Obsession
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My Obsession - By Stats
Why did it have to happen to me? My crossdressing should never have
been a problem to anyone. For years I appeared only in the empty
streets and only when it was dark. I would not have gone outside
except that I just couldn?t get over the thrill of being a female,
feeling the summer breeze on my nyloned legs, being forced to walk in
short steps because of my high heels and tight skirt, feeling the
jiggling of my false breasts on my chest, having my long hair blow
across my face, seeing the street lights reflected on my long nails.
Three weeks ago I convinced myself I achieved a level of feminization
that would allow me to comfortably appear in public. My eyebrows had
been thinned to the point I could make them appear very feminine but
were not a distraction when I was John. I had lost enough weight that
my thin hairless arms and legs could be made to look completely
feminine. I had an unusually realistic set of breast forms that had
cost me a fortune. I, let alone anyone else, couldn?t detect where
the forms ended and my own flesh began. And after eight months of
grueling training I had finally got my waist down to 24 inches (with
the help of a steel boned corset, of course.) I felt I looked enough
as a female that I could walk along the main drag without anyone
suspecting anything to the contrary.
The only thing that was identifiable was my eye color. It was yellow.
I had never seen or met anyone with yellow irises. My folks had told
me that they didn?t recall anyone in the family had yellow eyes. I
needed to get color contacts but kept putting it off. I didn?t think
I would need this degree of disguise at this time.
My motivation had been to look once again at the wedding dress that
my fianc?e, Amber, desperately wanted. It had been on display in the
front window of Serigo?s, an upscale women?s clothing store. Amber
was just totally obsessed with the dress and, quite frankly, I was
just as obsessed with it. I can?t tell you the number of times she
dragged me to the window display. There we both stood, in our own
timeless universe, each daydreaming about wearing the dress. She had
begged me several times to go in with her and so she could try the
dress on. I just couldn?t bear to see the dress come out of the
window and be hid in a garment bag for 6 months.
Amber was not aware that I was in love with women?s clothing and the
female form. I wrestled with this for the last two years but did not
have the courage to approach her with this revelation about her
knight in shining armour. (Dear, the blinding light you see when
you look at me is not from my suit of armour but from the sequins in
my silver prom dress.) I kept kidding myself that I would stop
cross-dressing once we got married. Yeah, sure, even though we wear
the same size dresses and shoes. I was totally in love with Amber but
my dressing had become a total obsession now that I thought my time
was running out. I had to experience my female self at least daily.
Very rarely did I go anywhere without my female lingerie on. My
toenails had been painted candy apple red a good ten days ago. It was
the most professional job I have ever done and I never had the heart
to remove the varnish. I was wondering how I could get my ears
pierced.
Serigo?s was about a mile from my apartment. I would walk to it,
getting gradually used to being publicly in fem. That night I was
aglow with anticipation. I would get to look at the dress alone, and
allow my fantasies to complete without being distracted with Amber
beside me.
Several people had passed me, all strangers. No one had regarded me
as anything but what I presented, an attractive early twenties female
with a pleasing figure, well dressed and a beautiful smile. I had
practiced voice exercises for several hours in the afternoon and felt
I could respond to typical comments, Hi, yes it?s a gorgeous evening,
Devon street is two blocks in that direction, no I don?t want company
thank you. My confidence was growing in leaps and bounds as situation
after situation presented itself to me and I dealt with them all. I
was wearing my off white mini dress with shoulder straps that did
nothing to hide my cleavage. It had a low back and I had to wear a
special bra and slip with it. It was probably the shortest dress I
owned, ending in the middle of my thighs.
The dress took full advantage of my corseted waist that not only
accented my bust and gave me incredibly feminine hips. I was wearing
4-inch strap shoes that looked far too delicate to be of any
practical use. The thin straps held my toes together allowing them to
look like two arrangements of tiny red flowers. I could feel the
straps buckled around my ankles. I was in love with the shoes.
Finally, my wig, made of natural human hair, was a mass of soft
flowing curls down my back to my waist. It framed my face with like
an auburn halo. I could feel the hair on my neck and shoulders when I
walked and I would allow my hips to sway just so I could catch the
feeling of hair swishing over my exposed flesh. My earrings, long
dangling silver filigree, gave me added stimulation, as they would
brush ever so lightly across my shoulders. I was on a sensual high.
Finally, I was on the same block as Sergio?s. People were all around
me and aside from several males giving me a lustful look nothing
seemed to be amiss.
I was finally in front of the wedding dress. My mind slowly emptied
as the vision of the dress on my body at my wedding took over my
being. I can?t tell you whether I had been their a few seconds or
hours when a voice came from behind me. ?Isn?t that the most
gorgeous dress, my brother?s fianc?e has selected it.?
Shit, it was my sister.
I was so startled I said the first thing that came to my mind, albeit
in a perfect female contralto. ?Amber will look gorgeous in it.? My
brain entered a delete as the signal left for my mouth but my mouth
had already completed its instruction.
June grabs my wrist and swings in front of me. ?You know Amber? Let
me introduce myself, I am John?s sister June. Who are?? and I see the
hint of recognition take shape in her eyes as she looks directly into
mine.
?Good lord, John, it is you.? Her eyes take now take in every detail
from my feet to my hair. She now knows that it is her younger brother
standing in front of her in high heels, nylons, an alluring dress,
fully made up and beautiful hair and talking like a normal young
lady.
?John, what have you done to yourself?? She still has a hold on my
wrist. It is just like she used to do when I was a kid. It was her
grip of steel, used when she discovered I had done something bad
?June, please let me go. I don?t want to talk about it now. I will
tell you all about it tomorrow,? but she held sternly onto my left
wrist. I looked behind her in horror as my mother emerged from the
convenience store and started to walk toward June. She was 30
feet away and looking at us.
?June, let go of me now before mom recognizes me.?
The next ten seconds passed in slow motion. But June was always bull
headed and she held my wrist until my mother came up to us. ?June, is
this one of your students? You have eyes just like my son John?oh my
god!?
Now June let go and both hands came up to cover my face in a very
feminism mannerism. I felt a lump in my throat and tears welling up
in my eyes. Finally, in resignation I lowered my hands to my side and
looked at them on the verge of a good cry. I couldn?t look more
feminine if I had tried.
?John, you look knock down gorgeous,? my mother said with a great
deal of awe in her voice, ?we need to talk.?
I thought she meant go home and talk and so I make no objection as I
am escorted across the street toward my sister?s car. I feel there is
nothing to be gained in reverting to my clumsy male slouch and walk
as best as I can as a young lady. The feminine mannerisms are not
lost on my escort and I return their raised eyebrows with one of my
power smiles, designed to show off my beautiful white teeth and full
red lips.
I was so wrapped up in trying to appear as feminine as I could that
the fact that we had entered the Downtown Caf? did not registered
with me until we were fully inside.
?Thought we all could use a cup of coffee and some discussion before
we meet your father,? my mother says in reply to my silent question.
?Then my world comes to an end.? Barbara, the hostess, is my
fianc?e?s mother. Until she approached, I totally forgot she worked
here. I try to hide behind June and my mom. She looks at my mom and
sister, ?Jennifer, June nice seeing you, you want a late meal or
just a cup of coffee?? She then looks at me and her hostess smile
disappears from her face. In an instant she has taken in my entire
presentation from open toed shoes to my drop earrings and says, ?This
can?t be the same John that my daughter is head over heals in love
with and engaged to be married??
I try my smile again, ?It?s an Halloween costume,? I lamely say.
?Oh sure,? she replies, ?and the female mannerisms and refinements
came as an add on with the mid August sale.? ?Three coffees over
here,? she says in the general direction of the coffee station.
A somewhat plumpish waitress brings three cups of coffee. I am
eternally grateful, she pays me no special interest and leaves after
ascertaining that the three thin ladies in front of her can?t be
tempted with any of the fattening deserts that are lined us on the
shelves over the counter.
I look over toward Barbara and see she is on the phone in a rather
animated conversation. No doubt, her daughter Amber will be here
shortly to see the spectacle.
I glance back to sis and mom and see that they are both transfixed on
my fingernails. I have glue on fingernails. My fingers are somewhat
slender anyway, and even if I say so myself, they look way more
feminine than their hands.
Finally, my sister breaks the cone of silence that has descended on
our table. ?What do you call yourself, John?? Her voice is hesitant
and contains a tiny trace of anger.
I don?t want to tell them.
?Come on, we can?t call you John. It is not appropriate.? My mother
adds.
?Jennifer,? leaps out of my mouth as if on command.
?My name!? my mother replies, ?Whatever was your reason??
I look at her. ?I love the name, mom. And you are so feminine that I
have envied you for as long as I can remember.? Something had snapped
in me. Maybe it was fright. Maybe it was the realization that my
charade was over. I don?t know. But since coming into the caf? my
voice had taken on a feminism resonance. It was my pillar of
strength, I continued on as a confident female rather than freaking
out as a frightened man in drag.
?Well Jenny, I must say you are a most convincing female. How long
have you been dressing up and where is this going?? She takes my
hand, but in a different manner that she has done in the past. ?I
want you to know that whatever comes of this I am your mother and
love you.?
June is less understanding. ?I don?t know if I am ready to have a fem
fatale as a sister, I have just gotten used to breaking in a brother
to the human race. I have to agree with our mom on one issue, you are
absolutely stunning. But, why are you doing this??
I turn away and look with longing at the dress across the street.
After a while, I stare at my sister who is wearing a bulky sweater
and jeans and no makeup. I then turn to my mother who is in a frumpy
shirt and slacks but attractively made up.
Finally, I am able to talk. ?I think women are works of art compared
to men. Their clothes are so beautiful and sensual. Men?s clothes,
for the most part, are utilitarian. They cover the body or tell other
men how important they are. Women?s clothes compliment their bodies
and express their inner thoughts about themselves. Beautiful feet are
shown in delicate shoes. Graceful legs are encased in material that
glows. Dresses enhance the natural hourglass figures girls have and
present their breasts in a myriad of ways. There must be 1,000
different hairstyles and 1,000 different colors for a woman to use to
look different, attractive, and desirable.
Since you have seen me a half an hour ago you have told me I am knock
down gorgeous, absolutely stunning and a fem fatale. In eighteen
years you have not said as many complimentary things about John. It
is what is expected.
And the feel of satin and nylon on my body is unlike anything I have
worn as a male. It is sensual. Even my high heels are a turn on. I
feel so alive dressed like this.
My sister looks at my mom and says, ?I don?t know about you mom, but
I suddenly feel downright dumpy in these clothes. I have this
overwhelming desire to run home and get dressed up so I can hold my
own.?
?Why don?t you put on some lipstick, June,? as mom hands her purse to
her daughter.
My mom looks at me, ?I have never heard anyone so entirely wrapped up
in the feminine look as you, male or female. But how far is this
going? Do you want your own breasts? Do you want a Vagina? Are you
sexually attracted to men??
?I am not gay, mom. I wouldn?t mind having my own breasts. But I
definitely do not want a vagina. I just want to look female. Now that
I have been discovered I can finally say what I never realized
before. I want to be gorgeous, I want people to find me attractive.
Males don?t find other males attractive. Women find both males and
females attractive. I don?t like the male presentation; I love the
female presentation.
?You can pass off as a girl completely,? my mom says with a look of
great affection.
?Well, I do have a problem with a brother who looks more beautiful
than me.? My sister is looking at us with lipstick smeared over her
mouth like she was a little girl. Mom and I can?t help ourselves; we
both burst into laughter. She reapplies her lipstick with a fervor
I have not seen before and her smile tells me she is on board as
well.
In unison we each pick up our coffee and using the same mannerisms
take a sip and replace the cup on the table. The simultaneous action
is acknowledged with another round of laughter. This brings Barbara
over who, as a long time family friend, joins us with her coffee.
?Think I better join you, you are obviously finding a great deal of
mirth in this situation.?
I again look at the wedding dress hanging in the window across the
street. I face Barbara. ?I only hope that Amber isn?t totally turned
off. If she insists I will drop this female ploy. I want more than
anything to be Amber?s husband.? But, I felt life was closing in on
me and soon I would no longer be able to be Jenny. I am in obsessed
with my female look and want to look like a girl but I am also in
love with Amber and want to meet her desires and needs.? I start to
cry and June hands me some tissue.
Barbara responds. ?Well, you better think up something Jenny, because
Amber will be here a few minutes. I told her that the three of you
were having coffee and there has been an unexpected development.
Amber has never had another girl come on to her and I don?t know what
her reaction will be to you, Jenny. She certainly can?t regard this
as a joke because you are far too convincing. And before you say
anything about not being a girl, John, I see a lot of girls and you
are right up there in the top rank of the feminine club.?
?If we can only get over this, Barbara, I promise I will make your
daughter happy. Can you think of anything I can do or say??
?Too late Jenny,? my mom announces, ?Amber just entered the caf?.?
I nervously look up and find myself staring into the wide eyes of
Amber who is no more than four feet away. As our eyes meet she says,
?No!, No!, No!?, and dashes out of the caf?. I asked to be excused
and am a few steps behind her as fast as my tight dress and
decency will allow me to move.
?She crosses the street, nearly getting run over, and collapses at
the window with the wedding dress. As I reach her, she is shaking and
is sobbing.
?Oh, Amber, I can?t bear to see you so upset. Please forgive me.? I
raise her head up so that we are looking into each other?s eyes, ?You
mean a lot to me, Amber. I love you. I didn?t want you find out about
my feminine obsession. I didn?t want my sister and mother to know
either. But now that it has happened I need your help to decide what
I must do in the future. Please tell me, Amber, do we have a future??
?John, how can I possibly marry you now that I have seen you like
this. Every time I see you I will think of you as a woman. You are
more beautiful than I am. And I definitely want a man in my bed, not
a beauty queen.?
?Amber, I am no different than the person I was yesterday. This is
too important to the both of us to not try to work something out.?
?You even sound like a beauty queen,? she retorts. ?How would you
feel if you entered the caf? and found me a handsome man dressed in
masculine finery? Could you have sex with me after getting past my
hairy legs and armpits. Could you find some attractiveness in my
bulging muscles. How about a masculine voice to tell you I love you.
?
While she is talking she sees my eyes glaze over as I focus on the
dress in the window.
With an enormous surge of determination I direct my attention to her.
?Amber, I love you not your body. In my mind we are soul mates. If
you insist I will stop cross dressing, I will do it, I promise.? But
again my eyes are averted toward the wedding dress.
?John, you are fucking hopeless. If it?s the dress you want then the
dress you shall have.? With one sweep of her hands she grabs me and
plunges her engagement ring on my finger. With strength I never knew
she had, I am dragged into Sergio?s. Although we are both wearing
high heels she is in slacks and takes enormous steps. I am totally
preoccupied in keeping my balance as we get to the bridal section on
the second floor. The first salesperson we meet has no option but to
service Amber.
?Hello, my best friend here has been looking at the dress in the
window for what seems like weeks. Can we look at it more closely,
perhaps she can try it on??
?Certainly,? and before I can say anything the clerk has taken my
measurements and is in the window confirming the dress is a size 8.
There it is laid out before me while Amber, who is also mesmerized
with it, strokes the material and traces the fabric?s patterns with
her fingers.
I seize the moment, ?Amber let me see you in the dress.? I tell the
clerk I want to see my girlfriend in the dress and after she
determines she is also a size 8 we are escorted to the dressing room.
Amber puts up a struggle. Using every ploy I can think of I remove
her blouse and her slacks fall around her shoes. I lift each nylon
foot out of its shoe and amid her ranting have her arms in the
wedding dress sleeves. She is facing the mirror and is startled
enough that I have 20 or 30 buttons done up giving her a bust and
waist. The sales lady hands me a hoop and a massive crinoline. Amber
is caught up in the dress and mechanically steps into them without a
protest. Amber?s shoes are brown and only a two-inch heel. I have my
beautiful strap shoes on her feet before she realizes what I have
done. I wipe the tears in her eyes and take the opportunity to
freshen up her makeup, making especially sure that her mouth and eyes
are professionally done. I gently kiss her on her newly made up mouth
and tell her that dress makes her the most beautiful creature on the
planet, which is true.
?John, you have tricked me,? she responds as she sees our reflection
in the mirror. ?I just can?t give up this dress. A foot appears from
the hem. ?I can?t believe how turned on I am wearing your shoes and
how perfect they go with the dress. I don?t want to give up this
dress, and the more I think about it, I can?t give up you John. Did I
hear your mom call you Jenny??
To seal her fate I detach my silver filigree earrings and place them
on her ears. I then take off the engagement ring and place it on her
finger. She looks stunning. ?The dress, the shoes, the earrings and
the ring are very personal presents from Jenny, honey.?
I leave the tear in her eye.
As we glide out to the sales area we are greeted with loud clapping.
Barbara, my mom and June are drinking champagne while seated in three
lounge chairs put into strategic places to catch the show. I guess
the drama on the street was just too much for them. The money was on
me appearing in the dress I am told. Amber is the center of attention
and each passing moment I am more certain that we will find some
arrangement that will make sense to the both of us.
Barbara is writing out a check for the dress after receiving a nod
from Amber. June sidles up to me. ?I have heard of some sneaky ways
to get your girlfriend to commit to a wedding, but you have the most
unique.?
Amber asks everyone for their attention. Finally she says. ?I came up
here fully intending to put Jenny in this dress and send her on her
way. But, she has shown to me how much she is in love with me and
gave me several items that were very important to her. And in spite
of my violent protests she has made me the happiest person alive.
Jenny, I am going to give you three weeks to convince me that this
will work. If I am convinced, I will be yours for life, if not the
dress, shoes, earrings, and ring are yours.?
That was three weeks ago. How did I convince her that this would
work?
I rejected at least 20 opportunities to wear her wedding dress,
shoes, earrings and ring. There was just too much at stake to fail
this one. They were hers and hers alone.
I used my makeup and dress skills to make sure she was always the
most beautiful and sexiest one when we went out. At first she
resisted, but soon she was looking forward to the makeup sessions and
dress selection. She has even worn two of my outfits.
I slowly made her addicted to what became female/female sex. I now
can get her eyes glazed by rubbing her back while our breasts touch.
I have found three spots that will bring her to an orgasm with only
my slightest touch. Last night we were in the elevator going down to
the first floor from her apartment on the tenth. She had an orgasm by
the time the doors open at ground level. All the time she was
pleading to stop, but getting more and more turned on. On the other
hand I denied her my sex saying at least one of us had to save
herself for our marriage.
I shared the cooking, washing and cleaning responsibilities that has
given us more free time for her new found pleasures.
I made her diet and she lost 12 pounds. No one ever worked harder
than I have to making meals for Amber that accomplished this.
We shared every chick flick that came to the theaters and television.
We also got to go to two ballets. We debate every aspect of
femininity that we came across and I think we both learned a lot.
I never missed an opportunity to compliment her on something she was
wearing or that she had done. She has no doubt that she is the most
important person in my life.
I frequently told her she just had 'another moment of beauty'. She
tells me she turns all squishy inside when I say this. It is
Pavlovian.
I never missed an opportunity to pointing out her many attractive
attributes to her parents and mine.
I bought her special presents frequently. Not expensive ones but
thoughtful ones.
We openly faced the issue of my femininity to our friends and
relatives. When we both addressed their issues in the same way, their
objections dissolved.
I still made a handsome male. Every so often I wore a suit and acted
in my prior boorish John attitudes. It got so Amber would ask for
Jenny to come back shortly after John?s unexpected appearance.
In short, she couldn?t help but fall in love with Jenny, in spite of
herself. Why did it have to happen to me? I never ever intended for
my cross dressing to advance to the point where I am living full time
as a female now. The negative part is that I only get to be John very
seldom now. I think this will diminish as time goes on. There is a
lot of John I miss.
On the positive side I love Amber much more as Jenny and our love has
evolved into something spectacular. Both our families continue to
comment that Jenny is a much nicer person and more fun to be around
than John.
It is a year later. We were married two months after the three-week
trial was over. Amber is expecting our first baby next month. She has
me on some special drugs that are supposed to make me lactate. Part
of the deal when we discussed having kids was that I was that I was
to be in charge of feedings. So I found myself several months later
with my very own pair of 34C breasts. I obviously can no longer dress
as John. As far as I can tell, no one is terribly upset by this loss,
including Amber and I.
I forgot to mention that I worked in the company that Amber?s dad
owned.. He was skeptical at the time of my coming out and gave me a
paid leave of absence. I guess his thinking was that I would just
disappear from the scene. (John who, haven?t seen him in years.
Heard he became a waitress in a small caf? in the Texas panhandle. )
However, in short order it was obvious to him that his Amber was
happier than she had ever been in her life. I never stop to remind
him that it was he who gave me the money and time to seduce his
daughter to female love.
He told me last night that I am to be promoted to the head of sales
at the start of the year. Not bad for someone who has been in his
sales department for only a little over two years. But it is no
surprise. Everyone wants to deal with me. First it?s the novelty of
seeing an exceedingly beautiful female who is really the boss?s son
in law. But the real reason is that the customer?s soon realize that
I am out for their best interest and will use all my female wiles to
get them the best deal possible. My repeat business is unprecedented.
Of course, my father in law claims it is because I am, by far, the
sexiest employee on his staff.
Jeannie
- 27.09.2022
- 21
- 0
