Forced To Wear Her Panties: A Sissy's Descent

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Too bad. I had a couple of outfits now. I loved the one yellow floral dress, because it was such a soft material, and when I whirled around, it would swish against the pantyhose, and send shivers up and down my spine. I just loved it! It turned me on so much! But one day, even in full dress, it didn’t seem like enough. I wanted more! Nobody was home, so for the first time, I left my room dressed as a girl. I was *so* afraid that someone would look in the windows and see me! Once I’ve totaly feminized you so that you’d never be looked on as a male again, I might start dating other men again. I might even set you up with a date of your own and we could double!” I was feeling more and more humiliated because everything she was saying seemed to make me feel more excited. Excellent,” complimented Aunt Mary, “A little touch-up with the curling iron and our little Chrissy will be perfect”. My hands were quivering as I removed all the tags and such from the lace and satin bra, which I wrapped around me and fastened closed. Once I had done that I slipped the elastic straps up my arms and into place on my shoulders.

I pulled them up all the way up past my underwear. I didn't see any other clothes, until Em came in holding a dress. "I ironed it," she said, here put it on. p.m.: BF jerks off in bed, next to me. At first, I plan to just watch, but I start getting into it, rubbing his face and chest, talking dirty. I get very turned on watching this in general, and think of asking to join in, but when he finishes, I feel relieved — I really did not have it in me (pun intended). This reality is quite different from the fantasy around the topic of male feminization. So how to force feminise your husband? Auntie was apparently subconsciously jealous of me being the only boy in our families and this I guess was the driving force in what was about to happen. I was walking around my old primary school’s summer fete. It was on once a year and I always came to see how my school was doing and to see my old friends but this year none of my friends had shown up. I decided to stay for a bit just in case one of them came late and to look at all the stalls.a.m.: Before going to sleep, BF and I begin casually discussing men we know of who wear bras under their clothes. I can’t imagine telling my friends about our sex life — not because I’m embarrassed, but because I used to be such a sexual oversharer, and not talking about us feels like a nod of respect to the seriousness of our relationship. The soft caress of the silky fabrics on my powdered skin and the way the two women (especially Carolyn) pampered me was so wondrous and I could not help think of the weekend ahead in frillies.

I don’t know why, but I put my smooth nylon covered feet through that slip then pulled up up around my middle while Karen slipped something into the cups of my bra. “This will help fill out that bra of yours!” She exclaimed playfully, kneading the now protruding mounds with her fingers several times.

Yes I agree, Melissa, he is much better off imprisoned in petticoats than imprisoned in Penshurst. Your letter is interesting, because many, many psychological profiles have shown that the silly male who embezzles is not really a criminal type, but just a male with an over-inflated ego, a sure sign of immaturity and babyishness. This makes your punishment even more appropriate. I was not sure about going to town but knew I would not be able to get out of it this time. We all headed for the town in the car dressed in our pretty dresses and skirts. I was filled with excitement and fear at some one else seeing me. My cousins told me that I would have no problems passing for a girl and not to worry. Before the story begins, I would like to say something. I wrote this story over 2 years ago so when part two is released, it will be much better than this. I really did not want to be found out and I normally wear pants anyways, I agreed. I was not about to be recognized. Em's mom started to run the water of the bath and grabbed a new razor and shaving cream. She first shaved my face for me, which was weird, but she did a good job and I did not want facial hair. Next she moved down to my legs. I expected her to only to the bottom part, but boy was a wrong. She applied the cream to every inch of my lower body, and I do mean every inch. While I still considered myself a boy, the way I was dressed and acting made this all feel so natural. Sue told us how she would sit in the front seat of the bus because she knew that the boys behind could see up under the skirt of her tunic in the mirror. She enjoyed the idea of all the boys getting hard looking at her. She also liked to bend over a bit more than she had to, teasing the boys.

I returned the clothes to my mom and she said if I wanted to talk about it. I said I was sorry and just wanted to know how it felt to wear a dress. She agreed to not tell dad and after that moment I made sure to never get caught like that. My mom didn’t asked me about it again and I think I feel more comfortable like that. The one thing I have not yet solved is the problem of the hideous cotton t-shirt. I would be interested to know how your readers will react to my ideas, especially those in the nursing profession, both male and female. Let me make myself perfectly clear. I am boldly suggesting that we who are in positions of authority within the nursing profession take the necessary steps to design and enforce a new dress code for the males in our departments - something inoffensive, yet slightly girlish. Speak up, nurses, and let us hear your feelings! My approach in the early days did lead to some problems before, by chance, I found the effect of mild feminisation on him. It was through his forced feminisation that I have been able to take over the marriage. Alice has grown to enjoy her femininity and for me to lead proving my point that forcing male feminisation is a good thing for all concerned. I was so embarrassed that I was going to have to wear her clothes. I know she would laugh at me and make fun of me for it for years. She was probably going to take pictures and make a fool out of me... I was just hoping she wasn't going to give me anything too girly. Hey those are cute" she said, "I told Bri she could wear them"; I then knew that she was talking about my current underwear situation. "Let's see what PJs we can find you". The box was ripped open, and Em and her mom started pulling out clothes and sorting them. There was a lot of pink and almost everything was My Little Pony or Hello Kitty.p.m.: After we get off the phone, we send each other goofy text messages to wash away the taste of the fight. Well, I'm glad to hear it. I hate even to waste a dirty girl like you were. But you're not a dirty girl anymore; you're dirty trash now, just garbage. And garbage has to be thrown out."

I stammered for a moment, then managed to say. “I didn’t know.” Of course she asked me “Didn’t know what?”. The embarrassment that flood through me was unbelievable, but I forced myself to answer her.Ladies such as me, Cathy and Katrina mentioned above and others such as Madam Chris and Lolo have feminised our husbands through a sense of love and care.