Finding My Voice - Chapter 5 - I Finally Find My Own Voice free porn video

FINDING MY VOICE Chapter 5 - I finally find my own voice. The morning following my first public outing en-femme, I awoke early. I had been dreaming all night about Duncan, the man who, only yesterday evening, had become the first man to kiss me on the lips - or anywhere else for that matter! To say I was confused would be an understatement. I had never considered myself gay, but I definitely reacted as a woman when Duncan kissed me. I needed to talk this through with my best girlfriend, Imogene, who runs Illusions, the dressing service I frequent and who, together with her husband Paul, has become my closest friend. I waited until 10 o'clock before I rang Imogene. My fingers had been itching to pick up the telephone ever since I woke up, but I knew our conversation was likely to be a lengthy one and I wanted to make sure we would have time to talk and not be disturbed. As it was a Monday morning I was at work, but fortunately today I had the office to myself. I rang Imogene and she answered the phone in a state of high excitement. "Well Sonia, how did you enjoy your public debut as a woman?" she enquired. "You coped much better than I thought you would and I hardly needed to prop you up all evening." "I know" I responded, "now that I have done it, I can't understand why I was so nervous and resistant before. I had a great time and am certainly up for more outings in the future." "And what about Duncan" Imogene continued? "I could see the way the two of you were getting on like a house on fire." Even over the phone, I could feel my face reddening and a blush extending down my neck. "He is very sweet" I eventually managed to blurt out. "But that is what I need to talk to you about. When he dropped me off at home I kissed him and enjoyed it. I'm so confused; am I gay, or is this just a natural reaction to being treated as a woman all evening?" "Only you can truly answer that question" replied Imogene solemnly, "but I'm happy to talk it through with you, if you think that would help." I thanked her profusely and we arranged that I would drop round to her house after work. We continued chatting for at least another half hour but studiously avoided referring to Duncan. (Talk about avoiding the "elephant in the room"!!!) We constrained our chat to girly things that I had noticed or experienced whilst being out in public dressed. I told Imogene that I had got a buzz out of being given the once over by passing men - not as a cross-dressed bloke but as an attractive woman. I had also experience a thrill in using the ladies toilet facilities for the first time. "They are so much cleaner and smarter than the men's loos" I complained. Imogene laughed; "That is true, but you wait until you have to queue for ages to spend a penny when your bladder is bursting! There are never enough loos for us girls." Eventually I rang off. Even though it was a quiet day, I did have some work I needed to complete. Finally it was time to go home and I caught a bus to Imogene's house. Paul wasn't home from work yet, for which I was grateful. I liked Paul very much, but, on this occasion, I wanted time just to talk to Imogene alone. She was very gentle with me. Never forcing the conversation, she gradually got me to talk about my feelings and reactions when Duncan first took my hand; when he held my arm to steady me as we walked down the road; and, most importantly, when he kissed me goodnight. I had to confess that all these experiences had given me pleasure. "It was lovely to be pampered and treated like a lady" I confessed, shyly. "And when he kissed me it seemed perfectly natural to kiss him back. Does that make me gay?" "I'm not sure" Imogene responded thoughtfully. "It may do, but not necessarily so. Are you thinking of seeing him again?" I lowered my eyes and said that I was sorely tempted. "Well go out with him a few times" Imogene advised. "You will soon learn whether your initial feelings deepen into a yearning for a more passionate involvement." This was sound, if somewhat scary, advice and I said I would give it serious consideration. Shortly thereafter Paul arrived home, so I made my farewells and departed, taking the things I had left behind from the previous day with me. I thought about ringing Duncan that evening but, in the end, decided to sleep on it for one more night. The following day, Tuesday, I was still of a mind that I wanted to see more of Duncan, so rang the number he had given me and told him so. He was delighted. "Oh I'm so pleased you have come to that decision" he said. "I really warmed to you on Sunday and it would be a shame if a promising friendship came to a premature end. If you are sure you want to meet up again, what are you doing Friday night?" I confessed my social diary was, sadly, completely free that evening and that I was entirely at his disposal. "What would you like to do?" was his next question. "Do you want to meet up in girl or boy mode?" I responded that I would be happy to go out with him as "Sophie" and that he could look upon it as a proper date and that it was up to him, as the man in the relationship, to decide where he wanted to take his lady to impress her! "I know a little bistro that is frequented by the transgendered community" he said thoughtfully. "It is a very nice place and not at all camp. If you would be happy be seen there with me, we could have a nice meal together and chat without worrying about anyone thinking us odd." I said I would be happy to fall in line with his suggestion and we arranged that he would pick me up from home at 8:00 pm on Friday evening. Friday seemed to take ages to arrive, but eventually the clock dragged its weary way to 5:30 pm and I hurriedly locked up and rushed home. I had a lot to achieve before 8 o'clock! I gave myself a very close shave and hopped into the shower. I would have like to have been able to luxuriate in a delicious bubble bath, but time would not allow. Once dry, moisturised, and powdered, I proceeded to dress in the clothes I had laid out the previous evening. Pretty undies - (not for Duncan's eyes, but to help boost my own sense of femininity) - with sheer, nude stockings and a lovely, simple dress suitable for a smart evening out, but not too dressy or "over the top" was the order of the day. My dress was an above the knee, plain black, sleeveless sheath, worn under a grey, leopard-skin print jacket that fastened at the waist with a silver clasp. With this I wore black, peep-toe pumps and silver jewellery. I chose my long blonde wig, but, on this occasion, wore it down in soft waves that fell over my shoulders. I decided upon a pink palette for my makeup and carefully painted my fingernails to match. When I was ready I looked in the mirror and was nut unpleased with what I saw; I certainly "scrubbed up well"! Duncan arrived promptly at 8:00 pm and made all the right noises about my appearance. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek by way of a "thank you" and grabbed my bag and coat before he had a chance to respond. It was about a twenty minute drive to the bistro and the time passed quickly as we resumed our conversation. I was pleased to note that there was no sense of tension between us; we were two friends out for a pleasant evening together. The evening did indeed go well. The food was every bit as good as Duncan had promised and the other clientele, including several cross-dressers - (both men and women) - behaved decorously; it was just like any other quality restaurant. Duncan and I got along famously. Although opera was his main passion, he also enjoyed concerts and plays, so we had a lot in common. All too soon we were finishing our coffee and Duncan was calling for the bill. He drove me home and I found myself not wanting the evening to come to an end. I wasn't going to rush things however. I still had my wits about me and I wanted to be surer of my feelings before going too far. Still, Duncan had been a generous host and I did not resist when, after we had parked outside my house, he put his arm round me and drew me into an embrace. I felt a shiver run through me as his lips pressed against mine and, as he kissed me, I responded with equal enthusiasm. This time our goodnights did extend to a prolonged snog, but Duncan remained the true gentlemen and did not press me when I gently broke free and said I ought to go in. He had commitments for the rest of the weekend and we arranged another date for the following Saturday. "I'll try and get us tickets to see a show" Duncan promised and I said that I would enjoy that. And so we parted. An evening at the theatre was going to require a somewhat classier dress and much of my spare time the following week was spent discretely looking in the windows of ladies dress shops. I eventually found just the dress I had been looking for. It was a loose-flowing, knee-length, black lace dress with a "cross your heart" neckline, and sheer nylon sleeves. I plucked up courage and walked into the shop. (Fortunately it wasn't anywhere near where I lived or worked, so no-one knew me.) I explained that I wanted to see the dress in a size 14 and would it be OK if I tried it on? The sales assistant didn't bat an eyelid and showed me into a changing room. To my surprise the dress was a little too large and I asked the assistant if she would mind swapping it for a size 12. This fitted perfectly and I was just giving a little twirl in the mirror when the assistant walked in. "That is lovely" she said, "It really suits you." I must have looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, for she hurriedly continued; "Don't worry; we get quite a few men in here buying clothes for themselves. And why not say I; your money is as good as anyone else's and why shouldn't you enjoy wearing pretty clothes if you want to." This was a very enlightened response and I thanked her profusely. In the end, at her recommendation, in addition to the dress I purchased a sweet silver belt and most stunning pair of black and diamante earrings. A blow to the wallet, but oh so worth it! It was, in fact, the earrings that made me decide to wear my hair up for our Saturday night date. I found a hair-piece of a similar colour to my wig and, by dint of hard work and perseverance, produced a hair style that looked stunning and was exactly right for the sophisticated "lady about town" image I was trying to project. Duncan was certainly impressed when he picked me up at half-past six on the Saturday evening. He wouldn't tell me where we were going, in spite of my pleading ever so sweetly. "No dear" he laughed, "this time it is a surprise." And a surprise it was when he parked the car in a garage just off Bow Street and escorted me into Covent Garden Opera House! "I've managed to get us a pair of tickets for the Marriage of Figaro" he announced. "You told me you like Mozart's music, so I thought this would be a chance to advance your operatic education." I was speechless with amazement and could only squeeze his arm tightly in acknowledgement of my excitement. This was the first time I had been inside the Royal Opera House and I was blown away by the sheer opulence of everything; the foyer and staircase; the Floral Hall Bar - all cast iron and glass; (a relic from the days when the theatre used to be surrounded by a fruit, vegetable and flower market Duncan explained.) Beautiful as everything was, I was totally unprepared for the sight as we entered the auditorium. All red and gold, boxes and tiers rose above us in the classic horseshoe shape; it was truly overwhelming. Duncan had got us tickets towards the back of the stalls and I grasped his hand with excitement as the lights went down and the performance started. The Marriage of Figaro was delightful; funny, moving, beautifully staged, and with gloriously voiced singers. I enjoyed every minute of it. During the interval we sipped champagne in the Champagne Bar - (not every theatre has one of those!) Eventually the performance ended and, after prolonged applause, Duncan and I made our way back to his car. I couldn't find sufficient superlatives to describe my feelings. "I felt like that after my introduction to opera" he smiled down at me. "You had better be careful or you will become as addicted as I am." We drove home and, whilst again I decided not to invite Duncan in, this time it was me who initiated our kissing - and we went on for quite a long time! I could feel Duncan getting hard as he pressed against my leg, and it was only the tight knickers I had on that stopped me responding in similar fashion! Eventually we had to break for air. "When can I see you again?" Duncan demanded. "I don't think I can wait another week!" "How about tomorrow" I responded with a smile? Come round at 12:00 and I'll cook you lunch. (This invitation was very much on the spur of the moment and not something I had thought about earlier. It just seemed the right thing to do at the time.) Not surprisingly, Duncan accepted with alacrity. It was only after I was safely indoors that the enormity of my "off the cuff" invitation hit me. Duncan would inevitably assume that my asking him into my home was an indication of a willingness to take our relationship to a further stage of intimacy. Just how far was I prepared to go? I was still uncertain what all this cross-dressing and dating with a man was saying about my sexuality. I had no idea whether or not I was really gay, or just being carried away by the momentary excitement. There was only one way to find out. I would have to be prepared to indulge in some homosexual activity with Duncan on Sunday; just how much and how far, I would have to play by ear! Having made a decision - any decision - proved a great relief. I found I was able to think about the morrow with excitement, rather than trepidation. The next problem was how best to organise my lunch party. If I was going to entertain Duncan, I wanted to do it in style. Fortunately, having grown up in an all female household, I knew how to dress a house to best advantage; set a table; and the importance of a well stocked store cupboard. Accordingly I rose early on the Sunday morning and defrosted a chicken I had in the freezer. I then prepared vegetables ready for roasting and selected a bottle of wine from my limited cellar. As soon as the shops were open I hurried out to buy some flowers and a few other odds and ends I needed. Whilst the chicken was cooking, I laid the dining table with Mother's best china and crystal and arranged the flowers around the house. Time was now getting on and I still had to decide what I was going to wear. "Something smart but not too formal", I thought. It would also be something I could disrobe from simply and elegantly - assuming events went that way! The last thing I would need in the middle of a seduction scene was a tussle with a tight fitting top and my wig!! In the end I settled for a flower print dress with a long back zip that I could step into and out of; straight cut, it showed of my figure to advantage. I was finally ready, dressed and made up, fifteen minutes before the time Duncan was due to arrive. The lunch was bubbling away nicely in the oven; the red wine open and breathing; and a bottle of fizz chilling in the fridge. I allowed myself a few moments of calm contemplation. This was it! I would shortly have to open myself to new experiences and face the possibility that my long held views as to my sexuality might be overturned. The doorbell rang prompt to the time we had agreed. Duncan was standing on the doorstep with a beaming smile on his face and a large bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. I ushered him into the lounge and, excusing myself briefly, swiftly put his flowers in water and swapped my cheap bottle of fizz for his champagne. Duncan was very complimentary about my house and the way I had decorated it. I decided not to show him round; taking him up to the bedrooms might precipitate ideas in his head rather sooner than I would wish! I allowed Duncan to open the champagne and pour us each a glass. We sat sipping with undisguised pleasure. Both of us enjoy good wine, and Duncan could clearly afford better ones than my modest purse could accommodate. Quite soon our meal was ready and I showed Duncan to the dining table whilst I brought things through from the kitchen. I thought it would be taking role playing too far if I asked Duncan to carve; - ("Poor little woman; clearly unable to carry out manly tasks such as carving"!) So I served whilst Duncan poured the wine. Our meal was very pleasant and, once again, Duncan was complimentary about my domestic skills. He behaved as a perfect gentleman throughout the meal and at no time did our conversation turn salacious or become loaded with innuendo. It was just a fun, civilised occasion. I served coffee back in the lounge and, when we had finished and I had cleared the cups away, I returned and sat beside Duncan on the sofa. This was the moment of truth. I turned and allowed myself to slide into his arms. Our lips met and we kissed with an increasing passion. I could feel Duncan's erection growing inside his trousers and before long his hand was on my knee and starting to slide up under my skirt. "Hang on a minute" I whispered in Duncan's ear, giving him a gentle squeeze in his crotch just to show I wasn't rejecting his advances. "This is a new dress and I don't want to crease it. Can you please give me a hand to take it off?" So saying I turned my back to him and allowed him to undo the zip. Rising, I shimmied out of the dress in as feminine and alluring a fashion as I could and stood before Duncan clad only in my pretty underwear, nylons and heels. I basked in the glow of Duncan's obvious look of admiration. "Now your turn sweetie" I murmured, as I knelt on the floor in front of him and leaned forward to undo the buttons of his shirt. Somewhat to my surprise, my fingers encountered a smooth, hairless chest. I guess I had assumed that Duncan was a hairy man. Still, he had tried out cross- dressing at one time and maybe, like me, he just preferred a hair free body. I leaned forward and gently kissed him one of his nipples. He groaned softly and shut his eyes. I continued with gentle little kisses down his chest and belly, whilst, at the same time, undoing his belt buckle and pulling down the zipper on his trousers. I could sense his erection straining to burst free. I reached under the leg of Duncan's boxer shorts and took his cock in my hand - another "first"! As I shoved the leg of his shorts aside, thus releasing his cock; I was initially overwhelmed by the size of what I held in my hand. Duncan's cock was much bigger than mine! I took a deep breath; could I bring myself to cope with this monster? Only one way to find out; I leaned forward and touched the tip with my tongue. I could taste the sweet/salty flavour of his pre-cum. Now was the moment; I leaned closer and was about to take him into my mouth when I realised that I was rather uncomfortable - physically that is! Duncan's belt buckle was scratching my chest where my faux-boobs bulged out of my bra; and I was getting tangled up with his trousers and underpants. "Sorry dear; but these are going to have to go before we can take this any further" I said wryly, pulling down Duncan's trousers and underpants. Naturally I then had to remove his shoes in order to get the trousers off his feet. Finally I succeeded and sat back on my heels to recover before turning once again to my principle task. Much to Duncan's chagrin, I started giggling. His eyes shot open and he sat up. "What is so funny?" he demanded; "Do I disappoint you?" "Not at all" I replied, still giggling. "It is just that I have never seen a man naked except for his socks before and it is quite the most ridiculous sight I can imagine. Socks are totally unsexy; they will have to come off before I can go any further." For some reason Duncan was reluctant to let me take his socks off. He had raised no objection as I had divested him of all his other clothes, so I was a bit taken aback. "Do I have to take my socks off?" Duncan whined. "Yes" I responded; "It is either socks or sex; you can't have both!" Finally Duncan reluctantly agreed and I slipped his socks off his feet. Only then did I discover the reason for his reluctance; "Hallo" I mussed aloud, "does my big strong man paint his toenails then?" Duncan's toenails were painted a gorgeous shade of red. He was blushing to almost the same tone as his nails as he replied; "I didn't want you to see those" said in a little voice, "but it never occurred to me that we would get to this stage of intimacy today or I would have cleaned them off before coming out." "It's OK" I replied gently. "I paint my nails; why shouldn't you? Does this indicate that you are still a secret cross-dresser? Imogene told me you had tried out dressing for a while, but thought you had decided it wasn't for you?" Duncan looked away. He could not look me in the eye. "Well sort of" he mumbled. "What do you mean "sort of"" I pressed. "Surely you either dress or you don't?" "Well I don't exactly dress as a woman" Duncan finally admitted. "Oh god this is embarrassing! It is true that having tried it, I decided womanhood was not for me. However, what I do like is dressing as a little girl; in fact I am a "Sissy"!" And he burst into tears. I slid back onto the sofa beside him and took Duncan in my arms and cuddled him. "Hush" I whispered. "There is nothing wrong with being a sissy. Each of us becomes the female of our imagination; if your fantasy is to become a little girl that is fine with me." "Do you mean that?" said Duncan, drying his eyes and sitting up. "Only I so wanted to impress you and I thought that in dating you I could satisfy my need to be with someone transgendered, and that that might take away my need to become Dolly." "Is "Dolly" your little girl's name?" I asked gently. Duncan nodded. "It is a very pretty name" I said, "and I would love to meet her some time. In the meanwhile you and I have some unfinished business to conclude. I don't know about you, but my cock is itching to cum!" Duncan's erection had, not surprisingly, subsided during our previous conversation, but it now started stirring back into life. "Do you really want to go on?" he asked breathlessly. "Of course" I responded, bending down and giving him a kiss of encouragement on the tip of the aforementioned organ! "I'm not a prick-teaser and we both deserve a bit of relaxation after all this emotion. So saying, I took him fully in my mouth and proceeded to give him the first blow-job of my life! To my surprise I really enjoyed it. Duncan exploded in my mouth seconds before I came in my knickers. Never having experienced it before, I was amazed at the amount of cum that flooded into my mouth. I gagged a bit at swallowing and, as a result, cum dribbled out of the sides of my mouth, down my chin and dripped onto the tops of my breasts. I must have looked a bit ashen as I mumbled; "Sorry, got to go to the bathroom!" I rushed into the downstairs cloakroom and promptly spewed up into the toilet. It wasn't that I was disgusted with myself in having given Duncan a blow job. On the contrary, I had enjoyed it. It was just that I hadn't been prepared for the volume of slimy cum that flooded into my mouth. I rinsed out my mouth and returned to Duncan in the lounge. "Are you OK?" he enquired anxiously. "I'm fine" I replied "it was jus that it was my first time and it all came as a bit of a surprise and I wasn't able to cope. I'm OK now." "Wow" responded Duncan; "For a "first-timer" you give great head!" "So you are experienced in these matters, are you?" I remarked with a smile. Duncan blushed; "Well as "Dolly" I normally give rather than receive, but "yes" I have enjoyed more than a few blow-jobs in my time and, I have to say, you are one of the best!" In spite of myself, I felt flattered by Duncan's encouraging remarks. "Well, I think we had better stop now" I said. "I, for one, have had quite sufficient new experiences for one day!" Duncan laughed and agreed with me. "However" I continued, "I do want to meet Dolly. So next Sunday you can entertain me to tea and I expect you to be wearing your prettiest party frock!" Duncan looked at the floor and mumbled that he wasn't sure he could cope with that. But I persisted and, eventually, he agreed to my request. I asked Duncan to help me back into my dress and shivered as he gently kissed the nape of my neck as he did up the zipper. I then handed him his garments as he gradually re-clothed himself. It had been an instructive afternoon to say the least, but I had really enjoyed myself and was excited at the prospect of seeing Duncan's kinky side and meeting Dolly. We both enjoyed a final kiss before I saw Duncan out, promising to be raring to go the following Sunday. The week resumed its usual course; work, shopping, cleaning the house, and watching television in the evenings over a nice glass of wine or scotch. I don't want you to think I spend all my spare time cross-dressing; I dodn't. Oh I enjoy putting on pretty female finery, but as a treat rather than an everyday occurrence. So, it was only as the weekend approached that I started to thing about what I should wear to visit Duncan/Dolly. I flirted briefly with the idea of giving Duncan a treat and wearing a very short, tight, grey and white check, mini-skirt that I had purchased recently but had not yet had a chance to wear outside my bedroom. However, on reflection, I concluded that if Duncan's fantasy was to be treated as a little girl, he wouldn't fancy a sexy "teen-ager" trying to get in his knickers. In the end I settled on a "mumsey" look. Rummaging through Mother's wardrobe, I found the ideal outfit. A knee-length, tartan kilt teamed with a cream camisole and matching cardigan seemed to fit the bill. Low heeled black shoes, tan tights, and my short blonde wig produced a fairly mature image. I applied a very simple, light makeup and chose a plain, pearl-bead necklace. I didn't look like a middle-aged woman, but neither did I appear as a sexy come-on; "This will do" I thought. By now I had perfected a way of leaving my house dressed without giving the neighbours any reason to suspect anything was different about me. My house has an integral, electronically controlled garage, so, having dressed, I got into the car, opened the garage doors and drove straight out, having first ascertained that there was no-one passing by in the immediate vicinity. On the Sunday afternoon, I drove to Duncan's house, arriving at about 4:00pm. I had phoned him before leaving to tell him the time of my anticipated arrival and to give "Dolly" time to get ready. I rang the doorbell and the front-door swung open as if of its own accord, with no- one visible in the hall. I stepped inside. As "she" shut the door, I caught my first site of "Dolly". Well, to start with "she" was clearly a middle-aged man in a frilly, sissy, dress. In no way did "Dolly" convince that "she" was female. But that didn't matter; it was what was going on in Duncan's head that counted. I smiled warmly and said how pleased I was to meet Dolly at last. I carefully looked "her" up and down before saying anything else. Dolly was wearing a short, pink, satin party-frock with net petticoats that pushed it up wide off her legs. Her legs were bare and freshly shaven. On her feet she wore pretty white ankle socks and black-patent, Mary-Jane shoes with a one inch heel. Her wig was chestnut coloured; long, and brushed high on her head with two big "bunches" falling either side. She was blushing furiously! I complemented Dolly on how pretty she looked and what a lovely dress she was wearing. Just as any little girl would, Dolly held the hem of her dress in her two hands and gave me a little twirl, revealing white, ruffled panties in the process! It was clearly from the voluminous nature of her nether regions, that Dolly was wearing a nappy under her knickers. Dolly took me through to the lounge, where a tea tray of sandwiches and cakes was already laid out. "Do you really think I look nice?" she enquired anxiously. "I do" I replied. "If your wish is to present as a little girl, then you do it splendidly." Dolly was delighted and threw herself into my arms for a cuddle. I refrained from kissing her. I had been giving some thought, as I drove over, as to how I should react to Duncan as Dolly. Duncan was a masculine man who liked to escort me, as Sonia, on sophisticated outings and, on these occasions, to take the lead role, treating me as "the little woman." Now circumstances were reversed; it was I who was in the position of power and Dolly who was the person needing care. I had resolved that in this aspect of our relationship, I would take the dominant role and Dolly would be the submissive. Accordingly, I merely gave Dolly a warm hug before pushing her to arms length. "Now Dolly" I started, "I want you to be a good girl and take Auntie Sonia on a tour of your lovely house." Dolly cottoned on at once and eagerly took my hand. She led me on a tour of the house - which was large and impressive; Duncan clearly not only had a great deal of money, but the taste to spend it wisely! - before we ended up back in the lounge. "I'll go and make the tea" said Dolly excitedly; "Everything else is ready, but I waited until you arrived before making tea as I didn't want it to stew." "Now dear" I replied gently; "I'm not sure I think that is a very good idea. Little girls shouldn't play with hot water. Auntie Sonia will make the tea whilst you sit here like a good girl and read your comic." (I had spotted that there was a pile of girly magazines on a side- table.) Dolly played along immediately; seating herself on the sofa and fluffing her skirts out around her. "Of course, Auntie Sonia" she said. "How silly of me to think I was a big girl and able to do things for myself." I could see how this scenario was developing and was happy to go along with it. I therefore left Dolly happily reading in the lounge whilst I went off to the kitchen and made myself a pot of tea. I spotted a feeding bottle in the cupboard and, smiling, filled it with warm milk for Dolly. Returning to the lounge, I put down my tray and placed a few sandwiches on a plate, which I handed to Dolly along with the feeding bottle. "Now if Dolly is a good girl and eats all her sandwiches and drinks her milk, Auntie Sonia may let her choose a nice cake afterwards." Dolly quickly entered into the spirit of the game and was soon sucking enthusiastically on the teat of her bottle, whilst I settled back in an armchair and enjoyed a welcome cup of tea. As she had promised, Dolly quickly drank up her milk and ate her egg-and- cress sandwiches. "Can I have a cake now, Auntie Sonia?" she enquired in a little, piping voice. "Of course dear, I responded. "Good girls earn their treats. But I want you to promise me you will have another bottle of milk." Dolly looked a bit anxious, but agreed to my condition. I swiftly prepared another bottle of warm milk and gave it to Dolly, along with a choice of cake. Dolly ate her cake and gulped down her milk. I allowed her a second cake, but insisted she drink yet another large bottle of milk. By now the liquid was having its inevitable effect on her bladder, and I smiled as I watched her squirming in her seat. "Dolly needs to go wee-wee Auntie Sonia" she gasped out at last. "Nonsense dear" I replied, "You haven't drunk nearly enough to need to go to the toilet", and proceeded, perhaps unkindly, to insist she drink yet another bottle of milk. By now Dolly was really uncomfortable and writhing in her chair. I studiously pretended I noticed nothing amiss until, with a barely suppressed sigh of relief, Dolly wet her knickers! Now she was faced with the prospect of having to cope with a cooling, soggy nappy. I left her to squirm until, finally, she blurted out; "Dolly has had an accident!" I gave her a gentle scolding before asking her where she kept her clean nappies. When she told me, I fetched a new one - (it was the sort elderly ladies wear when experiencing incontinence) - together with a large bath- towel. I put the towel on the lounge carpet and made Dolly lie down on it on her back. I pulled down her pretty frilly knickers and took off her soaking wet nappy. I hurriedly placed this in a plastic bag, before fitting a new nappy around her nether regions. Dolly obviously found this exciting as I had to bring her off in my hand before I could tuck her male parts out of sight! Once she was secured arrayed, I tugged the hem of her dress into place and disposed of the smelly nappy in the dustbin outside in the yard. "Naughty Dolly" I scolded; "You must always tell Auntie when you need to go wee-wee. Only babies wet their nappies." "But I did tell you" Dolly protested. I slapped her leg; "And good girls don't answer back!" I reposted. Dolly got the message. "Sorry Auntie; I'll be a good girl in the future" she said, casting her eyes toward the carpet. "Well we will say no more about it" I said. "Now it is Auntie's turn for a bit of relaxation. Would you like another bottle of milk, or is there something else you might like to suck on?" Dolly cottoned on at once; "I've had enough milk" she said. "I would like to suck something else." I turned round and asked Dolly to unzip my skirt. Stepping out of it, I pulled off my knickers and sat down with my legs apart. My cock, released from its confinement quickly came to attention. It looked a bit out of place framed, as it was, by suspenders and stocking tops! Dolly knelt on the floor between my legs and proceeded to give me head. Again, this was a first for me and I revelled in it! Soon I exploded inside Dolly's mouth and she, being more practiced in these matters that me, swallowed everything down without a single dribble. She licked her lips and smiled up with me. "There now; we are even" she laughed. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did last Sunday!" I hastened to assure her that I had found it, literally, mind-blowing. I sent Dolly to fetch a flannel and clean my private parts. This she did and I pulled my kickers back on and stepped into my skirt. Smoothing it down, I turned to Dolly; "Well dear, I think it is bedtime" I said. Back in role, Dolly grumbled a bit but allowed me to lead her upstairs and to help her out of her dress, petticoats, shoes, and socks. "Clean your teeth dear" I instructed, only too aware of the slime that was currently coating her mouth. Dolly did as she was told and I a cotton nightdress over her head. It was pink and covered with bunny prints. (Where on earth she found one in her size was beyond me! Still I guess that if you surf the web long enough, you will eventually find someone prepared to sell you pretty much anything.) I tucked Dolly up in her bed. (Duncan had decorated one of the bedrooms as a nursery and included a single bed with rails along the side in lieu of a cot.) Kissing the little girl goodnight, I retired downstairs and poured myself another glass of wine. I sat sipping this whilst browsing through a few women's fashion magazines I found in the lounge. As I had anticipated, in about half an hour Duncan entered the room. This time it was definitely "Duncan", He was dressed in a smart, stripped shirt; tan trousers; and brown loafers. "Thank you Sonia" he said with a smile, leaning over and kissing me on the lips. "I don't mind telling you now that I was ever so nervous before you arrived. I wasn't at all sure how you would react to "Dolly". In point of fact, you were brilliant. I don't think I have ever had a better Sissy session. You really did get into role as "Auntie Sonia"; I was quite awe of you and felt I had no option but to do as you instructed. Have you ever thought of taking this up professionally? There are dozens of sissies and submissive men out there who would pay good money for a session like the one I have just enjoyed!" I burst out laughing and told him not to be ridiculous. I was a nerdy librarian and archivist; not a provider of sexual services. Duncan did not press the point beyond saying that, in his opinion, this was something I ought to consider. Shortly afterwards we made our farewells and I drove home. Duncan's final words were ringing in my head and that night I had the most weird dreams of me, dressed in a variety of female costumes, strutting about whilst men begged me to beat them or dress them in girly frocks. I woke up in the morning to tangled bedclothes and a sense of not having slept well! I tried to put such thoughts out of my head at work but without much success. That evening, at home, I poured myself a large scotch and sat down with a sheet of paper, noting down all the different experiences I had gone through since I first started clearing our Mummy's wardrobe. Against each entry I listed how I had felt; both the pluses and the minuses; it was quite a long list. As I poured over my notes, it suddenly came to me like a bolt out of the blue; I knew what was happening and what I need to do next. I remembered the advice my late mother had given me when she was alive. All through my childhood and right up until the time she died, her mantra had been; "One day darling you WILL find your "voice", and when you do you will finally know where you stand in society and what your predestined role is to be." Well, I had, finally, "found my voice". I had finally reached the goal I had set myself as a child - to become a woman as much like Mummy as was possible. That was what all my cavorting around in Mummy's clothes had been when I was a little boy. I had been trying to show her, and her lady friends, that, in spite of the fact that I was genetically male, I could become just like them; revelling in my femininity and rejoicing in the power I exerted over mere men. Well I had done it; I was now just like Mummy. I was going to embrace my femininity wholeheartedly and make men squirm at my feet. All I had to decide now was how was I actually going to achieve this. That shouldn't be a problem; where there is the will there is always a way. Next target - FIND IT!!!