Temple of Torture Vanessa s First Journey
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A Life Long Journey free porn video
A Life Long Journey
This is the story of my journey into the life of womanhood. It is the
result of my own memories and the stories told to me by Momma and other
relatives about my growing up. Some of this may not be accurate as my
memories of certain events might be colored by my feelings or my age at
the time. Still I have tried to be honest about them.
Even before I was born, something seemed to be working to get me to the
point I am today. While Momma was pregnant with me, her doctor did a
sonogram to see if I was developing normally. At that time, he told her
I was either a girl or a shy boy because he could not see any genitals.
At the baby shower given Momma by some of the ladies from the church,
there was only one thing that was for a boy. It seemed everything else
was for a baby girl. Everything had ruffles and lace, or was a pastel
color. All this should have given Momma and Daddy that something in my
future would make its way to the front and affect my life in the most
profound way.
Since Momma didn't have anything that was for a boy, I was put in a
diaper for a new-born girl and a pink blanket when she took me home from
the hospital. The nurses wanted to put a little blue cap on me but they
had run out and had to put a pink one on instead.
Once we got home and I was taken to what would become my room, Daddy had
painted the walls. The friends that had taken care of the house while he
was with Momma during my birth had put up little fluffy sheep and cute
butterflies. They honestly thought I was going to be a little girl.
Even my crib was more for a little girl than a boy. It had soft pastel
colors and little cute animals. The carousel that hung over me was more
for a girl. But since that was all they had been given at the baby
shower, Momma made use of it until she could afford to get something
else.
For my first outing in my stroller, Momma had only a little pink onesie
to put me in. But she thought that since no one could tell really tell if
I was a boy or girl (my blanket covered me), it would be ok to take me
for a walk around the neighborhood.
Finally the day came when Momma and Daddy wanted to take me to church for
my dedication. But once again, fate was working on me. As it turned out,
Momma had not gotten laundry done in time and all she had for me to wear
was a frilly pink dress and pink socks. Daddy would not allow her to take
me to church like that and so they had to wait until the next baby
dedication service. By the second time, they had gotten me some "boy"
things to wear. But still Momma didn't get rid of anything. She was
thinking that she would give them to the next lady to have a baby shower.
Somehow, that never happened.
By the time I was 18 months old, Momma decided she needed to return to
work. It seemed that money was getting tight for us. Daddy was working
but didn't make that much as a truck driver and there were three of us
now.
Asking people at church, Momma found a lady that took care of babies in
her home. Her fees were not that much and since she only had two or three
at a time, Momma thought it would be a good place for me while she was at
work.
Ms Karen seemed to be a nice lady to Momma when they met and so Momma
took me to her house on her way to work. It impressed Momma that Ms Karen
would not take any more than 3 babies at a time. At the time I started
going there, she already had 2. I was the third and last that she would
take for a while. As soon as Ginny stopped coming, there were just the
two of us left, myself and the other baby, a girl named Taylor.
As it turned out, I was the only boy there. Even Ms. Karen's own children
were girls. I am still not sure why she allowed me to stay there but she
did. As a boy, Momma found out later that for the most part, Ms. Karen
ignored me. Pretty much she just left me to myself without interacting
with me all that often.
One day I needed to have my diaper changed and Ms Karen's girls got the
diaper bags mixed up. Once again I was put in things that were really for
a little girl. I was wearing a blue dress and a baby girl's diaper most
of the day. Still, as a baby, I didn't know the difference. Ms Karen let
me stay that way until just before Momma got there to pick me up. Then I
was changed into my own things.
That was the start of the girls putting me in dresses and cute little
baby girl things. I later was told that Ms Karen preferred taking care of
girls. And her daughters enjoyed making me look like one too. They even
took a few pictures of me as a girl wearing a little dress, a little pink
headband on and laying there with a doll next to me. Unlike Taylor, I
didn't try to take it off.
I am not sure if Momma ever found out. Maybe she wondered about how few
diapers I used while there. Or maybe she noticed that I never really had
to change clothes very often.
As I was there more and more, the daughters would dress me more and more.
Finally it got to the point I was put in a dress or little girl outfit as
soon as Momma was out of the drive way and not changed back until minutes
before Momma returned.
I have been told that one day, one of the girls, Patti, was getting ready
for school when I crawled into her room. As the story was told to me, she
had on her panties and bra when I came in. She picked me up and held me,
telling me that I needed to stay in the living room while she finished
dressing.
As she stood there holding me, I leaned over and started trying to suckle
her. Instead of taking me right back to where I was supposed to be, she
lowered her bra and let me. As I suckled, she told me how good it made
her feel. She said that it made her want to be a mother all the more.
Finally she gently pulled me away, pulled her bra back up, and took me to
the living room. She told Ms. Karen that I had wondered into her room
while she was getting dressed for school and she brought me back.
I think she liked it so much that from time to time, she would take me to
her bedroom on the pretense of putting me in a dress. But first she would
try to let me nurse at her breasts, even though she was just 15 at the
time. Then she would put the dress of the day on me, put me on the floor
and finish getting dressed herself. It seemed to my little brain this
would happen two or three times a week. Even if she didn't try to nurse
me, I was fascinated watching her get dressed. She looked like a young
mother to me and she treated me like a baby sister.
The day finally came when I was not going to be going to Ms. Karen's for
a while. Daddy and Momma were taking me on a trip to meet other
relatives. I was 2 at the time. For the next two weeks, I was dressed and
treated like a boy. Funny how differently can feel just based on how he
(or she) is dressed and treated. Still there was something not quite
right in how I felt those two weeks. I couldn't tell you what it was
then. It was like a part of me was missing. The best way to describe it,
from a two year Old's point of view was that I was missing something
important to me. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn't wearing cute girly
things. I didn't know for sure at the time. It was just this nagging
feeling that something was wrong with me.
While at Grandma's for those two weeks, I found the dolls left there by a
couple of cousins. Momma said that there was one, a cloth doll with a
soft plastic face, which I really liked. In fact, the whole time I was
there and we stayed in the house; I would not play with anything but that
one doll. Momma told me that I would not even go to sleep unless that
doll was in the crib with me. The times we were going someplace and I was
made to leave the doll home, were times when I would cry for a while.
At one amusement park we went to, Momma said that as soon as we were in
the gift shop, I managed to unfasten the belt of my stroller. Before she
could catch up to me, I was looking at the little costume dresses and
grabbing the dolls there on display. Even when she tried to get me to
look at things boys typically played with, I was more attracted to the
things for girls.
Once we got back home, Momma took me back to Ms. Karen's. At that time, I
was the only baby there. Taylor's family was on vacation then. Still, as
soon as Momma was gone, Ms. Karen's two girls would put me back in a
dress, give me one of their dolls and then leave for school. It turns out
that as long as I looked like a girl, Ms. Karen paid attention to me.
But Momma started to be concerned that something was not quite right at
Ms. Karen's. Before I was taken back there after our vacation I had been
talking. In fact, Momma said she had been so surprised that I had even
spoken in a complete sentence for the first time. But after being back
home for a couple of weeks, she said I almost stopped talking at all.
Determined to find out what was going on, Momma started showing up at
different times to check on me. That was when she discovered that Ms.
Karen and her daughters were putting me in dresses and treating me like a
girl. Momma was so mad! She started looking for some other day care for
me. And she found it. Within two weeks of her discovery, Momma had me
going to a professional day care.
Although I was treated like a boy there (no dresses or girly diapers),
the ladies there often let the kids play with whatever sort of toys they
wanted to. They kept watching me going to the play kitchen or the
selection of dolls with some of the girls there. They didn't think
anything of it but they did notice that I treated the dolls the same way
the girls did. One time I even took my doll outside as did the three
other girls. We all went into the playhouse and sat there "feeding" our
babies with toy bottles.
As I got older, I was moved to a different room. This room had more
things to play with, including a selection of old clothes donated to the
day care. There were hats and shirts for the boys if they wanted to
pretend to be men. I would put on a dress (way too big for me) and a pair
of the heels. Or I would put on the little pretend skirt and little girl
sandals.
By this time, the ladies at the day care were starting to be concerned
about me. They even had a couple of conferences with Momma about it. Try
as they might, I was attracted to the girly things and didn't even look
at the boy things. Momma seemed to believe it was just a phase I was
going thru and she was not really concerned about it.
One day a lady came to the day care to visit. She had a gymnastics and
ballet school. It was her offer to come to the day care a couple times a
week and teach the girls some simple ballet. And on other days, she would
bring a bus she had converted into a mobile gymnastics place. I was so
excited by the idea of taking ballet and gymnastics. I could just see
myself wearing a leotard and tights like the other girls did. But that
was not to be. Momma did enroll me in the gymnastics but I had to wear
boy shorts, socks and a t-shirt. What I really wanted was to take ballet
so I could wear a cute pink leotard and white tights like the girls. I
wanted so much to be one of them as they learned to dance.
The best times I had at the day care were those times when I was able to
play with the little girls that were there with me. We would play with
dolls or play in the play kitchen. Sometimes I would wait until the lady
in charge of the room was busy elsewhere and then I would go to the
girls' "dress up" area of the room. Once there, I would slip on a pair of
shoes or a skirt that had been donated by some mother. The girls would
help hide me until it was time to do something else.
This lasted for about a year. Then my life took another turn. I was in my
backyard playing on the swing set my parents had provided me. I could see
around the side of the house and noticed a big truck at the house next
door.
I really was not interested in the goings on there until I saw the men
moving in parts of a canopy bed. The canopy had frills and was mainly
pink in color. Obviously it was for a girl. Then I saw her. She was my
age and really cute in her dress. In her arms was a doll like one I had
seen in a toy store and had asked Santa to bring me for Christmas.
From what I could see, she looked lonely so I went over to introduce
myself. I found out her name was Amy and she was my age. Her family was
moving in because her father's job brought him to our city. The problem
was that she had to leave her friends in her old city. I could just tell
she was unhappy and I wanted to help her anyway I could.
Since she was supposed to stay out of the way of the men and her parents
as they moved the furniture into her new house, I asked her to come in my
house and play. Of course I had to make sure it was alright with my
momma. Then we had to go and let her parents know where she was.
It kind of surprised me but made me feel good when she told her momma
that she introduced me as her new friend. I guess I made a good
impression because her mother said it was ok for her to come over to my
house while she and her husband finished getting everything moved in.
We went running into my house and straight to my room. I was so happy. I
had a new friend. I was embarrassed at how my room was decorated. It was
very boyish in fashion. There wasn't much for Amy to play with. So we
would sit on the floor and just talked. As we got to know each other, she
suddenly asked me if I would like to hold her doll. When I said I would
like that very much, she handed Jenny to me. Amy made sure I was very
careful in how I held Jenny. I had never been shown how to properly hold
a doll before so it was very nice of Amy to teach me. As I held Jenny, I
felt the desire to hug her. Amy said when I did, I looked like a mommy
hugging her baby.
That was the start of a wonderful friendship between Amy and me. Over the
next few weeks, I spent so much time at her house, my momma once said it
was like I lived there and came home only to visit. Silly mommy! I spent
so much time at Amy's only because I loved playing with her dolls, her
stuffed animals, and her. She quickly became my best friend in the whole
world.
I was spending so much time at her house that it was only natural for
Amy's mommy (Mrs. Jones) and mine to get together so they could share
"mommy" time while the two of us played together. Just like with Amy and
me, my mommy and Mrs. Jones became very good friends too. They became
such good friends so fast that one day she offered to look after me while
mine was at work. That way the cost of sending me to that day care would
be saved. Amy and I were hiding behind a door while our mommies talked
about it. Quietly we were both begging for it to work out. We both wanted
to be together since we were such good friends. When my mommy finally
said yes, that I could stay at Amy's during the day, the two of us got
caught listening because we squealed with delight and excitement.
It took two weeks to the day care to be told I would no longer be coming.
That was the length of time to the end of the month and Momma had already
paid for that time. Also I wanted time to tell the girls I knew there
that I was not going to be coming anymore.
Finally the day came when instead of getting me into the car for the trip
to the day care; Momma walked me to Amy's house and left me there in her
Mommy's care.
As soon as Mommy left, Amy and I ran to her room to start playing. We
must have spent the whole morning there playing with her dolls because
before we knew it, Mrs. Jones called up to us that it was lunch time.
I must admit, she was a good cook and she knew just what we wanted to
eat. There were days when she would even have freshly made cookies for us
to use when we had a "tea" party with Amy's dolls as guests.
One day, with Halloween just a couple of weeks away, Amy asked me what I
was going to be for trick or treating. I felt bad. My parents weren't
rich like Amy's. I had to tell her I didn't have a costume to wear. She
said she was going to be a fairy princess. I was so happy for her and at
the same time envious. Not only was I not going to be something like
that, but I didn't even have a costume to wear. Thankfully Amy was so
sweet.
Going to her closet, she took out a blue dress of hers. Just like she had
seen her mommy do to Amy while shopping for clothes, she held the dress
up to me. She was trying to see if it would fit me. She then handed me
the dress and told me to put it on.
Without thinking, I started to pull the dress over my head. Amy giggled
and said "no silly. You have to take off your shirt and pants first. And
that means also your shoes and socks."
I felt a little bit embarrassed to be seen by her, wearing only my
underwear but I did put on the dress. I was so surprised to see that it
fit me just like it did her. With it on, I started to walk around her
room. She clapped but said something wasn't right. Then she told me to
take off my underwear and put on the panties she was handing me.
They were white with pale blue trim around the waist and legs. They also
had one of the "care bears" on the back. As soon as I had pulled them up,
she commented that something still was not right. Then she said "I know
what is missing." She pulled out a pair of her white knee socks that had
cable stitching, handed them to me and told me to put them on.
Standing there in her dress, panties, and knee socks, I must have started
to cry. When she asked me what was wrong, I said "I can't go trick or
treating like this and wear my boy shoes."
Agreeing that would not be right, she got out her black maryjanes and had
me put them on. I was so lucky they also fit. Now I looked like a girl
and felt like one.
She had just put a headband on me when her mother called for the two of
us to come down and have an afternoon snack. I quickly but reluctantly
changed back into my boy clothes and we went down.
As we sat there eating, Amy told her mommy that I didn't have a costume
for Halloween. But she had an idea. Because Halloween was a chance for
people to dress up and be someone else, Amy wanted to know if it would be
alright for me to dress up as her. "You know, wear one of my dresses and
a pair of my shoes. It would only be for Halloween. And it would let the
two of us go trick or treating together. And I still have that play wig
from last year. He could wear that as well."
"I am not sure what his mother would say."
"Please Mommy. Pretty please talk to her about it."
I had to join in. "Oh yes Mrs. Jones. Please talk to my mommy about it."
"It is against my better judgment but ok. Besides, if we could find
something that fits him, it would save his family some money and time."
When the two of us squealed and hugged, you would have thought we had won
the biggest contest in the world. But our happiness (especially mine) was
nothing compared to what happened when my mommy finally, after a long
discussion with Mrs. Jones, said it would be ok. But just for Halloween
and she would make sure nothing happened to the dress.
Lucky for me and Momma, Daddy was going to be out of town the week of
Halloween. That way she would not have to tell him about what I wore to
go trick or treating.
When Momma saw me in Amy's dress, knee socks, maryjanes, and the wig
(even though it was just a little girl's play wig), she commented as to
how cute I was. She didn't know that Amy had let me wear that same pair
of panties I had tried on earlier.
I didn't know this at the time but the church Amy attended was having a
fall festival the day before Halloween. With me dressed up as a girl, Amy
took me to it. There wasn't a lot for us to do, just go from car to car
and get candy from the people there. I was surprised at how much candy I
had by the time Amy and I went back to her house.
The next day was officially Halloween and once again I wore Amy's dress.
The two of us took our bags and, with our mothers in tow, when from house
to house in our neighborhood, gathering even more candy. A lot of the
people either didn't know who I was or thought it was just a costume for
me. And a lot, getting into the spirit of the holiday, commented about
what a cute little girl I was.
Everyone thought I was just in a costume, everyone except Amy and me that
is. Amy could sense I was enjoying wearing that outfit. And for the first
time, I started to realize that I felt right in it. It was like I was
truly a girl but was being forced to look and act like a boy. Somehow, it
felt right for me to be in that dress and with those panties on. I
realized that deep inside of me, I was really a girl, not the boy I
appeared to be.
Lesley
- 14.03.2020
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