Adventures of a Femboy Sissy Ch. 08
Now, this was on day four and he would be home in three.
I'd like to tell you what came next, came easy, but it didn't. None of this did. Oh, it was easy enough to decide to look sexy, but the reality of making it happen is a fucking no-man's land. Literally. And I felt I had plenty of time? Whatta laugh. If any women are reading this, they must be scoffing at such a show of arrogance. I mean, you really have no idea what it takes for women to do what they do, and worse than that, I had no idea where to start. It was akin to graduating from finger painting to Bob Ross. Trust me, it's true. You just don't get up and go into a store to scoop up a few things and make it happen.
A least, once I had made up my mind to look into it, the arguing with myself in circles fell away. Gave me something to focus on that week, rather than trying to balance out whether I should do it or not. This was me. I'll do whatever I want with me. And I'll look into it. I'll see what I can do. In fact, it was easier to attempt it since I was alone. Ir was even easier to think it. No one else was in on the know. That was good. That was helpful, actually. Something like this screamed embarrassment for my fragile little male ego, so going it alone was perfect.
Anyway, it took the rest of the afternoon to do a whole bunch of searching and reading up on it, and by evening I was ready to call it all off again, certain that I would make a bungled mess of it.
Not to mention how I periodically felt entirely silly.
Compromise saved the day. I lowered the bar and narrowed it down to what I felt I could make happen, within reason, that wasn't asking too much of ME in return. And I had three days. In a moment of clarity, I added to my search certain how-to videos online, feeling they'd be mighty helpful. Let me toss this in here quick and point out, that while these videos make it look easy, you forget to think about how long it takes for it to appear so. Still, I was able to adjust my aim on makeup, which was the most involved and complicated, and that gave me more time to consider apparel. A simple sexy apparel that I felt I could manage short term, would be just the thing.
If you'll be patient with me, I'll tell you small things like how I was a nervous wreck planning all this out, because now it meant I had to go to the store and buy it! For the first time ever, other circumstances became needful of attention. Like not getting caught buying girl stuff! Keeping this secret above and beyond what we had been doing before was paramount. To really keep our thing private between me and him. If I was going to go about obtaining a certain look, it brought a whole new world of circumstances to the table that had me anxious before I even left home. Talking of going it alone didn't help so much when you wrestled with the reality of doing so.
That being said, imagine how it was for me to try and go to the store that night? Wanna know how my head was on a swivel the whole time I was there? It's amazing store security didn't question me, going around and looking so furtive. I was there for makeup and thigh highs, shampoos, soaps and shaving creams, and whatever else I might pick up, but it was like I practically went around with a hand held up to the side of my face. I felt I had the basics down at least, which were crucial to making anything happen, and I knew what I wanted to grab. I also had a rough idea of which way I would go through the store and so maybe limit my time spent there.
It ended up with me all but acting like I said, with even poking my head around corners to see if certain aisles were empty. Like I really WAS up to no good. I suppose they watched me on camera, now that I think about. What irony. I probably drew more attention to myself by doing the very thing of trying to avoid it. It just makes me shake my head now, but I also thought I had a fool proof back up plan. If anyone tumbled to what I was doing, then all this stuff in my basket was for my girlfriend! But what happens if I run into somebody I know? Who knows I don't have a girlfriend? Cue the mission impossible theme. And to think, that afternoon I had been eating french fries at a Burger King.
Wanna know how I looked down the makeup aisle and saw six million different shades of color in these little bottles staring back at me? Stuff that I had the barest inkling of how to use? That aisle is the brightest aisle in the store, with back lit lighting and 'beauty lights' running along the top of the shelves, along with these little mirrors that are set in intervals at each section. All for women to check their handiwork, I suppose.
When a GUY steps into that, he's as obvious as he would be walking into the wrong restroom, and you could almost expect an alarm to go off with spinning lights, klaxons, and even barriers slamming down into place.
Brushes, liners, applicators, straighteners and curlers...instead of palette knives, pliers, drill bits and power tools. I don't even know what this is supposed to do, much less how to use it! Bob Ross, remember? He used many different kinds of brushes. So do women. I thought I had this, but now this is freaking me out! There's so much! I just wanna get out of here. Grab something! Quick! Fuck it! Is this even make up, or some kind of primer? What does what? There's this...this, and that. This, too. Don't grab at it, you dork. Calm down. Read the bottle. Okay...all right. I read it. Like in the video. Now...get the fuck out of here before a real woman shows up!
I knew this much, at least, that I wouldn't just be 'going girl' as I was. The way I looked now would never do. If I intended to wear thigh highs and make up, I had this innate sense of knowing it needed addressing. Grooming, as it were. So, after the make up aisle, I turned to soaps, lotions, shaving creams and shampoos.
Jesus Christ! It's as bad as the makeup aisle! And my cold sweat continued. Alright, this is good. And this and this and this. Soap is soap. I'm not washing my car! Okay, okay, good enough. Now, I still have to find the thigh highs! You've been avoiding that. That's the big one. Shut up, already! Grab em' and let's go.
You thought the make up aisle was obvious? Try the woman's hosiery and evening apparel department. That's a nice way of saying 'Hey mister, what are you doing in the ladies underwear section?' I almost called it off. I almost sat that basket down on one of those glass display cases filled with watches, and walked out of the store. Of all things underwear, thigh highs are actually packaged up quite small. There would be no spotting them from here. You've got to go in there, soldier.
It's for my girlfriend. It's for my girlfriend. It's for my girlfriend.
With the thigh highs, believe it or not, I had a somewhat pleasant surprise waiting for me. In the back of my mind, I told myself everything hinged one whether or not I could find something sexy for my legs. If I couldn't get it here, that would be it. I WOULD set this basket down and just leave. It was all or nothing. I wasn't about to go marching off to find a Victoria's Secret boutique. Not after this. But you know, right there in the middle of the store, you can actually find, in these discrete, neat little boxes, quite the eye popping display of thigh high wear for legs. This was a...pendulum moment for me. I appreciated women in lingerie and sexy stockings, but it's a completely different feeling when you're there to select some for yourself.
I got to admit, truly, it was rather flattering. Racks and rows of feminine apparel, and all of it not so much for what it does, but what it's for. The potential behind that, it feels enticing, when you're there choosing some for that reason. I felt that, in this low, pleasant little kind of buzz type way. I was impressed by the thigh highs myself, and in telling myself I would be the one wearing them...well, that felt empowering. If I hadn't been so nervous, I might have been excited?
I guess, with a warm little touch of sentiment, that was one of my earliest memories of feeling 'girl'?
But speaking of which, how does someone with my past end up standing there in front of these two hundred little beige colored boxes, all containing stockings, and debating what to choose? Trying to identify different weaves, patterns and styles, and this with my history of being teased about feminine legs? I actually enjoy telling you, that there was something else at work here, my dropping those two little slender boxes into my basket and marveling at myself for doing so. I felt vindictive. Like I was getting even with something...or maybe even giving them the finger? I'll show you sexy, you little bastards.
I'll show everyone what I can do.
I know, I know, that's a bit too much bravura. Once I came out of that 'hosiery' section, after my little enraptured taste of the feminine world, I went back to having my head on a swivel. So much so, it's funny my head just didn't spin itself off and hit the floor as I got out of there.
And here's another thing. There were no self checkouts. This was 2010. We are all probably so used to them, we don't think of a time before them, and in this particular instance, place, and the store I was in, there were none. Now you can see how much harder this was. I dealt with all this by going as late in the evening as I could, and I was determined, if you'll forgive me, to find some 'ugly bitch face' to check me out, or, at the very least, some bored looking teenager who looked like she had left her brain on the moon. Maybe a guy clerk would have been better? Because I sure was ready with this 'for my girlfriend' excuse. Fortune of fortunes, I did find a check out clerk that was so bored and lackluster, I could have been dressed as a clown buying anchovies for all she cared.
Out in the parking lot, I literally breathed a sigh of relief. I had made it! Hallelujah! I know this much, my good people, I have been less nervous in much more harrowing situations.
Believe me.
######
So now, I was back home, and it was game on, going through my purchases and setting them out.
For starters, who knew there were so many steps involved with hair care? Extra healthy body and shine? Split ends? Vitamin washes and conditioners? Men do everything with one bottle. It's true. Several bottles of what I did buy, in haste, got tossed in the corner of my bedroom pretty quick. It helps when you want to use that stuff if you have long hair, dummy! Or does it? Girls have short hair, right? I have short hair. Never mind. Why did I even bother? Make-up and thigh highs, I'll focus on that.
There would come a time I had a record eleven bottles in the shower, it's true, but today was not that day. Like I said, make-up and thigh highs. Even during what I considered to be a mad scramble, I felt I didn't do all that bad in my choices. I went there armed with 'some' knowledge, and that was getting the proper shades and shadows to fit my fair to pale complexion. It simply would not do to paint myself up in browns and beiges, and speaking of hair, mine was jet black. I'd look like some strange ice cream sundae if I went that route.
No, what I had was a good start, and in setting out the little bottles and compacts, I was already smirking and shaking my head at myself. Whatta trip. Never had shopping go like that before! And if you're curious about foot wear, forget it. I only took a cursory look at shoes.
I mean it. I literally just took a glance.
Indianna Jones would have had a hard time getting out of there with something. FYI women have as many shoes as they do make-up brushes, with each set reserved for various purposes and or functions. What's more, want to know about the chaotic nightmare of how women size things compared to men? Shoes included? Sure, it's because they have their own size charts from usually being smaller in build than men, but also because they skew those charts in favor of themselves so they can appear smaller yet in their own damn heads! That's it in a nutshell. That's why super models wear size zero. There's no dress sizes left for them to go any smaller, because more average women insist their sizes are as small as possible. 'I don't want to say I'm a size eight. I'm a four, though I have to buy six.' and the supermodel goes 'Well, guess I'm zero.'
I wouldn't have been able to bring myself to buy heels anyway. Or clothes. And the only way I could have gotten the size right on the shoes, would have been to hold them up to the bottom of my sneaker in the store. Not this guy! I'd probably just break my ankles, anyway. Plus, there was the small matter of just how far I was willing to go in this little experiment.
Now that I was home, though, down the list I went. Scratch that, none of that, forget this, dump that, not a chance, cross that out, maybe later, no way, not now, and moving on. Amazing how I considered so many things earlier on, and only now, since coming home, was I getting an idea of how it just wasn't that easy.
Then it was on to how I rammed my foot straight down through the delicate nylon of a pair of thigh highs that were a size too small for me. At the last second, remembering my own height, I took a stab at the sizes and bought two different kinds. One of two pairs, were these simple black sheer thigh highs. With a lace hem. After reading the boxes more carefully, I decided on a quick test run, and I'm glad I did.
It took less than five seconds for me to destroy them.
Well, I mean, my foot didn't go straight on through, but it was more like a combination of pushing and pulling where they just...came apart. What the Hell, man? Ripped right open before I even knew what was happening. They were like tissue paper. Or was I too rough? Was my whole night going to be spent in a misery of doubt, embarrassment and overall foolishness, as I tried to figure out how to do this? Where was all his talk now? My roommate. The fucker. And everyone else who had ever teased me about this, the Hell with you too!
I was fooled into thinking I was a natural at this! Not for the first time I thought,what the fuck am I actually doing? What the FUCK...am I actually doing? (I almost gave it up a few times)
So, I already ruined one pair. I was NOT going back to the store, and found myself paying for two day shipping online at one in the morning to have a bunch of things delivered to me ASAP...which gave me no time to even practice trying the stuff on when it got here.
The week was running out, and he'd be home soon. Shit! Maybe I should wait? No, I don't want to wait. Why? Did I worry damage might be done if I didn't somehow salvage the situation? Yes. And what a situation. I was aiming to act feminine. For him. I was aiming to look feminine. For a guy. To indulge a thing from my past that had caused me no end of upset. Man, if anyone I knew could see me now! Jesus! What if they did? Imagine that!? No. Imagine him. If you look good enough, you'll show him, OK? If you look terrible, you won't. Yeah, alright. I want to see what I can do. I want to try it, at least. So? Keep trying.
What I was really worried about is that he would stop...enjoying me.
There, I said it. I think maybe that's what kept me going. Like I said, something had woken up. Something was calling to me. For a time, his words followed me around. You know, like that scene from the original Superman? With his old man's face popping up in the clouds, as Superman tries to fly away?
"It is forbidden to interfere. It is forbidden to interfere."
But for me it was like "It shows through. It shows through". Or something akin to that. And on top of him wanting to see me a certain way, this got me to thinking about it myself. That's what it boils down to, you know. No matter what your intentions are, or how bold you are, or even what shadows there are in your past, you don't do this thing unless you want to. I wanted to know. Part of me wanted to run with it. Wanted to feel what it was like, teasing and all.
Maybe this was my first step to getting over all that? Getting over being teased? Because I thought, maybe I can do this? Maybe I can be good at it? With a curiosity to see just how far it would go. Feminizing. Yeah, okay. Maybe I could see it through? This was helped in no small part by going it alone, again. There's great comfort in that in the beginning, how there in our bedrooms, we are at our most honest with ourselves.
I guess I was just a bit more blindsided by these revelations than most...and by the way it all came about.
What am I saying? How would I know what it's like for anyone else? This was all me. This was just how it went for me and if you're confused, imagine how I felt. That's why I say it wasn't denial. It was discovery. Shit, denial would have been easier, because again, the answers would have been a lot more simple.
In speaking how this all felt, the real break through was shaving my legs.
Shaving everything, actually. As a swimmer, I knew about this. I had an advantage about shaving the body and how to go about it, and even so, I was careful, because I didn't want to cut myself. t had been some time. The only difference, now, as I took my shaving supplies into the shower, was that I was doing this for totally different reasons.
Wait, Dana, you shaved your legs before and never thought about them looking like they do? Teasing, my friends, is a very powerful influence, no matter how we deny it. The best I did, in those years, was to be defiant. I cut it out of my present, and I cut it out of my past. It's amazing I ended up on the swim team at all, but I wasn't going to let them ruin everything, you know?
Anyway, back to said present.
You know, it never occurred to me at the time, nor did I even know, that some sissies don't bother with grooming. They just throw on some girl stuff and call it good. Personally, if I was expecting someone to look sexy, that would just make me dry heave. You're NOT going to shave your legs!? And you're going to wear thigh highs? That's like putting lingerie on a pine tree. No offense, but that's not me. That's not MY sissy. That's a cross-dresser. Being sexy is what it's all about, and so, that's what I figured I would do. At the time I didn't know the different levels of being a feminine male, or sissy this or sissy that. I just took it all literally.
So, the water flowed, and I evaluated my body for the coming event. When I envisioned how this would all look to him, and how he said I had nice legs, that thing I said that had woken up inside me really did blossom a little. This wasn't the first time I had shaved, but in drawing the razor up my legs, and admitting they were feminine, very feminine, for the first time ever, had me slipping into my own little private world of eroticism. At how I looked. At what I was doing. Figuratively, I guess I was experiencing the rush of getting sexy FOR someone, and the ladies out there can understand that one, too. It was in me now. And it was awake.
Let's just say it was easier to shave between my legs when my cock was so stiff. I was turned on not by the act, but by going through with it in preparation for someone else.
For when he saw me.
For now, though, all this was to see how far, and how well, I could well and truly make this work. I kept at it, because I really didn't expect to go through with it. Not all the way. That's why I was shaving now. If it came to it, I had every intention of shaving again on the day he would be coming home, but this was just to get started. To test myself. I admit, despite everything I have said, that part of me wouldn't care if it all ended badly and like, he was postponed, or something. Found some reason not to come home at all. Then I could call it all off without feeling bad I didn't at least try, yet relieved now I didn't have to commit to going through with it. These are the struggles, when you land somewhere between heterosexual and homosexual. What a week I was having!r"
http://sarahjanetv.blogspot.com/2009/07/hes-back-its-back-theyre-all-bloody.html
http://sarahsilverman.blogspot.com/2007/04/saturday-night-live-documentary.html
http://saratvnet.blogspot.com/2009_05_03_archive.html
http://sarjau.blogspot.com/2012/12/new-iranian-sunni-jihadi-group-claims.html
http://sarjau.blogspot.com/2013/01/former-interior-minister-irans.html
http://sarjau.blogspot.com/2013/01/hardline-news-outlet-says-qatari.html
http://sarjau.blogspot.com/2013/01/iran-has-been-mother-of-devils-in.html
http://sarjau.blogspot.com/2013/06/irans-sunni-jihad-groups-thinking.html
http://satanicpandemonium.blogspot.com/2014/01/lemora-childs-tale-of-supernatural.html
http://satelitesabotado.blogspot.com/2007/07/nova-teoria-da-ltima-ceia-derruba-sites.html
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