Goth Sluts
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Goth Girl Model free porn video
Goth Girl Model:
How had I got myself in this situation? Here I stood with my favourite
black wig on my head trying to look commanding.
My eyebrows had been plucked and new eyebrows penciled in. I was wearing
my mascara and false lashes and my "fuck me" crimson lipstick. There was
a thin line of eyeliner just next to the lashes on each eyelid. Vampire
fangs had been stuck on to my teeth.
My arms were encased in my black PVC opera gloves down to just below my
elbows but my wrists were chained open above my head making a "y" shape
of my body. I looked down at the my pale breasts and my black PVC bra.
I also had my black PVC waist clincher strapped round my waist and could
see my black PVC panties under it. Then there were my suspender straps
which went down my pale white legs to the black lace tops of my seemed
slightly black stockings and my black patent 6 inch stilettos.
Propped behind me on the wall was my silky black dress which had been
spread across the wall with the red flowers from the hems furthest from
me. It looked like the dress had exploded open.
My wife Andrea, who is a photographer showed me a picture of me that she
had just taken.
I looked like an insect in a display case.
I looked like a whore.
"Quite sexy for a boy!" She giggled.
She showed me she had just uploaded the picture to a goth fashion page.
I felt exposed and humiliated. Because I was dressed as a woman? No, I
was used to dressing as a woman now, because I had been stripped of my
dress and chained to the wall. And because I looked like a whore.
So how did this begin?
I went to a Russell University. I got a good degree. I had been brought
up in a conservative Christian family. I don't use conservative in the
political sense - my dad would vote Liberal Democrat and my mum would
vote Green.
I had certain views about the way the world was and my place in it. I
couldn't understand why everyone didn't share my views. I mean I felt
then that I was pretty tolerant. I felt a man's duty was to be the
breadwinner of the family and a woman's duty was to look sexy, to do the
housework and to prepare the meals. Some of my friends would say a
woman's place is in the bedroom or in the kitchen. I agreed but I felt
women could do other things like for example acting, nursing or modelling
but I obviously expected my wife to be good in bed and in the kitchen,
which she was.
My wife, although no idiot, went to one of those universities that used
to be a polytechnic. I felt intellectually and sexually her superior.
Andrea was a Goth. She had naturally pale skin and jet black hair. She
wore tattoos of flowers on one shoulder and one of me on the other. She
practiced yoga. I guess opposites do attract sometimes.
From time to time I would have to explain things to her like what a film
was about.
I used to get frustrated by how long she took to get ready when we went
out. She said if you were a woman you would appreciate how quick I am.
When we first started dating we would go running together. Once I
remember after she finished around a minute behind me on a six mile run
saying, "Not bad for a girl." I had meant to inspire her.
"With practice I will be faster than you!" Andrea replied angrily. I
had brought out her competitive streak.
"In your dreams!" I replied.
For the first few years of our marriage I had a good job in the City and
Andrea did a bit of freelance photography and did the housework.
Everything was how it should be I felt.
Then came the crash and I lost my job. Strangely though, Andrea had
started to become much sought after as a photographer. I got a low paid
job working in a supermarket and with my loss of self esteem I started to
put on weight.
There were other changes too. Andrea stopped shaving her armpits. I
think she got that idea from Patti Smith. She said she was an artist and
it was artistic. She also got faster than me at running and started to
tease me and call me "fat boy". So I was now the physically weaker of
the two of us.
At about the same time I suddenly found I could not grow hair under my
armpits. I didn't know it then but Andrea was shaving my armpits whilst
I was sleeping.
Andrea said I needed to change my diet and got me eating salads instead
of meat sandwiches and drinking coffee instead of eating chocolate and
drinking beer. She also would put testosterone blockers in my food and
estrogen supplements. I didn't know that the food I was eating was also
rich in estrogen.
She got me started on yoga too.
Initially I had said I thought it was a girls sport but when I had seen
some rather fit and muscular guys come out of her class one day I had
decided maybe I should take up the practice too.
After a few months I noticed that I had dropped quite a lot of weight
around my waist and that I needed a new belt. In fact I had to buy
ladies belts as they were the only belts in my size.
Andrea had noticed that I was starting to grow breasts and my hips were
starting to widen. The testosterone blockers and estrogen supplements
were working. They were helped by the yoga exercises which were designed
to expand your chest and hips. The instructor described it as opening up
your chest and hips.
I remember Andrea saying "You are starting to look quite like a girl for
a boy. I wonder if you would look better in a dress, as Shakira says,
"Hips don't lie" you know!"
"Very funny," I said.
One day Andrea got home late from a shoot and said she was too tired to
do the housework. Would I mind putting the washing in the machine from
time to time and cleaning the house rather than spending all my time on
the internet?
I agreed as I could see it would not get done otherwise and gradually I
had started to become more the househusband than she was the housewife.
I still thought of myself as the breadwinner and her as the housewife
though.
One day Andrea caught me looking at a picture of a Goth lady in black
lacy panties, fishnet stockings and suspenders and a lace trimmed basque.
I said she looked like a Goth bimbo.
"You would look good wearing the same outfit when you do the housework!"
I said.
"You are so sexist Eddie, I sometimes wonder why I stay with you."
Playing with fire I continued "Well, that's because you are a woman, let
me explain it to you in simple terms that even you could understand - I
see a beautiful model in lingerie and suggest you would look good in the
same clothes and that's sexist."
"Well, gee, let's think Eddie. Was that all you said or did you also
suggest I should only wear lingerie to do the housework? Who does the
housework? You do, as I am earning more than you so if you were not
being sexist maybe you should wear the lingerie? After all who is the
photographer, me or you? If you weren't being sexist you would agree, as
my model, to do the housework whilst wearing the lingerie in question."
I could tell I had dug my own hole. So it was admit I was wrong or man
up or rather woman up?
"I will agree to wear lingerie to do the housework if there is a
unanimous vote of both of us and the first three of our friends to answer
their phones and then look at your attempts to feminise me that I look
just like a woman and if you win you can even do a photoshoot. If I
don't you have to do the housework in only your lingerie and shave that
hair under your armpits."
You see I still thought I looked like a man and if not I believed
democracy would save me.
"Provided you agree I can do what I like to make you look like a woman
you have a deal," Andrea replied.
So first she had me shave my arms legs and chest. Then she bleached my
skin and dyed my brown hair jet black just like hers. I was already
getting worried I was starting to look like I was her sister. What is it
about husbands and wives and how they start to look like each other?
As Andrea was feminising me She was videoing everything she was doing to
me. Next she got to work on plucking my eyebrows. It was a painful
process. After I had no eyebrow hair left Andrea then drew false
eyebrows on. Next Andrea stuck false eyelashes on my eyes and drew a
thin black line over both eyelids just above the lashes.
Then Andrea got out an eyelash curler and a mascara brush. By the time
Andrea had applied crimson lipstick to my lips I realised that even
before she had got me into my first basque, (which Andrea laced me into
so tightly I could barely breathe and led to me talking like Marilyn
Monroe) my first panties, and my first fishnets and suspenders, that I
was going to have to vote for my own feminisation. There was nothing of
my face that looked remotely masculine.
I also noticed with horror how my breasts filled the cups of the basque.
I had tried to pretend I did not have tits but there was no other
explanation of how my chest filled the bra cups.
Voting for my own feminisation sounded stupid right? Why would I? I mean
I was a keen Anglican and men like me did not engage in deviant
activities like this. This was the realm of the gay community. At the
time I did not understand there was a difference between homosexuals,
transvestites and trans women.
Some people would say I was homophobic but I would point out that the
bible said homosexuality was a sin. I also felt that men were the head
of the household and women were always meant to be subservient to men.
So being dressed as a woman was degrading for a man like me as was being
intellectually outwitted by Andrea.
So why would I vote this way? The fact was that I had been brought up
with a high sense of honour and integrity and I could see that I looked
like a woman. To vote to save myself would simply be a lie.
I was going to get three of the lads I go drinking with to vote but I
deliberately dialled wrong numbers as I did not want them to see me
dressed like this... I had to hope one of Andrea's friends would save me.
Andrea said she wanted me to be her model so she would obviously be
voting for me to become her "wife".
Next Andrea had her Mum on FaceTime. "I always thought you would look
good in lingerie, Edwina, and thought of you more as a daughter-in-law
than a son-in-law. You look so sexy. Do you feel sexy?"
This was the first time I had been called Edwina and I was going to say
my name was Edward not Edwina but I looked down at myself and the
erection in my panties. "Yes, I guess I do," I replied.
"Is this really your first time in lingerie? Are you enjoying being a
woman? Will you wear lingerie again?"
I said I honestly had not crossdressed before but I had to admit I was
enjoying the feeling of the clothes and of being sexy and I was already
thinking about how I would like to wear lingerie again.
"Well my vote is yes, Edwina shall go to the photo shoot," my mother-in-
law said as if she was doing me a favour. With hindsight I now know that
she was but at the time I was not so sure.
Andrea then called her sister Alison. "I always thought of you as a
sister-in-law rather than a brother-in-law, Edwina. I can't wait to go
shopping with you." She also voted yes.
Then Andrea called my Mum but she let me speak.
"Mum, you have to help me. I got into this bet with Andrea and only you
can save me from losing the bet."
Just then my Mum looked at me on the screen. I thought surely my Mum
will save me from being feminised but my Mum said "Andrea I had always
wanted a daughter and what you have done with Edwina here has brought
tears to my eyes."
"Mum, I am your son and my name is Edward," I said, struggling to believe
I was a man any more myself.
"Your hourglass figure and your clothing say otherwise, Edwina," my Mum
replied.
"But Mum if you say you think I look like a woman, I your son, will have
to do a photoshoot dressed as a woman. Help me Mummy, I don't want to be
dressed as a woman."
"Well why are you dressed as one then, Edwina? You must be a woman of
your word. It is about time you embraced your feminine side. Andrea you
must send me the pictures. Edwina I am delighted at last to have a
daughter."
"So," Andrea said, "Edwina you get the deciding vote. Do you truthfully
look like a woman?"
"Yes, I do Andrea and I will agree to be your model Edwina."
So I had voted for my own feminisation. I had voted to become Edwina.
Ultimately I had decided to become a transvestite model myself.
After Andrea finished shooting pictures of me doing the housework in my
lingerie I asked if I could now put some more clothes on.
I had hoped to conceal my lingerie under male clothes but Alison arrived
and although I had meant to dress as a man I knew the two sisters were
too strong for me. They cut up the trousers I was going trying to put on
and helped me into a black silk dress with a white lace trim. Initially
i didn't realise what they were doing until a white lace headpiece and
apron were produced and I was told to do the ironing. I was wearing a
French maid's outfit when there were two women in the room who would have
looked better in it than me.
I told them as much.
Andrea told me I was being sexist again and as a penalty she would not
unzip me and I would have to spend Sunday dressed as a French Maid too.
By the time I finished the ironing I fell asleep on the sofa.
I woke the following morning still in my Maid's uniform when Andrea said
we were going out for a photoshoot. I reluctantly agreed and got into
the car. Wearing these heels I could not drive so I sat in the back
knowing Andrea would want her sister to sit in the front with her.
Imagine my horror when I realised we were going to church.
"Wow, I never had you for a transvestite," said Joan, the head of the
meet and greet team. "How long have you been crossdressing?"
"I have never done it before," I said.
"You do know it's a sin?" said Julian a church warden and lay preacher.
"We can't have you coming to church any more until you stop this
activity, are you gay?"
"No, I am not gay," I replied.
"How do you know, Edwina?" Andrea asked. "You have already admitted
that you enjoy crossdressing and you had never tried it before today. I
think you need to experiment with your sexuality. Maybe you will enjoy
being taken up the arse!"
So I was kicked out of church.
That night I had sex for the first time dressed as a woman and Andrea put
on a strap on and took my anal virginity.
The next day Andrea said I had been humiliated enough as a French maid
and she wanted me to do some proper photos. I would wear a wig, black
pvc opera gloves and panties, a waist clincher and suspenders and black
stockings and heels. I would also be wearing a black silk dress with red
roses in the hem.
She helped me into the clothes but then said she would like me to be a
vampire for this shoot in our basement and she had these teeth she wanted
to glue in.
She put fake blood on my chin and had me do various poses for her which
she sent to a Goth fashion page.
"Do you enjoy being Edwina?" Andrea asked me and I had to admit that I
did.
A few days after that I quit my job telling my employer that Edward had
moved away and left no forwarding address.
I had become resigned to living as if I was a woman now and Andrea told
me it was time I shaved my own armpits and did my own makeup. I now took
longer to get ready than Andrea and had learnt to respect her more for
how quickly she got ready to go out.
Quite soon after that Andrea's pictures of me started to go viral as did
the video of my first feminisation that Andrea posted on YouTube as
"Edwina the Goth Girl Model".
Then I started to get press interviews. As a man I had loved looking at
pictures of semi naked women but now I identified with each of these
women myself and how they were being objectified by the photographers.
I said I thought one model with her legs bound looked like a prostitute
in a pvc lingerie shoot she did.
I was doing shoots in beautiful dresses Andrea bought me. With all the
yoga we were doing together (and I was now dressed like a woman in yoga
class) I had dropped a dress size from 12 to 10.
Andrea said I should have some tattoos done as I would look sexier. I
said I didn't want to.
Then one day Andrea got me drunk and she had a tattoo of Janet Weiss from
the Rocky Horror show done on one shoulder and one of me as a man on the
other.
Next she suggested I should have my tongue and ears pierced. I was going
to object but then I thought I may as well submit as Andrea will only do
it to me anyway. So I agreed.
When I came home with large gold hoop earrings in each ear and a stud on
my tongue Andrea said she was surprised I agreed to have my ears pierced
and wear a stud in my tongue and I hadn't wanted to do so she would not
have forced me to!
Andrea said she wanted to do a dungeon photo shoot with me. I was in my
vampire silk dress and my favourite pvc outfit. Andrea kissed me and
pushed me up against the wall and then pinned my arms above my head. I
thought we were going to make love as she was undoing my dress but I
suddenly realised she had handcuffed me like this and I could not move my
arms.
Andrea then arranged my dress on the wall behind me.
So this was how I found myself pinned to the wall like an insect. My
reputation as a spokesperson against the objectification of women was in
tatters and I was seen as a hypocrite who just wanted to steal other
models work and I was constantly rumoured to be a whore.
I had learnt that Andrea was intellectually and physically superior to me
and to respect lingerie models now that was the only work I could get.
Gigi
- 08.12.2021
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