Tips n Toes Getting to Know Diane In a Biblical Way
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Tips 'n Toes: An Ongoing Story free porn video
Tips 'n Toes: an ongoing story
by CCSondra
You know, its amazing when you step back and examine your life just how
often it is those little things that make us who we are. From
developing phobias to our love of certain comfort foods, to the kinds of
games we play it really is the small stuff that counts. Well, I think
for most of us who enjoy, need, crave, the gurlie part of life that is
true as well...at least I know that is the case for me. My name is
Gary, but most of my friends call me Sondra. I am 59 going on 60 (you
can sing that if you?d like), and I really do live to serve women. I
have done so for most of my life, both as a "sissy" husband/hubbette,
and as a professional nail tech who does their "tips 'n toes," and who
keeps his own long and lovely as a symbol of submission to the fairer
sex.
I was on vacation recently, and had an opportunity, when I wasn?t
serving my Mistress/Girlfriends needs, to do some daydreaming and
decided to tell my story. It will be in many smaller parts, but if you
will bear with me I think you?ll enjoy reading them almost as much as I
will enjoy telling them.
(Big Voice now) In the beginning...I was just a normal kid growing up in
the Sheepshead Bay area of Brooklyn, NY. Girls were to drool over, and
fantasize about, and life was filled with "snakes and snails and puppy
dog tails". What I didn?t know is that hiding deep inside of me was a
submissive sissy just waiting for someone to water the gurlie seed in
me. In my life it was my mom who set my feet on the path to pedicures
and heels. There was nothing sinister that went on, and she wasn?t a
man hater, but she was, at least in my eyes very beautiful, and she was
one of the most feminine women I know.
Mom belonged to a women?s group which met at least once a week to play
Mah Jong, and every one of the ladies who were a part of that group had
long, beautifully cared for nails. Mom was no exception, and I guess
that watching her get ready to "play" was where it all started for me.
I was about 13 or 14 when I really began to take note of mom?s nail care
routine. She would get all of her "tools" and bottles ready, set them
on the table, and begin to make her hands and feet beautiful..."sigh".
Before this I noticed what she was doing, but around this time I started
to watch as she shaped her nails, and then applied polish which made
them shine like jewels. Well, it wasn?t long before mom noticed me
watching, and she began making a show of holding out her hands and
stretching out her feet to admire her handiwork (no pun intended), and
to ask me if I liked how pretty the long nails and polish made her hands
and feet look. At first I sort of got red faced and stammered a
compliment, which made her giggle and tell me how cute I was. Well I
didn?t want to be cute. I was a guy. I wanted to be macho. But
something began to stir in me that said, "Cute is good!"
After a while mom took things to another level. You see, I made a point
of being around whenever she did her nails, and she made a point of
noticing my being there. Sometimes she would tease me about wanting to
paint my own nails (talk about hitting close to home) and then she would
just laugh at my blush. At other times mom would purposely drop
something, and since she was in the middle of her routine she would ask
me to pick it up emory board, or orange stick, I would bend down and
pick it up with almost a reverence, and while I was on my knees I got to
look at mom?s feet and perfectly painted toes up close. WOW! This was
getting serious.
Finally, at the age of 15 the defining moment happened. Mom had an
accident and her arm was in a cast. While she could do most of her
"chores" she was unable to do her nails, and she decided that she would
"ask" me to do them for her. After all I knew her routine with my eyes
closed, and all I really needed was a bit of practice with the polish.
Anyway, mom?s request was met by "MOM, that's girl stuff. No! I won't
do it!" And that was met by mom making an offer I couldn?t refuse.
She gave a little pout, and reached out to grab my hand. She "gently"
pulled me to her, and got me onto her lap. Let me tell you right up
that there was nothing overtly sexual going on here, but mom was a woman
way before she was a mom and she knew how to get guys to do what she
wanted. I was a guy and she wanted me to do her nails for her, and no
matter what she was going to get her way. She began to tell me how
important my helping her was, and didn?t I love her pretty hands and
feet, and after all this would only be while she couldn?t do them
herself. Somewhere in this mom began to gently scratch my back with her
nails, and I melted. Resistance was futile! I agreed to "help," and
mom set about "teaching" me the finer points of nail care.
I took to my new job like a fish to water, and the submissive side of my
sissy seed was growing. I loved doing mom's nails, but I was in heaven
when I got to hold her feet in my lap, and give them a massage, and
would gently stroke that small brush with the red polish onto each of
her perfect toes. I think mom knew the effect this was having on me,
and she milked it for all it was worth. Needless to say, when the cast
came off I almost begged her to let me keep doing her nails, and with a
broad, "knowing" smile she agreed to let me continue...on one condition.
She wanted me to let her give me a pedicure. You know the routine
already..."I'm a guy...blah, blah, blah," only to find myself allowing
her to make my feet pretty as well.
The final blow to Mr. Macho came when mom was hosting her ladies group
in our home. Phyllis, Rose, and Gail arrived right on time. They were
all decked out in their feminine finery, and one of them, I think it was
Gail, commented about how beautiful mom?s nails were, and asked if she
had gotten them done at the salon. Without missing a beat mom told them
that she had someone come to the house to do her nails for her. This
impressed the heck out of all of the women and they kept wanting to know
where she found this person, how much she charged, and could they have
her number because she obviously did a wonderful job. After some
teasing, mom called me into the room and told "the girls" that I did her
nails. I wanted to die (and to this day I love the rush of humiliation
as a part of my life) as they gushed over this tidbit of information.
Mom told them the whole story, including the part about my having my
toes painted. They insisted on seeing my toes, and spent what seemed
like hours ooing and ahing over how pretty they looked. Well, before
the evening was over they begged mom to let me do their nails as well.
Once in a while, as a treat, mom would invite one of her girlfriends
over during nail time and I would serve both of them by doing their
nails. The sissy in me was born. I was still very attracted to women,
but I knew that from that point on I would be at their feet serving them
as they saw fit.
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