A Transvestite Autobiography free porn video
A Transvestite Autobiography
I've had a number of questions and responses and thought someone should
write why they do this cross dressing stuff. So if I may, I'd like to
tell readers of my sad tale.
I come from a large Catholic family, five brothers and two sisters, and
I'm right in the middle. At an early age, one of my older brothers told
me that my parents didn't want me; they were trying for a girl. I don't
know if he told that to my younger brother, but he's so messed up with
drugs, and has been in jail for the last few years, I don't know if
he's felt the same way I do, but that one sentence was told to me when
I was in kindergarten and I still feel the hurt.
When I was in second grade, some of us boys messed up and for
punishment the teacher put us in the girl's line. That was bad enough
for a second grader but to make matters worse, when we got into the
classroom, she made the boys who acted up wear a ribbon on our heads.
The embarrassment was tremendous, and I hate to admit it, but I liked
it. That was the catalyst that started my problem.
At 11, my father was failing in his ability to support the family and
my mother was getting a little upset. He'd gotten diabetes while in
Vietnam so not only did my mother have to take care of us kids, but my
father as well. She had to go to work, and she became a nurse. I don't
know if you remember what nurses used to wear in the olden days but it
was a white dress with white tights. And I thought my mom was the most
beautiful woman in the whole world.
At 12, when a young boy's hormones start kicking in, and I started
getting somewhat interested in girls, what seemed to make me attracted
to them was ribbons and white tights. Now my mother did have a couple
of daughters and I noticed how much attention they got and my mother
appeared to be much closer to them. I mean she got to dress them in
pretty dresses and white tights, putting ribbons in their hair. I think
you get the idea. Since my brother told me that I wasn't wanted and I
noticed that my mother spent a lot of time with my sisters, I was
feeling pretty upset about failing her by not being a girl.
I've talked to a counselor about this and she said my mother failed me
by not paying attention to me. I'll agree with that observation. But
that embarrassing 2nd grade event kept coming back to me. I enjoyed the
embarrassment of having to wear a ribbon in my hair. At 12, a boy
figures something about masturbating, and my thought was if I could
only be born over, and was born a girl, Mother would put me in the
cutest little dresses and rhumba panties and tights. I'd get to wear
clothes that the girls in my classes where wearing. Those were my
thoughts when I figured out how nice it felt to rub myself down there.
I started paying a lot more attention to how girls were dressed and
dreamed that if only I had been born a girl, I'd be dressed the exact
same way. Notice that I wasn't paying attention to the girls, but to
their clothes. Some responders have asked me what is this thing I have
about girls' panties and bras and stuff? Well, I hope this answers that
question. My mother worked in a pediatrician's office and one day she
brought home a bunch of diapers. Oh, Great! She's figured me out and
knows I want to be a baby again and maybe she'll get my gender right
this time. I was so nervous about those diapers. I finally asked and
she explained that she had to pick some up for the doctor's office.
One time, I was taking a shower in my parent's bathroom and found a
pair of my mother's panties and put them on. OMG! I came in them in
like two seconds. I was now hooked. I hid them in that bathroom and
used them like every day when I had the chance to cum into. Eventually
my parents found the panties but didn't say anything. But I'm sure they
had their suspicions.
I got a job cleaning up around a restaurant when I was about 10 and for
the oddest reason, I'd find a lot of clothes around that place. I even
found a wedding dress once. Every weekend I'd clean up around the
restaurant and for the life of me, I can't figure how people would lose
clothes and the items would appear around the restaurant. I loved
finding girl's things.
While all the other boys my age were starting to date, which I tried as
well, they seemed to be much more comfortable around girls. Real girls
just scared me to death. It was so much easier for me to put on a pair
of my mom's panties and pretend I was a girl. I'm not into boys, though
when I'm dressed, I like to think it would be cool if a guy thought I
was attractive and might want to demonstrate his affections.
I tried on some of my sister's things, and once I was visiting some
cousins, I slept in one of their pajama sets. That was the closest I'd
ever come to getting caught. So I started dressing when there was no
chance of getting caught. This is important because closet
transvestites really don't want to get caught, but to be accepted so
they don't have to hide it in the closet.
I decided I'd run away from the transvestite crap by joining the
military. I figured there was no way in the world I'd be able to hide
anything from the military and it'd make a man out of me. Well, guess
what, readers. Any cross dressers out there know that it's impossible
to run away from cross dressing. I did well for a while. When I moved
to my first assignment, I started getting lonely and started looking
for a wife.
I found one, and told her before we were married that I wish I had born
a girl. She accepted that and married me anyway. And we started a
family. I didn't have any problems with dressing for years. I was
happily married with a couple of kids. But my wife wasn't happy.
Military life is tough on marriages and mine was no exception. So she
started screwing around on me, left me, got herself pregnant, and then
came back.
I accepted her and the baby as my own and we were stationed overseas
for a couple of years. I figured this would help the marriage. It
didn't. When we move back stateside, she started screwing around and
decided she wanted to divorce me. So here's what she did. She said that
if I wanted to be born a woman, than she'd help me. She bought me the
cutest panties and nighties. And let me wear them. Not when she was
around, she didn't want any part of this crap. But she gave me what I
wanted, and that was to dress secretly, even in the military. Wouldn't
those guys be surprised to find out one of their own was wearing pink
undies. One day I asked her what it was like to wear an 18 hour bra and
she went out and bought me one.
Yeah, she left me. Took my kids, whom I haven't seen in 20 years now.
Fortunately she didn't embarrass me publically by announcing my cross
dressing tendencies. That was nice of her. But she moved without
telling me where she was going. And I had to bring her to court over
and over again, always worried that she'd tell the judge publically
that she was protecting her children from a sexual deviant. I won every
court battle, but it was costing me a fortune. Then the military
decided to send me to Desert Storm. Cool! But they forgot to put me on
the payroll so for a few months I wasn't making child support payments.
Yes, I had to make child support payments even though I didn't get to
see my children, or communicate in any way.
When I returned from Saudi Arabia, the court system was waiting for me.
The Attorney General's Office (they represent women from other states
in divorce cases like mine) accused me of skipping the country so I
didn't have to pay child support. The judge looked at him like he was
crazy. I was dressed in my dress blues with a bunch of medals I'd
earned in Desert Storm. I could prove that I was actually overpaid on
my child support and I apologized for the U.S. Military who doesn't
represent themselves in cases like this. There was a mistake made and
they forgot to put me on the payroll.
The judge believed me and threw the Attorney General out of the court.
Every man in that room stood and cheered as I was like the first who
ever won a case like that. But I was tired of fighting this battle. I
decided to give up my kids for adoption, leave the military and if I
wanted to wear panties and bras under my clothes because I found them
comfortable, that's what I was going to do! With a passion.
I don't know why the number of panties makes a difference, but I fell
in love with the signature cotton collection from Victoria's Secret and
started collecting panties. I'm now up to 800 pairs of women's panties
and can't stand the thought that a new design might come out and other
women would be wearing a panty that I didn't have. I find that so
frustrating. I've been watching those Ahh Bra commercials and laugh
because I'm perfectly comfortable in my Victoria's Secret Signature
Cotton bras that coordinate well with my panties. Though I will
probably buy the Genie bras anyway.
I have bought other brands, just because it's fun to buy a bra or
panties from J.C. Penney or Sears. Even Wal-mart sells some cute
things. I've bought the white tights, and love that look with leotards.
I'm really into ballet clothes, as most of my stories mention something
about ballet. I really have a pink tutu, and enough leotards that would
make any girl envious. I've got a closet full of women's nighties and
dresses. I feel comfortable putting on panties, tights, a coordinating
bra, a full slip, blouse and dress, with makeup and a wig and living my
life that way.
I tried dating a couple of times, but am still afraid of women. I did
wear a bra and panties and nighty around one of my girlfriends but we
broke up the next day. I love being a woman. I don't mind the
discomfort of a bra after wearing it all day. I don't mind changing
heavy pantiliners. I spray my undies so I smell femininely fresh. I
sleep on little girl sheets with Disney characters or pink hearts. I
have Disney princess curtains. I have one panty drawer just filled with
nylon panties. I have a couple of bikinis and little pink shorts.
And nobody knows but me. Who looks that close to see if a guy has bra
straps? Nobody has ever told me I smelled feminine even though I use
Secret deodorant and wash with the most feminine smelling soaps I can
purchase. In the winter, I'm wearing tights or pantyhose. I haven't
worn a pair of boy's underwear since one time when I had to go to the
doctor years ago.
Right now I'm looking down at my nighty because one of the buttons
unfastened so I can see my pink bra. My panties have little flowers on
them. My blanket is pink, my sheets are pink, and I've got women's
magazines about the room. I'm not dangerous and I'm not hurting anyone.
This lifestyle has cost me my marriage and my children. It is lonely
because I don't have anyone to share it with, but I smile at myself
when I look in the mirror. I see a woman there. No, I'm not going to
get a sex change; I'd make an ugly woman. But I'm living the life of a
girl, with pink tutus and white tights, dresses in my closet and
princess dreams when I go to bed.
Yeah, I have to keep my windows closed and I do have to pretend when I
go out that I'm really a guy, but underneath it all, there is a pretty
panty, sprayed with feminine perfume, and Secret deodorant, and some
days, even a tampon and panty liner. I'm wearing a bra when I'm wearing
a suit. I can put on a pink bikini, or sleep in one of my slips if I
feel like it. I watch girly flicks; I play girly games on my Wii. I've
got a pink makeup bag filled with cosmetics. My shower curtain has
butterflies on it. I've got three pairs of ballet slippers, real ballet
slippers, totally comfortable.
The stories I write are all about James and Jamie - My Dr Jekyll and
Miss Hyde. They aren't the same James and Jamie in these stories
because they are just thoughts that go through my head. Most of my
stories are the sweet sentimental girly type because I'm not into
forced feminization. I just dream of what it would be like if my Mother
ever found out and let me live my dream. She's dead now and my father
has also passed, neither knowing that their son would have rather been
a daughter that they might have paid some attention to.
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