Friday, May 30, 2008
If you're old enough, you watched her grow up from a little girl who didn't believe in Santa into a teenager who could believably transform into a sexy stripper...but all the while, Natalie Wood remained the girl next door. And that is her appeal--for all her sexiness, she was still an attainable ideal.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
" I can’t believe this!" Sheila exclaimed. "A C-minus in math!? How can that absolute prig of a teacher give me a C-minus?"
"Me, too—especially after the way he stares at our legs and boobs," Rachel agreed.
The two teenyboppers stared at their report cards, ignoring their hamburgers and fries, as they commiserated at the local hangout. "Yeah—Ross is such a secret pervert. Always trying to seem so proper and in control, as if we don’t feel his eyes on us all the time," Sheila said.
"Hey, girls." It was Ms. Conners, the gym teacher who greeted them. "Why so down?" They showed her the report cards. "Ross gave you each a C-minus? I’ve seen your classwork and tests—what’s he thinking of?"
"I think he’s thinking of seeing what we’ll do to get our grades back up," Rachel suggested.
"You don’t mean—" Ms. Conners began.
"Yes, I do mean that he wants some kind of sexual payback," Rachel insisted. "He pretends to be the model of decorum, but…"
"…but he stares at all you girls as if he can’t wait to get his hands on you," Ms. Conners laughed. The girls stared in surprise. "You think I never noticed? Oh, girls, it’s not you Chris Ross wants—it’s your clothes! He’s a transvestite!"
"A what?" both girls asked.
"He likes to dress in women’s clothing…and it seems he has a fixation on the teen-age look," Ms. Conners explained. "I used to date him, about two years ago, and I caught him at it one time. When I asked where he got the clothes, he said he’d used grades to blackmail a student into lending him her outfits, from the little bras right up to the little skirts! I thought he’d learned a lesson when I threatened to report him, but I guess he’s back to his old ways!"
"What can we do?" Rachel asked. "If we report this, it’s just a rumor."
"Leave it to me," Ms. Conners replied.
Becky Conners called Chris Ross that evening, asking him to stop by to discuss a possible interdisciplinary project between his math classes and her gym classes. When he arrived, Becky was dressed in an outfit she knew would keep his attention focussed everywhere but schoolwork.
Her long blonde hair hung straight to her shoulders, in a style much younger in appearance than her usual look. She wore a pink sweater with a matching pink miniskirt that ended a full seven inches above her knees. She wore pink satin sandals with criss-crossed ankle straps and four-inch heels. In other words, she was the model of the type of girl Chris Ross longed to be himself.
Sure enough, when Chris arrived at 7:30, he gasped at the sight of his former girlfriend and colleague in her teen-aged appearance. "You like?" she asked, teasing. "Of course, you do. I knew you would."
"What’s going on, Becky?" he asked, nervously.
"I’m afraid this has nothing to do with any interdisciplinary project, Chris. Although, it might have something to do with disciplining you," Becky answered. "I know that you’re back to your old tricks of blackmailing the girls in your classes to supply clothes and help make you over. I’ve talked to Rachel and Sheila."
Chris gulped. "Are you going to report me this time?"
"No, nothing so mundane," she replied. "Do you remember that therapy seminar we both attended, back when we were going together? The one with the introductory course in hypnotism?"
"Well, I kept up on my studies with that instructor…and she filled me in on a little secret," Becky told him. "You see, once a subject has been given a trigger for a hypnotic state, it never really disappears. It just lies dormant and gets buried…but it can be reactivated, in the right circumstances—like when the subject is highly aroused.
"Just like you are now, sweetie."
Chris looked down at his crotch. Yes, the image of the beautiful Becky in his beloved teen-aged clothing, and the thought of being controlled by her—as he’d once dreamed he’d be—had his cock swelling in his trousers.
Becky looked him in the eye. "Class is in session," she said…and Chris’s eyes fluttered shut, his head and shoulders slumped as he dropped back into the hypnotic trance he had first experienced more than two years ago.
"OK, girls," Becky called, "it’s safe to come out now."
Rachel and Sheila entered from the bedroom, giggling, but astonished by what their mentor had accomplished. "What now?" they asked.
"Time to get him dressed, of course!" Becky laughed.
One hour later, they had completed their task. Chris Ross’s short dark hair had been covered with a mass of auburn curls that fell to his shoulders. His face had been lightly made up to bring our its feminine side. He wore a choker collar and an orange crop-top sweater that left his midriff exposed. Below that came a black miniskirt, black thigh-high ribbed tights, and black pumps with a chunky four-inch heel and half-inch platform soles.
"So, now what?" Sheila asked. "Do we just send him out of here, so he can be embarrassed by his clothes?"
"That’s much too easy," Becky argued. "His mind is open to all sorts of interesting changes." She turned to her transformed colleague: "Chris, can you hear me?"
"Yes, I hear you, Becky," he answered, dully.
"Very good. Now, I’m about to give you some very important instructions. You will listen and do everything I tell you." Becky turned back to the girls. "We’re about to create our own little ‘Clueless’ teeny-bopper!"
More to come
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
And so it went through the weekend...with Rigg and Applegate tied as I went to bed on Memorial Day. But then I woke up this morning to see an onslaught of new votes for Natalie Wood. What? Did you all watch The Great Race when it was on this weekend or something?
This is looking to be an interesting result.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
The party was in full swing. Angela had arranged for the celebration in honor of the signing of Howard Electronics as a client for Venus Force at her own penthouse apartment. And she had invited not only the top ad buyers from all the networks and national magazines, but also her own circle of friends from the city's dominant lesbian community.
She looked across the room. Yes, there were Jennifer and Susan, with their respective hypnotically transformed submissives, Dani and Tammy. And the party was filled with many other dommes, many of whom seemed to have latched on to one of the ad execs. "Good," thought Angela. "The more we control the industry, the easier time we'll all have of it."
Angela herself had dressed in a halter-necked black column gown, with her blonde hair cropped short, and her makeup dramatically intense. She had put Stephanie into her teenage tease mode, in a short flared blue skirt, a black blouse tied off to reveal her midriff, bare legs and white sandals with spike heels. Many of the men in the room seemed drawn to the "girl" in their midst. Angela laughed at them trying to break Stephanie's "lesbian" indoctrination.
At a desk in the center of the room was displayed the Venus Force-designed campaign for Howard Electronics, and the contract. Pens were arranged for both Angela and Carl Howard to sign the documents. But there was a tense whisper that circulated through the room: "Where was Carl Howard?" Had he backed out?
But Angela seemed unconcerned. She stepped up to the temporary stage and spoke to the crowd. "Before we get on with the central ceremony of the evening, we have some entertainment. Many of you know of my interest in hypnosis, so I've invited a friend to give us a demonstration." She extended her hand and Jennifer came to the front of the crowd.
"Thank you, Angela," Jennifer began. She scanned the crowd, then picked out a couple. "Dorothy--I see you've made a new friend this evening," she said to the woman, who was standing with her arm around Irv Marshall, the chief ad buyer for the country's biggest newsmagazine. "Think you could convince your friend to volunteer for this?"
Dorothy whispered in Irv's ear and, blushing, he agreed, striding to the stage with Dorothy at his side. Jennifer took his hands in hers and began speaking softly to him, gradually inducing a hypnotic trance. The audience watched spellbound as his head began to droop onto his chest. Then Jennifer snapped her fingers and his eyes popped open, seemingly alert.
"Oh, he's still under," Jennifer assured them. "It's just easier to do this while they can move somewhat on their own." She turned to Dorothy. "Any ideas?" Dorothy whispered to her. "I thought so."
In short order, Jennifer had the mesmerized man stripped to his
shorts...then gave him cover while he swapped them for a pair of pink satin panties. A matching bra followed. Then she allowed him to redress in his suit. Dorothy assisted in adding a full coating of makeup. "Now, Irv, you will be completely unaware of the changes we have made just now...unless Dorothy or I say lingerie and lipstick to you. Then you will know that you are partially cross-dressed and you will answer only to the name Irene. And you will act accordingly--like a sophisticated flirt."
Moments later, Jennifer awakened Irv and held a mirror to his face. He had no reaction. "Tell me, Irv," Dorothy asked, "do you like lingerie and lipstick?"
Instantly, his whole demeanor changed. His hands fluttered, his lashes batted, and he answered in a breathy contralto, "Of course, I do, Dorothy. Why else would I dress this way? And my name is Irene--you know that!"
The audience laughed as Dorothy led her feminized companion away, all of them still unaware of how many might face the same fate if they continued their relationships with the companions of the evening.
Throughout all this, few had noticed the attractive maid who had served and flirted with them all night. The girl's outfit was a black vinyl dress over short stiff white petticoats, accessorized with a white apron, gloves and a lacy cap set in her long strawberry curls. Her legs were in white knee-high stockings with lacy frills at the top and perched on black patent pumps with ankle straps and six-inch heels.
But now Angela moved to the desk with the contract. "It's time for the final moment of our celebration," she said. "Coral, will you come here, please?"
The maid moved to the desk. "Switch on," Angela said. The maid stumbled for a moment in her heels and then said in the rich tenor all the party-goers recognized as Carl Howard's, "Yes, mistress?"
"It's time to sign the contract, Carl." Angela handed him the pen. He signed, and then Angela did the same. Those among the attendees who were not in on the joke gasped. This was Carl Howard?
"I have one more surprise for you, Carl," Angela announced, gesturing to a doorway that led to the bedrooms of the penthouse. In that doorway stood a tall female figure, clad in shining black leather, her red hair in a chin-length pageboy. She grinned, her dark red lips stretching over her white teeth.
"Kristine?" Carl was aghast--it was his wife! Much changed, but definitely his wife!
"I informed Kristine of your little 'hobby' as soon as I discovered it, Carl darling," Angela informed him. "I've taught her all the little things she'll need to make you happy in your new life together."
Kristine walked up to her feminized husband. "I'll be taking over control of the company as soon as we finalize the papers, dear. Switch off!"
And the maid minced off with her partner, as Angela picked up the signed contract and slid it into her purse.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Have to tell you, I'm not sure why Lucy so appeals to the cross-dresser crowd. Is it those legs, running "from altitude to ground"? Is it attitude? Is it the fantasy of the exotic?
Whatever, she has certainly become one of the new sexual icons of our culture.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Three days later, her preparations complete, Angela invited Carl Howard to her offices for a sales pitch.
He entered the office suite, and Angela surreptitiously inspected him via the closed-circuit TV system. He was tall and slender, with a decided feminine cast to his features. He carried himself with authority, though. "That'll change," Angela thought to herself.
"Welcome to Venus Force Advertising," said a voice from Carl's left, and he turned to see a vision in '50s femininity seated on a stool by the reception desk. "I'm Stephanie, Angela's personal assistant and secretary. She'll be out shortly."
Stephanie was dressed in an outfit that would have made June Cleaver proud--a blue-striped shirtwaist dress that fell to her knees over massive amounts of frilly petticoats, so that the skirt seemed to float over her thighs. It was tightly belted, emphasizing her girlish waist, and her attractive legs were perched on white pumps with four-inch heels. Her hair was pinned up into a simple twist in the back. Like all Stephanie's outfits, this dress imposed a specific personality upon her hypnotically controlled psyche: In this, she was the mother hen, fluttering around her "chicks".
"He already has a little girl fetish," Angela explained as she laid out the clothes for Stephanie that morning. "A mothering touch should get him just a little aroused and all set for my treatment."
Accordingly, Stephanie fluttered around her charge, bringing him coffee as he waited for Angela to arrive, adjusting his chair, brushing his cheek with her hand, cooing her appreciation of his bringing business to the firm. As Angela suspected, all this attention had the desired effect, as Carl surreptitiously hid a bulging crotch by moving his briefcase to his lap.
But the bulge didn't go unnoticed by the watching ad executive. She chose that moment to appear.
"Mr. Howard--Carl--how good to see you!" she purred, as she posed in the doorway of the reception area, clad...as usual...in a leather business suit. She motioned for him to join her in her office.
"We've set up our presentation in Powerpoint," she said as she pointed him to the chair by her computer screen. Leaning over his shoulder, letting the soft leather of her sleeve brush against his cheek, she touched the button that would begin the computerized session.
The earliest part of the session seemed a quite normal presentation of an ad campaign for the Howard company's product line. But buried within it was a subliminal program that gradually drew the unsuspecting CEO into a light hypnotic trance. Once that trance was firmly established, the program switched into full hypnotic mode, deepening the trance until Carl was unable to resist.
And then the screen displayed that photo of "little girl" Carl. "Who is that?" asked Angela.
"That's Coral," he answered.
"And who is Coral?" she asked again.
"I'm Coral," he replied.
"Yes, you are," Angela assured him. "You are Coral...deep inside you, Coral is who you really are. Carl is a sham, a facade. The real you is the feminine, beautiful Coral."
"Coral isn't real," Carl tried to protest. "Coral is just the name I use when I dress in the clothes I like."
"No," Angela insisted. "Coral is the real person; Carl is just the name she uses when she has to be a male." She repeated that several times, while the program on the screen deepened his trance even more. "Now--who are you?"
"I am Coral," he answered.
"Yes," Angela said, smiling. "And who is Carl?"
"Carl is a sham, a facade--the face I wear when I must be a male."
"Excellent." Angela paused. "Now, whenever I say switch on, Carl the electronics executive will be in charge of you; but if I say switch off, then you, Coral, will again take control. And Coral cannot resist my control--she obeys any request, suggestion or command I make. And Carl feels that submission and abides by it as well."
The mesmerized man went on to describe the cache of little girl style clothes he kept at home. But Angela stopped him again. "No--you like all women's clothes. But you especially like any clothes I prepare for you. Look at the screen."
Carl's eyes went back to the monitor, where the picture of Coral the little girl faded into a series of images prepared by Angela's graphics department, showing the feminized face of the executive in a variety of clothing: a classic evening gown and gloves, a jacket and skirt with boots, even a PVC catsuit and a kinky colored wig, along with a vast assortment of other outfits and styles.
"Now, when I count to three, you will awaken from this trance, but you will remember everything I have told you. One...two...three."
Carl's eyes fluttered open, as the images on the screen returned to the normal campaign presentation.
"You liked that series of ideas, didn't you?" Angela asked.
Coral obeys any request, suggestion or command Angela makes.
"Yes, it was wonderful," he replied, unaware of the underlying control that urged that response.
"You'll return next week to sign the contract for Venus Force to be your ad agency."
"Excellent," Angela said, grinning. "See you then, Coral--I mean, Carl."
Carl Howard stumbled at the sound of his feminine name. What exactly had happened here?
More to come
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Now, the odd thing is that, in all those years, I could never say I really missed dressing. But once I got back into it, I discovered how much it meant to me. I took every chance I could get to do at least a little something...panties and cami under male clothes, wearing female shoes with male clothes, whatever.
I've now had to go two full weeks without any dressing at all...and I'm craving to do it--even it's only to wear my black patent kitten heels and see their shiny pointed toes peeking out from under the cuffs of my pants and hear their heels click on the hardwood floors.
The first chance I know for sure I'll have to do it is still three weeks away, when wife and son will both be out of town. (I might get a chance if son starts work next week; that's not definite, yet.)
Can I wait that long?
Monday, May 19, 2008
But it seems more of you would prefer to be a "dragon lady" than a "teen dream."
The Client's a Sissy!
"Yes, yes--that's terrific, Olivia!" Angela, now a partner in the ad agency, smiled as she received the report from the private investigator she'd hired.
"Oh god! That's wonderful--keep it up!" She gasped breathily. "What--oh no, Olivia. I was talking to Stephanie. Yes, she's here and doing what she does best!" the attractive executive chuckled...then took in another deep breath of rapture. "What--uh--else have you found out?"
She paused to listen to more of Olivia's report. "No--really? Can you get me a picture? Wonderful!. I look forward to seeing it this afternoon!" She hung up.
She reached beneath her desk and pressed her secretary's head deeper into her naked crotch. "Don't you dare stop, you little tramp!" Angela gasped and smiled again, as the sexy insult only made Stephanie work even harder. "And keep your slutty little hands away from your own clitty-stick. You'll come when I say so and not before!" As the submissive secretary brought her mistress to orgasm after orgasm, Angela thought back to that moment, two years ago, when she'd first experienced this feeling, the culmination of her campaign to feminize her boss, Stephen, and subject him to the humiliation of numerous different girlish personas, from secretary to maid to hooker, all imposed upon him through the hypnotic skills taught Angela by Jennifer and her cadre of mesmerizing feminists.
She felt her body shudder from another pass by Stephanie's eager, talented tongue, then glanced at the clock on her desk. "Oops! If I'm going to make that lunch meeting with Olivia, I'd better rush." She looked down at her lovely submissive. "Stand up, Stephanie!"
The secretary arose, smoothing her tight skirt over her thighs, hopelessly trying to disguise the evidence of her last remaining maleness. "Just hold your horses, honey," Angela grinned. She walked to the door, feeling the sensuousness of her own tight black leather business suit as it rippled over her breasts, her thighs, her ass. She posed in the door of the office.
"Stephanie, look at me."
"Yes, Mistress Angela," the feminized male replied. She stared at the dominating executive with unashamed adoration and lust.
"Stephanie, come and get it!"
And with that command, Stephanie all but collapsed with the power of her own long-delayed, but massive orgasm.
Angela smiled again as she exited and said, "Get yourself cleaned up, finish the transcript of this morning's meeting, and then get home. Your instructions will be in your e-mail."
"Look, Angela, Howard Electronics is the biggest prospective client your ad agency has ever had," Olivia said, as she settled in at the secluded table in the Ritz Hotel's posh restaurant. "You asked me to find something on the CEO to give you leverage over the other agencies bidding for the account."
She paused before opening her briefcase and pulling out a thick folder. "Well, I can't think of anything more suited to your--um, 'talents'--than this." She pushed the folder across the table to Angela.
Angela flipped the folder open and began to page through the reports and documents Olivia and her trained investigators had gathered. "You weren't kidding on the phone, were you?" she said. "How did you find all this?"
"Hey, I'm as much a part of the kinky lesbian scene as you are, Angela, baby," Olivia replied, grinning. "Apparently, Carl Howard's predilections are well-known in some parts of the city's kink crowd." She stopped as she saw Angela's mouth drop open in surprise. "Oh, you found the photo!"
"This is Carl Howard?!" Angela stared at the eight-by-ten. It showed a tall "little girl" in a blue and white outfit with yellow trim and a full white petticoat. Her hair fell in dark waves to her shoulders and was held by yellow ribbons with a big matching bow at the back. Her eyes were a startling blue, her cheeks heavily rouged, her lips a deep pink color.
"Yep--that's him. Carl Howard loves to dress as a little sissy...but here's the interesting part: He's not a submissive," Olivia explained. "He loves the clothes and all, but he doesn't want to be forced into it. And he's not interested in any other kind of cross-dressing or other kinky stuff."
"Well, I think we can change that," Angela chuckled.
"You mean--you don't think this is enough to hold over him?" Olivia asked.
"Not at all. This is just my 'in'--I intend to completely control Carl Howard just as I do Stephanie and you do Brittany." She looked up to see a tall 'girl' in chauffeur's livery (with a too-short miniskirt) walk up to the table. "Speak of the devil, as it were."
"Excuse me, mistresses," the chauffeur began. At a nod from Olivia she continued, "Mistress Olivia, you have a call from one of your investigators." She handed a cell phone to Olivia.
"Thank you, Brittany." The former Brett merely nodded. Olivia took the phone, but stopped before answering the call. "Brittany, you look ridiculous standing there. Horny is as horny does." She hit the "hold" button and said, "Olivia here, what's the story?"
And as Olivia took her call, Brittany dropped to her knees below the table and began to finger her mistress's privates with one hand, while the other reached under her own short skirt and clutched her already burgeoning member. The hypnotic trigger always sent the feminized chauffeur into a frenzy of sexual excitement.
Angela smiled, remembering the night she had assisted Olivia in turning the former head of the private investigation agency into her sexy slave. That command had been one of the first Olivia had insisted upon.
She scooped up the folder, admiring the revealing photo one more time, and waved farewell. She had a lot of work to do to prepare for the permanent feminization and submission of Carl Howard.
More to come
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Why? In the interest of "verisimilitude," if you will. I want the profile pic to be as close to the real me as I can manage.
OK, you girls threw me another loop this week. Eight hours before the polls closed, Jennifer Connelly had a commanding lead and I had prepared a collage of images, ready to upload it as soon as I got home from work...
Lo and behold, Ashley roared to the forefront in the closing hours. Why? Is it the pixie haircut, leading to the image of a guy made over to a girl? The overall gamine quality to her beauty? I'd say that together they make up an icon of femininity that is easy for a male to imagine becoming.
Monday, May 12, 2008
So, here's a completely revised set of digitally feminized me. I think I'll start a second poll this week, asking for your choices of my best look. Judge on how attractive I look and on which one is the most effective and realistic.
A B C D E F G H
Added May 13: Oh, come on! Nobody else wants to vote, or express an opinion in a comment? Pretty please?
Friday, May 9, 2008
Before Lindsay, before Britney, there was Ann-Margret...the original teen bombshell. Starting with the innocence of Kim in Bye Bye Birdie, through the wantonness of Kitten with a Whip and on into the camp sexuality of her role in Tommy, she has maintained a place in the pantheon of sexual icons. We watched her and we wanted to be her.'
[Apologies for being late in getting this posted and in getting the new poll up and running. It's been a busy day!]
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
So, I decided to see what I could do to digitally deal with all this. I started by taking pics of my male self (with and without my wig). Then I worked on "removing" the beard as best as I could. (Results varied, I think. Comments welcome.)
Then I went to iVillage and its "Makeover-o-matic" to apply what I thought were the best looks for me (including glasses, since I wear them all the time in male mode.)
Here are some samples and comparisons. In each set, the first shot is an unaltered pic of me en femme from my 20s, the last time I dressed and made-up for "external" viewing. The second is the same shot "glammed up" with digital manipulation. The third and fourth are the most recent shots, from today, fixed up as described.
As always, comments are welcome.
So I'm giving that a try.
Here's a look at my fave jersey dress with the water-filled knockers:
And now, here are pretty much the same poses with the seed-filled bazooms:
The girls at the Sanctuary seem to think the new boobs are "perkier" and I think I can see the same thing in the photos. My one complaint is that they don't "jiggle" the way real boobs do. OTOH, I'm not going out in them, just wearing them for photographic effect, so maybe that's not such a big deal.
As I read the directions to the store I got from the internet I realize that the Eastland Mall is just ahead! As I approach it I can see the adult bookstore that Miss Jennifer said would be there, and across the street was a bar called “Danny Platinum Fox” which could only be one of those strip bars that men go to watch a woman take off their clothes. I wonder what the woman would think if I were sitting there wearing a black bra and panties under my “male” clothes?
I park the car by the mall and walk in. As most malls this one had a directory that told me which way to go to find Lane Bryant. I follow the route by I notice the pace of my walk is slower and I am less sure I want to do this. Is this the first (or next) step into becoming a real sissy or a real panty boy? I believe it is just that and I know my fear is mainly due to the unknown path I may now on.
I recall many of those sissys on-line telling me some of the things they have been made to do for a Domme. Can I also do those things, when I find it difficult even to think of them?
I walk right past the Lane Bryant store as I pondered my fate and was shocked to see right next to the Lane Bryant store is another Victoria’s Secret! Well I am sure that given the choice Lane Bryant seems a better choice so I walk in, once again feeling my knees weaken.
I slowly move toward the back of the store where it appears all the panties and bras are on display. I see a table with a number of bins each bin containing panties of various colors. Could I dare pick out some panties for me?
My hand shakes as I sort thought the panties in the bin that seems to be my size. The colors are really a blur to me as I try to recall what colors Miss Jennifer wanted me to purchase. I can’t remember!
I walk away from the panty display as a woman in her mid 30’s walks toward me and I fear she will slap my hand away from the panties. She walks past the panties to the check-out counter at the back of the store.
I almost leave, but decide to try one more time, but I remember in my hand is two copies of the note Miss Macy provided and I start to re-read it. I now know the colors I need. I return back to the display and start to pick out the pink ones first. Why I was drawn to the pink ones first was the fact I had never bought any clothing that was pink before. It’s such a odd color for a man to wear. Am I still a man?
As I ponder that question I notice a sign indicating Lane Bryant is having a panty sale five pairs for $25. I pick out five pair each that has a huge attraction to me as I can visualize them being worn by the woman of my dreams. But I am not buying them for a woman I am buying them for me. Could it be I want some one perhaps Miss Jennifer to admire me in these pink panties? Or is their part of me that wants a man to admire it? I shiver at that thought and move away toward the bras.
As I look at the bras a young and cute sales lady approaches me as ask if I need help with anything. I almost lost my breath, I had forgotten where I was and what I was doing and that other people (all women) were in the store.
“Thanks, do you have a size chart anywhere? I think I need to know more how to get the correct size” I stated meekly.
The Sales Lady showed me how each bra on its hanger had a size chart on the back and asked. “Do you know what size she wears?”
I wanted to run away but could not run away with five pairs of panties in my hand, could I? I changed the subject by saying, “ I think I need a bigger size than this one, it’s only a size 40 do you have any larger ones?
“Yes Sir, there are larger ones on each rack the labels are here, see. It really depends on which style bra she wears?
“I am not sure, but this is more difficult than I thought, maybe I just look around a bit, I can always return it if it is the wrong one, right?
“Yes with a receipt you can return it.”
She left me to shop and I found a black bra that was a size 48 D. I wondered what size cup Miss Jennifer would like me to be? Somehow the size 48D was calling me so I took the bra from the display and started to walk to the checkout area.
I was stopped in my tracks as there was a line there, how could I give my note to the sales lady when other women were in line? I floated by some racks of pants suits and tops as I watched the line filter down. I even got into line when there was only one elderly lady in line, but left when a mother and teenage girl got in line behind me.
This was silly was I going to do this or not? I can’t put the panties back can I? I started to move back toward the checkout line. I noticed that the sales lady behind the counter was some younger lady than the one that offered me help. She seemed to be more uptight and I really feared her.
I waited a few minutes until the friendly sales lady was behind the counter and dashed forward. I handed her my selections the panties and bra and she started to ring then up as I tightly clenched two copies of the note in my hand.
“Do you get many men shopping here?
“Yes we do, buy the way this pair of panties is not the same size as the other ones,do need them all the same size?”
“Yes, I do may I exchange them?”
“Sure, we would not want to get home with the wrong size would we? She laughed and I wonder if she knew the items were for me before I handed her the note.
I exchanged the panties with a matching pair that was the correct size and as the sales lady smiled at me I asked “Do you have a sense of humor and want to know the real reason I am here?”
She looked at me as said she did want to know, but I suspected she already knew. I handed her the note and watched her as she read the note.
Dear Pretty Sales Clerk,
Mistress has instructed i come shopping here today. Mistress Jennifer has instructed i present you with this note.
i am Mistress Jennifer's submissive in training. Mistress Jennifer has instructed i wear a bra and panties all the time. i've presented You with a selection that includes 2 pink, red and white panties and one black spandex bra. Mistress Jennifer has asked that i check with You to insure i've made the proper size selection.
Mistress Jennifer has requested that You sign the note and verify that You helped this sissy in the sizing and selection of these items.
Miss Jennifer would enjoy it very much if you were to share this note with one or all of your co-workers so that they might join in laughing at me during my shopping experience as well.
Last, Mistress Jennifer wants You to know You can contact Her by emailing XXXXXXXXXX and requests i present Her with the number of Your store and Your name so Miss Jennifer can contact You for confirmation of this sissy's purchases if She wishes.
This sissy slave does this to pleasure Mistress Jennifer
Her smile got bigger and bigger and I thought she was trying hard to suppress a strong desire to break out in a full laughter as she asked. “She wants me to e-mail her?”
“Yes, I think she would love to get an e-mail from you, but she also wants to get your name and number so she can confirm this shopping trip with you. You can keep that copy for your records and use. Can you write your name and store phone number on my copy?
I handed her my copy and with a clear writing she wrote “Mindy Lane Bryant 614-XXX-YYYY.
I thanked her and departed with my new panties and bra and drove back to my hotel. At one point of the drive the car behind me honked its horn as the light had turned green and I was too busy looking at my new panties and missed the light change.
I discovered three things:
1. I've lost all my skill at applying makeup. It came out terribly. With practice, I could probably improve, but then we get to #3 below.
2. My face has changed. It's a little heavier, my brow seems lower, and, of course, I have 30 years of wear and tear since I last tried to look feminine from the neck up.
3. I may not be able to wear most eye makeup anymore. Since I tried it on yesterday (and I only had it on for an hour or so), my eyes have been very irritated. I knew my eyes had gotten more sensitive over the years--I can't use anything in them except saline--but this suprised me.
So--looks like all my makeup will be "digital" for awhile.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The rain was coming down and I felt it was a mixed blessing. The rain may have caused many people to stay at home and not venture to the shopping mall or it may have caused more people to abort any outdoor activities and go to the mall. I am not a mall expect and elected to believe the crowd at the mall would be reduced due to the inclement weather. This in itself gave me strength to travel to the mall which alone is mystery to men. My mission – shop at the one place very few men shop for themselves, Victoria’s Secret!
While driving to the mall, I also noted one more reason to be thankful for the rain. I was able to wear a raincoat! The thoughts of having the extra layer of protection were a comfort not only to keep me dry but to also hide what I would be wearing on the return trip home. I should explain.
I have agreed to complete a task for a woman I have never met, at least not beyond the various chat rooms on the internet. I am attracted to this woman because she has indicated a desire to humiliate men. I am such a man that craves humiliation. A match made in heaven?
Miss Jennifer has given me this assignment, purchasing three pairs of panties and a bra from a store like Victoria’s Secret. That task alone would normally cast a huge amount of fear into my soul, but in this case I am also tasked with obtaining the sales ladies signature, along with her name and store phone number. The sales lady would be confirming that she understood the purchases were made by me for me. In other words I will be dressing in panties and bras as a male – sissy!
Having noticed many bra straps on women wherever I went, I was thankful for the rain and the need for a raincoat. My task also included wearing a pair of panties and the bra when I left the store.
My heart pounded faster as I parked the car and started the walk toward the mall. I had no idea how much it would cost to buy three pairs of panties and a bra and knew there was just no way I was going to pay for these items with a check or a credit card and have to reveal my own name to the sales lady. Victoria can have her secret and I can too!
I stood outside the store looking in for 10 or 15 minutes that seemed like hours. I was waiting for the right time to “shop” but the store was busier than I would have thought. Most of the customers were teen-age girls or young women. Then it dawned on me, I could be mistaken for some sort of pervert standing in front of Victoria’s watching young firm women wonder by manikins dressed in the near see though baby dolls and teddies.
Was I now a pervert? I started to walk away into more familiar ground, Barnes and Noble, a store for men. I pretended to be looking at the magazines when as fate would have it I was once again looking at a model on a cover of a men’s magazine dressed in a manner her bra strap could be seen and the very top of her thong panties could be seen just above the top of her low-riding jeans. Most men, and me in the past would have taken pleasure in seeing this woman and had a instant fantasy of being with her. Not today, as I looked at the cover I actually wondered what it would be like to be wearing what she was wearing. Not that I would ever look like she did, I was curious.
I wandered the mall wondering why I could not go into the den of femininity; Victoria’s Secret and complete my task. I had been in many situations in the past that some would have thought was brave, but a man purchasing female undergarments was beyond my reach?
A new realization hit me, was I admitting to myself I could not do what millions of teen-age girls did on a daily basis? Were some of these air-headed 20 year old blondes better than I was? Of course not, I could do this, I will do this.
With more motivation I turned my path and walked quickly back to Victoria’s Secret after all I am man capable of anything, right?
I walked right into the store feeling my knees weaken once inside the door. Perhaps that’s Victoria’s secret, she weakens men at the knees when they dare enter her inner chambers?
I started to browse the store and within seconds a sales lady approached me. “Can I help you find something for your wife or girlfriend? Relax we have men shopping here all the time.”
I noticed she wore a name tag, her name was Cheryl. I was amble to mumble out a few words as I handed Cheryl the typed note from Miss Jennifer that outlined my task. “Thank you Ma’am, I do need some help and I have a list here.”
I felt the room temperature rise as I watched Cheryl open the envelope and read the note. I noticed her start to smile as she read on and could feel myself blushing in spite of my desire to remain calm.
“Well, as much as I would like to help you Sissy, I am not sure I can. I can tell by looking at you I can say that you’re not what Victoria’s targets their product line for. But let me check with the manager. Sally can you come here I need some assistance with another panty boy!"
I was shocked hearing Cheryl call across the store to the manger, Sally in such a manner that anyone within the store could also you referring to me as a panty boy! I could feel the eyes of many if not all the current customers of the store on me. I could not bear to look at anyone and cast my eyes downward. I felt defeated, and worse of all it appeared that I would fail in my task.
Sally, the manager after reading the note started to lead me toward the front of the store and I was convinced that I at best was being thrown out at worst I would be arrested on some law against perverted panty boys.
“Now, listen carefully, the reason we can’t help you has nothing to do with you being a male, although many may argue that you are not much of a man. At least no man that I would want would attempt to do this. The reason we cannot help you is because you are not the right size. It seems our inventory is geared toward the normal sized women and looking at you I am guessing you would be a size 28 at least. Now if you still need to do as the note said complete your task, you will need to shop at a place that does have the right inventory for you. You need to find a place that caters to “BIG girls and BIG sissies”.
My mouth became very dry as I heard women throughout the store laughing and giggling as manager Sally spoke in a tone loud enough for them to hear. I did in effect get what I came here for – humiliation.
“Now Sissy, most girls even the teenage ones know that in order for BIG gals to buy panties and bras they need to go to a BIG gal store like Lane Bryant. Here is your note back you may need it when you get to a BIG SISSY store!"
The laughter in the store sounded like a firecracker as I took the note and started to run from the store. In my desire to leave the store before I was arrested my wrist slapped against the counter causing the note to fall to the floor. A higher level of laughter exploded as I bend over to pick the note up when Sally remarked. “Now that’s no way for a lady to bend over and pick something up, you need to bend you knees or let the whole word know what color panties your in! Thank god you are not in a skirt!"
I ran as fast as I could to my car and once my heart rate went down I decided that I would do two things. One I would find one of these stores that have my size and two, someday after I lose some weight I will return to Victoria’s knowing there secret is that only have smaller sizes!
At home that night I did a search of Lane Bryant but could not find any stores or phone numbers. I could ask a larger woman where she buys her undergarments but I think that would get me arrested.
I am scheduled to travel to Columbus Ohio this weekend for work, perhaps in Columbus there is a Lane Bryant store? I do still have my note!
More to come
Friday, May 2, 2008
Is it her transformation from good girl to spandex-clad hottie at the end of Grease? Is it the switch from sweet and gentle in her early career to bold and brassy in Physical?
Whatever it is, the many changes in Olivia Newton-John's life stand in for our own transformations from male to female and make a woman we'd love to be.
Wha' happen? Everybody from down-under voted at once?
I don't usually do this, but I got a polite request for a review and I was impressed, so here it is.
It's a video called Hanna's Hypnotic Video Lessons. Done as a "point-of-view" style video, it presents the very sexy Hanna speaking to the camera as though to the viewer, as she uses the application of makeup on herself and on the unseen viewer to hypnotize and feminize him.
I can't say I ever slipped into trance watching it, but I was definitely turned on, which is more the point for me. Here are a couple of samples from the video:
The full video is on sale here: Female Hypnotist Revolution Alliance, along with similar videos--which I have not viewed but look equally intriguing. There are still shots from them that can be viewed there.
And I've added a permanent link to the site on the list on the right.