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Changes:
"And these children that you spit on as they try to change their world,
they're immune to your consultations, they're quite aware what they are
going through..," - David Bowie RIP
"Nothing has really changed," I try to tell myself as I look down at my
candy pink nail extensions typing these words out on my keyboard as part
of a therapy exercise my wife has given me. She told me I needed to
write down my story down both to help myself to understand who I am and
to help other cisgendered men with their own real identities.
As a guide she told me I needed to ask myself, "What has changed in my
life?"
I look again at my beautiful glossy pink nails. "Underneath these nail
extensions they are still my fingers," I tell myself. "Yes they look
different but that is because I shaved all my hair off my hands and
arms. They are still my hands and arms."
My corset holds my stomach in and emphasizes my breasts, which are now a
38C thanks to the pills Christine gives me. "The straps? They are
tight on my shoulders, that's a change isn't it? Wait a minute I didn't
used to wear a corset at all did I? Did I wear a bra before I wore a
corset or a corset before I wore a bra? Was there really a time when I
wore neither a bra or a corset?
"I don't remember."
I look down at my black leather pencil dress and the silky black
pantyhose showing underneath it.
Because of my dress I cross my legs now. It's too tight for much more
movement than that.
"Christine trained me to always cross my right leg over my left leg.
"Christine told me it was less immodest to cross your legs than to
manspread as I used to do. Why did I man spread? Wait a moment... Was
I once a cisgender man?
"Well I was born a man but despite that I think I never really was a
cisgender man. I was just a transwoman in denial.
"So now when I cross my right leg over my left it is because cisgender
men use the left side of their brains more and I am not such a man. Not
anymore, even if I ever was. It is to counteract my cultural
conditioning and need to keep that side of my conditioning in check.
"As anyone should know women use both sides of their brains which
explains why I have always been outsmarted by Christine."
I stroke my legs and look down at my black three inch stilettoes. As I
do this my long straight blonde hair falls across my face and I brush it
back before fixing it into pigtails with a black scrunchies on each
side. "It's all my hair not hair extensions now. I guess that's a
change, isn't it?"
Man spreading and my non-panty encased manhood were my downfall.
You see Christine and I were going through a rough patch in our
marriage. Once or twice in the last week we had travelled into town on
the tube together. She had noticed how my tendency to man spread had
attracted the attention of other ladies and I had a wandering eye.
A few days later I told Christine that I had to stay late at work. This
was the first time I had cheated on Christine.
So I was not the perfect husband you say? You think I got what I
deserved for cheating on my wife? Well you are right, I did get what I
deserved, but it was not like you think. Christine was a bit of
perfectionist. My life was a case of "Trop Belle pour toi" - have you
seen the film? It summed up where we were in our marriage. For some
time I had felt that I did not measure up, that I was not good enough
for Christine, I was adrift in the sea of life. Running with the sea
metaphor for a moment, any sailor will tell you that you need to know
about the tides and know how to deal with them. A good sailor is afraid
of too little wind rather than too much and also of running aground.
Knowing about the tides is about being able to adapt to what life throws
at you. The wind dying is impotence and running aground is being caught
cheating on your wife with a mistress and the mistress realising you
were never intending to leave your wife.
It wasn't long before I hit the rocks. Like any sailor I was not sure
how I hit the rocks but hit them I had.
Christine was mad at me.
I was scared.
Christine had not taken long to work out I was cheating on her. Had she
found me out because of her feminine intuition or was it my ingrained
sense of male privilege that meant like so many men we think of our
wives as stupid and make silly mistakes? Women have a word for this
type of man - he is a mansplainer.
So I had got home to find my world turned upside down and Christine
wasn't even reacting like I had expected she would. So Christine sat me
down and said:
"There are going to have to be some changes if we are going to save our
marriage. This is going to start with your underwear. You are going to
throw out all your boxer shorts and wear panties from now on."
I knew I had been caught red handed and that Christine had every right
to throw me out. I knew I would lose not only Christine but our
daughters and our home. But I did not understand so I asked, "Why the
panties?"
Christine laughed. "Why? You - Peter the mansplainer - need to ask me
- Christine a simple woman - why?"
I knew Christine had thought this through before she answered me so I
started to take off my clothes as she explained:
"Firstly to remind you who wears the trousers in our relationship and it
is clear to me that you infidelity was in fact a cry for help;
Secondly because I know your culturally ingrained masculinity will feel
shame wearing panties because within our culture it is degrading for a
man to dress like a woman; and Thirdly because you will think twice
about cheating on me again when your girlfriend can see you are wearing
panties."
Christine continued, "If I ever catch you in boxer shorts again our
marriage is over."
So that night I threw away all of my boxer shorts as a symbol of my
commitment to our marriage.
My first pair of panties were a silky black pair of side lace high rise
midi panties. Although I was resistant to putting them on I knew I had
to overcome my cultural instincts.
As I slid them on it was quite obvious to Christine and me that I was
turned on. It was also quickly apparent that my underwear would not
accommodate my excited manhood. Once my erection had died down
Christine showed me how to tuck myself between my legs. It turned out
she had read a bit about drag queens on the internet.
The following morning I was just putting my socks on when Christine
stopped me. "Not so fast! I have seen those wandering eyes of yours!
I think I have the cure."
Christine handed me a packet of black opaque pantyhose.
"Here, let me put them on you." I sat there as Christine explained and
showed me how to roll on my pantyhose caressing my legs as she did so.
As she had just finished my knees rubbed together and I was amazed at
how it still felt like she was caressing me.
Why didn't I object? Because I knew I had wandering eyes and I knew
Christine knew. How was wearing pantyhose going to stop me looking at
other women? I had no idea. After all Christine looked at other women
as much if not more than I did.
She seemed confident.
I knew I would find out she was right soon enough and I was enjoying the
sensation of wearing pantyhose more than I was prepared to admit. "Why
had I not discovered the thrill of wearing these garments before?"
I slipped on the rest of my clothes. As I stepped out on the street to
leave for work the fear hit me. Shit! What if someone realizes I am
wearing pantyhose? I spent the whole day looking at myself worried
someone would "make" me. I didn't see any women in skirts or dresses
all day. Those I saw were wearing trousers.
After a few days like this my next fear was of Sam or Alex finding out
that I had taken to crossdressing.
"What will I say to Sam and Alex? They are bound to notice that I am
not wearing socks and boxer shorts and the larger panties and
pantyhose."
"I am curious how now having cheated on me you are asking me about
whether you should tell the truth or lie to our daughters. You could
tell them that you were cheating on me and how you are wearing panties
and pantyhose to help you be faithful or that you are a transvestite and
have chosen to wear panties and pantyhose."
"But I am not a transvestite!"
"Your underwear would suggest otherwise unless you are saying you are
transgendered? When are you planning the operation?"
"Haha!" I replied.
"I can see you don't want to tell your daughters about your infidelity
and are not proud of it. This is a positive thing, Peter, as your
betrayal of me and yourself is something that you should feel ashamed of
but you are still in denial. You were clearly excited to be in panties
and pantyhose and our sex life hasn't been this good in years,"
Christine replied.
"Fundamentally I think you have a deep sense of insecurity and you think
that you are not good enough for me. So, tonight we are going to make
some changes and you are going to wear a slip to bed."
"Why a slip?" I replied. "Alex and Sam are bound to find out!"
"Peter, you need to start to recognize that I love you and want the best
for you. You need to trust me when I tell you that you need to love
yourself. At the moment you are still in denial and reject the idea of
loving yourself. You think it's selfish. You have to stop the self-
loathing. As you put on this slip you need to tell yourself you too
deserve beautiful clothes like this. Maybe tomorrow you will start to
recognise who you really are. I know you are going to enjoy wearing a
slip."
I knew she was right and as I felt this smooth silky pink garment unfurl
down my body the reaction in my panties confirmed how much better
Christine knew me than I knew myself.
"Let's do a deal. I am going to set up a Facebook identity for you as
Petra. If Petra ever gets more friends than you, you will wear false
breasts and a bra and start to maintain the facebook identity yourself.
You will respond to any chat or message and accept any friend request.
If Petra gets double your friends on your Peter account you will wear
full make-up and dress as a woman and come clothes shopping with me and
the girls. If Petra gets triple your friends you will become her and
dispose of your old male clothing for ever."
As stood there in my slip with my back to the bedroom door I heard the
door open behind me and Alex and Sam came in. My first reaction was to
try to hide, they had only seen the back of my head, but then common
sense told me, "Don't be daft they have already seen you now turn round
and face them."
"Oh my God! Daddy's a tranny!" my daughters chorused.
"Mummy, can we show Petra how to put on makeup?" Alex asked.
My daughters had heard every word Christine had just said.
"I wasn't calling your father Petra yet, Alex. But you are right she
needs to get used to her name if she is to pass as a woman and she is
going to need makeup lessons so why not? Just don't go telling people
she's your Daddy, at least not yet."
I realized with the fact that I was stood there wearing a slip and
panties meant that there simply was no point arguing that men don't wear
makeup as whilst cisgender men may not I was obviously at the very least
a transvestite if not a transexual and such men, if they were still men,
all wore makeup.
So Alex and Sam taught me his to put on foundation and concealer,
lipstick, eyeshadow and mascara. Then came the nail polish.
Sam said "Don't worry Petra it all washed off save for the nail polish.
We will take it off your fingernails but your toenails must always be
painted from now on Petra."
"Mum," Alex said. "Petra has too much body hair - shall I book her an
appointment at the beauticians?"
"OK Alex but make sure they don't charge for last minute cancellations
if Petra has not got more likes on Facebook than Peter "
So that night was the first time we made love both wearing slips, mine
was pink and Christine was black. For the first time we did it with
Christine on top.
The next morning I woke up to find lipstick marks on my pillow. It was
pink and Christine was wearing scarlet lipstick so I knew it was my own
lipstick I was looking at as I got out of bed to find my slippers had
been replaced with a pair of pink 3 inch heels which matched my slip.
I knew I was meant to put them on...
I was looking at them when Christine came in. "Come in you need to
practice if you are going to pass as a woman when you go to the
beauticians on Saturday morning."
"But I thought we had a deal," I protested.
"Oh we do but Petra already has 50 friend requests for you to accept and
yiy only have 86 friends. I think tomorrow is going to be your first
day 'en femme'! Are you excited?"
I shook my head but put on the shoes anyway. It took me a few moments
to walk like a lady but my appearance at the breakfast table drew cheers
from the other three ladies of the house. I was starting to think of
myself as a woman.
Having checked myself in the mirror I had satisfied myself that all my
makeup had been removed and I got dressed and left for work. The day
was uneventful until 4:00pm. I got a text saying, "Petra has 90
friends. Your account name is 'I am Petra.' And your password is
'tranny husband.' I don't want to see any unopened messages or
unresponded to friend requests. You are not to change the password or
name of the account."
The account had pictures of my daughters making me up and of me in bed.
I had around 3 pictures of men's penises. Various pictures of people
making love and one of a threesome. Then there was a picture of a woman
wearing a strap on penetrating another woman from behind with the words
"This is what I am going to do to yob tonight!" from Trannylover.
I accepted all the friend requests including one from Trannylover whose
message I had opened earlier.
I was scared and constantly looking over my shoulder as I walked home.
Latisha
- 25.06.2022
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