mind if I say this dear?
These are very pretty breasts. Look very natural." Then she handed me a short robe of some soft,
almost translucent material. "Slip this on love. Then go and lie on the
table please. Face up to start"
I
did as she asked.
"Comfy?"
she asked, slipping a pillow under my head.
"I
guess so" I said uneasily.
"Great!" she said.
"Let's get started then. Get
a look at your legs and thighs first"
With
that, she unceremoniously pushed my robe back up out of the way and caressed my
upper thigh with her fingertips.
"Good! You had him use that depilatory cream I gave
you Shannon?"
"Yeah. Well Carole had him use it this morning, as
far as I know" Shannon replied.
"Really
good!" Rose enthused "I'd worried about how much time you had
given me, but this shouldn't be too bad. Just a little clean up on the thighs
and it's more a light down than a heavy growth everywhere else. Don't see any problems."
"Good."
Shannon said. "I'll leave him in your capable hands. I'll walk down and
grab a beer, and change. Give me a yell if he gives you any trouble."
"Oh,
I can tell. He won't be any trouble at
all, will he?" Said Rose.
"Gives me any? Why, I'll tickle his
tummy!" With that, she did just
that. I giggled girlishly. Shannon
smiled and waved silently. Left me with
Rose. She spoke quietly in my ear.
"I
figure we may as well get the worst over first. Your upper and inner thighs are
probably the most sensitive, but you're very fortunate, having such a light
growth. You're less hirsute than many
girls I've done, but it's still going to tingle more than a little. But I want you to tell me when it hurts,
okay? I'll stop then."
She
picked up the can from the heater and laid it in the table beside us. Dipped a finger into the can "Just right!" she said, wiping her
fingers on a towel, then taking a brush she dipped it into the can as
well.
"This'll
be a little warm at first, but you'll get used to it. I promise." She said, starting to paint
a strip of what felt like warm motor oil down my thigh.
She
was right. It was a little hotter than
warm, but bearable. She painted a strip about six inches wide and from my panty
line to above my knees. Then she quickly
cut two lengths of the bandages down and laid them side by side, on top of the
wax, and started kneading them into the hardening material with her
fingertips. In the few moments it took
her to do this, I could feel the wax congeal on my skin.
"Gonna
sting a little!" she warned me, and quickly zipped the bandages away.
It
DID sting a bit, but was pleasant more than anything else, especially when she
grunted in approval and applied a sweet smelling oil over the area.
"You're not going to have any problems at all dear. That lot came right off. Sometimes? I may have to go over some areas three or
four times, and that can get sore, but you'll have no problems at all. And know what? Just wait until you put some nice undies on
after this – and stockings? You'll swear you've died and gone to
heaven!"
And
chattering away she proceeded to work on me for the next hour or so. She asked some questions about how Carole
head "broken me in" which I thought a strange choice of words and
were quite personal. But she was SO
pleasant that I ended up telling her just about everything, getting quite
excited sexually at times. She hardly
seemed to notice this, except one or twice apologized and sort of 'flipped' my
erection sharply with her index fingernail – which cooled me down for a while.
She always said "Later!" as she did this, which was another thing
that puzzled me.
Then
Shannon came in carrying a large bag.
She had changed into a rather strange outfit, tight white pants, with
the cuffs stuffed into a pair of long boots. She also wore a very colorful shirt. It was long sleeved and tight at the
wrists. Looked like silk. I was puzzled at her choice of colors –
bright orange and white – not an arrangement that particularly suited her.
"Hi
Rose! Almost finished.?"
"Perfect
timing!" Rose said. "Just let me finish rubbing in some oil
here." And her fingers were giving
me the light massage that I was beginning to love.
Right
then, a quick knock on the door was followed by four young girls – I'd have
guessed sixteen years old at the most, came in without waiting for an
invitation. They were all chattering
away excitedly. They were all blonde,
with almost identical hairstyles. I noticed that they all wore translucent
latex gloves. One carried a large pitcher with what looked like gray foamy
water in it.
"Oh
goody!" One said. "Is he ready
for us Rose?"
Shannon
answered for her. "Yes. Bye Cecilia see you in a little while. Coming Rose?"
"Yes!" said Rose. "Bye Cecilia! Lot's of luck!" She gave me a light pat on the bottom. "He's all yours girls," she said,
and left the room with Shannon.
I
had been lying on the table face down, But started to get up, with the
intention of putting my robe on. "No dear! Stay down!" One of the
newcomers said, giving me a sharp spank.
"Just lay on your side please." Then she giggled as I obeyed quickly.
"Someone's broken this one in quite well." She laughed.
Then,
to my horror, three of them came around to the side I was facing and put their
hands on me. I wondered why, for just a
second, then found out. With a totally unexpected series of actions, my back
passage was lubricated and I felt the coolness of a plastic pipe being
inserted.
"What
in heaven's name are you doing!" I squealed indignantly.
"Gonna
make you nice and clean – inside and out"
somebody said.
"Trust
us" another one added. "This might save you a great deal of
embarrassment You'll thank us later
on. Lie still now!"
And
they were giving me an enema!
I
could feel the liquid flow into me and the start of the pressure building in my
bowels. Knew that if I struggled, it
would just make control of my rectal muscles that much more difficult – and if
I dislodged the pipe? Oh god, what a
mess it would be! Accordingly, I
surrendered and laid quietly.
"That's
a good boy!" one said, and patted my rump approvingly. "Won't be long now."
A
few minutes later, I was running for the bathroom, with the girls calling out
encouragement as I emptied myself.
Finally, I cleaned myself off and went back into the room.
"That's
a good boy! Back onto the table
now. But kneel this time – on your hands
and knees, if you will?" one of the group said.
Wearily,
I complied, then noticed that a bucket of water had appeared from nowhere. Two of the girls dipped soft sponges into the
bucket then came and started sponging me all over – and I mean, all over. Helplessly I continued to kneel while my
genitals were washed lovingly with the scented, warm, water.. As one girl washed the front, the other was
invading my back passage. With all of
these ministrations, I attained a major erection.
"Oh yummy!" the one who was washing me at
the front said. "Look what I found!"
And she began to rub the soapy soft sponge up and down, up and down, on
my member.
"Oh
please!" I protested weakly – but
to absolutely no avail. As I started to
spasm she put the sponge to catch my juices.
I almost collapsed onto the table, but a sharp spank had me keep my
position, even though my arms and legs were trembling with weakness.
"My
turn now" said the one at the back – and her fingers were up inside me! –
all slithery from the soapy water. I
couldn't believe it she was deliberately moving her fingers in and out of me
with no more emotion than she would use in washing her hands. To my total disbelief I found myself getting
another erection! I turned my head to
protest this new assault on my character and, by doing so, missed what the girl
working on my front was up to – she was slipping some sort of ring down and
over my penis! I was able to see the final results of her handiwork easily by
turning my head back again. The ring
seemed to be made of some sort of vinyl or plastic, and had two smaller
circular rings linked to it, one at each side. For some strange reason, the set
up was having a peculiar effect on me - I couldn't lose my erection!
Then
I was being laved by cool fresh water.
It felt deliciously cool, and I relaxed.
The toweling that followed was another salve to my injured pride – then
my two attendants stepped aside and the other two started gently administering
some sort of scented lotion or oil, all over my body. This felt absolutely
wonderful – especially as the girls were making soft little comforting noises
as they gently rubbed my skin with their soft fingers. My still-erect member throbbed with pleasure.
"Okay
Cecilia" one of them said. "Would you change position please? Sit back, but stay on your knees?" Gratefully, I did as I was told – I was
getting a little stiff from being too long in the one position – but the
gratitude didn't last long as a new series of indignities started to be
showered on me.
End
of part 6
1 comment:
Hi Bea and Carrie,
I very much appreciate your thoughts and sharing, which gives me some very appreciated support. I'd like to write longer now but don't have much time. (My work and home life is crazy-busy.
To answer Bea's questions, at least for me:
1) Why do I care to determine where "all this came from"? A: I suppose I'm looking for some justification, perhaps an excuse, that makes it okay. Of course as I think about it, I don't need an excuse for why I became an EE, or like certain kinds of books, do I?
2) If I could undo it all and not have these desires and predilections, would I? My first reaction is, "In a heartbeat!" But again, on further reflection, I don't know. First, we don't know what others' experiences are really like. Maybe it would be worse. And, I suppose, one desire might very well be replaced by another.
I think you're both right and admirable that you have come to terms with all this and I hope to join you. I'm working on it.
Thanks again for giving me some space and support.
Hugs,
Marie
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