Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Still Boyish

Do You Have a Wish List?

Hannah McKnight talks abour her wish list, and gives some examples:

When I was a kid I looked longingly, almost achingly, at the beautiful lingerie that the models in catalogs were wearing. I dreamt about how amazing it would be to wear stockings and a garter belt, along with matching bra and panties. There was (and still is) something so sensual, beautiful, feminine, and almost innocent in that elaborate lingerie.

I want to wear (and I do) what I think is beautiful, cute, and sexy. Little black dresses look amazing on anyone and I love wearing them. I think a cute skirt and boots look very cute so I wear them.

Wearing a French maid outfit was on my wish list and I finally accomplished this milestone at my most recent photo shoot. I love looking at these photos and I think I nailed the look I was going for.

But as I mentioned before, my wish list is dwindling and it’s bittersweet crossing things off of the list. Like finishing your reading list. It’s like, well, what do I read (or wear) next? I like setting goals and trying to accomplish them. It all sounds so silly (and probably a little shallow) to think like this. But like my gender identity, this is how I am wired. I was born this way.

It’s kind of… well, funny that such a sexy costume can make me feel such a myriad of emotions. I felt cute but also a little… well, bittersweet (goodness I am using this word a lot here but if the stiletto fits…). In some ways the costume, like my lingerie shoot, signified getting near the end of my”to-wear” list.

I’m not quite done yet with my list but if you have some ideas, I would LOVE to hear them, lol.

Archelle: Being Popular

Sweet Androgyny

You Get Real Ones

Girlboy September

I Dream of Bubbles

Ever since Mistress Lola loosened the chains on my bimbo alter-ego, I have felt a bit like Major Tony Nelson, living with a mischievous beauty who delights in playing tricks on me.

As those of you who read this blog daily already know, Bubbles did it again yesterday, although this time it seems she thought she was doing me a faver, giving me a bit of erotic thrill in place of what I would have experienced if Mistress Lola and I had been able to meet as originally planned. I knew something had occurred when I woke from my nap somewhat later than usual.

To be fair, as much as these incidents confuse me, I do find them a bit arousing--since every submissive sissy enjoys the idea of giving up control sometimes.

Bubbles Says Hi!

Dani was, like, supposed to get a thrill from Mistress Lola today, but the Mistress had to cancel...so I thought why don't I, like, give her a special surprise?

I know Dani secretly loves the idea of having big knockers like mine...and being able to, like, display them to everybody. So I found this picture in Dani's files that she hasn't used for anything, and--

Well, here's Dani showing off her double-Ds with the big fat nipples. Oh, and the nice big bulge from her sissy-cock, too !

I can't wait until she finds it!

A Lovely Day to Be Lovely

A More Feminine Future?

Stana explains "What's Going On":

[I]t seems to me that today, more males want to be females than ever before and they are doing something about it. Today, males are crossdressing with great abandon.

Foundation sellers claim that males are their biggest customers for girdles and corsets – womenswear that were almost history, but have been brought back to life by the demand of males who are getting into female shape.

Although, the majority of middle-aged and senior crossdressing males are still closeted, there is a growing minority, who are out and about experiencing the world as “weekend women.” And there is a subset, who have abandoned the male life altogether and are living full-time as females. As a result, consultants teaching males how to be females is a booming business.

As more and more females become the breadwinners and relegate their husbands to househusbandry, there are cases where the male embraces the wifely role by crossdressing either voluntarily or by force from their spouse. Male housewife crossdressing is a very small segment of the gender revolution, but it does exist and if we believe that the “future is female,” it is likely to occur more frequently in the coming days.

The next question is “Where’s it going?” In the future, will you ask a child, “What do you want to be when you grow up – a girl or a boy?”

Archelle: Perfect Without Perfume

Comfort Sissies

Awake Too Soon

Hypno-Tranny Slut

Here to Stay

The Costs of Cross-Dressing

Hannah McKnight has some thoughts on what it takes to cross-dress successfully:

If I have a philosophy, it’s “crossdressing takes time, money, and patience”.

This side of us takes time because we learn over time. We get better at makeup the more often we put makeup on....Like a butterfly pushing its way out of a cocoon. It took time to acknowledge this side of me, to accept it wasn’t a phase, and to embrace who I was. Each stage took time, it took a long time to get to where I am today.

Crossdressing or presenting en femme isn’t cheap, at least it isn’t for me. Sure, I can put panties or a nightgown on and I am crossdressing. It’s about as inexpensive as crossdressing gets. But being en femme is another story altogether.

And finally, patience. This is the hardest part for me.

I got to thinking about all of this a couple weeks ago when I was getting dressed. In the early days my wife and I would have a girls night on Saturdays and I would get dolled up. It took about thirty minutes to get dressed and do my makeup. These days it takes that same amount of time to just put on my corset, stockings, pads, and forms. Being en femme takes more prep work and planning than it used to.

[O]nce you start thinking about this other than about clothes, you need to know that this is a side of yourself that you need to invest your time in, spend your money on, and be kind to yourself while you are being patient.

Archelle Moves Like a Prissy Pansy

Don't Look Now

Just Not Fair

Pool Party Prep

Figures Show

Sissiteen September

Cross-D-R: The Sissy Ranch, part two

The next morning, Honeypie awoke in his cabin, feeling content, happy, and incredibly aroused. His hands strayed to his sissy-cock and began to stroke it, feeling it grow. But, as he neared the brink of orgasm, something stopped him—an inner voice that told him he must never spurt cock-cream without the permission of one of the ranch staff.

He got up, and changed into one of the outfits left for him. There was a sheer blouse, a suede vest, a plaid skirt with a ruffle and a split up the front, boots with six-inch heels, and—of course—a Stetson. He practiced walking and posing in his new cowgirl attire, realizing that every glimpse of himself in the mirror only heightened his arousal and his desire to submit to some lovely dominatrix. Once dressed, Honeypie went to the dining hall for breakfast. There, he saw that everyone was dressed in Western gear, but with subtle differences.

The guests were all in very feminine versions—skirts, ruffles, high-heeled boots (some even had bare midriffs)—but the staff were in calico shirts and jeans, with standard cowboy boots. There was no doubt as to which group was in charge. Carla and Astra were seated together and they called him to their table.

“Wow, Honeypie…you’re quite the little filly,” Astra said, smiling. She glanced at his legs, partially revealed by the split in his skirt. “All set for riding, too, I see—though I think you’ll look very girly if you go side-saddle.”

“But there’s some other things you need to do first,” Carla noted. “Your second orientation session is scheduled for right after breakfast, so finish eating and I’ll take you over to the training center.”

So it was that, by nine o’clock, Honeypie was again bound into the training chair, with the mesmerizing scent in the air, as he watched another mind-altering video presentation. “Welcome back,” said the image of Vera Demanden. “Today we will focus on voice and attitude. Trying as hard as you can imitate what you hear, repeat: I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy.”

“I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy,” Honeypie responded…and a mild shock went through him.

“Not close enough,” the training program said. “Again: I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy.”

Trying his best to imitate the girlish tones of the program, Honeypie repeated, “I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy….” and received another shock.

It went on like that for several hours, until Honeypie’s voice and tone were as feminine and gentle as the program’s. “Very good,” the program complimented him. “You will speak that way at all times, from now on.” And the bonds holding him to the chair snapped loose and Carla re-entered the room.

On seeing her, Honeypie immediately rose to his feet and curtseyed, saying, in that same sweet voice, “I am a silly, simpering, submissive sissy, Ms. Carla. How may I assist you?”

Carla smiled. “Follow me to the stables, Honeypie….it’s time you learned how a sissy rides….and is ridden.”

At the stables, they found mounts already prepared—Carla’s a spirited steed with a standard Western saddle, Honeypie’s a gentle mare fitted out with a side saddle. The groom, a pretty girl in a short fringed skirt, assisted Honeypie to mount. “Open the front of that lovely skirt,” Carla advised. “Let’s see those gorgeous gams of yours we ride.”

Honeypie did as instructed, his long legs fully revealed. Carla took the reins of his horse and led him to the corral. “Now, take it easy your first time, dear…” she said as she handed him the reins and whispered to the horse, “Giddyap”. The mare started off at a gentle canter as Honeypie grew used to the bounce of its movements and learned how to maintain her balance. After a few turns around the corral, Carla called the groom over to help Honeypie dismount.

“It’s time for your second riding lesson, Honeypie,” Carla said, as she led him to a secluded part of the stable.

“Lay down in the hay,” she directed him, “on your back.” She slid off her jeans and panties, and Honeypie gasped at the sight of her naked pussy. She sat on his chest, her pussy still clearly visible and said, “Take a deep breath….”

He did so and immediately recognized that same intoxicating, mesmerizing aroma from the training room and he drifted into a light trance. “That’s right, Honeypie, that aroma will always send you drifting into trance,” Carla said, as she slid up his torso and centered her pussy over his face. “Now, taste my pussy and fall further into the power of feminine dominance.” She began rocking on his face, letting his lips and tongue bring her to arousal. “Feel me ride you like a pony,” she said, grunting a bit as her orgasm approached. “I will ride you until I am quite satisfied and you completely submit to your new life.”

Fifteen minutes later, Carla was writhing from her third orgasm, and Honeypie had flooded his panties with cock-cream. Carla stood and said, “That concludes your riding lessons. Now, go clean up for dinner.”

That evening, as dinner was ending, an announcement came over the loudspeaker. “Will Miss Honeypie please report to Suite 001 in the staff building….”

A buzz went through the room among the more experienced girls. “Suite 001…what has he done? Is he being punished? Rewarded?” Honeypie stood and excused himself, asking directions to the staff building.

“It’s the big house on the hill,” one of the staff members informed him. “And Suite 001 is on the top floor, right in front.” She smiled secretively as she spoke.

He made his way to that big house, clearly the headquarters for the ranch. As he entered, it was clear he was expected, since the staff indicated for him to go up the wide, winding staircase to the top floor. He reached that landing and see there was only one door there, marked Suite 001. He knocked and a voice from within said, “Come right in, Honeypie.” He entered and saw a beautiful middle-aged woman, in her own version of the Western wear everyone wore at the ranch. She rose from her seat and came to him, offering her hand. “I am Vera Demanden. I own Cross-D-R.”

Honeypie curtseyed as he took her hand and kissed it. She smiled and said, “Sweetly done…you must be a quick learner since you’ve scarcely been here two days.” She resumed her seat and gestured for Honeypie to take the one opposite her. “There are certain of our guests I keep an eye on…and I’ve been watching you since you first applied to come here. I suspect you are very special.”

Honeypie blushed. “Special, Ms. Demanden? How do you mean?” he asked.

“You are a natural submissive,” she replied. “We get very few of those. Most of our guests are sent here by their wives, mothers, or fiances…and it takes a lot to remake them into the simpering sissies you have seen around you since you arrived. You fell into the routine almost upon arrival…the training we have done has merely reinforced your innate submission and femininity.”

Ms. Demanden pressed a button on her desk and the room filled with that special odor of feminine arousal. Honeypie took a deep breath and his eyes closed. “Ah, you recognize that aroma? Whenever you experience that scent you will sink into an erotic trance in which your mind becomes an open book upon which we can write. We have already altered the way in which you become aroused and the way in which you want to have sex. In this final session, before I make you a permanent part of our community, I will alter the way you think of yourself.”

She turned on her big-screen TV, directly in front of Honeypie. It filled with the same kind of hypnotic images and phrases he remembered from the training room, but this time the accompanying voice was Ms. Demanden, live and present. “You still think of yourself as male, don’t you? As a man who likes to wear girlish things?”

“Yes, Ms. Demanden,” he murmured.

“You are not male…not anymore. But neither are you female,” she told him. “You are a sissy…a submissive who exists between the two genders—male in body, but female In mind and behavior. Not transgender, either—you have no interest in losing your male attributes. A sissy is a very special thing—a lovely toy for the women in its life, a doll with wonderful…attachments…completely under the control of the dominant women around it.”

“A toy, a doll…” Honeypie murmured in agreement.

“You will stay here as our plaything, to be used by staff and select guests,” Ms. Demanden continued. “I’m sure you will enjoy your new life as the premier feature of our sissy ranch!”

THE END

Archelle Has the Best Boobs

The Moment Arrives

Mystical Arousal Figured Out

I've concluded my surprising aroused feelings yesterday were another prank played by my bimbo alter ego, Bubbles. This morning, as I lay awake before rising, I thought back to how it felt yesterday when I was awaking from my nap--and I realized I had no clear memory of that usual hazy, half-waking feeling. Instead, it was as if I had simply suddenly come to consciousness...with my nipples hard and erect and my mind feeling as if it had experienced an erotic stimulation.

Bubbbles had "leaked out" as my mind roused from slumber and decided to present me with a "gift".

Mystical Arousal

An hour or so ago, I awoke from my usual morning nap...and my nipples were hard and erect, almost as if someone had been playing with them or even sucking on them. Naturally, this had me feeling very aroused....and quite confused, because I had no idea what could have caused this. I do not remember having had an erotic dream (the usual cause of such arousal) and I certainly wasn't playing with myself in my sleep...or at least I don't think I was....

Beddy-Bye

Hypno-Pic

True Confessions September