Fender Bender Gender
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What A Way To End A Day free porn video
An extremely short drabblish story by Kate E
This was just a little break from writing 'Harry
Potter and the Gerexium', which the next installation
will actually now be a SWI.
(Story not really copyright Kate E 2003 -- go ahead
and steal it, because that is so flattering if you
see my work as worth stealing. :P)
What a Way to End a Day
I laid back in my recliner, as I had every day for
the last 10 years, or at least most of them. It was
getting dark outside, the summer evening coming on. I
turned on the TV, which was not huge, at around 30
inches, but it would do. I, of course did not make
enough money to get a big one. I flipped through the
50-something channels, to find that, of course,
nothing was on. I tried to fight it, but it just
wasn't going to happen. It always seems to win me
over.
So, as I had every day for the past 10 years, and as
often as I could for the past 15, I stalked towards
the closet, the guilty pang already heavy in my
chest. I was truly trying to stop, or so I tried my
best to tell myself. I would have had the operation
years and years ago if it weren't for my religion. So
I was Christian, and I loved God. I knew his son was
Jesus Christ, and I had accepted him in my heart
years before, and my faith was as thick as anyone's
that I knew. Yet, I still had doubts of whether I
would make it to Heaven.
Every time I wandered towards my secret stash of
women's clothing, Deuteronomy 22:5, a verse from the
bible entered my head.
The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth
unto a man, neither shall a man put on a
woman's garment: for all who do so are
abomination unto the Lord thy God.
I was an abomination, if so, why should I live? The
only reason I lived on was for God, so I wondered why
I should even go on, and many times I was drawn to
the gun in my bed-side cabinet, never pulling the
trigger. It seemed inevitable that one day the guilt
of it all, or even my clumsiness would end in my
death. I nearly hated myself for what I was doing,
especially when I knew how wrong it was.
Yet, even as these thoughts completed their usual
course, rounding through my head, I found my feet
walking. My hand moved itself upon the handle of my
room, which I had never had any "company" in. The
thought that I was nearly 30 and in fact had never
had any "company" hit me smack in the face. I was
sad, but I kept going, each step a journey in itself,
my feet each hitting the un-vacuumed carpet, leaving
a small "puff" of dust smoke behind as the foot was
lifted up. Slowly, I reached the door, out of breath.
I knew what was behind, I was practically selling my
soul to the Devil, as I had hundreds of times before.
"You've already did it, no need to stop now, I mean
you are going to Hell."
"Yes, but maybe, just maybe, if I repent now,
God would be good, as the bible says, maybe he
would forgive."
"If God were good, then why, why do you have this
body?" I was entering the schizophrenic state, my
crossdressing side against my Bible loving self. I
had seen many people on their sites talk about their
"she-selves" in 3rd person point of view, but I
didn't think they had developed a true schizophrenic
personality as I seemingly had.
"There's always a chance! Don't do it, you will
not be saved. Do you not understand the meaning
of Hell."
At about that point, I snapped out of talking to
myself, and realized I was still standing in front of
my closet door. Finally, I opened it. I took out the
huge box, with my make-up, C-cup breast forms, and
wig "collection." I also took out of the closet, my
corset, and a couple dresses, I figured I wouldn't go
"all out" today. In a last minute decision, I also
grabbed my hip shapers, with pads in the behinds,
which I had acquired a year or so ago. They had a
built in gaff, and when I put them on, they actually
looked smooth, not like the usual "padded panties."
The two dresses I had grabbed where each short, one
with long sleeves, with a black, lace-ish look, the
other just a sleeveless black dress, that had a sleek
look to it.
I had taken to acquiring clothes years before I moved
out of my parents' house, but when I did move, I
bought a full wardrobe online. I had been adding more
every year, and had a closet in the house just for
the clothes. It was quite a wonder that I never had
been discovered, even if it was true that I had never
gone out in a public place dressed. I was 6'4 and
weighed in at near 250 pounds, so I knew I would
never "pass." That fact never bothered me, as I
figured if I was still a man down-stairs I should at
least look like one everywhere, even if I were a man
in a dress.
Slowly, I traveled over to the third door in my room,
and entered my bathroom. There was a bathtub, a
shower (with the plastic-like protecting door), and a
walk-around closet, which I kept my "male clothes"
in. There was along, 10 foot long mirror on the wall
nearest to my room, which was over a 2-sink cabinet,
and of course a toilet.
My mind was racing, as I had taken to thinking in the
times while I got dressed. I thought of the Bible,
while I pulled off my jeans, and about what else they
had called "abominations." My favorite thought to
entertain was that they also called eating pig's meat
or rabbit an "abomination," which seemingly made the
word seem less violent. If anyone who ate pig's meat
were going to Hell, at least I would have a lot of
company. Then I had a sharp pain, which was probably
imaginary in my head.
"YOU cannot glorify sins YOU commit by saying that
other people's sins are worse, or that other people
sin also!" The thought hurt, as it was true.
None-the-less, I pulled up the satin panties, they
felt real good on my legs. I reached for the hip
shapers, still thinking rapidly. What if, just maybe,
God did not mind crossdressers as long as they were
faithful. I had indeed asked for forgiveness, what if
he just granted it, like he did for all other sins?
What if I would go to Heaven anyway?
"Not gunna' happen, buddy." The pessimistic voice
rebutted. "You are a repetitive sinner, you will go
to Hell."
The hip shapers on, I pulled on the corset. It was my
best find, or so I thought, as it was a front pull,
and it worked well. As I sucked in my breath, and
pulled, the voice spoke yet again.
"You really think that makes you look better? Why
don't you just admit you are fat, and lose some
weight, Porky? Maybe then you could look good... or
at least not look so fat."
Ignoring the voice, I tied the corset. Now, I pulled
on the breast forms, not the stick kind, but instead
a slightly revolutionized pair which simply strap on.
The mechanics of it all are hard to explain, but you
simply put them on, and they stay, standing up
perfectly. After that it was time for the dress. If I
truly wanted to go all out, I would have taken panty
hose, and a few other "contraptions" to put on.
Instead, I just slipped on the sleeveless dress, and
put on my wig, which I chose from the box.
The wig was "China-doll" style, a dirty blonde type
of color. It was straight, and served its purpose.
After that, I quickly slapped on some lipstick,
blush, and mascara. Nothing else was needed, I
wouldn't be looking at myself, I just wanted to feel
a little make-up on my face. Looking in the mirror, I
saw a man in a dress, with make-up and a wig on. It
turned me on, but my penis, restricted in the gaff-
type mechanism, could not do anything.
Satisfied, I walked back to the living room and
plopped in the recliner, to find there was a movie I
liked on. It is always better when you are who you
are, I guess. Then I had quite a shock.
"So this is who you want to be, Philip?" said a
voice.
Slowly, I came into realization that the voice that
had just put up that query was not in my head.
Shocked, I fell into a sleep like state, somehow,
maybe I wandered off and fell on the bed, maybe I did
not.
When I awoke, I found myself on my bed, the room the
same, yet different. As I looked at my body, I
remembered the last night, and I did not even let out
a scream. It was the best present any person could
get, and if I had screamed it would have been out of
joy, not shock, as I had dreamed of this every day
for so long.
The body was beautiful, long blonde hair, a great
body, and so much more, but none of that mattered: I
would have taken any female body and would have been
happy.
I muttered in my head for what was probably the last
time.
"Told ya' God was good."
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