degradedsissy1:It started when you were a boy.You were just “curious” about what it would feel like
degradedsissy1:It started when you were a boy.You were just “curious” about what it would feel like to wear your mother’s or your sister’s stockings or pantyhose.It felt so good. You had no idea why.You guilt guilty and ashamed, but it was such a strange feeling that you had to experience again. Your curiosity was not satiated. You graduated to panties and bras and high heels and skirts and blouses and makeup - until your we’re dressing fully as a girl, from head to toe. As you went through adolescence you realised that the feelings and sensations and thoughts you experienced dressing in women’s clothes had and erotic element as you began masturbating into your pantyhose and panties.You had to reconcile yourself to the realisation that it was no longer a “curiosity”. Maybe it never was. You told yourself it was a phase that would go away - probably when you got married or moved in with a female partner. It didn’t. Then you told youerself it was just a “harmless diversion” exploring your “feminine side” which could be indulged every now and again and packed away again. Then one day you look at yourself in the mirror, dressed in an absurdly effeminate pink sissy dress with lots of pretty bows and frills and lace petticoats, in sheer stockings and pink stilettos and your face is painted with makeup.You haven’t dressed in men’s clothes in years. You barely know what it’s like not to be have a bra tightly fastened around your chest, a corset tightly embracing your waist, or to not experience to soft feminine friction of sheer stockings on your legs.It’s no longer about “exploring your feminine side”. You no longer have a masculine side. You ask yourself whether you ever did have a masculine side. You’re just an effeminate mess, limp-wristedly mincing about day by day in your stockings and high heels and prissy dresses. Your wife has left you. Your career is gone.You’re a laughing stock and an object of derision amongst your former friends and colleagues. Maybe you’re kept by a man as his live-in sissy. Maybe he uses you sexually. Maybe you enjoy it. Maybe you don’t. But who are you to resist? Deluged in humiliation day by day, your self esteem is shot. You are too weak and submissive to resist. Not that you have any choice. Is it all worth it? Of course not. But it feels so good. You can’t even bring yourself to wear men’s clothes again. Each day you endure the stares and whispers; the sniggers; the pointing; the derisive comments of people who see you.You’ve learned to cope. You have to. But no matter how much you think you’ve learned to live with it - or for how long - there will always be days where you take stock of your life - what might have been what could’ve been; why has it turned out like this?; where will it all lead? On days like this every sissy just needs to find a quiet corner somewhere and have a good girlie cry until it has no more tears. And no matter how many times you’ve cried yourself out, you know that the time will come again…and again…where you find yourself in one if your prissy dresses and pretty stockings, crouched on your high heels, where you just need to breakdown and cry again. -- source link